081 Victory Place Whanganui, street scene 2017
Reason for the name
This Whanganui street was named in celebration of Vicotry after WW2
Today, the hand gesture — index and middle finger extended, palm outward—is as innocuous and ubiquitous a token of greeting or farewell as one is likely to see, anywhere. In fact, one would be hard-pressed to find a group portrait of youngsters, grown-ups, teens—in any culture—where at least one person in the photo is not flashing what most of us know as a "peace sign."
The redoubtable fellow Winston Churchill, however, is hardly a hippie, and in his hands the symbol is far more freighted than a laid-back, "peace man". He is, of course, the British Prime Minister who guided England through the darkest days of World War II—especially when Great Britain effectively stood alone against the forces of the Reich, which had overrun the rest of Europe. Churchill was not knighted until 1953, and so was not "Sir Winston Churchill" until after the war.
Churchill, of course, is probably the one historical figure most closely identified with the "V for Victory" sign in use among the Allies for much of the war. Another Briton, Ringo Starr, is famous today for throwing out the symbol, as a peace sign, in any and every imaginable situation; but it was Churchill who first made it his own.
On the day—July 19, 1941— Churchill first endorsed the "V for Victory" effort in a speech to his compatriots a gesture as one of those unlikely strokes of genius that, while by their very nature symbolic, occasionally serve to unite and inspire millions. It's also worth noting, in passing that employing the "V" sign as a gesture of defiance and solidarity was first suggested in January 1941 by the liberal Belgian politician, Victor de Laveleye. He encouraged the use of the symbol because V stood for both victoire ("victory" in French) and vrijheid ("freedom" in Dutch).Finally, we should point out that when Churchill—the son of a British Lord and an American mother from a family of enormous wealth—first began using the V sign in public, he frequently held his hand with the knuckles facing outward, perhaps because he was so often clutching a cigar. His staff had to inform him that gesturing in that manner was the British working-class equivalent of flipping the bird. For the rest of the war, and the rest of his life, Churchill made sure that there could be no possible doubt about the message he meant to send with those two famous fingers.
V for Victory: Celebrating a Gesture of Solidarity and Defiance by Ben Cosgrove July 04, 2014
Author: The Poppy Places Trust
Britain celebrated victory in World War Two with numerous events all over the country. All were tagged as VE Day events although they took time to organise and took place sometime after VE Day itself. VE Day was the day of Victory in Europe on 8 May 1945. VJ Day, the day victory was declared over Japan, took place two months later on 15 August 1945 and marked the end of all hostilities.
The celebrations were wide-ranging, limited only by imagination and money. Some took time to set up but many were spontaneous.
There was a military parade through Edmonton. It took place in Fore Street, starting at Noel Park and it was saluted by the Mayor outside the Town Hall. My uncle who was in the Home Guard was involved. I remember climbing into a Bren Gun Carrier, a small tank, with lots of other children outside the town hall and speeding to the Angel pub and back.
We also had street parties. People put their tables and chairs out into the street. In our street these spanned nearly half the length of the street. A stage was erected in the middle of the street and there was music, light, and people singing, glad to be alive.
In the evening we went to a dinner and dance in the ballroom above the Regal Cinema. All the street lights that were still working came on, and to walk home and see the lights on in every house blazing out, it was magic after those long years of war, some of the shops had their windows ablaze with light.
There was also a bonfire. Life was going to get better from now on.
Yet some of the houses had their curtains drawn with the residents shut inside. When these people did come out to watch they would be crying. We were told that these families had lost the man of the house or one of the grown up children while serving in the forces.
Peter Johnson
https://www.1900s.org.uk/ww2-victory-celebrations.htm
Victory in Europe (VE) Day
Germany surrendered in the early afternoon of 7 May 1945, New Zealand time. The news became known the next morning, with huge headlines in the morning papers. But the acting prime minister, Walter Nash, insisted that celebrations should wait until British Prime Minister Winston Churchill officially announced the peace, which would not be heard in New Zealand until 1 a.m. on 9 May. So on Tuesday, 8 May, when everybody felt like celebrating, Nash told the country by radio that they should all go to work and that VE Day would be on the 9th.
Celebration by instruction
The feeling of victory was in the air, but no-one was inclined to let off steam without official authorisation ... The mayor of a local body hit the nail on the head when he remarked, 'In 20 years' time, school children will be asked to define the word anti-climax, and the answer will be "March 8, 1945".'
New Zealand Herald, 9 May 1945
Most New Zealanders accepted the edict. They were not 'inclined to let off steam without official authorisation'. Only Dunedin bucked the trend. There, the holding of the university's capping parade released the inhibitions. By midday the factory workers had downed tools. The town hall bells were rung, and the mayor held a short ceremony in the Octagon. Even then, this spontaneous celebration never exceeded the bounds of decorum.
On VE Day itself weeks of official preparation rolled into action. Citizens were woken by bells and sirens, and flags quickly appeared. At the Government Buildings in Wellington there were speeches by the governor-general, the acting prime minister and the leader of the opposition. The American, Soviet and New Zealand national anthems were sung, and only then, after midday, did official local ceremonies start.
These local programmes of events, which generally extended over the next day, 10 May, which was also a public holiday, were highly orchestrated affairs. There were bands parading, community sing-songs, thanksgiving services (often held at the local war memorial), and, in smaller places, bonfires and sports programmes for the children and victory balls for the adults. In Wellington music was played at three sites, and there was a victory service at the Basin Reserve. In Christchurch the Trades Council organised a People's Victory March in which 25,000 paraded from Latimer Square to Cathedral Square singing patriotic ditties.
The organised ceremonies were in part designed to keep the lid on more spontaneous celebration. There was, of course, plenty of spontaneity – the pubs were full, and in Wellington there was broken glass in the streets, and government documents and confetti were thrown out of windows. There was singing and dancing in the streets and strangers kissing. People joined together in crocodile lines and took part in impromptu street theatre. But it never got out of hand. There was little damage to property, and in both Wellington and Auckland, there was just one case brought before the courts the next day. Elsewhere, citizens were complimented on their 'commendable restraint'.
Victory over Japan (VJ) Day
VJ Day, like VE day, showed public regulation at work. Again the preparation had been considerable, and the celebration went more smoothly. The news of the Japanese surrender arrived in New Zealand at 11 a.m. on 15 August.
The sirens immediately sounded, a national ceremony was held, and the local celebrations followed. Once more there were parades, bands playing, thanksgiving services, bonfires, dances and community sports. Once more the beer flowed, and there were streamers, whistles and dancing in the streets. Again there were two days' public holiday.
There were also some revealing differences. In Auckland, where there were few organised events, the city went out to enjoy itself the moment the factory whistle sounded. At first it was simply people drinking, dancing and scattering confetti. Then some rowdy people began throwing bottles. Windows were smashed, and people were hurt. By the evening, 51 people had been taken to hospital and 15 tons of glass lay in the roads.
A merchant seaman remembers - Jim Blundell
VJ Day we actually had arrived the night before in Auckland. And if I remember right, well the whole city went bloody mad. The following morning it was reputed that they swept up five ton of broken bottles. They went nuts ... I had a cousin who was in the navy, fell off a tram and nearly killed himself, pissed ... I went ashore with my wife on the afternoon, Christ, man, they were rooting in the bloody house bar, they were rooting in, you know. Oh, it was all on.
I believe a lot of people who came out, and they had the churches open in the afternoon for thanksgiving or whatever, parents who had lost sons or daughters, were disgusted. They were really upset over it, you know.
Merchant seaman Jim Blundell interviewed by Neill Atkinson, 2004.
The next day, although the crowds were much smaller, drunken hooligans returned, and the police arrived in numbers to restore civil peace. In Wellington inclement weather reduced the numbers in the streets – instead people crowded into the hotels, while in Christchurch another People's March was less successful, with some prominent employers being concerned that the unions had taken the lead.
Everywhere it was noted that people in uniform attracted less adoration than in May. New Zealanders were enthusiastic about peace on VJ Day, but, by comparison with VE Day, the unity of war had begun to weaken and was being replaced by some of the social conflicts of peace.
