...Sure.

He waves cheerily and walks on.

Ada writes the fleet reporting everything that's happened so far, and conjures the reply every few minutes until there is one.

You're probably going to need to talk to people of importance, no idea how that's best achieved. Situation look dire?

Not egregiously compared to, like, WWII Britain.

Lacking some context there.

Right. Um. There's rationing and stuff and things don't look great but they're not, like, ostentatiously unstably not-great.

Okay. Can you figure out what's going on in the less stable places?

Probably once we manage to talk to people of importance.

Good skill. 

You too.

This world has radio! There's one set up in a coffeeshop that's long since run out of coffee and sells only alcohol, now.

Hmm. Well, they have no money, and counterfeiting is probably not a good "we come in peace" move.

They are not offered money by kindly strangers. People are not rude but they mostly do not acknowledge the two of them at all. 

When the air-raid sirens blare people will point them to the nearest shelter, though.

Hmm. Is it feasible to, instead, hide somewhere not in a shelter.

They'll get yelled at, but they can ignore all the yellers. 

Nah, not discreet enough, that was the point of hiding, they'll just go to the shelters.

Which have a radio, which reports tersely that the Enemy's rolled fifty miles farther inland in Mithrim, that our brave men and women are returning fire on the northern border...

Eidetic memory blessings mean never having to say "what's this I'm writing? Haha, nothing." She can send the information just as well when they're not surrounded by people.