Location: Washington D.C. Suburb, three miles from the White House;
"William! William! There you are, slacker! I thought I'd never find you!"
"Oh yeah Bert? You know me, I'm never too far from the action."
Twenty year old William Edward Lund, Private First Class, Company C of the 2nd Battalion, 35th Infantry, 25th Infantry Division of the United States Army turned from a destroyed battle droid to his best friend.
He was smiling, as he always did when the battle was won. It had been an intense battle in a particularly rich suburb of Washington D.C.. The fancy houses were now reduced to rubble, but the droid invaders were all destroyed in the area, and that's all that mattered to William and his Company.
"So what's the Sarge want us to do now?" William asked, pointing to the droid, "We've cleared this neighborhood…. finally. Word has it our main forces are near the White House getting ready to finish these suckers off."
Bert chuckled, removing his helmet, "Yeah, wish we were part of that final push, I hate cleanup duty! You know, it's those damn Stormtroopers fault these droids are here. Still can't believe it's all real, I mean we grew up on those movies! Hey, remember when you and Gus dressed up as Jedi and I was the Stormtrooper and we played mock battles?"
William smiled remembering, "Yeah, I remember. I was always Obi-Wan and Gus was Mace Windu. I also remember we always killed you off."
Bert sighed, "You know, it was two against one. You guys had lightsabers, and I had a stupid blaster. It was hardly fair."
Shaking his head, William put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Bert, they were imaginary weapons. We only won because we could argue and shout better than you about who shot who with what imaginary device," the Private moved from his friend to look across the desolate street they were standing on.
The once bustling suburban neighborhood with trees, white picket fences and beautiful manicured lawns was turned to nothing but ash and dust. A US tank sat smoldering in one lawn, bodies of fallen soldiers strewn about, covered with blankets found in the nearby houses. They hadn't had time to remove the dead yet. The droids hadn't allowed them that sacred privilege.
"Sometimes I wish this was all imaginary," William started, "like the games we used to play. It was simpler then, and if you died, you came back to life when we started a new game. But this…" Private Lund waved a hand out at the destruction before them, he was for once, at a loss of words.
"It's all too real," Bert supplied, walking up to stand next to his friend.
For a few moments, they just stood there, taking in the destruction and wishing things were different.
Finally, William nudged his friend in the side, "Hey, you think we could get a game in before Sarge gives us new orders?"
"Yeah, right!" Bert exclaimed, "No, I learned my lesson the last time you asked me to play Hearts with you. Another thing you're good at that I'm not."
Lund frowned, but before he could assure his friend he was good at things, like killing droids, they heard it.
The sound of a can or some other metal object hitting the ground nearby echoed across the barren street.
Immediately swiveling around, they both brought up their MARS Carbines, ready to fire at whatever had caused the noise. Bert quickly fastened his combat helmet back in place, taking no chances.
They both knew from experience how quick you had to be with the droids. A special type of droid the Army called BX's, or Commando Droids had exacted an incredibly high death toll from Company C. Some of Bert's and William's friends had died at the hands of the sword wielding BX's.
Walking forward, Bert and Private Lund approached a partly destroyed car, from which they heard the noise come from.
Using hand signals, Private Lund indicated for Bert to go around the left side of the car, while he took the right.
Looking back to each other, William gave a nod and they both rushed around either side of the car, their weapons at the ready.
They both stopped abruptly when they saw what was on the other side.
Centering his gun on the target, Private Lund looked up to Bert in amazement and surprise.
Crouched down in front of them was a clone trooper, bloody, wounded, and burnt.
His helmet was off, and he was looking at William with a mixture of surprise, anxiety and hope.
William's first instinct was to help the clone. His Sergeant had told all of Company C about the Republic and its clone army, and how the Earth was aligning itself with them. The clones were supposed to be allies.
But William hesitated when he remembered what else his sergeant had said, 'Under no circumstances do any of you tell a clone, Republic Officer, or Jedi about our knowledge of their universe. Our existing knowledge of them, from the movies to TV shows, is highly classified information. I can't stress enough how important it is that it stays this way. If any of you so much as mention a character or place from their universe to them, you will be punished in such a severe and unpleasant way that when we're done you'll wish you had never been born. Now, do I make myself clear?'
Every soldier present had answered back with a resounding 'yes, sir!'.
Then somebody asked a simple but important question, 'Sir, what if one of the troopers finds out by accident? What do we do then?'
Their sergeant had frowned at that, 'Good question Private. If any of you find out that a trooper knows about our secret, you are to kill that trooper and dispose of his body, period. Understood?'
They had all said 'yes, sir!' again, but with noticeably less enthusiasm. Finding out something like that, that you would have to kill an ally in a contingency situation, tends to put a damper on one's mood.
Remembering all of this, William gulped, looking down his scopes at the wounded clone.
"How much of our conversation did you hear?" Private Lund asked slowly, making sure he was perfectly understood.
The clone looked scared at first, hesitant to say anything.
Realizing what his friend had remembered, Bert cast the clone a dubious look, "Answer the question. Did you overhear our conversation? Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you."
William frowned at his friend, before looking back to the clone. It was a blatant lie, if the clone had overheard anything, they were going to have to kill him.
Finally, the clone looked up at William with trust in his eyes, "I... I did overhear what you guys were saying. I, I swear I didn't mean to. I don't, I don't understand though? How do you guys know about General Windu?"
William gulped again, a pang of guilt went through his body as he looked to Bert and nodded.
"I really wish you hadn't said that."
With that, they both raised their guns at the wide-eyed clone.
#
A small squirrel poked its head out of its nest. It was a very timid creature, and the recent fighting hadn't done anything to calm its nerves. The squirrel worried about a lot of things, food, sleep, hiding, birds, specifically hawks and definitely humans. It had a very tough life.
Its home was mostly destroyed now, even though it's true still stood. However, it knew exactly where in the ash below it could find one of its many stashes of food.
Nervously twitching its tail, ever so quietly it bounded down the charred tree trunk, across the ash covered lawn to a once vivid flower garden. Scampering under the black skeletal remains of a bush, it busily started digging down into the smoldering charcoal earth for its prize.
After a few seconds of busy digging, it found what it was looking for.
Grabbing the large acorn with its teeth, the squirrel quickly scampered back across the lawn. But before it got to its tree, the sound of human voices stopped it in its tracks. Holding the acorn between its front paws, the squirrel sat up on its haunches and looked out across the barren street. Some of the creatures responsible for the destruction of its home were talking over there.
Sniffing the air with its overly sensitive nose, the squirrel could smell the humans, it could smell the fear and anxiety coming from them.
Two sudden and loud retorts from the human's killing devices sent the squirrel scurrying back up its tree for shelter. It had what it wanted, there was no reason to linger on the ground. Soon, it would be safe inside its un-burned home, inside the oak tree.
#
The clone slowly opened his eyes with surprise. He was alive? When the two soldiers had pointed their guns right at him, again, he had immediately cringed, waiting for the inevitable.
He had known as soon as he heard what the soldiers had talked about, that it was a bad idea to eavesdrop on the conversation. But when they asked him about it, he had decided to trust them, to take them at their word.
For some reason, they had fired their guns, but he was still alive.
Looking up, he was surprised to see the soldiers had moved their guns to the side at the last second, sparing his life.
The one soldier, shaking his head, and muttering some curse, brought his gun to his side.
"Sorry about that," the soldier started, his voice a mixture of regret and embarrassment, "We were under orders to… to eliminate anyone who overheard things they weren't supposed to hear, like what you heard me and my friend saying earlier. I can explain more, but first, we should probably introduce ourselves, I'm Private William Lund, and this is Private Bert Finnel."
The clone looked a little unsure, as if this was yet another trap. The first time he trusted them moments before, he almost got shot, he wasn't sure if he wanted to do it again. But finally, he decided to trust them one last time. He was separated from his squad, bleeding, injured, and needed help. If the soldiers could help him out just a little bit, it was better than no help at all.
"I'm CT-24-1111, but you can call me Nonah."
Private Lund smiled, offering a hand for Nonah to take, before hauling the clone to his feet.
"Pleased to meet you Nonah, and again, sorry we had to meet that way. It was a mistake to say the least. Now, Bert, let's find a place to hunker down for a while. Nonah, you're injured."
Nonah nodded, "Yeah, the clankers got some shots off at me, but I made it through."
Smirking, Lund motioned for them to head towards a nearby house.
"Well, let's get you fixed up, and I'll explain some things while we're at it. Like why we almost shot you."
Nonah nodded, before walking with the two soldiers to a nearby house that was still partially standing.
William knew they had a big problem on their hands now. They had disobeyed direct orders, and because of that, a clone knew that the US had more knowledge about Republic than it should.
But for Private Lund, that wasn't an issue. He had made a decision to spare a man's life, and he would stick with it, his Sergeant and the US Army be damned.
Now all they needed to do was figure out exactly what to do next.
What could go wrong?
Twenty year old Private First Class William Edward Lund was a rifleman with Company C of the 2nd Battalion, 35th Infantry, 25th Infantry Division, of the United States Army. He served and died during the Vietnam War.
Born on 11/10/1946 in Philadelphia, William graduated from Cardinal Dougherty High School in June, 1964, becoming an upholsterer before joining the United States Army in February 1966.
Private Lund was killed in action in Kontum Province on March 21, 1967. He was only five months away from finishing his two-year enlistment in August of 1967.
He was best remembered as a shrewd card player by one friend who recalled Lund teaching him to play hearts: "He always shot us that sly, smirky grin when he was about to slap us with that damn queen."
He is also survived by two sisters, Mrs. Mary Maciejwski and Mrs. Elizabeth Connelly.
William Edward Lund is honored on Panel 17E, Row 7 of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington D.C. and is buried at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Philadelphia, PA..
Yesterday, 11/10/2014, William would have turned 68 had he survived the war. Happy Birthday William E. Lund. Thank you for your service, your ultimate sacrifice, and courage to do what many cannot even contemplate doing today.
A/N: I wanted to do something for Veterans Day this year, what with all the conflicts going on in the world right now. I was searching the Internet when I came across the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial Fund Website. That's when I found the Wall of Faces, a picture database of all the service members who died during the Vietnam War. I quickly decided I would randomly pick someone from the database and write them as a character in the story. My small way of paying tribute to their sacrifice.
It was by pure coincidence that Private William Lund's birthday was a day before Veterans Day, the very day I wrote this chapter. Coincidental, but fitting.
I highly encourage anyone interested to spend a few seconds, minutes, or even hours browsing through the War Memorial database. I never knew William, or his family, but after reading about his life, I have a greater appreciation for the sacrifices he, and so many others have made. I have included the link to William's profile on my profile, and the link to the database. Please take the time to check it out, it's definitely worth it, thanks.
Also, if you noticed, I have changed the WAWL's cover photo temporarily to a picture of the real Private William E. Lund.
That's all for now, I hope you enjoyed the update, more to come hopefully.
-Sly
P.S.: Ehh, the squirrel scene… that was me experimenting with perspectives, and I needed a transition to keep you guys in suspense. Did it work?
Also, this chapter was not beta'd, so if it's a bit rough, I'm sorry. Ms. CT-782 is just slacking off again, I'm sure. : )