r got
up and dressed to enjoy the thrill of listening to the droning planes,
bursting bombs, and clattering shrapnel, or lay in bed, quietly taking
the whole matter with philosophical indifference. The danger signal came
as soon as the raiders crossed the East Coast, and then all was hubbub
and excitement in London until the "all clear" was sounded by that
gallant little--little in body, but big in heart--band of boys known as
the Boy Scouts, who were posted at every police station.

No doubt many of us felt a bit "windy" during these raids, but in the
presence of the other fellow we would not show it. Our buildings and
grounds, right in the heart of London, were most conspicuous; and,
besides, Regent's Park was not without its military importance, for in
it were kept the aerodrome stores. Its lake and the canal which runs
between it and the Zoo, made it a shining mark for the Hun bombers. But
we stood our ground fearlessly through all these raids, listening to the
din of this aerial warfare, awed not so much by the explosions as by the
bedlam created in the Zoo, where, as soon as a raid was on, the lions
roared, elephants madly trumpeted, monkeys chattered, parrots shrieked,
and wolves howled dismally.

CHAPTER VII

ROYAL VISITORS

St. Dunstan's was frequently visited by British aristocracy, but, by all
odds, the most interesting visitors were members of the Royal Family.
His Majesty, King George, dropped in on more than one occasion, just
like an ordinary citizen, without the usual frills and pageantry that
accompany Royalty. In his visit to St. Dunstan's he went through the
place without even an equerry in attendance. He showed a deep and
sincere interest in the training and work of the men. He seemed to be a
little sceptical about our ability as poultry-raisers. On one occasion,
when visiting the poultry-house while a class was being instructed, he
signified that he would like a practical test of the power of the blind
to distinguish different breeds of fowls. The attendant caught a bird
and handed it to one of the students, an Imperial officer, by the way,
and scarcely had he touched it before he correctly pronounced it a
Plymouth Rock. The King was still sceptical, and a second and third bird
were handed the demonstrator, and the birds were properly named. This
convinced His Majesty that, though blind, the men could "carry on" in
what seemed to him an incredibly difficult occupation for the sightless.