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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: 10-7-39 Stone’s man came this morning bringing the dark window blinds I ordered on September 4 for the black out.

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September 26, 1939
A letter from Harold arrived this morning by airmail. He tells me he and Charlie are seeing the immigration officials, and will both fill out the necessary forms and affidavits, and forward them to me by the next mail. He tells me once over there I will need no money, and I can live in Baldwin with him forever. What a relief!
After supper I showed the letter to Ted. He was surprised, but asked me, was it right that I would prefer to live with the boys, and did I really want to go to America? I said, yes, please. He said, all right, and he wouldn’t put any obstacles in my way. He also added that certainly he would pay my passage, and would see if he could make me an allowance. This, I think, because he was piqued by Harold’s remarks about money. Anyhow, he did make the offer.
October 7, 1939
Stone’s man came this morning bringing the dark window blinds I ordered on September 4 for the black out. Ted opened the door to him, and then called out to me, “Hi Lady! Did you order these shades for the last war, or this one?” Already we are feeling the pinch in many commodities. Stone’s say they cannot fill their orders for blinds, because they cannot get the materials.
I have been to town, to the warehouse, to buy sheets and pillowcases, and they haven’t gotten any. There has been a scarcity of sugar for weeks. Last week I couldn’t buy tea. This week I couldn’t buy lard. Soon now we shall have ration cards, but it doesn’t follow we shall be able to get rations.
October 8, 1939
There is news from Zurich today of the beating up of Frau Anna Zeigler, the Nazi’s Women’s Leader. She was speaking somewhere in the Ruhr district, and told the women Hitler was very angry with them, because they were not keeping up the morale of their men, and that he would treat them like soldiers. This made her audience so angry, so wild, that they stormed the platform and beat her up and scratched her so severely that she had to be taken to the hospital. The Gestapo police arrested nineteen women. The women shouted that they had no husbands, and they had no food. I should think they would be wild. If a man gave them such a line of talk they would just consider him some fool of a man, let him talk himself out, and pay no attention. For a woman to talk to them in this fashion is treason to the sex and I should think they would beat her up.
I am surprised at what we do hear about the submission of the German women. We were told one day that when the women would be waiting in the food queues to get their family rations, and sometimes having to wait for hours, Army Louie’s would drive up, impress a load of women, take them to the barracks, and make them cook and scrub for the soldiers. The excuse given was that since they had plenty of time to wait in the lines, they had plenty of time for other purposes, so they must work for their country, and do whatever the Government told them. This sort of thing is outrageous but why do the women submit to it? The soldiers, by brute force, could compel the women to go to the barracks, but they couldn’t compel them to peel vegetables, or to scrub; and surely even the Germans wouldn’t be such fiends as to kill them for refusing. I can’t imagine Englishwomen submitting to such masculine tyranny. If our Tommie’s gathered up a load of women from Romford market, I think they’d find they’d got a load of wildcats to deal with.

October 9, 1939
When I have to live in this world that men have made, especially this Europe, run by male maniacs, I feel most vehemently that I have no use for men, and I will not agree with them about any of their affairs. Why should I pay attention to what men say? That’s why I am feeling so absolutely anti-Christian, swinging back to what I was in my beginnings, anti-Christian. What can a man tell me about God? What’s a priest, but a man? I have produced men, brought them to birth, suckled them, brought them to maturity, through every indignity of the flesh, and no man can tell me anything, unless it is the rare man like Emerson or Whitman, who are talking about spirit and principles, not about other men.
No man can speak for me, or think for me, no matter how renowned he is in goodness and cleverness. I will think for myself and speak for myself as much as I dare. I have even been reading old Harriet Martineau. It’s one hundred years since she asserted herself as an independent being. I want my Mary Beard. I loaned her book, Concerning Women, to Dorrie Stanforth more than a year ago, and she hasn’t returned it yet. I suspect she can’t read it.
That’s why I want to go to America, the country where people are not narrow-minded in traditions and religions of the past, and where women are accorded equality with men.

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