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Excitement And Adventure Of London Black-out

This vivid description of London’s black-out is given in The Sydney Morning Herald, by an Australian girl, a graduate in arts, who has been in London for some years. There is a story going the rounds in London to the effect that a man was asked whether he would, as usual, take a ticket in the office Christmas sweepstake, and, as an inducement, he was informed that the second prize was a motor-car, and the third, a radio set. “And the first?” he asked. “Oh,” he was told, “that is a torch battery!” If you lived in London now, you would see the point of that story. The halo has slipped somewhat, and is now associated with feet, not heads. The darkness is lit by small moving pools of light which flick on and off in a desperate effort to reserve the battery for future necessity. No one can get a battery for love or money—unless, < * course, he is prepared to buy a whole new torch every time. Unless some battery manufacturer comes to the rescue, and floods the market again, we will all have a fine collection of “empties” at the end of the war. There is one thing to be thankful for, and that is the moon, so that for at least two weeks in every four one need not bump into every passer-by nor apologize to sandbags. It is really rather funny when you think of it collectively that all Europe is stumbling about in the dark tripping over kerbs that are not there, and barking shins on those that are. STYGIAN DARKNESS You would scarcely believe how dark it can be. I have known darkness in the country, but, then, if there are houses, there are friendly lights from windows, and, if there are none, you can carry a bright lantern, and, somehow, the darkness seems infinitely gentler. But here in London, since Hitler put out the light, moonless nights are wells of Stygian darkness, and one can literally see not a pace ahead. At times it is not possible to see even the line of housetops along the sky, and when I draw my curtains (after putting out my light, and knocking over a table or two en route), before getting into bed, I cannot see, any more than if I were blind, at which end of the room is my window. After about half an hour, when my eyes have grown used to the situation, a vague and uncertain square does give some indication of the presence of a window. “Black-out journey” is really an exciting adventure, if you have the leisure to think about it, and are not merely accepting it as the shortest line between two given points.

STAIRS ARE TRICKY Having stepped gingerly outside, and shut the door, you are confronted by a complete void. Having forgotten, as usual, whether there are two steps down, or three, you slide your foot forward, with your toes curling inside your shoes, only to find that the step is too wide for one stride, because you stood too far back at the beginning. So, you draw the exploring foot back again, take one step forward, and begin again, coming to the edge of the step so suddenly that you nearly fall over it. Down that one, and the same cautious exploration for the edge of the next; down another, and you are on the pavement. Turn left; it’s a hundred yards along to the bus stop, with one ctreet to cross. So you step out confidently. “I beg you pardon, sir—madam, I mean. Gosh! It’s a letter-box! “Well, how in the name of fortune did I get so far over to this side of the pavement? “Here’s a car coming—better walk quickly to take advantage of the bit of pavement I can see by its lights. Pity the driver wasn’t travelling more slowly. Better stop walking altogether for a moment and think things out. If I veer slowly to the left I must hit the area railing eventually, and, if I feel my way along those, they must end t metime.

“Now my eyes are getting used to the light; I can see dimly that -m object of some sort is approaching me—or, am I approaching it? Anyway, if ’ keep well to the left, I should avoid . . .” (Here the narrator tripped down a car entrance that she didn’t know was there, and dropped her book Having found the book, after a search made by patting the pavement all round and sweeping tip various empty matchboxes and bus tickets, she resumed her journey, clutching her hat carefully, having just realized what would happen if it blew off.) Well, you see the general idea of it.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ST19400420.2.100.6

Bibliographic details

Southland Times, Issue 24106, 20 April 1940, Page 12

Word Count
796

Excitement And Adventure Of London Black-out Southland Times, Issue 24106, 20 April 1940, Page 12

Excitement And Adventure Of London Black-out Southland Times, Issue 24106, 20 April 1940, Page 12

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