Nobody could remember the reason that the military had moved into the port of Dover. It was funny, but, after so many years, the site of a tank traveling along the road was no longer unusual. A person would probably be more surprised if they did not see one on their way to do various boats waiting to take them across the water.
The days of peace at long passed and everybody had got used to the curfew. It had been decided that a blackout was no longer necessary as everything had infrared cameras anyway. The only solution was that people would move underground in the night times in order to survive.
Living underground was not without problems. Even though there were electricity and provisions of personal space, it generally meant sharing with people you would never associate with. People that would easily get on your nerves and a fight was going to break out.
It was only inevitable that the violence of war would breed violence among neighbors. The military soon found themselves fighting both the enemy and the civilians who used to live in harmony together.
The sergeant found the isolation of being in his tank a blessing.
Written for Sunday photo fiction