Well, we finally did it! And for the more prurient amongst you, I am talking about winning the war, rather than anything that me and Raymond might have got up to, but if you must know, we finally did that as well. Any road, we finally won the war an’all. Old Hitler did us all a favour by blowing his ruddy brains out in his coal bunker, although why he had to get his girlfriend to join him I don’t know. Imagine being in a relationship with a bloke like that. I’d have told him. “You blow your brains out if you want to Mr,” I’d have said. “But if you think that I’m going to do the same you’ve got another think coming. It wasn’t me who started declaring war all over the place, and you’ve only got your stupid self to blame!” Knowing Hitler he would have done a bit of shouting and banging his fists, and maybe even tipped a few bits of furniture over, but he wouldn’t have changed my mind. I don’t care who he was, he was only a man, and in my experience they always give in in the end, so after all the bluster I would have expected him to trot off to the coal bunker and blow his ruddy brains out on his own. I expect that I would have had a bit of explaining to do when the allies took over, but I reckon that if I honestly didn’t know what he was really like when I started seeing him, they couldn’t be too hard on me. And if I had known what he was like I wouldn’t have carried on with him would I? (Not that I ever did, this is all hyperthermial, so to speak.
What with Hitler out of the road, the Germans soon came to their senses and surrendered, and we had VE Day parties that were even more exciting than the ones we had back in 1918. We even had Jackie Brewer and his Glenn Miller Tribute band playing. Raymond was away until after VJ Day though, and I saved myself from getting too excited through the summer, although it was a grand one and no mistake.
Without Hitler on the scene any more, there didn’t seem to be much use for Winston Churchill any more either. I mean, we were all grateful to him for making us believe we could win the war and all that, but once the job was done, anyone with any sense could see that we needed socialists in, rather than the ruddy Tories if we were to build a land fit for heroes.
So we ended up with Clement Attlee as the Prime Minister, even though I reckon Herbert Morrison would have done a better job. Still. A proper Labour government with a proper majority was a ruddy good thing in my book, and they did a lot of good too, in what turned out to be difficult circumstances.
Doris’s Pop Pick of 1945: “I’m Beginning to See the Light” by Ella Fitzgerald with the Inkspots. A lovely piece of music for when the clouds of war started to lift, and romance was in the air.