The word had come down about the time it stopped snowing: there was a cease fire, maybe a peace treaty. The shelling had stopped a few minutes before, and when the small arms fire trailed off there was an eerie, disturbing quiet.
Two hours later we were exploring no man’s land. The enemy came out of their holes to talk. With six thin spider legs the alien soldiers were having trouble in the snow. A couple of the boys modified some snowshoes for their feet so their medics could hunt for survivors.
I hope all this gets sorted out soon.
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