War on the home front

Britain declared war on Germany at a quarter past midnight on August 5, 1914. In Kingston, the news caused much excitement, with almost a carnival spirit. No-one could foresee that life in the Royal borough would never be the same again.

The first men to leave Kingston for the Front that day were the Territorials.

They had returned to their homes at noon after a spell away on manoeuvres. By 3pm they had been called up. By 7.30pm the next day they had gone, after staff from Bentalls and Freeman, Hardy and Willis had spent a frenzied day at the Drill Hall in Orchard Road kitting out every man with shirts, socks, cutlery and boots.

A few days later, dense crowds gathered in the night at Kingston Barracks and the railway station to see off reservists of the East Surrey Regiment. They cheered and sang and waved their handkerchiefs, confident the men would be back within three months.

Shortly afterwards, the Secretary of War, Lord Kitchener, sent Captain H Clay of Kingston on an urgent recruiting drive. The town hall (now the Market House) was so packed that an overflow meeting was held outside in the Market Place.

Captain Clay wanted 3,000 Kingston men without delay, and he got them. Volunteers flocked to Kingston Barracks to enlist, sometimes as many as 600 in one day.

"The men arrived in boisterous high spirits, singing familiar and popular ditties with great gusto as they sped along the streets in motor cars and horsed vehicles, flying large Union Jacks," reported the Surrey Comet. "So enthusiastic has been the response to Lord Kitchener's call that this area has won the proud distinction of being the best in regard to the number of recruits attested."

What of the families left behind? On August 26, the Comet published the separation allowances payable to wives and children. Wives were to receive from 1s to 2s 2d a day (roughly 5p to 11p) according to their husband's rank. Girls under 16 and boys under 14 were eligible for 2d a day.

Bentalls promised to pay half wages to the families of all staff members on active service, while the Surrey Comet, the Lord Lieut of Surrey and the Mayor of Kingston, set up individual funds to help families in distress.

War fever took a vicious turn with the victimisation of anyone of German origin living in the area. A cruel example was the treatment of Mr S Wertheim, the German-born chairman of Hampton Council. He was a naturalised Briton, who had lived in the UK for 48 years, and given a lifetime of local public service.

Horrible insults were hurled at him at council meetings - he was even accused of being a spy - and on October 21 the Comet revealed he had been forced from office by normally staid councillors bawling: "We will address no German, and no German shall dominate us."

He retired a broken man.

Foreign-born tradesmen in Kingston had their premises wrecked by vengeful mobs. One victim was George Fischeim, proprietor of a hairdressing shop in Richmond Road.

Three hundred men from the nearby Sopwith aircraft factory rioted outside his shop, and smashed the windows. Fischeim was forced to give up his business, and the ringleaders of the riot were acquitted in the magistrates' court.

The Comet virtuously demanded that all Kingstonians of German origin "give evidence of their loyalty to the country of their adoption."

The result was the weekly publication of letters from families - many of whom had lost sons fighting for Britain - publicly asserting their loyalty in the most grovelling terms.

The carnival spirit soon evaporated. The casualty lists in the Comet grew longer. And as the wholesale destruction of British foodships by German U-boats led to severe shortages, food hoarding became a serious offence.

Police were allowed to enter and search any home of suspected of containing more than fortnight's supply.

Bread was so scarce bakers were forbidden to sell it until it was at least 12 hours old, and so less tempting to eat. Sugar was in such short supply that in 1917 a Surbiton baker was arrested for selling cakes with sugar on the top.

Meat could only be served one day a week in restaurants, and potatoes on two. Potatoes eventually became so scarce that Kingstonians had to go without unless they grew their own in a war food garden.

Many acres of land were taken for this purpose, including the Royal Paddocks at Hampton Wick, and trespassers on them could be arrested under the Defence of the Realm Act.

Bentalls caused a sensation on April 28, 1917, by advertising 12,000 lbs of potatoes "which we shall offer at the Food Controller's fixed price (without any profit whatsoever to ourselves) on Friday next commencing at 9am, in 6lb bags. Bags cannot be supplied. Post or telephone orders cannot in any circumstances be executed."

From dawn, queues stretched down Kingston's main street, and 2,500 lucky customers tasted potatoes for the first time in months. Four weeks later Bentalls had a further 17,000lbs - enough for 3,000 customers.

Food was so scarce that drivers and firemen on the London and South Western Railway sent a deputation to the Teddington food committee to complain that their wives could not give them enough food to sustain them during long spells of duty.

Communal kitchens were set up to save fuel, and prevent malnutrition.

A typical one was in Elm Road, New Malden, which offered half-a-pint of soup for 1d, meat pies at 3d and steamed pudding at 2d.

A packed meeting at Surbiton Assembly Room unanimously passed a resolution "that this meeting of citizens does hereby urge His Majesty's government to prohibit the manufacture and sale of intoxicating drinks during the period of the war. We consider it calamitous to destroy valuable foodstuffs in the manufacture of alcoholic beverages."

This, it should be said, was at a time when Kingston had a large brewery, a gin distillery and the biggest winery in Europe!

The major local event of the war was a huge bazaar organised in Kingston Market Place in June 1917 by novelist Winifred Graham of St Alban's Hampton. The whole town took a holiday, and more than £4,000 was raised for local war charities.

The goods on sale would make a modern antique collector's mouth water. Miss Graham had won the support of the Royal family, and wares included table linen that had belonged to Queen Adelaide, a hat plaited by Queen Victoria, one of George IV's nightshirts and pin cushions made from one of Queen Alexandra's gowns.

Queen Mary sent many gifts, all bearing cards in her own handwriting. And there were rifles captured by Lord Kitchener in East Africa.

The sufferings of the troops were so great that the main part of Kingston's war effort was providing parcels for them. Vaseline, safety pins, tobacco and peppermints were the most popular items, and the Comet published many moving letters of thanks from serving soldiers.

Also in demand were Bentalls' "Anti-Vermin Body Belts. Buy one today and give relief to your dear one at the Front. Only 2s."

Food shortages weakened public health. During the autumn of 1918 many died in a wave of influenza which swept the town and wiped out whole families. As the epidemic reached its height, undertakers couldn't cope adequately and corpses had to wait over a week fo burial.

But peace was in the air. Among the first to sense it was the Artistic Blind Company of Surbiton, which advertised in the Comet: "Be prepared for declaration of peace at any moment, and buy your flags at once."

News of the Armistice was issued by the Press Bureau at 10.20am on November 11 and immediately posted on the windows of the Comet HQ.

Within the hour, Kingston Parish Church bells were ringing and workers from the Sopwith factory had formed a long procession, headed by life-size effigies of "the butcher of Berlin and his son", which were burned in the Market Place amid scenes of the wildest excitement.

It was, declared many, the end of war forever!

For more visit www.surreycomet.co.uk/junesampson