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Page 1: Slide share upload blood of the unknowns

Blood of the Unknowns, a

Sequel to Guns at the Abyss,

by American Author John

Sammon, Released on Web-e-

Books®

An Assistant to a German Chancellor is Thrown into His Master’s War Pacific Grove, California, USA – Blood of the Unknowns, a sequel to Guns at the Abyss, is a first edition political and action warfare novel by John Sammon. The book is being released on Web-e-

Books® in support of world-wide, cross-platform distribution of his fictional drama on the hard realities of World War I from the perspective of a German soldier. The Tri-Screen Connection, LLC, publisher and distributor of the exclusive e-book, is providing the technology platform and online shopping website for Blood of the Unknowns.

In the Story Blood of the Unknowns, a sequel to Guns of the Abyss, is the second of two novels of political intrigue and warfare that follow a woman’s attempt to prevent the spreading cataclysm of events that ignite World War I. In Blood of the Unknowns, we visit the outcome of her vain political activism, and the misfortunes of her husband, a former assistant to the German Chancellor, now consigned to the machine of war as a low-ranking army private fighting at the behest of militarist aristocrats supportive of the imperialist government’s expansionary view of a European continent.

Under the moonlight, he and a fellow German soldier, a dark-skinned Gypsy recruit, share the same crowded stand in a muddy, hand-shoveled trench on the

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deadly Western Front. As oddly paired as two men of different backgrounds and experience might be, Privates Frieslaven and Maruska hunker in protective friendship, a vital, cooperative defense against enemy sniper fire, bombs and bayonets, and the failures of German leadership that result in the sacrifice of tens of thousands of men pushed beyond human capacity.

The human toll of death and gruesome injury soars on daily basis as constant waves of courageous soldiers snip through braced lines of rolling barbwire, crawl across pock-marked fields, and watch in war-weary horror as compatriots ordered to charge are felled by machine gun fire so thick that retreat is inevitable for those few left standing. Unilateral surrender is not a choice, however bloodied the troops. New recruits, boys with little training replace the unfortunate millions -- soldiers recorded as missing in action, and unknowns buried in battlefield graves.

Web-e-Books ® Availability

Blood of the Unknowns is viewable in licensed Web-e-Books® format available from The Tri-Screen Connection and is compatible with virtually all Internet browser-capable desktop, laptop, tablet, e-reader, mobile smart phone, or similarly equipped devices running Apple®, Windows®, Android®, and Linux operating systems.

http://www.web-e-books.com/index.php#load?type=book&product=unknowns

Priced at US $5.95 – read on-line or offline, no download or installation required.

Excerpt:

Blood of the Unknowns

The shelling stopped. On their feet, running, stumbling, a man

to Ernst’s right lost his footing, tumbled end-over-end, and fell, face

forward, onto a rock. He couldn’t be helped. They had to press on

toward the shots, shouts, and screams, to jump down into the trench

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to hack and stab at shadowy enemy figures, to run along the slatted

bottom, tripping, falling, getting up, firing, and trampling the dead in

pursuit of their comrades. Commanded by Ackermann, they removed

grenades, Ackermann the first to pull the chord and toss a M24 inside

a dugout. An explosion, muffled groans and screams. The men

bayonetted, shot, and clubbed their way to the next dugout.

Ernst used the butt of his rifle to strike a man who’d thrust a

blade at his gut. He pounded another man who was grappling with a

German soldier. And while he had vowed not to, he tossed grenades

as if commanded by an unseen force, reflexively, instinctively, the

fighting surreal until two glancing blows to his shoulder knocked him

to the dirt, the enemy combatant’s face close enough to his to hear his

grunting, heaving, gasps for air, Ernst struggling for breath too, from

the choking pressure of a rifle stock against his neck, his perceptions

of the desperate fight blurred, in slow motion, dreamlike, as if he had

jumped outside of himself to witness his death. Crazed with panic and

a sudden self-preserving wave of hate, with the strength of four men

inspired by fear, he jabbed a thumb in the British officer’s eye then

beat him with his hands, pried apart his jaw, and cracked his neck, the

sound of it abruptly breaking Ernst’s solemn vow to never kill.

When silence finally came, Private Frieslaven couldn’t

remember whether he’d lost or thrown his three stick grenades, and

his rifle was missing. Those not killed of the British troops and their

Nepalese subalterns had fled the trench insufficiently reinforced

against counterattack. Stunned too much to move, feeling like

creatures of another world, the German men flopped down,

exhausted. This was the time the soldiers would learn to call the

“malaise,” when in the quiet following an action the overwhelming

fatigue rendered a man emotionless, barely able to lift a finger or

express the slightest remark, oblivious to his surrounds, seated for

hours in the bottom of a trench.

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The Germans had regained possession of a trench and

approximately a mile and a half of territory at a cost of nearly three

hundred lives. Ernst would remember little of it beyond the haunting

photo dropped in the mud and quickly trampled underfoot of the

dead Tommy’s beautiful young wife and daughter.