UNDER RAIDS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 228, 25 September 1940, Page 6

UNDER RAIDS.

ENGLAND'S SPIRIT.

"HITLER PAYS A VISIT. ,,

. . . AND DAD GETS THE TEA.

This story should really start off: "Dear Mr. Hitler . . . ." ! That gentleman, more than anyone else in the world, will want to know what it contains . . . and it will not be pleasant reading , for him. It tells how an ordinary- British family, Mum, Dad, elder daughter, Irene, and the youngsters are standing up to his "airblitz." It is a letter which has arrived in Auckland from Bristol, on the English Channel, and was begun on July 26, 1940. It is a letter written by Irene to relatives in Xew Zealand while air raids af» in progress over her home on eucceseite nighte.

Bristol Is " Taking It." . Mr. G. Ward Price has told us in an air-mail dispatch what Bristol has been suffering. " Bristol is one of the most important and exposed of our great provincial cities. For a year it has shared the hardships of war. For three months it has been the target of almost daily bombing attacks. Since the Germans conquered France and were able to set up air bases on her territory, Bristol has known few days without an air raid." So you see that this is a letter from a place that has been " taking it." And how has it been taking it? Iβ it downhearted, bewildered, terrified and defeatist? Here's what Irene, has. to say about it: — " Well, it is now ten past twelve, and we have juet been turned out of bed by our bad friend Mr. Hitler; although we mustn't grumble, because he left us alone the last two nights, and of course he has to pay us a visit sometime. These nights we always go to bed with th? feeling that we shall be down again soon; and, sure enough, we aren't far wrong. Some nights he conies for a short time and other night* he stays for a few hours. "It's a scream in our house—(meaning no joke, Mr. Hitler, in case you don't know your English idiom). We haven't an air raid shelter, so we stay home when the sirens go. You should hear them! —first of all an up-and-down moan, then the ' all clear'—a long blast. I can tell you that we always welcome this one- so that we can all charge up the stairs into bed. " What we do is to come down into the kitchen and do our knitting and sewing and, I can tell you, it has progressed fine. You can do quite a lot in one air raid. .If we do hear any banging we go into ' our bus. . Oh! we have a lovely bus. It is in our passage, where Blanche .keeps her bicycle. Muni has had it -cleared out and boarded round and has put comfortable seats in it, so we have named it 'our bus , instead of the cupboard under the stairs. " The very first night was the worst. I shall never forget it. The damage was very near us, and I can tell you we thought our house was coming in. But we are still alive and kicking and we have a lot to thank the Lord for." From there Irene's letter becomes a chatty chronicle of family happenings— holidays, a new baby relative and the like .*. until, "Well* the 'all clear' is sounding, 1.30 a.m., so I will close now uutil next time. It may be soon or later. He comes in relays some nights; then we are in and out of bed like jacks-in-the-box."

"He Has Just Called." The letter continues: — "Eleven o'clock next night. Well, we weren't had up again last night, and we have been left alone all day, but he has just called. Being Friday we had been busy and I was just ending up the day by 'having 'my annual' " (a bath. Mr. Hitler) "and I had just finished and wae about to go up to bed when we heard gunfire and *'ien the jolly old sirens started. I simply dressed once more and started to continue my correspondence."

More about the holiday and family affairs, and then . . . "There is one thing about these raids, we always have an early cup of tea; you know, between one and two. We count it ae Pop's job to get the teapot ready after the sirens start, end though we are rationed with 2oz of tea per person, we still carry on.

"Every now and again when we hear a plane about we liave trouble with father. He likes to have a peep through the keyhole, but if he gets the chance he pokes his noee right out, and then he calls to our neighbour's son to conic and have a look at the stars. After a eeriee of 'Come in, Dad,' from our kitchen, father eventually comes back."

Back again to cheery family chatter and the note "We have some New Zealand soldiers here in Bristol, and it brings back memories of when Bill was here with us, only, of eounee. under happier circumstances. . . . Well, it is now 1.30 a.m. and we are etill waiting patiently for the 'all clear,' but it seems to be a long time coming. "Daisy is having a game of draughts with Gilbert, our neighbour's eon, so you can just guess what a noise is going on, especially when they take each other's mt... I had a few game*, but I am not much good at games at night. I'm more for my sewing. It doesn't need auy brain work. .. .

"Still, We are British. . . " "We are nearly asleep, as to-night vc have not been to bed yet. Oh. They must have heard what I said. The sirens have just sounded, and it is now two o'clock. I can tell you we give them a real welcome. So now we are just going off to bed hoping to get a few hours' rest." Again a break, and then. . . . '"This ie now the early morning of Monday—one o'clock. We were up for three hours last night, but I was too ■tired to do a thing. I just put my head on the table and tried to get forty "winks. But here we are once again. Every night about twelve we get a call; so here we are having our usual few hours downstairs with the planes hovering overhead. I can assure you it isn't very pleasant, but etiil, we are British, and keep our chins up. "You can see what we are going through, but we don't mind as long as no bombs drop too near. . . . Father is just about to do his nightly job, so I'm reallv going to close, and then for a cup of tea. Cheerio . . . and all the best."

But that last remark was addressed to Xew Zealand. Irene didn't include the unwelcome v"*itoi; Mr. Hitler, in that.