IC-Ep 1-The Shelter(Everyone else)
Posted: Sun May 14, 2017 2:41 am
St. James's Church - London, England
8:30 PM - Saturday, September 7, 1940
There were several people sitting in the air raid shelter in the basement of St. James's Church in Ratcliffe, in East London. The first bombs had fallen in the late afternoon, with the most intense period of bombing between five and seven o'clock. Currently there was a lull in the bombing, though the all clear had not yet sounded. London had until tonight been almost entirely spared, but now the war had come home, and there was no telling when or how it would end.
Lord Rufus Colville sat on a spare pew kept here for storage, reading a newspaper. As a civil servant in the foreign office, he had watched the world situation grow worse and worse from a front row seat, and war had come in spite of his best efforts. Now the war was here, just over their heads. He had had a meeting at a Chinese teahouse in the East End with a Chinese diplomat this afternoon and had arrived a bit early, just in time for the sirens to go off. The foreign diplomat had not yet arrived, and the staff had directed him to this nearby shelter, assuring him that they would tell the man he was due to meet where to find him if he arrived. However, he had not come. Perhaps he had still been en route to the teahouse when the sirens had sounded. If he had taken the Tube, he would not have been permitted to surface and would have had to shelter in an Underground station.
A pretty young lady with blonde hair named Laura, a secretary who worked in an office building not far away, sat in one of the few comfortable chairs that had been brought down here. She had been extremely frightened throughout the raid, wincing every time a bomb fell. Two old women sat in the only other chairs near her. Mrs. Phyllis Cruckshank and Mrs. Maggie Duncan were both elderly widows with oversized handbags, in the neighborhood doing charity work for the Women's Institute. Both of them carried themselves with an air of imposing will. In contrast to Laura, neither of them showed any trace of fear. Phyllis also had a hefty iron umbrella, which rested within easy reach.
Archie Pennyweather, Royal Navy Chaplain, sat on a pew beside the elderly rector of the church, Giles Curry. He had been visiting the church when the sirens had begun, and the rector had shown him down to the shelter. Next to them was Benjamin Klein, an old tailor whose home and place of employment had been nearby. Today had been the sabbath, so he had not been working at the tailor shop. The sun had set by now, which meant that the sabbath was over.
There was also a handsome man in his thirties, Seamus O'Leary. He had been down at the docks arranging a deal for a portion of a shipment of food that had come in on a ship. He would not have had to spend any ration points on it, a convenience he would have passed on to his customers (though with a sizeable markup). Unfortunately, Jerry had decided to pay a visit and interrupted his business. Or perhaps fortunately, if the shipment had been destroyed in the bombing, as he had not yet paid for it.
8:30 PM - Saturday, September 7, 1940
There were several people sitting in the air raid shelter in the basement of St. James's Church in Ratcliffe, in East London. The first bombs had fallen in the late afternoon, with the most intense period of bombing between five and seven o'clock. Currently there was a lull in the bombing, though the all clear had not yet sounded. London had until tonight been almost entirely spared, but now the war had come home, and there was no telling when or how it would end.
Lord Rufus Colville sat on a spare pew kept here for storage, reading a newspaper. As a civil servant in the foreign office, he had watched the world situation grow worse and worse from a front row seat, and war had come in spite of his best efforts. Now the war was here, just over their heads. He had had a meeting at a Chinese teahouse in the East End with a Chinese diplomat this afternoon and had arrived a bit early, just in time for the sirens to go off. The foreign diplomat had not yet arrived, and the staff had directed him to this nearby shelter, assuring him that they would tell the man he was due to meet where to find him if he arrived. However, he had not come. Perhaps he had still been en route to the teahouse when the sirens had sounded. If he had taken the Tube, he would not have been permitted to surface and would have had to shelter in an Underground station.
A pretty young lady with blonde hair named Laura, a secretary who worked in an office building not far away, sat in one of the few comfortable chairs that had been brought down here. She had been extremely frightened throughout the raid, wincing every time a bomb fell. Two old women sat in the only other chairs near her. Mrs. Phyllis Cruckshank and Mrs. Maggie Duncan were both elderly widows with oversized handbags, in the neighborhood doing charity work for the Women's Institute. Both of them carried themselves with an air of imposing will. In contrast to Laura, neither of them showed any trace of fear. Phyllis also had a hefty iron umbrella, which rested within easy reach.
Archie Pennyweather, Royal Navy Chaplain, sat on a pew beside the elderly rector of the church, Giles Curry. He had been visiting the church when the sirens had begun, and the rector had shown him down to the shelter. Next to them was Benjamin Klein, an old tailor whose home and place of employment had been nearby. Today had been the sabbath, so he had not been working at the tailor shop. The sun had set by now, which meant that the sabbath was over.
There was also a handsome man in his thirties, Seamus O'Leary. He had been down at the docks arranging a deal for a portion of a shipment of food that had come in on a ship. He would not have had to spend any ration points on it, a convenience he would have passed on to his customers (though with a sizeable markup). Unfortunately, Jerry had decided to pay a visit and interrupted his business. Or perhaps fortunately, if the shipment had been destroyed in the bombing, as he had not yet paid for it.