Eleanor in the Blitz
Letter from Eleanor Kyle to her parents in Worthing, September 12th, 1940 written while staying at 3, Grosvenor Square, London. (Added comments are in italics.)
This seems a good opportunity to get a few lines written. As you see, I’m in Town and at present submerged in a most undignified manner (in the underground during an air raid). There are very few of the people one used to know down here and they are not very inspiring. They have all provided themselves with beds and they are not in the least helpful or friendly to such as I! However, I’ve taken the dining-room chair and can make the best of it tho’ unless it gets very bad, I think that I will retire upstairs again. I don’t in the least mind taking that chance for one night. I really only came down because I’m so terrified of having to come downstairs in the dark. Stairs frighten me by day-light and I was an age coming down tonight . . . .The whole atmosphere down here is terrible and so panicky and the noise is mainly our A.A. fire which is so helpful really.
Later – I am on my bed now and much more comfy, there is a nasty looking fire Paddington way, and I hope it’s not the Station. Well, you’ll want to know why I came up I expect (from Portsmouth where she was a VAD). I arrived with a convoy and got permission to stay the night as I wanted to see Roger. One hears such awful rumours and from these accounts Edgware Road was razed to the ground and the Regal and Marble Arch flattened. It is complete nonsense of course but I was so glad to hear the Roger had gone to Worthing. Miss Murmer and I had quite a chat on the ‘phone and she misses his cheerful presence. Poor old Queen’s Road has had a bomb if not more than one. I am so thankful that Cousin Jess is not here. (This was one of Maggie Wight’s sisters likely called Cousin Jess to distinguish her from Auntie Jessie (Kyle) who was also called Auntie Juanita. Jessie Wight had the flat In Grosvenor Square.) It’s out of the question her going down to the basement and I should be most nervous were we here together.
The deadly silence between the attacks is very eerie and they have some new big guns in action which I’ve not heard before. The people are so wonderful - I can’t describe the feeling one has in the streets, but the emptiness of the shops etc. is tragic and I can’t think how the little shops manage at all. There is scarcely anyone in uniform to be seen, they are all away and ready for the invasion. All leave for us has been cancelled (and in all hospitals) so I’m doubly lucky. They have discharged all possible cases from Fairfield and so many have volunteered immediately without even having seen their families since they left for France. They are wonderful because they are not really fit. At the same time we feel rather strongly that they should be sent out to leave room for old women who are ridden with innumerable unspeakable diseases. Poor things one shouldn’t feel this I know but they’d be happier in another life. Thank goodness B2 (my ward) is remaining a military one for the present anyway so we still have our nice sailors etc.
There is a terrific air-battle going on now seemingly over-head and tho’ I‘d love to watch I know one mustn’t – and that’s mostly a good excuse because I doubt whether I’d have the nerve! I still haven’t been in bed since Friday (this is written on a Thursday!!) and tho’ by day I have to use match-sticks to prop my eyes open, I’m always fine at night. We have had some sad cases of Nurses who have had to rush home as their parents have been killed or are missing or seriously injured and with mails so delayed it is worrying for many but I always have faith in the “no news being good” and “bad news travelling fast” and I’m also lucky in being used to not living at home and in times like these that must help. I’m so glad you are all together (in Worthing) and now I know for sure you are safe as I just couldn’t help being a little worried for Rodge. Now it’s our darling Nance (in Chile) we must think of and try and send her waves of good news about London and all. It must be harder for her than for us.
We had an amusing experience with a Mess(erschmidt) 109. It dived out of the clouds and as we were returning from lunch (the warning had sounded) and flew so low right over us. Some of the men were out by the hedges and they are not used to having no protection and they instinctively fell on their faces or ducked. I was stuck to the ground and all I could think was “It’s going too fast to drop a bomb!!” They got it 12 miles away, I’m sure it intended doing something and our uniform was a marvellous target, and if we had been 3 storeys high instead of huts it would have skimmed the roof.
I wish I could see Jess. Tunbridge Wells is not the best place and I would like her to be near someone. If only that hotel in Worthing had a lift. I know one should stay put but I hate her being alone. I’d like to see her to find out how she feels about it. I was saying a prayer that something could be fixed up for her.
If you get this you’ll know that I’m, all right so don’t worry. I must try and sleep now (there is a terrible silence suddenly) as I’m working tomorrow afternoon and night. Such hugs to you all. In a way I’m so glad I’m here tonight because I know they’ll never kill London.
XOXOXOXO Elenita.
This seems a good opportunity to get a few lines written. As you see, I’m in Town and at present submerged in a most undignified manner (in the underground during an air raid). There are very few of the people one used to know down here and they are not very inspiring. They have all provided themselves with beds and they are not in the least helpful or friendly to such as I! However, I’ve taken the dining-room chair and can make the best of it tho’ unless it gets very bad, I think that I will retire upstairs again. I don’t in the least mind taking that chance for one night. I really only came down because I’m so terrified of having to come downstairs in the dark. Stairs frighten me by day-light and I was an age coming down tonight . . . .The whole atmosphere down here is terrible and so panicky and the noise is mainly our A.A. fire which is so helpful really.
Later – I am on my bed now and much more comfy, there is a nasty looking fire Paddington way, and I hope it’s not the Station. Well, you’ll want to know why I came up I expect (from Portsmouth where she was a VAD). I arrived with a convoy and got permission to stay the night as I wanted to see Roger. One hears such awful rumours and from these accounts Edgware Road was razed to the ground and the Regal and Marble Arch flattened. It is complete nonsense of course but I was so glad to hear the Roger had gone to Worthing. Miss Murmer and I had quite a chat on the ‘phone and she misses his cheerful presence. Poor old Queen’s Road has had a bomb if not more than one. I am so thankful that Cousin Jess is not here. (This was one of Maggie Wight’s sisters likely called Cousin Jess to distinguish her from Auntie Jessie (Kyle) who was also called Auntie Juanita. Jessie Wight had the flat In Grosvenor Square.) It’s out of the question her going down to the basement and I should be most nervous were we here together.
The deadly silence between the attacks is very eerie and they have some new big guns in action which I’ve not heard before. The people are so wonderful - I can’t describe the feeling one has in the streets, but the emptiness of the shops etc. is tragic and I can’t think how the little shops manage at all. There is scarcely anyone in uniform to be seen, they are all away and ready for the invasion. All leave for us has been cancelled (and in all hospitals) so I’m doubly lucky. They have discharged all possible cases from Fairfield and so many have volunteered immediately without even having seen their families since they left for France. They are wonderful because they are not really fit. At the same time we feel rather strongly that they should be sent out to leave room for old women who are ridden with innumerable unspeakable diseases. Poor things one shouldn’t feel this I know but they’d be happier in another life. Thank goodness B2 (my ward) is remaining a military one for the present anyway so we still have our nice sailors etc.
There is a terrific air-battle going on now seemingly over-head and tho’ I‘d love to watch I know one mustn’t – and that’s mostly a good excuse because I doubt whether I’d have the nerve! I still haven’t been in bed since Friday (this is written on a Thursday!!) and tho’ by day I have to use match-sticks to prop my eyes open, I’m always fine at night. We have had some sad cases of Nurses who have had to rush home as their parents have been killed or are missing or seriously injured and with mails so delayed it is worrying for many but I always have faith in the “no news being good” and “bad news travelling fast” and I’m also lucky in being used to not living at home and in times like these that must help. I’m so glad you are all together (in Worthing) and now I know for sure you are safe as I just couldn’t help being a little worried for Rodge. Now it’s our darling Nance (in Chile) we must think of and try and send her waves of good news about London and all. It must be harder for her than for us.
We had an amusing experience with a Mess(erschmidt) 109. It dived out of the clouds and as we were returning from lunch (the warning had sounded) and flew so low right over us. Some of the men were out by the hedges and they are not used to having no protection and they instinctively fell on their faces or ducked. I was stuck to the ground and all I could think was “It’s going too fast to drop a bomb!!” They got it 12 miles away, I’m sure it intended doing something and our uniform was a marvellous target, and if we had been 3 storeys high instead of huts it would have skimmed the roof.
I wish I could see Jess. Tunbridge Wells is not the best place and I would like her to be near someone. If only that hotel in Worthing had a lift. I know one should stay put but I hate her being alone. I’d like to see her to find out how she feels about it. I was saying a prayer that something could be fixed up for her.
If you get this you’ll know that I’m, all right so don’t worry. I must try and sleep now (there is a terrible silence suddenly) as I’m working tomorrow afternoon and night. Such hugs to you all. In a way I’m so glad I’m here tonight because I know they’ll never kill London.
XOXOXOXO Elenita.