The Wingham Advance-Times, 1942-03-19, Page 7•
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ENGLAND'S NEW PRIMATE AND WIFE
r
The Most Rev. William Terepid, new Archbishop a Canterbttry,
IhoWti with his wife eri their ardval at London. recently, The new
1priretto 0± Ungland was Iorrnerly Arehbithop of York. 1Ie suecceded
MM. COSMO Gordon fang on the Iatter's retitatacat.
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Conditions In Great Britain
and 'Other Countries
As seen and written by
Hugh Templin, Editor of the Fergus News-Record,
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The Duchess of Kent cuts the birthday cake, as- Kent is seen seated at LEFT, The Beaver club is
sistzd by Mr, Vincent Massey, as the Beaver club in the rendezvous of Cariadian troops in leoMleue
Leaden celebrated its second birtbda26. Tile Duke of
Co live enywhere else. No place like
London! And here while they
leave two houses standing, But there's
the entrance to your hotel across the
street, sir."
We parted and I edged my way
carefully across the •Strand, and passed
• through the revolving door into the
bright lights,
VITAMINS NEEDED
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vegetables, always pour boiling water
on vegetables start cooking ant The Health League' of Canada in a
recent bulletin says: To keep healthy don't use too much v you must have vitamins and you must ! `'getable water .fOr
have them regularly. You can't fill up Soda.
on vitamins today and expect them to
be much good to you next . week.
You can sedure your requirments of •
vitamins by eating each day-
3 glasses of milk.
6 slices of vitamin- rich bread with
butter. (whole wheat bread, or
white bread made With special
fir-ur or with special vitamin-richi
yeast).
1 serving of meat.
1 egg.
1 serving of potatoes.
1 serving of green-leaf or yellow
vegetable.
1 glass of tomato, orange, or grape-
fruit juice.
1 serving of oatmeal porridge or
whole wheat cereal.
Cooking rules that will retain a.
See The Daily Diet Listed Below
of it; save your
soups; never use'
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General MeNaughton. at War Plant
military leader dispensed with
ceremony, climbed in and out
among the machines, and fired
dozene of penetrating questions
at the men whO keep the war
industry humming. He won the
workers regard by his democratic
attitude and genuine interest and
they won his praise for their
speed and craftsmanship in the
volume production of military
vehicles for his army.
in the West End of London. Perhaps
you have seen .pictures of it in days
of peace. It has been an enemy target
and it looks rather different now, but
we thought it had been designed with
bombing in mind, for much of it is
underground. We decided that when
the Hun knocks a bit off the top, the
staff just moves down one storey far-
ther into the cellar, but I cannot vouch
for that.
It isn't an easy building to enter,
for it is guarded by both police and
soldiers. One has to have a pass and
a definite appointment to get past the
soldier who stands with fixed bayonet
beside a portable bomb shelter in the
main hallway,
It was abotit 10,30 when I came out,
showing another pass at the door be,
fore I could get out. I had done my
broadcast from a basement room, two
storeys below the surface of the earth,
It hadn't been an ordeal, in spite of
the sign that said that we would be
warned if enemy bombers were direct-
ly overhead, and would we please con-
tinue as long as possible after the
first warning sounded. There is much
less formality about the broadcasting
in the B.B.C. than in studios on this
side of the ()teen. I soon felt quite at
home. When the director learned about
the anniversary, he insisted that I add
a personal message to ,my .wife. I ap-
preciated his thoughtfulness.
There was no taxi in, sight as I
came out into the blackout, but it
was a moonlight night and I was used
to the blackness by this time, so I
started off. It isn't hard to find one's
way in London. The moon was in the
south and the Thames lay in that di-
rection.
At a corner in Regent street, I stop-
ped to check up with a policeman. He
was standing outside his little brick
bombeshelter. Every main corner has
one of them. They would not hold
more than two or three persons, hud-
D YNAMIC • commander of the
Canadian army, Lieutenant-
General A. G, L. MeNaughton
shows intense interest in the pro-
duction of "tools of war" in the
great Ford of Canada plant at
Windsor.- In a typical attitude
with his general's cap tucked
under his arm, the soldier-scientist
quizzes F, Millmun, machine shop
superintendent, about the opera-
tion of one of the thousands of
machines in the plant, Canada's
Many People Still Sleep
In Shelters In London's
Undergrotund Stations
This is the twelfth in the series
of articles written exclusively for
the weekly newspapers of Canada liy
Hugh Templin, editor of the Fergus
News-Record. He flew to Great
Britain as a guest of the British
Council and was given an opportun-
ityto see what is being done in Brit-
ain, Ireland and Portugal in war-
time. ,
This series has stretched out and
this story will ,complete the twelve
that I originally planned to write. It
seems that there has been so much
to tell—much more than I though
when I arrived back in Canada. -
For the twelfth story, I am choos-
ing one of the simplest of them all,
.and yet one of the hardest to do. So
-many people want to know what Lon-
-don is really like in wartime, with the
blackout and the bombing. So many
.ask for a description, yet it is hard to
e-describe London, as one really sees it,
particulary at night when the eye sees
little. There have been so many des-
criptions and yet most of them fail
to paint a true picture. '
Perhaps I should not try, when , so
many experts have failed. But it ought
to be easy enough. I'll take one even-
ing walk and tell about it, as I wrote
-it down after reaching the light and
-warmth of my room at the Savoy,
It was the night of October 1st,
and, as it happened, the anniversary
-of my wedding — the first time I had
'been away from home on that date
in 20 years of married life. It was my
turn to bi;oadcast a message to Can-
ada. that night and I had sent my wife
a cable to be listening. I hoped she
er.votild hear my voice, at least.
The British Broadcasting House is,
• I was passing a block of stately
apartment' houses. Most of them ap-
peared to be intact. Then there was
a gap where several had been blown
out into the street. The rubbish had
been cleared away, but the moon
shone down on a blank white wall,
studded here and there with little fire-
places and against the sky a row cif
about 20 chimneys stood silhouetted
against the midnight blue.
In the next block, it was stores that
had suffered. Sometimes the window
was just a great, gaping hole and the
inside of the store wasn't there. On
either side, the windows had been
boarded up, bu the stores were evi-
dently carrying on, though. I couldn't
read what was on the little signs nail-
ed to the boards.
Nb lights of any kind were to be
seen except the traffic lights -"at the
main corners and the single, shaded
headlamps of approaching cars.* The
traffic lights were tiny red and green
crosses cut in sheets of metal that had
been fitted over the lenses. The red
and green looked rather decorative,
but when the yelloW came on, it look-
ed unlaWfully bright for the five sec-
onds it remained. The Car lights made
only dim moving circles on the pave-
ment as they passed.
I found 'myself, bye and bye, in
Piccadilly Circus. Loyal Londoners
claim that, this has the busiest traffic
of any place on earth in normal times.
It certainly hasn't now. Occasional
taxis slipped past, and buses with
their windows covered with some
opaque substance with tiny holes
scraped in the centre of each -Window
pane so that a passenger can look out
with a single eye, The statue of Eros
is no longer seen in the centre of the
Circus. It is covered with a cone-
shaped protection against bombs and
the boards on the outside are plastered
with signs advising the onlookers to
buy bonds. (I saw them in daylight
'several times.)
I had missed a tour of the air raid
shelters a few nights before, but I
recalled that the most famous of them
all was in the Underground station
below Piccadilly Circus. I went down
the stairs and into the bright light of
the station.
My travelling before that time had
been above ground. This was -my first
visit to the Underground. The streets
may have seemed deserted but there
were lights and action and crowds be-
low the surface. A long line moved
slowly past a window marked 11/2 d
and another line past the 2d wicket.
Moving stairways seemed to go down
into the bowels of the earth in every
direction, Evidently this was, just the
vestibule.
Sleeping Under the Ground
'I appealed to another contsable. I
explained who I was, where I had
come from and what I wanted to see.
He called to another man in blue uni-
form: "Here, mate, will you watch
things for me a few minutes," and
then herded ate past a ticket turnstile
and down an escalator. It was 75 feet
long or more, but that was just the
beginning. We walked down some
stone steps and took another escalator
for another 80 feet or so, past rows
of theatre posters and other advert-
isements.
I really wasn't prepared for what I
saw, London hadn't been bombed in
months, yet there were several hun-
dred people sleeping beside the sub-
way tracks, The trains came racing
out of the darkness, like great cater-
pillars, stopped a moment, and went
on again. The ,platforms were none too
wide, but all along 'the walls were
rows of men 'and women sleeping on
the tiled floors, with blankets over and
ukder them,
In. some parts of the "tubes," there
were rows of double-deck cots along
the walls, The cots bore numbers and
the same .people occupied thou night
after' hight. Spine of theta had been
fixed tip a bit, with blankets hanging
down in front, like the curtains of a
berth on a train, But most of them
were open to the gaze of hundreds
who passed by,
I. There were. more women than men
1 4314 they were in various stages of un-
theee, Some never took off their
elothes at all; other women were com-
ing out of the lavatories with pyjamas
or •nightgowns showing below their
dressing gowns, I saw no children
over a year old, but there were three
babies, one of them very tiny. An old
couple, well dressed, sat together on
the stone floor, taking their things
out of an expensive-looking suitcase,
A stone stairway ran up '20 steps
or so, Lying on it were sixaor seven
men, They weren't .crosswayS on the
steps, because that would have imped-
ed traffic, but they were lying up the
stairs. The sharp, metal-bound edges
dug into their sides in three or four
places, brut they slept on, while hun-
dreds walked past them and the trains
thundered by 20 feet away. I would
not have believed it if I had not seen
it.
My guide took me down to a lower
level. There were more bunks, At the
end of the row was a temporary first
aid post, with two nurses in unifrom,
At a counter nearby, three girls were
selling tea, coffee, cakes and sand-
wiches.
I was more moved by these things
than I had been since I arrived in
London, but to the constable it was
an old story. He was scornful: "A lot
of foreigners what hasn't got any guts,
sir, or lodging house folk what won't
pay their rent. You can see for your-
self, sir!"
I could see—a strangely assorted
folk, They looked different to me than
they, did to him: He may have been
right, but I thought. I saw behind it
the homes that had, been destroyed and
people with no place to go where they
felt safe. Surely it took more than
an ordinary terror to make people live
like that: Yet lie may have been right:
after all, it was five months since the
last bombing of that part of London.
As we.went back upstairs, my new-
found friend and guide complained
about the Government in a way that
sounded thoroughly Canadian. The in-
come; tax was unfair, he said. Here
he was, working for two days out of
every' week for the Government. He
had been retired on a pension and they
called him back to work—and then
taxed his pay and pension as well.
Yet he had a young nephew on the
south coast--a publican, he was—that
didn't have anything to do because
his pub was in a prohibited area. He
got a job as a carpenter, though he
had no training. Building defence
works, he was, and still at if, and he
gets £8 or £10 a week. He keeps
changing from one job to another and
nobody ever checks him up and he
never paid any taxes. They say Bevin
favors the trade unions anyway.
It sounded familiar. I thought of the
carpenters at Camp Borden and, a
number of other complaints back
home,
The constable had other criticisms
to make while he had the ear of the
Press, The Army should be helping
the Russians. He had a son in the
army for two years, just doing noth-
ing. Conscription wasn't fairly enforc-
ed. A lot of young fellows get free,
though they are calling up men of 45
now. He pointed to two young chaps
in evening clothes (about the only
ones I Saw so dressed in London).
They were drank and leaning on each
other. The constable said he saw the
same ones every day. Why weren't
they in the Army?
I didn't know, so I said good-bye
and reached the upper air again.
Walking along Piccadilly, I passed
several groups of loving couples. The
men were mostly sailors. Some of
them were singing. They had their
arms around the girls. It was just dark
enough for that.
I caught up to a pair not so loving.
There' was moonlight enough to see
that he was an officer in the R,A.F.
The woman said: "Well, I hope you
are proud of yourself after that ex-
hibitionl" The voice was full of bit-
terness. I thought he might hit her,
gone,
but theyturned in a doorway and. were
At Leicester Square, I paused, for
theme are several streets. (You know
the lines of the song, of course —
'Good-bye, Piccadilly; farewell, , Lei,
cester Square.") I stood at the curb
looking at 'the streets across the circle.
shortish lady came along and
bumped into me. There wasn't any
need: the sidewalk was wide and it
wasn't really dark,
"Sorry, sir," she said, so I asked tier
which way to time Strand.
"Down that way," she said, "But
I ant going this way. You coming this
way?"
"No thanks!" I said and continued
on my way south.
Trafalgar Square was familiar to
me, day or night, I .turned down past
a bombed church and an ambulance
passed use in the darkness with its
bell clanging, and stopped at the next
corner. As I walked past, a lady on
a stretcher was taken M the little door.
The- last time I had been past that
same corner, a friend had pointed to
that saute door. "That's where they
took me the night I smashed up my
ear in the big blitz," he had said. That
Was the first time I had ktioWn he had
been bombed,
Thursday, March 19th, 1942
WINGHAM ADVANCE,TIMES
prAVTI? CRI,P13RATES grr: NO ElPTHP.4 Y 'died elose together, but they do give
p rotection)lintcrs, front blasts and flyingsi
The constable seemed surprised
when I asked if I was headed in the
right direction for the Savoy,
"yes, sir," he said. "You are—but
it's' a long way, sir. You wouldn't be
thinking of walking that fail"
I assured him 'I was dud wondered.
if any constable in any other large
city in the world would have inen so
polite about it,
I had my little pocket torch — the
kind we call "pen-lights" in Canada,
f••:ven that was too bright for the Lon-
don blackout, unless, covered with a
leyer•of blue tissue paper, That night,
1 had no need of it, The moon gave
light enough,
The main streets is the West End
have suffered from the bninbing. As
I walked along, it seemed that the
vacant spaces were at more or less re-
gular distaeces. It seemed as though
a German pilot might have gone up
one side of the street and do'Wn the
other, letting his high explosives drop
as quickly as he ,could turn the bomb
lever.
I caught up to a very fat man at
the next comer. He looked congenial,
"Is this the Strand?" I asked.
knew it was, but that might be an
opening.
"It is that," he said, "though it's
not like it used to be in the old days
when it was eo full of traffic that you
couldn't cross it anywhere herebouts."
He turned to me. "You're an Amery
ican and don't remember it?"
I explained I was a Canadian.
"I knew it was or the other," lie
said, evidently thinking there was no
real difference.
On a beautiful night like that, it
was natural to turn to the weather
next.
"Last year," he said, "they came
over every night, moon or no moon,"
(Hitler is never mentioned by name
and the -Germans seldom: it is 'he' or
'they.') "About half-past eight, it was.
You could set -your watch by it. One
hundred and sixty-eight nights with-
out a break. Hell, it was. But I'd rath-
er be in London in a blitz than have