Evening star., 1940-12-18
Third OF Series on the London
Blitskrieg)
BY MILO NJ. THOMPSON,


Blitskrieg.)
By MILO NJ. THOMPSON,
Associated Press Stan Writer.
NEW YORK, Dec 18.-The pres
ent and eternity are no further
apart in London than snap OF the
fingers.
Nevertheless, narrow escapes are
only something to be discussed lazlly
with the walnuts and the wine, not
such a shuddering horror as most
Americans suppose.
Only the bores bother you with
stories of their own private and par
ticular bombs. now that most of us
have had our own bomb experience.
A bombing becomes interesting only
when there is some definite freak.
And some narrow escapes which
have an element OF the superna-
tural and unexplainable about them
also are worth mentioning.
Some Notable Examples.
For instance:
There's one manager of an Amer
lean company in London who rose
up from bed in the dead Of night,
shook his wife and cried: 1--WE must
get out of here!"
He dragged the poor protesting
woman through the door and down
the corridor she Supposing all the
time that he was the victim of a
nightmare. At the corridors turn
ing he threw her down and threw
himself across her protectively.
There came terrific explosion.
His body became inert.
She felt LIQUID and supposed the
explosion had burst pipe. Sud-
denly she realized it was his blood
and struggled out, screaming. She
dragged him to the street and help
came. He was rushed to a hospital
where they attended to a slashed
artery and saved him from bleeding
to death. Up to my departure. they
were still taking bits of glass out of
his body.
Bedroom Demolished.
He is quite conscious, however, and
recovering. But he cannot explain
what happened. He heard no sound.
He says he aWoke with a suffocating
feeling and the urge to get away.
That was all.
The bomb demolished their bed
room.
I know of another case in which
a dog suddenly. in what seemed
silence. began barking and pulling
his master out of room. A few
moments later. the room was
wrecked. The master was safe.
One accepts these things as a gift
from Providence.
My own case is one in point. MY
wife and I, with Hugh Wagnon and
Joe WurZel of the Associated Press
were returning to the heart of the
city from bit of suburban business.
We were in an A. P. car with our
own driver. Unable to reach our
destination before dark, we had been
caught in the blitz.
Gunflre was loud and rapid.
Shells were bursting overhead.
Naturally the driver was stepping
on it" to get the trip over.
Beating the Traffic Light.
At an intersection ahead of us,
the green light winked out as
we approached. The intermediate
orange came on. 1t was a toss-up
whether to race to beat the red or
stop on it. The driver elected to go
through. He doesn't know why.
A block away the red light caught
us and. as we slowed to stop, two
screaming bombs came down with
that swelling effect which says I'm
coming right at you"
My wife slid off the seat and
buried her face in the cushion.
I scrunched in the corner to get
away from the window glass.
The men in the jumpseats ducked.
Whang and crash followed.
One of the bombs took away
three-quarters of the roadway at the
very spot where we should have
been waiting for the light to change.
What does one do? One tries to
quiet the racing blood, ease the mo-
mentarily upset stomach and tease
the heart back from the throat.
Then one rushes on.
We tell ourselves that a direct hit
IS million to one chance, and recall
that bombs can come amazingly
close without destroying you. M.
WurZel and his wife were in the little
brick shelter in their garden when a