Guernsey together? Parishes apart

My parents were living in Guernsey during the Occupation, a time that had a profound effect on both their families. At just 18 years old, my mother became the head of the family as her father had died at the beginning of the Occupation and it was her responsibility to take care of her mother and two younger brothers. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her, especially at the end of those five long years when they were hungry and frightened. Liberation marked the end of a time of worry and hardship and was celebrated by thousands of islanders who hurried to Town to greet the liberating forces with sheer joy and relief.

Each year on 9 May when the celebrations continued to mark the island’s freedom, my mum would make her way to Town.

‘This is my day,’ she’d say. ‘I’ll never forget why this day is so special.’

And off she’d go to spend the day in Town, soaking up the atmosphere. It was her day indeed. We’d go along to share it with her. We’d laugh. We’d cry. Emotions were high and hard to suppress. She’d recall her memories and we’d listen to her stories. Tears would well up in her eyes at the sound of the bands playing and we’d watch the parade with our hearts bursting. We’d wander along the seafront, meeting up with family and friends we hadn’t seen for a while, reminiscing about days gone by and enjoying the celebrations together. The floats, festooned in their red, white and blue flags, drove slowly past and from those, sweets were tossed into the eager hands of children watching the parade. Army trucks, vintage cars and motorcycles joined the cavalcade with people dressed in 1940s costumes and music from that era and spectators wearing red, white and blue adding to the atmosphere. We’d stay in Town all day – we didn’t miss a thing.

Even though my mum has died, I still feel that Liberation Day is her day. I somehow feel it’s my duty to continue to celebrate for her and remember the freedom that came at the end of the Occupation. I still feel the emotion to this day. Each year I go to Town and I shed a tear or two when I hear the bands begin to play. I won’t forget what that day meant to my mum and many other islanders like her. I want to share her experiences and pass on the reasons why this special day is such an important part of our family’s past. We have some very young children in our fold now and they should know our island story. It’s their heritage.

This year, as we emerge from our ‘Covid Occupation’ we can, maybe, have a real idea of what five years of occupation must have been like. Imagine a five-year lockdown. Think about it.

We are just emerging from two years of restrictions where we have had to be careful, isolating, shielding, staying at home and keeping away from family and friends. And yet how are we celebrating on 9 May this year? By creating parish bubbles. Surely this is the last thing we all need right now.

We should, now and always, celebrate as one whole island, one whole community, Guernsey Together. And we should celebrate, as we have done so all these years, in Town where our Liberation took place in 1945.

Yes, times change. I embrace change. But this is a part of our history. And you can’t change that. My new book about Percy was supposed to be a story about what’s happening today, not about what is now, sadly, history.

I live in the Forest parish, but I know where I’ll be on 9 May even if I’m celebrating on my own.

A suggestion – with a little thought and careful planning we could have both – celebrations in Town for those, like me, who prefer to celebrate together as an island community, and also events in each parish for those who wish to celebrate nearer their home.

A compromise for St Peter Port could be something like this – for those wishing to celebrate in Town, the morning parade and church service takes place as usual. The castle would be open with musical performances all day. The cavalcade could travel along the seafront and back to the roundabout before turning up St Julian’s Avenue to continue on its journey through the parishes. It would only be a slight detour. And maybe the drive along the seafront could include a marching band, just for that stretch of the cavalcade. (There should be no need for barriers as we are all used to managing traffic along the front and the road would only need to be closed for a short time during the parade.) One marquee on one of the piers with a band performing 1940s music would be enough of an event. OK, it wouldn’t quite be the same without the static display of vehicles, but there are now more cafes along the seafront where people can enjoy meeting up with family and friends to watch the cavalcade go by. There doesn’t need to be a street market or all-day entertainment. It doesn’t have to be big and it doesn’t need to be loud. A stroll down to the castle to listen to the music there and maybe a cuppa in the marquee might just be enough before the fireworks to end the day.

That’s what I think, anyway.

MEGS BAILEY

Forest