My dear departed Mum used to tell a tale of when rationing was on and the local shop got some banana's in.
There was a large bungalow at the top of their street, at the end of the terraced houses, who thought themselves a cut above the local populace.
Everyone was in a queue at the shop to get their banana ration, when in walks madam from the bungalow and heads straight to the front.
"I'm the lady from the bungalow, can i have my bananas now?"
Replies the shopkeeper; "Ah dunt care if tha's an angel from hevven, tha can get thissen t'back and queue like every bugger else"
Mum also told how later on in the war, Mr Bungalow was paid a visit by the law and found to have a cupboard full of illicit tinned goods acquired through black marketeering.