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QUENTIN REYNOLDS: I'm speaking from London. It is late afternoon and the people of London are preparing for the night. Everyone is anxious to get home before darkness falls. Before our nightly visitors arrive. This is the London rush hour. Many of the people at whom you are looking now are members of the greatest civilian army ever to be assembled. These men and women who have worked all day in offices or in markets are now hurrying home to change into the uniform of their particular service.
The dusk is deepening. Listening crews are posted all the way from the coast to London, to pick up the drone of the German planes. Soon the nightly battle of London will be on. This has been a quiet day for us. But it won't be a quiet night. We haven't had a quiet night now for more than five weeks. It'll be over tonight. They'll destroy a few buildings and kill a few people, probably some of the people you are watching now. Now they're going into the public shelters. This is not a pleasant way to spend the night. But the people accept it as their part in the defense of London. These civilians are good soldiers.
Now it's eight o'clock. Jerry is a little bit late tonight. The search lights are in position. The guns are ready. The people's army of volunteers is ready. They are the ones who are really fighting this war. The firemen, the air raid wardens, the ambulance drivers. And there's the wail of the banshee. The nightly siege of London has begun. The city is dressed for battle. Here they come. Now the search lights are poking long white inquisitive fingers into the blackness of the night.
These are not Hollywood sound effects. This is the music they play every night in London. The symphony of war. That was a bomb.
The very young and the very old--with that deep wisdom given only to the very young and the very old--sleep in the shelters. Do you see any signs of fear on these faces? Now the army of the people swings into action.
The bombs have started fires. The bomber starts a fire, he immediately returns, uses it as a target, and drops more bombs, hoping to spread the fire. Yet the people's army ignores the bombs and the shrapnel which rains down constantly. Brokers, clerks, peddlers, merchants by day, they are heroes by night.
The night is long. But sooner or later the dawn will come. The German bombers are creatures of the night. They melt away before the dawn and scurry back to the safety of their own airdromes. And there's the wail of the banshee again, this time a friendly wail. The all-clear signal tells us that the bombers have gone. It's just six a.m. and this last hour of precious sleep the strange new world finds peace.
London raises her head, shakes the debris of the night from her hair, and takes stock of the damage done. London has been hurt during the night. The sign of a great fighter in the ring is can he get up from the floor after being knocked down. London does this every morning. London doesn't look down upon the ruins of its houses, upon those made homeless during the night, upon the remains of churches, hospitals, workers' flats. London look upwards toward the dawn and faces the new day with calmness and confidence.
The people's army go to work as they did in that other comfortable world which came to an end when the invader began to attack the last strongholds of freedom. Not all the services run as they did yesterday. But, London manages to get to work on time one way or another. In the center of the city the shops are open as usual. In fact, many of them are more open than usual.
Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels said recently that the nightly air raids have had a terrific effect upon the morale of the people of London. The good doctor is absolutely right. Today the morale of the people is higher than ever before. They are fused together, not by fear, but by a surging spirit of courage, the like of which the world has never known. They know that thousands of them will die. But they would rather stand up and face death than kneel down and face the kind of existence the conqueror would impose upon them. And they know, too, and are comforted by the thought, that England is not taking its beating lying down. They are guarding the frontiers of freedom. It is hard to see five centuries of labor destroyed in five seconds. But London is fighting back.
I am a neutral reporter. I have watched the people of London live and die ever since death in its most ghastly garb began to come here as a nightly visitor five weeks ago. I have watched them stand by their homes. I have seen them made homeless. I have seen them move to new homes. And I can assure you there is no panic, no fear, no despair in London town. There is nothing but determination, confidence, and high courage among the people of Churchill's island.
And they know that every night the RAF bombers fly deep into the heart of Germany, bombing munition works, airplane factories, canals, cutting the arteries which keep the heart of Germany alive.
It is true that the Nazis will be over again tomorrow night, and the night after that, and every night. They will drop thousands of bombs and they'll destroy hundreds of buildings and they'll kill thousands of people. But a bomb has its limitations. It can only destroy buildings and kill people. It cannot kill the unconquerable spirit and courage of the people of London. London can take it.
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