Cheers and whistles rose up from the mob as the missile hit its target. Seconds later, the wounded officer was carried from the battle line by two colleagues.

The jeers were soon lost beneath the deafening thunder of concrete crashing onto riot shields. Another stricken officer limped away from the ranks, and then another.

The uniformed line shuffled backwards along White Abbey Road under the relentless hail of missiles; ten, twenty and then thirty yards.

"Hold your line, hold your line," shouted the commanding officer.

For an hour, hundreds of Asian youths, most with scarves or jumpers hiding their faces, tried to force their way through the line and back into the city.

One was armed with a loudspeaker which crackled out racist insults at the officers. Another shined a blinding halogen light in their eyes.

Time froze for a millisecond as what sounded like gunfire rang out. The crowd cheered again as the string of powerful fireworks exploded.

Minutes later, one youth struggled violently as they dragged him towards the awaiting van.

By 11.15pm there was a noticeable swelling of police ranks. Then the call went out: "Advance, advance!"

The riot teams started moving forwards with revving police vans bringing up the rear. The mob unleashed its last missiles, turned on its collective tail and retreated 300 yards, stopping just past Springfield Street.

The police came to a halt. "Hold steady. Take a breather now, it's going to be a long night," one sergeant told his troops.

While some officers assembled human barricades across Whetley Hill, others sealed off side streets to prevent attacks from the rear. Slowly but surely, the mob was being forced out of the city.

The new ground 'won' by the police resembled a fresh battleground. Three overturned cars burned fiercely. Broken bottles crunched underfoot and the road was thickly littered with rocks, sticks and other weapons dropped or hurled by the gangs.

After 20 minutes another police offensive pushed the rioters back again. By 11.45pm Lincoln Road and Arnold Place had been secured. One officer was sitting injured against a wall as the flashing blue lights passed him on their way to the front.

At Whites View, the brick-throwing rioters stood their ground, taking advantage of their elevated position on the hill - trying to take a strategic advantage.

Suddenly an engine fired into life and a car burst out from behind the mob. The blue Nissan raced straight at the ranks of officers who dived for cover or launched at it. As its screeched to a halt, some officers clambered onto its roof and bonnet, trying to break its windows with batons and riot shields. The driver threw it into reverse, and jolted away to be swallowed up by the welcoming arms of the swarm of rioters.

One officer called out: "Where's Richard? Richard's missing."

By 11.50pm, the crowd, still hundreds strong, had been forced back past Middleton Street.

A burning car crackled outside Ruby Jewellers where an angry Asian man standing nearby cried out: "Why are they pushing the violence up here to our homes? This has nothing to do with us."

As the battle raged outside her house, a middle aged white woman shouted from a first floor window.

"We are not racist. Why don't they call in the army to stop this?"

By midnight, as hundreds of extra police were drafted in to join the fray, the momentum increased and the rioters were forced back to the Toller Lane junction. Here, they set up burning barricade and set about gathering missiles for their next assault.

Flames were beginning to lick at the Lower Globe pub before the mob turned its attention to the Manningham Ward Labour Club - both of which were inevitably destroyed.

The jeering youths gathered on wasteland opposite the junction, laughing, shouting and pelting the police lines with bottles. Some ran boldly across the road, within yards of the officers, their faces uncovered. Force TV cameramen caught the evidence for later prosecutions.

At 12.35pm a petrol bomb arced through the smoke but fizzled out harmlessly. But it was quickly followed by three more which burst into flames among the officers' feet.

Suddenly, three police vans sounded their sirens and advanced towards the mob. The youths turned tail and ran up Toller Lane, followed by the officers on foot.

By the time they reached the junction with Duckworth Lane, their numbers were greatly depleted, many making their escape amid the confusion.

Around 100 stood on the grassy roundabout as cars screeched around it. Two youths swung golf clubs menacingly at a lamppost.

By 1am Asian elders began speaking with the group who eventually agreed to disperse. As they walked casually past the line of officers, towards Lilycroft Road, the youths smiled and called out mockingly: "Time to go home now."

One turned and indicated a 'time-out' sign as if to indicate a pause in the proceedings.

But this was anything but the end. Moments later, gangs were attacking the Lister Hills BMW garage in Oak Lane, joyriding, crashing and torching the performance cars - treating them like expensive fairground bumper cars - as the building itself burned to the ground.

While officers in Toller Lane began climbing back into vans, one officer showed off his riot shield which is missing a large section of the top.

"These things are not meant to break. It has been a very hard night - we were dropping like flies back there."

As a double-decker bus carried officers back through the battle-ravaged streets and towards the city, a middle aged Asian man surveyed the scene.

And his thoughts were more perceptive than many others.

"The NF are the only winners tonight. They have got exactly what they want. They will be sitting at home with a beer watching this on television and laughing."