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W. Earl Hall World War II stories, 1944
Letter #24
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slug-Dover Most -4 By W. EARL HALL Globe-Gazette Managing Editor Letter no. 24 Dover, England -- (By U.S. Army Air Transport)--War's reality was impressed on me in a new way this afternoon when I stood on a chalk cliff near this most shelled spot in England and looked 21 miles across the channel at German-held Calais. I could, with the aid of field glasses, actually see the towering city hall in that city. Whether a spiral of smoke nearby was a part of the British-Canadian seige of the city, I haven't yet learned. I suspect this, however. The entire afternoon, following a 3 hour train ride from London, was spent here. As we drove about the area round [illegible]--our host, Tim Healy of nearby Turnbridge, kept observing: "That building to the right, the one with the fresh damage, was hit last night by one of Jerry's shells from the Pas-de-Calais implacements." On another occasion, he pointed out: "This hotel building seems to have been the Hun's aiming point." It had been hit several times and buildings in a line with it had taken a severe pounding. Being no hero, I wasn't sorry when we got out of that particular locality. I had in mind the fact that Jerry's guns were still aimed that way. And, different from flying bomb, shells give no warning whatever unless you chance to see the flash. In this event you can count to 60 before their arrival. Dover's children are still evacuated and thousands of her adults are still spending their nights in the 7 tunnel shelters in the chalk cliffs. These have sleeping accommodations for 7,000 and unlimited standing room. Incidentally thousands of Londoners are still going to subway shelters nightly even though bomb danger is declared past. After 5 years, it may be a habit. In our walk of many blocks through 2 of Dover's cavernous shelters, we were told that the tunnels had been started by smugglers centuries ago. They figured too in England's plans to repel a Napoleonic invasion. The tunnels are about 7 feet high and 8 feet wide. On the right side are 3-deck cots, hundreds of them and each assigned to a specified user. Each shelter has its own kitchen and a food supply sufficient to last a month. Heat, when it's needed, is supplied by electrics coils. Each tunnel has 2 exits, insuring adequate ventilation. Dover's civilian defense director, A. J. Fenn, has a fully-equipped communications center. In the more than 5 years since the bombing and shelling of [illegible] started, Mr. Fenn hasn't been off his job for as much as an hour -- and it's a 24-hour a day assignment. His faithfulness to duty has won the high praise of his townsmen and with authorities associated with him. The shelters are provided with a medical center and nursing service. Proof that the English were prepared for any contingency is contained in an amazing array of equipment designed to cope with gas. "We'd rather be safe than sorry," Mr. Finn explained. At the mouth of one of the shelter-caves was 13-year-old boy, totally blind. He was sunning himself. A hand grenade brought to school by one of his playmates had brought tragedy to him. Getting children to observe the rules of safety has been one of the war's chief problems, I was told. A chapel on the road to Folkestone, near Dover, bore this cornerstone inscription: "Bombed 1910; Rebuilt 1920." Two more lines are going to have to be add ed some day: "Bombed 1940; Rebuilt 1946." This little wrecked church seemed to me to be the symbolic of the cruel fate visited on [illegible] by its geography. From the very day Calais was occupied by the Germans, an artillery duel has been under way between the 2 cities which scowl at each other from their respective chalk cliffs. In those 4 years the Dover area has had a total of 3,016 alerts -- the signal to citizens to seek shelter. There have been 160 shellings and the same number of air attacks, including more than a few robot bombs. No other city in all history has been called upon to undergo such an ordeal as this. Figuratively surely, if not literally, Calais' fall will mean "bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover."
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slug-Dover Most -4 By W. EARL HALL Globe-Gazette Managing Editor Letter no. 24 Dover, England -- (By U.S. Army Air Transport)--War's reality was impressed on me in a new way this afternoon when I stood on a chalk cliff near this most shelled spot in England and looked 21 miles across the channel at German-held Calais. I could, with the aid of field glasses, actually see the towering city hall in that city. Whether a spiral of smoke nearby was a part of the British-Canadian seige of the city, I haven't yet learned. I suspect this, however. The entire afternoon, following a 3 hour train ride from London, was spent here. As we drove about the area round [illegible]--our host, Tim Healy of nearby Turnbridge, kept observing: "That building to the right, the one with the fresh damage, was hit last night by one of Jerry's shells from the Pas-de-Calais implacements." On another occasion, he pointed out: "This hotel building seems to have been the Hun's aiming point." It had been hit several times and buildings in a line with it had taken a severe pounding. Being no hero, I wasn't sorry when we got out of that particular locality. I had in mind the fact that Jerry's guns were still aimed that way. And, different from flying bomb, shells give no warning whatever unless you chance to see the flash. In this event you can count to 60 before their arrival. Dover's children are still evacuated and thousands of her adults are still spending their nights in the 7 tunnel shelters in the chalk cliffs. These have sleeping accommodations for 7,000 and unlimited standing room. Incidentally thousands of Londoners are still going to subway shelters nightly even though bomb danger is declared past. After 5 years, it may be a habit. In our walk of many blocks through 2 of Dover's cavernous shelters, we were told that the tunnels had been started by smugglers centuries ago. They figured too in England's plans to repel a Napoleonic invasion. The tunnels are about 7 feet high and 8 feet wide. On the right side are 3-deck cots, hundreds of them and each assigned to a specified user. Each shelter has its own kitchen and a food supply sufficient to last a month. Heat, when it's needed, is supplied by electrics coils. Each tunnel has 2 exits, insuring adequate ventilation. Dover's civilian defense director, A. J. Fenn, has a fully-equipped communications center. In the more than 5 years since the bombing and shelling of [illegible] started, Mr. Fenn hasn't been off his job for as much as an hour -- and it's a 24-hour a day assignment. His faithfulness to duty has won the high praise of his townsmen and with authorities associated with him. The shelters are provided with a medical center and nursing service. Proof that the English were prepared for any contingency is contained in an amazing array of equipment designed to cope with gas. "We'd rather be safe than sorry," Mr. Finn explained. At the mouth of one of the shelter-caves was 13-year-old boy, totally blind. He was sunning himself. A hand grenade brought to school by one of his playmates had brought tragedy to him. Getting children to observe the rules of safety has been one of the war's chief problems, I was told. A chapel on the road to Folkestone, near Dover, bore this cornerstone inscription: "Bombed 1910; Rebuilt 1920." Two more lines are going to have to be add ed some day: "Bombed 1940; Rebuilt 1946." This little wrecked church seemed to me to be the symbolic of the cruel fate visited on [illegible] by its geography. From the very day Calais was occupied by the Germans, an artillery duel has been under way between the 2 cities which scowl at each other from their respective chalk cliffs. In those 4 years the Dover area has had a total of 3,016 alerts -- the signal to citizens to seek shelter. There have been 160 shellings and the same number of air attacks, including more than a few robot bombs. No other city in all history has been called upon to undergo such an ordeal as this. Figuratively surely, if not literally, Calais' fall will mean "bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover."
World War II Diaries and Letters
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