Island farmers would have agreed, but their opportunity to maximize production was proscribed by constant harassment. Regulations forbade farmers to move cattle across various imaginary lines without permits, to lift or dispose of potato crops without permission, to thresh except under supervision, to sell garden produce except at the point of production, and to dispose of entire crops of potatoes and cereals other than directly to the states agricultural department.
The Germans seized private property of all kinds, and M
ü
lle
r declared such seizures were not contrary to the Hague Convention. In July 1942, Mrs Tremayne lamented the possible loss of her sewing-machine, and determined to hide her silver in the garden. Such confiscation continued
to the bitter end, and von Aufse
ss wrote in January 1945, 'Every garden hose, every old canvas sail, every curtain, tin of paint, roll of paper, old car, old tyres, everything but everything is demanded of us which we can still squeeze out of this poor little land.'
A widespread feature of Island life that reflected German confiscations was transport. There were some 12,000 motor vehicles on the two main Islands, and by 1942, apart from a few well hidden ones, these had all come into Germans hands. Between September 1940 and August 1941, vehicles up to five years old were called in, and owners offered a bond promising to pay the bearer the value of the vehicle six months after the end of the war. In fact, the valuation arrived at was usually a third of the actual price, and took no account of inflation. Petrol ceased to be issued for Island vehicles, with rare exceptions like doctors' cars, and tyres were confiscated. During 1942, all remaining vehicles were seized, and in September 1943, motor cycles were confiscated. In some cases, owners were infuriated to find they had to provide a service for the Germans. Their vehicles were requisitioned, but they were left responsible for maintenance and might be called upon to be drivers. On Jersey, 12 cars during the day and four at night were kept in readiness, while on Guernsey requisitioned buses were used to ferry troops to their camps. On Guernsey less than 50 motor vehicles were left in the hands of the populace, and the horse came back into general use.
With the disappearance of motorized transport, the bicycle came into its own. Selling for a few shillings in June 1940, by December they were costing £10, and by 1944 black market prices for cycles had reached £50. To keep them going every kind of improvisation was resorted to particularly as tyres wore out. Hose pipes with rope inserted were commonplace, and Wood noticed various advertisements including one offering an inner tube in exchange for food, and another a circular saw for a tyre. Children and old people suffered most, but the Germans rejected pleas of necessity including one from a schoolboy who would have to walk six miles, and another from a 75-year-old woman who wished to visit her 81-year-old sister. Orders went out to confiscate 150 bicycles in each main Island, and the states governments at first refused. But as usual they caved in when the Germans simply threatened to seize 150 at random, and pointed out the Island officials would be better able to decide on cases of need.
Damage to property was widespread and, apart from the houses of the rich which were treated with respect when billeting was imposed, there was scarcely a property that did not suffe
r. Mrs Cortvrie
nd described how, 'the appearance of most of the houses which the men occupied was rapidly reduced to that of slum tenement dwellings with broken and dirty windows covered with wire netting. What had once been neat and lovely flower gardens were transformed into heaps of filth and rubble." Properties taken over by Todt workers were said to be 'indescribable for filth and dirt'. On Guernsey, every cottage and house seemed to have been taken over for billeting, and on Sark Mrs Tremayne was always dreading her removal. She was lucky, and Grand Dixcart remained unoccupied, perhaps because the Germans preferred dwellings on main roads, or close to others, but for thousands of other people life was dislocated when an order like the following arrived: 'The houses ... must be vacated by 16.12.41. The owner is permitted to take away his clothing and family souvenirs only. The furniture and the effects such as carpets, curtains, lamps etc., must be left.'
Island authorities sent out forms to all households to obtain details of rooms, and furnishings, and a copy had to be posted near the entrance door. Householders were told to prepare part of the house for themselves, although the Germans often took this rather than the accommodation prepared for them. Billeting costs to be paid by the Island authorities included the use and repair of the building, its equipment, and any domestic utensils 'which may be considered necessary', and the provision of all main services. It was specifically stated that damage 'will not be compensated for by the German army'. The only crumb of comfort was that householders received a small billeting grant. This amounted to l/6d per soldier plus a further shilling for each subsequent occupant, and also for provision of a separate sitting-room.
What actually happened when a house was occupied by Germans varied immensely. Officers like 'von Aufsess lived well and treated their properties with consideration; the troops billeted on the Sherwills behaved with every politeness. In spite of their horror stories, two wartime diarists had to record the occupation of their own property, and did not find
it too unpleasant. Mrs Cortvriend had 'Oberle
utnant B' staying first who gave no trouble, and in the last year of the war 'Leutnant-Colonel G'. Although his Nazi views alarmed the Cortvriends, he seemed to confine himself to reading and giving tea-parties in the garden for admiring younger officers. Maugham had to provide night-time accommodation for 12 soldiers at his farm, and although they borrowed his domestic goods and tried to chat up his maids, their behaviour was not oppressive.
Others were less pleasant. The troops molested women, held wild parties and confiscated food and goods for themselves. A billeting officer's report des
cribed a house at Les Roque
ttes which the first German occupants had treated well while an officer was there, but after he left 'it was turned into a barracks. The sealed rooms had been broken into and everything ransacked. The dining and drawing room furniture had been removed. I took Lieutenant E. to view the damage at which he expressed regret, but said he did not see how compensation could be obtained from troops... who... had left the Island, probably for Russia.'
With ever increasing shortages of fuel, houses were subjected to plunder of wooden fixtures like furniture and doors for firewood.
Todt workers were far less welcome occupants than soldiers, not least because they were so grossly overcrowded. Molly Finigan ran a guest-house after the war which accommodated just ten guests. When it was used by Organization Todt, it housed between 40 and 50 ragged, filthy and verminous slave labourers. Floors and sinks were often used as toilets. The buildings were infested with rats, and there were outbreaks of typhus.
Public bui
ldings also suffered, as John Le
ale pointed out in May 1942 when he complained about the occupation of hospitals and schools. Mrs Cortvriend sadly noted how the school building where her children had gone became one of the first soldiers' billets. Frederick Martin has surveyed the impact of the Germans on church buildings in Guernsey which included nearly all the primary schools. He noticed the closing or occupation of schools at La Fosse, St Martin; Emanuel. St Saviour's (Baptist), St Andrew; Capelles, St Sampson; Delisles, Cast
el; Forest (Methodist), Vauxlebe
ts and Vimiera (Roman Catholic). The Island government had moved to Queen Elizabeth College, but later surrendered it for billets to try and reduce the pressure on ordinary people. Maison St Louis, Highlands, and Jersey College for Girls were among other educational institutions turned into billets, the first two for soldiers and the third for Todt workers.
The Germans showed scant respect for any but their own churches. War damage affected the town church in St Peter Port, destroying the windows, and other damage was done by machine-gun fire (Wesley Methodist church), or shells (Torteval, Methodist). Churches near the airport, like those at Forest, had to close although the Baptists reopened theirs at their own risk. Churches were used as stores and soup-kitchens. St Andrew's Congregational church at La Villiaze was used occasionally as a brothel and then became an ammunition store. St Anne in
Alderney
was used as a store and butcher's shop, although the bells were saved, two being found on the Island and two at Cherbourg.
Hotels were a prime target for occupation and destruction. In January 1942 Mrs Tremayne reported: 'The Bel Air Hotel is on fire and almost gutted ... What furniture was saved has been broken up for firewood for the Germans, lovely polished tables and chairs, blankets, linen and silver all gone.' The Germans moved on to Stocks Hotel where a month or so later they smashed up the furniture in the hall and dining-room and broke all the wall tiles by shooting at bottles.
In July 1943 officers in the Vie
ux Clos Hotel got drunk and smashed the furniture and windows while the Bungalow Hotel was demolished completely.
It was in October and November 1941 that the garrison of 300 arrived on Sark requiring billets. 'We had an awful scare', said Mrs Tremayne, when "all rooms and houses were to be ready for them'. Soon her neighbours were suffering. Mrs Sharp had 27 billeted on her. Mrs Rondel had six or eight in her house and had to submit to various indignities including the burning of her books to light fires. Her house was turned into a wireless station, an anti-aircraft gun crew was sited in the garden, and she lived in daily fear of air attack. Her compliance did her no good because when the troops were relocated she was ejected from her house at a few hours notice. So were many others including the old and ill. Miss Hale, an old lady over 80 who was soon to go blind, was one of those turned out, and Mrs Tremayne described how, 'Every window was flung open and pictures, beds, chairs and tables [were] thrown out and caught on the other side if lucky. I am going down to try and help her. Meanwhile she is surrounded with boxes and packing cases, still as chirpy as robin, and as brave as possible.'
Houses like Mrs Walbroath's were destroyed to make way for a road, while bungalows were smashed to provide artillery positions. Mrs Castle Brown's bungalow was moved and blew over a cliff injuring several Germans.
Scenes of such destruction met returning deportees, evacuees and servicemen as they had the eyes of the residents as they watched their homes destroyed and their island vandalized, virtually all done without punishment, and by no means all put right by compensation after 1945.
The Wretchedness of Everyday Life
The daily strain of life, particularly on housewives, was far greater than any experienced in Britain except at the height of the blitz. Mrs Cortvriend said people began to have dreams and hallucinations which were plainly the result of strain, and Mrs Tremayne often referred to hers. In one dream she was at a party eating all kinds of food and in May 1944, 'I dreamt I was in one of Lyon's tea shops eating wonderful spice cakes in great hunks and I saw piles of luscious red strawberries ... Our rations this week: little bit of salt, a bit of coffee, and about three quarters of a pound of flour, it's surely starvation diet for the bread is not enough ...' Old cookery books and novels with descriptions of hearty meals were quite afflicting, and Sibyl Hathaway said that after reading
Gone with the Wind
she felt every sympathy with Scarlett in the scene when she imagined bacon frying in the kitchen and the aroma of freshly ground coffee.
Far too many accounts of wartime life in the Islands imply real suffering due to shortages only began in the autumn of 1944 when the Islands were cut off from France. In fact, the early period of good living conditions expired during the winter of 1940-1. That December, both Leslie Sinel and Julia Tremayne described pleasant Christmas celebrations with roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, sprouts, plum pudding, mince pies, port and champagne.
This situation soon changed. The German buying spree in 1940 and the disruption of agriculture soon began to be felt in shortages, and by the end of 1941 shops opened only twice a week to dispense rations some of which were themselves distributed fortnightly only. Later many shops closed altogether, and there was a rush to buy up the last tins of fruit and other luxuries. By February 1941, Mrs
Tremayne
noticed there were hardly any clothes left in shops, and during the year many items like tea, coffee, fruit, rice and currants became unobtainable except at black market prices. Bread and potatoes, the main staples of diet, were rationed during the year, and by October an Islander listening to the BBC Kitchen Front broadcasts envied the people in Britain with their very different system of rationing.
During 1941 signs of malnutrition and poor health appeared. Some of the children began to 'look very weedy'. Julia
Tremayne
said that during the summer she had been 'seedy for weeks, feeling like a washed out rag',
and thought they were all beginning to get 'a bit nervy and edgy as things begin to get a little more scarce each week'. By the second winter, fuel rationing was in full swing with coal largely unobtainable, and wood controlled by a permit system. Gas and electricity were rationed to certain periods of the day. Mrs Tremayne had a reasonable Christmas lunch and a delivery of coal and logs, but her Christmas gifts showed the steadily deteriorating situation. She received sprouts, a candle, tea, aspirins, and some currants.