War For The World

EPILOGUE

The large new headquarters of Yosemite Square stood tall and proud. People bustled in and out of the large brick built building, a flurry of words and panic as people made their way to meetings they were late for and jostled out to catch their evening trains. One could hear the sound of running automobiles and trams coming from outside. General Sharpe smiled to himself as he made his way through the revolving door and past the receptionist walking down a hallway towards his new office. Life truly was back in business.

Later on that day a young boy came in, addressing the general as sir and politely handing him a large pile of papers for him to look over. The General smiled politely, patting the young boy on his head and sending him on his way. Something about the way the youth respected him so made him less worried about the future, for with men like that young boy to lead the way they were certainly in great hands.

General Sharpe let out a deep sigh as he sat down and stared at the three files presented to him. All three dossiers were bulging to the brim with papers from eye witness testimonials, on record files and other such information Yosemite had managed to get their hands on.

The front of each file held a photo attached with a paperclip, large black words emblazoned above.

SEARGANT JAMES MICHAELS

MRS JOAN FISCHER

MISS ALICE FLETCHER

The first two names were followed by the words 'MIA presumed KIA' with the last simply reading KIA.

He opened each file one by one, skimming vaguely through them. He was behind schedule as it was, he didn't have time for a thorough decommissioning.

The first of the three was the Seargent. Sharpe gave a solemn nod out of respect for the man, He'd known his father after all. A strapping young boy built on the back of a soldier more decorated than any other Sharpe had met.

Names such as Abigail Hersch, Martin Jones and Todd Benson seemed less familiar however. According to this dossier she had been his partial lover. He chuckled to himself, most of the witness accounts in this file were from her. It seemed she'd recounted these testimonies upon being picked up by his men. It'd taken them a while to find the large group of villagers all huddled up in a makeshift bunker. Apparently they'd done that to hide from the tripods (One had been spotted crashed not too far from their location). She had been so grateful for the rescue. He had expressly chosen not to mention the fact he'd sent his men there to find the source of the beacon, and not her.

Nevertheless, she had been a great fountain for intel on the Seargent, who's current whereabouts were still unknown. The General had tasked some of his best men on finding the man, however privately he expected them to come up empty. Europe was a big place for someone who didn't want to be found. Shame was a fickle thing like that.

The second file was more of a mystery. The case of Joan Fischer was an odd one. His team had been beyond confused upon receiving a broadcast signal from a German housewife located within one of the Martian behemoths. He had little accounts to go one for this individual, with the last placing her current known whereabouts as the tripod crash site.

Once more he'd sent men out. This time they'd returned, however with the body of an MIA espionage operative called Alex Wayne. They'd found his body after digging through a crudely made grave marked by a pile of rocks. As of yet, the broad and her sons whereabouts were similarly unknown.

It was the last of the three files that stung most deep. Alice Fletcher. The brave young receptionist who got in too deep and well and truly bit off more than she could chew. She'd managed to uncover a deep state German spy in the form of one Dr Ludvig Malkins. After a small amount of digging General Sharpe had discovered Ludvig's main operation was spying on their Martian intelligence and using it to help the Germans mass produce tripods of their own.

He cursed himself privately. He'd known something fishy was going on, he just hadn't had the foresight necessary to know what. If Miss Fletcher hadn't been there to figure out the truth...

And yet the discovery was at the cost of her own life. A tragedy most indubitably. They'd returned to the base upon realising the lead on a close warring tripod was doctored, discovering the two drenched bodies within the experimentation lab. Despite her blood drenched clothes and blackened veins, she somehow seemed to look at peace. He supposed she'd be up there now reuniting with her friends.

All three of these files recounted unimaginable moments of struggle, hardship and ultimately victory in some shape way or form. Each of these individuals proved crucial one way or another to the ultimate defeat of the Martian invasion, and for that General Sharpe was incredibly grateful.

He noticed the time, ten minutes late.

Straightening his tie he stood up. Holding the files under his right arm the general walked towards his filing cabinet near the back of the room and pulled one of the cabinets open. It was dusty and damp within, having seen no attention in years.

Gripping the handle of the cabinet in one hand he lowered the files inside with the other, housing them under the subject heading

CLASSIFIED

Though the people of Earth should be singing those three names ten fold over, they were in fact destined to be lost to time. Similar to the Martians they had all been so adamantly fighting against, these three were to be lost to the foggy memories of war. An erased line in a history book.

The General was interrupted now by a knocking at the door. He looked up, slamming the cabinet door shut with an almighty bang.

"Yes?"

A soldier walked in. He was skinny, His eyes were wide and his hair dishevelled. General Sharpe couldn't remember the name of this young man, though that hardly mattered.

"General, the Germans are pushing forwards in Europe, the Russians aren't surrendering!"

Sharpe sighed

"Thank you private"

The young man sprinted off down the hall as the General made his way back over to his desk. He heard a commotion in the hall as the soldier ran directly into someone

"Sorry pops!"

"It's alright kiddo"

Reaching his chair now, the General removed a typewriter from underneath his desk and sat it up in front of him.

He gave himself one last moment to ponder the lives of the three individuals trapped within those files before beginning to clack away at the hard metal buttons of the typewriter.

After all, there was still a war to be won.