'What will the news be about when the war is over?' I recall asking my mother this question after hearing that an atom bomb had destroyed Hiroshima. That wireless in the corner of my grandmother's sitting room had been our link with what was happening to a generation of our and our friends' fathers. Each day for six years we had listened to the news of bombing, battles, retreats and victories, of planes shot down, of cities overcome, of deaths. We dreaded the arrival of the telegraph boy on his bicycle who only brought bad news, of neighbours killed or missing in action. And we understood that we too had to make sacrifices – we were part of what was called the war effort.
For a child, it was perhaps rather trivial, as we were protected by our mothers who went without their rations to ensure we were well nourished, who mended, patched and recycled our clothes. I gave up sugar on my porridge and in tea, and told my friends, my tiny imagined contribution to the war effort. But on a grander scale, everyone was literally living on rations, for food, soap and clothing – obesity was not a problem in the Europe of 1945. Coal, gas and electricity were also rationed. Even the depth of your baths were restricted to save heating water. Very few people had a car. Everyone walked or cycled to work or, in our case, the two miles to school each day.
For the past week, I have returned to those days. Each day at 6am, I turn on the radio to hear the same awful story from Ukraine. The brave mothers who remain to protect their children, to deliver their babies, the poor refugees going they know not where, leaving their men to face almost certain death from the tyrant's bombs and missiles. Sometimes there is news of Russians killed or captured, of advances stalled, but underlying it is the fear of utter destruction of a European people at the hands of a second Hitler. I ask myself, what can I, what can we do? Are we as individuals utterly helpless? Or can we join the war effort?
It is now apparent that we are all faced with the possibility of a terrible world war. As when we faced up to Hitler, we need to press our government to face up to Putin and toughen the sanctions. I hope action is being taken to reduce the already poor morale of the Russian soldiers – many of whom are also unwilling victims of his mania – and to inform the Russian people of the tyrannical slaughter of civilians being carried out in their name, but this is beyond our control. All we can do is make our voices heard when the government appears reluctant to sanction their party's kleptocratic donors or to call out the names of those in the City of London who have enriched themselves on behalf of these thieves. But there are some things that we can all do, some small sacrifices we can all make according to our means.
The most devastating blow Europe can now land on Putin is to stop taking and paying for his gas and oil. This would also hit many countries in Europe, especially Italy and Germany. The UK is only dependent on Russian gas for about 3% of its energy needs so we can press for this but must show support for those in Europe who will suffer more.
At a personal level, we can all now reduce our use of gas and oil, and the government needs to start thinking about rationing of these fuels if we do not do so voluntarily. This means reducing car use, driving as economically as possible if you must use it, and stopping flying. We must turn down our central heating, stop wasting hot water and get our Shetland woollies out of the cupboard. If you cook by gas, use the microwave if possible as an alternative (gas cooking also produces huge numbers of particles and more nitrogen dioxide that you will ever meet in the street outside, so there may be a health benefit also). Try to stop buying food from far away – look for local produce.
As I write, I have interrupted my reading of the latest report of the International Panel on Climate Change. All the actions above are also necessary if we are to combat the devastating effects of our profligate use of fossil fuels, so there are even more fundamental reasons to take these steps for our longer-term security.
Some of you may recall my writing (SR October 2014) of the four horsemen of the modern apocalypse and my hint that the City of London was the modern equivalent of St John the Divine's Babylon. Those horsemen that I warned against ride together – they are War, Social Injustice, Pandemic Disease, and (the embodiment of St John's black horse, death) Climate Change, the death of species and of our civilisation. I was not being hyperbolic; the metaphor remains apt, the threats all existential, and like the people of the Roman empire in St John's time we need to take them seriously. We are suffering from them all today.
What else, apart from moderating our lifestyles, can we do immediately? We can see it on our television screens more clearly than we ever heard on the wireless 80 years ago. The refugee crisis that we have almost become desensitised to is now being increased by hundreds of thousands of people just like us, previously comfortable healthy, industrious Europeans, mostly women and children leaving their husbands, fathers and brothers, perhaps forever. We must, please, give what we can to the charities and organisations that help such unfortunate victims of war, and press our governments to act with the urgency required to feed and accommodate them until they can go back to their homes.
No longer is it possible for us ordinary citizens to sit back and ignore the threats that confront us. As our fathers and grandfathers did in confronting the Nazis, as our mothers and grandmothers did in protecting us as children through war, we need to show our resolve. We can all act on a personal level, and must be prepared for sacrifice, to show that we are prepared to build a home front once again in the war effort against tyranny. My cheque for the Red Cross has been sent and I expect to have to repeat it.
Anthony Seaton is Emeritus Professor of Environmental and Occupational Medicine at Aberdeen University and Senior Consultant to the Edinburgh Institute of Occupational Medicine. The views expressed are his own
