(Photo by Robin Jackson, edited by me)
I’m living in a time warp right now. It’s the annual 1940s Weekend in Haworth. Thousands of visitors have descended on the village, many dressed in wartime costume. British sailors, soldiers and airmen are rubbing shoulders with American and Russian personnel. German officers are walking up the street beside French Resistance workers. There are period nurses and policemen; I’ve spotted a miner, a padre, an occasional spiv and lots of glamorous ladies in red lipstick and furs (there are also some less glamorous ones in rollers!). Children are dressed as evacuees and there are even babies in big old-fashioned prams.
Haworth’s steep, cobbled Main Street has been dressed like a film set. Sandbags are stacked around doorways; windows taped against possible bomb blasts. Shops sport signs warning of rationing. But to counter the gloom there’s live music, jiving in the streets and bunting strung from house to house. Winston Churchill is making intermittent speeches and there are regular victory parades. So maybe it’s V.E. Day after all.
I’ve become a land girl for the weekend. And also a marshal for the event (walkie-talkie in one hand, loud hailer in the other – oh, the power!). Despite the freezing cold, we’ve had a fabulous time today. If you’re within travelling distance of Haworth, do come along tomorrow and join in the fun. If not, then indulge in some 40s nostalgia by watching this slideshow I put together of the same event two years ago.
P.S. Promised to give a shout-out to fellow marshal, Michael. It was great meeting you, Michael, and far more fun freezing together than freezing alone!