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“Three
cheers for the red, white and blue!”
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If it is true that “good things come in small
packages,” then our most holy wartime ration books were just
extraordinary! Although not much larger than a picture post card,
this small booklet was one of the most prized and valuable possessions
of each American.
The early stages of rationing were innocuous enough,
involving only a few minor controls. But before long, the system
developed tentacles that spread out in all directions and affected
almost all our daily activities, from the quantity and kind of
food we ate to the distance we might travel to visit friends and
family. Even a daily walk could be a major indulgence as shoes
were rationed, too.
Our introduction to the system began with War Ration
Book One, probably better known to our Government Printing Office
as “OPA Form No. R-302.” This was a simple sheet of
ordinary white letter-size paper imprinted with regulations governing
its use, information necessary to identify its owner and twenty-eight
white war ration stamps. Each stamp, when declared valid, was
redeemable for the purchase of coffee, sugar or shoes, depending
upon the designation of the particular stamp.
Even though this first ration book was easy to understand,
the novel idea of rationing was suddenly sprung on an unprepared
public. Before long, local ration boards were swamped with dozens
of complaints from frustrated citizens. Some persons had misplaced
their books, lost them on the bus, had seen them destroyed by
the baby or torn to shreds by the playful family pup. Scores of
“want ads” seeking lost and strayed ration books appeared
daily in the Washington newspapers.
Probably the most distressed and confused individuals
were those who simply could not understand that in addition to
surrendering a ration stamp for a commodity they also must pay
in cash money the price required.
Though these early consumer griefs were undoubtedly
upsetting to the pioneer ration boards they served at least one
worthwhile purpose. They helped condition board members to the
bitter battles soon to come and helped steel them to the roars
of protest and thousands of erratic questions which became an
inescapable part of their jobs.
Little did we then dream that before the end of
the war subsequent ration books would become far more complicated.
Deciphering them also forced us to brush up on all our numbers,
letters of the alphabet, overlapping dates of the calendar, and
to become familiar with pictures of airplanes, tanks, guns, the
horn of plenty, the torch of liberty and assorted other patriotic
symbols. Little did we then dream that not only would we have
to recognize these mystifying symbols but correctly fit each piece
into a fascinating jigsaw puzzle in order to be rewarded by being
able to purchase a pound of butter, a gallon of gas or a pair
of shoes.
In the Beginning…
Rationing was first used for sugar in May 1942. Coffee
rationing began on November 29, 1942, with an allowance of one
pound for a five-week period; shoes were put on the list of rationed
articles in February 1943.
Coffee rationing proved to be the first big headache.
Many coffee drinkers had a terrible time trying to make their
one allotted pound of coffee stretch for five long weeks. All
sorts of ideas were tried —
using old coffee grounds, diluting fresh grounds with stale ones,
drinking weaker coffee, and borrowing from non-coffee-drinking
friends — but despite all these
efforts the ration allowed was generally not adequate for the
needs of coffee lovers.
Some persons turned to hoarding. I heard of one
lady who not only redeemed all her own coffee stamps but begged
and borrowed all she could get from her friends, on the plea that
she had just "run short." When coffee was finally taken off the
list of rationed commodities this miserly individual was found
holding over a hundred pounds of coffee
— all of it stale!
In Washington the news of shoe rationing leaked
out a day ahead of time and some of our citizens just about made
a sudden clean sweep of the local shoe stores. With such a beginning,
many individuals undoubtedly had a good head start on the rationing
process. Most of us, however, were not so lucky and we spent the
rest of the war years constantly trying to guess which family
members were about to outgrow or wear out their shoes.
Three cheers for the red, white and blue!
The fun really began when Ration Book No. 2 was
issued. No longer could we eat, drink and be merry. This new edict
immediately transformed us into squirrels who must store up their
nuts against a hard winter. And store them we did, grudgingly
if not willingly.
In order to secure our personal copy of this new
ration book, every man, woman and child in the country was required
to declare in writing the exact current status of his or her pantry
shelves. We had to declare every can of processed food in our
possession — no fair skipping
the hoard in the basement or in the refrigerator either. Should
we have been thrifty the preceding fall and painstakingly canned
hundreds of jars of food from our victory garden, we were penalized,
not rewarded, for our efforts as they counted against us, too.
In making our official “declaration” eight
points were removed from our new ration book for each can on our
itemized list. Some folks were unlucky enough to be caught at
a time when their grocery stock was at an all-time high. If the
number of points to be removed exceeded the complete total available
in one person's new ration book, then an appropriate adjustment
was also made in the points of books belonging to other members
of the family.
The procedure of declaring stocks of canned goods
was executed purely on an honor system, which I am sure was the
only practical method. Now I do not by any means intend to question
the complete integrity of the residents of Washington or any other
city, but I did wonder whether the honor system functioned very
well. Quite a few newspaper stories in the months to come carried
banner headlines and stories outlining major discrepancies and
mysterious double crosses all over the country.
The week assigned for declaring canned good stocks
was declared a “canned goods holiday” for the grocers.
During this week no cans of food could be sold so that both housewives
and grocers might have sufficient time to take stock of their
wares. Declaring our own stock of canned goods was hardly a chore
as we had cleaned out our pantry shelves before moving to a new
apartment only a week earlier. Needless to say, we didn't
need an entire week to add up our canned goods and each succeeding
day brought our total down to an alarming low. By the declaration
deadline, we had only a grand total of eight cans to our name.
If I was not happy about our low stock of canned
goods, the volunteer worker who processed my papers was, for my
application contained no complex mathematical problem at all.
Even I can multiply eight times eight and sometimes get the correct
answer and so I could scarcely hope to baffle these logistics
experts. They finished with me quickly and I soon dashed home,
clutching my brand new books.
There Must be a Better Plan…
Itemizing and declaring our canned goods turned out
to be only the first rationing hurdle. Another jolt was yet in
store for us. Since we had been deprived of eight points for each
can we possessed, regardless of its contents, most of us assumed
that eight points would be the standard value assigned to all
cans of food purchased in the future. Imagine our consternation
when certain canned goods, particularly fruits, required using
twenty, thirty, even forty points, while other foods were assigned
a zero value.
Again, we roared! It now appeared that most of us
were well stocked with the ration-free goods but had been gypped
out of eight perfectly good points per can just for having them.
And now we had to pay in points several times the original value
to secure the food we didn't have! Such luck!
At least our new ration books were handsome things,
composed of red and blue stamps lettered from A
— Z. Each lettered column was subdivided into four
perforated sections bearing the numbers 8, 5, 2 and 1, designating
the point value of each particular stamp. And so there would be
a total of sixteen points represented under letter “A”
and the same for each succeeding letter of the alphabet.
The red stamps were redeemable for the purchase
of butter, margarine, meats, cheese, fats and canned fish. Blue
stamps could be used to purchase canned fruits and vegetables.
In the beginning, one complete letter of the alphabet was declared
valid each succeeding week, or a total of sixteen red points and
sixteen blue points every seven days for each ration book in a
family.
Although the designers of our ration books had undoubtedly
done their best, they had made one big mistake. No provision had
been made for receiving change in using the valuable ration stamps.
The result was about the same as giving the grocer a dollar for
a seventy-five cent purchase and not receiving a quarter change
in return. Either we had to present the exact number of points
for the purchase of merchandise or forfeit the surplus. Thus,
if a can of corn was listed at ten ration points and the only
valid stamps in remaining in our book for the week were the ones
for 5 points and 8 points, either we could do without the corn
or lose three ration points as part of the purchase.
Most families had too few points and too many to
feed to indulge in this philanthropy very often and so we would
go to great lengths in order to make our ration points come out
"right on the nose." If the meat or vegetable we had planned to
eat didn't exactly fit into our available
points, we would change our entire menu in the twinkling of an
eye. We were not at all reluctant to shove cans all over the grocery
shelves to compare the relative point values of every item in
the store. If we had three lone points remaining that were likely
to expire, we would search high and low to find something
— anything at all —
that was listed at exactly three points.
The OPA did regularly issue press releases urging
us to use our stamps of larger denomination first, but for reasons
of forgetfulness, stupidity or sheer orneriness, very few people
wanted to follow their suggested procedure.
We had to pay for our purchases in cash as well
as surrender the ration stamps, but from the very beginning money
became of secondary importance. Never did we ask the butcher,
"How much is that chicken per pound?" Instead, we always automatically
inquired, "How many points on the chicken?"
No matter how carefully we planned the use of our
few weekly points or how craftily we plotted our course through
the grocery aisles — not to
mention the hours we spent in trying to make our ration books
balance — at the end of each
period, we were always outwitted by the ration boards. Why? They
were always changing the point values on us!
Just when we had raked and scraped and done without
in order to have sufficient points to purchase a tempting can
of sugar peas at the outrageous expenditure of twelve ration points,
why, lo and behold, the very next day the value of this item had
dropped to four points, the lowest it had ever been! As surely
as we forgot to get that can of apple juice, the point value on
it would double the following week. The value placed on some fruits
skyrocketed so that I had practically forgotten what they tasted
like by the end of the war.
Trying to beat that game of points was just like
trying to beat the stock market, to win on a horse race or to
hit the jackpot in a slot machine. The odds were heavily stacked
against us.
I read in the newspapers all the so-called technical
reasons underlying these shifts in point values. There was a lot
of information printed about “surpluses,” “unexpected
shortages” and “transportation tie-ups,” about
“shockingly small harvests” or “unusually large
crops.” But most of us were convinced that the OPA just put
all the items in a hat and picked some to go up and some to go
down so they could throw everyone off the track!
We received War Ration Book No. Three at the same
time as Book No. Two, but by war's end the only coupons to be
validated were three airplane stamps redeemable for the purchase
of shoes. It was a consistent disappointment to me that we were
unable to make more use of this book, for its stamps were imprinted
with such thrilling pictures! In addition to the airplanes, there
were pictures of aircraft carriers, tanks and various pieces of
field artillery.
Ration Book Four to the Rescue!
It was indeed a red and blue letter day in the life
of every American when War Ration Book Four made its debut. This
new work was a masterpiece of efficiency and it seemed equipped
to adequately handle any possible contingency. It so completely
outmoded its three predecessors that it made them appear as old
fashioned as the silent movies of yesteryear.
The major chapters of the new book were printed
in unmistakable shades of red, blue and green. The pep squad at
OPA also had a role in the composition of Book Four for each page
was inscribed with an inspiring motto designed to appeal to the
patriotism of each reader.
Most important to all, along with the release of
Book Four, something new and different entered our lives, for
now we could receive tokens as change for ration coupon purchases.
No longer must we haggle over the “point price” of different
items or be left holding odd stamps which, collectively, would
purchase nothing we needed or wanted.
Book Four provided for the use of both red and
blue tokens. These tokens were valued at one point each and would
in the future be accepted as payment for an article or returned
in change should the circumstances warrant. The new tokens were
delivered direct to each grocer. In order to secure some, one
first had to make a purchase, surrender a valid stamp and take
his change in tokens.
They were made of a material very similar to hard
cardboard, dyed either red or blue, and a little smaller in size
than a dime — but to many of
us decidedly more important. The real beauty of the tokens was
that, unlike the coupons, they never expired. If one of your ration
coupons was nearly outdated, you could make one small purchase,
receive tokens in change and save them to use another month.
We had a terrible time keeping War Ration Book Four
intact. As different stamps on different pages were surrendered
from time to time the poor old book became so flimsy, shabby and
dog-eared that it needed a complete overhaul job to put it back
into shape. Stamps were constantly being lost from our books and
it was most disconcerting to find these once valuable but expired
stamps on the floor of the car, under the sofa or hidden in the
lining of a purse.
There's one nice thing I do remember about War Ration
Book Four. It included “spare” stamps that occasionally
were validated for the purchase of five extra pounds of pork.
I don't know what happened to our hogs that year, whether they
had all been given vitamin pills to build up their appetites or
whether the piggy stork just did a boomtime business. At any rate,
the markets were overflowing with pork and the butcher would practically
stand on his head to persuade us to buy a pork cut rather than
to carry away chicken or beef.
I think all of us used our spare stamps to get
our pork bonus, for we had all become so point conscious by this
time that we would gladly eat something we didn't want rather
than to lose it altogether.
Looking back, the “feast” period for pork
was comparatively short and was soon succeeded by a “famine”
period, which lasted until after the war ended. From 1944 on,
the sight of a mere half-pound of bacon in a grocery store was
sufficient cause for a near riot. Hams joined the ranks of tropical
fruit as items practically non-existent in our area.
Along the same lines of “feast or famine”
purchasing came a roller coaster ride on many other food items.
If points were reduced or eliminated on plentiful canned vegetables,
they zoomed out of sight on canned fruit overnight. After we recovered
from our initial shock, we felt no surprise at surrendering forty,
fifty, even a hundred points for a can of fruit. The average family
was able to purchase no more than two or three such cans during
any given four-week period. Even canning your own was difficult
as sugar was on the ration list, too.
Probably everyone saved at least one can of a special
favorite delicacy. Ours was a heavenly concoction labeled “fruits
for salad.” I kept that can unopened for two years but carefully
and regularly checked my cupboard to reassure myself that it was
still there. Whenever friends would announce that they had just
that very day found a banana or they had grabbed a can of pears
“a day before the points went up,” I would take out
my precious can, fondle its rounded shape and once more dream
of the day when we would decide to open it and enjoy each delicious
fruit.
Finally, after two years of rationing we simply
couldn't wait any longer. One day we grabbed the can, beheaded
it with one swish of the can opener and gobbled up the contents
in less time than it takes to tell. I don't
think any fruit, before or since, has ever tasted so good!
Rationing Ends; Ration Books
Live On
But one way or another we survived and I know of no
one who starved under rationing. We each made do with a little
less. Most of us learned to like foods we had always avoided.
And nearly all of us came to appreciate each food in its season
if only for availability and not necessarily for taste!
When I think of the tender and loving care we gave
to all the tokens that came our way during the war, it makes my
heart ache to learn one story of their final fate. I read that
thousands and thousands of pounds of these once-treasured trade
pieces had been sold for a fraction of a cent per pound. The purpose?
They were to be ground up and would eventually become the filling
for stuffed toys, cushions or play equipment.
Another story concerning the disposition of these
red and blue tokens, however, leads me to believe that they were
sold through UNRRA to the Greek government to use for rationing
in Greece. Somehow I like this story better. The tokens and coupons
were such a huge part of our lives that I would rather believe
they lived on somewhere else.
