WILLIAM LE QUEUX: 15 Dystopian Novels & Espionage Thrillers (Illustrated Edition). William Le Queux
the third day our men, superintended by several non-commissioned officers in uniform, began to put the position in a proper state of defence, to mount Maxims in the neighbouring houses, and to place explosives in the crown of two of the arches of the bridge, so that we could instantly demolish it if necessity arose.
“Fully a thousand men were holding the position, but unfortunately few of them had ever handled a rifle. As regards myself, I had learned to shoot rooks when a boy in Shropshire, and now that I had obtained a gun I was anxious to try my skill. When the League of Defenders was started, and a local secretary came to us, we all eagerly joined, each receiving, after he had taken his oath and signed his name, a small silk Union Jack, the badge of the League, not to be worn till the word went forth to rise.
“Then came a period — long, dreary, shadeless days of waiting — when the sun beat down upon us mercilessly and our vigilance was required to be constant both night and day. So uncertain were the movements of the enemy opposite us that we scarcely dared to leave our positions for a moment. Night after night I spent sleeping in a neighbouring doorway, with an occasional stretch upon somebody’s bed in some house in the vicinity. Now and then, whenever we saw Germans moving in Wellington Street, we sent a volley into them, in return receiving a sharp reply from their pom-poms. Constantly our sentries were on the alert along the wharves and in the river-side warehouses, watching for the approach of the enemy’s spies in boats. Almost nightly some adventurous spirits among the Germans would try and cross. On one occasion, while doing sentry duty in a warehouse backing on Commercial Road, I was sitting with a comrade at a window overlooking the river. The moon was shining, for the night was a balmy and beautiful one, and all was quiet. It was about two o’clock in the morning, and as we sat smoking our pipes, with our eyes fixed upon the glittering water, we suddenly saw a small boat containing three men stealing slowly along in the shadow cast by the great warehouse in which we were.
“For a moment the rowers rested upon their oars, as if undecided, then pulled forward again in search of a landing-place. As they passed below our window I shouted a challenge. At first there was no response. Again I repeated it, when I heard a muttered imprecation in German.
“ ‘Spies!’ I cried to my comrade, and with one accord we raised our rifles and fired. Ere the echo of the first shot had died away I saw one man fall into the water, while at the next shot a second man half rose from his seat, threw up his hands, and staggered back wounded.
“The firing gave the alarm at the barricade, and ere the boat could approach the bridge, though the survivor pulled for dear life, a Maxim spat forth its red fire, and both boat and oarsman were literally riddled.
“Almost every night similar incidents were reported. The enemy were doing all in their power to learn the exact strength of our defences, but I do not think their efforts were very successful. The surface of the river, every inch of it, was under the careful scrutiny of a thousand watchful eyes.
“Day after day passed, often uneventfully. We practically knew nothing of what was happening across the river, though we could see the German standard flying upon the public buildings. The ruins of London were smoking for days after the bombardment, and smouldering fires broke out again in many instances.
“Each day the Bulletin of our national association brought us tidings of what was happening beyond the barricades. We had regained command of the sea, which was said to be a good deal, though it did not seem to bring us much nearer to victory.
“At last, however, the welcome word came to us, on the morning of October 4th, that at ten that night we were to make a concerted attack upon the Germans. A scarlet bill was thrust into my hand, and as soon as the report was known we were all highly excited, and through the day prepared ourselves for the struggle. I regret to say that some of my comrades, prone to drink, primed themselves with spirits obtained from the neighbouring public-houses in York Road and Waterloo Road. Not that drunkenness had been the rule. On the contrary, the extreme tension of those long, hot days had had a sobering effect, and even men used to drink refrained from taking any. Ah! I have of late seen some splendid examples of self-denial, British patriotism, and fearless valour. Only Englishmen could have conducted themselves as my brave comrades have done. Only Englishmen could have died as they have done.
“Through all yesterday we waited, watching every movement of the enemy in our line of fire. Now and then we, as usual, sent him greetings in the form of a shell or two, or else a splutter from a Maxim, and in reply there came the sweeping hail of bullets, which flattened themselves upon our wall of paving-stones. The sunset was a red, dusky one, and over London westward there spread a blood-red light, as though precursory to the awful catastrophe that was about to fall. With the after-glow came the dark oppression of a thunderstorm — a fevered electrical quiet that could be felt. I stood upon the barricade gazing over the river, and wondering what would happen ere the dawn. At ten o’clock London, the great, mysterious, unknown city, was to rise and cast off the German yoke. How many who rebelled would live to see the sunrise?
“I had watched the first flash of the after-glow beyond Blackfriars Bridge every morning for the past ten days. I had breathed the fresh air, unsullied by smoke, and had admired the beauty of the outlines of riverside London in those early hours. I had sat and watched the faint rose turn to purple, to grey, and then to the glorious yellow sunrise. Yes. I had seen some of the most glorious sunrises on the river that I have ever witnessed. But should I ever see another?
“Dusk crept on, and deepened into night — the most momentous night in all the history of our giant city. The fate of London — nay, the fate of the greatest Empire the world has ever seen, was to be decided! And about me in groups waited my comrades with fierce, determined faces, looking to their weapons and gossiping the while. Each of us had brought out our precious little badge and pinned it to our breasts. With the Union Jack upon us we were to fight for country and for King.
“Away, across, upon a ruined wall of Somerset House the German standard floated defiantly; but one and all of us swore that ere the night was past it should be pulled down, and our flag — the flag of St. George of England, which flapped lazily above our barricades — should replace it.
“Night fell — a hot, fevered night, breathless and ominous of the storm to come. Before us, across the Thames, lay London, wrecked, broken, but not yet conquered. In an hour its streets would become, we knew, a perfect hell of shot and shell. The oil lamps in Wellington Street, opposite Somerset House, threw a weird light upon the enemy’s counter-barricade, and we could distinctly see Germans moving, preparing for a defence of their position, should we dare to cross the bridge. While we waited three of our gallant fellows, taking their lives in their hands, put off in a boat and were now examining the bridge beneath to ascertain whether the enemy had imitated our action in placing mines. They might have attached them where the scaffold was erected on the Middlesex side, that spot which had been attacked by German spies on the night of the bombardment. We were in a position to blow up the bridge at any moment; but we wanted to ascertain if the enemy were prepared to do likewise.
“Minutes seemed like hours as we waited impatiently for the appointed moment. It was evident that Von Kronhelm feared to make further arrests, now that London was flooded by those red handbills. He would, no doubt, require all his troops to keep us in check. On entering London the enemy had believed the war to be over, but the real struggle is only now commencing.
“At last the low boom of a gun sounded from the direction of Westminster. We looked at our watches, and found that it was just ten o’clock. Next moment our bugle sounded, and we sprang to our positions, as we had done dozens, nay, hundreds, of times before. I felt faint, for I had only had half a pint of weak soup all day, for the bread did not go round. Nevertheless the knowledge that we were about to strike the blow inspired me with fresh life and strength. Our officer shouted a brief word of command, and next moment we opened a withering fire upon the enemy’s barricade in Wellington Street.
“In a moment a hundred rifles and several Maxims spat their red fire at us, but as usual the bullets flattened themselves harmlessly before us. Then the battery of artillery which Sir Francis Bamford had sent us three days before, got into position, and in a few moments began hurling great shells upon the German defences. We watched, and cheered loudly as the effect of our fire