It was true.
A hundred cities ran red with blood—but day dawned with the flag of freedom flying from every staff save in Norfolk and Boston.
In both those important ports the plot had been betrayed, hundreds of suspected women arrested and imprisoned. The serious part of it was in these two harbors were stationed four huge dreadnaughts and forty submarines with accompanying hydroplanes.
In New York the insurrection had swept all before it. The crews of the submarines were wiped out. Of all who had gathered at the dance and banquet halls—Angela’s work had been perfect—not a sailor from the fleet set foot again on their decks. Our boys, dressed in their uniforms, had captured every ship before day—hand to hand, muscle against muscle, with six inches of cold steel!
The aviation corps had been practically wiped out. Their machines were circling the skies at dawn passing the signals to our commanders. Every arsenal fell and every ammunition factory.
When the sun rose on the harbor of New York the Stars and Stripes flew from every ship and every fort and an army of five hundred thousand men, half of them with the best rifles in their hands and big guns lumbering in their lines, were mobilizing under General Wood to capture Boston and Norfolk.
The battles that followed were brief, bloody and glorious in their end. Norfolk they abandoned and their fleet was concentrated on Boston.
The Imperial Army and Navy fought with reckless
