Is baking and watching Netflix really comparable to being bombed?

Much mention has been made in these past weeks of ‘Blitz spirit’. The Queen even hinted at it in her address to the nation, referencing Vera Lynn in her ‘We will meet again’ closing remarks. TV presenters, journalists and indeed our own Prime Minister cannot resist these stirring references to the resilience of the Home Front, the sense of national solidarity, the pluck and grit of the British people, especially as we reach the 75th anniversary of VE Day. Blitz spirit has become such a powerful and recognisable reference point in our national imagination that it is applied, almost at whim it often appears, to any tricky situation the country faces (the possibility of a no-deal Brexit, for instance). During these weeks of lockdown, we as a country have apparently shown much Blitz spirit, although few would argue that the middle classes hunkering down with Netflix and turning en masse to baking, causing Waitrose to run out of flour, is the same thing as being bombed night after night, sleeping in overcrowded shelters and going to work the next morning regardless.

And yet the comparison appeals. The most eager proponents of this ersatz sense of Blitz spirit are almost always younger people, those of us lucky enough to have lived lives of plenty in times of peace — which, thank God, is most of us. I confess, I speak from experience here: I am a fully paid-up member of the Blitz spirit fan club and bow to no one in my love of the popular music of the second world war. My latest Spotify playlist is full of the songs of George Formby, Anne Shelton and, of course, the incomparable Gracie Fields (you can keep Vera Lynn, Your Majesty; it is ‘our Gracie’ for me any day).

We Blitz spirit lovers mean well in our sometimes gauche efforts, we really do.