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Thread: Letters from a Stranger

  1. #16
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    5
    July, 1944
    Dear Mr. Spangler,
    I'm writing this letter to inform you of the death of your son, Corporal David Spangler. Normally notification would be done in person, but the only address we have is the post office listed on the next of kin paperwork.

    Corporal Spangler was killed in action during an assault behind enemy lines. His quick thinking saved the lives of his team at the cost of his own.

    His body was buried in an explosion that destroyed the enemy facility. Command has decided that recovery would be too expensive at this point in time. Our forces will be in the area in a couple of months. A detail will be assigned to recover his body to be sent to Arlington for burial.

    I give you my word that this will happen.

    I wish to express my condolences for your loss. Corporal Spangler was a key part of the successes of our detached duty assignment. Without him, the missions carried out by our platoon would have ended in failure in my opinion. He will be rewarded a silver star posthumously at his burial ceremony for his bravery under fire.

    The official action report will not be available for civilian reading for some time. The following is a brief account of what happened garnered from the debriefing of the personnel involved.

    Corporal Spangler's squad was assigned to infiltrate an enemy facility in a classified location. They were to be joined by other members of their platoon to plant explosives to demolish the facility. They were to retreat after the objective had been reached, and join with a company of infantry marching to the area from the south.

    In the course of the mission, the demolition team was discovered by the facility guards. A fight broke out in the middle of the operating area between elements of the platoon and enemy soldiers. Our platoon was pinned down by heavy fire.

    Corporal Spangler and his squad finished planting their explosives, then rushed across the facility to help their comrades. They attacked the guards from behind to free up the pinned down members of their platoon to operate.

    Several extremely dangerous enemy agents arrived with heavy ordinance. They began to fire on the platoon. Three of our men were killed in the first exchange of fire.

    Corporal Spangler engaged these agents to draw their fire while the rest of the platoon escaped. His men reported that he held his own against them for some minutes.

    The explosive charges detonated. The facility collapsed under the blasts. Your son was caught in the explosions.

    The enemy retreated from the destruction temporarily. They hold the ground around the wreckage for the moment. A mission is being planned to recover your son's body.

    As soon as it has been extracted from the debris, we will send you a notice so that you can file your claim as the next of kin. The body will be flown out of Europe, and handed over to your designated funeral director, or funeral home operator. Paperwork will also be available for your son to be buried at Arlington if you so desire.

    If we do not hear from you, Mr. Spangler, the army will bury Corporal Spangler at Arlington with full honors.

    The silver star will be rewarded at a ceremony in front of the White House in the next month or two. When I know the exact date, I will notify you by letter.

    The death notification unit will help you with anything you might need for this. I will be glad to put you in touch with the nearest case officer to your location in Minnesota if you want.

    The Army will do everything in its power to recover your son's body from the enemy.

    I regret that he had to be left behind for the good of his platoon. It was a hard choice. I give you my word that we will clear the debris and send him home to you. I will make sure of that.

    As a unit detached to military intelligence, your son's record has been classified. No one will ever know what he did during the war. Such things are commonplace, but can be disconcerting when next of kin try to check on their loved ones. Be aware that no one will be able to tell you his record no matter who you ask.

    The typical ban on records is forty years. And the files are heavily redacted to prevent leakage of information. You may be able to get the full record years after the war is over. I apologize for that.

    Corporal Spangler served with distinction. He will be missed by his fellow soldiers for his insight on the enemy that we face, his ability, and his knowledge of pertinent information necessary to complete his assigned tasks.

    Please contact me as soon as possible about arrangements. That will speed things along when we have the body in hand to send home to you.

    Yours truly,
    Colonel Steven Long,
    Office of Strategic Services, Project Z

    Colonel Long,
    We were unable to find anyone attached to the post office box where this letter was sent. We have no idea how to contact Mr. Spangler, or any other next of kin that might be living in the area. The post office was completely ignorant of a Spangler family anywhere around.

    We don't know who has been receiving the letters from Corporal Spangler, or if he even had a father. We will keep our eyes open, but I have low hopes for finding the man.

    I will keep on it, but I have no idea how to proceed at this time. Maybe something will turn up to point the way.

    Yours truly,
    Sergeant Randall McQuade
    Grave Detail, Fort Mead

    Sergeant McQuade
    I have met Mr. Spangler here in England. I don't know how he knew where we were based, or how he flew here without authorization. He arrived shortly after I notified you of the death of his son.

    He has already made arrangements for the body to be flown back to Minnesota. I would appreciate it if you would meet him on the ground with a detail. He should be arriving in a few hours local time.

    Corporal Spangler should be buried with full honors. It's the least we can do.

    Yours truly,
    Colonel Steven Long,
    Office of Strategic Services, Project Z

    Colonel Long,
    The burial was taken care of today. A local minister handled the service. There was no one there but Mr. Spangler. We presented the flag to him, and were dismissed. I made sure to hand him my card in case he needed it.

    I will be surprised if he uses it. He gave the impression of never wanting to talk to us again.

    Yours truly,
    Sergeant Randall McQuade
    Grave Detail, Fort Mead
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    epilogue
    The gatherer examined the area with a critical eye. He had been sent out with specific instructions. He was almost in the right place according to the map he had been given.

    He had seen his share of battles over the years. The scene always looked the same after the fighting was done. All he needed was a pile of bodies laying around to complete the picture.

    He walked over to the collapsed building. Somewhere in there was what he wanted. Once he was done, he could report back and see a show. The boss was good about work conditions.

    "Halten." Soldiers appeared in the trees. They leveled rifles at him as they approached.

    He shook his head. He didn't want to deal with humans. They got in the way. They talked about what they saw. He liked to be invisible and unknown while carrying out his missions.

    No witnesses was his existing policy.

    "What are you doing here?" The one sentry pointed his rifle straight at the gatherer's eye. He didn't see anything dangerous in a small man with gray hair, dressed in gray. "This area is restricted."

    "I'm looking for something." His German was just as good as any other language he wanted to speak at any time. "I would be happy for you to move on."

    "You will have to return with me to our base camp." The soldier glanced at his comrade. "Our commander will want to talk to you."

    "No." The gatherer raised his hand. Wind pulled at the soldiers. Mists separated from the soldiers. They fell down. He took the mists and put them in a bottle. "I'm sure you are doing your job, but I am too. I'm sure you understand why I can't allow witnesses to live."

    He put the bottle away as he walked over to a point next to the collapsed rubble. His goal was somewhere in there. He had to move things if he wanted to get to what he had been sent to find.

    He exerted a small amount of effort. Mists poured up slightly before returning to the ground. He nodded. That was why he was there after all.

    He concentrated. Rubble moved out of his way. He pulled out bottles to hold what he had been sent. He had one more bottle than he needed.

    He called up the mists again. He pulled the thin strands into the bottles one at a time. He smiled as he placed corks in the mouths and sealed the containers with wax that melted itself.

    He put the bottles in the pockets of his gray coat. He had what he wanted. Now he had to get home.

    Visions of dancing girls and steins of beer danced in his head. Wings grew out of his back as expanding darkness.

    He noted something coming. He could feel it on the ether. He didn't want to be seen making his escape. He pulled a tree around him as a shield. As long as he did nothing, the bark and fiber should protect him from detection.

    Whatever was coming projected more power than he thought he could handle on his own. He wasn't sure even his master could handle what was appearing out of the night. He certainly couldn't.

    It hurt to admit that but he was a realist. He wouldn't try to snuff out the sun since he knew it was beyond what he could do. Hiding in a tree seemed to be his best course of survival.

    A human magician appeared with the sound of paper flipping. He looked around, keen eyes digging at the night. His gaze lingered on the gatherer's tree. He gave no sign that he saw the minion hiding under the shell.

    Or if he did, he didn't care enough to make it an issue.

    The gatherer didn't like that thought. It put his threat level below a ten year child. He decided to leave with that. His ego would just have to bruise and heal while he was watching the dancing girls.

    Getting reduced to random ectoplasm was not in his orders.

    The magician glared at the wreckage. Bodies appeared in the open. He placed one of them in a coffin that appeared out of nothing. The others he placed in bags that danced out of the night. Then the whole assemblage disappeared with the sound of pages being thumbed rapidly.

    The gatherer breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. He could have been killed just that easy.

    He waited until the ether cleared before he split the tree apart and stepped out. He pressed the opening closed so he wouldn't leave anything traceable behind. He looked around the scene one more time.

    The two dead soldiers looked up at the sky with their empty eyes. The magician hadn't noticed them on the ground. Of course he seemed to be busy recovering what he wanted to pay attention to a semivisible pair of corpses a few feet away from where he was working.

    His master expected him home with his prizes. He should hurry back before he had more trouble.

    He raised a hand. The ground covered the two soldiers with dirt and debris from the wreckage. It was an impromptu gesture. He usually wouldn't do such a thing.

    Maybe he was feeling a little sympathetic right then.

    He spread his wings. Then he took to the air. He headed toward the heart of Germany. His master would have to move eventually to keep ahead of the Allies. Until then, the chief planned to conduct his business just as he had been.

    He arrived on the roof of the boss's business a few moments later. He opened the door and went inside. Once he was free of his prizes, he could enjoy the nightlife.

    "Come in, Wick." The boss's voice drifted to him from below. "Did you get them?"

    The gatherer folded his wings away as he walked downstairs. There was no flying inside. He paused at the parlor door before entering. Traces of magic drifted in the air. It smelled like onions and old socks.

    "Of course." The bottles went on the table in front of the boss. The magician picked each up and examined them. He smiled.

    "Very good." He put the bottles in a cabinet behind him. "You're free until I need you again."
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  3. #18
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    sothisis what mad george wanted
    street level super-heroics is actually pulp in disguise
    assault

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  4. #19
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    Ah. I get the feeling that the bottles contain the sould of those German soldiers that intercepted Wick and that Mad George intends to use his necromancy on them to enslave them.

    Those poor buggers. No-one deserves that.
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    Oh I don't know about that
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    You do realize that until the late 1960's next of kin of US servicemen killed were notified by telegram, don't you?
    And in WWII, US wardead were not shipped home, but were buried overseas?
    Violence, naked force, has settled more issues in history than has any other factor, and the contrary opinion is wishful thinking at its worst. Nations and peoples who forget this basic truth have always paid for it with their lives and freedoms. — Robert Heinlein

  7. #22
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    And waht about OPSEC? "We will be retrieving his body in a few months"....I hope the German's don't get wind of that.
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  8. #23
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    Quote Originally Posted by Yansuf View Post
    You do realize that until the late 1960's next of kin of US servicemen killed were notified by telegram, don't you?
    And in WWII, US wardead were not shipped home, but were buried overseas?
    Yes. I glossed over the telegram since it didn't fit the profile and they had no place to send it other than a box at a general store in the middle of nowhere.
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  9. #24
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    Quote Originally Posted by kahuna's bro View Post
    sothisis what mad george wanted
    Other villains run around. This goes back to the first Tribble story/Hermit Spangler/ Duster Boy story.
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    Re: Letters from a Stranger

    Quote Originally Posted by wick View Post
    And waht about OPSEC? "We will be retrieving his body in a few months"....I hope the German's don't get wind of that.
    Our forces will be in the area in a couple of months which might be true since this part took place after D-Day.
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