Twenty years have fled since Clara Barton carried the
crew of 53-B from the Canaan System. The hospital was the last ship
out, given safe passage by the other firm. Admiral Frederick
Minh-Tannian died with weapon in hand twelve days later, as TerVeen
finally fell. He lived and died the role he demanded of his
command.
His death was his great triumph. Historians now mark it as the
watershed of the war.
We who served him, for one mission or many, and survived, can
neither forget nor forgive. Yet the man was a genius. He
established a goal, and fulfilled it. One stubborn mongrel nipping
at the enemy’s hamstrings, he broke Ulant’s inexorable
stride. After that the war was won. Numbers and production were our
advantages, though blunt instruments slow to hammer out the
armistice.
They were heroes, the people of Climber Fleet One. They were
everything Tannian claimed. In the aggregate. However, we
were individuals, frightened men and women trapped in the crucible
of war.
True heroes seldom picture themselves as heroes. True heroes
just stick to their jobs in the teeth of the dragon winds of heart
and hell.
Twenty years have flown. Only now has the bitterness waned
enough to permit this true tale to be told. There was no effort to
censor me, back when. Civilians decided the public was not
ready for this. Even now, those who bring you this are afraid of
the furor it may raise . . .
For all he seemed shattered and lost, my friend recovered with
his confidence redeemed and renewed. Six years later he commanded
the Task Group that reclaimed Canaan.
Yanevich, Westhause, and Bradley likewise prospered. The first
and last are still in, and Admirals today. Westhause is a math
professor on Canaan.
Piniaz perished his second mission after they gave him his own
Climber. Diekereide was his Engineer. What became of Varese no one
knows.
Of the enlisted men of 53-B, six survived the war. Of those, two
have survived the peace. The price of the Climbers, and of victory,
continues to be paid. Sometimes it seems Ulant came out better than
we did.
Twenty years have fled since Clara Barton carried the
crew of 53-B from the Canaan System. The hospital was the last ship
out, given safe passage by the other firm. Admiral Frederick
Minh-Tannian died with weapon in hand twelve days later, as TerVeen
finally fell. He lived and died the role he demanded of his
command.
His death was his great triumph. Historians now mark it as the
watershed of the war.
We who served him, for one mission or many, and survived, can
neither forget nor forgive. Yet the man was a genius. He
established a goal, and fulfilled it. One stubborn mongrel nipping
at the enemy’s hamstrings, he broke Ulant’s inexorable
stride. After that the war was won. Numbers and production were our
advantages, though blunt instruments slow to hammer out the
armistice.
They were heroes, the people of Climber Fleet One. They were
everything Tannian claimed. In the aggregate. However, we
were individuals, frightened men and women trapped in the crucible
of war.
True heroes seldom picture themselves as heroes. True heroes
just stick to their jobs in the teeth of the dragon winds of heart
and hell.
Twenty years have flown. Only now has the bitterness waned
enough to permit this true tale to be told. There was no effort to
censor me, back when. Civilians decided the public was not
ready for this. Even now, those who bring you this are afraid of
the furor it may raise . . .
For all he seemed shattered and lost, my friend recovered with
his confidence redeemed and renewed. Six years later he commanded
the Task Group that reclaimed Canaan.
Yanevich, Westhause, and Bradley likewise prospered. The first
and last are still in, and Admirals today. Westhause is a math
professor on Canaan.
Piniaz perished his second mission after they gave him his own
Climber. Diekereide was his Engineer. What became of Varese no one
knows.
Of the enlisted men of 53-B, six survived the war. Of those, two
have survived the peace. The price of the Climbers, and of victory,
continues to be paid. Sometimes it seems Ulant came out better than
we did.