From Here to There and Back Again

The complete subjugation of France and the Low Countries by Hitler's war-machine, a campaign tagged "The Lightning War" by historians, took only six weeks. That Britain would be next on Germany's unblemished record of military conquests, was viewed as inevitable in all of the world's capitals, including our own.

With the fall of France, citizen and congressional debate over America's continued neutrality, increased in intensity. Opinion was unfortunately influenced in part by America's Ambassador to England, Joseph P. Kennedy, father of our 35th President. Kennedy made no secret of his belief that Germany was invincible, and that the British should sue for peace before their country was invaded and reduced to rubble, with enormous civilian casualties.

Having seen in print some of his public utterances during his tenure in London, I must confess that I'm hard pressed to understand why President Roosevelt chose a rather obvious anglophobe to serve in such an important diplomatic post, at one of the most critical periods in British and American history.

Be that as it may, as one who was in London at the time, I don't recall any visible manifestations of panic or defeatism, perhaps due to something everyone remembered from their childhood history lessons, that there had not been a successful military invasion of Britain since the Norman Conquest, in the year 1066!

Spirits were also given a lift by a persistent rumor circulated as a fact, that "the old man" (Churchill), carried a six-shot revolver and had vowed that if England was invaded, he'd shoot five "Jerries" before taking his own life, to avoid capture.

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If the bomb made it all the way to London, its flight was terminated by two simultaneous robotic activations. A tiny guillotine cut the fuel-line, and the elevator and spoiler-flap controls were forced down, a combination of events guaranteed to send it into the ground, where its explosive cargo detonated.

It didn't take long for everyone to figure out that there was a time lapse, between the moment we heard the fuel-starved engine cut, and the resultant explosion. I'm convinced that no matter where we civilians were, when we heard a buzz-bomb speeding in our direction, we'd all begin to silently mouth the same word, "go! go! go!" as if we could somehow "will" this infernal- machine to fly a few extra yards further before its engine quit.

I've always thought how lucky I was to have lived in North London at that terrible time, compared to those living and working south of the Thames, an area which became known as "buzz-bomb alley," where most of the carnage and destruction occurred. However, two incidents I'll never forget, did come very close to home.

One night in bed, I heard that sound I'd learned to hate, getting closer and closer, seemingly at roof-top level. No doubt in concert with all of the neighbors, I began my "go! go!" mantra, and just as the bomb rumbled over my house, the engine quit.

I remember in those split seconds before the huge explosion which followed, hearing my sisters in the next room hit the floor, as they sought cover under their bed, an option I didn't have as an occupant of a sofa-bed. In the morning, we learned that the bomb had landed four blocks away on Granville Road, narrowly missing St. Aidans Church and School, where Peg received her education.

A few days later, about a mile from home returning from work on my bike, I heard an approaching bomb. The street I was on was residential except for several blocks, where it was bounded on one side by Finsbury Park, and on the other by railway tracks. That's where I was when I looked up, and saw this ugly black object with its "tail on fire," heading in my direction.

As the engine went silent, I recall dropping my bike and throwing myself face-down into the gutter, seconds before the bomb ploughed into the park and exploded, showering me with chunks of turf which left me dirty, but without injury. I was lucky! Had the bomb landed on the macadam road instead of the park, the debris which rained down on me, would certainly have been lethal. I walked my bike the rest of the way home, too shaken to ride!