The Day The Bomb Came

In Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plymouth_Sound

Hello all. I hope you are well. Here in Plymouth, we have been living with a surfeit of excitement this week. At the beginning of the week, a resident of Plymouth was digging down to sort some foundations for an extension, only to come across an unexploded WW2 bomb. Now, Plymouth's position as a target for bombs during the war means that this is not a completely unknown experience. In fact, only last week there was a full-on Hoo-Hah at the hospice shop in the City Centre because someone found a hand grenade at the bottom of a carrier bag full of donated clothes. Fortunately, it had been made safe already but the ladies in the shop got a bit of a fright. Probably just someone thinking the hospice could make a few bob out of it. 

Anyway, back to the bomb. We were all quite relaxed about it until we found out that it was over a thousand pounds of live explosive which could take out a row of houses in a nanosecond. Cue lots of people in berets with trousers tucked into boots arriving in military vehicles. They immediately swung into action and ordered everyone in the surrounding area to leave their homes immediately. The only immediate thing to follow was three people sitting in the library drinking tea, playing Jenga and complaining. 

This was also a big night for Spotlight News. Victoria is more used to reading stories about the Babbacombe Model Village or bantering with the weatherman about whether the reservoirs are full. (Trust me - they are.) However, she pluckily rushed down to the cordon and positioned herself next to the van serving tea and biscuits to the crowds. And there she remained, in the pouring rain, interviewing the great and the good including the people in the library who had dwindled down to two now because one of the ladies had gone home because she was worried about her cat. You might get the impression that people in Plymouth were not taking this quite as seriously as they should and you would be right.  To be honest, people just wanted them to get on with it and they were, in the main, unimpressed by shouty men telling them how dangerous it was. As we said at work. It never took this long in Danger UXB. Anthony Andrews rushed in with a pair of wire clippers, smoked a woodbine, sweated a bit and snipped the wire. Bob's Your Uncle. 

However, we were told in no uncertain terms that this wasn't Hollywood and there would be no snipping of the blue wire here. Victoria then interviewed local politicians including a nice lady from Plymouth City Council who was desperately trying to find places to put 3000 people which was the estimate of the number of people that needed to be moved should anyone feel the need to try doing as they were asked for a change. Then Victoria spoke to one of our MPs, Luke Pollard. They call him Limelight Luke around here. I was going to put a tenner on him to be the first gay Prime Minister until I found out Wes Streeting was gay. Not that I approve of gambling. (Actually, as usual, I must be scrupulously fair. I've done some work with Luke and the nice lady from the Council and they are alright actually and they do work like dogs).  

After a lot of discussion Bomb Disposal informed Natalie (who had replaced Victoria who was soaking wet after 2 days under an awning in the pouring rain) that they were going to move the bomb and detonate it out at sea. This would mean evacuating approximately 10,000 people and cutting off the water and the power. This horrified one lady in the library who had tropical fish. 

We were all then able to access a map of the route, showing us where the bomb was going and which roads were to be closed. This kept the ladies in the office tittering all afternoon. No idea why. 

The City Council made use of the national alarm system which sent a warning through everyone's mobile phones and frightened the living daylights out of us all. This told us that they were moving the bomb that afternoon and to stay away if we knew what was good for us. 

HOH was slightly concerned about where it was going to be blown up. The last thing he wanted was a huge explosion underwater - loosening even more sewerage in his swimming area. Because we are British, the people in the know decided that the best thing to do was to move the bomb onto a low loader, and cover it with about 50 sandbags and this would be completely sufficient. So the lorry set off with little fanfare and even less fuss carrying a huge lethal weapon. This kind of thing makes me want to stand up and sing Land of Hope and Glory. 

In the end, it was detonated well out at sea and apparently just made a "plipp" noise on the surface and Plymouth went to the pub, shored up by the knowledge that Grant Schapps was proud of us all. Hmm.