Grotesquely combined with this terrific but majestic confusion of sound
were the screams of innocent citizens hanging out of the windows, waving
their arms, staring distraught at the sky, convinced, in so far as they
could think at all, that a great enemy air fleet was bombarding Germany
at last.
Masses of flame and smoke shot upward. The pale morning sky turned
black, rent with darting crimson tongues and lit with prismatic stars.
Other explosions followed in rapid succession, some coming down the
light morning wind from a long distance. Blasts of heat swept audibly
through the long galleries of the Maximilianeum.
"It is an inferno!" Marie von Erkel for the moment was almost
hysterical. "Will Munich be destroyed? Oh, not that!"
"The fire brigades know their business." Gisela glanced up at the
Marconi station. Even through the din she could hear the faint crackling
of the wireless. "If all Germany--"
But her eyes were wild.... If the revolutionists in the rest of the
empire had been as prompt and fearless as those of Bavaria, every
munition and ammunition factory, every aerodrome and public hangar, save
those taken possession of by powerfully armed squads of women, every
arsenal, every warehouse for what gasoline and lubricating oils were
left, every telegraph and telephone wire, every railway station near
either frontier, with thousands of cars and miles of track had been
destroyed simultaneously.
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