Women of Wheels

Among the many points of interest this week on that institution called BBC Radio 4 were these two.

To combat loss of land owing to global warming-related sea level rises, a spokeswoman for the Institute of Civil Engineers yesterday really did suggest that Kingston upon Hull should be building houses on stilts. While listening, I did muse as to whether East Yorkshire might need to consider the impact this would have on its business and quickly modify its business continuity plan—by investing in a fleet of ferries and water buses.

More seriously, the second was on Wednesday in response to the honouring of Sheffield’s World War Two ‘women of steel’. There came a flood of “me-too” examples of women’s war heroism, including this statement from a journal of a Londoner called up as a clippie, a sort of ‘woman of wheels’.

“… walking through the streets of London alone in rain, fog and snow, and the darkness of the blackout to get to the depot to take the first bus out at 0330. The buses just carried on their route while the bombs were falling all around…”

We tend to forget that, whether at war or at peace, 1940s and even 1950s crews tended to have no personal transport. Getting in for the first bus (not necessarily as early as 0330!) or leaving after the return of the last was a big daily issue. It was not unknown for crews to walk three miles or more at one end of their shift—or both if there was a double shift. It’s as well that this sort of Herculean effort is no longer necessary today, even though the staff buses of old are few and far between. On occasions such as these, we can actually be grateful for the motor car.