I remember back before the war. It’s been years since then but I can still remember. I dream about it most nights and I wonder if this war will ever end. I know that wars always end but this war is all I’ve ever known. I remember we had a dog, my family and I that is. He was a huge dog, twice my size before the war. I remember he used to tackle me and lick my face. I used to laugh so hard. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. When the first raid came we were unprepared. Some of us had shelters but we really had never expected to use them. None of us had expected them to attack the people. None of us thought they would have the gall to murder like that. That’s what it was, murder, not war. We were not a military target, killing us held no strategic gain except to incite panic. Anyway, the first time the bombs fell my brother and I were playing table tennis on top of our “shelter.” It was really just a table with some pillows and blankets under it. I didn’t think it looked like it could protect us from anything. When we heard the sirens we clambered under the shelter and our parents quickly joined us. I’d never heard the bombs before or the planes and I latched onto my mother for support. I hadn’t done that for years. Then I remembered our dog. I scrambled to get out of the shelter and to get him in here with us but my dad held me back. I never saw that dog again. The bombing seemed to go on forever. I didn’t have a watch and I wouldn’t have thought to keep track of time anyway. Then the raid stopped. We all looked around, uncertain if it was really over. No one moved. We were all too afraid of what was outside. The four of us sat in silence for what must have been close to the next two hours and then the siren went again. I buried my face in a pillow and began to cry. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die. After a few hours my brother fell asleep but I couldn’t. I just stared at the wall hoping that it would just end and that everything would be alright. Then a bomb hit and our house crumbled on top of us after the detonation. I screamed as my entire world shook and the explosion tore at my eardrums. Pieces of the house thumped against the top of our shelter and I flinched every time. My brother was awake again and we all stared at the wreckage around us. I thought now that they had destroyed our house they would stop but they didn’t stop. The bombs kept falling for hours, through the night and into the morning. When they finally stopped I knew that I hadn’t slept at all. We pushed through the rubble and out into the streets. We weren’t the only ones who were devastated by the attack. There was a lot of destruction. I’d always tried to imagine what it was like but I had never thought anything like this. We weren’t the only ones in the streets, confused and unsure where to go. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t feel like a dream but I just couldn’t make the connection between the rubble behind me and my former home. My parents brought us to our aunt and uncle’s house. They had a smaller house than we had had. I was pretty sure they didn’t really like us but they probably felt like they had to bring us in. They were really reluctant to offer us any extra amenities than were completely necessary. The government wouldn’t let anyone into the underground stations and my aunt and uncle, like us, didn’t have any raid shelter. We cowered every day and every night in that tiny house, hoping that we didn’t get hit again, for almost two weeks. Finally the government let us use the tubes and we felt a little safer. The first night in the tubes was eye-opening. There were thousands of people in the underground stations and I looked at my parents for support. Everyone huddled together out of necessity in order to make room for everyone else. No one complained. I slept next to men and women and children that I had never seen before that night as the bombs dropped from overhead. It was the first time since the bombing started that I felt at least a little safe. I was beginning to get used to the idea of the planes every night. They weren’t giving up but neither were we. Every time I woke up and left the underground station I found the city in a worse state than the night before. I always wondered if anyone I knew had died and if they had been my friends. At the time I couldn’t imagine that the war would last that much longer; it seemed to have lasted an eternity already. Sometimes I woke up and thought I was back at home but then I saw all of the people around me and remembered. Sometimes I cried and sometimes I didn’t. The raids continued, night after night, and I was starting to hate the tube. I thought that if I survived this that I would never use the tube again when it was all over. If I survived this. I’d never considered an idea like that before. When I looked around everyone seemed really strong and proud. My dad said it was to show the Germans that they couldn’t get to us. I tried to be like my dad and put on a strong face but I just couldn’t understand it. The people in those planes above us couldn’t see our faces anyway. They could get to us anyway. I heard people talking about how many people had been hurt or killed the night before. Still, we all pressed on without hesitation. My brother and I went to school in shelters while the threat of another air raid existed. I didn’t understand why we had to go at all anymore. At first I don’t think any of us really tried to learn when we went. It was like trying to be normal when there was no being normal at all anymore. After a few weeks it seemed like it might never stop and so we attempted to focus a little more. I enjoyed hating going to school. I had hated going to school before the attacks started and hating it after the attacks made me feel connected to that old life. So I complained and argued that I didn’t want to go to school but I really did want to go. After 11 weeks we had been bombed every day except for one. At least that’s what I was told. I couldn’t remember a night when we hadn’t been attacked. The attacks had slowed down since and my dad decided that now would be a good time to go on the move. We left London behind and ended up in a U.S. army camp. I don’t know why we went there but with all those soldiers around me I really felt safe. I watched them all the time and noticed that plenty of them weren’t that much older than I was. I wondered what it was like to be a soldier, even after coming from a battlefield. Sometimes I felt homesick. Not for London, I didn’t miss London. I felt homesick for life before the war. I felt homesick for a London that wasn’t missing my home and thousands of other homes. I felt homesick for my dog and my table tennis and my friends and my old life. The Yanks had a mess hall and a jeep and all sorts of things. I always used to go down to the mess hall and get a piece of bread and put ketchup on it. It might not sound like a delicacy but food had been rationed in London. We had only gotten two ounces of margarine and one egg a week. Plus I had never seen ketchup before. I think that’s why I really liked it, because it was foreign. I used to visit the wounded G.I.’s and talk to them. Sometimes I would steal apples from the farmers nearby and give them to the soldiers. My dad hated when I did that and I got throttled more than once but it was worth it to see them smile. Sometimes they could even make me smile again. A lot of the time I felt like I had two lives, me before the war and me when the war started. There were happy times before the war and now here in this American camp maybe I could have happy times again. One day I saw some of the Yanks driving around in their jeep and stood off timidly to the side. One of them called out to me and then told his friend to get in the back. He patted the seat next to him and beckoned me to join them. I looked around for my dad and then jumped into the jeep with them. They drove around for a while and it was the coolest thing I’d ever done. They had things to do and I just smiled as the wind whipped across my face and I forgot about everything. I forgot about the war and I forgot about the bombs and I forgot about London. The soldier driving grinned at me as we came to a bridge. He told me to hold on tight as he accelerated. All four wheels left the ground as we flew through the air for what must have been a split second but felt longer. I couldn’t contain it and I laughed in delight. The first laugh since the raids began and I felt my stomach tingling. I asked if we could do it again, my face still shining with the laugh. He said on the way back. Maybe I’m not so homesick afterall.