Chapter 1

A glint of light shone through a gap in the blackout curtains, Lieutenant Steven Martin grunted in his sleep and turned his face away from the glare of the sunlight.

“Lieutenant!”

Steven Martin awoke from his troubled sleep.
It was about six in the morning and the sun was high in the sky, the cold British air hit the lieutenant as he wiped his blurry eyes and looked up into the worried face of Private Wilcox.

“Yes Private.”
“Lieutenant, Fort Belcan at Portsmouth was destroyed over-night, we only managed to save eleven of the officers.”
“Good God, how did it happen Wilcox?”
“We don’t know yet Lieutenant, but the men are looking into it, They sent me in a jeep to collect you and bring you ove.r”

Lieutenant Martin had been promoted to his post in London on 12 February 1941 after years of hard preparation. He came from a pretty normal family, his mother worked in a munitions factory and his dad worked for a fuel firm. He had lived his life the same as most children of his time. But only for the last two years did he feel that he was actually doing something with his life. He had only really been promoted to Lieutenant because the last one had been hit by a Nazi bomber crash landing after being shot down by the British Anti-Aircraft gunners. He died instantly and Martin was selected to fill his place. Now it was up to Martin to do his job!

“Certainly, just let me get my jacket Wilcox”
“Fine sir, I’ll tell the driver to start the Jeep”

Martin fumbled through his small pile of belongings in his cramped London office and collected his coat, hat and .45 calibre pistol, he figured it could come in useful.

Private Wilcox came back into the room, “Ready to go sir?”
“Ready Wilcox, let’s go!”

Lieutenant Martin and Private Wilcox both headed outside to the road and found the Jeep waiting for them, being driven by a man wearing a British Intelligence Agency badge with the name Arnold Bellamy in underneath in typewriter-text. They climbed in and set off on the bumpy ride to Fort Belcan which was around 20 miles from where Martin had been staying.

“Well then Wilcox, what’s the details?”
“Twenty-four dead and eight injured, the eleven who we saved, and…” he paused for a moment, “…I’m sorry to break this to you Lieutenant, but...your son was killed as well”

Lieutenant Martin paled and stared away at the road which seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon, “Good God…”
“Are you alright sir?” Wilcox was amazed at the Lieutenant’s sudden change of colour and looked worriedly at him, “Sir, I can arrange for you to receive medical…” he trailed off.
“No Wilcox, I’m not ill. I’m just angry, that bastard Hitler and his bloody ideas, he’s going to pay for this, I’ll make sure he does, if it’s the last thing I ever do…”

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