Yankees

On the New England coast, volunteer plane spotters watch for German bombers from the sundecks of clapboard houses, in an image which sums up how the pulse of tradition still beats at the heart of this historic region, even in times of war. The centrepiece of the film takes a tour of the small town of Exeter in Rockingham County, New Hampshire, where the elderly lawyer, brass band, and tiny police force symbolise traditions which are the antithesis of Nazi fanaticism.

From the well-connected families in the plush drawing rooms of Beacon Hill in Boston, to the industrious workers in Wise’s shoe factory, the New England portrayed in this issue is of a stable, well-ordered society, with a 300 year tradition of freedom and independence founded in the early days of the nation. The more cynical viewer might say that the geriatric police force, exclusive country clubs and crusty anecdotes about New England codgers of yesteryear show that three centuries of proud independence seem to have curdled into a routine of small-town conservatism, to the extent that the rush of activity kindled by the war - busy shipyards, queues for war bonds, soldiers training - comes almost as a relief.