A Bomb Raid
Jen Barham, Grade 9, Genesis Christian School
Excellence Award in the 'Legendary 2012' competition
I heard the air raid sirens ring out, as I fled the house with my 2-year-old brother, Thomas in my arms. My mother, Shirley, was close on my heels. I stumbled as I flew towards the bomb shelter, and Thomas squirmed. He was clinging to me as I ran. I, being 17, was the eldest Hale child.
It was the 27th of October, 1940. I lived in the Port of London with my mother and brother, and we were currently being raided by the Nazi bombers again. We should have been used to this by now, as it had been almost a nightly occurrence since that fateful night, almost 2 months ago when it all began.
My father and two sisters died in the first bombing of London, along with many others. I was not coping well at all, but my mother was destroyed by the news. I have been thrust into what should have been her role, and I was the one who looked after my brother.
'Mary! Run faster!' Mama cried as we heard the drone of planes approaching. Finally, we reached the shelter, and ran down the stairs. I found a corner for us to settle in as we prepared to wait for the all-clear.
I studied my family as we huddled together in our corner. We were drawn, pale and haggard.
The first bomb was dropped. The sound was incredibly loud, and Thomas started crying. I soothingly patted his back and hummed a lullaby as Mama cried quietly. Our eyes met over Thomas' head, and I saw the pain and grief in her eyes as she remembered the first bombing. It brought tears to my eyes, but I wiped my face before she saw them.
Thomas reached up and started playing with the locket around my neck, and he drew my gaze towards him. I smiled, and he gave a little, cute grin.
As I looked over at Mama's tear-streaked face, I couldn't help but wonder when it all would end. Not only the current bombing, but the war, the grief, the terror and the tears. It felt like it was a long way off...