Read Online 1920: America's Great War-eARC by Robert Conroy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert Conroy
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something was terribly wrong.
They trekked eastward, destroying bridges and cutting telegraph and telephone lines. The weather was getting steadily worse. Large wet flakes of snow covered the ground, and collected on their hats and coats. Walking was becoming difficult, and the horses were struggling through the deep slop. They were running out of time. Soon they would have to concern themselves with their own survival, and not about any rail lines.
Wulflram was a man with a sense of duty. He needed to make sure he’d done his part in isolating California from the rest of the United States. Before the inevitable happened and they had to give in to the weather, he hoped for a target that would really cripple this particular line through the mountains.
And there it was. He gazed in wonder at a cut made in the side of a mountain to accommodate the tracks and realized the potential for long-term destruction. Where a bridge could be rebuilt, a mountain could not. A new cut would have to be made, carved like this one into the living rock. Certainly not impossible, since the Americans had done it, but definitely an awesome project that would take a considerable amount of time and resources. If the cut was destroyed, it would be a long time before trains came through this section of the mountains.
He placed a good deal of his remaining supply of dynamite into holes drilled below the tracks and into the mountainside. They connected the wiring and retreated to the other side of the steep valley. This would be their last demolition. They would head east and out of the mountains, hopefully to warmer places. His men deserved a respite and so did he.
Wulfram pushed the plunger and a number of explosions erupted in a line along the cut. For a second, nothing seemed to happen; then the entire side of the mountain slide down into the valley. Two hundred yards of track and earth had simply disappeared into the valley below.
He and his men were congratulating themselves when they heard the whistle of a train coming from the east. They stared at each other in surprise and dismay. For safety’s sake they were a couple of hundred yards away from the demolished cut and the intervening terrain was extremely rugged. There was no way they could get to the other side and warn the oncoming train.
The train’s whistle sounded again and this time dramatically closer. Wulfram prayed that it was a freight train, which would lessen the number of innocent lives lost if the engineer couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t. As it rounded the last bend, he saw four passenger cars connected to the coal burning engine and coal car. He was close enough to see people looking out the windows and he swore they were staring at him, damning and accusing him as if they already knew their fate. At nearly the last instant, the engineer saw the danger and slammed on the brakes which let out an obscene screech.
The train shuddered and slowed, and the Germans held their breath, hoping it would stop in time. It almost did. But, slowly, horribly, it reached the break and fell with majestic slowness down into the valley, with the cars tumbling over and over like toys thrown by a demonic child. The sound of the cars crashing and disintegrating was covered by the roar of the of the engine’s boiler exploding. Clouds of white steam and brown clouds of dust surged skyward. Moments later, flames began to flicker from the now silent wreckage.
Wulfram and his men ran down into the valley to rescue as many of the passengers as they could. What they found, however, was a valley strewn with wreckage and mangled corpses. Only a literal handful had survived, and two of those were small children. Wulfram wept as did several of his men.
He gave orders to tap into the telegraph lines and report the “accidental train wreck,” but the lines to the West Coast had already been severed by his men. They sent the message eastward and got a response. Rescuers were on the way, but it would be a
They trekked eastward, destroying bridges and cutting telegraph and telephone lines. The weather was getting steadily worse. Large wet flakes of snow covered the ground, and collected on their hats and coats. Walking was becoming difficult, and the horses were struggling through the deep slop. They were running out of time. Soon they would have to concern themselves with their own survival, and not about any rail lines.
Wulflram was a man with a sense of duty. He needed to make sure he’d done his part in isolating California from the rest of the United States. Before the inevitable happened and they had to give in to the weather, he hoped for a target that would really cripple this particular line through the mountains.
And there it was. He gazed in wonder at a cut made in the side of a mountain to accommodate the tracks and realized the potential for long-term destruction. Where a bridge could be rebuilt, a mountain could not. A new cut would have to be made, carved like this one into the living rock. Certainly not impossible, since the Americans had done it, but definitely an awesome project that would take a considerable amount of time and resources. If the cut was destroyed, it would be a long time before trains came through this section of the mountains.
He placed a good deal of his remaining supply of dynamite into holes drilled below the tracks and into the mountainside. They connected the wiring and retreated to the other side of the steep valley. This would be their last demolition. They would head east and out of the mountains, hopefully to warmer places. His men deserved a respite and so did he.
Wulfram pushed the plunger and a number of explosions erupted in a line along the cut. For a second, nothing seemed to happen; then the entire side of the mountain slide down into the valley. Two hundred yards of track and earth had simply disappeared into the valley below.
He and his men were congratulating themselves when they heard the whistle of a train coming from the east. They stared at each other in surprise and dismay. For safety’s sake they were a couple of hundred yards away from the demolished cut and the intervening terrain was extremely rugged. There was no way they could get to the other side and warn the oncoming train.
The train’s whistle sounded again and this time dramatically closer. Wulfram prayed that it was a freight train, which would lessen the number of innocent lives lost if the engineer couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t. As it rounded the last bend, he saw four passenger cars connected to the coal burning engine and coal car. He was close enough to see people looking out the windows and he swore they were staring at him, damning and accusing him as if they already knew their fate. At nearly the last instant, the engineer saw the danger and slammed on the brakes which let out an obscene screech.
The train shuddered and slowed, and the Germans held their breath, hoping it would stop in time. It almost did. But, slowly, horribly, it reached the break and fell with majestic slowness down into the valley, with the cars tumbling over and over like toys thrown by a demonic child. The sound of the cars crashing and disintegrating was covered by the roar of the of the engine’s boiler exploding. Clouds of white steam and brown clouds of dust surged skyward. Moments later, flames began to flicker from the now silent wreckage.
Wulfram and his men ran down into the valley to rescue as many of the passengers as they could. What they found, however, was a valley strewn with wreckage and mangled corpses. Only a literal handful had survived, and two of those were small children. Wulfram wept as did several of his men.
He gave orders to tap into the telegraph lines and report the “accidental train wreck,” but the lines to the West Coast had already been severed by his men. They sent the message eastward and got a response. Rescuers were on the way, but it would be a
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