At a pub in Windsor people hastily set down their drinks, burst into tears, got up and scrambled for the doors. Housewives in Richmond, shopping on busy George Street, suddenly scattered like scared hens, lost their shopping lists, staggered tearfully home with nothing for their families' dinners. Near London's Liverpool Street Station, in the rush hour, weeping barmaids tried to serve hundreds of customers who lurched in as though half-seas over. They weren't, but they were gassed up. The A.R.P. was teaching the public a lesson. They had not been carrying their gas masks, and now tear-gas bombs were bursting around...
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