Jerry watched from his gun post as the city vanished in a cloud of atomic smoke. His thoughts were of his wife and son, but duty demanded that-- A Soldier's Home Is Battle By Lowell Stone [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy March 1954 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] By the time the radar signal caught their eye it was too late to do anything. Planes traveling faster than sound were already inside the defense zone of the city. Private First Class Jerry Conlon glanced from the radar screen to the other five members of his Atomic Gun Post team on the outer perimeter of the city. The look in their eyes was one of dazed alarm. Automatically he joined them in zipping shut radiation suits, and then they went for the gun controls, knowing it was too late. A flash of intolerable brightness faded out the sun. One of the boys--Conlon saw him still struggling with his radiation suit--didn't make it in time. He paid for his slowness with his life. In that instant of death before his eyes, Jerry thought of his wife and baby son. It was all he had time for. Just the image in his mind. An image of fear, because he wondered about them--were they dying even now? With the great flash Jerry dropped into the prone position that he'd been taught. He was protected because the Gun Post had been holed into the ground and re-enforced with steel-mesh concrete all around. If you see the flash, it's too late, he'd been told. Well, he'd seen the flash all right. When he dropped to the concrete base, the floor rose to meet him halfway. A few seconds later, the suction raised him off the floor and set him down next to the big gun. Jerry crawled back to the protection of the bulwark. He had a hazy glimpse of movement around him, but he couldn't see well enough out of his blinded eyes to make out what the others were doing. Things were beginning to rain down out of the sky now, and it continued to rain for what seemed to Jerry like five or ten minutes. It was fantastic how high some of the debris must have been blasted into the air, and he was afraid to move for a long time lest a rock or bit of metal should suddenly streak down. It was mostly just the smaller pieces that got as far as the Post. The biggest chunks had either been completely disintegrated or splattered along the ground in all directions from the target area. It had been a direct hit. It only took one blast, but that didn't mean it was the only one in the country. When the attack came, every big city had probably been marked for destruction. Every big city! The thought struck him with sickening force. His wife and little boy--Mildred and Billy! How about them? Had the blasts gone inland? "Conlon, are you all right?"