Summary

Portrait of William Le Queux William Le Queux The Invasion of 1910 — Book III

Night fell—a hot, fevered night, breathless and ominous of the storm to come. Before us, across the Thames, lay London, wrecked, broken, but not yet conquered. In an hour its streets would become, we knew, a perfect hell of shot and shell. The oil lamps in Wellington Street, opposite Somerset House, threw a weird light upon the enemy's counter-barricade, and we could distinctly see Germans moving, preparing for a defence of their position, should we dare to cross the bridge.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of William Le Queux William Le Queux The Invasion of 1910 — Book III

A way was quickly opened in the obstruction, and two minutes later we were pouring across Waterloo Bridge in thousands, shouting and yelling in triumph as we passed the ruins of the enemy's barricade, and fell upon him with merciless revenge. With us were many women, who were, perhaps, fiercer and more unrelenting than the men. Indeed, many a woman that night killed a German with her own hands, firing revolvers in their faces, striking with knives, or even blinding them with vitriol and allowing them to be despatched by others.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of William Le Queux William Le Queux The Invasion of 1910 — Book III

The night air was rent everywhere by the hoarse, exultant shouts as London—the giant, all-powerful city—fell upon the audacious invader. Through our windows in Carmelite Street came the dull roar of London's millions swelled by the Defenders from the west and south of England, and by the gallant men from Canada, India, the Cape, and other British colonies who had come forward to fight for the Mother country as soon as her position was known to be critical.
Source: Wikisource

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