The following is commentary on Episode No. 7 ("The War Office Regrets") from members of AFAMILYATWAR-LIST. If you wish to add your thoughts to what is being said on this page, become a part of our discussion group by clicking the "Join" button.

 

 


 

 

Richard Veit

“The War Office Regrets” produces some of the most intense drama of the series. It is Harry Porter who receives the dreaded telegram alluded to in the episode title, informing him that his son is “missing, believed killed.” As Harry struggles to cope with the shattering news, his spirits ebb, and he even resorts to the contemplation of suicide. When, in dire hopelessness, he takes his service revolver from the drawer, the suspense becomes unbearable. Patrick Troughton’s acting is superb throughout, but nowhere more so than during the brief scene when his character reveals to a sympathetic police officer the cause of his despair. His reddened, glassy eyes seem to say it all. Earlier, we witnessed his despondency when poor Harry’s plea to his wife (“Can’t we help each other?”) is brushed aside by her disparaging comment, “When did you ever need any help from me?”

Besides the aforementioned police officer, another minor character whom I find to be quite true-to-life in this episode is the likable NAAFI delivery man, Bob O’Connell. His shy personality is engaging, and we feel for him when he awkwardly makes a “play” for the affections of Sheila Ashton. The warm friendship between these two lonely human beings is interrupted by the sudden arrival of Sheila’s husband, who jumps to conclusions and behaves rudely toward the delivery man. Then, when the couple is alone, he begins spouting allegations of impropriety. This is truly splendid writing, resonating with irony, for the viewer by now is keenly aware of David’s indulgent liaison with Peggy Drake.

What can be stated with any certainty about Margaret’s support of the war effort? In her emotional outburst against Sefton, she seems decidedly resentful of her uncle’s lukewarm, defeatist stance. And yet, it may be that her attitude is simply a response to what she perceives to be his superficial, mercenary involvement. She wonders how her uncle can be so selfishly cavalier about the war when she must endure the personal torment of having a husband in mortal danger.

In “The War Office Regrets,” we again glimpse one of the Ashton women at the piano. In this instance, it is Freda playing a piece by Chopin. Previously, Margaret has tried her hand at the keyboard, and, in a later episode, Jean will do the same. It is evident that all three of these actresses (Barbara Flynn, Lesley Nunnerley, and Shelagh Fraser) had at least a passing acquaintance with the piano. This fortuitous circumstance works to good advantage. On more than one occasion, conversations around that slightly out-of-tune upright provide some insight into the principal characters’ thoughts. Of course, it is not at all unusual for artistic people, such as actors, to be musical. With that in mind, I would be curious to know who among the cast of “A Family at War” was generally regarded to be the most accomplished musician.

 


 

Paul Cook

Celia
The lasting impression for me from episodes 6 and 7, “The Breach in the Dyke” and “The War Office Regrets” is watching the tragedy of Celia’s life unfold. I feel really irritated by her in episode 6, but do have some empathy with her throughout episode 7.
 
It is interesting how Margaret is less able to hide her feelings towards Celia as time goes on, and is it any wonder? It is as if Margaret does not exist as a person in her own right. As she complains to Edwin, (her Dad), Margaret feels as if she is being treated by Celia as a prize heifer, a “breeding cow”. Margaret really does have the patience of a saint.  The nature of this  relationship is in stark contrast to the closeness that Sheila has with the father-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship. Sheila always refers to Edwin as “Dad”.  Celia, however, sees Margaret as “John’s wife, with John’s child”, certainly not as a daughter. No wonder Margaret starts to rebel. Also how much a strain for poor old Harry, who tries so hard to help Celia try and get things into perspective, and try and think positively, however desperate he himself is feeling.
 
We see a glimpse of the Celia being less selfish when she goes and visits Jean. There is one poignant moment, where Jean is fighting hard to keep her anger under wraps in their conversation about the war and their children. At this point Celia does admit to feeling ashamed, when she is able to consider, even for just a fleeting moment, that others have equal, if not more, to worry about. Sadly, this is the only time we feel her stepping outside of herself. That one line is so important in giving that added pathos to her situation. 
 
I have an awful sense of Celia slowly disintegrating throughout the passage of episode 7. It is painful to see how her world is falling apart. She becomes increasingly more wretched and miserable. Increasingly lost, she retreats further and further into herself, to the point where it is as if she does not exist at all. We no longer see any visual shots of her, only her desperate cries for Harry from their bedroom.
 
 
Sheila
It is also interesting to see how the personality of Sheila is flourishing. She no longer seems the unassertive and timid character that we see in episode 1, but very up front, and able to cope with all that is thrown at her. I like the way that this episode highlights a very important difference between her and David. In episode 7, the interactions with Mr. O’Connell, show how she has a strong sense of boundary with relationships, in such a stark contrast to David, who has no sense of boundary at all. This makes Sheila come over as mature in how she deals with Mr. O’Connell, stressing firmly, but kindly, that they can only be friends.
 
Of course, this throws up the dilemma as to whether friendships between sexes can survive just as friendships, without sex popping up into the equation. Platonic relationships between man and woman seem to have the potential for  throwing up more complications than man/man and woman/woman friendships. As we see later in the episode, David reacts badly to seeing Sheila with Mr. O’Connell. Doesn’t your jaw just drop when you hear David say to Sheila in a pained voice, “You don’t trust me do you Sheila!’ It just goes to show how David can keep parts of his life compartmentalised, so that he can conveniently avoid confronting his weaknesses and failings.

 
 
The Media
Just a brief thought here, that we are so used to 24/7 coverage of news in our modern world, that it is easy to forget how difficult it must have been with just not knowing what was going on at that time. With only newspapers and the radio, communications were of course delayed. The picture of Celia buying all the newspapers, with contradicting reports on the progress of the BEF, shows how frustrating, and anxiety provoking it must have been.