Document  #1  

 

 

Due to the destruction of their homes, many British citizens lived in the subway system underground during the Blitz of Britain. The subway provided them with the most shelter. In the picture on the bottom, a young woman plays a gramophone (think like a record player) while sitting in an air raid shelter.

Document  #2  

   

 

Even though Britain was being bombed on a daily basis, Brits still went to work each day. As they walked through the streets they saw the destruction of the homes and businesses in their respective towns. Yet, they never stopped going to work during this time period.

Document  #3  

 

 

Both of these images show the effects of the Blitz on the families. In the top image, people return to their demolished homes for their cherished possessions that were not lost and destroyed. In the bottom image, three children (possibly now orphans) sit in front of their damaged home.

Document  #4  

 

 

The Blitz decimated the city. Every place was a target for the German bombing. In the image on the bottom, that building was once the House of Commons which is the lowest branch in the British Parliament (legislative government)

Document  #5  

 

 

In the top image, that is St. Peter’s Basilica in London which stayed standing throughout the entirety of the Blitz, standing tall with the smoke from the other buildings being bombed surrounding it. The bottom image was Winston Churchill who was the British Prime Minister during World War II.

These  cruel,  wanton,  indiscriminate  bombings  of  London  are,  of  course,  a  part  of  Hitler’s  invasion  plans.  He  hopes,  by  killing  large  numbers  of  civilians,  and  women  and  children,  that  he  will  terrorize  and  cow  the  people  of  this  mighty  imperial  city  .  .  .  Little  does  he  know  the  spirit  of  the  British  nation,  or  the  tough  fiber  of  the  Londoners.    

-­‐ Winston  Churchill  

  A Childhood in London: John Dawkins I  was  four  years  old  at  the  outbreak  of  World  War  2.  I  have  no  story  to  tell,  just  a  collection  of  disjointed  memories.  I  am  now  68  years  young,  but  these  few  strangely  treasured  memories  are  impossible  to  forget;  just  like  my  National  service  number.  My  earliest  recollection  is  being  in  Great  Ormond  Street  Children’s  Hospital  in  war  torn  London  at  the  height  of  the  German  ‘Blitzkrieg’,  or  the  ‘Blitz’  as  we  came  to  know  it.  London  was  literally  on  fire  and  the  air  raid  sirens  would  sound  frequently  with  each  wave  of  enemy  bombers  dropping  their  deadly  load  upon  the  inhabitants.  As  children  of  such  a  tender  age  we  were  largely  ignorant  of  any  danger  and  knew  little  fear.  We  were  frequently  wheeled  down  to  the  basement  when  the  bombs  started  dropping  closer.  I  recall  the  day  when  my  mother  came  to  take  me  home.  There  was  no  hospital  transport  available,  but  they  lent  us  a  red  blanket  for  my  mother  to  carry  me  in.  In  the  street  fires  were  burning  and  there  was  rubble  everywhere.  We  hadn’t  gone  far  when  yet  another  siren  sounded,  announcing  yet  more  bombs  on  the  way.  Somebody  shouted  at  my  mother  to  get  into  the  shelter,  which  I  now  believe  was  an  underground  station.  I  have  no  idea  how  we  got  home.  I  probably  slept  through  the  noise!  Underground  stations  were  used  to  accommodate  ‘bombed  out’  people  who  had  lost  their  homes.  I  saw  long  lines  of  bunks  along  the  station  where  they  lived  and  slept.  The  windows  of  the  trains  and  buses  were  covered  in  sticky  tape  in  case  they  shattered.  There  were  posters  urging  the  population  to  ‘Dig  for  victory’.  Parks  and  lawns  were  ploughed  up  to  plant  potato  and  other  crops.  Food  was  very  short.  Other  posters  warned  about  giving  out  any  information,  as  spies  or  enemy  agents  could  be  listening  at  any  time,  any  place.  ‘Careless  talk  costs  lives’  one  poster  read.  ‘Walls  have  ears’  and  I  remember  another  poster  with  picture  of  a  ‘Butterfly  bomb’  which  looked  like  a  toy  and  came  down  by  parachute.  Any  child  picking  it  up  would  have  an  arm  blown  off!  It  was  like  a  land  mine  apparently.  We  lived  at  Potters  Bar  at  the  time,  which  is  now  a  part  of  north  London.  My  father  was  not  at  home  very  much.  He  was  an  electronic  expert  and  not  in  the  military.  He  was  called  away  on  a  reserved  occupation,  but  my  mother  told  me  later  that  he  was  unable  to  talk  about  it.  The  house  was  nearly  always  filled  with  strangers  coming  and  going,  especially  if  near  neighbors  were  ‘bombed  out’.  My  father  had  built  an  Anderson  shelter  in  our  garden,  but  if  there  was  a  sudden  air  raid  there  was  not  always  time  to  get  to  it.  On  one  such  occasion  there  was  a  crowd  of  us  indoors.  I  was  thrilled  because  my  Uncle  Lester  was  on  leave  from  the  R.A.F  and  Uncle  George  who  fought  Rommel  as  a  ‘Desert  Rat’  and  also  on  leave.  My  cousin  Kenny  was  living  with  us  and  being  two  or  three  years  older  than  me  was  a  bit  of  a  wag.  I  can  remember  the  laughter  and  good  spirits.  My  Aunty  Molly  was  cooking  a  meal  for  everybody  and  was  just  about  to  dish  up  when  the  siren  went  —  another  air  raid!  “That  bloody  Hitler”  she  exclaimed  and  was  promptly  rebuked  by  my  Uncle  for  swearing  in  front  of  the  children.  For  years  afterwards  I  thought  that  ‘Hitler’  was  the  swear  word!  At  this  moment  Kenny,  in  mock  terror  grabbed  my  Aunt  Peggy’s  sewing  machine  cover  and  put  it  over  his  head  and  immediately  got  his  ears  stuck.  Our  laughter  increased  at  his  antics  but  quickly  subsided  when  the  bombs  started  to  drop.  Three  houses  two  streets  away  were  demolished  we  discovered  next  morning.  All  the  families  were  killed.