One London Night

by Denise A. Agnew

  He’d poured his feeling into the words, and he’d meant every word.

  She shifted closer to the edge, and his heart jammed straight up into his throat. “Sally.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t step off right now,” she said.

  Please, God. Give me the right words.

  “Because we all need you. The AFS and all the people out there being bombed every night. They need you. Your husband wouldn’t want you to do this. He’d want you to live.”

  She groaned and put her head down. Her whole body looked as if it was shaking. With one slow step and another, he made his way across the roof. He felt like the whole world held its breath.

  The drone of air raid sirens started, their dreadful tune rolling over twenty miles. He shivered in the cool breeze.

  “The bombers are coming. We need to go downstairs and prepare to help people,” he said.

  She turned toward him. “What’s the use really? Many of them will die, and we can’t do a thing about it. Why try?”

  He wanted to scream at her. “Because it is the right thing to do. Because if I was buried in some damaged building, I’d want someone to come after me. The people of London need us, no how matter how much we’ve suffered on our own.”

  The sirens wailed on, but this time they didn’t give much warning. Engines not so far away droned, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw the bombers approaching. When he looked back at Sally, tears tracked down her cheeks, her eyes deep with sorrow.

  “Come on now, the bombers are coming!” Bink said.

  She groaned, and the tears became heavy sobs.

  Alec held out one hand. “Come to me.”

  She took one step and the other toward him, and with each progression, the bombers became louder and louder.

  “Just leave.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll take my chances with the air raid.”

  “We’re not going anywhere.” Alec glanced around at the others who gathered closer.

  She waved him off. “Get out of here. I won’t be responsible for your death.”

  “You’re not responsible!” He couldn’t keep his voice steady or low. “You aren’t responsible for your husband’s death, either! Allow us to help you!”

  The roar of aircraft engines battered his ears as they careened overhead. Any minute he expected a bomb to land on top of them. The bombers zoomed overhead, and Alec felt sweat bead on his upper lip. His heart slammed against his ribs. One bomb dropped in the distance. An explosion rumbled under their feet, and the people behind him cried out and commented. The air raid for today was here. Night dropped quickly, and it seemed they’d been up here forever.

  “Please, Sally.”

  She started walking toward him again, and fear tightened his gut into a hot ball. His breath came shorter and shorter. Finally, she placed her hand in his. He clasped her tightly. As the bombers continued their deadly flight, the others ran down the stairs.

  Around Alec and Sally, the bombs rattled the world. Fear bombarded him. She started to sob, and he slipped his arm around her and headed for the door leading off the roof.

  She resisted his pull and sobbed. “No. No, leave me up here.”

  “You’re coming with me.” He tugged her through the doorway, and they descended as the world roared and crumbled.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Edna and Susie took charge of Sally and moved with her toward the control center room.

  Arnie walked up to Alec and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You be able to work tonight, son?”

  Alec’s mind felt pulverized, stabbed with the grief Sally experienced. “Yes. I need to work. Someone needs to be with her. Maybe her other family.”

  Arnie nodded. “We’ll make sure someone’s with her at all times.”

  Alec returned the firefighter’s grim expression. “Good. Then let’s get suited up and ready if a call comes for us.” Arnie returned to his small office.

  Several of the other men, including Bink and Felix, walked up to Alec.

  Bink shook Alec’s hand. “That was bloody brilliant, man. You saved her life.”

  Alec shook his head, unable to think straight.

  Felix said, “You need a drink.”

  “Got any?” Alec realized his hands were shaking and held them out.

  Bink grabbed his arm. “Got some in the kitchen.”

  Before long Alec sat at a table slugging down whiskey. He only took the one drink. “That’s all for me.”

  The liquor burned a bit going down, but he didn’t care. He needed help to steady himself this one time.

  “You’re natural at that,” Felix said.

  Alec didn’t have patience for ridiculousness right now. “At what?”

  “Saving people’s lives,” Bink said.

  Alec knocked back the last dribble of his drink. “Bollocks.”

  A relentless rumble filled the air as the German’s pounded London. Alec didn’t know if he trembled now from the bombing or from Sally’s almost-suicide.

  “Women shouldn’t be in the AFS. Sally proves it,” another firefighter said from across the room.

  Alec bristled, but Felix spoke up.

  “Heard there was a Time magazine correspondent that published an article called ‘The Legacy of Britain.’ Wanker doesn’t think we’ll really make it through this,” Felix said.

  Alec wondered himself.

  “Sally and every woman in the AFS are just as good as we are. They serve as best as they can.” Alec gave the firefighter across the room an ugly look. “So I suggest you shut your trap.”

  The man stood up and came toward Alec, but Felix and Bink jumped up to intercept.

  “Whoa now.” Felix kept the man back. “He didn’t mean nothing by it. Just ease down.”

  The other man shrugged and left the room.

  Felix sighed and planted his hands on his hips. “Don’t pay him any mind. Man’s thick as a board.”

  Bink kept his voice low when he said, “Maybe we’ll be lucky and he’ll step on a UXB.”

  Alec cursed under his breath. “Don’t wish that on anyone, Bink. Not even him.”

  The call came less than five minutes later. Time to roll.

  * * * *

  Alec was asleep at eight fifteen that night after a long day of fighting fires at the Thames Estuary. The Luftwaffe had penetrated to several targets, but RAF fighters had shot some of the bastards down. Despite his exhaustion, he drifted in a half-awake status. Sounds around him barely penetrated. Then he heard it. The sirens blasted again, and before he knew it, the bombs fell. He jerked to full awareness, sitting up on his narrow bed. Felix threw on a light switch, but the bare bulb above them blinked and extinguished. Cursing from other AFS personnel went up around the room. Sleep had been shorthanded the last few nights, and Alec suffered for it. His body didn’t want to cooperate as he shoved his feet in his boots, threw on his gear, and prepared to leave. Before he knew it, Alec, Felix, and Bink were driving toward one fire of many. Bombers made a relentless path across the sky.

  “Sods are coming from every direction, looks like,” Bink said.

  Arnie had alerted them that the bombers came from all directions, and the full moon made it easy for the Germans to see targets. They headed toward yet another warehouse fire. All around them flames roared high into the sky. Tonight would prove a bigger challenge than anything they’d seen before.

  Alec drove the car and pump through damaged streets, attempting to reach the warehouse along with other pumps, but it wasn’t easy. In the daylight he knew this place would look exactly as it was—a war zone. He saw dozens of citizens attempting to put out incendiaries as they fell from the sky. Searchlights illuminated the sky. Sirens continued to pierce the night while the drone of enemy aircraft rumbled overhead. The bang, bang, and ack ack of anti-aircraft batteries mixed with bombs pounding the city. This was hell.

  “Must be sending them from France and Belgium too,” Alec said about the bombers.

  Fel
ix cursed. “I swear if I ever get my hands on a Jerry, I’ll just kill him for the fun of it.”

  Alec almost said that Felix wouldn’t or he shouldn’t, but held his tongue. He shouldn’t kill for the fun of it—only necessity made sense in a war, as far as Alec was concerned.

  Alec’s mind went to where Sylvie was and if she’d taken shelter in the Savoy. At this time of night she probably had, and that gave him a measure of comfort. Unless she’s out working a story or in the company of Pendleton. He didn’t like the last alternative, but at least he knew Pendleton would try his level best to keep her safe. He knew that much about the man’s integrity.

  Alec and the other firemen reached the warehouse and immediately battled the flames. As Alec and Felix managed one hose, Bink and another fireman with a second pump worked a different section. Though glad for his helmet and face covering, Alec shivered as water soaked him. The double-breasted jacket he’d received a week ago was better than the one he had previously. His leggings and Wellington boots helped keep him drier, and it was at least a little relief. Felix worked the hose in front, while steam came off of his back.

  As a bomb whistled overhead, Alec felt hair rise on his neck.

  Bink cursed. “Oh, hell!”

  “Don’t worry,” Alec yelled above the fire’s fury and the water spray. “If you can hear the bomb, it isn’t meant for you.”

  “Right!” Bink sounded skeptical. “Shite, these blokes mean business!”

  Alec heard sounds behind him and realized shrapnel was falling.

  “Looking forward to that tea wagon,” Alec said about the noise.

  Bink barked out a laugh. “Hell yes. As long as there’s tea, Britain won’t be defeated.”

  “Remind me to tell ya a Great War story my father told me a few weeks back. After tonight is over,” Bink said above the noise.

  Alec smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

  Amazing how dull the war would be after there were no more bomb stories to tell. Either about the last war or this one. His country had suffered horrible losses in the Great War and the Spanish Flu. Though their losses already had a high tally in this war, he could only pray to God they wouldn’t be as bad as last time. Under the steady assault of the Germans, he wondered how long tonight would be. He soon discovered the answer as one of the pumps ran out of water and retreated closer to the Thames in order to syphon more. That left few men including Alec, Felix, and Bink to man the remaining pump. Despite the edgy feeling riding his back, Alec and Bink continued to work the hose. Bink held the front of the hose while Alec managed a ways behind.

  Arnie ordered Alec and Bink to take their hose farther down an alley between the two warehouses. They shut off the valve and moved the car and pump closer to the narrow opening to the alley.

  “Don’t like the looks of this one, guvnor,” Bink said as they maneuvered the hose between the buildings.

  Alec didn’t like it either, but he didn’t say so. No point whether he did or didn’t, since Arnie had ordered them to do so. Heat hovered over them as they made headway on the flaming beast. It seemed they stood there forever before another fireman ran down the alley. It was Baxter, a guy who’d started only a week ago.

  Baxter was suited up and ready for the fight. “They want me to switch with one of you. To get my feet wet and relieve you.”

  “Oh, you’ll get your feet wet all right.” Alec smiled at the guy.

  “Go.” Bink nodded toward the mouth of the alley. “Take a rest, Kent. You’re an old cock and need the rest.”

  “I don’t need a rest,” Alec said.

  Baxter gestured back. “Brass hat says to change places, so I do what he tells me.”

  Alec laughed around the intensifying heat and the flames roaring. He could go back to the car and maybe have some water and hard tack. His stomach chose that moment to agree with him.

  He glanced above his head, and sparks flew from fire near the top of the warehouse and blew over to the warehouse behind him.

  “Watch out for that other building,” Alec said. “It might go up next.”

  “Right.” Bink acknowledged it but kept attention on the conflagration in front of him.

  Alec glanced at the building again, apprehension making him hang back.

  “Go!” Bink said again.

  Alec took his advice, backing down the alley and watching as Baxter took his place. In the light thrown around the alley by the flames, he saw air blowing between the warehouse bricks. A puff. A telltale sign that he’d seen before. A parapet wall leaned into the street. Sheer terror punched him in the gut.

  “Hey!” He ran back down the alley toward Bink and Baxter. “Hey! Collapse! Collapse! Get out of there!”

  Bink and Baxter heard him above the racket and started running toward Alec. Alec reversed directions, knowing time wouldn’t wait for any of them.

  A roar and rumble started behind him that had nothing to do with bombs. Seconds later the roar became the death scream of a building coming apart at the seams. They’d tried to tame the beast, but now it took its revenge. He ran faster as the world behind him gave way.

  * * * *

  Above Sylvie and James, the Germans were unmerciful. Incendiaries fell where they would, and so did bombs. She recorded everything in her mind, her hands trembling too much to write on pen and paper. They hurried down the street toward the Savoy, the light from fires making it easy to see their way.

  Sylvie was quite sure she’d lost her mind roaming the streets of London during the latest bombing. She’d taken James’ invitation to eat at a pub not far from work when the usual madness started. The pub had a shelter open during business hours, and the few patrons had dashed downstairs. James and Sylvie hadn’t—they’d taken to the streets to report on what they could see. Definitely not one of the smarter things she’d done, but she knew a great story would come of tonight. Not great in results, but in her value as a war correspondent and in getting the message to the United States of what truly happened over here. Maybe there would be more than cans of Spam to help the British.

  She imagined that the Central London attack felt as petrifying as the September seventh attack had been for the East End. Luftwaffe tactics hadn’t changed. They dropped incendiaries and set targets alight. As firemen hurried to tackle blazes, another wave of bombers would approach and unleash a hellish amount of high-explosive bombs.

  “We’re insane!” Sylvie stopped on the sidewalk, aware that anyone with half a brain had long ago taken shelter underground.

  James smiled and put his arm around her. “Changed your mind about getting a story?”

  “I’ve got my story!”

  “All right then. Next shelter is down a ways. Let’s do it.”

  They moved their walk to a trot. Handfuls of people poured sand on an incendiary, and Sylvie took note of it for a story later. James steered her far away from it. Sylvie’s blood curdled as another bomb fell Earthward. The horrible whistling noise told them it was time to rush for cover. One man crossing the street simply froze in place, and she caught his expression. He was rooted to the ground, transfixed by a terror. She understood how he felt. Her life was out of control, her fate in the hands of whim.

  If the bomb hurtling through the air rose in pitch, it was coming for them. The note became deeper. It was heading in someone else’s way. Another man ran blindly in no particular direction, panic etched into his features. Had he realized what a mistake he’d made being out in the open? Did he pray under his breath for safety?

  James pushed her against a wall and shielded her with his body as the bomb hit somewhere down the street in the direction they’d just come. The earth seemed to rock under her feet as she clung to James’ shoulders. For what seemed forever, the earth vibrated far below as if someone used a giant sledgehammer on the earth beneath them. Glass shattered in all directions. She felt herself falling. James fell on top of her, shoving the breath from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe for a moment, and panic surged inside her. She pushed
against him.

  He levered off of her, anxiety clear on his face. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. You?”

  “Fine.” He stood and helped her to her feet.

  James released her as he looked down the street at the broken windows. “Parachute mine.”

  “What?” she asked, breathless.

  “I saw it floating down.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Behind them starting a block or so down all they saw was ruins, smoke rising as fires started.

  “Come on. We need to get out of here. The shelter isn’t that far. Keep moving.”

  “But…there might be people hurt back there.”

  “We don’t have the equipment to help them or the resources. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and started running.

  Above them anti-aircraft guns spat and boomed. The sound reminded her of lightning striking close.

  She almost stayed back, aware that somewhere behind her houses had crumbled and lives may have been lost. She was running from it. Running.

  The smell of explosive mixture assaulted her nose, dust blowing in their direction from demolished buildings. The ground beneath them shook and windows rattled as somewhere another bomb detonated.

  They reached the shelter James had mentioned and rushed through the door and down the stairs. When they reached the room, she was surprised to see how large it was. It wasn’t a railway station, but near to one. On first guess she thought maybe a hundred people occupied the place. Most turned to look at them, and she felt conspicuous. Though her pocketbook was clutched in one hand and her gas mask still dangled over her arm, she imagined she looked as if someone had run her over. One old couple took kindly on them and directed Sylvie and James to a table in the back. They’d eaten at the pub, but someone handed them bags of Smith’s crisps and a bottle each of Tizer. Underground, this place was better than a concrete or brick built shelter for the public, and way better than a measly Anderson or Morrison shelter. They settled against a back wall and sat down. She shivered in her coat and hat, but she was so grateful to be here she didn’t care.