Over a year ago I saw a picture posted on Facebook. Amidst the vast number of images the internet churns out something about this one caught my attention. It was a young woman, the skin on her arm peeling, tousled hair, taken on a hot summer's day some years ago. But it was the look that captured me. Glance at the photo below and you can see for yourself.
I wrote to Hannah Campbell who had posted it saying what a marvellous portrait it was. She explained it was her grandmother.
Some time later, whilst judging a local photographic competition, I saw the face again. But his time it was an older woman holding a photograph of her younger self. I immediately recognised her. A lovely portrait taken by Dr David Bailey.
A thought came to me, namely to create a record of islanders, survivors of the occupation either whilst living on the island, or having been deported or evacuated. A people's gallery.
I mentioned it to Steven Cartwright at The Baliff's office and we discussed creating an exhibition to be displayed in the windows of shops in King Street. Happily the shopkeepers were fully supportive.
I also wanted to interview them and record any thoughts or memories they had of those days.
The idea was that people would see a photograph of the person, some personal information and a memory that particularly evoked those occupation days. In some way allowing us to have a greater understanding of how it felt and to connect.
I wrote to Hannah Campbell who had posted it saying what a marvellous portrait it was. She explained it was her grandmother.
Some time later, whilst judging a local photographic competition, I saw the face again. But his time it was an older woman holding a photograph of her younger self. I immediately recognised her. A lovely portrait taken by Dr David Bailey.
A thought came to me, namely to create a record of islanders, survivors of the occupation either whilst living on the island, or having been deported or evacuated. A people's gallery.
I mentioned it to Steven Cartwright at The Baliff's office and we discussed creating an exhibition to be displayed in the windows of shops in King Street. Happily the shopkeepers were fully supportive.
I also wanted to interview them and record any thoughts or memories they had of those days.
The idea was that people would see a photograph of the person, some personal information and a memory that particularly evoked those occupation days. In some way allowing us to have a greater understanding of how it felt and to connect.
Sometimes they just wanted to show us something in relation to the occupation they owned and cherished. The postcard below is a fine. example. It appears to be a simple postcard of St Helier but on closer inspection you notice the postage stamps, the dates and the address. It all tells a tale.
With the help of Vicki Trehorel, who works for St Helier Parish we began to collate lists of people to contact and invite in. The idea was simple pop in, have a cup of tea, some cake, share your stories and have your photograph taken.
So, people kindly came and unsurprisingly they stayed. They shared their stories. Everyone respectfully quiet, detail seeming to trigger another reflection. The memories comforted them but also raised deep levels of emotion as they tapped into things long forgotten, private and hidden. Memories of family or people who have long since left us. There was kindness in their voices. A sense of pride and a deep sense of loss.
Not everyone brought a photograph, they were in short supply in those days, or an object but everyone brought a precious moment they could remember and were willing to share.
We began to hear common thoughts shared.
With the help of Vicki Trehorel, who works for St Helier Parish we began to collate lists of people to contact and invite in. The idea was simple pop in, have a cup of tea, some cake, share your stories and have your photograph taken.
So, people kindly came and unsurprisingly they stayed. They shared their stories. Everyone respectfully quiet, detail seeming to trigger another reflection. The memories comforted them but also raised deep levels of emotion as they tapped into things long forgotten, private and hidden. Memories of family or people who have long since left us. There was kindness in their voices. A sense of pride and a deep sense of loss.
Not everyone brought a photograph, they were in short supply in those days, or an object but everyone brought a precious moment they could remember and were willing to share.
We began to hear common thoughts shared.
- It was the parents who had really suffered. Thrown into a confused state, having to deal with the sheer awfulness of their situation, they constantly strived to protect the children from the harsh reality imposed on them. The trauma they suffered, and existed for them long after the occupation ended, and was kept hidden from their children in an attempt to protect them.
- There was a great sense of community. People looked out for each other. Bound by a common enemy, a sense of decency prevailed. An attempt to keep a sense of normality for the children if nothing else.
- Everyone was hungry and at the end the Germans suffered too. Many made reference to how little food was available in the latter years, but one thing made them all smile, the lack of sweets ensured a good set of teeth.
- There was difference between those who lived in town and those in the country. Access to food was the discriminating factor. But where and when it was possible food was shared. The odd egg or potato was secretly squirrelled away and gratefully received.
- Some people had witnessed shocking brutality but equally could recount moments of real kindness shown.
- Everyone lived by a devout belief in secrecy. Hidden radio's, stolen food, hiding foreign workers all meant that certain rules were strictly observed under severe penalties.
- Savvy and ingenuity was everywhere. In the homemade crystal sets or the specially designed cookers that burnt sawdust. The items of clothing, the homemade wooden clogs, sabots, the shoes, the hosepipe tyres for bicycles, the list was endless.
- Everyone was concerned about today's waste. It was mentioned several times. Back in those days nothing was wasted. Goods were recycled, food was scavenged, they were rationed and clothes were always being mended.
- There is little doubt amongst survivors that the Red Cross parcels provided by SS Vega saved the island from starvation. The island was suffering with so few supplies reaching its shores and its own produce depleted. Even the German's began to suffer in the end. The allied forces were battling their way through Europe liberating as they went but the islands remained under occupation. St Malo was liberated in August 1944. Jersey had to wait another 9 months. So this supply line was cut off.
On a personal note I want to thank everyone who gave up their time and were kind enough, braving tearful moments, to share their cherished memories with us. That fact they would allow themselves to be so open and vulnerable in relating the stories they did displayed a certain kind of bravery.
I don't think I have met a kinder, more respectful, warmer group of individuals. Vicki and I sat in awe, silent witnesses to a very special group of people.
Their tenacity and stoicism was wonderful to hear about and witness.
Thank you,
Rod Bryans
Rod Bryans
P.S. For more images of Liberation days from previous events https://liberationgallery.blogspot.com/