Barbara's favorite plane to fly became the Spitfire because she could turn over so fast in one of them. Still a stunt pilot at heart, one day she followed in her Spitfire as two Royal Air Force pilots flew theirs under a bridge over the river Avon in Bristol, west of London.
A few days later while trying the stunt alone, she was startled to see that the distance between the bottom of the bridge and the water under it looked a lot smaller than it had before. Then she realized what it was: the tide had come in and the water had risen under the bridge. Too late to pull away, she held her breath as she flew the Spitfire safely under and then up and away from the bridge.
Training to fly in the ATA was intensive and took most of her time. When off-duty, Barbara and several others, all billeted at the Savoy Hotel, explored London, or what was left of it after several months of Nazi bombings. She became expert at walking through shattered streets, stepping around craters where bombs had dropped and exploded, and over fire hoses as London's heroic firemen fought to put out yet another building on fire, whether it be a house, green grocer's shop, movie theater, museum, a hallowed historical landmark, a church, or cathedral.
More than a few times, a bobby or senior citizen member of the Home Guard cautioned Barbara to avoid a UXB, one of the hundreds or more unexploded bombs that had been dropped on the city but, most often, intentionally had not blown up on impact. Devious German bomb technicians had rigged the explosives so they would not explode on impact but later, at the slightest touch or if someone accidentally stepped on one. They became constant reminders that a horrible death was only a step or touch away.
One night, an 800-pound bomb almost six feet long landed in front of the steps to St. Paul's Cathedral and did a nose-dive into the ground, but failed to explode. A team of firemen drew it up to the surface and took it by lorry to Hackney Marshes where it was exploded and made a crater a hundred feet across. King George VI decorated the firemen with the new George Cross for their heroism.
Londoners were relieved that, so far, the cathedral had been spared, although another favorite landmark but less sacred lay in ruins after only two nights of blitz. Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum and its cinema were demolished and many of the seats flew over the roof of nearby Baker Street Station. There was still something to laugh at because Hitler's nose was chipped off his wax statue, and Goering's immaculate white uniform was covered with dust. The head of Mary Queen of Scots remained on the executioner's block, but her body was blown across the room into the tableau of Kings and Queens.