Read Online Beyond the Shadow of War by Diane Moody - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Diane Moody
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dancing.”
Sybil’s eyes went wide. “I beg your pardon?”
“No! No, not that — ”
“I should hope not!” Sybil joked.
“No! I only meant the clubs offered a lot more than just dancing. No, wait. That didn’t sound right either. Oh, brother. I’m digging myself in deeper, aren’t I?”
“Yes, so stop while you’re ahead,” Anya teased.
“I’m sure what you meant ,” Sybil said, “was that the Rainbow and other Red Cross Clubs offer other things like laundry services and first aid, and plenty of recreation like pool and pinball.”
“What’s pinball?”
Danny smiled as Sybil explained. “It’s just a silly game played on a machine, shooting all these little steel balls around, trying to hit little targets and rack up lots of points. I’ve never understood the passion for it, but the Americans are enraptured by it, playing for hours and hours.”
“Danny, do you play?” Anya asked.
“No, the two times I did, I was lousy at it. Never saw the point really.”
“But the Yanks come to the club for all sorts of reasons,” Sybil added. “We help the boys write home, play cards with them, or just listen to music. We’ve had some of the best bands play at the Rainbow. My favorite was the American, Glenn Miller.”
“Mine too,” Danny said. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
“What happened to him?” Anya asked.
“He joined the service so he could entertain the troops,” Danny said. “He and his Army Air Force Band played all over England until just before Christmas last year when his plane disappeared over the English Channel. It was never found.”
“I was working at the Rainbow the night it was announced,” Sybil said. “We were all crying. You’d think we’d lost a family member, and I guess, in a way we did. It was such a shock.”
“Was it ever,” Danny added.
Sybil wiped her eyes again. “Don’t mind me; I seem to be a never-ending bucket of tears today.” She tucked the hankie back in her pocket. “There now. All better.”
“Where to next?” Danny asked as they stood.
“That’s any easy one. Follow me.”
7
Stepping off the double-decker bus, Danny and Anya followed Sybil as she turned the next corner. Here and there, skeletal brick walls outlined empty foundations like so many ghostly footprints; the damage indiscriminate. As they rounded another corner, before them stood a magnificent cathedral beneath an enormous dome.
Sybil spoke quietly with reverence. “The Prime Minister said there was no greater symbol of British resilience during the war than St. Paul’s Cathedral. He said it had to be saved at all costs.”
“How could it survive when so many buildings around it were decimated?” Danny asked.
“To be honest, I know of no other explanation than divine intervention. The cathedral was damaged several times during the Blitz, and later as well. But thankfully, a group of men who called themselves the St. Paul’s Fire Watch stood guard around the clock, remaining on alert, particularly during the long months of the Blitz. They had installed tanks of water and kept pails at the ready near the more vulnerable parts of the domed roof you see up there. It’s quite extraordinary, how they protected the building and all its history.”
“Still, if the Germans had targeted the cathedral for a direct hit,” Danny said, “surely it would have been flattened like all these other buildings. I’d say divine intervention played a bigger part than those volunteers carrying buckets of water.”
“You’re right, of course. And that was true throughout the war, even after the Blitz.” Sybil shielded her eyes from the sun as she studied the dome again. “But you have to admit it looks like a beacon of hope against all the destruction around it. That’s why I wanted you both to see it.
“And here’s the irony,” she continued. “Before the war, you could never get a full view of the entire cathedral because all the
Sybil’s eyes went wide. “I beg your pardon?”
“No! No, not that — ”
“I should hope not!” Sybil joked.
“No! I only meant the clubs offered a lot more than just dancing. No, wait. That didn’t sound right either. Oh, brother. I’m digging myself in deeper, aren’t I?”
“Yes, so stop while you’re ahead,” Anya teased.
“I’m sure what you meant ,” Sybil said, “was that the Rainbow and other Red Cross Clubs offer other things like laundry services and first aid, and plenty of recreation like pool and pinball.”
“What’s pinball?”
Danny smiled as Sybil explained. “It’s just a silly game played on a machine, shooting all these little steel balls around, trying to hit little targets and rack up lots of points. I’ve never understood the passion for it, but the Americans are enraptured by it, playing for hours and hours.”
“Danny, do you play?” Anya asked.
“No, the two times I did, I was lousy at it. Never saw the point really.”
“But the Yanks come to the club for all sorts of reasons,” Sybil added. “We help the boys write home, play cards with them, or just listen to music. We’ve had some of the best bands play at the Rainbow. My favorite was the American, Glenn Miller.”
“Mine too,” Danny said. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
“What happened to him?” Anya asked.
“He joined the service so he could entertain the troops,” Danny said. “He and his Army Air Force Band played all over England until just before Christmas last year when his plane disappeared over the English Channel. It was never found.”
“I was working at the Rainbow the night it was announced,” Sybil said. “We were all crying. You’d think we’d lost a family member, and I guess, in a way we did. It was such a shock.”
“Was it ever,” Danny added.
Sybil wiped her eyes again. “Don’t mind me; I seem to be a never-ending bucket of tears today.” She tucked the hankie back in her pocket. “There now. All better.”
“Where to next?” Danny asked as they stood.
“That’s any easy one. Follow me.”
7
Stepping off the double-decker bus, Danny and Anya followed Sybil as she turned the next corner. Here and there, skeletal brick walls outlined empty foundations like so many ghostly footprints; the damage indiscriminate. As they rounded another corner, before them stood a magnificent cathedral beneath an enormous dome.
Sybil spoke quietly with reverence. “The Prime Minister said there was no greater symbol of British resilience during the war than St. Paul’s Cathedral. He said it had to be saved at all costs.”
“How could it survive when so many buildings around it were decimated?” Danny asked.
“To be honest, I know of no other explanation than divine intervention. The cathedral was damaged several times during the Blitz, and later as well. But thankfully, a group of men who called themselves the St. Paul’s Fire Watch stood guard around the clock, remaining on alert, particularly during the long months of the Blitz. They had installed tanks of water and kept pails at the ready near the more vulnerable parts of the domed roof you see up there. It’s quite extraordinary, how they protected the building and all its history.”
“Still, if the Germans had targeted the cathedral for a direct hit,” Danny said, “surely it would have been flattened like all these other buildings. I’d say divine intervention played a bigger part than those volunteers carrying buckets of water.”
“You’re right, of course. And that was true throughout the war, even after the Blitz.” Sybil shielded her eyes from the sun as she studied the dome again. “But you have to admit it looks like a beacon of hope against all the destruction around it. That’s why I wanted you both to see it.
“And here’s the irony,” she continued. “Before the war, you could never get a full view of the entire cathedral because all the