The Long Flight Home

It wasn't a miracle. You believed. And made it happen.

Be an egg, Susan thought. One could be soft with fear inside, but hard as slate outside.

He wondered how long it took to recover from losing a loved one. One year? Ten years? A lifetime?

Too bad the Nazis aren't vampires, Ollie thought. At least with vampires, they could be deterred with holy water, crosses, and cloves of garlic. But with Nazis, we need antiaircraft guns, Hurricanes, and Spitfires. Ollie glanced back at the lofts. And maybe pigeons.

Ollie watched the cemetery disappear in the distance and wondered if there would be enough trees in all of Britain to build the coffins.

Of wartime London: It looked as if London was being cremated, one piece at a time.

Up there, I feel like a bird- even better, a pigeon.

I adore their cooing, which, in my opinion, is even more soothing than a cat's purr.

Despite the destruction of the city above them, the Londoners were doing their best to go about their lives, if not for themselves, for the children.

For centuries, animals have been relied upon during times of war.

These pigeons are going to help us win the war.

One could be soft with fear inside, but hard as slate outside.

I challenge you to name another animal that can find their way home from hundreds of miles away.

The entire beach fortification was a deception. All of the pillboxes, guns, and soldiers were fake. The only thing that was real, it appeared, was the razor wire.