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This letter, dated September 30th 1940, was written by Hilda Johnson to her cousin. Hilda was a doctor in London during the blitz. She was living in Golders Green Road, NW11, at the time.

My dear Dorothea,
I was glad to get your letter and to hear that you are all alright.
Poor old London. It would break your heart to see it now. Tussauds, the scene of our happy lunches was the first bad break in Marylebone. John Lewis has one whole block wiped out by fire and not much is left of the other. Eva (her sister) had her fir coat stored there in the vaults. They do not hold out much hope for her coat for though the vaults were fireproof they have probably been flooded! Our Town Hall in Marylebone has been hit but not too badly. Everywhere in town there are roads blocked, some temporary because of time bombs. Just before the war in London started our First Aid Post was moved from the Florence Nightingale Hospital up to the Health Centre higher up Lisson Grove. We are now between two very large power stations and are frequently getting bombs all round us but we have our own gun on top of the power stations and every time the creature comes anywhere near us off goes our gun. So far we have been all right.

The Florence Nightingale Hospital, which was shortly to be opened as a hospital again, was empty at the time when all the devastation began and was immediately commandeered by the government to house some of the homeless. It takes 150. I almost wept when I see it now, it looks too awful and all the good mattresses and blankets on the floor. The place is indescribably dirty and all the poor homeless sitting about with nothing in the world (most of them) except what they stand up in. It is a minor tragedy for me because I thought that I should have at least my hospital salary as a certain income through the winter as there is practically no practice at all now. I only get £75 a year for the first aid post and have to sleep up in Marylebone every night nearly except when I can manage to get a substitute. I slept at home two nights this week as our maid suddenly left us on Tuesday morning and returned to Cornwall as she could not stick it. At first we got much the worst of it in town but as the barrage increased more bombs have been dropped in the suburbs and in Golders Green we had quite a lot, including a land mine, which blew out the glass of all the shops along Golders Green Road. You never saw such a sight. Our house has escaped damage so far except for tiles off the roof and a few more panes of glass both caused by pieces of shell from our guns. I am trying hard to cultivate a real philosophical spirit, so that if it happens, I shall be able to bear seeing our house split in half or a mere heap of rubble. So far I have not achieved anything like complete success with this idea but am still struggling. I have seen so many other houses in such a state that it is almost impossible to imagine that they ever were houses. We live a very odd life in London now. By day we pursue our usual activities now though at first things used to be rather difficult as the shops shut and buses stopped running etc. when the air raid warning went. At night we nearly all go to bed in our clothes as we prefer to face what may come to us with some substantial garments between us and the world. Eva has a pair of slacks and I am going to get some too as they seem to be the most useful garments for night wear. I sleep in one of the treatment rooms in a bed that has to be put up every night and the windows are all boarded up so that the only way to get any air is to have the door open. It is wonderful how one gets used to anything. I never imagined I should go to bed in my clothes night after night. We still have our baths daily which keeps us somewhat civilized!
I get up in the night sometimes to see patients but not very often now. First Aid Post are really a wash out I think, by far the greater part of casualties are dead or seriously injured and go straight to hospital. I occasionally go out to the neighbouring shelters to see patients with my tin hat (very heavy) on my head. There is very little to do in the Florence Nightingale Hospital, which I find very depressing as one would not mind anything if one thought that one was doing useful work. The noise of the barrage is something terrific and kept one awake at first but it is amazing how one gets used to doing with much less sleep. I do not sleep in the day time now at all if I can help it as one sleeps better at night if one is dead beat. Last night I managed to sleep from about midnight till after 6 am straight off! Which is splendid even though bombs were dropped not very far off and the guns kept going off at times (I am told). The night before, I slept very little. What most of us mind most is what we call the ‘mosquito on the roof’ that is the engine of the plane overhead. Some nights this comes back and back nearly all night and then one waits for the sound of the bombs which may or may not come. Eva is now sleeping at the De Vries as she could not sleep in our house alone and we only have a daily maid now which is all one can get at present. Nearly everybody sleeps on the ground floor or else in cellars or shelters.
I am glad that you are having a quiet time in Oxford and I hope that it will continue. Have you any evacuees? Cheris will have to take some soon — she hopes to get medical students. This London life is very hard for children spending all night in the shelters, the atmosphere down there is sometimes appalling.
I’m afraid that this letter is very mixed up but I hope that it will interest you and give you some idea of the time through which we are passing. I do hope that some method can be found of dealing with the night bombers soon. Much love to all and write again soon.
Hilda
P.S. The casualties have not been nearly as bad as the authorities expected but the devastation is rather awful.

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