Sleeps While Guns Booth, Bombs Whine

Northern Advocate, 13 January 1941, Page 2

Sleeps While Guns Booth, Bombs Whine

Courage with a capital “C” is spelt in this letter from an Englishwoman to friends in America, reprinted In the “New York Times”:

My husband comes in each evening looking a little tired. He loves old London so, and it hurts him to see the Germans wantonly smashing buildings that were as harmless as they were beautiful or old and part of London’s history. At night we go to bed as usual, gunfire punctuating the seconds. We hear the triple engine of the bomber and we know that the ballistics of the shell do not hold here, because the bomb travels so much slower that its sound may well reach the person it is going to hit. As it whistles down one’s ear and mind follow its growing swishing whistle and wonders.

The house rocks (one thinks “is the tool shed- hit?”) and then the vibrations still reaching us through the soles of our feet or the four legs of the bed reassure us that one is still alive . . .

but some poor family in the next lane may not be.

Fire Look Out

One looks out to see if there is fire so as to run and help if need be. All is pitch black as the heart who willed to kill or frighten women and children. But he doesn’t know English women or children . . . And what does he know of family life? Or honest courage? Sometimes when the bomb is very very near we do not move or speak until the next one falls a few seconds later ... it will either be nearer or farther away ... We then call out: “That was a close one!” and roll over to sleep, despite the gun racket which is reassuring rather than disturbing. On cold wet nights I always think with more gratitude of the brave rnen and women . . . boys and girls on duty in the open. They make us sure of victory and continued freedom.