[Journalist]:
There were a dozen dead bodies in the Euston road, their bodies 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 jewellers, some gold chains and a watch were scattered on the pavement..

[Martians]:
Ulla!

[Journalist]:
I stopped, staring toward the sound. It seemed as if that mighty desert of house had found a voice for its fear and solitude...

[Martians]
Ulla!

[Journalist]:
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 in state in its black shroud? I felt intolerably lonely, drifting from street to empty street, drawn inexorably towards that cry...

[Martians]
Ulla!

[Journalist]:
I saw, over the trees on Primrose hill, the fighting machine from which the howling came. I crossed Regents Canal. There stood a second machine, upright, but as still as the first

[Martians]
Ulla! Ul-!

[Journalist]:
Abruptly, the sound ceased. Suddenly, the desolation, the solitude, became unendurable. While that voice sounded, London had still seemed alive. Now, suddenly, there was a change, the passing of something and all that remained was this gaunt quiet