“We must endeavour to reduce the sense of panic in the public. And that won’t be easy. Mind you, if no one can travel, then they might be persuaded to return to their places of work. To tell them to return, we will need the police in boats with loud hailers.”
“But I must have information. I need to know the current situation.”
“Indeed, Prime Minister.” The Environment Secretary looked at the Home Secretary. The Prime Minister continued. “Has any contact been made with Scotland Yard?”
“Not as yet.”
“What about the river police?”
“I don’t think so, Prime Minister.”
Chapter 14
Thursday Evening – Before High Tide
The depression over Oxford was filling and slowly drifting eastwards towards the East Coast of England. By High Tide in London, it reached the coast and the wind speeds dropped dramatically to 30 miles per hour, designated ‘Strong Breeze’ on the Beaufort scale. The direction of the wind moved from West Sou’west to Sou’ Sou’west. The rain stopped.
In the north, the depression to the west of Norway was also filling and drifting north west across the Scandinavian landmass towards the Gulf of Bothnia. At sea, the wind speeds reduced to 40 miles per hour, or ‘Fresh Gale’. The northern reaches of the North Sea were still very rough, but the snow stopped falling in Scotland and Northern England. In addition, the wind direction shifted to Westerly and the temperature rose to 3 degrees centigrade.
Across the north of England, power supplies were intermittent, as the National Grid was overwhelmed, not only by the problems caused by power lines having been broken, but also by the effect of the power cuts in London. The whole grid was under pressure with the increased demands for supply and reduced levels of generation as, one by one, the nuclear power stations on the east coast, cut their output in order to ride out the storm.
In Scotland the power supply was even worse, as power lines were down in all regions. The Central Electricity Generating Board was slowly coming to terms with the immensity of the task to restore power in all regions. Senior staff were being called in to assess and tackle the breakages. All leave was cancelled. Communications were appalling following the failure of most landline telephones. The power needed to generate the mobile phone networks was also down.
As soon as the breakdown in communication occurred, the Army swiftly started work on restoring its old wartime radio communications and connections with the Ministry of Defence in Whitehall were soon up and running. The quality of the connection was not the best, but it was slowly improving. The necessary power was being provided by diesel generators.
The Local Authorities on both sides of the Pennines were working to cut through the enormous and unprecedented snow drifts that had completely closed the M62 motorway from Rochdale to Huddersfield. Other roads across the Pennines were also blocked; the A62 from Manchester to Leeds, the A65 from Kendal to Skipton and Leeds, the A66 from Carlisle to Newcastle were all subjected to massive snow drifts.
The M6 from Lancashire to Carlisle was also blocked, particularly where the motorway skirted the Lake District, as was the A1 from Yorkshire up through Durham and Northumbria. In effect, the Local Authorities in the North of England were forced into separate action with little or no cross border co-ordination.
In Scotland, the situation was catastrophic. Snow had fallen across the whole country, bringing down powerlines, blocking both rail and roads, isolating towns and villages. The Scots, however, are familiar with short term disruptions to their lives in the winter and, basically, buckled down to wait out the storm. The east side of the country was affected more than the west.
In Whitehall, somewhat to the Prime Minister’s surprise, the old radio connection with the Ministry of Defence was re-connected and, finally, he was receiving reports of the extent of the devastation. Helicopters were airborne, on the initiative of the armed services, filming the inundated landscape, until there was insufficient daylight. The skies cleared and the moon was full. The wind continued to drop and, as the air became still, the temperature also dropped.
The tide began to ebb at about five in the afternoon. The water was now deeply contaminated with oil, sewage, all forms of detritus including dead animals, spilled cargoes and, above all, dead people. In the main river, there were buses, cars and containers floating often just below the surface, together with boats of all shapes and sizes that had been ripped from their moorings.
All along the edges of the flood, from Margate and Hadleigh in the east right through to Teddington in the west, people had congregated firstly from a morbid sense of curiosity, but after witnessing the enormity of the devastation, they started to set up teams to recover bodies and save people who were trapped. These early efforts lacked any co-ordination, were disjointed and often unsuccessful, but these paltry beginnings amply demonstrated the fortitude of the human spirit.
Fred Shemming surveyed the devastation from his observation post at the top of the training tower at the fire station. The station itself was surrounded by water, but he knew that part of the station’s kit included three inflatable dinghies with outboard motors. It would be a bit of a task to get at them as they were probably under water, at ground level. All his firefighters, together with the school children and their teachers, were safe in the canteen on the first floor.
Looking at the tower blocks, standing stark and silent mostly without lights and, seemingly with no life within, he realised that the best advice that could be given would be for people to stay put. He knew that some of the buildings had self-generating facilities but wondered whether there would be the necessary personnel to man them. He looked to the north where he could see the extent of the flood.
He checked his watch. It was now half past three and the light was fading fast. The wave, that enormous wall of water had passed by the Isle of Dogs just over thirty minutes before. One of his crew had looked up the tides in his newspaper. High Tide was still an hour and a half away. He didn’t know whether the water would continue to rise. He expected it would, but not in such a devastating manner.
He went down the tower and accessed the canteen across the bridge. Inside, everyone was sitting quietly. The children were being looked after by their teachers, while Dinah was helping to prepare sandwiches. There was no power and it had been decided that it would be better to consume Rajinder’s provisions rather than risk them becoming contaminated.
Fred surveyed the scene and caught the eye of his deputy, Terry. He beckoned him over.
"It’s a real bloody mess out there. The tide is still coming in and will for another hour or so. The wind’s dropping and it’s stopped raining, but the flood is covering everything except the skyscrapers. There’s no power and I am presuming that there will be no re-connection for some time. Some of the tower blocks will have their own generators and they should kick in quite soon. It’s beginning to get dark, so we’ll be able to see which blocks have power and which don’t. The sky is clearing and there will be a moon, but I’ve no idea how long we might be able to rely on that. There’s no telephone nor mobile connections. So, we’re basically on our own.
“As you know, we’ve got inflatables, but they’re in the garage down below. The water will have flooded the garage, but the inflatables are stored quite high up and should be OK. We’ve got to get them. The water will be contaminated, but I’m going to have a go. I just hope that the main door isn’t bolted.”
“How are you going to get in, Gov?” Terry, his deputy, quizzed him.
“Over the roof and through the skylight.”
“What? The same way those tow rags did a couple of years ago, you mean.”
“Yeah!”
“But we put in additional security after that break in.”
“I know. I’ll just have to force my way through it.” Fred thought a bit further. “Anyway, there won’t be any alarm, because there’s no power.”
“You’ll then have to open the doors. You’ll have to do that wit
hout power, using the manual system.”
“I know. And it’ll be under water. So I will need a volunteer. We do need those boats.”
“You can count on me, Gov.”
“Thought so. Let’s get to it.”
The fire station was constructed in the form of three large boxes. On the left was the garage, which housed two pumps. It was two stories high. Next to it stood the administrative areas on the ground floor, above which were the canteen, the toilets and a couple of training rooms. There were also three small bedrooms. Finally, there was the training tower. The tower stood slightly apart from the other buildings and access was normally from the ground floor. There was a secondary access, however, over a short bridge from the canteen.
Fred decided that the easiest way to the garage was over the roof of the admin block. To get on the roof, he would need to go up one flight of the stairs in the tower, swing out of the window onto the roof of the short bridge. It would only be a short drop to the flat roof of the admin block. From there it would be a simple task of accessing the garage roof, as there would only be a low balustrade to cross. Lighting in the garage was supplemented by four large skylights. Following the recent break in, the glass had been replaced by toughened, burglar proof glass and the fittings had been improved. They were supposedly impregnable.
This won’t be easy, he thought.
Fred and Terry found some rope, a couple of axes and a flashlight. They quickly explained the plan to the rest of the crew. Fred designated a crew member to be on watch at the top of the tower and to relay any relevant information as quickly as possible.
Fixing the rope inside the stairwell of the tower, Fred swung out and easily gained access to the roof of the short bridge. Terry followed. The rope was left attached to the tower. They hurried across the roof of the admin block to the balustrade.
“Listen, Gov,” said Terry.
“What?”
“Can you hear a sort of low murmuring over there?” He pointed towards the west. “It sounds like an electrical hum.”
“It’s the sound of people running on the East India Dock Road. There must be quite a crowd at the George Tavern by now.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard the same, when I was up top with Dinah. And everything between here and Limehouse is under water.”
“Oh right.” He looked up at his boss, “How are you going to break the glass?”
“I’m not!” Fred surprised Terry. “I’m going to chop out the skylight completely.”
“That’ll be hard work!”
“Come on then. We’ve no time to lose.”
They ran to the nearest skylight and started to chop at the roof around it. The roof was made from interlacing metal struts, overlaid with timber. They were able to cut through the timber quite easily, until they had exposed the whole skylight, which was bolted to the metal frame. Fortunately, it had not been riveted and they were able to undo the bolts with their equipment. Soon the skylight was hanging by just two bolts. Fred removed one and the whole fitment slowly slipped into the roof space, bending the last bolt. They both pushed on it, to encourage gravity. At last there was enough space to pass through.
“Right!” said Fred. “If I remember correctly, pump No 2 should be underneath us. It’s pretty dark in there. Have you got your flash lamp?”
“Yes, Gov. Hang on!” Terry turned on the torch and passed it over. Fred shone it into the garage. The cab of the pump was about seven feet below him. The water was much lower than he had expected, coming half way up the wheels on the second pump.
“This might be less tricky than we thought. I’m going to climb in, holding onto the roof. At full stretch, I should be standing on the roof of the cab.”
“OK, Gov. Give us the torch and I’ll light the way for you.”
“Cheers!”
Fred sat down on the edge of the metal frame of the roof. He rolled onto his stomach and, with a firm grip on the frame, he lowered himself into the garage. At first, he kept his elbows and forearms on top of the metal frame, but as he descended, he realised that the drop was a little further than anticipated. Finally, he was hanging at full stretch from his gauntleted hands.
“Can you see how far I’m above the cab, Terry?”
Terry chuckled. “If you stretch your toes down, you should be able to touch it.”
“This is no laughing matter, you know.” Fred smiled back at his deputy but did as Terry suggested. To his relief, he made contact with the cab and let go. “That was interesting,” he remarked looking back up at the sky. “Come on, Terry. I know you’re a bit of a short arse but I can always catch you.”
Terry quickly repeated the same method and in no time was hanging at full stretch from the hole in the roof. Fred grabbed him round the chest and Terry let go.
“Blimey, Gov, I never know you cared!” Terry looked round, flashing his light. “That’s strange. Why’s the water so low?”
"I thought the same. The doors must be holding back the water like lock gates in a canal. We won’t be able to force them open on our own. The outside pressure will be too great.
“I estimate that the depth of the water outside is about six feet round the buildings. The other pump can drive through that.”
“That’s right! We won’t get the doors open without the power of a pump.”
“Right! Let’s break out the inflatables. Must make sure we don’t inflate them in here!” He pointed his torch to the key safe on the wall just inside the door. “The keys to both pumps are there. We’ll put the inflatables over there, at the back of the garage. When we’ve got the outboards ready as well, we can start up the pump engines. I want you to use the ladder extension to push against the hinges of the left-hand door. We need to let more water in to lessen the outside pressure.”
Terry was listening carefully. “Why not just try to drive through the doors?”
“The doors open outwards and the water pressure is forcing them shut. Even with the power of the pump, we won’t be able to open them. I’m hoping that, by buggering the hinges, the pressure from outside will force the door and let more water in. As soon as there’s a depth of about four feet, I reckon we’ll be able to force the doors off their hinges with the other pump.”
They manhandled the three inflatables from the storage area to the back of the garage and tethered them to the back of the second pump. They placed the outboards on top, well away from the water, together with additional cans of fuel. Collecting the keys for the pumps, they climbed into the cabs and started the engines. Terry aimed the extendable ladder at a point between the door and the wall of the garage. Revving the engine before engaging the gear, he drove straight at the wall. There as a crunching sound as he hit the designated spot with the top of the ladder, followed by a screech of metal. He reversed back to survey the damage and was rewarded with a small stream of water at the bottom of the door. He reversed back a little further and repeated his actions. It’s just like trying to break into a castle with a battering ram, he thought. His second effort was more successful and the inflow of water became far more significant.
He shouted across to Fred, “I’ll do it once more,” lifting one finger. From the cab of the second pump, Fred responded with an upturned thumb and watched as Terry repeated the process for a third time. At last, the outside pressure forced the bottom of the door into the garage and the inflow of dirty, contaminated water doubled in strength. Terry pulled back once again and kept the engine ticking over.
When the rate of the inflow had eased, Fred positioned the second pump facing the central point of the doors. Slowly he drove forward, with specific purpose, into the doors. There was a sharp cracking sound as the bolts holding the doors secure were pulled from their mountings and slowly the doors began to open. Fred drove through the shattered doorway into the dark, flooded central forecourt of the fire station, towing the three inflatables behind. He braked, put the engine into neutral and climbed out of the cab. He slowly climbed down and, w
ith the water up to his chest, he waded to the rear of the pump to the inflatables.
After making sure that the outboards and the cans of fuel were well out of the way, he untied the first and pulled the toggle. With a whoosh, the craft inflated. He attached one of the outboard motors and placed two cans of fuel into the craft.
After inflating the other two and attaching the outboards, he manoeuvred the first to the side of the pump where he was able, using the rear wheel as a step, to get into the boat. He was about to start the outboard when he heard the throbbing of the engine of the second pump splutter and die. He called across to Terry.
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, Gov. The engine’s flooded, so this pump is now useless.”
“Right. I’m coming in to get you.”
Fred started the outboard and carefully re-entered the garage. Terry was waiting for him and without any fuss stepped out of the cab and into the inflatable.
“That’s taken us the best part of an hour,” Fred said to his deputy. “It’s now dark and there are no street lights as far as I can tell. There are plenty of cars further to the north, so I think we had better start ferrying the kids out of the station up to the Salvation Army Citadel.” He steered the boat round the garage to the back where he could see his team with flashlights waiting for him.
“Pete!” he shouted up at the faces looking down.
“Yes, Gov.”
“Is the rope still secure?”
“Yes, Gov.”
“Toss it to me.”
Pete gathered up the loose end of the rope from the roof of the short bridge and threw it to Fred.
“Stay here, Terry.” Fred caught hold of the rope. “I’m going back inside to explain what we’re planning.”
“Hang on, Gov,” Terry replied. “You don’t need to show off your climbing skills.”
“What?”
Thursday Page 25
