All Trollberg units had been mobilized, and fit men over the age of 18 had been ordered to report to the nearest recruitment center for their assignments. Women were assaulted by waves of posters begging for factory workers to toil away machining the aircraft; weapons; tanks; the bullets, shells, mortars that would fuel the hell their husbands, sons, and fathers would be soon to enter. From the lowliest infantryman, to highest general, every citizen of Trollberg was asked to do their duty. "For King and Country," was the message repeated to Anders on every corner. Attired in his crisp new uniform, he had to admit that the respect he was being paid simply for bearing the personage of a soldier was quite pleasant. Mostly men and women ignored him on the street, but these days even children would stand and give a sharp salute to their "Heroes of their great city." He climbed the stairs to her apartment and rang the bell.
"Evening, Johanna," he said cordially to his old partner, dipping into the customary bow of the 4th King's Regiment required of all soldiers as a symbol of respect to civilians. To his surprise, the salute he saw on television was reserved for fellow members of the service and veterans only.
"Anders," came the reply.
"Dad!" A blue-haired girl of nineteen jumped up from a low seat in the living room and ran into a hug, which she quickly extricated herself from, both laughing as she squirmed in his arms. "Your uniforms so scratchy!" she said, brushing away some loose strands of blue hair pulled from her curls by the crisp woolen uniform.
"Afraid it's standard-issue, can't really afford to make them with comfortable fabrics," he said grinning, "but it keeps you warm even when you're wet; wool and all that. Some men say it's even stopped a bullet before: it's stiff-as-a-board when it dries after lying in the mud." He grinned and scooped her up again, although he was barely able to lift her off the ground now. He remembered the first time she had driven, and how young and small she had been then. He thought about driving with her now, and it took all the strength he had not to cry. He was going to miss their old, beat-up station wagon.
Johanna looked grimly at his figure. She eyed the service revolver in the holster at his waist, and the sword in its scabbard with an intense distrust.
"How long do you expect this will last?" she said with a surprising degree of concern. Anders smiled and replied, with a grin,
"Over by Christmas according to the Generals. The King's Army has promised that shouldn't it take two years."They were correct. Four years, and fifteen million men later, the war continued.
YOU ARE READING
Through Hell & Highwater
Исторические романыThe year is 1987, and relations between the nations of Trolburg and Woffenstein, its neighboring historical enemy are worsening. Tension rises, arms and armor manufacturing increases tenfold, the militaries and navies of their Empires are organized...
