Sonia Hillsdon

Jersey Occupation Remembered

Fascinating details - often described in their own words - of the lives led by Islanders, both adults and children, during the German Occupation of Jersey.  

From the book:  

Them and Us

'One never feels really at ease anywhere' - sums up the pervading atmosphere engendered by the German presence in Jersey. What were they going to do next? For the majority of Islanders, however, that fear, flamed by rumour, was far worse than anything that actually befell them.

'Things that never happened were the worst feature of the Occupation.

You knew someone who knew someone who worked for the Commandant who had said that on Tuesday all the men of military age were going to be deported. When it didn't happen on Tuesday, well, it would be on Friday. If it wasn't this Friday, it would be next Friday. And so on. The majority of the German troops here wanted to co-exist peacefully with the Islanders. Many of them were not committed members of the Nazi party - they even tried to shield Jersey from the worst effects of Hitler's totalitarian commands. Before the Order to confiscate all wireless sets was confirmed in June 1942, the German authorities here had themselves gone to Paris in an effort to get the Order rescinded. Jersey, with no fighting or bombing, was considered a good posting and, on the whole, the troops responded by being as pleasant as possible.

'One couldn't fault their behaviour' was a general feeling. Many were impressed by the way the troops adhered to the 'terribly severe discipline' they were put under. Their singing as they marched was not spontaneous, they had to sing. The hold that officers had over their men stood one erring Jerseyman in good stead. 'My wife and I were sunbathing on a 'verboten' beach when some Germans came along. As they passed they saluted me - they thought I was a German officer with his Jersey girl friend!'

Drunkenness was looked on with disfavour and a boy at that time remembers one occasion when it was peremptorily dealt with: a crowd of rowdily tipsy Germans were turfed off the No. 9 double decker going from town back to St. Ouen by their own military police.

There was, though, one occasion which the Feldgendarmerie were not there to see. Some Germans, who had been enjoying a drink in the Victoria Hotel, suddenly spotted the porcelain figure of a stout man, wrapped round in his cloak, advertising 'Sandeman'. Immediately one of them seized it, gleefully shouted 'Churchill, Churchill' and ran off with it down Minden Place, angrily chased by the landlord.

Jarrolds £4.95
Order from the Société Jersiaise  

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