In November 1940, readers of the Shamokin News-Dispatch in Shamokin, PA opened their paper to a first-hand account of the London Blitz, sent from a woman living beneath the German bombs then falling on the British capital during World War II.
The letter came from Alice Watts, chief telephone operator in Streatham, a neighborhood on the south side of London, and it had traveled thousands of miles to reach Pennsylvania’s Coal Region.
Watts had written to her sister-in-law, Dorthea Watts, a Shamokin native then living in New York City. Dorthea passed the letter to her sister, Leslie Lichtel of Market Street, who still lived in their hometown. Both women were daughters of Daniel Stroh, Sr., a well-known Shamokin musician. It was through Lichtel that the letter found its way into the local paper, giving Coal Region readers a window into a war still more than a year from reaching American shores.
What they read was not a cheerful letter, and Watts said as much herself. She described a city under nightly assault: sirens screaming every night, anti-aircraft guns that rattled her house, whole streets left in rubble and craters. She wrote of a bomb that wrecked fifteen houses on a single road, of incendiary bombs that set every garden ablaze until neighbors swarmed from their shelters to smother them with sand, and of the strange fatalism that settled over Londoners as the raids went on night after night.
A bomb either had your name on it or it didn’t, she reasoned, so she went on sleeping in her own bed on the top floor and waited to see whether she would live to see morning.
It is not a cheery document, but it is a powerful one. More than eight decades later, the letter still bears witness to the deliberate Nazi campaign to break a civilian population from the air – and to the ordinary nerve of the people who endured it.
Here’s the full story.
From the Shamokin News-Dispatch, November 13, 1940:
Letter From London Describes Bombings
Conditions in bomb-wrecked England and the stoicism of the British are revealed in a letter received by a former Shamokin woman, Mrs. Dorthea Watts, New York City, from a sister-in-law living in Stratham, London, England.
Through the courtesy of Mrs. Leslie Lichtel, Market Street, a sister of Mrs. Watts, the letter containing a first-hand account of war conditions in England was secured for publication in the News-Dispatch. Mrs. Lichtel and Mrs. Watts, sisters, are daughters of Daniel Stroh, Sr., widely known Shamokin musician.
The writer of the letter from England is Miss Alice Watts, chief telephone operator in Streatham. Full text of the letter follows:
My Dear Dorthea:
It was good to have a letter from you, and I hope you thoroughly enjoyed your vacation. It must have been a great trip, and I expect the change and rest did you a lot of good.
Well, I think in all my previous letters I have said that I hardly knew there was a war in progress.
I certainly know there is one now, and I can only describe it as hell.
It is just 8:00 at night and the sirens sounded about 10 minutes ago. The guns are making the house shake, the ornaments rattle, and you cannot imagine the terrific noise the guns make. I can best describe it as like a heavy, incessant thunder storm.
The sky is lighted by flashes and the whole place is rocked by the explosions. You would be horrified if you could see London now. You cannot walk five minutes in any direction without seeing several houses and shops in ruins, their windows blown out.
Last week Pitcairn Road was almost demolished by a land mine. Many people, of course, were killed and some injured. About 15 houses were absolutely wrecked and probably 50 others in Pitcairn and adjacent roads are uninhabitable. Dozens of others have every window missing, ceilings down, etc. It is pitiful to see.
The week previous to that there was a land mine dropped in another part of Mitcham and did far worse damage, dozens of houses and ships being wrecked and a couple of hundred badly damaged.
Almost every night during the past three weeks bombs have been dropped in Mitcham, damaging houses and shops. Fortunately for mother and father, Tom and family their house was at the further point so they escaped with merely being shaken and losing every window and many ceilings. Not a door will close properly.
I took mother down to Dunstable the next morning directly I knew of what they had gone through, and today father has gone to Dunstable with the furniture. They are going to live there permanently and you will hear all about it when they are settled in. Tom’s two children have been evacuated to Devonshire in the west of England.
Nell had to leave her flat for over 10 days on account of a delayed bomb that was dropped in the garden. Luckily it was proved to be a dud, so it did not explode and was eventually taken away. But Balham has suffered almost as badly as Mitcham, and in every direction when you look from Nell’s flat are ruins of houses and ships.
So far Streatham has not suffered to any great extent, but it was very thrilling and terrifying one night when I heard German planes overhead and the anti-aircraft guns crashing away at them. Suddenly I heard a peculiar swishing noise, and then the whole world seemed ablaze.
The Germans had dropped a load of incendiary bombs, and in every garden and in the roadways, back and front as far as the eye could see were blazing bombs. It really was a most marvelous sight and I wish I were gifted with the pen so that I could give a better description.
In this road there were at least 150 bombs. The people were wonderful, for in a very few seconds they swarmed from their cellars and bomb shelters and threw sand on the bombs. Very quickly all were under control.
Fortunately, where I live all the gardens are large and the roads fairly wide, so that very few bombs actually fell on the houses. Two houses were almost gutted by the fires and another two were badly damaged. Also, of course, in several roads nearby there are houses almost demolished by bombs and there are great craters in the roads.
I have been without gas for nearly three weeks now and I forgot what a hot meal is, but I have an oil stove, boil water for tea, etc.
It is a slow process, but I must not complain as so many poor devils have lost their homes entirely and many are without water, electricity, or gas. We can scarcely get any telephone calls through or send telegrams. No bus service of any account, since few cars can keep to their proper routes because of the havoc to the roads.
I went up west to Oxford Street last week and it really is awful to see the damage and destruction to beautiful buildings and shops. Regent Street is also badly scarred – and so it goes on.
It is a sight to see the people at dusk and much earlier, taking their places for the night in shelters and on the underground platforms. It is really ghastly, for the people in the East End of London have had a terrible experience. You cannot possibly imagine it, and I cannot describe it.
Personally I still sleep in my bed every night. It is on the top floor. The other people in the house sleep in the cellar, which is very big and extends right under the house. But it is too cold for me down there, and in any case I don’t fancy being buried under all that debris if a bomb should strike. I am very much a fatalist. I feel if a bomb my name on it I shall get it wherever I am. I must confess, however, that it makes me feel a bit shaky sometimes as I lie in bed and hear the planes fly back and forth overhead almost every night.
Now and again I hear a bomb scream through the air and the house absolutely rocks. You hold your breath, expecting the building to collapse about you, and then it rights itself and you realize that it is not your turn yet, but that someone else got that particular bomb.
A few minutes ago a bomb whistled down and it is a dreadful sensation. This goes on every night and all night from about 8:00 until 6:00 the next morning. With the incessant roar of our guns it is impossible to sleep, and you lie in bed wondering if you will live to see another day. What a world.
I am afraid this is anything but a cheerful letter. Still we keep smiling, for it cannot last forever.
The enclosed newspaper cuttings will show you a little of the damage. Do you remember Burlington Arcade? Of course those big shops stand up to the bombing so much better than small private houses.
Cheerio.
Affectionately,
ALICE.
Read more about the London Blitz and World War II
Exploring the history of “The Blitz” that devastated London in 1940-41 | Travel
The Blitz – Stories from the Royal Air Force Museum in Great Britain
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