Being bombed can be fun.
Overlooked in discussions of the terror bombing of civilian populations by wartime combatants is the fact that being in a city undergoing such an attack can be a very enjoyable experience.
My friend Byrt was around 20 the first time he was bombed. A native of Berlin, Byrt was a skinny kid. His slenderness would later allow him to slip between the slats of the rail car that was taking him and his mother somewhere as guests of the German government [religious differences]. He was never to see his mother again.
He was first bombed on the evening of August 25th 1940. Byrt heard the noise as the city's defenses began to fire and ran up to the roof of the building where he was staying. He sat there and watched the first of many British night bombings of Berlin.
In later years, Byrt said that being bombed was great because it provided him with evidence that someone, somewhere was fighting his government and perhaps he had some small chance of survival.
In the end Byrt did survive and is, today, enjoying his retirement in the Northeastern US.