They came just after dark
Shortly after the sirens wailed I
Could hear the planes grinding overhead
In my room, with its black curtains drawn across the windows
You could feel the shake from the guns
The motors seemed to grind rather than roar
And to have an angry pulsation
Like a bee buzzing in blind fury
As we stepped out onto the balcony a
Vast inner excitement came over all of us
An excitement that had neither fear nor
Horror in it, because it was too full of awe
The whole horizon of a city lined with great fires – scores of them
Perhaps hundreds
There was something inspiring just in the awful savagery of it
Into the dark shadowed spaces below us while we watched
Whole batches of incendiary bombs fell
Then quickly simmered down to pinpoints
Of dazzling white, burning ferociously.
All around below were the shadows
The dark shadows of buildings and bridges
That formed the base of this dreadful masterpiece.
These things all went together to make the most hateful
Most beautiful single scene I have ever known
(Correspondence of the London blitz by Ernie Pyle)