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World War ll London Blitz:  Buy On Smashwords
I am the great-granddaughter of Ruby Side Thompson. 
Recently I started re-reading the World War ll journals and felt that they were such an important part of a history that will soon be forgotten if not published and shared with the world. These diary excerpts are not the entirety of what is published in print and kindle.
Ruby grew up during a time when education was just beginning to be encouraged for both upper and middle class women. During the late 1890's Ruby explored many radical political ideas of London, England. She met many famous people including the writers George Bernard Shaw and William Butler Yeats. 
5.0 out of 5 stars A choice pick, not to be overlooked, November 6, 2011 By Midwest Book Review (Oregon, WI USA)

World War ll London Blitz: 12-11-43 Last night we had a fairly heavy raid in this section, between eight and nine in the evening.

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December 11, 1943

Last night we had a fairly heavy raid in this section, between eight and nine in the evening. Rita Pullan was here and waited for the all clear before departing. She said it was like Nineteen-Forty when you had to run home between the raids. The B.B.C. this morning reported four bombers down, three falling to one pilot, some damage and some casualties in the Greater London area. I guess we were the area. 

December 20, 1943 

We were up twice in the night for raids. We heard one bomb fall which sounded fairly near; we have heard this afternoon that the railway line was hit between Stratford and Bethnal Green, nobody killed but several linesmen injured, traffic stopped all morning, but has resumed again now.

Influenza is rather serious just now, quite an epidemic, last week there were eleven hundred and forty eight deaths from it in England alone. However this is the first really bad health of the war. This is Ted’s Home-Guard night, so I am going to take my tea now, and read awhile in cozy solitude. So Au-Revoir.

December 30, 1943

I remain very serene, calm, and shall I say “happy”? News the R.A.F. bombed Berlin again last night. I am sorry about that. I know the warring has to be resumed, but I wish our authorities had felt they could let the Christmas respite last a little longer. However…

6-11-42 Letter to Bill and Jean Berry (Friends in the U.S.) From Ruby Thompson

                                         78 Western Road
                                         Romford, Essex
                                    Thursday, June 11, 1942

             My dear Bill and Jean,

     I've had a letter from Eddie in which he tells me a parcel of ham and butter which I received, wordless, direct from Macy's last Winter, and which I attributed to his kindness, came instead from you. So please accept my very belated thanks for the same. I saved these goodies for when Artie came home on leave, and believe me every bit was enjoyed to the last atom. Good food is extremely scarce these days. We are all getting quite enough to eat, but the rationing, though absolutely fair, works out very meagerly for the small households. Naturally the more you are in a family the better you can cater. If you spend 10/- worth of meat coupons, why, you can get a steak, or perhaps a sirloin, and then there is the makings of at least one good tasting meal for everybody. But when I can spend only 2/- per week for two people-why- what can you buy? My stand-by (this is especially for Jean's interest- supposing she's interested) is a piece of fresh brisket, which is only 10d. per lb. But - do you know brisket? I bet you don't! It's like thin streaky bacon, a strip of lean, then an equal strip of fat. The meat is poor and flavorless, but it will provide two dinners - and - what is really worth more - a jar of good dripping. In ordinary times I should never dream of buying brisket- and you may be sure, once the war is over, I shall never buy it again as long as I live- or until there is another war-which God forbid! As for ham! -that's quite forgotten. Our butter, 2 ozs. per week per person-we save for Sundays. Butter deprivation is serious. It seems that butter carries a special vitamin which keeps our eyes healthy: so there are a lot of sore eyes about, because of this lack. The margarine we get - 4 ozs. per week per person - is excellent- but it is not butter, and will not do the work of butter. However, it is palatable, and certainly very much improved on the margarine of pre-war days. Thousands of the English poor never have eaten any "butter" except margarine, because real butter was always too expensive. A charwoman I once had once told me she only bought butter for herself in her family, because neither her husband nor her children would eat it; they preferred margarine as having more taste. We mainly eat our margarine hot  on toast, when it tastes really nice. As for eggs, that's a joke. Our egg ration has been two per person per month. When we get them we make a dinner of them. Well, one day this Spring a friend from the country bought us three honest-to-goodness real new-laid eggs. We decided to celebrate with a high tea. Ted enjoyed his egg fine; so did I mine; but it gave me an attack of indigestion! I tasted sulphur all night, and until after lunch the next day. My stomach had forgotten how to handle an egg. I have heard of other people having the same trouble. Some folks claim it is something peculiar in the eggs, due to the very eccentric food the hens get nowadays. Maybe but there you are - we can no longer digest fresh eggs. Probably we'll have forgotten how to handle other foods also - but we will try our luck just the same, whenever we get any. 

     Now note: I sit down to write a letter and what do I write about? Food. Isn't it awful! Whenever people get together nowadays invariably the talk turns to food. Where you can get what, what ques you stood in, what wasn't worth waiting for, and the cost- the awful mounting cost. The unrationed foods soar until the government steps in and regulates prices, but then the item disappears. This is a joke. We just laugh. If you could be here you would be surprised how good-tempered the British are. The English still confine their grumbles to the weather. The war disagreeableness is accepted uncomplainingly-or they bring down the house handed out as vaudeville jokes. Yes, we are queer people. 
     I haven't any particular news to write. We are well and hope to keep so. Mr. Thompson is a Lance/Corporal in the Home Guard. He goes on duty three nights a week, and Sunday mornings. Artie has his commission in the Reconnaissance Corps. Cuth has been shifted to a new camp and should now be addressed at Stulag Luft 3. He writes cheerfully enough, but this week he told us that all the men of his crew have now perished. Poor lads! We were able to sleep in our beds all this past winter, but now since the raid on Cologne trouble is stirring again and I expect right now we shall have to abandon the upper floor. My young brother was in Singapore. From there he got to Colombo, and now my mother has received a cable from  Capetown, saying he is on his way home. 
     We have just been told tonight of the visit of Molotov to London and Berlin. Bill, I have often thought of your visit to Russia, back in the 30's. This must help you to visualize the Russian front quite a lot, and I think you must be more glad than ever now that you made that trip. Do you know what strikes me most about the trend of events? It's this: The Russian idea is going to win the world in the end, without directly campaigning for it. When daily every state becomes more and more totalitarian, and when you listen to the talk on what is to be done to Society after the war- why- Bolshevism walks in as a matter of course- doesn't it? Funny I think. 
     Now Au-revoir. Keep on praying for us and keep us in your affectionate remembrances. Ted sends greetings, compliments, regards. I send my thanks and love. 
     Ruby A. Thompson 

World War ll London Blitz: 11-6-43 Today the Russians have retaken Kiev. The Germans captured it in September 1941. The B.B.C. broke into program at eleven this morning to broadcast the news.

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November 6, 1943 

Today the Russians have retaken Kiev. The Germans captured it in September 1941. The B.B.C. broke into program at eleven this morning to broadcast the news. 

November 9, 1943 

A bad raid in the night, and also two on Sunday night. On Sunday a dance hall was struck, a milk-bar, and two cinemas, and the crowds of young people on the streets in the vicinity; it was London, though we may not have been told exactly where, probably the Tottenham Court Road. We have raids now practically every night. Only a few bombers come over, but they do a lot of damage. It is only sixteen minutes flying time from the airdromes in France over to London, as Gerry can make quick dashes and get away again almost before we are aware of him. Hitler made a speech in Munich last night, urging loyalty on his Germans and promising vengeance on the British. It is true the R.A.F. now does more damage to Germany than the Luftwaffe did to us, but who started this business? Germany has to be licked, and licked forever, but at what frightful price! Oh God, let the war end soon. 

November 28, 1943 Advent Sunday 

The B.B.C. tells us that during the past eight days the R.A.F. have bombed Berlin five times, dropping in all six thousand tons of bombs on the city. This is awful. It makes me weep. I weep for Berlin, as well as us, and for all the dead, the dead in Berlin, and our boys who will never return. War, damned ghastly fiendish war! Is this the only way men can settle the affairs of he world? One wry joke comes in. The B.B.C. reports that a spokesman on the German air told the Germans that Berlin was carrying on in the debris, life as usual, including even the theaters, and listed two of the plays still running as, “Queen of the Night,” and “Love’s Glamour Over All.” What irony!

World War ll London Blitz: 10-8-43 We have had air raids every night since Sunday. Last night’s was the heaviest yet. Two bombs dropped on the Golf Links. I actually went outside to look at the sky and saw a Gerry caught in the searchlights.

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October 8, 1943

We have had air raids every night since Sunday. Last night’s was the heaviest yet. Two bombs dropped on the Golf Links. I actually went outside to look at the sky and saw a Gerry caught in the searchlights. The moon up, the stars shining, the lights criss-crossing, colored flares dropping, it is a beautiful night, but what a devil’s beauty. During the evening Ted wrote me two checks, one for my hats, the other to cover Jo Tibb’s dressmaking bill. I duly thanked him. 

October 18, 1943 

There was a very heavy raid again last night. Rockingham Avenue, about a mile or a mile and a half from here, got a direct hit, ten houses down and six people killed outright, several others injured and taken to the hospital. 

October 19, 1943 

There was a raid again last night. It’s moonlight of course. Nothing fell here, thank God. Yet somewhere else got the bombs. Oh, when will this damn war finish! What frightful times we are living in! What infuriating ones, for none of the world’s troubles need be. Men have made the world the way it is. Men destroy society and civilization. Fool men. Wicked men. Goddamn men! God does damn men. We are all damned. 

October 20, 1943 

I am very restless and very tired. Another raid last night so we are all losing sleep, and that’s making us all cranky. Ted is on my nerves excessively. I do think him a fool. He fusses about nothing and too pious for words. I loathe his piety. Why oh why can’t he be a normal man? I think he is a maniac, and I am so tired of him I do not know how to go on living with him any longer. He’s good and he means well, but the fact is, I can’t bear him. I’ve had too much of him. Marriage last too long. I hate marriage. One night soon, perhaps tonight, he will want his pleasure, and he’ll take it. Will he say his prayers over that? Of course not. In the morning he’ll be up and off to mass, as per usual. Habit.

October 21, 1943 Trafalgar Day. Salute to Nelson.

We had another very bad raid last night, between one and two this morning. I trembled so incessantly that this morning my limbs ache as though I had climbed a mountain and even my arms ache. I retched so much I am feeling my ribs are bruised, as though somebody kicked them. I am so tired from lack of sleep my eyes are smarting. During a raid like last nights it is easy to understand how human beings can die of shock and fear. Once I held my breath thinking the house was surely hit, but it wasn’t, nor anywhere immediately near, so far as I know. War. This fiendish war, the sport of men.

October 22, 1943

There was a raid again last night, between two and three a.m. and another this evening about half past seven until nearly nine. This evening was a very heavy one. The Gerry’s have got through to London every night now for a week, but it was the last quarter of the moon yesterday, so we may hope for quieter nights next week. We are all very tired. Since Gerry came early this evening we hope for an undisturbed night tonight.

October 23, 1943

Tonight’s news is that today David Lloyd George married at a registry office near Guildford, a Miss Stevenson who has been his private secretary for thirty years. The bride is fifty-five, whilst Lloyd-George is something over eighty. His first wife, Dame Margaret Lloyd-George died in nineteen forty-one. Late this afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd-George left Chart for an undisclosed location. The honeymoon couple! My God! What a silly old goat! What a glaring instance this is that men do not love women and they only love themselves. A man must have his pleasure. His pleasure. Oh God, how I hate men!

October 24, 1943

We have now had nine consecutive nights of bombing again. It is most wearing. Oh this damn war, this lunacy.

November 6, 1943

Today the Russians have retaken Kiev. The Germans captured it in September Nineteen Forty-One. The B.B.C. broke into program at eleven this morning to broadcast the news.

World War ll London Blitz: 9-1-43 Four years today since Hitler attacked Poland and started the World War.

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September 1, 1943

Four years today since Hitler attacked Poland and started the World War. The Pope announced last week that he would make a broadcast “to the world” today. So far have heard nothing from Rome, but shall probably do so this evening. Yet what can the Pope say that anyone will pay attention to? Hiherto he has always condoned his Italians: condoned war. The non-Italian and non-Catholic world, I think, will turn a very deaf ear today to his holiness the Pope.

Last night Churchill broadcast a speech from Quebec. It sent me to sleep. He uttered nothing but platitudes and compliments, the chief idea seem to be to keep the Russians buttered up so that they keep on fighting. Do we really care for the Russians? I don’t think so.

The Pope’s broadcast was an appeal for peace. Coming now this is farcical, also presumptuous and impertinent. When Mussolini raped Abyssinia and later Albania (and that on a Good Friday too!) the last Pope said nothing. This Pope, Pacelli, is a Roman aristocrat, he has never rebuked Mussolini for any of his war crimes, never pleaded with the King of Italy for peace and justice, never urged the Italian people to disobey their corrupt government. Sometimes he has given out a lot of general rhetorical words, but he has never said to Mussolini, not to the Italians “Thou art the man.” He has never preached Christ the peacemaker and peace bringer. No, he is merely another Machevelli. So long as Italy was attacking her neighbors, think what she has done to Greece! And winning, the Pope uttered no single word of protest, let alone dissuasion; but now that Italy herself is being attacked, and losing, the Pope cries out to the world for peace. Wonderful! Who does he think he is going to get to pay any attention to him? He could have talked the Italians out of the Axis in the beginning, if he had wished to do so. He didn’t. I suppose, like the rest of the clever and tricky Italians, he thought Hitler was going to win the war. By now he has found out differently, so he appeals to the world for peace. Bah! Another rat. Another Italia diplomat, another schemer, that’s all he is. Peace indeed! We are all sick of the war, but we shall carry on with it until the Axis is beaten. The Pope knows the terms for peace for his Italy, unconditional surrender. This war is hell, but we didn’t start it. We shall finish it, and we shall be the victors.

September 3, 1943

The fourth anniversary of our entry into the war, today the fifth year of the war begins. It begins well, for us, for it is announced that at four-thirty this morning British and Canada made a successful landing on the toe of Italy. The allied invasion of the continent of Europe has begun.

September 8, 1943

Italy has surrendered. At half past five this evening General Eisenhower broadcast from Algiers, that our armistice terms have been agreed to, without reservations and the Italians having laid down their arms, fighting against Italy has ceased, the armistice commencing at once. So Italy is out of the war. Eisenhower also added a promise to the effect that if Italy is attacked by any other power, we, the United Nations, will help her fight her attacker. This, presumably, is for the benefit of the Germans. Will the Germans round on Italy? Quite possibly. They signed a peace pact with Russia in 1939, but that didn’t prevent them from invading and attacking Russia in 1941.So what next?

September 16, 1943

The Germans were over this area again last night, and dropped bombs in three different London areas. Nothing dropped here, but it might have done. What’s the use of money in the bank to a dead woman? So I went and bought two new hats and very becoming ones at that. At least I’ll look all right, even if I don’t feel it. Now I have got to cook this afternoon. Mushrooms to be fixed for tea, and I suppose I had better do something about the pastry. What a life!

September 18, 1943

At dinner yesterday the B.B.C. broadcast an announcement of the calling in of all five-point value clothes coupons because of a big theft of these coupons somewhere. So both Hilda and Artie said they would have to return some they had, and what a nuisance. Then there was further talk about coupons, and how few we got, and so on. Thence to the subject of stockings, now, ever since coupons were instituted most girls have complained about no coupons for stockings. Stockings are two coupons per pair, and we have only two coupons to last six months. “How many pairs of stockings did you buy ordinarily before coupons?” I asked her. “ “A pair a week?” (Thinking that a lot). “Oh no,” she said: “a pair a day.” Ted exclaimed at that. “Oh yes.” She said, “”but they weren’t expensive ones.” “And you bought a pair a day?” asked Ted, very incredulous. “Oh, Yes, I had to.” “Why?” “Well they laddered.” “Couldn’t you mend them?” “Oh, no. I couldn’t wear a mended stocking, and when your boyfriend took you out, of course you had to have nice stockings.” “Well what do you do with the old ones?” “Oh, my mother would wear them to do her work in.” Ted shut up, but he gave Artie a long look. After Ted had gone back to the office the conversation still went on about clothes coupons. Hilda said the worst problems were shoes and stockings. I said, “How often did you buy new shoes?  “Once a month,” she said. She laughed, and then went on. “Well that wasn’t so bad. You see, I was working in a shoe shop, and my boss was my pal, my boyfriend; and we used to get a bonus once a month, so he used to let me have bargains, so usually I’d buy a pair of shoes with my bonus, or sometimes I’d buy a dress."

September 21, 1943

It is the first day of autumn and the re-opening of Parliament. There was a long speech from Mr. Churchill, who returned from America on Sunday. He said that the bloodiest part of the war is yet to come.