Countdown to Hell - an APH Halifax Explosion story

Dec. 1st, 1917

One. War.

Fort George. That used to be my name. I had been an English war fort for the longest time. Now it was one of my real responsibilities as a proper city, after being properly founded as the Halifax Regional Municipality, to oversee the sea. It's been one hundred and forty years since then, and since I had been named the capital of Nova Scotia.

Everyone else was overseas, fighting in the great war. I was one of the few who remained on our land. It was my job as the biggest port in the country to make sure everything at the shipyard ran smoothly. Cargo got in and out in one piece, the explosives that were meant to be shipped here came through safely.

I was used to it, as it had become my life. And I wouldn't change it for anything.

I don't remember much, but I remember pride.