Day 7 July 2005.
On the 7th day in July of the year 2005
The life of London drastically changed
People and buildings were blown to bits.
Several hundred were injured and maimed.
A London morning that began tinged with joy,
Changed to one of horror and confusing turmoil,
As London once again came under vicious onslaught,
From a terrorist attack on British soil.
The first explosion tore through a tube-train,
Going to Liverpool Street on the way from Moorgate.
A cataclysmic and calamitous attack carried out,
In the darkness bodies sprawling prostrate.
And then just a few moments later,
A second bomb was set to explode.
It tore through the wall into another train,
As it pulled into Edgware Road.
The third blast, within a few seconds,
Occurred between King’s Cross and Russell Square,
At least twenty people were barbarically killed.
It’s an agony that’s very hard to bear.
Some emerged from a smoke-scorched underground,
Bewildered and concussed in their plight.
From a passage-way situated deep down in hell,
They crawled uncertainly back towards the light.
A rescuer bows his head in prayer.
One disintegrating tube train carriage,
Was crowded with bodies, both dead and alive.
The dead removed reverently to a corner,
So that the living had a chance to survive.
Then a change of terrorist tactics,
As a fourth bomb, a devastating affair,
Around the waist of a suicide bomber,
Blew up a bus as it neared Woburn Square.
The bus fell apart as the roof blew off,
And thirteen lives were immediately lost.
Doctors and nurses working nearby,
Rushed in to help without counting the cost.
Elsewhere above ground came an eerie silence.
Just what on earth had gone wrong?
We don’t normally suffer from earthquakes,
But those nearby tremors were so very strong!
They met the first tremors with complete disbelief.
Perhaps there were ‘power surges’ going on underground?
But as they saw television pictures of a bus torn in two,
Their fears for the victims began to abound.
Below ground a vision of the inferno.
Hellholes of fire, shattered glass; a fragmented train.
A surrounding of debris and buckling metal.
The inevitable sound of human beings in pain.
For an eternity the trapped survivors waited,
Choking on smoke; fresh air was denied,
Helplessly listening to a trapped man’s screams.
Then hoping against hope that he had not died.
As each blast went off in the tunnels,
Everything was black and filled with dense smoke,
Which collected as an impenetrable fog.
This struggle for life was certainly no joke.
So Liverpool Street and Edgware Road,
Russell Square and Tavistock Place.
Hundreds injured more than 50 dead,
Many more just impossible to trace.
Dazed bloody and soot-stained passengers emerged,
Blinking their eyes and shaking their heads,
As they were whisked away, by buses-turned-ambulances,
To the nearest hospital beds.
21 bodies recovered from the Piccadilly Line tube
That will be recorded, precisely, in the 'stats'.
Unmentioned will be the extreme heat and the dust,
The asbestos and the constant scurrying of rats.
The shockwaves reverberated outwards from the capital,
Security scares accelerated worldwide,
France cranked up on its terrorist alerts,
And US Security got into its stride.
Buckingham Palace looked to its loins.
The Old Bailey stopped worrying about crimes.
Medical teams and Ambulances gathered ‘en masse’.
These were truly unbelievable times.
A tribute from Canada.
The effect was quite catastrophic.
Stocks plummeted as the world watched the scene.
Police and security forces swung into operation.
This carnage was completely obscene.
The City was momentarily immobilised.
Work ceased; traffic could no longer roam.
The telephone network was completely besieged,
As London tried to phone home.
Last night London counted the casualties.
Last night they wept for the dead.
Last night they swept up the glass and the blood,
And each survivor tried to lift up his head.
The Underground remained paralysed, as night slowly fell,
But the bus service slowly creaked back to life.
Most mainline train stations reopened their doors,
In an effort to contain the strife.
A flotilla of small boats plied up and down the Thames.
The Thames Ferry service came into play.
Cars were at a standstill nothing moved on the road,
They just had to get the commuters away.
Meanwhile thousands of people set off on foot,
A mighty crowd trudging slowly home,
Through a silent sad city now shocked to its roots.
It was not really the best time to roam.
Our Prime Minister says we’ll not be intimidated,
And that culprits will be brought to book.
I’m not so sure that it’s as easy as that,
At our rules and regulations we must take a hard look.
But was it a ‘martyrdom’ operation?
Or devices operated by clock?
Whatever it was there can be no doubt.
That these murderers must be put into the dock.
The blasts had characteristics of an al-Qaeda attack,
The operation was deadly and savagely conceived.
Four London bomb attacks, in such a short space of time.
The carnage just could not be believed.
Osama bin Laden
The Secret Organisation Group of al Qaeda,
A Jihad Organisation with a European face,
Claimed that they had unleashed the initial minutes of hell,
They should cover their heads in disgrace.
Then again, the Abu Hafs al Masri Brigade,
Claims that it carried out the attack,
On what they've named 'The capital of the infidels',
And they swear that they're coming back!
Mustafa Setmariam Nasar, the Syrian,
Who masterminded the bombings in Madrid,
And lived in London in the mid-1990s,
Is thought culpable of this terrorist bid.
And of establishing ‘sleeper cells in Britain and Europe,
To be activated at his beck and call.
Walking our streets to plant their bombs,
In the hope that democracy will fall.
Three men are still imprisoned in London,
Fighting extradition to Spain,
For their alleged roles in the bombing of Madrid,
But our justice system allows them to remain.
Another suspect Hassan Akcha,
And his two brothers, accused of being there,
As assassins of the Madrid bombing team,
Have now vanished into thin air.
The root of the problem lies in Saudi Arabia,
That's where Osama bin Laden was born.
Saudi oil money has sponsored training and terror,
It's where Al Qaeda first began to spawn.
Perhaps it was the work of a sleeper cell.
Were home grown terrorists on board?
Arriving here as illegal immigrants,
Or searching for asylum from alleged oppression abroad?
We must round up all of the suspects,
We’ve got more mad Mullahs than enough!
When they preach about anarchy and sedition,
It’s time that we started getting rough.
We must examine our Immigration service.
We must close down a very open door,
On those who just waltz into our Country,
Coming up with entry excuses galore!
Timing was crucial to the terrorist success,
To maximise impact on the Summit G8,
Because world leaders were meeting in Scotland,
And they didn’t want to leave it too late.
A tribute from Madrid
Is there evidence to bring them to book?
Close circuit TV will be examined at length,
Security film will be studied in depth,
Forensic evidence must be gathered in strength.
Murder squad detectives have been drafted in.
Scene of crime officers are deeply involved,
Dividing into sectors the scenes of attack.
This enigma just has to be solved.
Muslim leaders are fearful of reprisal.
Right wing extremists are beginning to talk tough,
To stir up an anti-Muslim backlash,
As if we all haven't had quite enough!
Our joy at securing the Olympic Games,
As celebrated on the previous day,
Shattered as explosives blasted our city,
Bringing broken lives death and dismay.
The contrast between prior jubilation,
And the decisions being reached at G8,
To bring about a much improved world.
Has left us all in a terrible state.
Tony Blair spoke from Gleneagles,
Our nation will not bow the knee,
He said “The hand of justice will reach out,
These murderers will not go free”.
In a genteel hotel in Scotland he spoke
With the world leaders gathered around, at his back,
Of the grotesqueness of commuter-killing,
Whilst they were working to put Africa back on track.
President Bush, Tony Blair and President Chirac
And as he spoke to the nation from Gleneagles,
He gave a terse and very gaunt display.
“They will not undermine our determination,
Our sovereignty will not be blown away”.
An Islamic website with al-Qaeda links,
Declared that “Britain is burning with fear”.
They don’t know the British when their backs are to the wall,
We won’t give an inch – no bloody fear!
Were those bombs aimed at powerful people?
Was it the top men they were trying to get?
No they killed quite indiscriminately
Without one thought or regret.
shahera akther Islam was murdered in the blast.
But George Galloway could not resist ‘cocking a snook’,
He said that Londoners were now paying the price,
For Mr Blair’s actions in Afghanistan and Iraq.
He wants British troops withdrawn ‘in a trice’.
A tribute in Times Square.
President Bush provided a political counterpoint,
“This is incredibly vivid to me” he said,
“There are those who love human liberty and human rights,
And there are those who want everyone dead.”
President Bush signs the book of condolence.
Charles Dickens once lived in the house alongside,
The bus that was bombed yesterday morning.
What words would he have uttered had he been alive,
At this savage onslaught without any warning?
Dickens wrote in ‘A Tale of Two Cities’.
“It was the season of darkness, It was the season of light"
“It was the spring of hope, It was the winter of despair.”
He was surely describing our plight.
In a short space of time we witnessed two cities in one,
One joyful and one quite horrendous,
One in the suddenly irrelevant world of sport,
And the other of mass murder so stupendous.
Near Aldgate Tube station an old man,
Held his evening papers out to anyone for free.
He touched the shoulders of all passers-by,
As a gesture of his solidarity.
Tributes to the victims.
“It is through terrorism that people express their values.
And it is right at this moment to demonstrate ours.”
For once Blair’s Churchillianism seemed rich and so right.
Perhaps these will become our finest hours.
Meanwhile somewhere in the streets of London,
At least three murderers had walked swiftly away.
Or perhaps they died, as a suicide team,
Murder and tragedy that will never go away.
by N. Doctrination
Author: Trevor Durbidge Copyright © 2005 [TJD]. All rights reserved. Revised: October 30, 2007
The suicide bomb squad from Leeds
FOUR friends from northern England have changed the face of terrorism by carrying out the suicide bombings that brought carnage to London last week.
It emerged last night that, for the first time in Western Europe, suicide bombers have been recruited for attacks. Security forces are coming to terms with the realisation that young Britons are prepared to die for their militant cause.
Three of the men lived in Leeds and the immediate fear is that members of a terrorist cell linked to the city are planning further strikes. The mastermind behind the attacks and the bomb maker are both still thought to be at large.
The man who planted the bomb at Edgware Road was named last night as Mohammed Sidique Khan, 30, the married father of an eight-month-old baby, who is believed to have come from the Leeds area.
Two other terrorists were Hasib Hussain, 19, who bombed the bus in Tavistock Square, of Colenso Mount, Leeds, and Shehzad Tanweer, 22, the Aldgate bomber, who lived at Colwyn Road, Leeds.
Police are still trying to identify the fourth, whose remains are believed to be in the bombed Tube train carriage on the Piccadilly Line. It is thought that he comes from Luton.