When was london bombed

British intelligence had had an inkling of the coming bombardment. Evidence of the large-scale movement of German barges in the Channel and the interrogation of German spies had led them to the correct conclusion-unfortunately, it was just as the London docks were suffering the onslaught of Day One of the Blitz.

By the end of the day, German planes had dropped tons of bombs on London. Even though civilian populations were not the primary target that day, the poorest of London slum areas-the East End—felt the fallout literally, from direct hits of errant bombs as well as the fires that broke out and spread throughout the vicinity.

Four hundred and forty-eight civilians were killed that afternoon and evening. A little past 8 p. A state of emergency broke out in England; even home defense units were put to the ready.

They would not run or be cowed into submission. They would fight. But if you see something that doesn't look right, click here to contact us! On September 7, , 50 women—one representing each state of the United States—prepared to be judged on their beauty by millions of eyes across the country, in the 41st annual Miss America pageant. But this year would be different. From October 5, the German raids took place only at night and the British defences of anti-aircraft guns and night fighters could not stop them.

However, British planes went on bombing raids to Germany, attacking factories, cities and towns - especially the capital, Berlin. Although many places in Britain were badly damaged during the Blitz, German bombing did not stop war production or force Britain to surrender. Over 30, British people were killed during this period - over half in London, which was bombed almost every night. The Blitz ended in mid-May , when much of the German air force was sent east to prepare for the invasion of Russia.

The government did what it could to foster an egalitarian spirit. Rationing was mostly equitable. Most adults got 66 coupons to use for new clothing each year. One evening, Churchill was driving into the country when a major bombing campaign began to hit London. He had the car turn around so that the people could see their prime minister sharing the danger.

His visits to bomb-devastated neighborhoods were among his most important public acts, along with his occasional bouts of openly weeping among the people. In national crises, a sort of social and psychological arms race takes place.

The threat—whether bombings or a pandemic—ramps up fear, unpredictability, divisiveness, fatalism, and feelings of weakness and meaninglessness. Nations survive when they can ramp up countervailing emotions and mindsets. This happens when countries take actions, even if only symbolic ones, that make frightening situations feel more controllable and predictable.

This happens when they foster social solidarity by paying extreme attention to fairness. This happens when they intensify social connection and create occasions for social bonding and shared work. Societies that build resilience do not hide behind a wall of happy talk or try to minimize the danger. Resilience does not come from mindless optimism, or from people telling one another to be calm amid the turmoil.

Resilience is built when people confront a threat realistically, and discover that they have the resources to cope with it together. Resilience is built when people tell a collective story about the danger that places the current terror they are facing within a larger redemptive context.

What was once a scary threat to be avoided, releasing a surge of destructive cortisol, becomes a challenge to be met, releasing a cascade of adrenaline.

During the Blitz, the British told a story about themselves that shaped their reaction to the experience and that shapes their self-perception to this day: They are at their best when their backs are to the wall, they are at their best when they are alone as a nation, and their national strength comes from their ability to be funny and phlegmatic during a crisis. When I began researching the Blitz, my sense was that Americans today have it much easier than the Brits did then, despite the ravages of the coronavirus pandemic.

Like the bombing campaign, the virus induces cascades of fear—the fear of possible death, the fear of the random extinction of our neighbors and loved ones, the fear of job loss and economic collapse, the fear that our future may be altered in unknowable and terrible ways.

Evolution equipped us to deal with short bursts of terror, such as getting chased by a lion, not to cope with long, unrelenting months of stress. Nor did it equip us to remain cooped up for extended periods like this.

Isolation, fear, and stress send the autonomic nervous system into overdrive, and weaken the immune system. The social-distancing measures we are taking to avoid the coronavirus make us more susceptible to it when it comes. A study by the Russell Sage Foundation found that what makes societies resilient during a crisis are high levels of faith in institutions, high social trust, high levels of patriotism and optimism, and high levels of social and racial integration.

The United States that confronts the coronavirus pandemic has catastrophically low levels of all these things. Worse, unlike the Blitz, this pandemic deprives us of the thing social resilience needs most—close physical and social connection with one another. In America, the pandemic finds a country that has already seen a recent tripling of the number of people suffering from depression, a sharp increase in mental-health issues of all varieties; a sharp rise in suicides, and record levels of tribal hostility and polarization.

The dread and isolation that COVID causes threaten to exacerbate all this, to drive people even farther apart. And then, most challenging of all, there is the question of national morale.

In , Britain faced a uniquely evil foe.