More lamentable mismanagement than the VJ holidays produced it would
be difficult to imagine. To fix Wednesday as a holiday was calamitous even if there were certain superficial reasons—the fact that people would take Wednesday off anyhow, or the desire to synchronise festivity with America (which is only approximately possible anyhow). At nine o'clock on Tuesday evening the public were officially urged to go on with their work as usual. At midnight that night, when four-fifths of them were presumably in bed, and again at seven the next morning, when half or two-thirds of them were presumably still dressing or still asleep, the news that Wednesday was to be a holiday was given. Whether the information gratified anyone I have not discovered. Everyone I have heard of roundly cursed the whole business ; some wished they were working normally ; some wished the war was still going on (not quite seriously, I trust). Housewives in search.of emergency provisions formed vast queues at bakers and butchers ; van-loads of goods drove up to factories where there was no one to receive them ; many busi- ness men living outside London heard nothing of the holiday till they got to their local stations ; finally, in the Gower Street district of London, at any rate, the eight o'clock post arrived at after half-past twelve—and Wednesday happens to be Press day for the weekly reviews. Some people no doubt enjoyed it all. But a sudden holiday creates a disastrous dislocation in national life, and if the Ministry of Labour issued a statement of the loss of production measured in man- hours the result would be staggering. However, it no doubt had to be, so the only thing was to get it over and then on with the job. Meanwhile I observe that on the same day that Sir Stafford Cripps announces that the cotton goods situation is so desperate that coupons
will have to last longer his Board of Trade announces that cotton goods in the shape of red, white and blue bunting can be bought coupon-free.
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