7.7 KiB
CHAPTER THE SECOND. THE LAST WAR
Section 7
But as yet Barnet had seen no more than the mildest beginnings of modern warfare. So far he had taken part onlyin a little shooting. The bayonet attack by which the advanced line was broken was made at a place called CroixRouge, more than twenty miles away, and that night under cover of the darkness the rifle pits were abandoned andhe got his company away without further loss. His regiment fell back unpressed behind the fortified lines between Namur and Sedan, entrained at a station calledMettet, and was sent northward by Antwerp and Rotterdam to Haarlem. Hence they marched into North Holland.It was only after the march into Holland that he began to realise the monstrous and catastrophic nature of thestruggle in which he was playing his undistinguished part. He describes very pleasantly the journey through the hills and open land of Brabant, the repeated crossing of armsof the Rhine, and the change from the undulating scenery of Belgium to the flat, rich meadows, the sunlit dykeroads, and the countless windmills of the Dutch levels. In those days there was unbroken land from Alkmaar andLeiden to the Dollart. Three great provinces, South Holland, North Holland, and Zuiderzeeland, reclaimed atvarious times between the early tenth century and 1945 and all many feet below the level of the waves outside thedykes, spread out their lush polders to the northern sun and sustained a dense industrious population. An intricateweb of laws and custom and tradition ensured a perpetual vigilance and a perpetual defence against thebeleaguering sea. For more than two hundred and fifty miles from Walcheren to Friesland stretched a line ofembankments and pumping stations that was the admiration of the world. If some curious god had chosen to watch the course of events in those northern provinces while that flankingmarch of the British was in progress, he would have found a convenient and appropriate seat for his observationupon one of the great cumulus clouds that were drifting slowly across the blue sky during all these eventful daysbefore the great catastrophe. For that was the quality of the weather, hot and clear, with something of a breeze,and underfoot dry and a little inclined to be dusty. This watching god would have looked down upon broadstretches of sunlit green, sunlit save for the creeping patches of shadow cast by the clouds, upon sky−reflectingmeres, fringed and divided up by masses of willow and large areas of silvery weeds, upon white roads lying bareto the sun and upon a tracery of blue canals. The pastures were alive with cattle, the roads had a busy traffic, ofbeasts and bicycles and gaily coloured peasants' automobiles, the hues of the innumerable motor barges in thecanal vied with the eventfulness of the roadways; and everywhere in solitary steadings, amidst ricks and barns, ingroups by the wayside, in straggling villages, each with its fine old church, or in compact towns laced with canalsand abounding in bridges and clipped trees, were human habitations. The people of this country−side were not belligerents. The interests and sympathies alike of Holland had been sodivided that to the end she remained undecided and passive in the struggle of the world powers. And everywhere
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along the roads taken by the marching armies clustered groups and crowds of impartially observant spectators,women and children in peculiar white caps and old−fashioned sabots, and elderly, clean−shaven men quietlythoughtful over their long pipes. They had no fear of their invaders; the days when 'soldiering' meant bands oflicentious looters had long since passed away.... That watcher among the clouds would have seen a great distribution of khaki−uniformed men and khaki−paintedmaterial over the whole of the sunken area of Holland. He would have marked the long trains, packed with men orpiled with great guns and war material, creeping slowly, alert for train−wreckers, along the north−going lines; hewould have seen the Scheldt and Rhine choked with shipping, and pouring out still more men and still morematerial; he would have noticed halts and provisionings and detrainments, and the long, bustling caterpillars ofcavalry and infantry, the maggot−like wagons, the huge beetles of great guns, crawling under the poplars alongthe dykes and roads northward, along ways lined by the neutral, unmolested, ambiguously observant Dutch. Allthe barges and shipping upon the canals had been requisitioned for transport. In that clear, bright, warm weather,it would all have looked from above like some extravagant festival of animated toys. As the sun sank westward the spectacle must have become a little indistinct because of a golden haze; everythingmust have become warmer and more glowing, and because of the lengthening of the shadows more manifestly inrelief. The shadows of the tall churches grew longer and longer, until they touched the horizon and mingled in theuniversal shadow; and then, slow, and soft, and wrapping the world in fold after fold of deepening blue, came thenight−−the night at first obscurely simple, and then with faint points here and there, and then jewelled in darklingsplendour with a hundred thousand lights. Out of that mingling of darkness and ambiguous glares the noise of anunceasing activity would have arisen, the louder and plainer now because there was no longer any distraction ofsight. It may be that watcher drifting in the pellucid gulf beneath the stars watched all through the night; it may be thathe dozed. But if he gave way to so natural a proclivity, assuredly on the fourth night of the great flank march hewas aroused, for that was the night of the battle in the air that decided the fate of Holland. The aeroplanes werefighting at last, and suddenly about him, above and below, with cries and uproar rushing out of the four quartersof heaven, striking, plunging, oversetting, soaring to the zenith and dropping to the ground, they came to assail ordefend the myriads below. Secretly the Central European power had gathered his flying machines together, and now he threw them as a giantmight fling a handful of ten thousand knives over the low country. And amidst that swarming flight were five thatdrove headlong for the sea walls of Holland, carrying atomic bombs. From north and west and south, the alliedaeroplanes rose in response and swept down upon this sudden attack. So it was that war in the air began. Menrode upon the whirlwind that night and slew and fell like archangels. The sky rained heroes upon the astonishedearth. Surely the last fights of mankind were the best. What was the heavy pounding of your Homeric swordsmen,what was the creaking charge of chariots, beside this swift rush, this crash, this giddy triumph, this headlongswoop to death? And then athwart this whirling rush of aerial duels that swooped and locked and dropped in the void between thelamp−lights and the stars, came a great wind and a crash louder than thunder, and first one and then a score oflengthening fiery serpents plunged hungrily down upon the Dutchmen's dykes and struck between land and seaand flared up again in enormous columns of glare and crimsoned smoke and steam. And out of the darkness leapt the little land, with its spires and trees, aghast with terror, still and distinct, and thesea, tumbled with anger, red−foaming like a sea of blood.... Over the populous country below went a strange multitudinous crying and a flurry of alarm bells... .
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The surviving aeroplanes turned about and fled out of the sky, like things that suddenly know themselves to bewicked.... Through a dozen thunderously flaming gaps that no water might quench, the waves came roaring in upon theland....