Jeff Wayne - War Of The Worlds
Columbia  (1978)
Rock Opera

In Collection

7*
CD  94:58
12 tracks
War Of The Worlds - CD 1  (45:08)
   01   The Eve Of The War             09:06
   02   Horsell Commom And The Heat Ray             11:36
   03   The Artilleryman And The Fighting Machine             10:36
   04   Forever Autumn             07:43
   05   Thunder Child             06:07
The War Of Worlds - CD 2  (49:50)
   01   The Red Weed (part 1)             05:55
   02   The Spirit Of Man             11:40
   03   The Red Weed (part 2)             06:51
   04   Brave New World             12:12
   05   Dead London             08:37
   06   Epilogue (part 1)             02:45
   07   Epilogue (part 2)             01:50
Personal Details
Details
Country United Kingdom
Spars DDD
Sound Stereo
Notes
http://members.aol.com/skyyeyes/jwwow.htm

Jeff Wayne - The War of the Worlds


"No one would have believed, in the last years of the nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched from the timeless worlds of space. No one could have dreamed we were being scrutinized, as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered the possibility of life on other planets and yet, across the gulf of space, minds immeasurably superior to ours regarded this Earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely, they drew their plans against us."
The beginning of this story goes way back before anybody had even heard of the term 'progressive rock', let alone names like Pink Floyd, Yes and Genesis.

Back in 1898 science fiction writer H.G. Wells (The Time Machine, The Invisible Man) published his new novel The War of the Worlds. The book dealt with an invasion of England by Martians and their attempt to take over our planet. Wells was somewhat of a prophet; in his novels he wrote about various things which would de invented in the new century to work havoc among humankind. Examples are air bombings, tanks, gas warfare and nuclear weapons.
The book can be read on-line at one of the following sites: Online Literature Library, Study Guide for H.G. Wells or The War of the Worlds Home Page.

Wells was still alive when 23-year old Orson Welles created his radio broadcast show based on the novel in 1938. At 8:00 PM, on the evening of October 30, 1938, six million Americans listened to the broadcast describing the extraterrestrial invasion. The whole performance was so real that one million people actually believed that it was really happening. Most people sustained their fears but thousands reacted in sheer panic.
One of the newspapers wrote: In Newark, in a single block at Heddon Terrace and Hawthorne Avenue, more than twenty families rushed out of their houses with wet handkerchiefs and towels over their faces to flee from what they believed was to be a gas raid. Some began moving household furniture. Throughout New York families left their homes, some to flee to near-by parks. Thousands of persons called the police, newspapers and radio stations here and in other cities of the United States and Canada seeking advice on protective measures against the raids.

Afterwards, the one-hour broadcast turned out to be more than just a radio play; it had been a psychological warfare experiment. Radio listeners had kept their radios tuned for weeks, listening for news about the possible war starting in Europe. Since the show was presented as newsflashes between the performance of an orchestra, it sounded very realistic. The newsflashes told the people that a huge flaming object, believed to be a meteorite, fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grovers Mill, New Jersey. Later on a New York reporter took over and told the people about the evacuation of New York. The code name which was used at the end of the show, 2X2L, could be interpreted as 'double cross (2x) to hell (2L)'.

The Movie
In 1953 George Pal's movie version of The War of the Worlds hit the cinemas. The film was a typical fifties piece of science fiction. The special effects were outstanding for that time and still stand up quite well today, which cannot be said about the acting talents of the players. The makers of the movie also took a lot of freedom with Wells' original story, turning it into a thinly disguised love story.
In April 1999 the movie was released on DVD.

Jeff Wayne's Musical Version
With such a dramatic concept, which had already made it into a book, a radio play and a movie, it was only a matter of time before somebody would set the whole thing to music. That somebody was Jeff Wayne.
Jeff, a son of singer/actor/musical producer Jerry Wayne, started his muscial career by composing the score form his farther's West End musical Two Cities. Lots of composing, arranging and producing of commercials, radio & TV themes, films and records followed, among which many hit records for David Essex.

The music of The War of the Worlds was composed, orchestrated, conducted and produced by Jeff. Gary Osborne and Paul Vigrass helped out with writing the lyrics, while Doreen Wayne wrote the script, based upon Wells' novel. The person who ended up doing the narrative section in the role of 'The Journalist' was movie star Richard Burton. Other people who played roles in the story were Julie 'Don't Cry for me Argentina' Covington (Beth), David Essex (The Artilleryman) and Thin Lizzy's Phil Lynott (Parson Nathaniel). All three of these also lent their vocals to the songs on the album, while Manfred Man's Chris Thompson and Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues both also sang on the album.

As in the book, the story on the album is divided up in two pieces. The first album/CD covers 'The Coming of the Martians' in 5 songs, while the second album/CD covers 'The Earth Under the Martians' in 7 more tracks.
The whole composition is build around several recurring musical themes and consists of long instrumental sections, songs with lyrics and spoken narratives. Add a powerful (string) orchestra, spooky sound effects and lots of keyboard and guitar noises. The whole forms a perfect combination, which is only intensified by the marvellous artwork and 6 coloured pictures depicting scenes from the story.

Jeff Wayne's version of the story is much more true to the original than Orson Welles' version or the 1953 movie ever was. It tells the listener how the first cylinder lands on Earth in the uptempo Eve of the War (9.06), on which Justin Hayward does the vocals ('The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one' he said). In Horsell Common and the Heat Ray (11.36) a menacing bass line accompanies the unscrewing of the cylinder, after which Jo Partridge's guitar sweeps the land as the Martian's terrible Heat Ray.
Side 2 of the original double LP opened with The Artilleryman and the Fighting Machine (10.36) in which the journalist meets the young soldier (David Essex) for the first time and sees the Martian's fighting machines while he travels to London. The other two tracks on this side are the beautiful ballad Forever Autumn (7.43), sung by Justin Hayward, in which the journalist finds the home of his love (Carrie) in London deserted. In Thunderchild, sung by Chris Thompson, he sees how Carrie manages to escape from the harbour of London on a streamer that is defended against the Martian fighting machines by war ship Thunderchild. At the end of side 2 Thunderchild is destroyed and the Earth falls under the reign to the Martians.
Musically this second LP side contains some recurring themes from the first two songs, as well as some new themes which would be revisited later.

The third side (or second CD) opens with the first part of an exceptionally spooky piece, The Red Weed (5.55). The journalist wanders through the landscape which is now covered by the red weed which gives Mars its red colour. The eerie orchestrated music perfectly captures the atmosphere of this scene. In The Spirit of Man (11.41) he meets the insane Parson Nathaniel (Lynott), who thinks the Martians are actually devils, and his wife Beth (Covington). A powerful ballad emerges between these two. When a cylinder lands on the house where the three are hiding, Beth dies. When Nathaniel goes into a frenzy the journalist has to knock him down, after which the Parson gets dragged away by an alien.
The journalist travels back towards London in The Red Weed (part 2) (6.51) which closes side 3 of the double album.
On side 4 the journalist meets the artilleryman (David Essex) again in Brave New World (12.13). The soldier, now quite mad, sings about his plan to build an new underground society in this powerful, bombastic piece. The journalist decides to leave this dreamer and in Dead London (8.37), which starts as a very sad piece but later turns into a reprise of the theme of The Eve of the War, he comes to a final confrontation with the invaders. Just when he thinks that he is about to die, he notices that all of the Martians have succumbed to the only earthly threat they hadn't counted on; bacteria.
The album closes with two epilogues, in the optimistic Epilogue (part 1) (2.42) the journalist tells how the remaining people picked up their daily live again. Feeling relieved ? Well, just when you thought it was save to go back in the water a 1999 landing-craft expedition to Mars goes missing while strange flares start to emerge from the planet in Epilogue (part 2) (NASA) (2.02).

On June 9, 1978 Jeff Wayne's musical version of The War of the Worlds was released with a spectacular multi-media launch at the London Planetarium. It stayed in the UK charts for 6 years, reaching multi-platinum status. Worldwide sales are currently estimated at 6 million copies. There have even been versions in other languages for Latin America, Germany and Spain !
The album also won several awards.

Two singles taken from the album had international succes; edited versions of the delicate Forever Autumn and The Eve of the War, with its spinet-like keyboards and string orchestra. The latter was rereleased in 1989 and topped the UK pop, dance and 12" charts. In the same year the double album and single were relaunched in Holland and both ended up in the top 5.

In 1995 the album was re-released on CD, using new standard technology. This new version includes four new tracks; the so-called New Files 95. Of these four tracks only the reggea/dub version of The Spirit of Man is worth while. The other tracks, Dark Autumn Dub (a techno tune using samples from the original album but otherwise completely unrelated to the original music), Forever Autumn (remix 95) (with a new rhythm track) and The Eve of the War (remix 95) (another remix with no added value) are completely forgetable and a waste of disc space. I certainly don't see them as a tribute to the originals, rather as parodies.

Jeff Wayne's project is often mistaken for a movie soundtrack and can therefore often be found in the soundtrack sections at record stores.

And this isn't all. The War of the Worlds has also been released in various comic book versions, various sequels to the book, a television series sequel to the movie. audio sequels to the radio broadcast and most recently even a strategic computer game based on Jeff Wayne's musical version !

Can't get enough of this Martian stuff ? Visit the The Complete War of the Worlds Web Site for loads of additional information.

In 1992, fourteen years after the release of War of the Worlds, Jeff Wayne released his follow-up album Spartacus. This album features Anthony Hopkins, Ladysmith Black Mambazo (Paul Simon), Jimmy Helms (Londonbeat), Fish, Chris Thompson, Bill Fredericks (Drifters), Jo Partridge on guitar again and many others. Although the album features some wonderful music and the feel and style comes very close to that of War of the Worlds the album never really reaches the hights of its predecessor and never became a big success. Maybe it's because the albums tries to sound 'too modern' at times and therefore rather unnatural, or maybe Jeff just tried to hard to recreate War of the Worlds ......

Ed Sander




Disc One - The Coming Of The Martians
1 The Eve Of The War - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton, Justin Hayward
2 Horsell Common And The Heat Ray - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton
3 The Artilleryman And The Fighting Machine - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton, David Essex
4 Forever Autumn - Richard Burton, Justin Hayward
5 Thunder Child - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton, Chris Thompson

Disc Two (Other Disc) - The Earth Under The Martians
1 The Red Weed (Part 1) - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton
2 The Spirit Of Man - Richard Burton, Phil Lynott, Julie Covington
3 The Red Weed (Part 2) - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton
4 Brave New World - Richard Burton, David Essex
5 Dead London - Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton
6 Epilogue (Part 1) - Richard Burton
7 Epilogue (Part 2) (NASA) - Jerry Wayne

The New Files '96
8 The Spirit Of Man (DubUlladub) Phil Lynott, Julie Covington
9 Forever Autumn (Remix '96) JustinHayward
10 Forever Autumn (Dark Autumn Dub) Jeff Wayne, Richard Burton, Justin Hayward
11The Eve Of The War (Pi-R-Squared-H Mix) Richard Burton, Justin Hayward, Jerry Wayne




Wayne, Jeff - War Of The Worlds

Release Date: 1978

Track Listing
Disc One
1) The Eve Of The War (9:06)
2) Horsell Common And The Heat Ray (11:36)
3) The Artillery Man And The Fighting Machine (10:28)
4) Forever Autumn (7:55)
5) Thunder Child (6:02)

Disc Two
1) The Red Weed (Part 1) (5:51)
2) The Spirit Of Man (11:36)
3) The Red Weed (Part 2) (7:00)
4) Brave New World (12:08)
5) Dead London (8:37)
6) Epilogue (4:35)

Member: ffroyd

Jeff Wayne's musical adaptation of the H.G. Wells classic tale War Of The Worlds is an often overlooked and intensely beautiful rock opera.

Expertly narrated by Richard Burton, the album features the speaking and singing talents of David Essex, Lisa Covington, Justin Hayward (Moody Blues), Phil Lynott (Thin Lizzy), Chris Thompson (Manfred Mann's Earth Band), among others.

The music is quite wonderfully arranged around the story and features some great sound effects and synthesizers played by Jeff Wayne, Ken Freeman and someone/something known as Pest. Chris Spedding plays some great guitar on the album as well. Although it's quite interesting to follow along with the libretto, the music is strong enough to carry the album on it's own.

Also supporting the story is the gloriously doomy artwork in the booklet. The one that comes with the LP would make a very good argument for buying the old vinyl version. The paintings of the Martian spacecraft devouring the Earth done by Geoff Taylor and Michael Trim are quite detailed and add a great deal to the overall concept.

Even though it's mostly narrative with instrumental interludes there are a few nice songs on the album. There was also a minor radio hit that came from the album, "Forever Autumn", sung by Justin Hayward. I'd say most folks who liked Rick Wakeman's Journey To The Center Of The Earth album might really be able to appreciate this one.

Ulla!





Jeff Wayne-War of the Worlds



Columbia C2K 35290


Overall Review


This album is a rock opera based on the classic H. G. Wells book War of the Worlds. It is a very theatric work, somewhat more musical theater than rock album. However, the music here is quite good and very progressive rock oriented. A sign of the times in which it was recorded, disco influences appear at various points in the album. Today they serve somewhat as a nostalgic indication of the time from which the album originated.

Featured performers joining Jeff Wayne on this album include Richard Burton, Julie Covington, David Essex, Justin Hayward (Moody Blues), Phil Lynott (Thin Lizzy), Jo Partridge, and Chris Thompson (Manfred Mann`s Earth Band).


Track by Track Review

Disc 1

The Eve of the War:The beginning of this track is a narration by Richard Burton setting up the background for the story. Dramatic, orchestrated tones take us out of the narration. One of the main themes of the album makes its first appearance here. The piece encompasses prog leanings, drama, disco and alien based tones to set a nice overview for the work and many of the varied segments here make appearances throughout the album, binding the work together. More narration, describing the missiles making their way to Earth from Mars, acts as a break to the music. As the narrated tale continues, more of the projectiles come from Mars, although "the chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one". Justin Hayward`s vocals lend a Moody Blues oriented feel to the piece, and as the narration continues, we find that the first cylinder has landed.

Horsell Common and the Heat Ray:A bass guitar drives the opening segments of this piece as we hear the sounds of the cylinder unscrewing. Narration describes the crowd and happenings as the lid falls and the Martian emerges. A very entertaining section of music gives its own description of this otherworldly scene. Narration then describes the first use of the heat ray, and the music increases in intensity while slight disco tones again make an appearance. The narration continues the story, as the song persists in its evolution, while bringing its own themes back. As the piece ends, soldiers have gathered in close to the area, and a second cylinder has arrived.

The Artillery-Man and the Fighting Machine:Musical themes begun in the last track continue here, with more `70`s type influences. The piece is essentially a conversation between the narrator (a journalist) and artillery-man. We find that the Martians have built a fighting machine and fought their way through the gathered resistance. As the music continues throughout the cut, more disco influences make their appearance, but the feel is still quite prog. The tripod fighting machines work their way across the British countryside bringing destruction with them. As the heat ray strikes the nearby town, we first hear the Martians` howl, which is followed by a nice keyboard flourish.

Forever Autumn:A narration sets the tone for the first real song on the album. This is a beautiful Moody Blues styled ballad sung by Justin Hayward. Forever Autumn is a love song nestled amongst the larger story unfolding. The song does include more narration of the story, but it cannot take away from the beauty of the piece. As the narration continues, London is devastated by the Martians.

Thunder Child:This song (complete with narration sections) tells of the battle fought by the war ship Thunder Child against the Martians. As a symbol of Earth`s last hope against the invaders, the ship is sunk as more cylinders make their descent to Earth. Musically, this is a pop song with progish influences, and is ended by the Martian howl and other side effects.

Disc 2

The Red Weed (Part 1):A weird tone pervades the piece as the landscape begins to resemble Mars due to the growth of red Martian weed. Pretty, but melancholy, tones begin to emerge from the strangeness of the piece, but an otherworldly texture still dominates. This track is very prog in nature, seeming even to be a bit reminiscent of some of Rick Wakeman`s more ambitious works.

The Spirit of Man:This number, in many ways, is more theater than song, but does contain vocal sections (Phil Lynott and Julie Covington) which are quite strong. In fact, much of these vocal sections, and the music surrounding them, are powerful and uplifting against the bleak situation surrounding them. However, even these sung vocal segments are in the form of dialogue, adding to the theatrical texture of the composition.

The Red Weed (Part 2):This cut reprises the weirdness of the first version of The Red Weed. Again more theatric in nature, the piece continues to advance the story. Central musical themes to the work, first seen in the initial track, also re-emerge here.

Brave New World:Essentially a madman`s dream of rebuilding the Earth, this is a dramatic piece. The majority of the song is a monologue (some spoken, some sung) set to symphonic prog music.

Dead London:Sounds of desolation begin this track, and echoes of themes from the opening segment of the album appear here. The mood of this piece is very effective, and again the central theme makes a solid appearance. Amongst the devastation, and weirdness, the Martians meet their end before our narrator`s eyes. Victorious tones signify the resurgence of man.

Epilogue:This piece starts with spoken word and sound effects. It is an augmentation to the original story, and shows the beginnings of a new invasion.

Email To musicstjournal@hotmail.com
c2000, Music Street Journal





Jeff Wayne - "The War of the Worlds" (1978)

One of the most popular and entertaining concept-albums of progressive rock was ironically enough released at the height of the punk-era, and made by someone who usually wasn't associated with progressive rock at all. Before 1978, Jeff Wayne wasn't "known" for much else than being the producer of (yuck!) David Essex. But that changed soon when he composed and arranged his ambitious musical interpretation of H.G. Wells' classic sci-fi tale "The War of the Worlds". The resulting double-album became against all odds a huge commercial success. Musically it was clearly modelled after Rick Wakeman's "Journey to the Centre of the Earth". Wayne himself played the keyboards and also conducted a few orchestrated passages, while Chris Spedding played most of the guitar. Wayne was of course no Wakeman or Emerson, but he used the best and most tasteful synth-sounds you can get, along with other keyboards like the Harpsichord. Drummer Barry Morgan along with several others on percussion delivered a steady beat through the whole album. And the guest list itself is rather interesting. The narrator and main person in the piece was none else than Richard Burton, while such wildly different artists as Justin Hayward, Phil Lynott, Chris Thompson, David Essex and Julie Covington acted out the other characters in the story. For those of you who aren't familiar with Wells' tale, it told the story of some very evil aliens from Mars who invades the earth. They use some gigantic and destructive machines to wipe out all resistance of the humans, and manage for some short time to conquer the earth. But of course, the few surviving people gather together and finally find a way to destroy the aliens. The music is very strong all the way through, and always melts the narrative parts perfectly together with the beautiful vocal-parts and the strongly melodic instrumental themes. I don't see any reason to point out any specific tracks here, as this album must be heard from start to finish to work properly. And if you do that, you're in for over 90 minutes of some of the most entertaining conceptual and theatrical music caught on vinyl. Highly recommended.






Part one: The Coming of the Martians

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No one would have believed, in the last years of the nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched from the timeless worlds of space. No one could have dreamed that we were being scrutinized as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered the possibility of life on other planets. And yet, across the gulf of space, minds immeasurably superior to ours regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely, they drew their plans against us.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Eve of the War
At midnight, on the 12th of August, a huge mass of luminous gas erupted from Mars and sped towards Earth. Across two hundred million miles of void, invisibly hurtling towards us, came the first of the missiles that were to bring so much calamity to Earth. As I watched, there was another jet of gas. It was another missile, starting on its way.
And that's how it was for the next ten nights. A flare, spurting out from Mars. Bright green, drawing a green mist behind it; a beautiful, but somehow disturbing sight. Ogilby, the astronomer, assured me we were in no danger. He was convinced there could be no living thing on that remote, forbidding planet.

The Astronomer
Chorus
The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, he said (ahh, ahh)
The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, but still, they come...

Then came the night the first missile approached Earth. It was thought to be an ordinary falling star, but next day there was a huge crater in the middle of the common, and Ogilby came to examine what lay there. A cylinder, thirty yards across, glowing hot, with faint sounds of movement coming from within. Suddenly the top began moving: rotating, unscrewing; and Ogilby feared there was a man inside trying to escape. He rushed to the cylinder but the intense heat stopped him before he could burn himself on the metal.

Chorus
The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, he said (ahh, ahh)
The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, but still, they come...
Yes, the chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, he said (ahh, ahh)
The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, but still, they come...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Horsell Common and the Heat Ray
It seems totally incredible to me now that everyone spent that evening as though it were just like any other. From the railway station came the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into melody by the distance. It all seemed so safe and tranquil.
Next morning a crowd gathered on the common, hypnotized by the unscrewing of the cylinder. Two feet of shining screw projected when suddenly, the lid fell off. Two luminous, disk-like eyes appeared above the rim. A huge rounded bulk, larger than a bear, rose up slowly, glistening like wet leather. Its lipless mouth quivered and slathered, and snakelike tentacles writhed as the clumsy body heaved and pulsated.
A few young men crept closer to the pit. A tall funnel rose and an invisible ray of heat leapt from man to man, and there was a bright glare as each was instantly turned to fire. Every tree and bush became a mass of flames at the touch of this savage, unearthly heat.
People clawed their way off the common, and I ran too. I felt I was being toyed with, that when I was on the very verge of safety this mysterious death would leap after me and strike me down. At last I reached Maybury Hill, and in the dim coolness of my home I wrote an account for my newspaper before I sank into a restless, haunted sleep.
I awoke to alien sounds of hammering from the pit and hurried to the railway station to buy the paper. Around me, the daily routine of life, working eating, sleeping, was continuing serenely as it had for countless years. On Horsell Common, the Martians continued hammering and stirring, sleepless, indefatigable, at work on the machines they were making. Now and again a light like the beam of a warship's searchlight would sweep the common, and the heat ray was ready to follow.
In the afternoon, a company of soldiers came through and deployed along the common to form a cordon.
That evening, there was a violent crash and I realized with horror that my home was within reach of the heat ray.
At dawn, a falling star with a trail of green mist landed with a flash like summer lightning. This was the second cylinder.
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The Artilleryman and the Fighting Machine
The hammering from the pit and the pounding of guns grew louder. My fear rose at the sound of someone creeping into the house. Then I saw it was a young artilleryman, weary, streaked with blood and dirt.

Artilleryman: Anyone here?
Journalist: Come in. Here, drink this.
Artilleryman: Thank you.
Journalist: What's happened?
Artilleryman: They wiped us out. Hundreds dead, maybe thousands.
Journalist: The heat ray?
Artilleryman: The Martians. They were inside the hoods of machines they'd made, massive metal things on legs. Giant machines that walked. They attacked us. They wiped us out.
Journalist: Machines?
Artilleryman: Fighting machines, picking up men and bashing them against trees. Just hunks of metal, but they knew exactly what they were doing.
Journalist: Hmm. There was another cylinder came last night.
Artilleryman: Yes. Yes, it looked bound for London.

London! Carrie! I hadn't dreamed there could be danger to Carrie and her father, so many miles away.

Journalist: I must go to London at once.
Artilleryman: And me, got to report to headquarters, if there's anything left of it.

At Byfleet, we came upon an inn, but it was deserted.
Artilleryman: Is everybody dead?
Journalist: Not everybody, look...
Six cannons with gunners standing by.
Artilleryman: Bows and arrows against the lightning.
Journalist: Hmm.
Artilleryman: They haven't seen the heat ray yet.
We hurried along the road to Weybridge. Suddenly, there was a heavy explosion and gusts of smoke erupted into the air.
Artilleryman: Look! There they are! What did I tell you!

Quickly, one after the other, four of the fighting machines appeared. Monstrous tripods, higher than the tallest steeple, striding over the pine trees and smashing them, walking tripods of glittering metal. Each carried a huge funnel and I realized with horror that I'd seen this awful thing before.
A fifth machine appeared on the far bank. It raised itself to full height, flourished the funnel high in the air, and the ghostly terrible heat ray struck the town.
As it struck, all five fighting machines exulted, emitting deafening howls which roared like thunder:
Martians: Ulla! Ulla! Ulla! Ulla! Ulla! Ulla!

The six guns we had seen now fired simultaneously, decapitating a fighting machine. The Martian inside the hood was slain, splashed to the four winds, and the body, nothing now but an intricate device of metal, went whirling to destruction. As the other monsters advanced, people ran away blindly, the artilleryman among them, but I jumped into the water and hid until forced up to breathe. Now the guns spoke again, but this time the heat ray sent them to oblivion.
With a white flash the heat ray swept across the river. Scalded, half blinded and agonized, I staggered through leaping, hissing water towards the shore. I fell in full sight of the Martians, expecting nothing but death. The foot of a fighting machine came down close to my head, then lifted again as the four Martians carried away the debris of their fallen comrade, and I realized that by a miracle, I had escaped.
Martians: Ulla! Ulla! Ulla! Ulla!
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Forever Autumn
For three days I fought my way along roads packed with refugees, the homeless, burdened with boxes and bundles containing their valuables. All that was of value to me was in London. By the time I reached their little red brick house, Carrie and her father were gone.

Forever Autumn
Journalist
The summer sun is fading as the year grows old,
And darker days are drawing near,
The winter winds will be much colder,
Now you're not here.
I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky
And one by one they disappear,
I wish that I was flying with them
Now you're not here.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away...

Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way,
You always loved this time of year
Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here

Fire suddenly leapt from house to house. The population panicked and ran, and I was swept along with them, aimless and lost without Carrie. Finally, I headed eastward for the ocean and my only hope of survival: a boat out of England.
Journalist
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on the breeze you blew away...
A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes
As if to hide a lonely tear
My life will be forever autumn,
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here


As I hastened through Covent Garden, Blackfriars and Billingsgate, more and more people joined the painful exodus. Sad, weary women, their children stumbling in the street with tears, their men bitter and angry, the rich rubbing shoulders with beggars and outcasts. Dogs snarled and whined, the horse's bits were covered with foam, and here and there were wounded soldiers, as helpless as the rest.
We saw tripods wading up the Thames, cutting through bridges as though they were paper. Waterloo bridge, Westminster bridge, one appeared above Big Ben.
Martian: Ulla!
Never before in the history of the world, had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. This was no disciplined march, it was a stampede, without order and without a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilization, of the massacre of mankind.
A vast crowd buffeted me towards the already packed steamer. I looked up enviously at those safely on board... straight into the eyes of my beloved Carrie. At sight of me she began to fight her way along the packed deck to the gangplank. At that very moment, it was raised, and I caught a last glimpse of her despairing face as the crowd swept me away from her.

Journalist
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away...
Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way
You always loved this time of year
Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Thunderchild
The steamer began to move slowly away, but on the landward horizon appeared the silhouette of a fighting machine. Another came, and another, striding over hills and trees, plunging far out to sea and blocking the exit of the steamer. Between them lay the silent, gray, ironclad Thunderchild. Slowly it moved towards shore, then with a deafening roar and whoosh of spray it swung about and drove at full speed towards the waiting Martians.

Thunderchild
Journalist
There were ships of shapes and sizes,
Scattered out along the bay
And I thought I heard her calling,
As the steamer pulled away
The invaders must have seen them
As across the coast they filed
Standing firm between them,
There lay Thunderchild
Moving swiftly through the waters,
Cannons blazing as she came,
Brought a mighty metal warlord
Crashing down in sheets of flame,
Sensing victory was nearing,
Thinking fortune must have smiled,
People started cheering,
"Come on Thunderchild! Come on Thunderchild!"


The Martians released their black smoke, but the ship sped on, cutting down one of the tripod figures. Instantly, the others raised their heat rays, and melted the Thunderchild's valiant heart.

Journalist
Lashing ropes and smashing timbers,
Flashing heat rays pierced the deck,
Dashing hopes for our deliverance,
As we watched the sinking wreck,
With the smoke of battle clearing,
Over graves and waves defiled,
Slowly disappearing, farewell Thunderchild!
Slowly disappearing, farewell Thunderchild!
Farewell Thunderchild!
Farewell Thunderchild, child, child, child, child...

When the smoke cleared, the little steamer had reached the misty horizon, and Carrie was safe. But the Thunderchild had vanished forever, taking with her man's last hope of victory. The leaden sky was lit by green flashes, cylinder following cylinder, and no one and nothing was left now to fight them. The earth belonged to the Martians.

Martians: Ulla!


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Part Two: The Earth Under the Martians

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The Red Weed (Part One)
Next day, the dawn was a brilliant, fiery red and I wandered through the weird and lurid landscape of another planet, for the vegetation that gives Mars its red appearance had taken root on earth. As man had succumbed to the Martians, so our land now succumbed to the red weed.
Wherever there was a stream the red weed clung and grew with frightening voraciousness, its claw-like fronds choking the movement of the water. And then it began to creep like a slimy red animal across the land covering field and ditch and tree and hedgerow with living scarlet feelers, crawling, crawling.
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The Spirit of Man
I suddenly noticed the body of a parson lying on the ground in a ruined churchyard. I felt unable to leave him to the mercy of the red week, and decided to bury him, decently.

Beth: Nathaniel! Nathaniel!

The parson's eyes flickered open. He was alive!

Beth: Nathaniel, I saw the church burst into flame, are you all right?
Nathaniel: Don't touch me!
Beth: But it's me, Beth! Your wife!
Nathaniel: No! You're one of them- a devil!
Beth: He's delirious!
Nathaniel: Lies! I saw the devil's sign!
Beth: What are you saying?
Nathaniel: The green flash in the sky. His demons were here all along, in our hearts and souls, just waiting for a sign from Him. And now they're destroying our world!
Beth: But they're not devils, they're Martians.
Journalist: We must leave here.
Beth: Look, a house still standing, come Nathaniel, quickly.

We took shelter in a cottage, and black smoke spread, hemming us in. Then a fighting machine came across the field spraying jets of steam that turned the smoke into thick, black dust.

Martians: Ulla!
Beth: Dear God, help us!
Nathaniel: The voice of the Devil is heard in our land!

The Spirit of Man
Nathaniel
Listen, do you hear them drawing near
In their search for the sinners?
Feeding on the power of our fear
And the evil within us?
In carnation of Satan's creation of all that we dread
When the demons arrive those alive will be better off dead
Beth
There must be something worth living for
There must be something worth trying for
Even something worth dying for
And if one man can stand tall
There must be hope for us all
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

Nathaniel
Once, there was a time when I believed
Without hesitation
That the power of love and truth could conquer all
In the name of salvation
Tell me what kind of weapon is love when it comes to the fight?
And just how much protection is truth against all Satan's might?

Beth
There must be something worth living for
There must be something worth trying for
Even some things worth dying for
And if one man could stand tall
There must be some hope for us all
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

Beth: People loved you, and trusted you, came to you for help...
Nathaniel: Didn't I warn them this would happen? Be on your guard, I said, for the Evil One never rests... I said exorcise the devil! But no, they wouldn't listen, the demons inside them grew and grew, until Satan gave his signal and destroyed the world we knew!

Beth No Nathaniel, oh no Nathaniel,
No Nathaniel, no, there must be more to life,
There has to be a way that we can
Restore to life the love we used to know
(No,) Nathaniel, no, there must be more to life,
There has to be a way that we can
Restore to life the light that we have lost

Nathaniel
Now darkness has descended on our land
And all your prayers cannot save us
Like fools we've let the devil take command
Of the souls that God gave us
To the altar of evil like lambs to the slaughter were led
When the demons arrive the survivors will envy the dead!

Beth
There must be something worth living for

Nathaniel: No, there is nothing!

Beth
There must be something worth trying for

Nathaniel: I don't believe it's so!

Beth
Even something worth dying for
If just one man could stand tall
There would be some hope for us all,
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

Nathaniel: Forget about goodness and mercy, they're gone! Didn't I warn them? Pray, I said! Destroy the devil, I said! They wouldn't listen! I could have saved the world! But now it's too late... too late!

Beth
No Nathaniel, oh no Nathaniel,
No Nathaniel, no, there must be more to life,
There has to be a way that we can
Restore to life the love we used to know
(No,) Nathaniel, no, there must be more to life,
There has to be a way that we can
Restore to life the light that we have lost...

Nathaniel: Dear God! A cylinder's landed on the house, and we are underneath it, in the pit!


The Martians spent the night making a new machine. It was a squat, metallic spider with huge, articulated claws, but it, too, had a hood in which a Martian sat. I watched it pursuing some people across a field. It caught them nimbly and tossed them into a great metal basket upon its back.
Then, on the ninth day, we saw the Martians eating. Inside the hood of their new machine they were drawing the fresh, living blood of men and women and injecting it into their own veins.

Nathaniel: Aaah! It's a sign! I've been given a sign! They must be cast out, and I have been chosen to do it! I must confront them now!
Journalist: No, parson, no!
Nathaniel: Those machines are just demons in another form. I shall destroy them with my prayers, I shall burn them with my holy cross. I shall...

The curious eye of a Martian appeared at the window slit, and a menacing claw explored the room. I dragged the parson down to the coal cellar. I heard the Martian fumbling at the latch. In the darkness I could see the claw touching things, walls, coal, wood. And then, it touched my boot. I almost shouted. For a time it was still, and then, with a click, it gripped something: the parson! With slow, deliberate movements, his unconscious body was dragged away, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it.
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The Red Weed (Part Two)
I crept to the blocked window slit and peered through the creeper. The Martians, and all their machinery, had gone! Trembling, I dug my way out and clambered to the top of the mound: not a Martian in sight! The day seemed dazzling bright after my imprisonment and the sky a glowing blue. Red weed covered every scrap of ground but a gentle breeze kept it swaying, and oh, the sweetness of the air.
Again, I was on my way to London through towns and villages that were blackened ruins, totally silent, desolated, deserted. Man's empire had passed away, taken swiftly and without error by these creatures who were composed entirely of brain. Unhampered by the complex systems which make up man, they made and used different bodies according to their needs. They never tired, never slept, and never suffered, having long since eliminated from their planet the bacteria which cause all fevers and other morbidities.

Artilleryman: Halt! Who goes there?
Journalist: Er, a friend...
Artilleryman: Be on your way, this is my territory!
Journalist: Your territory? What do you mean?
Artilleryman: Wait a minute... it's you! The man from Maybury Hill!
Journalist: Good heavens, the artilleryman. I thought you'd surely burned.
Artilleryman: I thought you'd surely drowned.
Journalist: Have you seen any Martians?
Artilleryman: Everywhere. We're done for all right.
Journalist: We can't just give up.
Artilleryman: `Course we can't. It's now that we've got to start fighting. Not against them, cause we can't win. Now, we've got to fight for survival. I reckon we can make it. I've got a plan.
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Brave New World
Artilleryman: We're gonna build a whole new world for ourselves. Look, they clap eyes on us and we're dead, right? So, we gotta make a new life where they'll never find us. You know where? Underground. You should see it down there, hundreds of miles of drains, sweet and clean now after the rain, dark, quiet, safe. We can build houses and everything, start again from scratch. And what's so bad about living underground, eh? S'not been so great living up here, if you want my opinion.

Brave New World
Artilleryman
Take a look around you at the world we've come to know
Does it seem to be much more than a crazy circus show
Maybe from the madness, something beautiful will grow
In a brave new world, with just a handful of men,
We'll start... we'll start all over again!
All over again! All over again! All over again!
Artilleryman: We'll build shops and hospitals and barracks, right under their noses, right under their feet. Everything we need: banks, prisons and schools. We'll send scouting parties to collect books and stuff, and then like you we'll teach the kids. Not poems and rubbish; science, so we can get everything working! We'll build villages and towns, and... and we'll play each other at cricket! Listen, maybe one day we'll capture a fighting machine, eh, learn how to make `em ourselves, and then: WALLOP! Our turn to do some wiping out! WHOOSH! With our heat ray! Whoosh! And them running and dying, beaten at their own game, man on top again!

Artilleryman
Now our domination of the earth is fading fast,
And out of the confusion a chance has come at last,
To build a better future from the ashes of the past,
In a brave new world, with just a handful of men,
We'll start all over again!

Look, man is born in freedom, but he soon becomes a slave,
In cages of convention from the cradle to the grave,
The weak fall by the wayside but the strong will be saved,
In a brave new world, with just a handful of men,
We'll start all over again!

I'm not trying to tell you what to be,
Oh no, oh no, not me...
But if mankind is to survive, the people life alive,
They're gonna have to build this world anew
And it's going to have to start with me and you... YES!

I'm not trying to tell you what to be,
Oh no, oh no, not me...
But if mankind is to survive, the people left alive,
They're gonna have to build this world anew
Yes and we will have to be the chosen few...

Just think of all the poverty, the hatred and the lies,
And imagine the destruction of all that you despise,
Slowly from the ashes the phoenix will arise,
In a brave new world, with just a handful of men
We'll start all over again!

Take a look around you at the world you've loved so well,
And bid the aging empire of man a last farewell
It may not sound like heaven but at least it isn't hell
It's a brave new world with just a handful of men,
We'll start, we'll start all over again!
All over again! All over again! All over again!
I'VE GOT A PLAN!

Artilleryman: Can't you just see it? Civilization starting all over again! A second chance! Heh- we'll even build a railway and tunnel to the coast, go there for our holidays! Nothing can stop men like us! I've made a start already. Come on down here and have a look.


In the cellar there was a tunnel scarcely ten yards long. It had taken him a week to dig. I could have dug that much in a day, and I suddenly had my first inkling of the gulf between his dreams and his power.

Artilleryman: It's doing the working and the thinking that wears a fellow out. I'm ready for a bit of a rest. How about a drink, eh? Nothing but champagne now I'm the boss.

We drank, and then he insisted upon playing cards. With our species on the edge of extermination, with no prospect but a horrible death, we actually played games. Later he talked more of his plan, but I saw flames flashing in the deep blue night, red weed glowing, tripod figures moving distantly, and I put down my champagne glass. I felt a traitor to my kind, and I knew I must leave this strange dreamer.

Artilleryman Take a look around you at the world we've come to know
Does it seem to be much more than a crazy circus show?
Maybe from the madness something beautiful will grow...
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Dead London
There were a dozen dead bodies in the Euston road, their outlines softened by the black dust. All was still, houses locked and empty, shops closed, but looters had helped themselves to wine and food, and outside a jewelers some gold chains and a watch were scattered on the pavement.

Martian: Ulla!

I stopped, staring towards the sound. It seemed as if that mighty desert of houses had found a voice for its fear and solitude.

Martian: Ulla!

The desolating cry worked upon my mind. The wailing took possession of me. I was intensely weary, footsore, hungry and thirsty. Why was I wandering alone in this city of the dead? Why was I alive when London was lying in state in its black shroud? I felt intolerably lonely, drifting from street to empty street, drawn inexorably towards that cry.

Martian: Ulla!

I saw, over the trees on Primrose Hill, the fighting machine from which the howling came. I crossed Regent's Canal. There stood a second machine, upright, but as still as the first.

Martian: Ulla!

Abruptly, the sound ceased. Suddenly the desolation, the solitude, became unendurable. While that voice sounded London still seemed alive. now suddenly there was a change, the passing of something, and all that remained was this gaunt quiet.
I looked up, and saw a third machine. It was erect and motionless, like the others. An insane resolve possessed me: I would give my life to the Martians, here and now.
I marched recklessly towards the titan and saw that a multitude of black birds were circling and clustering about the hood. I began running along the road. I felt no fear, only a wild, trembling exultation as I ran up the hill towards the monster. Out of the hood hung red shreds, at which the hungry birds now pecked and tore.
I scrambled up to the crest of Primrose hill, the Martian's camp was below me. A mighty space it was, and scattered about it, in their overturned machines, were the Martians, slain after all man's devices had failed by the humblest creatures on the earth: bacteria. Minute, invisible, bacteria. Directly the invaders arrived and drank and fed, our microscopic allies attacked them. From that moment, they were doomed.
The torment was ended. The people scattered over the country, desperate, leaderless, starved, the thousands who had fled by sea including the one most dear to me; all could return, the pulse of life growing stronger and stronger would beat again.
As life returns to normal, the question of another attack from Mars causes universal concern. Is our planet safe, or is this time of peace merely a reprieve? It may be that across the immensity of space, they have learned their lessons , and even now await their opportunity. Perhaps the future belongs not to us, but to the Martians.
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Epilogue
Pasadina: Looking good, going good, we're getting great pictures here at NASA control Pasadina. Landing craft touched down on Mars 28 kilometers from the aim point. We're looking at a remarkable landscape, littered with different kinds of rocks. Red, purple... how about that, Burmuda?
Burmuda: Fantastic. Look at that dune field!
Pasadina: Hey, wait, I- I'm getting a no-go signal. Now I'm losing one of the craft. Hey Burmuda, you getting it?
Burmuda: Nah, lost contact. There's a lot of dust blowing up there.
Pasadina: Now I lost the second craft. We got problems.
Burmuda: Full contact lost, Pasadina. Maybe the antenna's--...
Pasadina: What's that flare? See it? A green flare coming from Mars. Kind of a green mist behind it. It's getting closer. You see it, Burmuda? ...Come in, Burmuda! ...Houston, come in! What's going on... tracking station 43 Canberra, come in Canberra!... tracking station 63, can you hear me Madrid... can anybody hear me? Come in...! Come in...........!