Murders in wartime London reveal a darker side of the Blitz

A new book uncovers hidden crimes in London during World War II.

Illustration by Gio Banfi

By Widya Putri

Under Cover of Darkness: Murders in Blackout London, by Amy Helen Bell

Most Americans formed their impression of London during World War II through the broadcasts of Edward R. Murrow on CBS. Murrow’s reports celebrated the resilience of Londoners under Nazi air raids, portraying a city united in heroic resistance. His vivid storytelling connected the still-neutral United States to the dangers of war in Europe, making him an essential figure in shaping public sentiment. Even Winston Churchill recognized Murrow’s influence, suggesting in 1943 that he take a senior role at the BBC.

Yet Murrow, like other wartime journalists, operated under strict British censorship. The need to maintain morale meant that stories conflicting with the heroic narrative of the Blitz were often buried. As historian Amy Helen Bell reveals in Under Cover of Darkness, many of the city’s most gruesome crimes went unnoticed amid the destruction.

A city transformed by war

The war fundamentally altered Britain’s imperial capital. The blackout darkened the streets, windows were covered, and signposts were removed to confuse enemy bombers. Railings and fences were melted down for the war effort, while relentless air raids left entire neighborhoods in ruins. "Whole streets disappeared," Bell writes, describing a London of bomb craters and collapsed buildings.

This devastation created opportunities for crime. The city’s shifting population, the chaos of war, and the anonymity of darkness allowed criminals to thrive. Bell’s book brings to light the hidden victims—refugees, workers, women in desperate circumstances, Black servicemen facing racism, and those who became accidental casualties of violent robberies.

The crimes hidden from public view

One such case was that of Rachel Dobkin, whose body was discovered in 1942 in a bombed-out church basement. Her husband, Harry Dobkin, had strangled her and placed the body in a way that suggested she had died in an air raid. Their marriage had been unhappy since its beginning in 1920, and Harry’s crime might have gone undetected had it not been for Rachel’s sister, Polly, who pushed for an investigation. A jury found Harry guilty after only 20 minutes of deliberation, leading to his execution.

Violent crime escalated during the war. In late 1940, Morris Sholman, a bartender in Covent Garden, was shot in a botched robbery. The sole witness described the shooter only as a “man in khaki”—a vague description in a city full of soldiers. Eventually, the police arrested a Canadian serviceman who had tried to rob the bar’s till, killing Sholman in the process. Though convicted, the soldier was later repatriated, as Britain sought to maintain good relations with its allies.

The dangers of London’s darkened streets

The city’s wartime blackouts also led to a surge in sexual violence. London had a thriving sex trade before the war, but darkness provided cover for illicit encounters and attacks. Bell notes that the number of prostitutes in the city doubled between 1931 and 1946. Serial killers took advantage of the conditions.

One of the most infamous was Gordon Cummins, who preyed on women and killed four victims in a six-day spree. He was caught after attempting to strangle Greta Heywood, a woman waiting for a date in Piccadilly. Heywood survived and helped identify her attacker. Cummins, an RAF serviceman, did not fit Churchill’s idealized image of the military’s “few” who defended Britain. He was convicted and executed in 1942.

Wartime London’s most notorious murderer was John Reginald Christie, who later became infamous for the crimes at 10 Rillington Place in Notting Hill. His first known victim, Ruth Fuerst, was a Jewish refugee whom he met while serving as a War Reserve policeman. Christie eventually killed at least eight people, but his most tragic case involved his neighbors, Beryl and Geraldine Evans. Christie framed Beryl’s husband, Timothy Evans, for the murders, leading to Timothy’s wrongful execution. The case later played a crucial role in Britain’s abolition of the death penalty.

Were Americans deceived about wartime London?

Murrow’s wartime broadcasts did not entirely misrepresent London. As Bell highlights, genuine acts of heroism occurred alongside the crimes. The Blitz saw extraordinary resilience, but it also masked darker realities. London’s police, despite being stretched thin, pursued justice in high-profile cases.

One such case involved Fred Westbrook, who shot and killed a Jamaican serviceman, Aloysius Abbott, on Christmas Eve in 1946. Police chased Westbrook across rooftops in a dramatic pursuit that involved nearly 100 officers. One officer was shot in the face, but Westbrook was eventually caught. Their bravery was different from the heroism Churchill emphasized, but it was heroism nonetheless.

The hidden history of war-torn London

The stories uncovered in Under Cover of Darkness challenge the sanitized version of London’s war years. While the Blitz narrative emphasized unity and defiance, crime flourished in the shadows. The war transformed London into a city of both resilience and brutality, where the fight for survival took many forms.

By shedding light on these forgotten crimes, Bell’s book paints a fuller picture of wartime London—a city where heroism and horror coexisted in the darkest hours of the 20th century.