BURNING OF LONDON

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 3, Issue 286, 24 March 1941, Page 5

BURNING OF LONDON

THE RUINED CITY

ACRES OF WILDERNESS

Seventy-five acres of the City of London were laid waste in ruins as a result of ihe Nazi fire raids on December 29. Gaunt shells of buildings stand roofless and windowless in a large portion of that area, mere skeletons of the famous, business "houses whose trade is world famous. The narrow, winding and twisting streets of the city, in many cases, are just piles of bricks and masonry. The pacemcnls and roahvays lie buried, and those who Avalk along them now have to pick their way carefully as though clambering over a boulder-strewn seashore. Everywhere are fallen, tumbleddown buildings. Everywhere in this area is a wilderness of bricks and twisted iron and steel girders. Of office furniture—desks, chairs, safes books and other paraphernalia of routine —-th ere is not a sign. The fire did its work thoroughly. It licked the buildings clean, and ate out their hearts. "I thought ! hey were exaggerating. I don't believe it. But I'm afraid they Avere right," said a lonely Londoner as he surveyed the ruin of his office. As he gazed doAvn the shambles of the street he pointed to premises which stared back at him with sightless eyes of AvindoAVS. "We used to hold our annual dinners there," he mused. "Don't suppose \A r e'll do that 3gain for a Avhile," Wreck of the Guildhall. It is a natural 'and irresistible thought for those avlio see tfye desolation —hoAv long Avill it take to rebuild? Thousands of tons of masonry must be removed. The streets' and the ground that have knoAvn buildings for centuries must be stripped naked before the Avork of reconstruction can begin, before a neAv City of London can rise,—for a second time—on the ruins of the old.

The saddest sight of all for those AAdio react to the sentimental surge of tradition is the Guildhall. Once again, after nearly three hundred years, it stands roofless, open to the sky. The charred and blackened beams of its Avooden roof lie on its floor—like half-burnt bush. Iron girders are twisted round the shapeless wreckage.

After seeing the desolation of the city it, seems little short of a miracle that St. Paul's Cathedral was unharmed by the fire. Buildings on three sides are gutted, and St, Paul, on his lofty pedestal, stares at a row of fired premises which stand on the lip of the destroyed area. His presence might be taken to represent an exhoitation to the flames to come no nearer the, cathedral — and to the people of London to rebuild their ruined city. Old-time Champion. Cargo offering between Blenheim and Wellington in recent weeks has increased considerably, and for the first time in many years there are two coastal vessels engaged in this service at the some time, the regular scow Echo and the steamer Wairau, which, as the schooner Ronga, was the fastest coaster in New Zealand waters in the early 1900's. In September, 1900, the year of her launching, she made a record passage between Wellington and Lyttelton, of 18 hours, very fast time for a sailing vessel, but in April, 190f>, she capsized in a gale near Kaikoura the master and crew of seven losing their lives.