Evening star., 1941-01-12
By EDWARD ROBINSON.

By EDWARD ROBINSON.
LONDON.-I shut the radio of.
I can't hear it anyhow. The anti
aircraft battery nearby is firing
every minute or so, and there is the
steady drome of German planes
overhead.
I sit for a minute smoking my
pipe. The wh-u-u-u-sh of a bomb
falling, heavy bomb, sends me div
ing into our shelter in the dining
room. My wife is already there.
The house shakes. We hear the
cracking of timbers, breaking be-
fore the explosion. I count zone,
two, three, four, five, six" waiting
for the next one. 1t doesn't come
I run into the hall, grab my tin hat
and go out into the street.
Another warden, shadowy figure
in the blackout, dashes by.
This way, I think" he pants.
We run through the blackness
together.
Confused Sound of Voices.
Around the corner we find a two
story house on fire, the flames just
starting to gain a real foothold.
someone is screaming steadily. There
is confused sound of voices. Above
these and the crackle of flames, the
slam of guns and the drone of the
German bomberS continue.
Order and efficiency come into
this welter of pain and confusion
on the heels of the ambulance squad.
Moving as though they were at
drill, the stretcher bearers break out
their stretchers. The doctor moves
among the dead and wounded. The
smell of antiseptics bites through
the air fetid with smoke and cordite
and the musty scent of blood.
The fire truck, a converted taxi,
rolls up. We all drop fat as another
bomb comes screaming to earth. Bits
of brick, earth, wood and glass fall
about us soon after the explosion.
A man grunts his surprise, then
Swears softly with pain. We get up,
and the firemen start to play their
hoses on the fire. It's heat hits us,
and the flame dazzles our eyes.
Dozens of Bombs Fall.
I cut across the park on my way
home. Suddenly dozens Of in
cendiary bombs start to fall in the
park. I beat one out with my he'll
met, kick dirt on two more. Then
there is a burst of light. The fire
bombs have set fire to a row OF
working class houses fronting on
the park.
Men, women and children, many
of them in their night clothes. are
trying to beat out the flames. Some
have stirrup pumps, most Of them
are using rugs, coats, earth.
From somewhere comes great
shout "duck!" I fall fiat. There is
the crunching noise, horribly fami-
liar, then a great wind of sound and
the sensation of a binding light and
fire. 1t is exactly as if some one
had thrown open the door Of a
tremendous blast furnace.
The hrefighters are showered with
debris. Some of them, women and
children among them, lie in strange
twisted heaps. These are the dead
The screaming of the wounded
starts again.
Four Houses Wrecked.
A warden hollers, ED, call the
ambulance. Harry, go for the fire
men, second turning left about 300
yards up. Run like hell"
We move toward the buildings
still burning fiercely-the bomb has
wrecked four houses in the row.
The same voice continues, STEADY
now. The inner wall looks like the
only thing holding out. 1t won't
hold for long. I don't think those
people in the bombed houses had
any shelter but the cellar. We got
to get those bricks and debris of
them. But watch that wall"
His voice is full and cheerful.
A group of people straggle past
They have lost their homes, some
of them have lost mothers, fathers,
husbands, wives, sons and daughters
in a split second.
We start to remove the wreckage
Some one calls from one corner
Here's some one" Then a pause.
Then he mumbleS, Don't trouble,