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passive in the

struggle of the world powers. And everywhere 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 of

licentious looters had long since passed away…

That watcher among the clouds would have seen a great

distribution of khaki-uniformed men and khaki-painted material

over the whole of the sunken area of Holland. He would have

marked the long trains, packed with men or piled with great guns

and war material, creeping slowly, alert for train-wreckers,

along the north-going lines; he would have seen the Scheldt and

Rhine choked with shipping, and pouring out still more men and

still more material; he would have noticed halts and

provisionings and detrainments, and the long, bustling

caterpillars of cavalry and infantry, the maggot-like wagons, the

huge beetles of great guns, crawling under the poplars along the

dykes and roads northward, along ways lined by the neutral,

unmolested, ambiguously observant Dutch. All the 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; everything must have become

warmer and more glowing, and because of the lengthening of the

shadows more manifestly in relief. The shadows of the tall

churches grew longer and longer, until they touched the horizon

and mingled in the universal shadow; and then, slow, and soft,

and wrapping the world in fold after fold of deepening blue, came

the night-the night at first obscurely simple, and then with

faint points here and there, and then jewelled in darkling

splendour with a hundred thousand lights. Out of that mingling of

darkness and ambiguous glares the noise of an unceasing activity

would have arisen, the louder and plainer now because there was

no longer any distraction of sight.

It may be that watcher drifting in the pellucid gulf beneath the

stars watched all through the night; it may be that he dozed. But

if he gave way to so natural a proclivity, assuredly on the

fourth night of the great flank march he was aroused, for that

was the night of the battle in the air that decided the fate of

Holland. The aeroplanes were fighting at last, and suddenly

about him, above and below, with cries and uproar rushing out of

the four quarters of heaven, striking, plunging, oversetting,

soaring to the zenith and dropping to the ground, they came to

assail or defend the myriads below.

Secretly the Central European power had gathered his flying

machines together, and now he threw them as a giant might fling a

handful of ten thousand knives over the low country. And amidst

that swarming flight were five that drove headlong for the sea

walls of Holland, carrying atomic bombs. From north and west and

south, the allied aeroplanes rose in response and swept down upon

this sudden attack. So it was that war in the air began. Men

rode upon the whirlwind that night and slew and fell like

archangels. The sky rained heroes upon the astonished earth.

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 headlong swoop to death?

And then athwart this whirling rush of aerial duels that swooped

and locked and dropped in the void between the lamp-lights and

the stars, came a great wind and a crash louder than thunder, and

first one and then a score of lengthening fiery serpents plunged

hungrily down upon the Dutchmen's dykes and struck between land

and sea and 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 the sea,

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…

The surviving aeroplanes turned about and fled out of the sky,

like things that suddenly knowthemselves to be wicked…

Through a dozen thunderously flaming gaps that no water might

quench, the waves came roaring in upon the land…

Section 8

'We had cursed our luck,' says Barnet, 'that we could not get to

our quarters at Alkmaar that night. There, we were told, were

provisions, tobacco, and everything for which we craved. But the

main canal from Zaandam and Amsterdam was hopelessly jammed with

craft, and we were glad of a chance opening that enabled us to

get out of the main column and lie up in a kind of little harbour

very much neglected and weedgrown before a deserted house. We

broke into this and found some herrings in a barrel, a heap of

cheeses, and stone bottles of gin in the cellar; and with this I

cheered my starving men. We made fires and toasted the cheese and

grilled our herrings. None of us had slept for nearly forty

hours, and I determined to stay in this refuge until dawn and

then if the traffic was still choked leave the barge and march

the rest of the way into Alkmaar.

'This place we had got into was perhaps a hundred yards from the

canal and underneath a little brick bridge we could see the

flotilla still, and hear the voices of the soldiers. Presently

five or six other barges came through and lay up in the meer near

by us, and with two of these, full of men of the Antrim regiment,

I shared my find of provisions. In return we got tobacco. A

large expanse of water spread to the westward of us and beyond