
Eulhae War 1935 - 1941
In 1935, the most devastating conflict ever seen by mankind occurred, lasting some six years, with some of the related conflicts beginning even earlier than that, and involving over 100 million people in over 30 countries. Over 50 million to 85 million people lost their lives in this conflict, which was to many sides differently a struggle of ideologies, a struggle of races, a struggle for territory or a struggle for freedom. From the brutal bombing campaigns and naval warfare of the Sinju Theatre to the horrific atrocities and spectacular mass tank battles of the Uju War, the Eulhae War was the first and last global war.
Heroes and criminals existed on both sides. Atrocities and acts of great kindness came from both sides in every theatre. In the death and destruction of the war, the common man was too often reduced to nothing but a number on the maps and charts of those in command, and when the war was over those individual actions were forgotten in the post-war nationalistic fervour that prosecuted entire races based on their political leaders' actions. But while numerous criminals would be tried and executed and numerous heroes would rise and give great inspiration to their peoples, those that truly bled and died for their nation are too often forgotten in the annals of the destructive conflict.
But some memories are forgotten for a reason.
Invitation-Only Zone 16
Akaishi Province
Greater Empire of Akitsukuni
1934
Another group of relocated natives were coming in, probably from some of the liberated areas past the western border. The winter was in full-force now, and snow was falling at a rapid rate. The wind, oh the wind, it got into everything no matter how many layers you wore. For me, it was two - a thin fur coat and a cotton-stuffed uniform beneath. That wasn't enough to fight Shogun Winter, but when your government regards you as worth less than the weapon you held, you made it enough. Compared to the darker-skinned people streaming in through the gates from the train station, I was like some king. Few even had coats, and some didn't even have shirts, with rags wrapped around their bodies in a poor attempt at fighting the wind. A few collapsed, but some of my fellow guards went to help them up.
These people evolved here and built their culture here, on this land in Uju. It was so sad that they were in such a state. Self-destructive greed and traditionalist primitivism led to their current state on the fringes of society, and with the current war they would need to be moved for their own safety. That's what these Invitation-Only Zones were for; entire camps and villages had been built for them to live in, and they would come and live here in safety within the Empire until the war was over, then they would be relocated to places in their original states where they would not interfere with Akitsukunese settlement. Those that didn't sign up were brought here by force, regrettably, since it was too dangerous for these simple-minded people to live near front lines.
They formed a loose mob outside of the administrative building, no orderly queues like Akitsukunese would naturally form. We had to shout at them over the wind to get them in line, then slowly began admitting people into the building. Their few belongings were searched thoroughly, we did not want any weapons or contraband to end up inside the Zone, after all. Some arguments broke out after this stage as we confiscated their belongings for disinfection, though our trained civilian workers were able to defuse the situations that arose. After that, we split them into males and females, then brought them to the showers to get cleaned up. The train ride had been days long, and many had not bathed for weeks due to the war. So I brought them into the mass showers, groups of fifty at a time. Many were afraid that it would be too cold, but we told them the water was warm.
So around fifty male natives of all ages were now inside the well-lit shower room. I closed the door behind me, like I had done many times before by now, and placed a hand on the knob attached to a pipe next to the door. On time, a truck backed up on the access road behind me and five guys got ready to help load the natives in once they were done.
"I'm going to turn on the water now. Get ready, guys," I said loudly and sternly so all of them inside the room could hear. Murmuring rose inside the room.
I turned the knob, like I had done at least half a dozen times already that day.
Suddenly, someone started banging on the door, his hands clanging against the steel, painted to look like wood.
The standard panicked screaming as they realised:
It wasn't water that hissed out of those showerheads.