Enemy Occupation: June 1940 - December 1944

Enemy Occupation: June 1940 - December 1944

(from the Liberation 75 Booklet)

On a clear, warm day in June 1940, three low-flying German aircraft roared towards Jersey's southeast coast. To the horror of unsuspecting and unprepared Islanders, bombs crashed down and machine gun fire raked the ground. The attack left several dead, many injured, and a population cowed with uncertainty.

The shocking events of 28 June 1940 forcefully underlined an end to Jersey's 'phoney war'. After months of relative quiet, from mid-June a series of dramatic events had buffeted the Island. Among the most unsettling was the question of whether to leave or stay.

 

As France surrendered and British forces and officials departed, Islanders had been given a chance to evacuate. It was a difficult, stressful choice to make - with strictly limited time to decide. Leave, and face the uncertain prospects of unfamiliar life in the UK. Or stay, and face an unknown enemy widely portrayed in newspapers as ruthlessly cruel and aggressive.

The understandable initial response was a hasty one. Within a short time, 23,000 Islanders anxiously registered to depart on whatever vessels arrived to carry them away. It didn't take long, however, for more measured views to take hold.

Strengthened and calmed by Jersey's Bailiff, Alexander Coutanche, who announced his intention to stay, many stepped back from evacuating. This was the only home they knew after all. Family, friends, property, work were all firmly rooted in the Island's soil and soul. Right or wrong, leaving was out of the question.

By 28 June 1940, when the bombs fell, around 6,600 Islanders had gone. Most had decided to remain, however, and accept whatever fate brought. On 1 July 1940, they began finding out as German planes landed at the airport and occupation began.

At first, the decision to stay may have seemed the right one. Anxious to prove civilised credentials, the occupiers were correct and courteous. They permitted Jersey's government to continue, although reduced in size and powers. The police force and courts still functioned, upholding both Island laws and those imposed by the occupiers. Schools remained open, although obtaining teaching materials was a never-ending challenge as was the compulsory demand that pupils learn German.

Yet far off events would eventually shatter illusions. In response to Britain interning German civilians in Iran, Hitler ordered a retaliatory act against Channel Islanders. In September 1942, nearly 1,200 English-born residents were deported to internment camps in southern Germany.

A further Hitler demand dramatically shaped Jersey's occupation and changed the Island forever. Determined to hold these captured parts of Britain, he ordered the Channel Islands be fortified against invasion. By 1942, men and materials were pouring in.

Along Jersey's beautiful beaches, the Germans raised massive concrete walls and constructed menacing bunkers. Inland, sprawling artillery batteries and sinister tunnels spoiled pleasant fields and sleepy valleys. A tragic workforce toiled endlessly to fulfil enemy designs. Conscripted, forced or enslaved, they arrived from across occupied Europe.

 

Most shocking to witnessing Islanders were the class of workers termed 'slave labourers'. They had come from eastern Europe, captured as prisoners of war or seized from among civilian communities. From spartan camps across the Island, these unfortunates were marched out daily to work in the worst conditions while enduring the cruellest treatment.

Yet what could be done to oppose occupation, deportations and barbarism? With one German present for every four Islanders, active resistance was out of the question. Instead, many chose to make a passive stand: defacing German signs at night, concealing food from requisition, sharing news gleaned from banned radio sets, even slipping subversive notes into enemy pockets.

At great risk to themselves, a small but determined network of Islanders also sheltered escaped slave labourers, an act ending in imprisonment for some, even execution in one case.

Most people simply focused their attention on the strained business of daily life. While every attempt was made to continue as before, this became increasingly challenging as occupation ground on.

New laws restricted liberties. There were curfews to obey, banned organisations, limitations on public gatherings, forfeit of property and requisition of private cars.

Changed economic conditions stretched individual and family finances. Islanders receiving UK pensions lost their incomes. Occupation abruptly ended Jersey's tourism industry, severed routes to traditional export markets and curtailed businesses. Work — other than for the enemy - became increasingly scarce. Government schemes helped, constructing a road here, walls there, but as Occupation wore on the financial outlook was a dim one.

Daily essentials became increasingly scarce. Worn out clothes and shoes were patched and repaired rather than replaced. People burned wood during frequent shortages of gas and coal. Rubber hose replaced bicycle tires, acorns substituted for coffee beans, sea water for salt.

Requisitioning commissions carved up food stocks, so much left for Islanders, so much taken for the German forces. Yet never enough available to fully feed all. While every effort was made to diversify local farms into producing a wider range of crops, Jersey could not become self-sufficient in food. Everything was precious, nothing wasted. Luxury items became a distant memory, except to those who could afford to pay eye-watering black-market prices.

By mid-1944, as the Allies invaded Normandy, conditions for Islanders were sharply deteriorating even further. Shortages in food had already reduced rations considerably. With the American capture of St Malo in August, the flow of external supplies, including vital fuel and medicine, ceased.

Jersey was isolated, its occupiers under siege, its people facing the bleakest winter imaginable.

Some chose to escape. In tiny boats, they crossed wintery seas to the nearby French coast. Most, however, had no option but to remain. Their prayers were for higher powers to recognise Jersey's desperate plight and come, somehow, to Islanders' aid.

 

On 30 December 1944, the Red Cross ship SS Vega slipped into St Helier Harbour carrying a precious cargo of food parcels. Tense negotiations between Britain and Germany had come to a merciful fruition. Islanders would survive that last winter of occupation...just.

Gratefully, with the war in Europe clearly moving towards an end, Jersey could dare to look forward with rising hope to a longed-for liberation.