The war intruded into children's lives with excitement, confusion, and fear. But there was plenty of time and space for normal routine.
For kids under 10, World War II was alternately scary, confusing, and uplifting. Although their comprehension of the peril and destructiveness of war was limited, they responded to the post-Pearl Harbor rallying of the nation with a determination of their own to do their part.
Gen. Douglas MacArthur, evacuated reluctantly in March of 1942 from a doomed Corregidor to command the reconquest of the Pacific, was an early hero. Youngsters playing general with sun glasses and a makeshift corncob pipe made it clear whom they were emulating. Cowboys and Indians and Cops and Robbers gave way to Soldiers and Sailors in the streets and backyards of America. But there was more serious and constructive participation in collections "for the war effort" of rubber and scrap metals and purchases of war stamps with twenty-five-cent pieces that formerly went for candy and comic books.
The scary moments were blackout air raid drills initiated by ominous-sounding sirens and cries of "Lights out." Also disconcerting were posters calling upon the citizenry to watch out for suspicious-looking characters who could be spies or saboteurs. One memorable leaflet tried to instruct its readers how to distinguish between the features of Chinese, who were America's brave allies, and Japanese, our mortal enemies since the sneak attack of December 7, 1941. This educational venture was somewhat undermined by the fact that some evil Japanese characters in the quickly proliferating war movies were played by Chinese actors and vice-versa. And imagine the intimidating impact of the ubiquitous poster warnings that, "Loose lips sink ships."
The new vocabulary of the war could be bewildering to recent graduates of Dick and Jane. There were ration points, price controls, sabotage, lend-lease, 1-A, 4-F, second front, Quislings, collaborators, conscientious objectors, shrapnel, and much more. The most repeated rhetorical question hurled at wasters of resources or complainers about wartime restrictions: "Don't you know there's a war on?" The most repeated, confusingly elliptical, answer to questions as to how long shortages or onerous regulations would last: "For the duration."
But for all the connection to "our boys overseas" and apprehension about the possibility of actual air raids or harm from spies and saboteurs, the children of America were almost totally insulated from the genuine war experiences of their peers in Europe and Asia. There, many were starving, sick, or being blown apart by real bombs. Some were in concentration camps; many would not live to see their teens. Sadly, some American kids did suffer the loss of loved ones in the armed forces. Others grieved for neighbors who sorrowfully but proudly displayed a Gold Star in their windows.
But all were able to put aside at will their play guns and go home for a square meal. They could divert their attention from news bulletins to Superman and Tom Mix or a ball game on the radio or to a game of Monopoly of their own. They went to each other's birthday parties and feasted on the same ice cream and cake that they would have had in 1939 (well, rationing of sugar and shortening may have affected the taste for gourmet kids). While rubber shortages and the gasoline rationing instituted in 1942 might eliminate their families' longer vacation trips, many managed to get to the beach, mountains, or lake.
After the successful D-Day invasion of Europe on June 6, 1944, victory seemed inevitable and imminent. It took a bit longer than anticipated, but the Nazis surrendered on May 7, 1945, and the Japanese on August 14. More than six decades later, the children of the World War II American home front would remember those days as two of the happiest of their lives.
