The Second World War was one of the single greatest defining events of the 20^th century, and so it is no surprise that it had a fundamental effect on the Ö÷²¥´óÐã.

In many ways, the war made the Ö÷²¥´óÐã what it is today, and closed the chapter of the Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s early years under its first Director General, Sir John Reith.

The Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s bosses became less commanding than Reith, although they sufficiently powerful allies to prevent the Corporation from being taken over directly by the government, which would have been a disaster for its reputation.  In fact, the institution was taken to the heart of the British public during the six years of conflict far more than it had been before, and internationally it became a byword for truthful news reporting.

But the Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s war started shakily, when initial plans to simplify output and relocate its staff to avoid the expected mass bombing of London resulted in early wartime programmes of such stultifying boredom that the Corporation came in for heavy criticism, and listeners turned to other European broadcasters for light relief.

As war had been more or less expected since the Munich crisis in late 1938, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã had its plans well prepared.  In order that its transmissions should not provide a beacon for enemy aircraft to home in on, the various Regional and National programmes were to be amalgamated into one Ö÷²¥´óÐã Service, and the fledgling television service would be shut down. 

This all duly occurred on 1 September 1939, when Germany had invaded Poland and war was clearly imminent, although the declaration – carried live on the Ö÷²¥´óÐã – did not come for another two days. The Prime Minister, , spoke the famous words at just after 11 am, following Britain's ultimatum to the Nazis to withdraw their troops:

I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.

With all places of public entertainment shut down, the public looked to the Ö÷²¥´óÐã for news, government announcements and light relief - but they found very little of it.  The Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s drama and Variety departments were busily being relocated to various parts of the country away from expected attacks, and the entertainment output was virtually restricted to endless organ recitals by the Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s stalwart .  

It was actually at this time that the Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s nickname of ‘Auntie’ came into use, reflecting people’s dissatisfaction with being given what they were expected to like and need rather than what they actually did, as if by a disapproving maiden aunt.

Gradually things improved, but there was still a discrepancy between what the Ö÷²¥´óÐã was putting out on its single channel and what the audience wanted.  By early 1940, the war that had been expected was not showing any signs of materialising, and the armies facing the Germans in France wanted something more to their taste – and that meant dance music and variety shows.

After some direct consultation with the troops, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã started trials of a in January, which was formally launched the following month, and had more room for more popular fare than the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Service.

Wartime turned out to be a period of great expansion for the Ö÷²¥´óÐã.  Its staff more than doubled over the period, despite many of its peace-time complement being called up for military service or other war work.  As well as the Forces Programme, there was a great expansion in overseas services, both in English and in foreign languages.  The first foreign language service had been in Arabic in 1938, to counter Italian Fascist propaganda in North Africa and the Middle East in the wake of Mussolini’s invasion of Abyssinia and rule over Libya.

With the European war starting, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã began German broadcasts, and as serious hostilities began on the Western Front in spring 1940 with invasions of Scandinavia, the Low Countries and France, a whole raft of language services sprang up to deliver an alternative to the Nazi propaganda message – even if anyone listening to these services in occupied countries risked dire consequences.

The war also shook up the mindset of programme makers, whether in drama, variety or in the news division.  Pre-war news had relied on news agencies for information, and there had been an agreement not to broadcast bulletins before 6pm to avoid affecting the sales of evening papers.  Now with the need and ability to broadcast all day with the latest war news, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã upped its number of bulletins considerably.

With other production departments scattered around the country, it took some time for them to catch up and re-establish themselves.  Variety moved first to Bristol then later to Bangor in Wales, where some of the best remembered wartime shows came from.  

Some pre-war comic stars carried on, such as Arthur Askey and Richard Murdoch in the earliest regular comedy series, .  This was one of the first sitcoms, albeit of a surreal sort, with the two stars supposedly living in a penthouse apartment in Broadcasting House, although this was only one section of a longer variety show.

There were other popular comedy shows in the war period including , and later shows like Merry-Go-Round, which featured a rotation of shows provided by Army, Navy and RAF talent.  The RAF programme became , which survived long after the war and united Richard Murdoch with Kenneth Horne, the latter going on to great success in the 50s and 60s with Beyond Our Ken and Round the Horne.

Another great early hit was , where cabaret artist Jack Warner compered in the persona of a soldier, memorably asking people to ‘Mind My Bike’ and reading comic letters from his brother, suitable censored with ‘blue pencil’ to provide double entrendres.  Warner’s sisters, Elsie and Doris Waters, who featured as their characters Gert and Daisy, were later enlisted to deliver useful advice from government ministries.

But the paramount comedy series of the war years was It’s That Man Again – .  It had begun in a small way earlier in 1939, but it was not until cast changes were enforced by the start of the war that it really started to take off.  Built round the central character of Tommy Handley, ITMA was famous for its roster of eccentric guest characters, each with their distinctive and obligatory catchphrase, including Mrs Mopp – ‘Can I do you now sir’, Colonel Chinstrap – ‘I don’t mind if I do’, and Funf, the German spy – ‘Zis is Funf speaking’. 

With its incredibly quick-fire delivery, satires of wartime bureaucracy and painful puns, ITMA became one of those shows truly loved by the public, who carried its jokes and references over into real life.  It was to last 10 years until Tommy Handley’s untimely death in 1949.

Drama too had its part to play in wartime.  The department had had something of a culture shock initially, swapping state-of-the-art equipment in Broadcasting House for more rudimentary facilities in regional studios following evacuation.

Sounds of battle

Some of the dramatic highlights included the drama documentary series , which detailed the rise of the Nazi Party in Germany, and Dorothy L. Sayers’ , controversially depicting the life of Jesus, with an actor playing that part for the first time in a modern drama.  First broadcast in Children’s Hour, it was later repeated for adult listeners. 

Radio continued the tradition of bringing classic drama to the bulk of people who had never experienced it in the theatre, but also featured lighter fare such as  thriller stories, and the spine-chilling horror of , featuring Valentine Dyall as the narrator, the 'Man in Black'.

As expected, news came into its own during the war.  Gradually the role of the news correspondent developed, going to war zones and starting to record the actual sounds of battle, and bringing the reality of the conflict into people’s homes. 

The innovation of worldwide broadcasting also reminded troops of what they were missing at home, and what they were fighting for.  War correspondents such as , Chester Wilmot, and many others risked life and limb to report from the battle front.  New recording technology such as portable disc-recorders, was primitive by today’s standards, but the very idea of recording real events overrode quality considerations.

The Ö÷²¥´óÐã had long feared the unscripted programme, as people might say things that were libellous or would offend decency, or just not get to the point.  It was an innovation when one of the great hits of the war, , was inaugurated. 

Originally under the title Any Questions?, the idea was that people could send in questions on virtually any topic and a wide-ranging panel of experts would discuss them and give an answer. The heightened circumstances of wartime meant people were looking beyond narrow margins of what they were expected to like.

One area that reflected this was music.  While there had always been a mixture of classical works and lighter music, and dance bands had proliferated with the coming of the Forces Programme, there was a greater cross-over now.  Classical pianists like proved popular, while native British dance band talent like Lew Stone, Roy Fox and were augmented by , once that country entered the war and US troops were stationed in the UK. 

Most loved of all though were the singers – from the likes of , sadly killed during an air raid in 1941 (as was the band leader Ken ‘Snake-Hips’ Johnson in a separate incident a few weeks before), to the great female singers such as Anne Shelton and the legendary .

As the war drew to a close, the place of the Ö÷²¥´óÐã in the national consciousness had definitely changed forever.  It had adapted to the needs of the time and provided shows that got people through bombing raids, rationing, the loss of loved ones, and the sheer stress and uncertainty of the times.  Auntie had become a term of affection rather than disdain. 

The Ö÷²¥´óÐã sustained its own losses:  when Broadcasting House was hit by a bomb in October 1940, seven staff members were killed.  Covered in plaster dust and soot, newsreader continued with the bulletin he was reading at the time with barely a pause audible. Another later bomb severely damaged the building, while adjacent St George’s Hall and Queen’s Hall, used for musical concerts including the Proms, were damaged beyond repair.  Other staff were killed in bombing raids at home, or on duty with the services overseas.

The Ö÷²¥´óÐã came out of World War Two with its reputation enhanced both at home, and to an even greater extent abroad.  With the replacement of the Forces networks with the Light Programme, and plans underway for a new high-culture Third Programme and the revival of the television service in 1946, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã looked to the future.

I noticed recently, among a list of celebrity birthdays in a newspaper,  that Dame Vera Lynn had reached the age of 99.  There didn’t seem to be much made of it at the time, so we thought we would pay our own tribute to Dame Vera’s long career in radio and television.

Although Dame Vera has been out of the limelight for some time, she only very recently gave up performing at commemorations of the significant events of World War Two, a conflict which changed her from just a popular band and solo singer into one of the few people who really can be described as a National Treasure.

She was born Vera Welch in East Ham in 1917, and was singing in charity concerts by the age of seven.  By 16 she had joined Howard Baker’s band, moved to Billy Cotton’s Band at 17, and at 18 the Joe Loss Orchestra.  She was already making records, and her first credited appearance on radio was in a programme called in 1935.

In 1937 she joined the and began a long series of broadcasts which stretched well into 1940.  Her first television appearance was on 13 April 1938 in Ambrose’s show, where she had three numbers, That Old Feeling, I Know Now and The Bells of St. Mary’s. (Don’t look for it on Genome, due to technical reasons TV listings for that week are not accessible on the site yet). 

There were further pre-war television appearances, including with the , a cut-down version of the orchestra, before the service closed on 1 September 1939.

By 1940 Dame Vera had started making guest appearances on other shows, such as , a short-lived comedy series starring Dicky Hassett (known for his catchphrase ‘large lumps’!) which came from the team behind ITMA, and , the series for those manning anti-aircraft guns and barrage balloon sites.  She made plenty of appearances on the new Forces Programme that started in early 1940.

By the later part of the year, Dame Vera was appearing in the stage revue along with comedian Max Miller.  On 2 December 1940, , which featured her recordings, was the first programme dedicated to her alone, broadcast simultaneously on the Ö÷²¥´óÐã and Forces Programmes.  She was already being billed as ‘Britain’s Sweetheart of Song’, but by March 1941 she was ‘the Forces favourite’, and in June that year she was being called ‘The Forces’ Sweetheart’ – the title by which she has been known ever since.

Towards the end of that year, the Forces Programme began a well-remembered series called .  Billed as 'a letter in words and music' to 'the men of the Forces', this presented messages from people on the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Front to their menfolk in the services, and congratulated serving fathers of newborn children. 

As the war drew to a close, Dame Vera’s appearances were fewer, in part because she spent time travelling the world to visit British forces. She was especially known for her visits to troops in the Far East. Sometimes referred to as the Forgotten Army, they appreciated all the more the fact that she had come so far to perform for them.

There are no credited appearances by Dame Vera in 1946, but her broadcasting resumed in 1947 with the Light Programme series .  As television also returned, she appeared on , closely followed by the , in October 1947.  Through the 40s and 50s she was a regular presence on radio and television, where she was a constant despite the changed landscape of post-war entertainment, with new stars such as Benny Hill, Terry-Thomas, Frankie Howerd and Julie Andrews sharing the bill with her.

Dame Vera had her first solo television series in 1950, , and in December the following year she was the castaway for the first time on .  She was still a recording star, with three entries in the first published UK music chart in 1952. She also appeared on stage in revues, including , with Jimmy Edwards and Tony Hancock, excerpts from which were broadcast on radio and TV.

Further television series and radio programmes kept Dame Vera busy in the 1950s.  She even turned disc jockey for the series .  , in March 1957, saw her and husband Harry Lewis interviewed by Berkeley Smith – as the title suggests, this television programme came from their own house.  In December 1959 she was a guest star in old colleague Jimmy Edwards’ school comedy  She was also a judge in the 1960 series of the talent competition .

By 1961 she was afforded her first broadcast biography, in , which featured many old friends.  In 1965 another radio series on the Light Programme was , the title a reference to her unforgettable wartime hit We’ll Meet Again.

After a break from television she returned in 1967, this time on Ö÷²¥´óÐã2, in an edition of the strand.  This was followed on the same channel in January 1968 by a guest slot in , with Dame Vera appearing on colour television for the first time.  She returned to Show of the Week in , but this time with a series of shows. Television had evolved since her last regular appearances. Her material was sometimes nostalgic, but she also embraced the new world of popular song.

She was the star of in May 1970, and the next day was part of an all-star cast for in aid of Britain’s Commonwealth Games team (other stars included the casts of Dad’s Army and Up Pompeii, Morecambe and Wise and Basil Brush).

More Show of the Week was to come, which by the early 70s started alternating different shows fortnightly, and she turned up on her fellow showbusiness stars’ programmes, such as the 1972 . 

In 1969 Vera had been awarded the OBE, and in the Birthday Honours List 1975 she was made a Dame for her charitable work, with a at the Savoy Hotel organised by The Variety Club to celebrate the occasion.  Her 1975 television series was to be her last, but she continued to make guest appearances on television and radio.

In 1985 she was feted by the industry again, as the Variety Club now hosted a at the London Hilton to mark her 50 years in showbusiness.  The following year she was one of the stars celebrating 50 years of television in the .

invited Dame Vera back in 1989, and she was a natural choice to sing for commemorations of VE Day and VJ Day, and other wartime anniversaries, but saw the last time when she gave a full performance at such an event.  In 1997 another landmark was celebrated by a special to mark her 80th birthday.

While Ö÷²¥´óÐã4 looked back at Dame Vera’s career in 2006 in , the next year her 90th birthday was celebrated by David Jacobs in a on Radio 2, with an interview conducted by Russell Davies.

Dame Vera is a true British star, with decades of success behind her in films, on record, and on radio and television, and is now enjoying a well-earned retirement. In an era where stardom can come and go overnight, and where some careers have been overshadowed by scandal and the dark side of fame, she is someone who has never disappointed her legions of fans and admirers.