January 19, 2036
I had watched the ships for an hour as they trudged into view and drove undistracted through the battering foam of the channel. Distinguishable only as black slugs on the nocturnal sea, the tankers swelled and grew as they approached. Perched on the cliff edge I could make out the white coast of Kent sweep around northwards, headed for Margate and the Thames estuary. Below me to my left was a floodlit beach. It was towards this sand-filled cavity in the chalk arch that the ships were driving. It was there where the demonstration of Britain’s latest border policy would be seen. It was there where Churchill’s words would echo down to an age of men who had never faced the threat of fascism.
The rain clattered down on the helmets and armour of the police, who lined the beach from cliff to cliff like four thick cordon ropes. The powerful spotlights behind them illuminated the channel water and their riot shields cast long square shadows on the sand. Further back behind the light towers and hidden among the orchards, the British army with its automatic weaponry was ranked. Opposition politicians from National Labour had argued that direct engagement by the army would be a massacre or even a war-crime. However, even the most liberal statesmen available had agreed that should the police fail to repel the invaders, it was best to have the army in reserve to ensure none encroached.
Of course the Prime Minister had not been a willing advocate of such strong measures, particularly when the police force is in high demand quelling the un-civil outbreaks, igniting sporadically in urban centres up and down the country. The immigration legislation rushed through the houses by Homefront Conservative only six months ago have already proved ineffective. It seems granting virtually unrestricted deportation powers can only be effective, if the relevant bodies know who and where illegal refugees are. Unfortunately immigrants driven by climate, poverty and hunger; landing in makeshift skiffs and smuggled on excrement filled containers, do not see it as a priority to register with local authorities.
Regardless, to blame the government would be somehow facetious. The legislative measures were a proportionate response at the time they were drawn up, and there were few visionaries who could have predicted the exponential increase in immigration. Indeed few could have foreseen how rapid the total collapse of all society on the African continent turned out to be. Exacerbated by unprecedented droughts, tribal massacre and an almost complete loss of foreign aid, all sense of government and political order has vanished nearly overnight. There is also a more scurrilous theory on why Britain has seen such a steep rise in political and humanitarian refugees. It has been intimated in sections of the media and even in parliament, that French authorities, themselves long since at saturation point, have been ‘encouraging’ asylum seekers to settle in the northern tip of the country. It has even been hinted that human traffickers have been given unofficial carte blanche by the their government.
Although debate still rages on the governments increased surveillance measures, it was these powers which alerted homeland security to the events presently unfolding. Reports of three industrial tankers, laden with as many two thousand persons sailing from Boulogne, sparked fears of an unprecedented escalation in the scale of forced immigration to a level ‘never imagined by a generation’. Speaking at Prime Minister’s Questions, Davis Arthur Clarke stated that ‘[this will be] the largest invasion of Britain since Claudius landed at Richborough in AD 42 (sic), and make no mistake this is most certainly an invasion, the results of which will have as profound an impact on the future of British society as that of the Romans.’
Just off the coast the fleet announced its arrival with a deep groan and the sound of shearing metal. The foremost of the three ships had run aground on the shallow waters a mile from shore. The deck lights on all three vessels immediately blazed up, allowing the unfolding scene to be witnessed by all. Caught in the shallow ground the rear of the damaged ship was drifting, tearing itself from the bow until it lay parallel with the shore. Hundreds of people could be seen pouring onto the deck from below. Paralysed by fear, none tried to abandon the doomed freighter. The main section of the ship, now completely free from the stranded bow, began to sink as water filled the hold. Imperceptibly at first, the ship began to lilt, tipping towards the shore before collapsing with a splash and casting its cargo into the sea like a handful of ball bearings. All those who were able began to paddle desperately for shore. There was no time to dwell on the agony of the myriad poor souls who were inevitably still trapped inside.
Meanwhile the remaining ships were halted and begun unloading lifeboats, motor boats and assorted makeshift landing-craft into the water. Waves of people were flooding over the sides, casting themselves into the sea. Those unable or unconcerned with boarding a vehicle, struck out immediately for the beach. Once filled, the boats pushed off from the ship and headed for land, dissecting the line of bodies flailing on the breakers. With increased speed the boats drew inwards towards the beach pursued by a massed body of swimmers. One couldn’t help but wonder about the circumstances which had driven these beings to such desperation, and also to wonder whether those waiting on the beach would have the heart to repel these bedraggled sopping creatures. Their orders were clear however, and repel them they must. The battle lines were drawn and as the point of engagement loomed it became apparent that compassion is a luxury in these times.
The motor powered craft were the first to arrive at the beach and the occupants splashed to the shore. The police lines were a mere twenty yards from the seafront and initially the invaders hesitated. They waited until the majority of the slower craft arrived to swell their numbers and give them a better chance to break the cordon.The three police lines were motionless as the crowd, standing ankle deep in the sea grew to about five hundred bodies. Somewhere the order was given and the crowd broke from the sea en masse, pouring forward as a concentrated shoal of sprinting men, women and children, towards the centre of the blockade. The front line of officers visibly braced, standing shoulder to shoulder and forming their shields into a wall of perspex.
The attackers hit the line and drove it backwards. The second line of defenders stepped forward and braced the first, stopping the crowds momentum. The extremities of the foremost two lines curved inwards and enveloped the attackers. What followed was several minutes of chaos with the riot squad pounding the unarmed refugees with baton and boot, until those not incapacitated retreated to the seafront. On the sand the police lines reformed. The injured officers were carried out towards the woods, where one could almost imagine hearing the sound of military arms being loaded. With the injured removed the police cordon now consisted of only two rows. On the sea the repelled attackers were now joined by all those who had completed the long swim to shore. They now numbered nearly one thousand and the chances of such a crowd being contained by the police alone looked very slim.
In an effort to dispel the invaders the police fired rounds of tear gas to the edge of the sea to little effect. The crash of body on body could be heard when the second wave attacked. Again the force was concentrated at the centre of the police defences. For a moment the attack seemed to be thwarted, but then the lines broke and people began to flow through, racing for the land beyond. The police resolve was still intact though, and after fifty or sixty migrants had made it through they managed to re-secure their perimeter and began to kick and drive the mob back to the water. From the distance came the crackling of the military arsenal, picking off those who had reached them. This must be a familiar sound to these poor refugees, for realising there was no hope of success their spirit drained and all who were fit broke for the sea and safety.
What welcome awaited them on the shores of France would be hard to imagine. All told, hundreds had been killed and hundreds more injured in the skirmishes. That the lines eventually held and there was limited military engagement, will be viewed as a success in the Houses of Parliament in the coming days. That said this had the feel of a staged performance, of a show of resolve by the British government. There will be more of the uprooted and persecuted arriving in Britain for months to come. In a sense this was pyrrhic victory and in future, military intervention must be inevitable.
