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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: 3-19-41 Last night was terrible. London had the longest alert so far of the war. Alarm went off before eleven p.m. and the all clear not given until after five this morning. The noise was incessant. We could hear the bombs and the incendiaries falling all over the place, although none fell in our immediate blocks.

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March 19, 1941
Last night was terrible. London had the longest alert so far of the war. Alarm went off before eleven p.m. and the all clear not given until after five this morning. The noise was incessant. We could hear the bombs and the incendiaries falling all over the place, although none fell in our immediate blocks. The one o’clock news said the raiders passed over London and the Eastern counties, and concentrated their attack on Hall.
Today the figures are given for last week’s heavy raids on Merseyside and Clyde. They are: about five hundred killed and five hundred seriously injured. The Clyde area, nights of March 13th, and 14th: approximately five hundred killed and eight hundred seriously injured. This is devilish fiendish air-war, every casualty a civilian. I think the very name of Germany will be hated from henceforth ‘til the end of time.
I am frightfully tired today; not only could I not sleep last night, I could not control my trembling, and continuous trembling seems to exhaust the body as much as continuous work. Today, so far, has been quiet, though I can hear our planes zooming about now. When the moon rises at about one forty-five tonight I expect the slaughter will begin again. God help us!
March 20, 1941
We suffered another shocking night, but it slackened about one a.m. so we managed to get some good sleep. The main attack was on London. Four hospitals were bombed and a hostelry wrecked, besides many houses. We had over five thousand incendiaries on Romford last Saturday night. Yesterday it was Hall that got the worst attack.
The attack began early after tea yesterday. Mary Jude was here, and we began to think she would have to stay all night; however, in a fairish lull about eleven p.m. Ted was able to take her home. She is sleeping alone in their house, a very brave little girl, I think, especially as Carlton Road quite often gets hit. I have no news from Hammersmith, but presume all is well there or I should have been informed otherwise.
March 22, 1941
I have just been talking with the milkman who has been telling me of this week’s damage. Wednesday was the most awful night. Most of the damage was between Stratford and Aldgate. Coming this way, Ilford got eight land mines. Barking-Side, Canning Town, Eastham; frightful, frightful. In Stratford: Boardman’s, Roberto’s, the co-op, all down. These were tremendous shops, stretching for blocks. The milkman says the people from Canning Town, and hundreds of them, are up at their town hall, demanding that we bomb back at the people of Berlin. As soon as darkness falls, every night, they begin to tremble, raids or no raids. Yes. Oh, what a devil’s war this is!
London was quiet last night. B.B.C. stated in the early news that the main attack of the night had been on a town in the South West of England. This was probably Bristol. Thursday’s main attack was on Plymouth. It seems now the tactics are to concentrate on one big town each night, and wipe it out. Meanwhile the politicians soft-soap us.
We have queer weather today. It is a day of November like darkness. It was a day like the day when France fell. Oh God! Let time pass quickly! Bring us soon to the end of this hellish destruction and terror.
March 25, 1941 – Lady Day
Yugoslavia has signed the Tripartite Pact and become a partner of the Axis. I think this war can go on indefinitely. Country by country Hitler swallows Europe; his supplies will become inexhaustible.
Outside it is raining, so maybe we will have a quiet night tonight. We did have a quiet night last night, no raiders anywhere at all over Britain. The weather is queer, dark, like November. The Essex people call it blight, but who cares if blight means a night without the Germans? Last Sunday was observed as a National Day of Prayer, by order of the King. What good does that do? We have had several days of National Prayer, but Hitler strides on and on just the same, and prayer is never going to stop him.
Oh the damn foolishness of war, and the ineptitude of politicians! This world that men have made! Why bother God about it? If only men would get together to see how they could stop the war. Oh what fools men are, and how I hate them!
March 27, 1941
I wakened in the night from one of the most agonizing dreams I have ever had. I was weeping, and must have been crying for some time, for my pillow was wet from my tears. At bedtime Ted had loved me, and we had been happy together for a while. My last thoughts as I fell asleep on my own sofa were of Hitler. Hitler is reported to be a woman hater; certainly he is a bachelor, and one never hears rumors of him indulging himself with any ladyloves. It is supposed he is a frigid celibate. I was thinking, yes of course, he has to be, because if he could ever feel a manly or human tenderness he could not continue with his perpetual cruelties. Perhaps if he could love just one woman, perhaps then he could ease into normal manhood. Perhaps! Oh my God! The time Hitler makes us waste time thinking about him! So when I fell asleep I was assuaged and content, mind and body.
One o’clock news was good news. At two o’clock this morning the young King Peter threw over the traitor Yugoslav government and assumed control of his country. The army and all his people back him. Prince Paul, the former Regent, has fled, whereabouts not yet known. The two Cabinet ministers who went to Vienna to sign adherence to the Axis have been arrested. General Sinovitch has been charged by the young King with the formation of a new cabinet. There are efforts of popular rejoicings everywhere throughout the country. Churchill has answered this as “great news.”
“The Yugoslav Nation,” says Churchill, “has found its soul.”
The nine o’clock news was further good news. Keran, the Italian stronghold in Eritrea, has fallen, and Harar, the second city of Abyssinia, is also in our hands. So both Hitler and Mussolini have received severe setbacks today.
March 29, 1941
For months now I have been listening each weekday morning to the “Lift Up Your Hearts” and “Kitchen Front” talks from the B.B.C., and I want to say what rubbish they are. It is absolute rubbish and also impertinence.
To take “The Kitchen Front” series first. More often than not a man gives the talks. He will be either facetious or condescending. When women give the talks they are simply silly. Oh these are substitute dishes! They are so simply nauseating. Who does the B.B.C. suppose pays the slightest serous attention to them? The public knows jolly well what rations are, but it also knows what can and can’t be done in cookery. It jolly well knows you can’t feed the family a dessert of turnip pie, or milk your tea with oatmeal water.
There are straightforward and standard ways of cooking all known foods; why foozle them? Make an omelet for three people, says the B.B.C. with one egg, two tablespoons of breadcrumbs, and two tablespoons of milk and water. Well, that is not an omelet, nor will one egg make a breakfast for three people. What kind of fools do they take the public for? The food problem in Britain is damned serious all right, but we don’t fool ourselves that we are all fed when we are not. We will eat whatever is available, but we won’t fool ourselves that it is appetizing or satisfactory. We certainly won’t spoil what is available by trying to make it masquerade as what it isn’t.

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