We never found out if it was planned, or just a horrible
coincidence, that the Invasion occurred on Christmas Day. Humanity had stooped
that low before, but aliens were meant to be different.
Not that I cared much, stuck in the tunnels beneath Munich,
lost from my troop, the prototype jammer in a sack. And then he appeared.
A civilian, I presume, given how he held the rifle. The end
of his nose had been hacked off, blood slowly dripping out. But all I cared
about was the torch and map he had.
I never did find out his name.
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