VE Day: Channel Islanders' cheers and tears – archive, 1945

The Guardian

08-05-2025

St Peter Port, Guernsey
I watched the final surrender of the German garrison in the Channel Islands, and half an hour later I saw the delirious joy of the freedom that surrender brought. I saw, as I landed with the first British soldiers of the forces of freedom, scenes that were almost indescribable – the tears and cheers which 22 men of the Royal Artillery released as they came to St Peter Port to take over the garrison, which had been commanded by the German Vice-Admiral Huffmeier.
This handful of artillerymen who went to take over an island with a garrison of ten thousand Germans, oldish soldiers, went ashore in a German trawler flying the White Ensign. The police inspector and a sergeant, Guernsey men, were the unofficial reception party on the dock, and both of them were choking back the tears when, speechless, they grasped our hands.
The tiny force formed up on the docks, fixed bayonets, and marched towards the dock gates. There, behind those gates, was a seething, cheering, crying mob of men, women and children. Over them the church bells of St Peter Port were clanging tumultuously, every house had its union jack and bunting, saved through five long desperate wearing years for this moment.
'They're British!'
Then the crowd broke through the dock gates – in one second those-gunners were marching like guardsmen; in the next they were torn from the ranks, kissed, hugged, cheered. 'You have been so long coming; we have waited so long for you.' 'British! They're British!' the islanders cried.
Somehow the soldiers re-formed. Two girls with great union jacks led them into the town. People rushed from their houses to join the crowd. The joy of people, who have been eating rabbit skins, getting 1½ lb of potatoes each week, who had that morning breakfasted on stewed cabbage leaves, was almost heartbreaking. One man told me he was smoking a cigarette for which he had paid 28s. I offered him one, and in a frenzied grabbing of hands the packet disappeared. They disappeared, I was told by an islander, just as all the dogs and cats have disappeared from the island – only these latter have been eaten.
Perhaps their one consolation was that the German garrison was even worse off. They have had no supplies for many weeks and no Red Cross ship has brought them heaven-sent parcels from Lisbon. In this overwhelming excitement many things were told me – that German soldiers were seen eating earthworms and grass, that nine of them had battered an old woman when she sought to protect her food – these were stories for which confirmation in the circumstances was impossible.
God save the king
The soldiers formed up on each side of the steps of the Court House, on which the officers of the landing party and Mr Victor Carey, Guernsey Bailiff, stood. As a command rang out a halyard was pulled and the union jack floated out in the soft sunlit breeze. One could hear the sob from the crowd. Then, first thinly, but rising to a great volume of sound, they sang God Save the King. They sang with a sob in their throats. Then they stopped, looked up again, and cheered. That to us all seemed the real moment of the liberation of Guernsey. Crowds welcome British troops on Jersey during the liberation of the Channel Islands, 13 May 1945. Photograph:The excitement intensified. The soldiers – their division sign is that quarter of the royal coat of arms which is the crest of the Channel Islands – were again engulfed. The Lieutenant Colonel and red-tabbed Captain – all of us – were covered with kisses, and a plump war photographer was presented with a bouquet of red, white, and blue sweet peas, probably meant for someone else. An American war correspondent was almost overwhelmed; his was the first United States uniform they had seen. And amid all these tremendous scenes of jubilation of a community half starving, half of the 40,000 population in slave camps in Germany or safe in Britain, bewildered German soldiers walked and cycled about the tasks still remaining to them.
They have suffered
An ineradicable hatred of the Germans has bitten deep into the souls of these Channel Islanders. They have suffered much. The gaunt greyness of hunger is in their eyes and faces. The old people have suffered most; the young children, nurtured at all costs, are nearly all fit and bonny.
Nearly all the men are drawn and haggard. They wanted, too, to know so much. 'Send us newspapers,' they said, thrusting Nazi propaganda sheets into my hands. 'When will more food come?' 'When will the Germans go?'
To-night, as we are leaving for England, Channel Islanders are cheering from motor-boats and rowing craft and overhead Allied aircraft are zooming and sweeping, firing coloured lights, which drop green, red, and violet over the freed and joyous Channel Islands. Disbelieving Nazis: PoWs at Bury say, 'It is all propaganda'
11 May 1945
Hundreds of German prisoners of war at Warth Camp, Bury, refuse to believe that Germany is defeated. Flags are flying from houses surrounding the camp and for two nights victory displays of fireworks, bonfires and celebrations have kept them awake until the early hours. But they still will not be convinced. 'It is all propaganda,' they tell the guards.
When the guards pointed to the first victory flags being hoisted the prisoners said it was in honour of a royal birth. Since the news was announced Germans who are not fanatical followers of Hitler have been trying to convince their fellow prisoners that it is true. On VE Day lines of prisoners listened to the camp interpreter telling them in German of their country's unconditional surrender to the Allies. In the camp a union jack was run up. Italian co-operators have been confined to their hostel at Burrs Mill, Bury during the two-day holiday.