Run Rabbit, Run Rabbit...

We watched an old British movie last night, one that could be called technically inferior by purists. In one respect, though, Millions Like Us was brilliant because it was filmed in 1943 at the height of World War II and that made it authentic. It captured the mood that prevailed in England at that time as few movies have been able to do.
Words cannot truly depict that time and place when lifetimes were compressed into nothing more than the immediate present. The past was hazy, the future doubtful, only today remained. No one, civilians or those in uniform, had even a modicum of control over their lives. When there was free time - and precious little of it was available - men and women would gather in pubs and dance halls where a desperate air of gaiety prevailed. You drank warm beer, danced wildly with arms locked or your hands on the hips of the person in front of you, and you sang silly music hall songs. Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run run. Here comes the man with the gun, gun, gun.
And you knew, every one of you, that you were the rabbit.
Death came from the skies and soon it would come on the day everyone talked about and wondered exactly when it would be: D-Day. And it would come in all the days that followed. So you laughed and you drank and you sang: Any evening, any day that you go down Lambeth way, you will find them all doing the Lambeth Walk.
Those who were not there can never understand, never have and never will understand. Moralists will say people shouldn't have behaved as they did and fools will say they wish they could have been there to join the fun. They will never comprehend what it was like when millions of people, both in uniform and civilan clothes, had no control whatsoever over their lives. A time when you went where you were told to go and did what you were told to do. All you really had was that particular moment so you had better make the most of it because there may not be another. And you listened to Vera Lynn sing We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when, and you could only wonder if it were true.
Never before and never again would there be a time quite like it. In a pub or a dance hall or anywhere at all you would look at the men and women around you and wonder who would live, who would die and who among those that survived would never again be able to dance or sing or even smile. All of it was beyond your control. All of it, your life and their lives, were in the hands of men you would never see. That made it very simple. Go where you're told, do what you're told and run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run run...

Thanks Dick for those memories.

Many of us who weren’t there can only hear about WWII when someone tells us, and if they’re good storytellers, we can almost see small vignettes of their experiences. I’ve watched movies and news reports, but of course nothing compares to actually being under fire during WWII and every other war.

My former husband spent two years aboard the USS Iowa in the South Pacific during WWII, and he manned the big guns. If I remember right, they did not put to port for almost two years. He didn’t often talk about those days, but one day he talked about how he’d looked forward to shore leave. Of course I thought he meant for female companionship, but to my surprise, he laughed and no. Ice cream was on his mind.

He told about one time the ship had taken on fresh supplies, and they actually received turkeys and ice cream for Thanksgiving. He said the men couldn’t wait for dinner, and some were fortunate enough to have some. My husband, however, lined up in the chow line with many others, and just as he was served, the sirens went off and he, along with everyone else, dropped everything to run to their stations. Later, after things were calm again, he again lined up in the chow line, and to make sure he got a taste of ice cream, he sat down and took a bite before the turkey. Just as he got that spoonful in his mouth, the sirens went off again. By the time he could return to the chow line, nothing was left. So he said ice cream was the first thing he wanted when he hit shore.

Amazing, isn’t it, what we think of in different times.

Good piece, Dick. Well done.

Jim Woods
www.ultrasw.com/jwoods

Very nice, Dick. It caught my attention because during the last few days or so, I've been watching a lot of WWII footage from Ken Burns' PBS series THE WAR. We missed it when it was broadcast, so are now watching it off the 6-DVD set.

The war had an influence on me in a different way than you. I was born in the middle of it and grew up in the aftermath. I was always John Wayne vs. "The Japs" when we, as kids, got tired of playing cowboys and Indians.

Malcolm

You've done it again, Sir Dick. After reading your book, I came away with a sense of war that we don't get from the heroics portrayed in the movies. It became more real to me than before. Although many of the place names mean nothing to me, and my understanding of rank is minimal, your book brought it to me realistically. I think I learned more reading the book than I ever learned in history class. You gave me a glimpse of what it was like for the people of the towns and the horrors endured by the soldiers without going into the gore of it. I appreciate having read it, and thank you for writing it.

Dear Dick,
In honor of the rabbits of 1943 and in your honor, I post the story of Basil.




Basil was a Cotton-tail rabbit. He was the youngest with four brothers; Tarragon, the eldest, Bayberry, Loosestrife and Clover. They all lived with their mother and father in a burrow under a thicket of blackberry brambles by the ditch. It was covered well with old tree limbs and grown over thick with weeds and grass. It was very safe. But when any rabbit left the safety of their burrow, they were in danger… danger from hawks, dogs, cats, foxes, skunks, raccoons, polecats, and what rabbit knew what else.

It made them a very nervous bunch of rabbits.

One day Basil stood up on his hind legs and announced in a loud voice,” I am tired of being afraid of everything, and I mean to do something about it.” He did not know what, yet, but he meant to do it.

Wooffer happened to be going by the rabbit burrow and came upon Basil. Basil knew Wooffer as well as a rabbit could know any dog, and knew Wooffer loved to chase and race, but did not mean any harm to any rabbit. So Basil stood still and said, “I need your help.”

Wooffer stood still and listened.

Basil continued, “ I do not want to always run when we rabbits are in danger. I want to fight back, but we rabbits are small and do not know what we can do. We would like to eat when we want and lay in the sun a while, if we could, without always looking out for those who would do us harm.”

Wooffer told Basil that it was a problem worth solving and he would try to tell him what to do, tomorrow. Wooffer had many friends and he decided to ask them all what Basil could do to protect himself and his family.

Wooffer was on his way to ask Mr. Autumn Acorn what to do about Basil’s problem, when Margaret the chicken ran out from under the hedges and flew feet first in his face. Wooffer jumped aside and Margaret missed. He got away from her as fast as he could, but it had given him an idea.

Margaret did not like anyone very much, except Cho Lee Yen, the peacock. Cho Lee Yen was fond of Margaret, too. So, Wooffer decided to ask Cho Lee Yen to convince Margaret to teach Basil to fight. If Basil could fight like Margaret, NO-ONE could ever hurt him!

Cho Lee Yen said he would try. He told Wooffer, “If she will, she will, but if she won’t, she won’t.”

Cho Lee Yen talked for a long, long, time to Margaret.

At first she squawked, “What is a rabbit? I have never seen one. Are you sure he won’t kill me?”

In the end, Margaret had agreed to help Basil. She told Cho Lee the things she would need. “I will need someone to fight, some corn, and a can of worms.” she said.

When Cho Lee told Wooffer the things Margaret needed, Wooffer said, “ You can get the corn from the pig and I can ask my mom to dig up the worms, but WHO will we get to fight Margaret?” No one ever stood up to the chicken. She was just too good at fighting.

Cho Lee laughed, “ It would have to be someone without a brain to fight Margaret.” It did not look like Basil would ever get fighting lessons.

Wooffer went in the house to ask his mom about digging up the worms, and happened to see one of his stuffed animal toys laying on the floor. It was a big, yellow, stuffed cat. He jumped for joy!!! “Someone without a brain! That’s it!” he shouted. He ran out to tell Cho Lee Yen about the stuffed cat toy. Then they both went to tell Basil.

Basil wanted to start right away, but he had to wait until Cho Lee had gotten the corn and Wooffer’s mom had dug the worms. So, they decided to have the lesson the first thing the next morning.

When morning came, Cho Lee had a big pile of corn ready by Basil’s burrow and Wooffer’s mom brought the can of worms and set them down beside the corn. Wooffer brought his stuffed cat and set it down a little way off. Margaret came right on time and Basil was waiting.

Margaret chuckled and cluckeled when she saw Basil. She thought he was the oddest creature she had ever seen, with his big long ears and little white tail. “He does have nice BIG feet though.” she thought.

First, Margaret ate the whole pile of corn. Then she ate the whole can of worms. Next, she let out an ear piercing SQUAAAAACCCKK!!!!! QUAAACKK!!!! And flew at Wooffer’s stuffed cat toy with both feet! “Just checking.” she said. The cat toy was laying on it’s side a good way off. Wooffer got it and set it back where it was.

Basil was watching Margaret with admiration. If only he could do that!

The lesson began.

“First,” said Margaret, “you have to learn to scream as loud as ever you can. Let me hear your scream.” Basil let out a pitiful squeak. “Do you think THAT will scare any one?” Margaret sneered. “Do it again, and give it all you’ve got!!!” This time, Basil took a deep breath and let out a sound that shook the grass all around. “That’s more like it!” clucked Margaret. She was beginning to like this Basil rabbit. “Next, you must practice kicking. You have the feet for it. Watch me.”

Margaret let out her loudest squawk, leaped onto the stuffed cat, and kicked with both feet as fast as she could. “Now you try it.” she said.

Basil let out his grass shaking scream and leaped through the air and gave the stuffed cat many kicks very fast. Margaret was impressed. She had always wished that her feet were bigger.

Basil practiced every day and when Amber Jack came by his burrow, he let out his loudest scream and came at him with both big feet. Amber Jack ran home, and to this day, won’t go by Basil’s house.

Wooffer gave his stuffed cat toy to the rabbits to practice with, and soon all the little rabbits knew how to fight with their feet and felt a lot safer for it.



Love,

Betty

Priceless, Betty.