Earlier today Martian Tripods were seen advancing towards Dartmouth. This time they were joined by a larger tripod, more heavily armed and armored than any seen before. None the less, the defenders were determined that the Martians would not pass, even three Tripods breaking through would be a disaster.
At first the Martians appeared intent to force their way straight up the road but once the Earth defenders rushed tanks and infantry to block their way, the Tripods turned and strode to their right.
A platoon of motorcycle Roughriders sped out to meet them.
From one of the Tripods a beam of light swept across the field, vaporizing one section. Moments later a second beam wiped out a second section but the brave men of the third section pressed forward, machine gun blazing. Quick as thought they roared into the safety of the narrow alleys of a small hamlet.
After a short pause the Bikers seized the initiative and emerged right underneath a tripod before it could fire. A tow wire shot out wrapping around the monstrous legs rendering it immobile as they dashed back to cover. Every gun blazed at tangled tripod.
Leaving the immobilized tripod to engage and delay the defenders, the other three Tripods strode away to flank the humans and break through. The defenders rushed to block them, tanks steaming forward full strength, guns blazing. At first the tall Tripod seemed invulnerable but then a shot bounced up into a small opening and.....
While the Martians were distracted the Heroic Roughriders spun out of a cloud of dust to loop first one, then another, tow cable around the rear Tripod. While it struggled to free itself the tanks closed in, guns blazing.
Across the field, the first hogtied Tripod was under close assault by waves of infantry. After shooting wildly, the Tripod suddenly stirred and attempted to free itself only to crash and be destroyed.
Suddenly a 5th tripod strode onto the battlefield, a duplicate of the tall one, indistinguishable from it to the human eye. Its massive gun flamed out, sweeping the tanks from the field and wiping the central hill free of machine guns. The wounded tripod struggled, first wrenching a joint but finally freeing itself. The three tripods then strode across the open fields towards their objective. The tall one lingering, using its heavier armour to shield the wounded tripod as they pulled away from the pursuing enemy.
The humans weren't out of tricks yet as more soldiers swarmed out of ambush positions and rushed to get long range shots at the retreating enemy. Even if they could find an opening, experts gave them no more than a 5% chance of bringing down the wounded tripod.
It had been four hours since the first shot had been fired. The Martians were poised on tbe far edge of battleground. Looking back over the smoking battlefield, time seemed to slow to a crawl for Rifleman Ron. Spotting an opening between a palm grove and the second tall tripod and noting the damage caused when the tripod broke free from the tow cables, he drew aim squeezed. The bullet struck the rent in its armour, ricocheted up into the cockpit and struck the pilot. The tripod shuddered, lurched, and toppled to the ground. The incursion had been halted!
From the tall Tripod rose a chilling cry:
The previously promised review of One Hour Wargames will be published on Friday.