The burning airship fell into a big field which lies in the direct centre of the triangle. This is a barren field; the very soil is black and unfertile, covered with tall grass, grey and parched. The splintered blades of the airship’s propeller crashed through a hedge, tearing it and breaking it down. ‘Such was the damage done,’ one writes, ‘such was the fine quality of the mercy meted out to the village of Cuffley.’ One of the villagers records: “I was running downstairs at the time the airship was falling. The whole house was lighted up. I saw all of the furniture in the hall, and the table and the carpet. My husband was down there. He hadn’t had time to get dressed. He was putting on his clothes down there in the hall. They were all streaked with red, his face and his hands, too. The red light stopped, but it was still light—just a little light.” ‘I could hear him talking. I was trying to ask him what he was saying, but my tongue wouldn’t move in my mouth. I was shaking all over. I thought I was going to fall down the stairs—the steps in our house are very crooked. ‘“We are lost—we are lost!”’ I said. But my husband says I said nothing at all. I’m sure I don’t know. ‘“We must get out of here,” he said, “It’ll be on us in a minute.” ‘But we couldn’t get the front door unlocked. We were trying to break it open, hammering on it. And I was wondering all the time if it was going to fall through the roof. I thought it was hours we were there. “What a dreadful way to die,” I said. And he said, “There, there, everything’s all right.” ‘Then the red light came back in the sky again—and all of the time we couldn’t get the door open. But all at once it came open quite easily. ‘We were out in the yard. We saw a flaming mass drop into the field by The Plough. We thought the people there were killed. We began to run. We could see the fire burning. But nobody was hurt—what a wonderful thing! I felt, almost happy—but I knew I shouldn’t be happy when such an awful thing had happened. ‘My husband took me with him into the field. He said I couldn’t stand to see those things out there. But I thought that when it’s war everybody can stand everything. And I didn’t know—maybe, somebody had been hurt. You couldn’t tell, you know—somebody might need help.’