d happened before even gun powder was
invented.

But it certainly was a strange war. Nothing came over the radio at all.
Nobody seemed to care, really. Probably because they were just plain too
tired. Jim Peters dragged himself to and from work in sort of a daze.
Myra got her housework done, but it was a greater effort every day. All
she could think of was the times she could drop on the lounge for a
rest. She didn't care much whether a war was going on or not.

People had quit waiting for them to come down from the north. They knew
that the places where the bombs had fallen were guarded like Fort Knox.
Nobody got in or out.

Jim remembered the flash, the color, the rumors, the excitement of World
War Two. The grim resolution of the people to buckle down and win it.
Depots jammed. Kids going off to join.

But nobody went to join this war. That was funny. Somehow Jim hadn't
thought of that before. None of the kids was being called up. Did they
have enough men? Washington didn't say. Washington didn't say anything.

And the people didn't seem to care. That was the strange thing, when you
could get your tired mind to focus on it.

The people didn't care. They were too busily occupied with the grim
business of putting one foot in front of the other.

Jim got home one evening to find Myra staring dully at a small handful
of ground meat. "That's a pound," she said.

Jim frowned. "What do you mean? That little bit?"

Myra nodded. "I asked for a pound of hamburger and Art put that much on
the scale. In fact not even that much. It said a pound. I saw it. But
there was such a little bit that he felt guilty and put some more on."

Jim turned away. "I'm not hungry anyhow," he said.

* * * * *

At ten that night, after they were in bed, a knock sounded on the door.
They had been in bed three hours, because all they could think of as
soon as they had eaten was getting into bed and staying there until the
last possible minute on the following morning.

But the knock came and Jim went down. He called back upstairs with more
life than he'd shown in a long time, "Myra--come down. It's Hugh. Hugh's
come to see us."

And Myra came down quickly--something she hadn't done for a long time
either.

Hugh seemed weary and drawn, but his smile was the same. Hugh hadn't
changed a great deal from the gangling kid who never studied mathematics
in school but always had the answers. It came natural to h