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It was a bright,
sunny day. Crowds lined the seafront and sailors
lined the railings on the decks of mighty
warships. But anyone who mingled with the crowds would soon realise this was no Navy Days weekend. There was something else in the air that day as aircraft carriers HMS Invincible and HMS Hermes sailed out of the harbour on their way to unknown dangers in the South Atlantic.
Mixed with the naval pride and pageantry the British people have always loved, there was a sense of fear. And even of quiet, hidden terror. The loved ones who stood on the dockside and waved goodbye to the sailors shared a dread many of them could not share with anyone else. Of course he would be OK. Of course he would come back soon, with more tales to tell and stories for the children. But what if he didn't? What if he was killed or badly wounded far from home at the other end of the world? Many wives and loved ones were unable to give voice to these fears. Instead they laughed, waved and cheered as the seemingly impregnable ships glided past. The city came out that day to support its men who went to war and the ones they left behind.
War veterans who had seen it all before came to the seafront to see it again - knowing more than anyone else about what might lay ahead. Lining the seafront with them were office staff, factory employees and even dockyard workers who had received their redundancy notices just three days earlier. Of course many were there out of curiosity. But there was also a sense of duty. Everyone had their part to play, even if it was only by turning up and showing their support for the men of the navy and the British war effort. As in the dark times of World War II, the people of Portsmouth were needed on that day. And as in the past, the people of Portsmouth were not about to let the country down. |
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