by Mike Brunton
In addition to its cargo of Martians and servitors, every Cylinder carried Fighting Machines and Handling Machines. There were also spare parts aboard, and compartments given over to Red Weed. In effect, each Cylinder carried a complete military and colonizing force for the Martians.
There were some omissions in what the Martians did bring to Earth. They did not bring any naval equipment. This seems a peculiar oversight considering that they were invading a planet with so much water. After the Martians reached the Thames Estuary, it was revealed that War Machines were amphibious. The Fighting and Handling Machines had no problems with fording quite deep rivers and walking out into estuary waters. Crossing the English Channel or the North Sea would have been a slow walk across the seabed, but presumably no more difficult than picking a path through forests on dry land. The depth of the Channel between Dover and Calais is some 150ft (45m) or so, which means that a War Machine would have been submerged for only part of the crossing. The rest of the world was at more risk than anyone thought from the Martians…
There were also rumours that the Martians had brought Flying Machines to Earth, but there were no credible eye-witness accounts during the Invasion. No wreckage of any flying contraption was ever found, and this counted for more than lunatics claiming to have seen giant metal birds. Given the thin Martian atmosphere, it is doubtful that the Martians ever developed flight, but with their superior intellects they should have realized that a flying machine could work in Earth’s thicker atmosphere.
The Martians were incredibly lucky in having a mountain like Olympus Mons on their home world, a planet with an escape velocity less than half that of Earth. Their Gun-Launcher system was built on the mountain’s slopes, a vast piece of engineering, but one that was easily within Martian capabilities. The whole structure was a giant tube-like barrel many hundreds of miles in length, constructed on mountings to take maximum advantage of rising ground. Side combustion chambers were fired in sequence to propel the suspension pod cylinders towards Earth, and each reached escape velocity without too much stress on the occupants. The acceleration, muzzle velocity, and therefore the trajectory in space of each projectile could be fine-tuned by varying the propellant amounts and firing times of each combustion chamber. With the Martians’ grasp of mathematics and ballistics, this allowed them to place their invasion forces onto any point on Earth. Once launched, however, the cylinders were set upon their courses and only slowed when they entered Earth’s atmosphere and used an aero-braking manoeuvre to slow down sufficiently for a safe landing. There would be no return to Mars for any cylinder or its Martians until victory was achieved and a similar launcher had been constructed on Earth.
CHAPTER 3
15 DAYS IN AUGUST
‘This is a very ghastly business, and there has never been its like before.’
– Part of a letter found on the body of an artilleryman, after the Battle of Chertsey
WHY ENGLAND?
The precise reasons for the choice of Martian Invasion site in southern England will never be known. However, astronomers, scientists and military men made educated guesses based on their studies of Mars, the Martians, and Martian actions after the landings.
Giovanni Schiaparelli, the talented Italian astronomer, had made remarkable observations of Mars in 1877, and identified features that he called ‘canali’, or ‘channels’ (this word was subsequently mistranslated into English as ‘canals’). Signor Schiaparelli’s remarkably straight ‘canali’ or markings began speculations about who, or what, could have made them. In the light of the Invasion, it is clear that the Martians were responsible for these immense, planet-spanning structures, but they have not maintained them. Since the Invasion the channels have completely disappeared from the surface of Mars, and no trace can be seen today from Earth or from orbit around Mars. Whether the channels were dismantled or covered by sandstorms is not known. They remain entirely mysterious.
So, if human science was capable of seeing features on a distant world, how much more could the Martians see? How much more would they have understood from their observations? Martian science was certainly ahead of its earth equivalent in many fields, including optics (as the Heat Ray demonstrated). The Martians looked at Earth in some detail to determine the conditions their invasion forces would meet, and drew upon many decades or even centuries of earlier observations. Their records would have shown rapid changes on Earth, and in its atmosphere: great cities had sprung up across Europe and smoke from humanity’s blossoming industries had changed Earth’s atmosphere. Inevitably, the Martians concentrated their telescopic reconnaissance on north-western Europe, where change was happening with the greatest rapidity. The industries and cities of Britain, northern France and Germany led Martian observers to conclude, quite rightly, that here was the centre of Earth’s advanced productive capacity, and probably the heart of its civilization. Would it have occurred to the Martians that humanity was split into many hostile nations and tribes? Probably not: they must have been a single civilization to undertake the massive Invasion effort. Even if the Martians did understand Earth’s structure of nations this would have reinforced their choice of invasion target. Any Martian generalissimo surely wanted to destroy his enemy’s main power to resist as rapidly as possible.
From a Martian perspective the best place to invade was close to the centre of Earth’s power. And that centre lay near the north-western part of the main landmass, on a small island just off its coast. Indeed, the largest human city on the planet (London) was on the small island. Regardless of the social structures of any Earth creatures, such a large city had significance to the whole planet. The potential blow to the Earth’s defences of taking it was a tempting prospect. The main resistance would be gone, and a strong lodgement made in its place, secured by wide expanses of water.
It is possible that the Martians were capable of tracking the movement of ships at sea, even across such a gulf of space as between Earth and Mars. Such movements would have convinced them that their target, the centre of a web of smaller industrial cities, and served by ‘primitive’ transport systems like ships and railways, represented the heart and head of Earth. It therefore became the best target for the Invasion; if the Martians could destroy this central hive the rest, over-awed or demoralized, would cease to resist. The planet might well fall in short order.
Within hours of the first battles at Horsell Common patriotic – and completely fictional – images were being published in newspapers. Brave Tommies driving the invaders back at bayonet point were properly patriotic. The reality of humans taking on Heat Rays was never revealed to the general public. More than one newspaper editor printed such images as fliers and posters to rally the nation.
But to land in the middle of such a metropolis was to court disaster. What was required for the invader’s first wave was a lodgement close by, but not so close as to be immediately accessible by large Earth forces. And so, we can imagine, the Martian war cabinet looked at their aerial maps of southern England, and chose an open landing ground between London and the south coast. The marshier land to the north-east (in Essex and East Anglia) was a dangerous unknown to a species from a desert planet, while to land to the north or west meant placing forces between large built-up areas (London, Birmingham, Bristol and the northern English cities) where native resistance might be swiftly organized.
The gently rolling countryside to the south (Surrey and Sussex) presented few risks to the Martian landing craft, and was ample room to manoeuvre after landing. And by such a strange chain of reasoning (although mostly conjecture from our vantage point) alien intelligences made the name of Woking an unlikely byword for otherworldly terror and destruction.
Although Her Majesty’s Government had no inkling at the time, the war for Earth began long before Saturday 3 August 1895. Within two weeks British supremacy would be shaken to its roots, and the Queen’s ministers would contemplate the extinction not just of Britain and its Empire, but of all Mankind.
THE
FIRST LANDING
Early on the morning of Saturday 3 August the people of Woking and the surrounding area were shaken at their breakfasts by a tremendous crash as the first Martian Cylinder landed on Horsell Common. Trees were knocked down, windows shattered, and pictures fell from walls. In nearby Woodham Road chimneys collapsed and one house lost its roof. Remarkably, nobody was killed. The locals gathered on the Common, drawn there by a column of smoke.
Constable Thomas Barber was ordered down from Woking police station to ‘…put a stop to any nonsense’. Barber organized a rope barrier, stamped out the small fires started by the Cylinder’s arrival, and then retired to a nearby hostelry to steady his nerves.
His superiors had alerted Scotland Yard, who sent three detectives. One of these men was from the Metropolitan Police’s secretive Special Branch, as all the officers’ details are unrecorded. Although it was unlikely that the Cylinder was a Fenian plot, Special Branch took no chances. Lord Salisbury’s newly elected government was set against Irish Home Rule; a cunning ruse by the Irish Republican Brotherhood was a better explanation than nonsense involving a Cylinder coming from Mars! After all, in 1881 Irish revolutionaries had commissioned a New York shipyard to build a submarine, the Fenian Ram, to attack British shipping. Dastardly plots could not be dismissed, and telegrams requesting military assistance were also sent.
The crowd was more interested in the ale, ginger beer and snacks being hawked than mindful of danger. In London the newspapers had rushed out early afternoon editions all speculating about the ‘Horsell Crater’ and the ‘Woking Martians’. Others in London were also busy on the matter: the scientific worthies who turned up at Burlington House appointed themselves the ‘Extra-Ordinary British and Imperial Inter-planetary Welcoming Committee of the Royal Society’ and booked seats to Woking. At Horse Guards there was consternation at being asked for help. The Duke of Cambridge, not in the best of tempers at having his weekend disrupted, decided that the army would help after all. Units at Aldershot were to be ready to move without delay, a difficult task for an August weekend with many officers on leave.
By dusk, and with nothing happening, the crowds drifted home. The sound of hammering could be heard as repairs were made to nearby damaged houses. It was around midnight when Constable Barber heard noises from the crashed Cylinder and realized that something was happening: the end of the Cylinder was unscrewing.
MARTIAN REINFORCEMENTS
Two more Cylinders landed on Sunday 4 August; one tore through a wooded area on the edge of Horsell Common. Many spectators were injured or killed; carts and horse omnibuses carried them to hospitals and nearby halls. The second landed at Bisley, crashing across the new target range of the National Rifle Association (not to be confused with the American NRA). There, fortunately, no one was hurt although the members present gave ‘their’ Cylinder a wide berth.
At Woking railway station the first soldiers were arriving. Men of the 2nd Battalion, East Lancashire Regiment, were marched smartly towards the Common. More troops followed, and three field artillery batteries unloaded in the goods yard and moved forward. The next trains brought the 2nd Battalion, South Wales Borderers and 1st Battalion, Wiltshire Regiment. All three battalions were undermanned, but there were now some 1,500 infantry and 18 quick-firing 12-pounder guns ready for use.
Meanwhile the first Cylinder had opened and its top had slid off. Despite the casualties caused by the second Cylinder, the Royal Society’s Committee, fortified by a good breakfast, decided to make their overtures of peace and friendship. The entire Committee was last seen standing at the edge of the Horsell landing pit. After they had descended, there was utter silence. The Committee members were never seen alive again.
In London there was much confusion about what the new Cylinders could mean. One Cylinder might well be an exploratory expedition or bear diplomatic envoys, but three? Were these explorers or the start of something more? The Duke of Cambridge decided to take no chances, and sent Lord Roberts immediately. His orders were to assess the situation and take appropriate steps for ‘the defence of the Empire’. He was specifically told his troops were not to shoot unless fired upon. Roberts asked for more men and set out immediately.
On the Common the soldiers had deployed in a rough circle around the first landing (a small detail watched the second Cylinder). Officers made little attempt to use the ground sensibly, or to seek cover. They were concerned to keep the crowd back rather than contain a threat from the open Cylinder. The artillery formed a grand battery with an excellent field of fire across the Common, but no orders were issued concerning defensive earthworks for the guns.
By mid-afternoon there were mechanical sounds coming from the first Cylinder.
Lord Roberts arrived and, after examining the Common for himself, set up his headquarters at Woking Town Hall. He ordered a few companies to retire to the trees in case to form a reserve. Cyclists carried his orders to the troops, and messages to the Post Office telegraph for London. He already knew that the 4th Hussars, 9th Lancers and 2nd Battalion, Norfolk Regiment were on their way. And so he settled down to await developments. He did not have long to wait.
As dusk fell, a War Machine rose up from the Cylinder. It paused for a second and then began firing on all the infantry drawn up around the crater area, turning many into human torches where they stood. By chance, Roberts was present and immediately ordered a terrific barrage from all the guns into the first landing site. It seems likely that at least one War Machine was severely damaged in this initial attack. This is conjecture based on the number of War Machines aboard later Cylinders because no more than five War Machines were ever seen around the first Horsell Common site. All the other landing sites had at least six Machines present. The Martians pulled back, and the firing died down as more ammunition was sent forward. Having ‘contained’ the Martians, a few men were sent forward to scout the situation. This was dangerous work and many were killed, picked off by Heat Rays.
Those who did report back told of six machines: five War Machines like the first and a sixth ‘spider’ (a Handling Machine). It was possible to identify these machines by their different scarring from the artillery bombardment; the Handling Machine was quickly given a scornful nickname by the observers. Although it was unarmoured, the troops considered it to be a coward, a weakling or ‘too important to get its claws dirty’. It lurked behind the others in the pit and they named it ‘Frenchie’, then ‘The General’. A War Machine given the disrespectful nickname ‘Dirty Gertie’ (thanks to heavy powder staining from nearby explosions) quickly came to be feared by the troops because ‘it’ (the pilot, really) was an exceptionally good shot. It even seemed to enjoy killing humans by burning off their heads.
By dawn the human losses were known. Some 75 officers and men had been killed by the Heat Ray, but there were no wounded. The troops were eager to get to grips with the Martians and pay them back for dead comrades. Lord Roberts, however, was worried. He’d seen enough to know that his men were outgunned.
The Martians nearly always piloted Fighting Machines or Handling Machines on Earth. It was rare indeed to see a Martian outside either of these cunning contraptions which must have acted as prosthetic supports to combat Earth gravity as much as battle machines to fight human soldiers. The Fighting Machine was a terrifying engine of destruction for enemies to face. The Heat Ray cannon would have been bad enough, but the Black Smoke projectors gave each one more destructive power than a British Army brigade of the time: whatever the Martian operator could see, he could wipe from existence. A Handling Machine could be used as a mobile crane, mechanical navvy, human hunter and transport all rolled into one. Some Handling Machines also carried Black Smoke generators. The cylinders lacked anything that resembled a ship’s bridge or engine room, and they were completely automated. The Martian crew either slept during the voyage, or had limited duties that needed little movement around the vessel. There were many pod-like structures, filled with a repulsive organic slime, that were probabl
y protective shelters for the Martians to occupy during periods of high-stress flight such as launch and landing. There were similar coffin-like cages for the Martian biped servitors, and cargo areas for the components needed to build Handling and Fighting Machines.
THE BATTLE OF WOKING
Although it suited the London newspapers to call this day’s actions a battle, in reality it was a one-sided massacre.
At around mid-morning, with a tremendous clamour of hoots and howls, five War Machines moved out onto Horsell Common and put everything to the torch. The only soldiers to survive the onslaught were those who ran immediately. Anyone who hesitated was cut down. The Lancashires, Borderers and Wiltshires ceased to exist in the space of a few minutes. In the confusion that followed this day and subsequent events, only 53 men out of more than 1,500 ever reported back to barracks in Aldershot. One of these was a runner who set off to find Lord Roberts.
The 4th Hussars were mustering at the Shah Jahan Mosque, ready to go forwards, and then the Martians made their move. As is described elsewhere, they died almost to a man. The 9th Lancers, somewhat further back, immediately charged forwards and were similarly slain by the Martians. They died honourably and bravely, but it was completely futile. For their part, the British unit commanders in the field did not seem to understand the nature of the enemy they were facing. There was an unspoken assumption that the Martians, for all their powerful weaponry, were an enemy who could be countered with conventional methods
The grand battery managed one more cannonade, and then the gunners were overrun by the Martians. The civilians who had watched the military manoeuvres perished too. The entire ‘Battle of Woking’ lasted less than 20 minutes, and the Martians were entirely triumphant.
