The War of the giants by Fletcher Pratt Read online

  Wonder Stories, May, 1931

  rolling up a map. “It’s dangerous, of course,

  but as Napoleon said, ‘You can’t make an

  omelet without breaking eggs’.”

  “To be sure, to be sure,” said the fussy

  little man in a uniform covered with gold

  braid and strips of ribbon, who had just

  advanced the plan. “We must expect losses.

  We must expect quite severe losses, in fact It would not surprise me if the first division of battleship tanks were wiped out. But we will

  certainly succeed in eliminating the robot guns on the reverse slope of the heights and perhaps some of the railroad artillery also. I think it is worth it, rightly worth it. If we succeed any

  number of plans will suggest themselves, and

  with our present superiority in battleships we can well afford the loss.”

  “The first division, eh?” said the

  brown-faced general, fluttering over some

  papers. “Let’s see, that includes Vengeance,

  “W

  Glory, Thunderbolt and Caesar, with cruiser ELL, all right,” said the brown-faced general, and whippet tanks attached. The old

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  Thunderbolt. Why I commanded her once!”

  higher still a big gun in a turret atop threw a

  “Yes, yes,” said the fussy little man.

  long shadow across their work. But if the man

  “Will you be good enough to give the orders,

  with the scarred chin expected his companion

  sir? Operation CZ-4 is the index number.”

  to exhibit any sigh of nervousness at the

  The other rang a bell.

  remarks of his predecessor’s passing, he was

  “It isn’t the heat that gets you, or the

  disappointed. The small man merely gazed

  noise,” said the man with the scarred chin,

  with a languid lack of curiosity.

  licking the end of a cigarette reflectively

  “You selected duty men!” said the man

  before applying it to his lips. “It’s the rotten with the scarred chin in a tone of contempt.

  smell. Petrol, hot oil and sweat—yes, and

  “Why, that don’t mean a thing any more, with

  leather.... And that isn’t all. You have to keep all the women. What’s your woman in?”

  your mask on when they start, and those new

  “Artillery,”

  replied the short man. “At

  makes smell like rubber and medicine.”

  least, she was the last I heard. They don’t pass He lit the cigarette and blew a snort of

  artillery letters till they’re three months old.

  smoke through his nostrils. “Last time I was

  Gives away positions. Two of the kids are in

  that sick when I got out I couldn’t even take a the factories—one’s thirteen and the other

  nip of whiskey.”

  fifteen. The other one, that’s my little girl,

  “Mmmm,” murmured the short man

  she’s in the National Schools. They put her

  with the bald forehead. “And I get seasick

  there when my wife was drafted.”

  every time I go rowing on the lake.”

  “Mine’s an officer,” said the other with

  The man with the scarred chin looked

  a touch of pride, “Captain, Don’t know where

  at him sharply, “You better not be seasick.

  she is, though. Last I heard she way in charge The old man’s nuts on you late draft men that

  of a company in one of those black battalions

  lay down. What were you in before?”

  in the south. I should worry. I got a girl in the

  “Aviation. I was on motor repair. I got

  repair here, and I’m going to apply for a

  a wife and three kids, so they gave me divorce and marry her.”

  selected duty. I’m a motor man.”

  The short man grunted. After a

  “Well, I’m married too....” the man

  moment he spoke again. “Me. I don’t want no

  with the scarred chin thought for a moment.

  divorce. The old lady and me, we get along. I

  “You must be on the right forward motor. Last

  had a nice home though. Lucky we were all

  man on that job was killed quick as a wink.

  away with the wife’s folks when the war

  Shell from one of those robot guns came came. That airplane gas attack killed everyone through the casemate and burst right under the in our section and when we got back to the

  motor. Drove one of those levers clean house everything was corroded to pieces by through him. There’s the place.”

  that damn gas. Curtains fell apart when—”

  He half-turned and waved in the

  general direction of the tank that stood like

  THEY were interrupted by the ringing of a

  some questing monster in metal, snout lifted

  bell like that of a glorified alarm clock from a to sniff the air, a few yards away. Half way

  structure that might have been a pigpen in bad down the hundred-foot flank of the beast repair. The man with the scarred chin tossed workmen were busy painting a new and away the end of his cigarette.

  shining steel plate that had been welded in just

  “Come on,” he said, “that’s for

  below a projecting broadside gun.

  dinner.” Within the disreputable building a

  Above their heads two more guns flight of stone steps led down to an projected from shielded casemates, while astonishing concrete-lined catacomb, dimly

  The War of the Giants

  3

  fit, and showing long irregular marks of damp, Look it over. Duty in fifteen minutes. We’re

  like the outlines of old maps, along the wall. A joining up with the main fleet then.”

  hundred or more men were in the main room,

  The small man bent to examine the

  talking in a repressed manner and clattering

  motor, fingering its parts with practised hands, tin plates as they filed past a wicket where an and occasionally wagging one of the levers in

  orderly was distributing portions of stew, a speculative manner to test its action; then bread and coffee. Once served, they filed to

  looked about him. His motor lay in a kind of

  tables made of boards placed across trestles

  narrow shell well cut off on the right by a steel and ate silently and with speed.

  wall. At the left was the cat-walk down which

  A whistle interrupted them before the

  he had come, leading forward to another steel

  meal was finished, striking the sound of dishes wall with a door in it—the control station of

  to a momentary silence. An under-officer the tank. Astride the catwalk and between him stood at the head of the room with a list of

  and the control station the supports of the big names from which he read. The short man

  turret came down, like the stout metallic legs heard his called.

  of a titanic spider. Across the catwalk to the

  “You’re the new motor man from the

  left was another motor, its seat unoccupied.

  aviation?” the officer inquired when he had

  A prolonged series of hoots announced

  joined the group that gathered outside. “I have that the rest of the crew were b
eing called to your papers. Why weren’t you in the combat

  their quarters, and a moment later the surface sections before? Defective eyesight-.... Oh, of the catwalk rang with the impact of feet. A children. They all say that. Ever run a tank

  door beyond his seat was opened and four

  engine?”

  men crawled through it, one after another.

  “No sir,” admitted the short man.

  Through the orifice he caught a glimpse of the

  “Well, here, I’ll show you.” He led the

  gray mounting and paralleled recoil

  way to the metal monster, unlocked a door at

  mechanism of a gun with a row of shells in

  the stern and pointed the small man down a

  racks around the casemate behind it. The last

  narrow, machine-lined passage. “Mind your

  of the four gunners turned to face him as he

  head.”

  passed through the hole and he saw it was the

  “Here’s your post,” he added a man with the scarred chin. “Here we go,” he moment later, pointing to a steel chair, slightly called in encouragement. “This old tank, she’s above and behind a big motor from which a

  a lucky ship. I been in her ever since the

  wilderness of levers projected. “Throttle here.

  general used to command here.” The casemate

  Brake here, Signals on this board. Red is full door banged. An officer came down the

  speed and black is reverse. The names are on

  catwalk, dived into the control station and

  them, but they use flashes when anything goes

  emerged with an armful of packages which he

  wrong. This lever is to throw your engines in

  dealt out to the crew. The little man unfolded for the ammunition hoist of the turret. This

  his to discover a complicated vestment—

  type of tank has the eight-inch gun in the

  helmet, gas-mask and bullet-proof shirt, all in turret on top instead of in the center below.

  one, made of cross-braced strip steel. Each

  The ammunition hoist is electric, but it’s apt to bore the red hand shaking a thunderbolt that

  go out if we get hard hit. Then they have to

  was the emblem of the ship.

  use a mechanical hoist connected with your

  He struggled into the thing as a small

  engine. Watch your signal for that and never

  bell rang sharply in his ear and the indicator mind what the boys in the casemates are doing

  before him jerked to “Slow”. He threw in the

  or the man at the other engine. That’s all.

  throttle, cocked his head to catch the sound of

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  the motor, and felt the big landship bump

  a couple of machine guns had conical

  across the uneven ground as they gathered

  openings that seemed to run far back into their way. Feet tramped on a floor above his head.

  interiors.

  “What are they?” asked the little man.

  Into Battle

  “The fuzzy one is a radio machine.

  Sends sound waves to jam up the enemy’s

  THE whole structure shifted and heaved with

  robot guns and radio waves to jam their

  a motion not unlike that of a ship in a steady torpedoes. The others are gas—shoot big gas

  swell. He felt a curious qualm. Wonder if I’m

  rockets; corrosive mostly, to kill off artillery going to be seasick? He asked himself and

  and tanks.”

  banished the idea as the bell rang again and

  “Hey, Jake!” called a gunner from one

  the indicator turned red before him....

  of the whippets with a blue hammer on his

  They halted in what, when they got out

  armor, “been up to the city?”

  of the tank, proved to be a high, narrow

  “Naw. No leave no more. The city’s all

  valley, shut in by open pine forest. There was done for anyhow. They keep throwing gas in.”

  a cloistered air about the place that made the

  “But I get letters from my girl in the

  ribbon of camouflage above them seem National Schools,” objected the little man.

  grossly inappropriate. The little man pulled off

  “All right, all right,” said the other.

  his metal shirt, and observing that the others

  “But do you know where the National Schools

  had merely snapped open the face part that

  are now? They’re out in the country, along

  held the gas mask put it on again in confusion.

  with everything else. You ain’t seen any

  All around them were gathered the newspapers but army newspapers lately have ungainly rhomboids of more tanks; three other

  you? Because there ain’t any.” The

  battleships, each with its heavy turret gun atop conversation was interrupted by another series and its row of three to five broadside guns. A of hoots and the irregular eddies of men in the few whippets scurried about like insects and

  valley separated into orderly streams which

  up ahead, where the valley split in two to

  delivered themselves into the tanks again. An

  round a projecting shoulder of mountain, some

  officer came down the catwalk of the

  cruiser tanks could be seen—long and narrow

  Thunderbolt distributing the composition with two of three guns apiece.

  gloves which were the protection against

  The man with the scarred chin gave a

  corrosive gases likely to seep even into the

  glance around and a low whistle. “Must be

  air-tight interior of the tank. A fan somewhere going to be a battle,” he said, “Well, I’m glad began a screeching buzz—the air purifier that

  we’re in a lucky ship.”

  insured a gas-free supply of air for the motors His companion looked around. of the tank. A moment or two more and the

  “Where’s the infantry?” he asked innocently.

  indicators moved to “Slow” again.

  “Infantry?

  Ha,

  ha. They haven’t had

  It was dark when they halted under the

  infantry for the last two years. You wait; shadows of another forest. The gauges showed you’ll see why. Too much gas and things.

  no gas in the atmosphere; the crews stretched

  Look.”

  themselves luxuriously, with open masks,

  He pointed up the valley where three

  drifting off to sleep without a word, and being more tanks of battleship size were coming to

  awakened an hour or two later when a convoy

  join the group. One of them looked not unlike

  of provision machines brought them fresh

  a metal porcupine with spikes of wire jutting

  rations instead of the pocket tabloid food they in every direction; the others unarmed save for had expected to use. The small man ate his

  The War of the Giants

  5

  with heavy-lidded eyes, went to sleep tanks, at the edge of the wood they were immediately and did not wake again until he

  leaving. As if released by that signal, clouds felt himself shaken and woke to see a non-of intense black smoke poured from them and

  commissioned officer pointing him toward the

  from the whippets, settling along the ground

  tank.

  in tattered ribbons in the still air. There was It was in the false dawn; Lights and

  another crash of sound and a tree tottered

  luminous panels in the machine showed most

  majestically downward at the edge of the

  of th
e crew busy about some small concern,

  wood. The smoke cloud hid everything but the

  resolutely occupying themselves to relieve the whippets at its edges; the Thunderbolt rocked tension of the moment before a battle. The

  with sound as the turret gun on her roof went

  wood was filled with subdued whisperings,

  off suddenly, aimed at a target eight miles

  and rocked gently to the sound of distant, oft-away.

  repeated thunder—far-away artillery, the

  A cloud of airplanes soared like

  small man guessed, though he had not heard it

  wintering geese across the sky, and from away

  before.

  beyond the river, another cloud rose to meet

  There was a momentary pause, the bell

  them. The smoke surrounding the tanks was

  rang and the signal moved. Going into action,

  shot with vivid flame as a shell burst right

  he thought, and breathed a silent prayer that

  among them, the fragments of its casing

  this tank was indeed the “lucky ship” his ringing against their walls. Then more and acquaintance had proclaimed it.

  more shells, many of them adding a curious

  white smoke to mingle with the black

  FAR above them, out of sight in the purple-

  effluvium of the land-ships.

  black of the dawn sky, an airplane circled, and The whippets clustered and then

  its radio sprang into lively clicking as the row spread at the edge of the water, waiting for the of dots emerged from the wood and started

  larger ships to force a passage. Shells were

  like slugs across the low slope that led down

  falling more thickly now, occasionally hitting.

  to a river....

  The small man felt a great heave as his ship

  The tanks were lumbering in orderly

  passed over the remains of a whippet, blown

  ranks across the rolling slope that had once

  to disordered fragments by a direct bit; and

  been a grain field of some kind, for a few ears still there was no sign of an enemy save where of feral corn could be seen among the weeds