In WW II, a British fire bomb hit the house of my mother’s family. The bomb penetrated the roof and the ceilings and floors of all 3 storeys. The story goes that my great-aunt, who had received fire-fighter training, rushed into the cellar, took the fire bomb and threw it out on the street. That must have been a dud.
Even today, if you lift the carpet, you can still see where the holes once were.
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