The myth nevertheless tells only part of the story of how people reacted to the bombing campaign and how they coped with its consequences. There was no simple linear pattern of social and psychological response – remarkable quiet courage, class solidarity, stolid resilience – but instead a vast patchwork of responses determined by a rich array of situational and dispositional factors. Unsurprisingly, there were profound distinctions in the capacity of individuals to cope with the mental pressures of disaster, as the research in Hull later demonstrated. There were also clear differences of geography, not only between small towns bombed only once or major cities bombed more than fifty times, but between a small self-contained urban area with one city centre, where the shock of destruction was often very great, and a large conurbation more able to absorb the disaster, shelter the homeless and provide alternative amenities. There were evident social differences dictated by contrasts in wealth and opportunity. Better-off or more educated households were able to buy more assistance, drive out of bombed cities, stay with friends in houses large enough to absorb the influx, replace lost or damaged possessions and navigate the complex system of post-raid administration. Workers in most cases lacked those choices, social skills, material advantages and time, and as a result suffered disproportionately from the consequences of bombing. Finally there were differences over time. The reaction of populations bombed repeatedly was observably different from a community hit for the first time. Home Intelligence reports by October 1940 noted a more cheerful outlook in London because raids were less frightening ‘once you have got used to them’. A post-Blitz analysis of morale produced by the Air Ministry put ‘conditioning’ high on the list of factors that helped people cope. A survey showed that between the first London raids on 7 September and the end of the month the number of Londoners claiming to get no sleep fell from 31 to 3 per cent, while two-thirds said they could sleep at least four hours despite the bombing outside.200
These many contrasts make it difficult to construct an aggregate account of popular behaviour and moral outlook during the Blitz that does not distort this diversity. Nevertheless, a number of broader conclusions suggest themselves. Almost all contemporary accounts of bombing show that the immediate reaction among the bombed population (including a number of civil defence and medical personnel) was one of shock, disorientation, fear and anxiety. The experience of being bombed was a physical and psychological challenge of an extreme kind. One woman who lived through the first raids on London (and refused to take shelter) tried to describe the experience in a letter a week later:
we were very frightened… Sunday night was the limit. No sleep was possible, crashes came from all sides and then suddenly the most brutal shattering roar… I cannot describe to you what a curious note of brutality a bomb has… The screaming bomb I can cope with… its noise doesn’t sound to me as appalling as the noise of high explosive.201
There were evidently extremes of fear and panic at the moment of the raid itself, and it would be remarkable if the reaction had been very different among an untrained and poorly protected population, though it was also far from universal. The letter-writer’s three maids were said to turn up each morning from the shelter ‘amazingly courageous and unruffled’. In the Hull survey 349 bombed housewives were asked what they considered the worst aspects of a raid, and despite the long-term traumatic effects from which they suffered, 286 identified the actual moment of bombing as the worst – the whistling noise of the bombs, the roar of aircraft engines overhead and the explosion of landmines. Only 20 picked out fear for the family, and 17 the burning ruins and scenes of devastation.202
Almost all official accounts acknowledged that the initial reaction to a raid was one of ‘despondency’ or ‘depression’ or ‘confusion’, but experience showed that the demoralization and loss of nerve was always temporary, even if the psychological scarring lasted longer. The initial shock was also local, even if the shock-waves rippled out to the surrounding area. The government scientist Patrick Blackett concluded in his analysis of morale in August 1941 that ‘people who are not being bombed do not worry too much about those who are’.203