{"id":916,"date":"2023-02-13T02:15:41","date_gmt":"2023-02-13T02:15:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/haguepublishing.com\/WotW\/?page_id=916"},"modified":"2023-06-20T01:45:39","modified_gmt":"2023-06-20T01:45:39","slug":"day-20-sunday","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/haguepublishing.com\/WotW\/day-20-sunday\/","title":{"rendered":"Day 20 – Sunday"},"content":{"rendered":"

Eulogy for the Fallen<\/strong><\/h2>\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t
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20-Jun 00:01 – Sunday<\/div>

From a historical perspective, we are beginning to see that determination, organisation, and competence, lead to results that have far reaching consequences. As does the opposite.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We continue to see the @NUWSS\u2019 organisational abilities with outposts now in regular contact now via radio. In her diary Toni notes the increasing difficulty of moving through London because of \u00a0the Red Weed which has clogged London\u2019s waterways and caused the Thames to break its banks.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In Woking we witness the determined assault on the Martian\u2019s pit, while in London Morant delivers the eulogy for Pierre Currie at a small commemoration service held in the undercroft at Westminster.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 07:30 @LtCarver<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 07:30 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2018You\u2019re sure now, sir?\u201d Sergeant-Major Howard regarded Maxim\u2019s flying machine and its long catapult track with scepticism.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not,\u201d I said, \u201cbut if there\u2019s a chance that it\u2019ll work, I need to be here. I trust you and Lieutenant Mann have deployed per my orders?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cCarry on then, Sergeant -Major Howard,\u201d I saluted and shook his hand. \u201cAnd take care of yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYou too, sir. And don\u2019t worry about Mr. Farmer, sir. We\u2019ll keep an eye out for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cVery good, Sergeant-Major. Don\u2019t be tardy.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t miss it for the world, sir.\u201d Howard smiled.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 07:40 #HiramMaxim<\/div>
\"20-Jun<\/a><\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I was still not well enough to pilot my machine. Reluctantly, I would leave that to Mr Carver and Persephone. I was with the crew of the 12-pounder, overlooking Horsell Common. I pulled out my pocket watch. My head still hurt. But no matter: it would not be long now.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The men were dug into a slit trench anchored at each end by a Maxim gun, one hundred yards ahead of us, almost at the crater\u2019s rim. The men dug the trench with the greatest of care and bravery over the last two evenings as to not be discovered by the Martians. No sign of Farmer.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 07:52 @LtCarver<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 07:52 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I sat strapped into the bow of the Maxim\u2019s flying craft.\u00a0 Persephone sat behind me her hands gripping the tiller. Occasionally, she would make an adjustment to the throttle lever, causing the giant steam engine driving a four-bladed airscrew to thunder and shake the machine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I carried a bag of dart-like grenades in my lap that I were to drop on the enemy when we passed over. The machine shook around us, its engine at full power, restrained on the catapult track by the locking mechanisms. \u201cReady to go?\u201d Persephone leaned over and yelled in my ear.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I leaned back and nodded at her.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I felt the clamps holding us back disengage. We surged ahead, picking up speed as went, racing dizzyingly towards the end of the track that curved up into space. The wind whistled past my ears. I saw the end of the track come up and we fell.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:00 #HiramMaxim<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cGreen star,\u201d said the gunnery sergeant, his gas mask hanging around his neck. \u201cPrepare to fire!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So it was.<\/em> A lonely green star arced out from out forward positions. I scanned the skies for Persephone and Mr. Carver. Perhaps<\/em>…\u00a0 In the distance, I could hear the rattle of my guns.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:02 @LtCarver #flying<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 08:02 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We were flying!<\/em> Somehow, we fell and staggered into the sky, lurching from one air current to the other. We started to rise. We were just as good as the Martians: we could fly too! <\/em>As we rose above the roofless houses, I could make out the green star drifting above Horsell.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:05 #HiramMaxim #APutteringNoise<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The cannon roared beside me. The shell exploded on the far side of the of the crater, kicking up piles of dust.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cCorrect fire two degrees and you\u2019ll have it,\u201d I said to the gunnery sergeant. As the artilleryman barked the order to his crew, I heard a puttering noise overhead.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:06 @LtCarver #flying #UllaUlla<\/div>
\"20-Jun<\/a><\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 08:06 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We passed over the artillery position, some 80 feet below. I could see the men below wave excitedly to us, including Maxim. I definitely owed him an apology.<\/em> Despite the life-and-death struggle we faced, I joined Persephone in grinning and waving madly to our comrades below.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The artillery resumed firing as we left them. I could see the shell land in the pit, but short of the tower. I could see our men in the trench line, supported by the machine gunners, firing into the pit, trying to prevent the Martians from gaining their fighting-machines.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We began a turn to starboard, so that our path would take us over the pit. I reached for one of the grenades, primed it by twisting the firing pin in the nose.\u00a0 I leaned over, released it. There was a satisfying sound of an explosion. I looked up: the tower was directly ahead.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cThe tower!\u201d I grabbed Persephone by the hand and pointed ahead. She nodded, throttling up the engine.<\/p>\n

\u201cUlla! Ulla!\u201d<\/em> Suddenly, a fighting-machine reared up in front of us. <\/em>The flying machine made a hard turn to port, as the Martian tried to bring its Heat Ray to bear on us.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I picked up a pair of grenades. I primed them and threw them at the Martian. They exploded harmlessly as they hit the carapace. I felt a flash of blistering heat behind me Persephone!<\/em> I turned around. Persephone struggled with the tiller while the rudder of the aircraft burned.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:15 #HiramMaxim #MakeThisOneCount<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cUlla! Ulla!\u201d<\/em> The Martian fired its Heat Ray, shearing the tail off the flying machine. It spun in, trailing flame, crumpling as hit the ground. Persephone! Carver! <\/em>The fighting-machine towered over it and raised a leg as if to crush them. I never felt so helpless.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked at the sergeant. He yelled at the gun crew, \u201cTarget that tripod! Two rounds, double-quick!\u201d In short order, the artillery piece spoke twice. The first shell struck the fighting-machine, staggering it, while the second detonated as the machine collapsed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked at the tower. It stood defiantly. \u201cGet the tower!\u201d I yelled.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The gunnery sergeant nodded. \u201cYou heard the man! Put fire on that tower. Make this one count!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The gun fired.\u00a0 The shell exploded at the tower\u2019s base. The tower titled and leaned at a drunken angle.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

“Hit it again!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, sir,\u201d said the sergeant, picking up his carbine. \u201cThat\u2019s the last of our shells. From now on, it\u2019s PBI.\u201d He adjusted his gas mask.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cPBI?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cPoor Bloody Infantry.\u201d He motioned to his men. \u201cC\u2019mon lads.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Persephone\u2019s shotgun in hand, I followed.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:20 @LtCarver #FortunesOfWar<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 08:20 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cCarver! Wake up!\u201d I felt a hand shaking my shoulders. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I hurt in several places. Farmer knelt over me. Half his face was a mass of burnt red flesh, swollen, and cracked. Nonetheless, he smiled grotesquely when he saw me open my eyes. \u201cI saw you crash.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cPersephone?\u201d I sat up.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cStill unconscious.\u201d Farmer wheezed. \u201cI\u2019ve hidden her behind your craft\u2019s wings. Amazing machine, really.\u201d For a brief second, he was his old self, but only. \u201cYour friends have managed to damage the tower, but it\u2019s still standing.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWe must destroy it.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked around. Much of the pit looked like a scene out of Dante\u2019s Inferno<\/em>, consumed by smoke and fire. The wreckage of the Martian tripod lay toppled with smoke rising from its cracked carapace. Alarmingly, I saw a single unmoving grey tentacle dangling from the opening.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d Farmer laughed unevenly, looking at the tentacle. \u201cHe\u2019s quite dead.\u201d He helped me up and patted a canvas bag that hung over his side. \u201cI took some of the explosives that the old man was working on in his lab.\u00a0 I needed your grenades, but here\u2019s his gun.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I took Maxim\u2019s revolver, a big Webley from Farmer. It was still loaded. \u201cYou could\u2019ve injured him seriously when you attacked him.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI had to do it, old man.\u201d Farmer shrugged. \u201cFortunes of war and all that.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked back where Persephone lay, safe for now. \u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:35 #HiramMaxim #GasMasksOn<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We reached the trench-line overlooking the Martian pit. A number of our companions lay dead on the slope leading from the trench down into the enemy position, among them Lieutenant Mann.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI told him to wait,\u201d said Sergeant-Major Howard, bitterly. He shook my hand. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve 19 men left, including your lot,\u201d said Howard. \u201cWe saw your granddaughter and Mr. Carver go down in that craft of yours.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cSmoke\u2019s too thick to see anything.\u201d The machine gunners kept laying fire into the pit. \u201cWe\u2019re trying to give them some cover.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cThe tower\u2019s still up,\u201d I said. The pins-and-needles feeling was not as strong. Did anyone else sense it? \u201c<\/em>It must be destroyed. I can\u2019t order you to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to,\u201d Howard smiled grimly. He turned to the men. \u201cFix bayonets and put on your gasmasks. We\u2019ve a job to finish.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:42 @LtCarver #AChild’sSobbing<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 08:42 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Farmer and I carefully moved along through crater, picking our way by the shattered remains of a low, spider-like machine with five metallic legs and two claw-like appendages in its front. I smiled. It looked like it had taken a direct hit from the 12-pounder. The thing was dead.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The tower, leaning broadly, stood in front of us, beside the open cylinder which was about the size of an apartment block. Suddenly our own gunfire which had been in the background, stopped. \u201cSounds like they\u2019re about to storm the crater,\u201d I said, looking at Farmer.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cThe more the merrier!\u201d Farmer laughed uproariously. We passed by the open maw of the cylinder. It looked like the mouth of an ancient monster. Yet, from inside, I could hear a small girl crying.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cFarmer!\u201d I said, \u201cDo you hear that?\u201d The child\u2019s sobbing echoed out of the dark.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cThe child\u2019s dead already,\u201d said Farmer.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s still alive!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Farmer laughed. \u201cYou go save the bloody child, for all it matters. I\u2019ll tend to the tower.\u201d \u201cHere, you\u2019ll need these, old man.\u201d He passed me two grenades. Then taking out a metal cylinder, he pushed a button on its lid. \u201cI have this.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked at Farmer. In a short time, he had changed irrevocably. Not just physically, but morally, spiritually. One way or another, we had all changed. For the better or worse, I didn\u2019t know. We waved at each other. He went on his way; I went on mine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I would not see him again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pistol drawn, I advanced into the open maw of the cylinder. \u201cHello?\u201d\u00a0 I called out.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As I probed deeper, my eyes gradually became aware to the dim reddish light around me. This must be what daylight looks like on Mars. <\/em>At the same time, I became aware of an overwhelming stench.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The cavern around me stank of rotting flesh. I repressed a shiver. God only knew what that meant.<\/em> \u201cHello.\u201d\u00a0 I called. \u201cHullo?\u201d A small voice answered back. I stepped further in, pistol in hand. In the red gloom I could see a small blonde-haired girl in a ragged dress.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAre you taking me home?\u201d asked the girl. She was strapped down on something like the wrecked machine outside. A transparent tube ran from the machine\u2019s innards to her arm. Every once in a while, the girl would groan and a pulse of red liquid would run from her into the machine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

They were milking her blood!<\/em> \u201cI most certainly am.\u201d I stuck the Webley into my belt. I tried to grab the tube only be blocked by a metallic arm with a claw at the end of it, which darted in front of me. \u201cI don\u2019t think he\u2019ll let you,\u201d she said nodding to something behind me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:43 @LtCarver #AChild’sSobbingPt2<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 08:43 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think he\u2019ll let you,\u201d the child said nodding to something behind me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

“He?\u201d<\/em> I spun around, pulling out my gun. It was then I saw my first Martian.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 08:55 #HiramMaxim #GasMasksOn<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim:<\/p>\n

Gripping Persephone\u2019s shotgun, I advanced warily down the slope into the Martian pit, flanked by Sergeant-Major Howard and his men, bayonets fixed. With the composition of the smoke below us uncertain, we thought it best to don our gas masks.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Howard ordered us forward with his hand. The rubberized fabric of the mask with its glass eye holes was claustrophobic, but as I detected no odour, I deduced that the masks worked. The band of smoke cleared, and I joined Howard and the others in removing the masks.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWe saw your machine land around here,\u201d explained Howard as our skirmish line moved through a forest of ruined alien machinery. Soon, we came up the tangle of wings and tail surfaces that used to be my flying machine. I was elated to see Persephone standing beside them unharmed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We embraced. \u201cGrandfather,\u201d she said, \u201cwhen I came to behind the wing, Roger was gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Commander clearly hid you there to protect you, while he moved on to the tower,\u201d I surmised, quickly looking around us. \u201cTo where we must presently go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight,\u201d said Howard. \u201cForward!\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 09:02 @LtCarver #TheMartian<\/div>
\"Naval<\/a><\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 09:02 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I beheld the Martian: a large greyish-brown misshapen head with pulsing veins and delicate whip-link tentacles protruding from its sides. Two tiny soulless beady black eyes regarded me impassively, set above a small beaklike mouth that sucked red fluid through a glass straw.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So this was one of the Master Race, one of the would-be conquers of Earth<\/em>. I felt revulsed. But I also sensed something else. I was able to gather a series of impressions from the Martian. Telepathy?<\/em> I sensed a brutal disdain for humanity, as we clearly didn\u2019t matter to it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I gripped my pistol. Yet I sensed something else. Something I sensed when I was on China Station and once cleared out an opium den. Confused satisfaction. Addiction! The Martians were addicted to human blood! <\/em>I raised my pistol and squeezed the trigger.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Martian reeled as the bullets struck its misshapen form. Anger directed at me filled my head, as the alien strained to rear its bulk against me, fighting earth\u2019s gravity. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my two grenades. I twisted the two priming caps and threw them.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 09:06 #HiramMaxim #GasMasksOn<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim:<\/p>\n

We came across the open mouth of the cylinder when two explosions rang out from inside.\u00a0 A half-minute later, a figure carrying a small child staggard out.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cRoger!\u2019 Persephone ran forward and embraced him, exchanging a quick kiss.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I followed, flanked by Howard and the men.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Carver gave the sobbing child to Persephone. \u201cTake care of her, she\u2019s been through a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked at the girl my granddaughter\u2019s arms and then the cylinder. My curiosity surged. \u201cWas she there? The Martians?\u2019<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI could tell you more Maxim, but there\u2019s no time. Farmer was here.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cFarmer?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cHe went to the tower to destroy it. He\u2019s quite mad. He has some of your explosives.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I felt dread. \u201cI knew he took it!\u00a0 A cylinder: small metal cylinder \u2013 did he have it with him?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Carver nodded. \u201cHe did.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My dread deepened. \u201cDid he press a button on it?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said Carver.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWe have to get out of here now.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the tower?\u201d asked Howard, looking suddenly confused.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cCommander, Sergeant-Major,\u201d I\u2019m afraid to say that tower is the least of our worries. If Mr. Farmer does what he intends, our concerns will be rendered academic\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 09:14 @LtCarver #APleasureServingWithYou<\/div>

\u201cMaxim,\u201d I said, \u201cmake sense!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cThat cylinder \u2013 it\u2019s a prototype of a new explosive I\u2019ve been developing. I named after my daughter \u2013 Persephone\u2019s mother \u2013 Carol\u2026 Carolinium.<\/em> When that mad fool sets that bomb off, it\u2019ll destroy everything in this pit.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the button?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s activated the delay timer.\u00a0 We have less than thirty minutes to escape!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cSergeant-Major Howard,\u201d I called out, with a rising sense of urgency, \u201cFall back.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard him,\u201d Howard called to the men, \u201cfall back \u2013 double time!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We ran to the edge of the pit to a break in the smoke.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cSir,\u201d said Howard, eyeing the break in the smoke suspiciously, \u201cwe don\u2019t have gas masks for everyone. Not including the little girl.\u201d He reached for his mask. \u201cHere, sir.\u201d He took off his mask. \u201cI\u2019m an old man. Let the child have mine. I\u2019ll take my chances with the smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cKeep your mask,\u201d Sergeant-Major,\u201d I said, giving it back to him. \u201cThe child already has mine. Professor Maxim says the air should be clear enough if I go straight up the middle.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAye, sir.\u201d Howard saluted me. \u201cMind if I say, Mr. Carver, it\u2019s been a pleasure serving with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 09:16 #HiramMaxim #Struggling<\/div>

From the personal journal of Hiram Maxim:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As we charged up the slope, I was all too aware that Mr. Carver who had gallantly donated his mask to the little girl was the only one of us not wearing a mask. I prayed that my advice about staying the centre of the break would be enough.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I felt my boots dig into the sandy slope.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As we crested the rise, I checked over my shoulder through the smoke through the eyeholes in my mask. Mr. Carver was still there, his feet digging into the loose soil, but he seemed to be struggling.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 09:17 @LtCarver #QuiteFinished<\/div>

From the personal log of Lt Roger Carver, Royal Marines, HMS Thunder Child<\/em>, 20 June 1897, 09:17 GMT:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I tried to hold my breath as we ran up the slope. I stayed to the clearest path, where I could see a patch of blue sky. My lungs began to fill with acrid smoke. I stumbled, picked myself up and kept going.<\/p>\n

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I crested the hill but dropped to my knees again, coughing. I could not get up but immediately I felt myself being picked up and carried by Sergeant-Major Howard. \u201cIt\u2019ll be all right, sir. We\u2019re clear of the pit and the smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n

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\u201cThank you,\u201d I felt myself croak. My chest was on fire.<\/p>\n

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We\u2019d proceeded a hundred feet further when I heard Maxim yell for us to go to ground and cover our eyes. There was flash. The ground shook like it had been struck by a hammer. I managed to sit up in time to see black toadstool-shaped cloud, edged with fire, boil up from the pit.<\/p>\n

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I was sitting in the grass when Persephone joined me, still holding the girl. \u201cOh Roger.\u201d She hugged me. \u201cAre the Martians\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

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\u201c\u2026quite dead \u2013 at least here anyway,\u201d I took her hand. I watched the reddish black cloud rise skyward.\u00a0 \u201cI shall never doubt your grandfather again.\u201d<\/p>\n

I lost consciousness.<\/p>\n

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20-Jun 10:00 @BreakerMorant #IGaveTheEulogy<\/div>
\"20-Jun<\/a><\/div>

We held a small commemoration service for Pierre in the undercroft at Westminster. As both Pierre and Marie had been agnostics I didn\u2019t need to find a priest, and gave the eulogy myself.<\/p>\n

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20-Jun 10:15 @BreakerMorant #RedIsNotTheColourOfMyCountry<\/div>

Returning to the Underground, I see the Martian\u2019s red weed has covered the Thames.<\/p>\n

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20-Jun 11:40 @toniwantstovote<\/div>
\"Oldies<\/a><\/div>

#Oldies sewing and making frantically. #GasMasks for all.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 12:00 @HGWells<\/div>

On the 12th day of his imprisonment Well’s throat is so painful that, taking the chance of alarming the Martians, he attacks the creaking rain-water pump that stands by the sink, and gets a couple of glassfuls of blackened and tainted rain-water.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 12:56 @toniwantstovote<\/div>

@NUWSS outposts in regular contact now. #Thanks to @SirJohnTheEngineer and his #Wireless marvel. He says thank @GMarconiWireless<\/p>\n

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Thank you @GMarconiWireless<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 15:00 @toniwantstovote<\/div>
\"20-Jun<\/a><\/div>

#GasMask just fitted in my #Pocket #IWillNeverWearANormalSkirtAgain #DividedSkirtsForTheWin<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 21:18 @toniwantstovote<\/div>

Getting harder to move through #London #RedWeed is everywhere #Thames is now beginning to break banks in places. What will become of #London?<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-Jun 21:59 @toniwantstovote<\/div>

The stench of the dead from the #BlackSmoke is getting worse. #GasMasks have more than one purpose now.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

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20-June 22:00 #Hampstead<\/div>

The Martians still have a large encampment near Hampstead. It\u2019s like a great city, and at night, the sky is bright with their lights.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t

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