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After a Summer of day-light dog fights against the British, the Germans were rethinking things. Dropping bombs on their radar stations wasn't doing a bit of good and it seemed like bombing the airfields just made the British angrier and more powerful. Nothing pisses off a pilot like having some Germans getting in the way of hanging around and looking handsome. "Now look here chap, we were just slouching and discussing whether to go to the pub and you just had to ruin that by dropping some bombs. That is most uncivilized."
So the Germans regrouped and decided that night time is the right time to lay down a little carnage. Churchill referred to the war as, (and I kid you not) "The wizard war" due to all the technological advances that were being made in the battle to deter the enemy. Because really at heart, everything is about Harry Potter. Alas no pet owls. The Germans would come up with a way to overcome some problem (like flying in poor conditions to pay a visit to England) and then the English would come up with something to jam them and then the Germans would come up with something new and it would go back and forth. It was an impressive game at times. The British did have the very best (in the world. No one could argue) when it came to Radar and tracking but it was still not good enough. There would be hundreds of people at work tracking the movement of enemy planes, where the RAF squadrons were. I am serious. They would track from squadrons sitting around and writing letters to the times about spotting some rare species of bird to getting their shoes on to engaging with the enemy. It was worse than FB.
Even with all of these new measures, German pilots didn't find this to be a party. A pilot spoke of wanting to say, "screw this" drop his bombs WHEREVER and go home. But he couldn't. (objectives and all and what if it just dropped on a honey badger or something.) Another spoke of being so out of it and on edge that he and another pilot were about to bomb this bright golden thing in view when they realized, "oh wait. It's the moon." The English weather was kind of helpful in preventing the Germans from popping over for a visit but with assorted new technologies, a grey night wasn't stopping them so much.
These night-time raids involved bombing cities. In the case of London, what often helped the Germans was the path of the Thames (Even with the black out it was easy to spot -especially on a clear night) It was a peculiar world for the English. (especially as observed by American journalists) During the day everything was very normal. People would get up and go to work (they might be a bit late if their house had been bombed and so it might take a bit longer to make tea) and by God they would stick to the routine. Then night would fall and everyone would go to their shelters and wait for the bombings. Some would line up early in the afternoon because you would want a good spot in the tube. (where many people would shelter.) There were some shelters that were better than others. There was one that was beneath a posh hotel and a bunch of east-enders who were a little bit tired of their over-crowded digs decided to wait until the last possible moment and then just come on in to the posh shelter. By law they couldn't be turned away because you had to accept people if there was a raid. But then once it was over, the attitude was, "okay Dick Van Dyke, you and your weird accent need to get out of here."
London is an international city. Always has been. (especially with that pretty vast empire) and because of that there were all kinds of interesting people running about and hilariously each had their opinions about their fellow refugees. Sometimes they would be more xenophobic than the English. And people were quick to adopt the whole attitude of being a hardened citizen of London. Kind of like New Yorkers, finding someone who has been here less time than you, makes you an expert. And really nothing gave you edge like having your home bombed to bits.
You couldn't get too emotional about being bombed (as long as you and everyone else was still alive.) and like being mugged in New York, no one wanted to hear your story unless you were willing to listen to theirs. (always a case of my dog was bigger than your dog) Though as an aside my brother has the best mugged in New York story. The mugger took his backpack and a sentimental piece of jewelry from him. My brother was pretty pissed and decided to track down his mugger and started running after him. Some hard-core looking dudes in the ghetto (where my brother lived) wanted to know what was going on. He told them and they were all, "OH LET'S GET THIS CRACK HEAD" so the mugger had my brother and a bunch of hard-core dudes chasing him down the street. They got a hold of the mugger and the crack head began begging for mercy. My brother got his stuff back and proved that New York wasn't so bad.
There was also that natural human urge to go and rubberneck if the raid was rather bad. (admit it. you would look too.)
Thankfully there were plenty of American journalists in town who were happy to listen people's stories and it did leave the journalists in awe. People who accepted the fact "yeah the windows have been blown out three times but hey what are you gonna do?" or "I went to bed on the second story and woke up on the ground floor. Thankfully my ration books were in my handbag so all in all not the worst way to start the day." "It's not so bad. There are some seriously HOT people with HOT accents in town and hello date night."
After a few weeks, the Germans were a little bit puzzled. "Come on, we are BOMBING cities. Why aren't you freaking out and asking the government to make nice with us??" Goering wrote that the English were stubborn and weird. (exact words. I kid you not) He was right. He was getting really frustrated that things were not going according to plan. Everyone else in Europe gave in fairly quick but not the English. Because you know what? The English are a little weird. People were kind of enjoying the bombing. It was scary as hell and people were dying every night but it was kind of a fucked up party. Here is the key, people while complaining a bit about rationing (because complaining is a good past time) and the like; they were also telling the government. "we can ration more. let's pony up more taxes so we can do this." The wealthy did pay a great deal more in taxes to help fund the war. Rationing made it possible so that the working poor did not go without and were able to eat. There was a collective sense of, "Yeah we are weird but we have rules here and Hitler is an asshole."
This is something that assorted visitors to England had noticed over the years. (it always left the Germans kind of weirded out despite the complicated close relationship they had held for years) This is a country with all kinds of rules/licenses required to do just about anything. BUT there were also these other quirks. You had Speakers corner where ANYONE could share their ideas -no matter how damn stupid they were. The Prime Minister had to answer to all the members of the house of commons right on the floor. And it wasn't all nice either. The PM would come up with an idea and people would say, "THAT is a fucking stupid idea and that would take away liberties that we aren't prepared to remove. Why don't you come up with a better idea. And harrumph harrumph let's make noises like 13 year old boys." Churchill said that having to face everyone on a regular basis and answer directly kept him in check from getting too above it all.
This is the country that created the Magna Carta. Sure they had to threaten King John but he was being an asshole and that just isn't done. So that nice little piece paper in essence says, "Fine. Be an asshole on your own time, but don't think you are above keep off the fucking grass like the rest of us. Let's be a little civil now." (we will overlook for a second that non-white people were not often given the same respect but hey they did abolish slavery before the US, so let's say they were slow-moving in their social awareness) Walter Sobchak would have felt right at home.
And while Hitler wasn't an Englishman, he was trying to walk on the grass. He wanted that grass all for himself. That's when the English paused and said, "Hrm...that isn't done." Then they get out some biscuits and had a nibble. Then they gathered all of the craziest and most brilliant sorts for their wizard war and fucked up Hitler's shit for even daring to do such a thing.
Next post: continued stories of awesomeness
So the Germans regrouped and decided that night time is the right time to lay down a little carnage. Churchill referred to the war as, (and I kid you not) "The wizard war" due to all the technological advances that were being made in the battle to deter the enemy. Because really at heart, everything is about Harry Potter. Alas no pet owls. The Germans would come up with a way to overcome some problem (like flying in poor conditions to pay a visit to England) and then the English would come up with something to jam them and then the Germans would come up with something new and it would go back and forth. It was an impressive game at times. The British did have the very best (in the world. No one could argue) when it came to Radar and tracking but it was still not good enough. There would be hundreds of people at work tracking the movement of enemy planes, where the RAF squadrons were. I am serious. They would track from squadrons sitting around and writing letters to the times about spotting some rare species of bird to getting their shoes on to engaging with the enemy. It was worse than FB.
Even with all of these new measures, German pilots didn't find this to be a party. A pilot spoke of wanting to say, "screw this" drop his bombs WHEREVER and go home. But he couldn't. (objectives and all and what if it just dropped on a honey badger or something.) Another spoke of being so out of it and on edge that he and another pilot were about to bomb this bright golden thing in view when they realized, "oh wait. It's the moon." The English weather was kind of helpful in preventing the Germans from popping over for a visit but with assorted new technologies, a grey night wasn't stopping them so much.
These night-time raids involved bombing cities. In the case of London, what often helped the Germans was the path of the Thames (Even with the black out it was easy to spot -especially on a clear night) It was a peculiar world for the English. (especially as observed by American journalists) During the day everything was very normal. People would get up and go to work (they might be a bit late if their house had been bombed and so it might take a bit longer to make tea) and by God they would stick to the routine. Then night would fall and everyone would go to their shelters and wait for the bombings. Some would line up early in the afternoon because you would want a good spot in the tube. (where many people would shelter.) There were some shelters that were better than others. There was one that was beneath a posh hotel and a bunch of east-enders who were a little bit tired of their over-crowded digs decided to wait until the last possible moment and then just come on in to the posh shelter. By law they couldn't be turned away because you had to accept people if there was a raid. But then once it was over, the attitude was, "okay Dick Van Dyke, you and your weird accent need to get out of here."
London is an international city. Always has been. (especially with that pretty vast empire) and because of that there were all kinds of interesting people running about and hilariously each had their opinions about their fellow refugees. Sometimes they would be more xenophobic than the English. And people were quick to adopt the whole attitude of being a hardened citizen of London. Kind of like New Yorkers, finding someone who has been here less time than you, makes you an expert. And really nothing gave you edge like having your home bombed to bits.
You couldn't get too emotional about being bombed (as long as you and everyone else was still alive.) and like being mugged in New York, no one wanted to hear your story unless you were willing to listen to theirs. (always a case of my dog was bigger than your dog) Though as an aside my brother has the best mugged in New York story. The mugger took his backpack and a sentimental piece of jewelry from him. My brother was pretty pissed and decided to track down his mugger and started running after him. Some hard-core looking dudes in the ghetto (where my brother lived) wanted to know what was going on. He told them and they were all, "OH LET'S GET THIS CRACK HEAD" so the mugger had my brother and a bunch of hard-core dudes chasing him down the street. They got a hold of the mugger and the crack head began begging for mercy. My brother got his stuff back and proved that New York wasn't so bad.
There was also that natural human urge to go and rubberneck if the raid was rather bad. (admit it. you would look too.)
Thankfully there were plenty of American journalists in town who were happy to listen people's stories and it did leave the journalists in awe. People who accepted the fact "yeah the windows have been blown out three times but hey what are you gonna do?" or "I went to bed on the second story and woke up on the ground floor. Thankfully my ration books were in my handbag so all in all not the worst way to start the day." "It's not so bad. There are some seriously HOT people with HOT accents in town and hello date night."
After a few weeks, the Germans were a little bit puzzled. "Come on, we are BOMBING cities. Why aren't you freaking out and asking the government to make nice with us??" Goering wrote that the English were stubborn and weird. (exact words. I kid you not) He was right. He was getting really frustrated that things were not going according to plan. Everyone else in Europe gave in fairly quick but not the English. Because you know what? The English are a little weird. People were kind of enjoying the bombing. It was scary as hell and people were dying every night but it was kind of a fucked up party. Here is the key, people while complaining a bit about rationing (because complaining is a good past time) and the like; they were also telling the government. "we can ration more. let's pony up more taxes so we can do this." The wealthy did pay a great deal more in taxes to help fund the war. Rationing made it possible so that the working poor did not go without and were able to eat. There was a collective sense of, "Yeah we are weird but we have rules here and Hitler is an asshole."
This is something that assorted visitors to England had noticed over the years. (it always left the Germans kind of weirded out despite the complicated close relationship they had held for years) This is a country with all kinds of rules/licenses required to do just about anything. BUT there were also these other quirks. You had Speakers corner where ANYONE could share their ideas -no matter how damn stupid they were. The Prime Minister had to answer to all the members of the house of commons right on the floor. And it wasn't all nice either. The PM would come up with an idea and people would say, "THAT is a fucking stupid idea and that would take away liberties that we aren't prepared to remove. Why don't you come up with a better idea. And harrumph harrumph let's make noises like 13 year old boys." Churchill said that having to face everyone on a regular basis and answer directly kept him in check from getting too above it all.
This is the country that created the Magna Carta. Sure they had to threaten King John but he was being an asshole and that just isn't done. So that nice little piece paper in essence says, "Fine. Be an asshole on your own time, but don't think you are above keep off the fucking grass like the rest of us. Let's be a little civil now." (we will overlook for a second that non-white people were not often given the same respect but hey they did abolish slavery before the US, so let's say they were slow-moving in their social awareness) Walter Sobchak would have felt right at home.
And while Hitler wasn't an Englishman, he was trying to walk on the grass. He wanted that grass all for himself. That's when the English paused and said, "Hrm...that isn't done." Then they get out some biscuits and had a nibble. Then they gathered all of the craziest and most brilliant sorts for their wizard war and fucked up Hitler's shit for even daring to do such a thing.
Next post: continued stories of awesomeness
