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<ul><li><p>Blood of the Unknowns, a </p><p>Sequel to Guns at the Abyss, </p><p>by American Author John </p><p>Sammon, Released on Web-e-</p><p>Books </p><p>An Assistant to a German Chancellor is Thrown into His Masters 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-</p><p>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. </p><p>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 womans 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 governments expansionary view of a European continent. </p><p>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 </p></li><li><p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>Web-e-Books Availability </p><p>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. </p><p>;product=unknowns </p><p>Priced at US $5.95 read on-line or offline, no download or installation required. </p><p>Excerpt: </p><p>Blood of the Unknowns </p><p>The shelling stopped. On their feet, running, stumbling, a man </p><p>to Ernsts right lost his footing, tumbled end-over-end, and fell, face </p><p>forward, onto a rock. He couldnt be helped. They had to press on </p><p>toward the shots, shouts, and screams, to jump down into the trench </p><p>;product=unknowns</p></li><li><p>to hack and stab at shadowy enemy figures, to run along the slatted </p><p>bottom, tripping, falling, getting up, firing, and trampling the dead in </p><p>pursuit of their comrades. Commanded by Ackermann, they removed </p><p>grenades, Ackermann the first to pull the chord and toss a M24 inside </p><p>a dugout. An explosion, muffled groans and screams. The men </p><p>bayonetted, shot, and clubbed their way to the next dugout. </p><p>Ernst used the butt of his rifle to strike a man whod thrust a </p><p>blade at his gut. He pounded another man who was grappling with a </p><p>German soldier. And while he had vowed not to, he tossed grenades </p><p>as if commanded by an unseen force, reflexively, instinctively, the </p><p>fighting surreal until two glancing blows to his shoulder knocked him </p><p>to the dirt, the enemy combatants face close enough to his to hear his </p><p>grunting, heaving, gasps for air, Ernst struggling for breath too, from </p><p>the choking pressure of a rifle stock against his neck, his perceptions </p><p>of the desperate fight blurred, in slow motion, dreamlike, as if he had </p><p>jumped outside of himself to witness his death. Crazed with panic and </p><p>a sudden self-preserving wave of hate, with the strength of four men </p><p>inspired by fear, he jabbed a thumb in the British officers eye then </p><p>beat him with his hands, pried apart his jaw, and cracked his neck, the </p><p>sound of it abruptly breaking Ernsts solemn vow to never kill. </p><p>When silence finally came, Private Frieslaven couldnt </p><p>remember whether hed lost or thrown his three stick grenades, and </p><p>his rifle was missing. Those not killed of the British troops and their </p><p>Nepalese subalterns had fled the trench insufficiently reinforced </p><p>against counterattack. Stunned too much to move, feeling like </p><p>creatures of another world, the German men flopped down, </p><p>exhausted. This was the time the soldiers would learn to call the </p><p>malaise, when in the quiet following an action the overwhelming </p><p>fatigue rendered a man emotionless, barely able to lift a finger or </p><p>express the slightest remark, oblivious to his surrounds, seated for </p><p>hours in the bottom of a trench. </p></li><li><p>The Germans had regained possession of a trench and </p><p>approximately a mile and a half of territory at a cost of nearly three </p><p>hundred lives. Ernst would remember little of it beyond the haunting </p><p>photo dropped in the mud and quickly trampled underfoot of the </p><p>dead Tommys beautiful young wife and daughter. </p></li></ul>