KYQ4: Imperial War Museum

Portico of Imperial War Museum

Weeping Window of Ceramic Poppies at IWM

It was Remembrance Day and after the cold morning showers had passed we headed to the Imperial War Museum with the grandchildren. We arrived just as the service was finishing. Crowds had gathered to admire the cascade of ceramic poppies that draped the north facing portico of the building. It was my first visit to the museum.

I was pleasantly surprised that the exhibits included sections showing the living conditions in Britain during the dark days of World War II. The Anderson shelter reminded me of the one in my Great Aunt Doris's back garden that I used to paint every few years to earn some pocket money. There were exhibits of terraced houses in south London that had suffered regular bombing raids. The sleeping arrangements required the upstairs bedrooms to be abandoned. It took me back to stories about my father's grandmother and his mother's sister who survived a direct hit to their house in Manchester by sheltering under the heavy kitchen table that protcted them from the falling rubble.

As well as the exhibits of fighter planes, tanks, and small boats, there were examples of vehicles used in the North African campaign. These included a Chevrolet 30cwt truck used by the Desert Rats in the battles against Rommel. My father had been driving one of these at El Alamein and had been blown up by a landmine. He lost all his teeth but returned to active service within a month to complete the war in the Greek and Italian campaigns with the Eighth Army. He spent four years from the age of 19 to 23 as a soldier on the frontline but like so many others seldom talked about it until in his sixties when he and my mother began to make trips abroad for the first time in their lives. They revisited parts of Italy and Greece where he had fought in the war. Chios became their regular holiday haunt after he made contact with some of the local Greeks who had welcomed the British Army when they landed to free the island in 1943.

There was so much more to see but time was limited. On remembrance day we were made to think of the devastation to families of the 450,000 UK citizens who were killed in WW2. Similar numbers were lost in France and Italy. What surprised me from the exhibits was that this paled in comparison to Germany with 7 million, Poland with 6 million and well over 20 million Russians.

The most dangerous looking UK exhibit was the Spitting Image puppet of Mrs. Thatcher looking bellicose and obviously taking no prisoners. Her hawkish economic policies in the !980s had led to the collapse of traditional industries and seen unemployment rise to over 3 million or 12.5% of the workforce. The impact on families and communities is still evident in many old mining and manufacturing communities. Unlike the period after WW2 when there was a commitment to rebuilding the public realm and investing in education, housing, and health by governments of both main parties; there was no such public investment in the 1980s and many regions of the UK have still not recovered from the civil trauma caused by her pursuit of neoliberal economic policies.

As on all visits, the children demanded to explore the adjacent playground facilities. The blue skies, autumn leaves, ceramic poppies and the massive presence of 15-inch guns from dreadnought battleships provided a peaceful location for the playground equipment. It was miraculous the way that the freedom of the playpark rejuvenated tired children as they climbed the equipment commando style. Nearby the sinister spike of the Shard dominated the skyline and cast doubt on the sanity of having a capital city that sucks the wealth and investment out of the rest of the country.