On this, the last sheaf of paper in my minute book, I write a finishing entry, a summerizational passage, assembling the most momentous of happenings since the onset of radiation devastation. Early on, all material goods became scarce, necessities were in high demand, and it could take hour to get something as simple as milk. Lieutenant Commander Peter Holmes, who also lives in Melbourne with his wife and their daughter, was called on assignment to go on board the U.S.S. Scorpion, the only remaining naval submarine. His commanding officer, Commander Dwight Towers, is an American and throughout the remainder of his life he is one of the people here who have much difficulty coping with ...view middle of the document...
Unlike Peter and I, however, there were others who believed there was nothing left to live for, and so spent their last days miserably. Moira drank herself literally to death, as she swallowed the peaceful-poison-pill with a swig of alcohol, and Towers sailed the sub out to the middle of the ocean before sinking her, drowning himself and the crew on board, in what he called "respect for the navy". Mary, Peter's wife, was at first horrified by the thought of killing her own child, and I understand that, but I am thankful she came around and saw the right of it, for it was not fair for the young girl to have to suffer with radiation poisoning resulting from a conflict she had nothing to do with. I, myself, had nothing to do with he war, although after experiencing it to such as an extent as I have, I certainly wish I had.Perhaps that is what this whole experience was meant to show the world: if we let a nuclear war start, there will be no taking it back, no "game over, start again" chance for humanity or the world. I often find myself wondering, if I had been more aware of what...
