On the morning of September 3, 1939, the world felt a sea change. Britain’s declaration of war against Nazi Germany was not just a diplomatic decision; it was a moment that changed lives forever. In cities and towns across the country, people remember where they were when the news came, recalling the feeling of shock, fear and a strange mixture of resolve and disbelief. For many, the war had already begun in their hearts and minds, even before the first bombs fell.
The Calm Before the Storm
Britain had been walking a precarious line for months. Just a year earlier, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain had famously declared “peace for our time” after signing the Munich Agreement, which handed the Sudetenland to Adolf Hitler’s Germany in the hopes of averting conflict. The agreement, however, proved to be little more than a temporary respite. Hitler’s ambitions were insatiable. By March 1939, he broke his promise and invaded the rest of Czechoslovakia, exposing the futility of appeasement. Then, on September 1, 1939, Germany invaded Poland, betting that Britain and France would not intervene. But Hitler had miscalculated.
Chamberlain, who had worked so hard to keep the peace, knew his country could no longer remain on the sidelines. On September 2, Britain issued an ultimatum to Hitler: withdraw from Poland or face war. When no response came by the deadline of 11 a.m. the next day, Britain was officially at war. At 11:15 a.m., Chamberlain addressed the nation from 10 Downing Street, his voice weary but firm. He declared, “You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me that all my long struggle to win peace has failed. Yet I cannot but believe that I could have done anything more or anything differently.” “A new kind of war”: the declaration and its immediate impact
Listening to Chamberlain’s broadcast, people across Britain were stunned by the gravity of the moment. In a world where radio was still a relatively new technology, millions were glued to their wireless sets, waiting for his words. For those who had lived through the horrors of World War I, the fear of another conflict was obvious. However, the younger generation had a different perspective. For them, this was a new and unknown experience. As one London shopkeeper later recalled, “We were not scared, not that we were young, because it was a new experience for us. As for the older people, they were very apprehensive about it.”
Almost immediately, life began to change. The government announced that all entertainment venues, such as cinemas and theatres, would be closed indefinitely. Large public gatherings, including sporting events, were also banned. The fear of air raids was very high. To prevent mass casualties, the government argued, it was necessary to minimise the number of people in any one place. The instructions that followed had a cynical efficiency. People were told that in the event of an air raid, sirens would sound in urban areas, giving them just minutes to seek shelter. The reality of this new war was clear: “Always carry your gas mask with you,” the government ordered. Children were to have their names and addresses sewn onto their clothes, a horrific measure to ensure identification if they were killed.
A day of mixed reactions
For some, the declaration of war was met with fear and anxiety. In London, the sound of the first air raid siren forced people to rush for cover, even though it turned out to be a false alarm. One woman later recalled, “I heard the siren, and I was all shaken up.” Another witness reported that dock workers were running for their lives when the siren sounded.
Still, for others, the feelings were more complex. Some people felt a sense of euphoria, a peculiar excitement that came with the realization that history was unfolding in real time. “It was the most wonderful thing to imagine,” one woman recalled, “to know that instead of being sick with terror, I felt very excited, very excited, very pleased with myself.”
While people were reacting in different ways, one man stranded outside when the siren sounded asked a homeowner if he could take refuge in the air raid shelter in their garden. To his surprise, he was told there was no room there. “I was the only person at this juncture who decided to take shelter,” the homeowner said, pointing to his crowded backyard, “and as soon as the siren sounded, all my neighbors climbed over the back fence and rushed into my shelter. Look at them… like a lot of bloody rabbits.”
“Where were you when the war broke out?”
Decades later, the BBC compiled these vivid memories into a radio program titled Where Were You the Day the War Broke Out? The reflections reflected a range of human emotions, from fear to confusion and grim determination. Newsreader Alver Liddell, who was in the room with Chamberlain when he gave his speech, recalled the unreal peace of that sunny September day. “People were seen strolling about in the sunshine – completely oblivious to what was happening