Trottingham 3:23 PM
"Extra, extra! Battle in Everfree forest marks end of war!"
The battle tarnished streets of Trottingham sat in the shadow of a cloudy day in Equestria as the civilians took to the streets, cleaning up the aftermath of their liberation by the fifth marine division. Many human war correspondents searched the streets looking for a good story while others just explored. After all, it was a whole new world for them. Few soldiers were given leave due to the fact that a changeling counterattack could rear it's ugly head any minute, resulting in the repositioning of thousands of human troops.
Including Corporal Louis Klein of the first marine division.
Hitching a ride on a supply caravan from Canterlot, Klein disembarked the wagon and wandered into town. Leaning on a crutch given to him after sustaining wounds in the battle of Chrysalis' cave, Klein had only one destination on his mind at the moment.
166 Maple Avenue.
Putting the slip of paper back in his pocket, Klein proceeded down the road eyeing the signs that dotted houses and shops. Aside from the ponies and war correspondents, hundreds of annoying television reporters with on-scene camera crews scoured the streets barraging folks about what they could tell them about their experience in the war.
"Hey! Hey you! Jerry, get the camera rolling."
To his left, Klein spotted a thin woman with stylish hair jog up to him in high heels, cameraman trailing behind.
"Jessica Faraday, channel two news. Soldier, care to share with us your harrowing journey during the war?"
Klein lifted up a hand in defense and shook his head earnestly.
"No thanks, I'm just trying to get somewhere." He said, turning his head away from the camera that continued to zoom in on his face.
He would have jogged away if it had not been for the crutch he was using for support.
"Your patch shows you were a part of the first marine division. Can you explain to us what happened during the last hours of the war? You were there after all, Weren't you?" Asked the woman.
She was getting on his nerves now. The fact that the man with the camera insisted on pushing the large device into his face wasn't helping either.
"Yeah I was there... I don't want to talk about it..." Said Klein.
The reporter continued to push him, getting more personal with each prying question.
"Do you think your role in the war wasn't enough?"
"Would you go back and do it all over again if you could? Maybe try to save more lives?"
"Can you tell me about the men you fought alongside that day and why they didn't take part in the battle?"
What did she just say? Something inside Klein snapped as he dropped the crutch, summoning all his strength to stand on both legs.
"What? Didn't take part?" Asked Klein in a low growl.
The woman perked up, readying to answer the soldier.
"Yes, that's what I said. We have indefinite proof from an underlying source that the marines in your division provided covering fire for the advancing Equestrians as they took on the bulk of the army by themselves." Said the woman matter-of-factly.
Klein's fists balled up as he drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
"Howard Buchanon, age nineteen." He said.
"What, I-"
Klein didn't let her finish.
"Killed in action. Face crushed in by a changeling."
The woman stood there, her cameraman keeping the lens trained on the soldier in front of them.
"I don't quite underst-"
Not giving her an inch, Klein attacked verbally again.
"Dwayne Hodges, age twenty four. Killed in action. Body severed in half when a changeling sliced him open with a lance."
Not even waiting for her to say anything more, the angered soldier carried on.
"John Cumberland, age thirty two. Wounded in action. Legs severed during combat."
"Jack Courtland, age twenty four. Killed in action. Shredded to pieces defending a stranded tank crew."
"Mike Doherty, age twenty six. Killed in action. Head severed after taking multiple blows to the neck."
The woman reporter, legs trembling from the onslaught of information, backed away from Klein and into the next street. He had done all he needed to. Straining as he bent down to pick up the crutch, Klein wandered down Maple street looking for the special address, a pair of goggles clinging to his side. The note in Klein's pocket, written to the parents of a young soldier, belonged to Private Sunny Breeze. The simple scratch of paper read:
Dear mom and dad,
If your getting this letter, I'm sorry. No one knew it would come to this, but the thought was definitely floating in the back of my mind when I wrote it. The human giving it to you is my most trusted confidante so please stop hitting him with your frying pan mom. He's not a looter. He's the greatest friend I've ever had. I just want you to know that I love you both so much. Tell little Penumbra about me when she's born. She can have all my stuff, I won't be needing it anyway. I don't mean to end this letter on a sour note, but my sergeant is calling for us.
Lots of love,
Sunny