The city was never quiet. Ever since the first bomb fell on August 24, 1940, the cries of revelry that echoed after a long day, were replaced by the screaming in terror as the world fell apart all around us. The first few nights were chaos and the noises were ringing in Lila’s ears despite her shaking hands clamped heavily over them. Now, the booms and shrieks are like the white noise of a fan. 

Lila slunk through the streets, keeping to the shadows enjoying the relative quiet as there weren’t any bombs currently pounding on the house above. She had been up and down the street just this week, helping to fortify people’s homes or giving them some safe place to go when their world was being destroyed but after the most recent hit in the area, it wasn’t clear if it helped at all. 

She slowed as she came across Joy and Phil’s house, now a pile of rubble. The young family flashed in front of her eyes accompanied by tears. They had a baby on the way, baby Charlie was already loved by everyone but Podo, their attention seeking german shepherd. Lila’s heart ached as she approached and started the slow, despairing search through the remains of the house. She was going across what once was the kitchen, trying to make her way to the secured basement room, when she heard a yell for help. 

She immediately ran toward the sound, leaping through a hole and into the street. The calling continued but was getting fainter causing Lila to speed up. She began to search the area, lifting debris as she heard the man’s final call slightly to her right. She managed to find the incapacitated man half buried so that even if Lila was standing on top of him, she might not have seen him. She slowly got the man out and struggled to lift him. While he was lean, he was also  tall and she would need help to get him back to base where he could be treated. 

Now, she had to make a decision. Would she leave the young man to fend for himself until she could rediscover him with help? Or would she stay with him until he hopefully came to consciousness? She decided she could spare ten minutes of her night to wait before disrupting another person’s search.

 As she waited, she continued looking for others leaving a bright marker on top of the man so she could easily get back to him if needed. Lila’s always been observant and now she puts her keen eyes to use, looking for any sign of life. However, if there was anyone else in the building, they were buried underneath pounds of detritus. 

Finally, she began to go in the direction of headquarters when she heard a low cough. Lila rushed back to find the man struggling only for him to halt as she came into view. Relief showed through his dirt crusted face. She crouched down beside him and did her best to help him to his feet. 

“Alright, I know this is hard but I need you to help me out here. If I don’t get you up and back to headquarters, I can’t promise I’ll be able to come back,” She said, still pushing him up and allowing him to lean most of his weight on her. 

He only responded with a rasping cough but she continued coaxing him one step at a time. They had only traveled about a block when his knees began buckling and her grasp on him was almost lost. She tightened her hold and hissed in his ear, “If you go down now, we both know you won’t be getting back up. Now stand straight and keep putting one foot in front of the other, because I won’t have you dying on my conscience.”

She knew she was being harsh but it was all she could do to keep herself standing under most of his body weight. He hadn’t seemed this big when he was lying down, but standing, he was almost twice her height and she could feel that he definitely had more muscle than his wiry frame suggested. 

Street by street, they drew closer to the base. Luckily, the man seemed slightly more steady and was able to hobble well enough without nearly crushing her. Finally, they reached headquarters, just another building, only slightly more stable than its surroundings. The basement or bomb shelter was where Lila’s group would all reconvene for the night. 

Their branch was small but Lila knew that there were dozens of groups, going out and helping, and together they made a movement. She set him up against a wall and got to work getting supplies to stitch the man back together. 

It wasn’t until she returned with their medical supplies that the man was able to talk. 

“Who are you?” His words were a strained whisper.

She sat in front of him and began looking him over before answering, “Lila, I’m a part of a group called The Women’s Voluntary Services, and you should be safe here.” 

While she worked on him, she quietly explained how they had formed shortly after the first bombings and how they worked to make London a slightly safer place. Lila had never enjoyed silence and one story led to another as she described the many children she had gotten out of London. This went on until he was fixed completely, eating an apple, and still listening to Lila ramble on about herself. 

Finally, Lila realized that she had never gotten his name and decided to ask. 

“I’m Donald Fitz, and before you share anything else, I want to thank you for saving my life,” his voice was kind but teasing and Lila found herself smiling at him. 

She had seen so many horrible sights on these streets and it was easy for despair to press in but this made it worth it, a person, living and breathing all because of her.