The Great Invasion

[nervouspete]

Hello all! A new chapter is ready!

Once again I haven't had much time to edit, so any flaws, spelling and grammar mistakes or inconsistencies please point out to me - preferably by PM so my full idiocy isn't revealed. Any overall comments - praise and criticism, is very welcome in this thread.

I've got to tell you, you'll find that this account meanders a lot. I'm keeping a narrative thread, but it is loose as I want to incorporate a lot of vingettes in the forms of transcripts and eyewitness accounts. You'll still get as many explanations as possible for the faux non-fiction crowd out there though, and I'll still be trying to explain as many David Koep plot holes as possible!

Thanks for following this, I'm pleased that you all seem to like it! Rusti, let me know what you think of the chav protagonist made good!

[nervouspete]

CHAPTER SIX

DAY ONE

LONDON CALLING – THE ONLY PUBLIC WARNING


At one stroke, all the BBC satellite feeds blanked.

“We’re down,” cried a voice from the corner of the vast open plan news room, to be echoed by other similar frustrated calls. Helen Boaden, the director of BBC news, was in the building. Maria Calvino, a young overseas student working on a placement with the BBC, remembers Helen’s words in her book, ‘Run’.

“She asked for a call to be put through to the other networks, to see if they were suffering the same problems. We quickly found out that ITV, Sky and all the others had lost their satellite feeds. Then someone called out that the digital channels must be down as well, which was strange, because they are completely separate land based system.”

It seems that the invaders had at this point released a pulse of unknown composition in the atmosphere above the North Sea, which had knocked out all sophisticated digital networks and cellular phone networks, only analogue radio remained.

“Helen ran upstairs to tell Mark Thompson, the director-general of the BBC. And then Caroline Thomson, Chief Operating Officer, came over to me and told me carry some folders over to the Radio 1 department, which carried instructions on what to do in case of mass hardware failure.”

* * *

Meanwhile the people of Britain who’d seen the broadcast were left wondering if it was a joke in incredibly bad taste or if some truly awful event was taking place. Lee Darby, writer of the one of the most affecting personal accounts of the invasion, was at the time a young unemployed man from Romford with no ambitions and little education. He was at the Romford job centre at the time of the broadcast, which was aired on the waiting room television set.

“I was there with my friend Darren; we were going to sign on and not let slip that we’d both done a little cash in hand that week. We’d the day all mapped out, sign on, then to the pub for some cheap lager, later hang around our favourite corner of the park and… you know, loiter. We were stupid eighteen year olds with all the sophistication and common sense of first year high school students. It made it even weirder, in a way – because when I saw that news report something sort of sparked inside my brain.”

Lee’s book, entitled ‘Surviving Sodom’ is unusual in the annals of post war accounts because it details his complete life before the invasion, and the psyche of the lower classes of Britain. He argues that for a certain small minority of people, rather than being a traumatic and debilitating period the invasion was an intense, brutal time of self discovery where character and intelligence, long buried by a cloying and infantile peer group encouraged by society, were suddenly thrust to the surface. Not only does he argue that it was a mixture of survival instinct and a curious breed of traumatic stress that altered character, but that an almost spiritual awakening took place. He is currently a signatory of the growing society simply called ‘New Life’, which aims to detail the positive effects of the war and its aftermath, and to try and make something better of mankind. The philosophy of ‘New Life’, founded by Frank Archer, an artillery man from Woking, is detailed in his bible ‘Underfoot’ and is studied in a supplement to this report.

Here is an extract from his book:

‘I looked up and saw this really scared looking man waving his arm at a horizon clouded by smoke and lit with green flashes. When I saw it, I felt nauseous and as if some terrible evil were approaching. I asked the porter to turn it up and he did. I walked up to the television set, followed by the half dozen other people in the waiting room. Darren was still sat down, texting a friend.

“Darren,” I said, “something seriously bad’s going on, mate.”

“You’re watching the news. You never watch the news.”

“Yeah, but this is seriously f**ked up, man.”

“Yeah, one min,” he replied and to my amazement went back to texting. I looked up at the screen and Hue Edwards was getting up from his desk. He almost fell getting out of his chair, he was that scared. And then the picture went blank.

These two women sat down and started crying and we all looked terrified. All except Darren, who looked up and shouted out, “Eh, my text didn’t f**king send!”

“What do you think that was?” asked the porter.

“Something really bad I reckon. You got a radio?”

The porter reached behind his desk and placed it on the counter, switched it on.’


Lee Darby was then to hear the opening part of Radio 1’s last broadcast. In the BBC Building Maria Calvino walked into Mark Radcliffe’s recording studio, to be greeted by his producer Leanne Hess. Here is her account which sheds light into the decisions leading to the infamous Emergency Broadcast.

‘She said, “This is one of the red folders. Why are you bringing me a red folder? You’re not supposed to touch them, send it back.” She was pretty unpleasant actually. She told me to stand in the corner whilst she rang through to Caroline Thomson but became annoyed when her mobile didn’t work. I edged over to the glass wall that Radcliffe was behind; to listen as it was one of those phone-in sections.’

* * *

(Transcript recorded offsite and loaned from Shetland Islands Safe Haven Museum)

Mark Radcliffe: “Okay, so we go now on the line to Graham Hops, of Carling. Hops – Carling, not in the brewery trade are you, Graham?”

Graham Hops: “No, Mark, it’s just a village name. Listen Mark, I was waiting on the line for your competition but my wife was just watching News 24 there and called me over. Is that some sort of sick joke you’ve got going now?”

Mark: “… don’t know what you’re talking about there, Graham. BBC 24 isn’t really one of our comedy packages. Hey, Leanne, nobody let Chris Morris on News 24, did they, or Sasha Baron Cohen?” (Mark chuckles)

Graham: “I’m serious now, Mark. My wife’s crying and you’re showing these horrific images on television. Hue Edwards walked off really scared like and it went blank.”

Mark: “… what exactly were you watching, Graham?”

Graham: “News 24. There were these alien machines and there were explosions, in Germany I think. It looked very real.”

Mark: “Ha ha, er… think you got the wrong channel there Graham. Okay, going over to line two now.”

(Quick aside from Mark to Leanne as accounted by Maria Calvino: Mark: “Nothing funny going on in the news room, is there?” Leanne: “Not that I know of.”)

Mark: “Okay, Sue Huntley, you’re on Radio 1, ready for competition time?”

Sue: “Wait a second Mark, sorry. I had the news on too and that Hops fellow is right. You might want to go check up on this because Hue Edwards looked really scared, and it didn’t look like special effects.”

Mark: “Listen Sue…”

Sue: “No, wait, Mark. It was like watching 9/11 or something. And now all the channels have gone off air. What’s going on? I mean, have you had a technical fault and switched the tapes around by accident or something? Is this some Halloween broadcast you were saving because… no, I’m sure it wasn’t. No, it’s real. F**k me; it’s real, isn’t it?”

Mark: “Okay, thank you Sue! (Cuts line off) Ever had one of those days? Okay, I’m just going to check with my producer… Leanne, have you heard anything about this?”

Leanne: “I just tried to get through to Caroline, but her mobile’s not working.”

Mark: “Caroline… Caroline Thomson? What were you phoning her for; you haven’t been stealing her milk from the canteen fridge again have you? She does this listeners, Leanne’s terrible for stealing milk.”

Leanne: (Sounding flustered) “I don’t know. Maria walked in with this red folder and…”

Mark: “Okay, okay. Whilst I find out the mystery of the red folder, and what’s going on with News 24, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of the remix that’s been storming the dance clubs, ‘Unkle feat Jeff Wayne’s 70's disco concept epic 'The Invisible Man’.”


(End first part of transcript)
* * *

We return now to Maria Calvino, who sat silently unobserved the following the corner of the room. Practised in short-hand, she was taping the following dialogue on her MP3 player.

‘At this moment Caroline Thomson entered the room. She asked Leanne to open the folder and to find the transcript on informing the public as to severe technical difficulties for Mark to read out, and further transcript on warning the public not to panic. Mark emerged from his booth. “It’s a good job that the remix is ten minutes long – what’s going on, Caroline?”

“I don’t know for sure, but a news report from Roger Harrabin in Germany showed what looked to be giant walking machines blowing up buildings. Then all our networks went down – cellular and digital. Look at your light, Leanne. You’re only going out on analogue.”

“Sh*t, I hadn’t noticed, what now?” said Leanne.

“We’re phoning through on the hard-line to Downing Street, see what they know...”

Then Mark Thompson walks in, looking visibly shaken. “We’re to play the unspecified Emergency Broadcast tape. You know; the new non-nuclear one they made.”

“What are you talking about, Mark?” asked Leanne.

“The tape without Patrick Allen, the one Tom Baker voiced. The one that goes out on the phones and on the… well, it would have gone on TV. That’s knackered now. The one for radio and phones: The Emergency Broadcast system warning.”

“We’re at war?” asked Mark Radcliffe, incredulously.

“I don’t know! All I know is that the MOD phoned saying that there was a critical non-nuclear situation in Europe that threatened national security; and that we had to play the tape. I asked him what it was all about and he said that they knew about as much as what we saw through Roger, only that it was all over Eastern Europe. I pressed a contact about it and they said that they’re phoning Washington about it. This is big stuff.”

The room suddenly felt very cold and the stomach very tight.’

* * *

They played the tape. As Caroline was patiently explaining to a flustered Leanne on how to load the machine, Maria slipped quietly out the door and the building – heading what was to be a long walk home to Highbury, and later to the country. Caroline was to be one of the ‘hunched’, the term bandied about for those who had a strange feeling as to what was coming and consciously or not followed a path of survival from the early minutes.


The atmosphere was already tense in the job centre. For all the short time they ran, the images on the report packed a powerful punch on those who saw them. It had been believed for sometime that computer generated imagery, so beloved of modern television and cinema, had reached the point where with enough time and money a generated image would be indistinguishable from reality. The images filmed by Michael Hamm showed this to be a misconception. The stark footage shot was too horrifyingly real to be discounted as fake.

The Amon Tobin mix suddenly ceased, to be replaced by a long flat note followed by the voice of Tom Baker. Tom Baker was something of a famous figure in the UK owing to his cult television work and as the voice of British Telecom’s landline voice-text service. He was remembered as an endearing, eccentric fellow with a rich warm voice full of ham and fun. It was not a voice he used for the Emergency System Warning broadcast batch 29.

“This is the Emergency System Warning Broadcast. If this is a test, it will be followed by regular programming. A major incident has occurred in Europe involving a massive conventional attack of unknown origin. We stress that the incident is not of a nuclear, chemical or biological nature but of a conventional explosive nature. We ask you not to panic, but to take the following steps. One: Remain where you are. Do not travel. Leaving your location will hinder the movements of emergency and security services and may expose you to danger outside. Two: Stay tuned to this channel, which will update with a bulletin every half hour. If your radio is running on batteries, switch off the radio five minutes after this broadcast, and switch on again for the half-hour broadcast. Three: Do not panic - instead take an inventory of your surroundings. Bottle water, secure food and stay away from windows. If you have a vulnerable neighbour, take them in. Four: Be vigilant and take cover away from flying glass if sirens sound, either under the stairs, in the basement or under the table. This is the Emergency System Warning Broadcast. If this is a test, we will now return to regular programming.”

Extract from ‘Surviving Sodom’ by Lee Darby.

‘The broadcast ceased. A quiet hysteria descended upon the people of Romford job centre.

“What the f**k was that about?” asked Darren.

I picked up my backpack and walked over to Darren. “There’s Sanjay’s down the road. His dad owns the newsagent.”

“You know Sanjay?”

“Wonder where I got that six pack of lager two days from giro-day? I helped fix his bike the other week. They’ve got the radio playing all the time there, man. They’ll know what’s what.”

I considered Darren’s face, he clearly didn’t have an idea what was going on. “They’ve got food and a basement. Let’s drop by, have a chat with Sanjay and if anything kicks off then we can do some shopping. We’ve got forty-eight pounds in our pockets and I’d rather use it in a place we can buy some food, before the panic sets in.”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re on about, man. Just because Doctor Who gets on the radio and talks bollocks doesn’t mean you should start getting weird on me. Let’s go home and watch that Hostel. I’ve got it on pirate DVD.”

I shook my head. “You’re choice man, but I tell you, I can feel it coming. Something bad’s coming.” I walked out and down the street. It wasn’t much quieter than usual; in fact there was a fair amount of traffic – people emerging from work and cars tearing off places. Still, a lot of people didn’t seem to have heard or seen any broadcast, and were doing their normal routines. I went down to Sanjay’s. His dad liked me for some reason; think it was because Sanjay didn’t have many friends – and because I’d never told him how I used to pickpocket from the place. So I hung out in the back room there. Since I told you about how mum died, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that I never thought to call my dad. Not that it would have done much good; he was probably down the boozer anyway. Sanjay’s dad now, he was a good man, and he did a lot of phoning around when the lines were freed from the broadcast message. Took a peek and saw they had a good basement too, so I decided to stay. It was a good thing I did – as London was hit not long later.’

* * *

As no counter message came through, and the channels remained dead, a slow panic began to grip London. Mouth to mouth news of the broadcasts began to spread through the office places, the homes and the streets. People noticed the sudden presence of riot police assembling outside stations, in alleys and parks. Panic buying began to hit the shops in a rush and grab wave that swept people up and knocked over shelves and trolleys. As strange clouds began to form over the capital, some began to be truly gripped by terror. And yet not all, many remained contemptuous of the broadcast or blissfully ignorant. Two thirds of the population were still going about their daily lives, as if they were too embedded in daily routine and idle thought to break out. But a low key angst was still spreading, and when the time the lightning storm came this was to inflame into terror.

Next Chapter: The invasion spreads - Netherlands and Denmark, Paris and London.

[GoA]

Hm, another good chapter.

[Tripod]

Wow, nice work. Pete, I'd really love to help you when you're writing about the Netherlands. An eyewitness report, maybe?
PM me if you're also interested.

Tripod

[krakatoa]

Hi there Pete, i have read a part of it, i dont have time right now to read more, i will come back, because it is really very good stuff, i like it a lot, this is Amazing, i think you will make a succes with that, i like it very very much!!!

Chantale.

[cinemapacific]

Just came upon this. Great writing. I wish the movie had been so expressive. If you get around to (or care to cover) the battle over the hill that Mr. Spielberg neglected to show us, I would be so appreciative. I really felt that I had been deprived of the 10-million-dollar VFX sequence (years ago we would have called it the "Million-Dollar shot," but that's passe' now).

When you're done you really ought look into publishing it, if you haven't already. Some here could help you.

Rod

[cinemapacific]

PS: Wouldn't it make a fun faux "Modern Marvels: The Tripods from Space"?