Captain Palen surveyed the fields in front of him. The village of Spruce Grove lay before him. It was a harsh winter, and the red weed hadn't taken root yet since the Martian offensive last fall. At last, we are on the offensive. Kicked out in 1912 but with the Yanks delivering hundreds of their steam tanks, this time we are back and here to stay. Unfortunately we are the bleeding edge of the sword this time. Our objective is not so much the ground to take, but how much noise we can make, and draw attention away from the massive American buildup southwest of here.
Japanese telephones work pretty much like ours, except the person on the other end can't understand you.