For nine long months after the Occupation began, islanders were plunged into near-total silence. Families in Britain waited anxiously for word from their loved ones in Jersey, while islanders feared for the fate of relatives serving overseas or evacuated to safety.
Relief came in March 1941 with the arrival of the first Red Cross messages. These were limited to 25 words and subject to intense censorship, but they brought news that lifted hearts. Even the most mundane updates, a safe birth, good health, a new address, became priceless gifts.
One message told of a grandmother in Jersey learning, months late, that her son had married, and a grandson had been born. These moments of connection, though brief, restored hope and helped families endure the long separation.
In 1942, when British-born civilians were deported from the Channel Islands to internment camps in Germany, a surprising allowance was granted: they could send and receive full-length letters. Though closely monitored, these letters allowed deeper emotional expression, bringing comfort during exile and displacement.
As demand for Red Cross communications grew, the responsibility for processing them fell to a dedicated team from the General Post Office. Working from a small office above Burton’s tailor shop on Halkett Place, a few trusted employees became the island’s custodians of connection.
Wilfred Ahier, Charlie d’Authreau, Peter Law, and Stuart Guillard worked tirelessly at the counter, censoring incoming messages and typing replies under strict German oversight. Each word had to be weighed carefully to avoid censorship or reprisal. It was painstaking work, requiring discretion, empathy, and resilience. Their quiet commitment ensured that even in war, families could still find each other in 25 precious words.