PEACE! IT'S OVER
WARD ENDS
IT'S OFFICIAL: WAR IS OVER IN EUROPE
NAZI'S QUIT
VICTORY! JAPAN QUITS
HITLER IS DEAD ADMIRAL DONITZ, FUHRER
The headlines all announced one undeniable joyous fact: the end of the war! World War II came to an end, and the world rejoiced. Iconic images of returning heroes kissing their wives and girlfriends marked the end of an era. Some say it was the only just war in the history of man.
Perhaps decades later, the young generations who knew only peace would be more critical. However, for those who lived through the era and could ask the older generation about wars past, they would say it was the good fight.
When contrasted with later wars such as Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and so forth, this point is even stronger.
Still, war is war, and no matter what the headlines said, the war didn't end just because the papers said so. Soldiers returned suffering PTSD; some didn't know what to do now that they weren't fighting. Others came home to find their jobs had been taken by the women they left behind. Now, the men wanted their jobs back and their wives back in the kitchen.
For the minorities who fought for the red, white, and blue, for those whose blood was as red as every other American. For those who found brotherhood on the battlefield despite culture and race. They returned to the same old racial scorn they thought they left when they went to war for their country.
Instead, they found that, by and large, race still mattered. But for men who put their lives on the line to defend the idea of freedom from tyranny, racism wasn't something they were willing to accept, not without a fight. Although filled with fighting spirit, they waged this war not through guns but through ideals.
Many men fought the good fight who wanted things to be like they were before the war. They wanted normalcy, but normalcy was a hard thing to define when the world changed so much.
Everyone discovered that finding their place in the world after the war was hard.
If this were the struggle for your average Joe, imagine how difficult the end of the war was for those glorious mystery men and women. Before and during the war, the brightly colored heroes of the day and night stood as beacons of hope. They fought at home and abroad. Some utilize amazing abilities beyond the ken of the everyday schmuk. Others made use of their keen minds to solve impossible problems that threatened the lives of all.
Once the war ended, no one cared about superheroes anymore. For your average Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, the superhero was an absurdity of war; now it was peacetime. We've had enough absurdity and war, thank you very much!
This point was made undeniably clear by the passage of the Vigilante Retirement Act of 1946, which was a bipartisan bill signed and promoted by none other than the superhero's President, Harry S. Truman.
He signed the Vigilante Retirement Act at the same time he signed the Employment Act of 1946.
Much like the soldier, the superheroes needed to remove their uniform and meld into the quaint everyday life of the everyman. But these star-spangled heroes, colorful circus clowns of might, and fearsome demons that stalked the criminal were not the everyman, not all of them.
Among them, there was one man who never settled. He could never forget his adventures, and he would never stop seeking the active life of the American superhero.
Dr. Victor Charles "Charlie" Finn, known to the world as The Mentalist! As well as by other titles such as: The Magical Mind, Mesmerizing Master of Mental Accuity, and Celebrated Cerebralist. He never stopped answering the call of adventure.
Despite his loud and public battle cry that he would never give up, and his dream of adventure, Dr. Victor Finn disappeared from the public eye. Five years after the war ended, Victor quietly reappeared and began reaching out to his former comrades.
In the West Keys, near a military base, a new suburban neighborhood was under development. The new neighborhood was bright with smooth paved roads, manicured lawns, clean white driveways sloping slightly up, and ending at an idealic car garage. There was one particular house, a single-story house like the others, with an American flag flying proudly from a flagpole attached to the top of the garage, that was different. Its difference wasn't in the way it looked, but in the people who resided there.
A beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties, in a fashionable yellow dress with a high collar, held a baby in her left arm. Next to her, a little boy about two years old was wearing shorts and a white button-up short-sleeved shirt tucked neatly into the shorts. He had blond hair and a ruddy complexion.
The young woman stood before the mailbox holding the mail in her right hand. "Come, Georgie." The boy followed his mother back into the house. When the woman entered her home, there was a small table near the entrance where she placed the mail. Above the table was a mirror. She checked her hair and then looked at each piece of mail, one after another. She stopped on one piece that drew her attention, "Oh, an old friend," the woman smiled.
She took the letter and entered the living room, where she placed the baby in a crib. The baby slept quietly. As she was walking toward the kitchen table and opening her mail, she heard a commotion from the garage, followed by the kitchen door to the garage opening, "Honey, I'm home!"
"I'm in the kitchen, dear," the young woman called out. A tall and handsome man, in his early thirties, came into the kitchen with a big smile. He was wearing a Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt, light tanned shorts, bare feet, a captain's hat, and a pipe in his mouth. He puffed on his pipe as he walked in to see his wife at the table.
She made a face, "Oh my, the ocean smell is so strong. Did you go swimming or fishing?" The woman asked as she put a finger to her nose, overwhelmed by the smell. She looked down at his bare feet, "Oh! My dear, have you gone native on me? Where are your shoes?"
The man likewise looked down at his bare feet and then back at his wife, "Bets, you know how it is when I go fishing with President Truman. My shoes are in the garage, drying. They got a bit wet, don't worry, I've got the fish and the gear in the garage, I'll get it all cleaned up," the man's son came running from another room when he heard his father, "Daddy!" The boy yelled in delight. The man scooped up the boy in his big, strong hands and hugged him. "Hey, ya, Georgie, how's my big boy?"
The woman looked at the father and son and smiled before scowling, "Oh, Kurt, you're getting your fish smell all over Georgie's new play clothes! Now, I'll have to change him and wash his new clothes!"
Kurt looked at his wife, "Sorry."
"What did the President have to say?" Betsy was obviously curious. She always perked up when it came to Kurt's stories about the President.
"He was talking to me about Korea. He wants me to join up again and help the country."
"You don't want to, isn't it our duty as Americans?"
"Ha, yeah, I asked him if I would get to command a ship, but he wants me to sign up and be Captain Neptune again without calling me Captain Neptune. You know, I was a naval Captain before Pearl Harbor, but all they remember me for is swimming around in the ocean, tearing apart enemy ships.
He also wants to keep me as a secret weapon, so I won't get any recognition for what I do, except for maybe some future advancement or help if I ever go into politics. Honestly, Bets, they used us as their symbols in the war, but swept us under the rug after the fighting was done.
If he thinks I'll do such a thankless job like that again, and not even give me a ship, well, he can forget it. Besides, it's only been five years, and now we're in another war. I'm tired of war; I fought my last one. Well, if it were against Nazis again or something similar, I might consider it. This war is just cleaning up the mess of playing nice with the commies in the second war. I don't want to see a bunch of kids killed over something like this
She glanced at him sideways, "Speaking of Korea, go get cleaned up, we got a very interesting letter from Victor. We'll read it together when you finish getting cleaned up." Betsy waved the letter at her husband.
"Oh, Victor? What's that crazy guy up to?" Kurt laughed.
"Get cleaned up, and I'll tell you," his wife commanded, but scrunched her face in that way he thought was cute. He smiled, put down his son, and went to clean up.
Betsy let out a sigh and looked at her son, "Come on, let's clean you."
In Miami, Florida, a very tall couple walked along a street together, getting stares and gasps from all the passersby on the street. The woman was over six and a half feet tall, and her husband looked like he might be nearly eight feet tall. The couple didn't look overly skinny; both were nicely proportioned, just a lot bigger than everyone else.
The man was extremely muscular, causing many men to gulp when they saw him. He was dressed in a light blue suit, a white shirt, and a bright yellow tie. A yellow hat with a blue band around it sat atop his head.
His wife wore a dark blue and white dress with a small blue hat on her head. The blue high heels made her look even taller than she already was, but next to her husband, she looked short.
"Oh, I wish we lived near our families, then we wouldn't stand out so much," the woman commented to her husband.
"I rather enjoy the attention. Look at all of these little guys, don't they look scared?" The man laughed heartily.
"I wish you would change your attitude, love. What shall we do when we have children? If everyone is too scared to approach us, how shall our children find playmates?" The woman asked worriedly.
"Why are you worried about children? It'll be another seven years until we can complete a gene matrix," her husband gave her a strange look.
"It's just, well… Betsy already has two children. I wanted our children to be friends with their children, but at this rate, her kids will be nearly grown before our children enter school."
"Say, I heard old Doc Chaney and his wife, Merribel or whatever, just welcomed their first. We should go and see them," the brutish-looking man said outloud.
"Joe, do you really expect me to go to Alaska? It's too cold there. Why he chose to live there, I will never know. At least Kurt and Betsy live in Florida as well. Their home is in such a nice and warm place," the tall woman remarked.
"Listen, Salls, I don't know why anyone would live in such a cold place, but Doc Chaney's always been a bit odd. Maybe we'll see him at the reunion," Joe thought for a moment.
"Wouldn't that be nice? Perhaps we'll see all of our old friends. Sula, Alex, Victor, the Kings, Chaney's, the ladies from Heroine Homefront Brigade, all of our old friends and comrades," Sally smiled gently.
"I'd like to see those guys from Valor Company, especially Vulcan. He's one of the few I can spar with. My club against his hammer, epic and glorious!"
"I wish others knew you the way I know you, a wise and intelligent man. Unfortunately, you act like a brute!" Although Sally seemed upset, a gentle smile graced her picturesque face, and a quiet laugh escaped. Joe smiled kindly at his wife.
The pair finally made their way to a large pickup truck and drove home. Similar to Betsy and Kurt King, Joseph and Sally Earl lived in a new suburban neighborhood.
They parked their car in the driveway, and Joseph went to the mailbox. He flipped through the mail as his wife was unlocking the front door to the house.
He came across a letter and yelled out with a big laugh, "Well, I'll be, Sally, speak of the devil, we got a letter from Victor!"
The door opened, but Sally paused and turned back to her husband, "Victor wrote? What does it say?"
"I don't know, I just saw it, come on, let's get inside and see what's going on."
In other places throughout the United States, others found they received a letter from the Enigmatic Dr. Victor Finn. Not everyone was as excited to get a letter from all of him, but all of them were fascinated by its contents.
My Dearest Friends,
Perhaps you have become aware of the little conflict heating up in Korea…