All language subtitles for The.Big.Snow.Of.47.2023.1080p.HDTV.H264-DARKFLiX

SUE JOHNSTON:
Think you've experienced snow?

Think again.

NEWSREEL: Many houses literally
buried in deep drifts.

Just 17 months after the end
of the Second World War,

Britain faced a new peril.

People were hoping
a better future was just ahead.

And then, suddenly,
nature dealt this body blow.

This time, the military weren't
dropping bombs, but bread.

The RAF has made many gallant
attempts to bring relief

to isolated villages
suffering from lack of food.

Equivalent to five
"Beasts from the East",

one after the other,

it lasted seven long weeks.

England, digging out of the worst
winter in half a century,

faces a crisis.

My father went at three o'clock one
morning, in order to get to work.

And it took him about four
or five hours to get there.

Temperatures below -21 degrees
Celsius caused coal queues.

Industry ran on coal, and every
household had to have coal.

Frozen railways.

Somebody came up with a bright idea.

Why don't we put a jet engine
on the back of a wagon

and we'll blow the snow away?

Power cuts.

NEWSREEL: Once again,
the blackout envelops Britain.

Families, thrown together.

My parents decided to leave our home

and move in with my grandfather
and my uncle and aunt.

Workers sent home.

NEWSREEL: An entire nation teeters
on the brink of economic disaster.

A farming crisis.

NEWSREEL: Mountain sheep come down
to the towns in search of food,

while others are still being dug out
of deep drifts.

But for children,
there was fun to be had,

and Brits were determined
to help each other.

Nobody wanted a neighbour
to freeze to death.

It was, if you like,
the Blitz Spirit all over again.

Everybody was so stoic.

I don't know how we survived,
really.

It was a winter
like we'll never see again.

NEWSREEL: Enter 1947, and it
definitely became a wild revel.

Brits saw in 1947 with optimism.

The ending of one of
the grimmest periods in history,

coupled with the hopes
and aspirations for the new year.

The war was over.

Loved ones had returned home.

It was a time for fun and frivolity.

Even the weather was in party mood.

January had started off quite mild,
quite pleasant.

The air was incredibly balmy.

I mean, January,
you expect temperatures

to be four, five,
six degrees Celsius.

Well, they were climbing
into the mid-teens.

People were thinking, winter's done
for, it's nearly spring.

But a storm was brewing,
and Britain was ill-prepared.

Immediately after the war,
times were very tough.

1947 was perhaps
the worst possible moment

to have a sort of climactic
emergency, really.

We had poured absolutely
everything we had

as a nation, and as individuals,
into the war.

It was all gone.

The Labour government,
led by Clement Attlee,

had just begun a raft
of sweeping reforms

designed to prop up
British industry.

I think everybody now realises
that our standard of life

depends on what we can produce,

and that lab our is the source
of our well-being.

It was a big rescue act for British
industry and British commerce,

which had been battered, obviously,
during a six-year war.

Food was scarce.

Rationing was tighter
than it had been during the war.

Luxuries were things like,
if you could have fried spam.

My God,
if you got fried spam,

that was really going it a bit.

I used to get hundreds and thousands
and eat them with my finger,

dip my finger in,
and things like that,

because you couldn't get sweets.

Britain relied on foreign aid
from its former colonies.

NEWSREEL: Today, England is so short
of cheese that it's a luxury.

These packets will help
to ease the shortage.

And domestic life was hard.

The thing about 1947,

the whole existence was different

in So many ways
from the normality of this century.

We weren't used to things like
central heating and television

or anything like that, you know.

There were no luxuries at all.

And there was another reason
why Britain wasn't prepared

for one of the worst winters
of the 20th century.

By today's standards,
weather forecasting was primitive.

NEWSREEL: Here's what goes on

at the Air Ministry's biggest
Met station

at Dunstable, Bedfordshire.

Temperature, rainfall, winds,

everything from anticyclones
to sunspots,

they keep tabs on them all
at Dunstable.

I'm in total admiration
for the earliest forecasters,

because we're going back
to a time

where there was no satellite
imagery, that happened in 1960.

There was no computer modelling,
that happened in the '50s.

Most of the forecasts
were based around observations.

Obviously, you had weather balloons,
were really handy

because you can see the profile
of the atmosphere,

and it's using those observations

to pinpoint
and almost join the dots.

And it was good,
probably for 24 hours, 48 hours,

depending on the weather patterns.

But it was more about "now" casting
rather than forecasting.

Towards the end of January 1947,

the mild weather across Britain
took a turn for the worse.

The first frosts arrived
on the 20th of January,

so that would have been a bit
of a shock to the system,

but it got really cold on the 21st.
Rapidly cold.

On the morning of January 23rd,

Brits still had no idea
of what was to come.

Instead, the newspaper headlines
were about rationing,

more tinned beef,
but less beer.

And as for the weather...

The forecast said
cold weather persisting

for at least several days.

We had absolutely no idea
what was going to hit us.

That evening,
snow began falling across Britain.

It wouldn't let up for seven weeks.

It came in from the southwest,

all courtesy of an area
of cloud and rain

which turned readily to snow.

And many communities
across the southwest peninsula

got cut off because of the snow.

There was up to seven inches
in places.

Remarkably,
even the Isles of Scilly,

you know, bathed in the warm,
mild Atlantic Ocean,

had snowfall for the first time
in many, many years.

NEWSREEL: Winter sports
were in full swing

when we visited Hampstead Heath,

and a great time was had by all
who cared to risk a few bruises

on the local crested run.
Whoops!

Overnight, much of grey
post-war Britain

was wrapped in a blanket
of pristine white snow.

For children,
it was a gift from the heavens.

In snowy conditions of that kind,

young kids have a whale of a time,

and I did.

It was, for me, a winter wonderland.

NEWSREEL: Skating and sliding
has been in full swing

in St James' Park,
and if that notice means anything,

somebody will make a nice profit
out of the weather.

In Leeds, six-year-old John Craven
was taking full advantage.

We all had little snowball gangs
and things like that.

We had a wonderful time.
The parents didn't worry.

They just let us go and enjoy
ourselves in the white wonderland.

My dad made me a sort of, er,
makeshift sledge.

And there was a road
which had a very steep hill,

and we used to go sledging like mad.

High speed,
down this, the ice on this road.

And there was no problem
with traffic at the time

because there were hardly
any cars around.

The only problem was getting
back up the hill again

because it was so icy and slippy.

You kept falling on your face,
pulling your sledge.

For Britain's children,

it was a rare chance to forget
the hardships of post-war Britain

and focus on fun.

We used to go to the cinema
with our parents,

and we'd seen the news,

and we'd seen the Russians
repulsing the Germans

at the end of the Second World War,
in snow.

NEWSREEL: First, a story
of this winter's Soviet offensive.

A Russian patrol checks up
on German front-line positions.

So, as soon as the snow came down,

we had the idea, we kids,
to enact that.

And we were Russians, going
from pile to pile, in the snow,

firing at an imaginary German.

But as the snow continued
to fall across Britain,

it began to cause problems,

and that initial joy
soon turned to dread.

When it first started snowing,

it was only a bit of snow,
so that was fine.

When it started to get above the top
of your Wellingtons,

then you started to think,
"This is really something big."

And it went on and on and on,

and nobody had any idea
when it was going to stop.

What happened
during the winter of 1947

was something almost extraordinary,

almost something where
you could blame the gods

because, in a lifetime,
something like that never happened.

By Saturday, January 25th, 1947,

snow had been falling across much of
southern England for three days.

It was six inches deep in Suffolk,
and nine inches in parts of Kent.

As temperatures plunged,

roads across the south
were badly affected,

and Yorkshire's fishing fleet
was stuck in port.

But Britain's children
were having a whale of a time.

When I look back on '47,

which is actually a sort of almost
rose-tinted image

from childhood
of what it was like.

That was the best snow ever.

And the snow
also offered Johnny Ball

an opportunity to mimic this moment
of slapstick from his comedy heroes.

In those days, we used to watch
Laurel and Hardy, especially,

and I was always...
Always a fan of theirs.

Building sites, for us kids,
were adventure playgrounds.

And when it snowed,
it really snowed,

so much that we could see
that the trenches,

that were a metre deep,

are completely covered in snow.

So we actually played the joke,

and we walk along nonchalantly and
disappear down a hole in the snow.

But that initial childhood joy
soon faded

when, during that opening weekend
of wintry weather,

the Big Snow claimed
its first victims.

There's a great temptation,
especially if you're a child,

to try your luck on the ice
in a pond.

And, in fact, four children drowned
after falling through the ice.

Tragic.

And there was more tragedy
that weekend

when a plane taking off from
Croydon Airport in snow crashed.

NEWSREEL: The Dakota airliner burst
into flames,

and 12 of the 23 occupants
lost their lives.

An investigation found snow and ice
on the wings

may have been partly to blame,
as well as poor visibility.

It wasn't a pure anticyclone giving
settled cold and crisp conditions,

so it was dark, it was dreary,
it was bitter.

This was a real lethal,
lethal icy spell.

By January 27th,
after five days of snow and ice,

newspapers were reporting villages
being isolated by snowdrifts,

and much of the country looked
like this.

NEWSREEL: Icy winds, heavy frost,
and quite a bit of snow.

That's what it's been like
in Britain lately,

as you've probably noticed.

In Kent,
100 miles of roads were blocked.

Couldn't see friends.
Neighbours.

Couldn't travel any distance.

NEWSREEL: Country buses were still
running when we took our pictures.

But some people like
to be independent.

I remember just feeling,
"We can always walk there."

And then realising that,
I'm sorry, you really can't.

We can't actually move.

And that was quite worrying.

The Isle of Sheppey
was completely cut off.

Snow on parts of the only road
to the island was eight-feet deep.

NEWSREEL: Our cameraman found
snowploughs at work

on some of the roads, which were
also being cleared by hand.

A cold job,
and one that's being repeated

in many other parts
of Britain under snow.

In the Peak District,

a young Amanda Barrie tried to help
her family drive across the moors.

My stepfather had a Riley,

and it had a big running board,

which was one good thing,

cos I could stand
on the running board

and try and get them over the moors,

going, "No, keep going!

"No, no, not to... Keep going!"

Two minutes later,
you would be in a snowdrift.

So, what had caused
this sudden change in the weather?

The air across Finland and Sweden,

Denmark, Norway

was getting colder and colder
and colder,

so this high pressure

was just becoming more and more
dense and stubborn

and was extending its icy claws
in every direction.

The initial setup was similar
to the Beast from the East,

with the Scandinavian high,
the easterlies,

and then some milder air trying
to get in from the south.

But the Beast from the East was,
you know, a matter of days,

not 55 days.

And to, you know,
to compare the two is ridiculous.

NEWSREEL: Snow on trees, in drifts,
on railways.

We've been over it, under it,
through it.

And, like you, we're sick of it.

As we progressed through January,

the winter weather
just would not let up.

Temperatures were so low,

they were lower than what they would
be in any kitchen freezer.

So we saw temperatures
in Essex

dip down to -20 degrees Celsius.

I mean, you die in exposure
for that, you get frostbite.

So, I see that some parts
of the Thames froze over.

Some parts of the sea had ice on it.

So that's how cold it was.

By the start of February,

hundreds of remote northern farms
and villages were cut off.

People were really knocked over
by how extreme the situation was,

praying that it was going to end,

but we didn't see any indication
of it.

From every side,

the UK was getting pretty much
bombarded by icy weather.

It was almost just like
an Arctic hell in the UK.

But whilst adults battled
against the elements,

Britain's children continued
to take advantage.

I can remember every day,
we used to have to go out

and shovel away the snow
from the path in front of the house.

So in no time at all,

we had a sort of wall of snow
building up on the roadside.

And we dug ourselves big holes
into these snow walls,

which were used as kind of igloos.

The country was starting
to resemble an Arctic wilderness,

with igloos popping up everywhere.

Who could have imagined that Britain
would be home to so many?

But none could have been
more carefully constructed

than the one built by four-year-old
Neil Kinnock's father and uncle.

Being coal miners,

they made sure the roof was safe

by propping it up

with maybe two shovels...

Certainly one shovel
that I can clearly remember.

Because they would always be
immensely vigilant

about a safe roof.

Across Britain,
the biting easterly winds

whipped up the snow
into blinding blizzards.

In places,
it was a complete whiteout.

It was quite difficult
to make your way

from one step to another
in very deep snow,

because it was continuous.

And you just thought, "If it could
just let up for a minute,

"I could make my way
to this next lamp post”,

but it didn't.

The snow was already building
with drifts, enormous drifts,

up to 23 feet high.

Now, that is as tall
as a two-storey building.

Some villages in the Peak District
almost disappeared completely.

NEWSREEL: Up north,
the little town of Padfield

continues to face
a spectacular ordeal by snow,

with many houses
literally buried in deep drifts.

Some of the snow is cleared
to let daylight into the bedrooms,

while Padfield folk somehow manage
to keep cheerful in spite of it all.

Just a mile from Padfield,

Amanda Barrie was staying at
her grandfather's remote bungalow.

I was in bed with my mother,

because I think we'd sat up all
night talking, as we usually did.

We said, "Well, it's not time
to get up because it's dark.”

"We'll go back to sleep for a bit."
So we went back to sleep.

Quite extraordinary,
it was still dark!

And it went on being dark,

because what we hadn't realised
was the snow,

because we were at the side
of a hill, had just snowed over us,

so there weren't any windows,
basically, that we could see out of,

so it was still dark.

And then we realised
we couldn't open the front door.

Anyway, the farmer came up
because he realised that we were in,

and he dug us out.

The winter of 1982 saw similar chaos
and some snowdrifts 20ft deep.

NEWSREEL: In the isolated villages
of Wales,

people are running short
of heating fuels,

and food and medical supplies
are gradually running out.

This digger has moved
just 20 yards in two days.

Also dubbed the Big Snow,

the country suffered recurring
blizzards for two months.

And during 2018's
Beast from the East,

the Welsh valleys were hit hard.

Snowdrifts buried cars.

But when it comes
to the sheer volume of snow,

the winter of 1947
remains unparalleled.

The snow repeatedly drifted up
against the front of the houses,

up to bedroom level,

and, in some cases,
right up to roof level.

And because so many of the men in
the street were miners or ex-miners,

they did what miners do,
and dug tunnels.

One of my strongest memory,

wrapped up against the cold in
my shorts and my Wellington boots,

was being able to go up and down
the street under the snow.

And I distinctly remember
this kind of, uh, bluey-white light,

and being able to walk up
and down to our neighbour's houses

and play with the kids
in these tunnels.

NEWSREEL: The worst spell of weather
for 50 years.

We hope it'll be 50 more
before we get another.

By early February, Brits were
growing weary of the Big Snow.

The blast of snow and ice
and sub-zero temperatures

was like something that nobody
had ever experienced before.

But the Big Freeze
was only just getting started.

And the very last thing
that Brits wanted

was the government
to turn the power off.

By the start of February 1947,

Britain had already endured
more than a week of heavy snow

and plunging temperatures,

and the country had begun
to grind to a standstill.

NEWSREEL: Scenes in the Midlands
tell their own story

of what's been happening
on the roads of Britain.

Everything came to a halt.

Going to work became an adventure.

Getting home from work
became a real challenge.

This really was a hammer blow
to the entire country.

The AA reported that nearly
all roads in Great Britain

were covered with snow and ice.

Every Sunday, we used to like
to go across the city

to visit my old granny.

But it was difficult getting
to the bus stop to start with,

and then there was no guarantee
that the buses would run.

Often, they didn't.

NEWSREEL: Bulldozers, by the way,

evidently make excellent
snowploughs,

but chipping the ice off roads
after the snow's gone

seems an almost hopeless task.

Because it was so cold,

there was a freezing mound of ice
on the ground,

so the snow was falling
on top of ice,

making it incredibly treacherous.

But in 1947,
working from home wasn't an option.

My father worked in the steelworks.

He went at three o'clock one morning
in order to get to work,

and it took him about four
or five hours to get there

over the mountain.

He did a 12-hour shift
and then walked back.

That was pretty typical
of millions of men in that winter.

And Britain's emergency services
had no choice but to carry on.

In Keighley, a 75-year-old woman
was pulled on a sledge for two miles

to try and get her to hospital.

In Wensleydale, two doctors walked
for nine hours

in blizzard conditions

to try and reach
a nine-year-old girl

who was suffering from appendicitis.

But it was disruption to the
railways that hit Britain hardest.

Inevitably,
the rail network collapsed,

so getting from A to B
became almost impossible.

The nation relied on the railway.

Food's delivered by the railway.

Coal's delivered by the railway.
Passengers are delivered by railway.

Animal feeds
are delivered by railway.

The railway did everything
because there were no motorways.

So when you paralyse the country
with these snowdrifts,

like there was,
there is only one thing you can do,

and that's...
You've got to unblock the railways.

Snowplough trains were used
to try to clear the tracks.

They will have two engines,

snowplough at the front,
and a snowplough at the back.

And they would back up

for up to a mile,
three quarters of a mile.

Then whack the engine
into forward gear,

and then hit that bank of snow up
between 35 and 45 miles an hour.

And in the front of those
snowploughs, there were men,

you know, guiding it to make sure
that... It was unbelievable.

Nobody would do it today,

the health and safety committees
would have a heart attack.

Even the snowplough trains
were getting stuck

in these massive depths of snow.

There were reports of people
being stranded in trains

for days on end.

NEWSREEL: Here's one method,
perhaps a trifle primitive,

of clearing the line.

In many cases, the only option
was to dig the trains out by hand.

NEWSREEL: German prisoners of war

have been trying to keep the lines
clear for the coal trains.

We used prisoners of war
to manually dig the snow.

But with that strong easterly wind,
gales coming in from the east,

they never stopped.

The snow is higher than they are,
and they're throwing this snow up,

and they're doing this day
after day.

You know, their muscles must
have been utterly unbelievable.

Just think about it now
and it's like, how do they do this?

In a desperate attempt to help,
the authorities began brainstorming.

In Europe, dynamite was used.

But us Brits came up with something
a bit more sophisticated.

NEWSREEL: One idea was to mount
two jet aero engines on trucks

and half melt,
half blow the snow away.

So, somebody came up
with a bright idea.

Why don't we put a jet engine
on the back of a wagon

and get a locomotive
to move that along,

and we'll blow the snow away?

We have to understand
that everybody was desperate.

So when desperation is, you know,
your norm, you'll try anything.

NEWSREEL: Reports say
the experiment was successful.

Certainly looked it, anyway.

But the news reports were premature.

Well, of course it doesn't work.
It blows the snow away.

But the heat buckles the rails.

You know, it don't take a genius

to know what happens to steel
if you heat it up.

By February 6th,

the disruption to the railways
had led to a shortage of coal.

Britain in the 1940s ran on coal.

It was everywhere,
and essential everywhere.

NEWSREEL: At places, people queued
through night and early morning

in freezing conditions

to get a little bit
to carry on with.

Coal was still the main form
of heating in houses,

and if there isn't enough,
that means you can't heat your home.

Everybody had a coal fire,
we had no central heating,

you relied on coal.

The whole nation did.

Industry run on coal.

Electricity was produced
from coal.

And every household
had to have coal.

That was life.

Even before the snow arrived,
stocks were running low.

In the last couple of years of
the war, 10% of all conscripted men,

10% were sent down the mines
rather than to the front lines,

producing enough to keep
the engine of Britain rolling.

By 1947, however,
many of them were going home.

Our coal production was sliding down
and down and down,

not our consumption -
we still wanted it -

but we were not producing
enough coal to keep us going.

During the Big Snow, the army were,
once again, sent in to help.

NEWSREEL: These scenes are being
repeated at many collieries

where troops and civilians
are working together,

loading up the army lorries.

But it was too little, too late.

NEWSREEL: Coal mines,
idle because of the storms,

point dramatically
to Britain's scarcity of fuel.

My great-uncle was a coalman,

and he had a wonderful old
cart horse, called Sam, I remember.

And he and Sam didn't get out
much at all that winter

because, A,
he couldn't get coal supplies,

and B, Sam couldn't cope
with the hills all around

because, you know, the ice was
making him slide down again.

So, um, he didn't have any coal
to deliver

for, you know,
getting on for three months.

NEWSREEL: London, caught with
only one week's supply of fuel,

unloads a weather-beaten collier of
its last trickle of precious coal.

And barges carrying some
of the dwindling supplies

are blocked off
in ice-jammed canals.

Fearing the shortage would result in
cuts to the supply of electricity,

the chairman of London's largest
supplier appealed for help.

This is the most serious blow

that has ever befallen British
industry in his long history.

It is your job,
and my job, to save fuel,

especially electricity,

in all ways and at all times.

Many did exactly that.

My parents decided, almost
at the outset of the blizzards,

to leave our home

and move in with my grandfather
and my uncle and aunt

in order to conserve food
and energy,

and, most specifically, coal.

But by February 7th,

with temperatures rarely getting
above freezing

and snow typically a foot deep,

power cuts were common,

leaving families
without electricity and gas.

NEWSREEL: The power shutdown
brings out candles

in offices and homes
throughout the land.

Once again,
the blackout envelops Britain.

I can remember we had
a good stock of candles,

and I remember my dad reading me
bedtime stories by candlelight.

Just imagine for a minute,
25ft snowdrifts,

-23 at night,

no sunshine, no central heating,
no double glazing.

And now,
power cuts sweeping the country.

It was pretty grim.

NEWSREEL: This temporary stoppage

obviously means a heavy loss
in exports.

And of course, there's always
the danger of unemployment.

Industry, too, was hit hard.

NEWSREEL: Much of the news
of the coal shortage,

some might call it a crisis,

has centred on
the Austin Motor Works, Birmingham.

In 1947, the Austin Motor Works
factory in Birmingham

produced almost a third
of Britain's cars,

but when it ran out of coal,
it closed.

14,000 workers were sent home
until further notice.

But how are you affected by this
coal shortage, Mr Burr? Directly.

Well, we require 1,800 tonnes
per week

to keep this plant
in full production.

As so often is the case in crisis,

it was the poor
who really suffered most.

There was a massive spike
in unemployment,

and even if you managed
to hang on to a job,

the chances were
you wouldn't be working full time.

They were suddenly having to manage

through the most difficult time
of the year

with far less money.

NEWSREEL: Freezing weather,
heavy snows

and an extreme shortage of coal
have paralysed the country.

Transportation
is seriously disrupted.

An entire nation teeters
on the brink of economic disaster.

Two million people were laid off,
the country was grinding to a halt

and taking a serious economic hit
at the same time.

NEWSREEL: From Number 10
Downing Street,

Prime Minister Attlee
decrees nationwide reductions

in the use of coal and electricity.

On the 10th of February,

the government decided its only
option was to ration electricity.

NEWSREEL: And when the nation was
literally threatened with disaster,

the power cut was ordered.

A lot of people thought,
"Why a cut?

"Is this a time to cut the power

"when we need the power urgently?"

And, of course, it was...
It was the only possible way.

The government had no choice

but to initiate a series
of rolling power cuts.

It started by five hours a day.

Power cuts in London,

into the Midlands
and the North-west.

And in the end,
those power cuts were rolled out

across the whole of the UK.

NEWSREEL: In places where work
could be done,

it was done
by the flickering light of candles.

In many cafes and eating houses,
it was the same.

Traffic lights went out.

Entertainment, of course,
was severely restricted.

Only essential workers,
as those in hospitals, for example,

were still permitted full use
of light and power.

I remember every night,
we sort of huddled around the fire

trying to keep warm,

and we'd have a hot meal

if the electricity was on
and the gas was on,

or we'd have just sandwiches.

NEWSREEL: In some shops,

workers wrapped in heavy clothes
carry on a feeble production.

One factory even turned
to pedal power

in a desperate attempt to stay open.

NEWSREEL: Here, for instance,
a bicycle drives a compressor

during switch off periods,
saving the output of 23 workers.

The entertainment industry
was also affected.

To heighten the sense of misery,

BBC TV services ended
to conserve electricity.

Theatres were closed,
cinemas were closed.

But at least the
British Film Festival went ahead.

NEWSREEL: London's horribly cold
weather

entirely failed to deter film fans
from crowding Leicester Square

to see the stars arrive
for the British Film Festival.

Everybody arriving
in their overcoats.

I mean, it wasn't a red carpet,

they looked like they needed
a red flannel blanket, rather.

NEWSREEL: I also had the pleasure
of being there

and meeting many friends
in the film world,

including the irrepressible
Tessie O'Shea.

Well, I must say, it's nice to see

that the cold spell
doesn't affect you.

All wrapped up and somewhere to go.

Don't ask me to take this off.
I've got the curlers in.

By mid-February,

Britain was experiencing one of
the worst winters ever recorded.

It was already the snowiest
period of weather since 1814

and people were thinking,
"It can't possibly go on any longer.

"It can't get any worse."

And just when we thought it couldn't
possibly get any colder, it did.

By mid-February 1947,

the Big Freeze had been raging
for three long weeks.

Cold shortages had left many Brits
without heat or power,

and now some were running
out of food.

Pack ice in the North Sea
was hitting Britain's fishing fleet.

NEWSREEL: Here, at Leicester,

the ice-covered trawlers returned
from their Arctic voyages

having faced
some of the worst hazards

that many of their crews
can remember.

And Britain's farmers
were on the brink.

Well, the Big Snow really affected
Britain's farming industry.

Crops, especially the root crops,
frozen in the ground.

In some places,
farmers used pneumatic drills

to try and get the veggies
out of the ground.

And, of course,
livestock suffered terribly.

NEWSREEL: Here, on Ilkley Moor,

mountain sheep come down
to the towns in search of food,

while others are still being dug out
of deep drifts.

Shepherds were in tears

as they tried to rescue their sheep
from the drifts,

and they just couldn't.

A lot of cattle died as well.

It was a terrible time.

Farming was decimated.
Two million sheep lost their lives.

A half a million acres
of winter wheat was destroyed,

and the potato crop was ruined.

Even before the Big Freeze,
food was in short supply.

Bread had been rationed
just six months earlier.

I get up wondering what
I'm going to give the boys to eat,

and the stuff I have to put
in front of their father

doesn't bear thinking about.

Food in 1947 was, erm...
Well, there wasn't much of it.

1947 was actually
more tightly rationed,

considerably more tightly rationed,

than it had been during the war.

Toast and dried egg breakfasts
aren't much to shout about,

but now even they're going.

You couldn't choose what you had
for dinner.

You had to have what was available.

You didn't waste it because
there wouldn't be any seconds.

That's why everybody looks so skinny
in all that footage,

because they're not eating much.

NEWSREEL: Here is a comparison

of the Australian
and English food rations.

Health-giving butter is down
to two ounces a week,

while the small margarine allowance
has been reduced a further ounce.

I mean, the amount of butter you got
for a week

is about the amount you would
probably expect to have

at a rather poor restaurant,

on the side of your plate
to have a bit of cheese with.

I mean, it was nothing.

I remember food was scarce.

There were always tips
on how to eke out your food.

Mum had to use barley
to stretch things out,

and barley used to make me cockle,
and I couldn't stand it.

But she had to use barley
to eke out the rations.

So, when the Big Snow hit,
Britain faced the very real prospect

of a frozen famine.

Food couldn't get through
to towns and villages,

which were becoming cut off.

So, at times,
it was becoming quite desperate.

Rural parts of the UK
were getting close to starvation.

So, just as it did
a few years earlier, during the war,

Britain turned to the RAF for help.

NEWSREEL: Here at Fairford,
in Gloucestershire,

ground crews are busy loading
containers with essential supplies

to be dropped to snowbound
Midland communities

cut off from all communication
with the outside world.

Loaded on board -
not bombs, but bread.

World War Two bombers
were used to airdrop food.

That is how severe
the situation had become.

But on February 13th,

one of the bombers dropping aid
got into trouble.

Bear in mind,
these aircraft were flying

in really atrocious
weather conditions

and inevitably, one did crash,
with eight fatalities.

NEWSREEL: A gallant crew
who had laid down their lives

in the service of their fellow men.

But despite the dangers,

Brits were determined to help
each other through the crisis.

I remember a huge feeling
of neighbourliness

during the Great Snow.

Nobody wanted a neighbour
to freeze to death

so people would pop into your house,
say, "Are you OK? Everything fine?

"Got enough fuel?
Got enough food?"

It was, if you like,
the Blitz spirit all over again.

People in 1947 had a lot
of experience to draw on.

They had been through a world war,

so many people were able
to draw on that.

Good heavens,
Hitler's threat hadn't broken them,

the bombing hadn't broken them.

So no, a little bit of cold weather,
they could put up with that.

Everybody was so stoic.

We were not depressed at all.
We were cheerful.

And I don't remember any austerity
ever dampening our spirits.

Ever.

And there was a sense of, you know,
we need to dust ourselves down

and try and get on with this.

Yorkshire postman walking
for over 100 miles in a week,

refusing to give way,

wanting to get the post
through people's letterboxes.

Even in the most remote villages
and hamlets across the county,

"The post must get through”
was the motto.

There's the one good thing
about human beings,

that they do pull together
when there's a...

when there's a disaster.

By late February,

that wartime spirit
was being tested once more

as temperatures continued to tumble.

Not only is the weather bitter,
it gets even colder,

the air just sitting over the land,

over a cold surface,

which was the snow and ice.

You know,
temperatures plummeting sub -20.

Even if you were used
to toughing it out

through a British winter
with no heating,

this was something beyond
what you knew what to deal with.

I woke up every morning

knowing that this awful cold
was enveloping me.

I remember in the morning,
getting up

and having to scrape the ice
off the inside of the window.

Now you've got central heating on.

Didn't have any of those things
in 1947.

They gave out service medals,

but they didn't give them to you

until you were able to get into bed
without screaming with cold

as you went down the sheets

that were like sliding
into a refrigerator.

I remember hands
being a particular problem.

We got chilblains and stupidly
thought we could cure the chilblains

by taking hot mugs of coffee
and that sort of thing,

which made your hands, of course,
blister and be very painful.

The ends of your fingers,

they sort of feel as though
they're dropping off.

We just shivered in this,
a Siberian climate.

I mean,
I don't know how I survived, really.

In the Peak District,
the natural water supply froze,

leaving families with little option
but to use snow instead.

We got snow and we scooped it up,
melted it down a bit,

then it got boiled a bit.

So we did...
We got some water that way

for, I think, for sort of washing-up
purposes more than anything else.

Meanwhile, in Coventry,

the wWaterman family were busy
looking after a noisy newborn.

When my parents
and my grandparents were alive,

every birthday had the story

of how I was born in the middle
of the worst snowstorm in 100 years,

and my dad was in the loft
shovelling out the snow

so it didn't fall on my mum.

In fact, Britain was at the height
of a post-war baby boom.

NEWSREEL: At the food office,

more babies mean longer queues
for new ration books,

and a record rush, too,
on priority baby food.

We see a huge spike
in the number of births

in this immediate post-war period.

People are getting married
like there's no tomorrow,

and they are producing
like there's no tomorrow.

You can almost spot
when my lad was demobbed,

along with everybody else,

which is why, of course,
'47 was the big year of births,

because all the soldiers came home.

And you can tell because we're
all born exactly nine months later.

So, when the winter of 1947 hits,
there are a lot of mothers

with tiny, nappy-wearing babies.

My heart goes out to them.
How on earth did they cope?

This is a day before disposables.
They've all got to be washed.

How? With next to no coal
to heat your water,

with water that's frozen solid
in many places,

how the heck do you manage a baby

and keep your child clean and safe
in those sorts of circumstances?

The work involved, and the worry.

And for many women,
life at work was just as hard.

The winter of 1947 had massive
consequences for my family.

My mother was a district nurse,

and she went to work
every single day.

And as a consequence,

at some time,
I guess in February, got pneumonia,

and she didn't stop work.

She kept on working,

which meant that she got
a second bout,

and it inflicted asthma on her,

which, eventually,
in the early 1970s, killed her.

So her dedication cost her life,
I guess.

NEWSREEL: The worst snowfall
since 1965

has brought much of Britain
to a standstill.

In December 2010, temperatures
threatened to reach 1947 levels

when the mercury in North Yorkshire
plunged to -20.

But by comparison,
that freeze was short lived.

And on February 25th, 1947,

the temperature in Bedfordshire fell
to -21 degrees Celsius.

There weren't many lighter notes
in this winter,

but the polar bears at Whipsnade Zoo
were loving every minute of it, -21.

They must have thought
that overnight

they'd been transported back
to the Arctic.

Temperatures were so low that school
milk was turning into ice cream.

We used to be given
little bottles of free milk,

and the cream on top of the bottle
used to pop out

like a cream lolly
on top of the milk.

And we used to lick away
at our cream lollies

before we drank the milk.

And in Bradford,
the freezing temperatures

gave one woman
a rather nasty shock.

Put her false teeth
in a glass of water by the bed.

Woke up the next morning

and the false teeth had frozen
in that tumbler of water.

Which gives you an idea
of just how freezing cold it was

inside some of these houses.

February turned out
to be the coldest

since records began
way back in 1659.

And the snow just kept on falling.

In some parts,
26 out of the 28 days,

there was falling snow.

It's just a dark tunnel of ice
and blasting winds.

The only cold that I've ever
experienced that compares

was when I went to southeast Siberia
to make a television program me,

where it was 50 degrees below.

It was so cold
that it stopped Kinnock speaking.

That takes some doing.

By March 10th,

Britain had spent almost seven weeks
at the mercy of the Big Snow.

But then came a change.

At long last, the temperature
eventually started to rise.

But that just caused
some of the worst flooding

that this country has ever seen.

On March 10th, 1947,

after seven weeks of snow and ice,

Britain's Arctic weather
began to change.

Inevitably, winter came to an end,

and the jet stream
eventually won through,

bringing mild and wet weather up
from the southwest.

There was a morning when I thought,
why don't I feel really cold?

Why do I feel I can
actually put one leg out of bed

and not feel
that it's encased in snow?

But the milder air had a sting
in its tail.

We've had about 55 days in all

of snow and ice and wind

and temperatures which had
never been recorded ever before.

How much frozen water is sitting

on the land of the UK?

The meltwater just rushed off
the land and flooded everything.

NEWSREEL: After Britain's coldest
spell for over 50 years

come the biggest road floods
in living memory.

In London,
the River Lea burst its banks.

NEWSREEL: Pathe cameramen are there

for the rescue of people
trapped in waterlogged homes.

By rowing boat and punts,

police and firemen worked
to evacuate marooned people.

As bad as the winter was
for snow and ice,

and as depressing as it was,

in many ways, the flooding caused
much more misery.

This was real hardship.

This was people's homes
being completely wrecked

by a wall of floodwater.

Across the country, railway workers,
still exhausted from clearing snow,

now work to repair the tracks
from flood damage.

On March 15th, floodwater swept
into London's Lea Bridge Waterworks,

contaminating the supply

and leaving around a million people
in the East End without fresh water.

But the cinema newsreels
did their best to keep up morale.

Without delay, fleets of tanker
lorries went into action

and were soon hard at it,
dealing with urgent needs

and bringing back memories
of the Blitz.

Anyway, the same cheery smiles
were still there

as Londoners cope
with just one more crisis.

You heard the voice there,
because, being British,

"We'll turn it into something good."

The English voices
that were used at that time

to tell us that everything
was perfectly all right.

And there we were, you know.

We weren't.

NEWSREEL: In the neighbourhood
of Windsor, Runnymede, and Staines.

Roads have been as much as three
feet underwater in some places.

Flooding was reported
in 30 English counties

and some areas of Wales,

and parts of the Thames rose
to record levels.

It was a strange time.

You just had got over one crisis

when another one popped along.

All the time,
evacuation has been going on,

as the waters rose higher still.

Some of the riverside dwellers
managed to get about,

but they don't know where they'd be
without the Thames Valley's new bus.

We suddenly found there were
an amazing number of boats,

and people could use them
to do their shopping

and come back
and live on the top floor

and eat their scrambled eggs.

In Kent, the River Medway
also burst its banks.

NEWSREEL: The Medway
has been overflowing,

and Maidstone itself
has been underwater.

Flooding from the river
has been extensive,

and damage to property
has been mounting.

The daily flow of water
during the thaw

was 61.7 billion litres.

For the millions
of people being impacted

by this immense loss of their homes,

the loss of their livelihoods,
the loss of their crops,

this was a devastating event which
swept across the whole of the UK.

The thaw was vicious,
it was rapid,

and it annihilated many communities.

It turned out to be some
of the worst flooding

that the country
has ever experienced.

But once again,
Brits tried to make the best of it.

NEWSREEL: This is one way of
delivering the milk, at any rate.

The British spirit
sort of came together yet again.

The milkman delivering milk

on a pole through people's bedroom
windows

because there was six foot
of floodwater

which had completely wrecked
the lower half of the house.

So people were just trying,
trying to get on with things

and just trying to see through
what was a dreadful time.

This is just another appalling
challenge

sent to be endured,

and it literally was a matter
of keep calm and carry on.

Nowhere was that Blitz spirit
needed more

than in East Anglia's
low-lying Fens.

NEWSREEL: That's the breach caused
by the overflowing of the Great Ouse

near Earith in Huntingdonshire.

Already, it's caused
disastrous flooding of the Fens.

Homes and farms were evacuated.

Well, Mrs Gudgeon, you seem
to have had a very frightening time.

Tell me what happened last night.

Well, we were just ready to go
to bed when police came

and ask us to get hubby,
who is an invalid, up,

and get him out from the banks here

into a gentleman’s institute.

So you really had to get out
in a big hurry? Yeah.

What about you?
What were you doing?

Oh, I was knitting when I heard
the knock on the door,

so I left the three children out.
And we couldn't dress them,

we just put some warm, woollies on.
And the wind was too strong.

And some kind people took us
in the car.

Winds had whipped up floodwaters
into waves

that had breached the dykes,

creating an inland sea
and flooding rich farmland.

NEWSREEL: By night, searchlights
illuminate a tragic scene

as some of Britain's richest
agricultural land

becomes an ever-widening sea
of desolation.

The government issued a £1 million
grant to help flood victims,

and Canada sent food parcels
to stricken villages in Suffolk.

Meanwhile, it was a race
against time to repair the dykes.

NEWSREEL: 24 hours a day, troops,
prisoners of war

and civilian workers
lab our to close the gaps

and bring relief
to the surrounding villages

and to the farmland so vital
to our national food production.

Thousands of soldiers,

British soldiers, Polish soldiers,

German prisoners of war

were drafted in with pumps to try
and get the water off the Fens.

And in fact,
they did a brilliant job.

NEWSREEL: The Army brought up their
amphibious Neptune tanks by night.

In bitterly cold weather,
searchlights lit up the scene

as tanks and tarpaulins
were placed in position.

Reinforcements consisted of sandbags

laid all round on the upstream side
of the Neptunes.

But constant rain hampered
their efforts.

This turned out to be
the wettest March on record

and for many,
a very, very miserable month.

Specialist machinery was sent
from the Netherlands,

and expert engineers flown in.

The government were paranoid about
starvation going forward

because, of course,
you know, this was arable land.

This is the breadbasket of the UK,
if you like.

And they were really,
really worried

about what was coming down the road

once the floodwaters had gone
and once the snow had melted.

Would there be enough food
to feed the British public?

The government was doing its best

to try and bring in food supplies
from around the world,

and there were government ministers
who were scouring the world

for sources of food.

The floods were estimated
to have cost Britain

up to £4.5 billion
in today's prices.

It was a terrible time,

and it took farming a few years
to recover from that blow.

But the winter of 1947
wasn't done yet.

As if Mother Nature couldn't throw
anything else at the UK,

there was one final kick
in the teeth.

On March 16th, 1947,

just days after some of
the worst floods in living memory,

Britain was hit
by yet another climatic event.

As if Mother Nature couldn't throw
anything else at the UK,

there was one final kick
in the teeth

because when the mild air eventually
won through,

it was down to a very intense area
of low pressure

which swept across the country.

It did bring mild air in,
but it brought storm force winds.

NEWSREEL: In St John's Wood,
two people lost their lives

when a chimney stack fell
through the house.

It was an intense windstorm.

It packed a punch.

This was a beast.

And this was
the Beast from the West,

because it came in and it
completely pounded into the UK

with winds up to 100 miles an hour.

In the stricken Fens,

the gales whipped up
the recent floodwater into waves,

which crashed into houses and barns.

As the water rose once more,

livestock desperately scrambled
for higher ground.

NEWSREEL: As the water swirled
into their farmyards,

families were moved to safety
with all they could carry,

and from barns and burrows,

the rescuers salvaged
all they could.

In total, 15 people were killed,
and many more were injured.

The storm marked the end

of one of the worst winters
of the 20th century.

Statistically, the Big Freeze
of 1963 was the coldest,

with temperatures dipping
below 22 degrees Celsius.

It lasted for nearly three months.

But 1947 was the snowiest winter
of the 20th century,

and, for many, the worst.

It certainly was
the most extreme winter

that I think anybody, or any of our
family have ever had to contemplate.

Certainly, there's never been
anything like that

in our lives since.

We all grew up with the same stories

from our parents
and our grandparents

about how tough this was

and how we were born
in this amazing freak weather,

and how they coped with it.

We've had some pretty bad winters
since then,

but if you've lived through '47,

nothing else really counts.

One immediate legacy of that winter

was a push
for Brits to do more gardening.

In April 1947,

with farmland still decimated
by snow, ice, and floodwater,

the Minister Of Agriculture,
Tom Williams,

called on townspeople
to help feed Britain.

Please don't forget the value
of our allotments

to our national food supply,

and those of you with a back garden
can help us materially.

As soon as the ground melted
and we could plant seeds again,

we all got back to digging for...
post victory.

I think the BBC

started Gardener's Question Time
round about then,

still going strong today.

And so is the gardening spirit.

You know, we all have continued
to be a nation of gardeners.

The amount of people
that had allotments,

I think it really sort of took off.

They all went off
with their cigarettes

down to the allotment,

newspaper, dog...

Sort of very English, actually.

But did 1947 prompt an instant
improvement in weather forecasting?

Well, in June that year,
Pathe News tried to find out.

NEWSREEL: Our reporter visits the
Bartley brothers, John and Dennis,

professional weather forecasters,

ready to forecast
up to 12 months ahead.

12 months ahead!

Ten million people
will be on holiday in August.

What are their chances?

Shall we tell him?

Well, it's going to be very,
very disappointing.

Heavy downpours of rain.
Thunderstorms.

I don't think it will be
a very good month at all.

Well, it certainly raises
a smile, watching that.

"Shall I break it to them?"

It was actually one of
the best Augusts ever recorded.

NEWSREEL: I expect you've noticed
that Britain, of all places,

has been having a heatwave.

After all the devastation
of the snow and the floods,

we had a beautiful summer.

That summer of '47 was like...
a payoff.

"We've gone through all this,
thank God.

"Now we're going to have
a great summer."

And during that long, hot summer,

Brits had something else
to celebrate.

The Court Circular issued
from Buckingham Palace

confirmed popular rumour
concerning the engagement

of Her Royal Highness
Princess Elizabeth,

heiress presumptive to the throne.

What the nation really needed
after the snow and all the flooding

was a bit of really good news,

and we got it.

The nation had
its fairy tale princess

marrying her fairy tale prince.

The couple tied the knot
on November 20th.

NEWSREEL: And how they cheered
the happy pair

when they came out onto the balcony.

A big occasion where everybody
got together and cheered

and felt a little bit better for it.

It was just a wonderful love match.
It was absolutely wonderful.

We were all blissfully happy
for them

because we could see
they were happy.

My goodness, this country needed
something like that.

It was really, really important.

Suitably,
the royal wedding took place

on the mildest November 20th
ever recorded.

1947 was
an absolutely remarkable year.

We had the snowiest winter
since 1814,

the coldest February on record -
those records go back to 1659 -

the wettest March on record,

the worst floods in many areas
in living memory.

And then what followed was one
of the best summers ever recorded.

And the Met Office later said

that 1947 was unique
in meteorological history.

And, for the children who
experienced that terrible winter,

a brighter future
was just around the corner.

ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC

There was this surge that came up,
'50s, '60s,

who of, of all that energy.

Along came rock and roll,
and Elvis and cliff.

And then the Swinging '60s
were just ahead as well.

So, the late '40s saw the start

of what was going to be
much better times.

But the winter of 1947 forever left
its mark on those who endured it.

The memory of that cold
got into me very, very deeply.

I didn't like plays
which, automatically,

you assumed there would be a lot
of cold involved.

I thought, well, I don't like that.

Do something else.

God forbid that our country,
our economy,

should ever experience that again.

For people like me,
who survived that winter of '47,

erm, you know, you could throw
anything at us and we'd cope.

Really, what they did was heroic.
Really.

I mean, we can't talk highly enough
about how they got through this.

Will we get the severity of '47
again?

I would say very, very unlikely
in a warming world,

but I think another severe winter
in future is likely,

even though they'll become
less frequent with time.

Would something like that ever
happen again?

Well, never say never.

Certainly, there would be
a lot more warning.