Your country needs you, etc

We’ve all heard of Watergate. But have you ever heard of Gate-gate?

This occurred at the start of World War II when everyone’s garden gates and railings were requisitioned for the war effort.

Presumably the idea was to turn our wrought-iron finials and Victorian scrollwork into munitions. And the patriotic British rose admirably to the challenge and hurried to donate their gates.

The scrap metal mountain grew and grew – and then suddenly disappeared. No-one ever found out what happened to their ironwork, but it may have ended up in the sea or in landfill because most of it was unfit for purpose.

However, nothing was done to halt the metal influx because it united the nation in a common cause. A genius stroke of propaganda - the likes of which we’re seeing now.

At the start of the COVID-19 emergency a call was put out for volunteers to support the NHS and provide shopping for vulnerable “shelterers”. The offers flooded in and soon the government had three times the number of volunteers they’d requested.

I’m one of these recruits and every day I click the “On Duty” button on my phone and await the summons. When it comes it will be terrifying – I’ve tried the simulator and it sounds like an air raid siren. So when I eventually receive a call to arms it will feel as though the world is about to end. But it will probably just be Mr Jones from down the road who’s run out of pilchards. 

The government has also called on engineering companies to make ventilators and for anyone skilled in PPE manufacturing to mass-produce masks and protective clothing. Firms clamoured to respond and the general mood has been: “We’re in this together, let’s all do our bit”.

We’ve been told about the spirit of the blitz, but personally I always thought it was a lot of hype and that most people spent the war years feeling dispirited and undernourished. But during this current crisis, I’m seeing it in action.

In fact I recently spent an afternoon cutting out material for “scrub bags” whatever they are. Our neighbour at number 9 – who I’ve never met - asked the rest of the street to contribute fabric patches for a machinist friend who was planning to sew them into scrub bags for the NHS. I was only too happy to part with an old sheet plus Brian’s deckchair outfit from the 1990s (don’t ask).

We’re all delighted to feel we can help – and as it turns out, everybody can. I bet Tom Moore didn’t think he was making much of a contribution when he offered to circumnavigate his garden for charity. But the 99-year-old has now raised millions for the NHS.

We all needed a bit of unification after the divisive politics of the past few years. And like everyone else, I’m more than happy to do my bit. As soon as Mr Jones from down the road runs out of pilchards.