The Fourth Succession War had started. I was buying food for a party, wondering if my budget would stretch to real coffee for the dessert course, when I noticed that the checkout computers were deserted. I followed a thread of sound to the manager's office to find the entire personnel of the store and several other customers listening to a replay of the now- famous wedding toast, "I give you the Capellan Confederation!" The manager opened a bottle of warm champagne and we toasted "Victory by Christmas". I did not admit to being a neutral; suddenly I didn't feel it was safe. Memory skips now; I cannot recall what became of those groceries. I attempted to put a call though to my brother, but his unit had already been activated. No calls were allowed in or out. I recorded a message, trying to keep my fear from showing. If my family has a motto it's, "Don't upset a warrior going into battle unless you want to sabotage his fighting ability." That comes right before "Don't yodel when your father is taking a nap!" and "If they aren't your coloring pens, keep your hands off!". My guests arrived, some in a party mood (those who hadn't heard yet), and some late, stopping by to say they had business to take care of and couldn't stay. Two never made it at all; one called to denounce me as a traitor because she knew that as a staff member of BattleTechnology, I would not be taking part in the war effort. I called the office; her call had reminded me of our contingency plan for the possibility of war. I was told to pack a bag and report in; "leave what you can't carry. Don't wait for the planetary police - or a mob; get out now, and get out alive." I packed, told my friends to help themselves to what remained, and walked through menacingly silent streets to the office. Just as I arrived, the first fighters were taking to the air. That evening is seven months ago now, and clearer to me than yesterday. Neither my brother nor my sister has spoken to me since; one is missing since the second wave of Operation Gotterdamerung, and one is with her mercenary unit on the opposite side. We're a miniature of all the families torn by this war; I only hope that when it's over we'll be able to clear the air between us. Everyone I talk to has a clear memory of that afternoon or evening when the coverage of a royal wedding in far-off Terra gave way to the knowledge that our peoples were going to war. Where were you? On duty? Taking a shower? At a library studying? Write us a short paragraph and tell us where you were and how you and your associates reacted to the start of the war. Do it within the next Terran Standard Month; send it to us, and there's a good chance you'll see it printed in BattleTechnology. In this issue, Bob Carter files a story of action with the 10th Deneb Lt Cavalry, We continue exerpts from the testimony of Team Banzai's Kahil Holt, involved in the accusations and counter accusations of events last winter on the planet Northwind, a militia woman gives us her side of the story from Second Try - for a lighter note, an incident we can't confirm, told in a bar on Solaris; and Lt Darryl James tells us where he was when the Great War started. In response to complaints from all sides of the Fourth Succession War, Bob Carter asks me to inform you that our staff originates from planets in all the Five Successor States as well as several planetary and system groupings in the Periphery. BattleTechnology must continue to provide neutral coverage; we were founded to keep a flow of information to all warrior personnel; no matter how difficult this is made for us, we will continue to serve in our peculiar and necessary way, taking no sides. September 3029, New Syrtis Back to BattleTechnology 8 Table of Contents Back to BattleTechnology List of Issues Back to MagWeb Magazine List © Copyright 1989 by Pacific Rim Publishing. This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com