蜜芽传媒

One night during the London Blitz of 1940, my parents and I, together with many others, were in the basement of a five storey building in the East End of London during a very heavy air raid. The noise of exploding bombs and anti-aircraft fire was tremendous. Having been in the shelter for some hours the air was very stale, being only twelve years old, defiant of Hitler鈥檚 bombs and too young (or stupid) to be afraid, I surreptitiously made my way upstairs to the street for a few breaths of fresh air. The scene that met my eyes is forever etched in my memory.
Clouds of billowing smoke stood out against the background of a fiery red sky and an indeterminate number of searchlights probing the heavens in all directions, fire engines were dashing along the road, bells clanging. There was a cacophony of constant anti-aircraft fire, exploding bombs, the clunk, clunk of falling shrapnel and the uneven drone of German bombers overhead. Pervading the whole scene was the smell of smoke from burning buildings. After several minutes a man came running to the shelter, I followed him downstairs. He went over to a lady and her two teenaged daughters and told them that their house was gone. I never realized it then, but their controlled emotion was so typical of the British stiff upper lip.
Approximately four years later, in 1944, sitting in class during a chemistry lesson, our Master was explaining and chalking on the wallboard quite a complicated formula. Suddenly, there was an almighty thump followed by the huge roar of an explosion. The Master鈥檚 hand froze on the board, we boys sat there and looked at each other with raised eyebrows while the building shook to it鈥檚 very foundations. After a moment or two it became apparent that the building was not coming down on our heads, our Master carried on writing and we looked at each other as if to say 鈥淲ow!鈥�
A V2 had come down nearby, our Master displayed the typical, no panic, British stiff upper lip鈥︹�︹�漈HERE鈥橪L ALWAYS BE AN ENGLAND.鈥�
Harold Harris - London and California

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