MUSIC, smiles and a feeling of comradery brightened the magnificently decorated Town Hall at this year’s annual Liberation Day breakfast.
Islanders filed into the room for a bright-and-early 7.30am start to the sound of Vera Lynn’s (There’ll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs of Dover ringing out plaintively from the speaker system.
Plates were promptly heaped with all manner of breakfast delights; the lively exchange of old stories intermingling pleasantly with the rustle of cutlery and the pouring of coffee and juice.
Across the meticulously laid-out tables were at least 70 attendees and a happy jumble of generations – with many Islanders who experienced the Occupation arriving with partners, younger family members and old friends.
Also in attendance were the children and grand-children of many War-survivors sadly no longer with us.
Frances Harris – who attended with her son Laurence – spoke of her father Leo and his love for what Liberation Day represented for all the people with occupation stories to tell.
“I grew up with all of these stories,” she laughed. “We’d only have to be out and he’d say, ‘can you see that over there? Can you see that little thing?’ and he’d have the whole story ready to go.
“For me it’s everything that’s involved with my Dad which is why I still love coming here – it’s his legacy and he loved it, and he really wanted us to come every year.”
Marion Rossler, who was a seven-month year old baby when the German forces arrived and five-years-old when they disappeared, attributed the preservation of first-hand occupation experiences as the biggest factor in “what makes this particular occasion so special”.
“Everybody here has an incredible story”, she smiled, peering round the room.
Mrs Rossler herself still remembers “the smell of carbine” hovering over Jersey during the Occupation, and the subsequent experience of “tasting chewing gum for the very first time” when British forces arrived in 1945.
Her father, she said, “lived from his wits”, while her and her older brother “scrumped” for food and made sneaky, illicit day-time trips to beaches cordoned off by the Germans.
The extent to which life took upon a new, surreal dimension when the invading forces arrived was made clear by Karin Porteous, who explained that she was born with a Nazi Swastika etched onto her identity card.
Although only several months old when the Cccupation ended, she still remembers 9 May 1945 as “the day that all of us were given our freedom.”
Ms Porteous’ husband Anthony Blythe echoed the sentiment.
He described the Liberation Day breakfast as being part of a “remembrance of the sacrifices that thousands of people made to come and liberate this Island”.
He added: “It recognises the sacrifices that the inhabitants had to go through during the five years, and the fact that people today can live in a free, democratic society.”
Liberation Day breakfast organiser and St Helier parish worker Elise Wetherall described the morning as a “fantastic celebration of the local community.”
She added: “I really enjoy being able to be involved with it every year and being part of the team that organised it.
“It’s always fantastic to see everyone come out and share their stories.”
