Chapter 18
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The canadian officers arranged for our transport back to America, specifically Milwaukee. We had gone out of our way to rejoin the fight, can't blame them for obliging us. Milwaukee was under siege, from two fronts. Two alien generals were trying to take the city, they were nicknamed Etocles and Polyneisis. I guess those nicknames made sense to the people who came up with them. The rumor was that Polyneises and Etocles had a bet going. Whoever was the first to set foot in Milwaukee, the other one owed them a case of wine. So essentially, we were fighting against Etocles' forces, all so that he would have to give Polyneises a case of wine. This did not do much for our morale. But then our enemy had the same problem, they didn't much like fighting and dying over a bet between two generals. Our radio stations would broadcast this, encourage the enemy to desert. It worked, although not as much as we would have preferred. In my free time, and I didn't get nearly enough of that, I wondered how David was doing. He would have been sent to a P.O.W. camp, I didn't even know which one. I didn't dare to ask. That's the problem with caring about someone on the other side. If someone on your side dies you can mourn them. But if they're on the other side, you're suppossed to be either indifferent or happy about it. In March of 2066 was the Chicago Parade. That's what it was called anyway. The mayor of Chicago had several alien prisoners marched through the street in chains. The crowd taunted and jeered them, even threw things. The local police tried to maintain order, but it eventually turned into a full scale riot. At least six prisoners were killed in this riot, several others were in critical condition. I watched footage of this riot, fearing I would see David amongst the beaten. I was still somewhat suspected because I was jewish, so I had to act like I was cheering the rioters on. I'm not proud of this, but it was what it was.
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Life in Milwaukee was about as normal as one could expect these days. I defended the outer walls five or six days a week. On my off time I went to the movies, played poker with friends, listened to local radio stations. The attacks that did come were mostly small groups, snipers mainly. Occasionally they would lobb shells into Milwaukee, but we would find them and either destroy or sieze their artillery. This made us believe that their units here weren't particularly organized, that doesn't mean they couldn't do some damage. Once, after a shelling, I was amongst those sent to find and neutralize their cannon. We were able to destroy their cannon with a hand grenade. But we were then fired upon by a sniper. I was shot in the leg, but I was somewhat lucky. Three of us were killed before the sniper was taken down. Even though I was in pain a part of me was relieved. I was glad to be alive, and a part of me hoped that this would put me out of the war. I had done my part, fought and killed for my country. I had been a P.O.W. and now I was wounded, all before my 18th birthday. Perhaps I was at long last free.