The Battle of Britain Five Months That Changed History, May—October 1940 by James Holland (z-lib.org).epub

who was flying Tom’s Hurricane. And unlike Nicolson, King was dead.
The relentless interruptions to daily life caused by air raid sirens were
quickly becoming a feature of everyday life in Britain. On 16 August, Cecil
Beaton, now taking photographs for the Ministry of Information, was
leaving London early in the afternoon, and heading home to Ashcombe, his
house in the south-west corner of Wiltshire. The train had barely reached
the outskirts of the city, however, when the sirens went. Calmly, the guard
wandered along calling for all blinds to be put down. Above, Cecil and the
other passengers heard thumps, bangs and distant crumps as the Luftwaffe
bombed Biggin and Kenley. Barely anyone looked up or even batted an
eyelid. In silence, they continued reading or staring into space. ‘The English
are an extraordinary people,’ he jotted later. ‘Their genius for
understatement goes deep. They behave in an incredibly calm way in the
face of disaster. Imagine a carriage as ours filled with Latins! The screams!
The hysterics!’
Near Malden, Cecil pulled the blind and had a quick peep outside. All
seemed quiet but a huge plume of black smoke was curling into the sky.
When they then inched their way into Malden, the station was an untidy
mess, with glass all over the place and the roof blown in. Nearby, a house
was on fire. Then the all-clear sounded and Cecil watched those who had
been taking shelter now emerge, laughing, waving and giving the thumbsup.
He followed a number of people who now got off the train and trooped
on to the line to inspect the damage. ‘The usual story of bricks, cement dust,
broken glass,’ noted Cecil, ‘bomb craters amongst the runner beans and
rambler roses.’
Cecil had already seen more bomb damage than most. The week before,
he had been sent to Newcastle by the Ministry of Information to photograph
bomb damage. A particularly powerful photograph had been of a threeyear-old
girl called Eileen Dunne, who had been hit by a bomb splinter.
With a bandaged head and clutching her doll, her wide eyes showed a
mixture of childish fragility and defiance. Now he had some more
commissions, this time of troops on Salisbury Plain; it was a good
assignment, since he could base himself at Ashcombe for a change.
Eventually, they got going again, although the train had to be routed via
Southampton because of bomb damage at Basingstoke, caused when the