Historical Phots of Londoners Sheltering in the Underground During the World War II

Between September 1940 and May 1941, the German Luftwaffe carried out a relentless bombing campaign against London and other British cities. Known as the Blitz, the campaign targeted residential areas, factories, and dockyards. More than 40,000 civilians were killed across England, nearly half of them in London alone. Over a million houses were destroyed. Night after night, Londoners of every class faced the same terrifying reality: bombers overhead and nowhere safe to go — except underground.

The London Underground stations became the most vital communal shelters the city had. Londoners had used them for the same purpose during the First World War, but in 1939 the government banned sheltering in the Tube. Officials feared the crowds would disrupt commuter and troop movement, and that people might simply refuse to leave. When the bombing intensified in early September 1940, those concerns gave way to reality. Station entrances had been locked during raids, but within two weeks of sustained bombing, the government reversed course and ordered them opened.

Stations opened to sheltering civilians at 4:00 p.m. each day, and people formed orderly queues to get in. By mid-September 1940, around 150,000 people were sleeping in the Underground each night. On September 27 alone, the count reached 177,000. A census conducted in London in November 1940 found that 4% of residents were using the Tube and other large shelters, 9% used public surface shelters, and 27% sheltered in private homes. The remaining 60% stayed in their own houses, despite the bombing.

The deeper stations were the most sought-after. Their depth muffled the sounds of explosions above, making it easier to sleep. But no station was entirely safe. In October 1940, a direct hit on a shelter in Stoke Newington killed 160 civilians in a single strike. In March 1943, a deadly crowd surge at Bethnal Green tube station killed 173 men, women, and children after a woman fell on the steps and the crowd behind her collapsed forward.

The platforms and tunnels filled with people lying on blankets, coats, and whatever else they could carry. Escalators became makeshift sleeping areas when the platforms ran out of room. The scenes were densely packed — entire families side by side, elderly women propped against walls, children curled up in corners. A baby tucked into a packing case at Piccadilly Underground station was not an unusual sight.

By October 1940, the government had constructed new deep shelters inside the Underground with capacity for 80,000 people. The heaviest period of bombing had already peaked before those shelters were finished, but upgrades to existing stations continued through the end of 1940. Authorities installed stoves and bathroom facilities. Canteen trains ran through the tunnels, delivering food to shelterers. Tickets were issued for bunks in larger shelters to cut down on the long queues that formed each afternoon.

The Salvation Army and the Red Cross established committees inside the shelters to manage conditions and support those in need. The shelters also became social spaces. Concerts, plays, and film screenings were organized. Local libraries sent books. People read, played cards, sewed, drew, and sang — activities that filled the hours between sirens and the all-clear signal.

London County Council teachers ran classes inside shelters in Bermondsey and other boroughs. Children attended art lessons, drawing pictures while bombs fell above ground. Adults joined craft sessions — sewing and making slippers — as part of organized programs meant to keep shelter life structured and purposeful.

Shelters also appeared above ground, in the basements of department stores, restaurants, and other buildings. Diners at the Hungaria restaurant on Lower Regent Street simply bedded down on the floor when raids began. Workers at Dickens & Jones on Regent Street sheltered in the store’s basement, where one employee, Sadie Davis, sang to keep spirits up. The Salvation Army ran its own shelters in areas like Clapton in east London, where women, girls, and babies crowded into organized spaces.

Some children were evacuated out of London entirely. Toddlers were sent to the countryside, including to a 15th-century mansion in Kent, where their health was checked upon arrival. Those who remained in the city shared shelter space with strangers. Photographs from October 1940 show the full range of shelter life: elderly women asleep against walls, young women reading magazines, men playing cards, mothers tending to infants, and children sleeping in hammocks strung up in shelter corners.

Despite the scale of the bombing, the Blitz produced no psychiatric crisis among Londoners, even during its most intense weeks in September 1940. The bombing was devastating, but the psychological toll, which pre-war planners had expected to be catastrophic, did not materialize as feared. People adapted — sleeping on platforms, sharing food from canteen trains, and going through nightly routines as the city shook above them.