The Bombing By Fintan

The humidity was sweltering the people of london, while Paul chief of the royal fire fighting service was walking to the orphanage. He had been notified the day day before that the Germans were going to bomb London, probably at night. He had assembled the force so they were ready to deploy at the wave of his hand. Paul was going to the orphanage to see Timmy. Timmy was a little boy who Paul visited regularly. Paul had always wanted to adopt Timmy, as he was like a son to him, but Paul hadn’t settled in yet with a person to raise him. So Paul waited. He arrived at the front door and knocked three times.”Hello Mrs. Pete may I see Timmy?”        

“Oh yes of course Paul, he always enjoys guests!,” answered Mrs. Pete. “Any news about the germans?” she whispered.

“Yes they will come tonight probably”. Paul trod up the stairs and opened the antique door and into Timmy’s room. “Hello Timmy,” greeted Paul.

“Good afternoon Paul”. Timmy pushed his wheel chair forward to talk to him. They talked for a few hours about what was happening in their lives. Paul eventually decided it was time to get to the station, so he begain his trek back.

The German bomber planes flew silently through the british airfields. The radar tracked them down. A light started flashing on the tower so the radar monitor went to see what had been detected. “Commander?,” asked the radar monitor. 

“Yes? what is it?”

At this point the commander got flooded with calls from secret services, code crackers and radar scientists. They all came with the same message, the germans are coming.

“Um, sir?,” asked the deputy royal fire fighter service leader.

“yes?”, replied Paul

“We’ve just been notified that 20 German bombers planes are heading for London.”

Paul hopped off his seat and pulled out his walkie talkie.”Deploy all units! Fires should be starting soon!”. He ran out of the room hoping it wasn’t too late, took a group of tired looking fire men, jumped in a fire truck and set off for the orphanage.

London was in chaos. The streets had holes and were on fire, buildings exploded and people screamed. Paul raced towards the orphanage, ignoring the mayhem surrounding him. They arrived at the orphanage to see it as a blazing inferno of fire and wood. Paul witnessed Mrs.Pete running out of the building her frilly dress on fire. The youngest of the fire fighters poured a bucket of water over her and called an ambulance. Paul rushed into the building to find Timmy’s wheel chair lodged in between a rafter form the ceiling and the wall. Timmy was dead or unconscious. Paul hoped he was the second option. He pulled Timmy out of his wheelchair and took him outside choking slightly on some ash. “Timmy please wake up!” Shouted Paul, “please”.

Timmy never died he was in a coma for six weeks though. Paul found himself a beautiful wife called Sharon, they adopted Timmy and raised him as their own. 2 years later England won the war and all was well.