Letter from a Witness to History: A Fictitious Account by a WWII Bird

June 12, 1945

Dear Future Generations,

I write to you from the battered rooftops of London, where I, a humble pigeon named Percy,
have witnessed events that will shape the course of history. My feathers, now grey with the soot
of war, have carried me across the skies during one of the darkest periods humanity has known:
the Blitzkrieg.

It all began on that fateful day in September 1940. The Luftwaffe, with their iron birds, darkened
the skies over London. From my perch atop St. Paul's Cathedral, I saw the first bombs fall. The
once serene city, with its bustling markets and children playing in the parks, transformed into a
landscape of chaos and destruction. Buildings crumbled like sandcastles, and fires raged,
painting the night sky a ghastly red.

As a pigeon, my role was simple but crucial. I carried messages from one side of the city to the
other, a lifeline in a world torn apart by war. I remember vividly the faces of the soldiers and
civilians as they read the messages I brought—hope, despair, love, and loss, all contained in
those fragile pieces of paper.

One night, amidst the cacophony of sirens and explosions, I flew over the Thames. The reflection
of the burning city in the river was a sight I shall never forget. It seemed as though London was
aflame in the heavens and on Earth. Yet, amidst the devastation, there was a remarkable
resilience. People emerged from the rubble, helping one another, sharing what little they had, and
singing songs of defiance and hope.

The spirit of Londoners was unbreakable. I saw children playing in the streets the morning after
a raid, their laughter a stark contrast to the destruction around them. Women queued for water
and food, sharing news and offering support to those who had lost everything. Men worked
tirelessly to repair what they could, their resolve as strong as the stone walls of the ancient city.

One particular night stands out in my memory. It was during the Christmas Blitz of 1940.
Despite the continuous bombardment, families gathered in the shelters, singing carols and
exchanging gifts. The bombs fell, but the spirit of Christmas prevailed. I watched from above as
a small choir sang "Silent Night," their voices rising above the din of war. In that moment, I
understood the true meaning of courage and resilience.

As the war dragged on, I saw many friends perish—both human and avian. Yet, each loss only
strengthened my resolve. I was determined to carry on, to be a small part of the resistance against
the tyranny that sought to engulf the world in darkness.

Now, as the guns fall silent and the city begins to rebuild, I reflect on the lessons learned during
those harrowing years. I have seen the worst of humanity—the cruelty and destruction that war
brings. But I have also seen the best—the kindness, bravery, and unyielding spirit that defines us
all.

To those who read this letter, know that the horrors of war are real, but so too is the strength to
overcome them. Cherish peace, value each other, and never forget the sacrifices made by those
who came before you.

With hope for the future,

Percy the Pigeon

A Witness to the Blitz