The Allied War

Chapter 1: Sweet Home America

Alexander Stephens knew what he was destined for. Death. For all his 23 years, he had only ever wanted to be a US Marine. He loved the Marine Corps not just for all their awesome gear, weapons, and uniforms, of which he most admired the USMC Blue Dress Uniform, Alexander loved the idea of being the top trained in the world. He also felt a great deal of patriotism and call to duty. That was until the world crumbled into another world war that governments are claiming to not be true. Everyone knew it. There was no denying that a much deadlier World War III had arrived. The war had turned everything upside down for Alex as men died, families were separated, and the draft had been put in full motion. Men, boys, as old as 16 or 15 were thrown into boot camps across the country to fight the war. Riots and civil war broke out, leading the country into a desperate situation of no morale and no men. Thus, teens were brought up. Being the top in academics and in your community allowed for a pass from the draft so kids could go to college. Mostly, this was reserved for the lucky few of the top ninety-nine percent in the country. Alex was part of that lucky few. As fate had it, he would be forced into the United States Naval Academy at Texas. There he studied and yet again was the best out of one hundred cadets. After graduating, Alex was sent to the Cities of Las Aegas where he suppressed riots, controlled the city with military discipline, and imprisoned people or "traitors" of the state for even the slightest public view or inkling the accused was not supportive of the war and the nation. After a few years, he was relieved of his command and sent home before he was to be sent out on the Front. So Alex found himself sitting by three graves under an old oak tree at the Oak Hill Cemetery. The graves were his family. His mother died in a riot in the outskirts of the former city of Miami. His father and brother had died in combat on the Front. Alex would mourn over the graves like his whole family was dead. Yet, he still had an older brother and sister, both a year older and already honored for their capability in the Navy and Air Force. Alex wanted to die too, but he knew his family, especially his mother would be ashamed of him if he died. His mom was always a fighter. It's why his mom was killed by a Civil Police Officer in the Miami Riots. The CPO's were ordered to disperse the riot with any means necessary. So, they did. The riots resulted in the death of fifty thousand people. The whole thing was covered up and people were threatened to remain silent. That was one of the major riots that tipped the pot for the Government leaders. Taking troops off the Front who were not in the most heavily fought areas, the Government suppressed the riots and killed thousands more, finally taking control after a few months. New reforms and laws were enacted and those unhappy enough to voice opposition were silenced and never heard from again. Thus, The Futile Revolt was crushed and the Allied War continued.

Having spent a long time by the graves of his dead family, Alex had gotten up and wandered back to his car. He would find himself next morning with no recollection of anything in his bed, still in his MC RDUs or, Marine Corps Required Dress Uniforms that all military personnel were regulated to wear "at all the times," especially off when duty. He cursed and got up grabbing another identical RDU and quickly ironing the one he had had on previously. Grabbing something to eat, Alex grabbed his All-weather standard issue coat, locked his home, and got in his barely used Ion Thunder standard Corps issued vehicle. It was class and safety all-in-one. Driving down Hubert street, Alex hit traffic and waited. He slowly admired the grand capitol that the nation called home of homes. Developers prided themselves as much as possible with the work they did. The traffic got moving and Alex drove up to the Military Sector gates and showed his military ID. He would repeat the process a couple more times and one last time to enter the Marine Corps Divisional HQ. Walking through the 20 foot automatic glass doors, he made his way to the Marine Corps Head of Warfare in the Front, or more commonly known as the Front Head. Alex knocked on the door twice. Upon hearing the command "Come in!" barked through the door, Alex opened the door, walking in and saluting upon notice.

"Sir, Sergeant Major Stephens, Sir!"

Grand General Taylor saluted in return. Motioning for Alex to take a seat, he began reading through his reports.

"Sir, I would like to know if there's any way that I can switch with someone else and be stationed somewhere else like... I don't know, maybe at Camp Sommers in the Italian Federation States?"

"No Sergeant. When you get put on The Front, you get put on The Front. There's no wishy washy 'can I be replaced by someone else? No. Come now, let's have none of that. I won't tolerate men who can't stand up and fight. Be a hero for this nation."

"Sir, with all due respect..."

"None of that soldier! When you start off with 'with all due respect,' you really mean 'sir, I'm going to tell you whatever I feel like even if it is offending and I expect you to be alright with it.' So, go on. There's no changing anything about anything. It's just life solider and you should know that by now. Heck, if I had a choice to whine to my CO, I would ask to be commanding somewhere else instead of the darn Front. Now, will there be anything else, Sergeant?"

"No sir."

"Good. Then I suggest you leave now. I have much to do."

With a swift salute, Alex left the Commander's office and headed back to his car. He would be leaving soon and decided to go to restaurant and order some food. By the time he had finished and was ready to go, it was time to report to his Company commander.

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