The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

The Royal Oak sank.
She was a Royal Navy battleship. She was torpedoed by a German
submarine while anchored off the coast of Scotland, and 833 of the over
twelve hundred men on her died. We heard about it on the radio, which we
listened to most nights.
The next Saturday Susan decided to take us to the movies. It was the first
time Jamie and I had ever been. We sat down on the plush seats, like our
purple chairs at home, and before we knew it the whole wall in front of us had
become a giant moving picture. Music played, and a man’s voice started to
talk about the war.
I’d thought we were going to watch a story, not stuff about the war. Other
than the silly posters and the sandbags that lay piled near some of the road
intersections, you’d hardly know there was a war. Hadn’t been any bombs.
But now here was a picture of an enormous ship, rolling onto its side while
black smoke poured out of holes in its hull. The picture was so big and so
horrible, and it got worse when the solemn voice talking about the Royal Oak
said that over a hundred of the dead were young boys. I looked at Jamie
sitting on Susan’s other side. “I want to go home,” I whispered.
“Shh,” Susan said. “The newsreel will be over in a minute. Then they’ll
show the story.”
“I want to go home,” I said, more loudly.
“Don’t start,” Susan said.
“Don’t start,” Jamie echoed.
I didn’t. But I plugged my ears and I shut my eyes, and I stayed that way
until Susan nudged me to let me know the story picture was starting. Even
then I couldn’t quit thinking about the burning ship and the boys that died.
I had nightmares from the pictures. Jamie wet the bed, but he always did,
every night still. I had dreams of fire and smoke and being tied to my chair,
my little chair in our flat at home. I couldn’t walk and I couldn’t move, and I
screamed. Jamie woke and cried and Susan came at a run.
“So, that was a little too overwhelming?” Susan said the next morning. She