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| - It was summer. The spring had faded and heat replaced what had once been a gentle touch of heat and cold. Winter’s grip had totally faded and Summer’s reign had just begun. But all was not as it seemed. Though the larks were singing, they could scarcely be heard among the guns below. For this was not just a season of summer, but it was season unending, it was war. But I did not start here, on the Mississippi, as so many did, but I started at the beginning of the great conflict. I was stationed in Taiwan right out of boot camp as the US
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| abstract
| - It was summer. The spring had faded and heat replaced what had once been a gentle touch of heat and cold. Winter’s grip had totally faded and Summer’s reign had just begun. But all was not as it seemed. Though the larks were singing, they could scarcely be heard among the guns below. For this was not just a season of summer, but it was season unending, it was war. But I did not start here, on the Mississippi, as so many did, but I started at the beginning of the great conflict. I had joined the US Army at the age of 18 right out of high school, only two years before WWIII broke loose. The Chinese had been eyeing Taiwan for over 75 years and now they believed they were ready. I was stationed in Taiwan right out of boot camp as the US began building its forces there in a show of force against the Chinese. Unfortunately we did not have that much force to show. The economy had collapsed, the new Great Depression had gripped the world, but it hit America especially hard and the lack of any major military presence besides localized clusters were a prime example of this. The Chinese hit us hard. They attacked without warning; we were caught with our pants down. The Chinese Navy hit the US Pacific Fleet with the fury of a devil and within hours the vast majority of the fleet was devastated. Alarms blared throughout the base that we were going to war. Everyone shot up from their barracks and dressed as quick as they could. Some men went outside of the barracks in their t-shirts, boxers and rifle. It was a Friday after all. The Chinese paratroopers hit the ground before the rest of the main force hit the beaches and they were our first taste of the enemy. They were adorned with black armour and they looked like God had sent the Angel of Death against us. Their helmets were adorned with Chinese markings that I later learned meant “Swift Death”. They gripped in their hand the latest in the AK model of weapons, the AK122; they had adopted these weapons from their towel head friends in the Middle East in a political move to help their relations with the fanatics. But I bet they could’ve held a sword and been just as deadly. The first few landed close to the base and they were quickly killed by our bullets, but ones that landed farther away were able to get out of their chute and escape before we could hit them. The PLAAF did not take lightly to our killing of their comrades and within a matter of seconds our base was devastated by missile strike from a Chengdu J-50 high in the atmosphere. the Army took massive budget cuts we were told that the Army would still supply rifles, but handguns we were going to have to be either bought by us or taken from our homes. I personally took this handgun from my home, it was my great grandfather’s and handed down from father to son. We all opened up on them immediately, not even aiming, just firing in their general direction. Four more of the Chinks felt our bullets and hit the deck. But they fired back. Seven more of my men fell to their rounds along with the PVT operating the SAW.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)