Unknown by Name or Rank

"Unknown by Name or Rank" 	"Unknown by Name or Rank"
 	
Cast 	Cast
Main Cast:*Bacon IV*Diana Loudoun*Lana Loudoun	Supporting Cast:*Bake Hamleigh *Roseanna Hamleigh Guest Cast: *Marigold Hyde
Chronology 	Chronology
←Previous"The White Ship" 	Next→"In the Trenches of Despair"
"Unknown by Name or Rank" is the fifth episode of War and the 54th episode overall. 
The episode was published on January 24, 2021.
In the episode, Diana Loudoun fears for her daughter's life when she receives a draft notice. In the capital of Porcinia, King Bacon fears for the royal succession, distrustful of his wayward son. 
==Appendix==
05 Unknown by Name or Rank.png|Episode Title Card
Slide5.png|A: Map of the War, 710
Royal_Houses_of_Cartonia.png|B: Porcinian Royal Family, 710
Screen Shot 2020-04-16 at 2.27.59 PM.png|C: The Pink Palace, Sowtown, Porcinia
==The Episode==
—Diary of Lana Loudoun—
-January 14, 710-
The foxes have slain King Poultrus of Gallix. They have assassinated Queen Ana of Simeone. They have shown no mercy, and no respect for neutrality. The remaining three neutral nations were left without option. Today, Simeone, Porcinia, and Ursus declared war on the Summer Sun. 
We are at war with the Summer Sun. 
How did we get here? Seriously, how did things fall apart so quickly? Was peace always this fragile? Today was the first day in this war that I cried, and I do not think it’ll be the last time. But we are of the Granite Bloc now. And like its namesake, I will be unbroken. 
—The Pink Palace, Sowtown, Porcinia—
—Kingdom of the Pigs—
-March 30, 710-
The Porcinian capital of Sowtown was wedged between the fork of the Boar’s Head river. Originally a colony for female sows escaping persecution in the savage times before the Harmony Crown, it soon grew to be the capital and retained its initial name. 
The Pink Palace was today host to a rare celebration. Uncommon for the time, as the Kingdom was now two months into war, and uncommon for another reason: it was the investiture of the eldest child as Heir Apparent to the throne. Due to the former hinderance, King Bacon IV opted for a private televised ceremony and a small reception afterward. The investiture of the Heir Apparent, titled either a Boar or Sow depending on the eldest child’s gender, was an important occasion. 
King Bacon had three children, and his eldest shared the namesake of the last four Kings of Porcinia: Bacon Hamleigh. To differentiate between the son and father, King Bacon’s son went by Bake. 
Bake was now eighteen years old, and thus ready for the official duties associated with being the Boar of Porcinia. Under usual circumstances he would take residence in the town of Boar’s Head, where the eponymous river diverged, and rule as the community’s leader. This would teach him the art of kingship and prepare him for a future on the throne. 
King Bacon was less keen on the idea now that war raged across Cartonia. His wife, the Queen Roseanna, agreed. Bake should be kept at home in Sowtown and learn directly from his father. Boar’s Head’s population approved of the delay in his duty. Unprecedented times called for unprecedented measures. 
The repast was held in the reception room of the Pink Palace, overlooking Hamleigh Square. After the Hamleigh dynasty deposed the previous ruling family in 625 in a civil war, many monuments and landmarks around the country were renamed. Hamleigh Square was one of them. 
King Bacon IV had been on the throne for fifteen years. In all that time, paranoia surrounding the eventual downfall of his family loomed like a dark cloud over all of his decisions. His great-grandfather, King Bacon I the Usurper, was the one to overthrow the reigning King and stamp out resistance to his rule. His heirs have not rested since. The four Bacon Kings had attempted to solidify power by marrying into the noble houses most likely to rise against them—the Hyde, Holburn, and Cornwall families.
The succession was a sensitive issue, at least to Bacon. The constitution of Porcinia clearly dictated that absolute primogeniture—the system by which the eldest child inherited all titles—was not to be altered. The heir apparent could not be passed over, removed from the line of succession, or voluntarily refuse their duty. Bacon was not pleased with the man his eldest son Bake had grown into. Even now, as Bacon watched his gluttonous son indulge on the feast, he doubted the succession. 
Bake’s tutors described him as arrogant, reckless, egotistical, and overprivileged. Very rarely had King Bacon heard someone speak favorably about Bake. He failed nearly all of his classes and ruthlessly harassed a tutor into resigning, causing a six month gap in schooling as Bacon and Queen Roseanna campaigned tirelessly for a replacement. Bake snuck out of the palace, used illegal drugs, overdrank, overate, and had a penchant for cruelty. He took after neither of his parents, and Bacon and Roseanna were still morbidly curious where he developed this behavior. Their other two children were angels. 
Bacon’s misgivings about Bake were definitely stronger before the war. His main fear was that Bake would eventually cause enough damage to the government and the crown that the Hamleigh dynasty would fall, and civil war would return to the country as rival houses vied for the throne. Bacon had not been alive when Bacon the Usurper had wrested the crown from the corpse of the former King, thus elevating the noble Hamleigh family to royalty. Though Bacon IV did not condone the actions of his ancestors, he was determined to preserve peace. 
With the war taking priority, Bacon was less concerned about succession. The war would sooner destroy Porcinia than Bake’s recalcitrance. 
Bacon coughed loudly into his sleeve and allowed his worries about succession to dissipate temporarily. The reception was almost over, and he had actual urgent matters awaiting him. 
“You’re coughing again,” Queen Roseanna muttered quietly. “I can hear the pain in your throat. Won’t you see your doctor?” 
“I’m fine,” Bacon insisted. “There’s so much dust in here. It’s getting caught in my throat.” 
“No one else is coughing, dear,” Roseanna pointed out. She was not going to let this health business drop. 
“I have a respiratory problem. You know that.” 
“I do,” she replied with poise. “That is why I think you should speak to your doctor.” 
Bacon sighed. 
“Alright. I’ll go organize an appointment. Will you keep an eye on Bake? Make sure he doesn’t do anything shameful.” 
Roseanna agreed as the pair watched their son bark a laugh at some obscene joke a friend had cracked. Bacon thanked a few of the attendants for their service before passing into the corridor connecting the reception room to the Great Hall. He ascended the spiral staircase to his own private office, and locked himself inside. 
A stack of telegrams was waiting in the tray, a few of them in red envelopes. That meant absolutely urgent, and should be read immediately. Two were from Canis, and a third originated from Ursus. He chose to read King Archibald’s first; the Urso-Porcinian alliance was the most sacred. 
“Dear Bacon,” the telegram read, “I write to congratulate your son on his investiture as Boar. May he blossom under your tutelage.” 
Bacon rolled his eyes. That was not worthy of a red envelope. 
He made a note to contact his physician, who at present was attending a conference between medical professionals in regard to the new war. Army medics would have to be trained, and that was risky business. Medical practice usually took years just to become moderately proficient. Now they would have to educate soldiers on complex, yet necessary, tactics to use in the trenches. 
The other two Canisian telegrams remained in the tray as another one caught his eye. It was stamped with a Hamleigh family seal, albeit an old one. Bacon slit it open and read,
Dearest cousin,
I have learned that a conscription notice is coming to the villages of Porcinia. I understand this measure, and indeed agree that it will be necessary to safeguard our national interests in this war. As you know, I have a daughter who is draft-eligible. She is my only child and everything in my world. I beseech you to retract her draft notice, as I fear I will be unable to convince her to object to it. 
I send love and courage your way as you lead us through fire. 
Your cousin,
Diana Hamleigh Loudoun
Bacon frowned and sighed. Diana…
Her telegrams had become more recent since the war began, though he was accustomed to receiving some sort of communication around major holidays. They had been close growing up as cousins together in the Pink Palace. Both were grandchildren of Bacon II. During the reign of Bacon’s father, Bacon III, Diana became pregnant. Bacon III was furious that she would shame the family, despite her far removal from the line of succession. She was banished from the capital with her bastard, a girl named Lana. The father of the baby evidently abandoned Diana, for Bacon had never heard what had happened to him. Diana took a different last name—after the County of Loudoun—and moved to a quiet country village near the river. 
Bacon responded to Diana’s telegrams, even if it was a simple acknowledgement of receipt. He pitied her. No Hamleigh should be exiled from the capital. The family needed to be united. After Bacon III died in 690 and Bacon IV ascended to the throne, he wrote to Diana inviting her formally back to the capital. She refused on the grounds that her life was happy and the court was poison. It also became clear that Lana Loudoun had no idea she was a Hamleigh at all. 
This telegram, however, was the first time Diana had requested any kind of favor. She wanted Bacon to halt Lana’s draft notice. Bacon was unsure if Lana was on the first list, but even if she was it was too late to stop it. The mail had already been sent. 
He left Diana’s message open on his desk and focused instead on the urgent telegrams from Canis. 
—Ripper, Porcinia—
-April 2, 710-
Diana Loudoun was restless, and was plagued with insomnia. In her nightmares, she saw Cartonia aflame, their perfect world of peace tearing at the seams. Of course, life in Ripper itself was much unchanged. The war for Porcinia was concentrated in Psittancyna, north of the border. In January, after the signing of the declaration of war, the parrots invaded Ursus and Porcinia. The two nations, coupled with forces from Phantine and Equine Isle, were prepared and pushed back, establishing the infamous trench line entirely within Psittancynesian borders. 
Despite this, the King announced a forthcoming draft to bolster Porcinian army reserves. The conscription affected young pigs between the ages of 20 and 27, Lana included. She telegrammed the King pleading with him to reverse the notice for Lana, but he had not yet responded. 
Diana’s work as the village’s seamstress was likely to be commandeered by the government to help stitch army uniforms for the region. She did not mind that at all; anything she could do to help the war effort was noble in its own right. Lana had always hated sewing, knitting, crocheting, and was not keen on joining her mother in that field. 
“Morning, mom,” Lana yawned as she lumbered out of her bedroom. 
“Good morning,” Diana replied, envious that Lana was able to sleep so soundly. 
Lana scanned the kitchen table. 
“Did the newspaper come?” 
“Oh…” 
Diana glanced at the front door. She forgot to check. Lana understood and went to grab it off the step. As Lana ate her breakfast, she pored over the newspaper for anything she could add to her diary. The thick maroon tome was part of her person now. She carried it with her everywhere. Diana was disheartened to know it only contained a narrative of the war. Lana went through four years of university studying to be a diplomat only to emerge in a world quickly isolating within their borders. There was no need for new diplomats now, leaving Lana confined to her village. An economic recession further hampered the job search. 
“I called Dr. Hampton this morning,” Diana mentioned. “He said he’s not sure if he can write you an exemption notice if your draft notice comes. I know you don’t have a medical condition that would preclude you, but I thought maybe he could…figure something out.” 
Lana stopped chewing and hesitantly closed the newspaper. 
“About that…I was thinking of enlisting in the army myself.” 
Diana gasped and sloshed her coffee over her lap. She was so shocked she didn’t even notice. 
“You…why?”
Lana gestured at the diary with a wave of her hand. 
“I have to be more than someone who just writes down what’s happening. There aren’t jobs for me right now, and I think it’s a noble cause. Not everyone who enlists is active combat…”
“NO!” Diana thundered. “Absolutely. Not. You are not joining the army in any capacity.” 
Lana seemed surprised by her mother’s vehemency. Diana forced herself to soften. 
“Honey, I cannot lose you. It would destroy me.” 
Lana hurried to hug her mother, which was slightly comforting. 
“Mom, I know this is hard, and far from ideal. What if everyone made the same choice you did and shielded their child from war? We would have no army, and our nation would collapse. We have to stand up where we can. I am able…”
“You can’t!” Diana begged. 
“I am able, mom,” Lana repeated. “I’m sorry, but if I receive a draft notice I will be joining the army.” 
Diana silently pleaded with King Bacon to act on her telegram and cancel Lana’s draft notice. Keeping her daughter out of the war was her utmost priority, and she would risk everything to preserve Lana’s life. 
—The Pink Palace, Sowtown, Porcinia—
-April 5, 710-
King Bacon’s physician, returned from his conference, reentered the room with the test results. Bacon quickly shuffled away his work to give the doctor his undivided attention. Over the course of the afternoon, Bacon allowed himself to be subjected to X-rays, probes, tests, and analysis. Roseanna was adamant on a full screening. His cough was only getting worse. 
“Well,” the physician began, “you’ve known you have a respiratory issue that we previously diagnosed as a stronger strain of asthma. However, further testing leads me to believe that you have pneumoswinoxia. Have you heard of it?” 
The King’s eyes were bulging. 
“No, I haven’t.” 
The doctor nodded. 
“I only ask because it is a hereditary illness, meaning that one of your ancestors must have had it. Pneumoswinoxia is a rare respiratory disease that over time deprives the afflicted of the ability to breathe properly. Breaths become increasingly difficult to take. As the name suggests, it is only prevalent in pigs though similar equivalents for other species do exist. The worst form is pneumopsittoxia in parrots.” 
The doctor cleared his throat and when Bacon was silent, he went on.
“There is no cure for this disease, but treatment does exist. Just because it is rare does not mean it isn’t studied. I’ll send your results out for a second and third opinion. Now that we know that pneumoswinoxia may exist in your family, research will definitely multiply. You may have passed the disease on to your children.” 
Bacon shook his head. 
“This is horrible…does this mean mortality? Will I die young?” 
The doctor shrugged. 
“I cannot say with surety. We will immediately start treatment, of course. I’ll have the royal historian investigate the family’s medical history to ascertain where this may have originated. With the exception of the historian and my two fellow physicians, I shall not divulge the state of your Majesty to any other. I will leave it to you to explain this to your family.” 
The doctor handed over the results of the tests along with a typed synopsis of pneumoswinoxia. Bacon skimmed it. 
“Your Majesty,” the doctor continued, “I will do everything in my power to assist you in this matter. I will add that those that die from pneumoswinoxia usually find death quick and sudden. I implore you to arrange any necessary matters of state should your condition worsen.” 
Bacon stared at the doctor, his heart racing. His mind wandered back to the royal line of succession and his troublesome son. 
—Ripper, Porcinia—
-April 9, 710-
Lana turned the envelope over to see the stamp from the newly-founded War Office of Porcinia. It was addressed to her. Mom was returning from the market with groceries and yarn. She hurried to open it. 
To:
Lana Loudoun
88 East Street
Ripper, Porcinia
You are hereby required to present yourself for Armed Forces Physical Examination at:
Whitechapel Regional Hospital, South Wing, Ward 7, Room 4
At 9:00 on 23 April 710.
Failure to meet your appointment or write to the War Office with a formal appeal will result in a M1000 fine and up to 60 days jail sentence. 
Sincerely,
His Majesty King Bacon IV
And His Majesty’s War Council
Lana folded the paper and pondered the draft notice. She wanted to serve her country and aid Porcinia’s fight against Vulpus. The newspapers told of such atrocities in the trenches perpetrated by the Summer Sun. It was unlikely that the Granite Bloc was guiltless, but Lana was certain the Summer Sun was on the wrong side. 
Mom was horrified at the concept of Lana joining the army. She didn’t seem to realize that there were non-combative positions available. Lana could be a medic, or a supply runner. She just wanted to be useful. Two years had passed since her graduation and all she had done was sit at home, read the news, and write in her diary. 
The diary was on the table beside the draft letter. Nowadays, she carried it from room to room. There was comfort in it, for some reason. A written history of the war so far and her thoughts on it. She wondered what she would do with it when the war was over. There was no way she’d want it published. Too many opinions were written down. 
The quiet streets of Ripper began to clamor, and Lana was drawn to the source of the commotion. Tucking her diary under her arm, she stepped outside. Her neighbors were hastening toward the town square. Locking the door behind her, Lana raced after them. 
The market-goers were clearing their stalls as a convoy of army officers marched into town. Lana searched the crowd for her mother and saw her standing by the yawn and materials shop. 
There were at least four dozen officers in total, strutting in unison. They were all so young. Behind them was a large black truck with a flat bed in the back. Along the sides was the royal insignia of Porcinia. Lana was not sure what this was. No one from the army had come through Ripper since Porcinia entered the war. The draft was only just released and the army so far was consisted purely of volunteers.
As the truck was driven into the market’s center, Lana could see the flat bed was stacked with boxes wrapped in pink sheets. 
No, not sheets. Flags. The flag of Porcinia.
“Oh,” a neighbor cried, “bodies.” 
Lana went cold as she watched the coffins bump into each other. There was at least ten of them. 
“Good afternoon,” a pig at the front announced to the crowd. He wore a special hat unlike the others, so Lana deduced he must have a higher status. 
“Hello,” the Provincial Magistrate of Ripper said in greeting. “Welcome to Ripper.” 
The army pig nodded gravely. 
“My name is Lieutenant Wood. I am the leader of Trench Cluster PP4. The parrots have attacked us relentlessly since January and we have suffered heavy losses. Eleven of our nation’s soldiers fell dead, but their bodies are unrecognizable. DNA tests are inconclusive, and we are searching for family members who may have lost contact with loved ones. We are on a march to the capital for a public announcement, but we wish to stop at communities along the way in case we are able to locate someone who may have known them. These soldiers, unknown by name or rank, deserve to be reunited with their families.”
The villagers bowed theirs heads in solidarity, Lana included. Eleven unidentified pigs who had lost their lives so soon into the war. It must be a disorganized mess if they were already unable to name the dead. Her stomach soured, and she couldn’t look at the coffins. The thought of the disfigured bodies rattling around in the coffins as the truck drove through the countryside made Lana ill. 
“Our condolences, Lieutenant,” the Magistrate responded. “Unfortunately, no one from our village has joined the war effort yet. You will not find their families here.” 
“Wait!” a woman cried from the edge of the market. She meandered toward the Magistrate and Lieutenant. “My sister lives down the river in Whitechapel Fields. Her son went to the war in February and has not communicated…”
The Lieutenant made a note in a little notebook and nodded at the woman. 
“Thank you. We’ll be stopping there tomorrow afternoon. If anyone else has any information that may help us identify these fallen soldiers, please contact the War Office and ask for Lieutenant Wood.” 
The convoy moved out, taking the bodies with them. 
Lana sprinted across the cleared market to her mother. Mom was shaking slightly. 
“Unknown by name or rank…” she gasped. “What happened to the bodies? They must have been obliterated.”
Lana hooked her arm under Mom’s and led her home. The entire village was chattering about the Lieutenant’s visit. When they were home, Lana showed Mom the draft notice. 
Immediately, Mom burst into tears. Lana had never seen such a drastic change in emotion. Mom did not sway or collapse, but just hung her head and sobbed. 
“You can’t go…please…please, let me write an appeal to the King.” 
Lana did not reply right away. She was torn now. Her desire to join the war had waned after the unidentified soldiers made their solemn parade across the Porcinian countryside. Would they ever be identified? Eleven families may come forward, having lost a child, but how to know which was which? The Lieutenant said DNA testing was inconclusive. That was understandable, given how recent the technology was and the high amount of confounding factors. They usually were just enough to confirm species and gender. 
“I have to appeal to the War Office, not the King.” 
Mom looked at Lana with a haggard glare and nodded. 
“Then let’s do it.” 
“Mom…” Lana sighed. “I don’t think I should refuse it.”
Mom’s eyes intensified their gaze. 
“What if you died on the battlefield? If your body rotted in the trenches, and I was all alone? What kind of life do you think I would have?” 
Though Lana could see the logic in her thinking, there was something else that Lana felt was far more pressing. 
“What if Porcinia loses this war and we’re invaded by Psittancyna? What if we’re colonized by foxes? What kind of life would either of us have in a world like that?” 
Mom rocked her head back and forth. 
“There are numerous paths you can take on the home front to contribute to Porcinia’s victory. Me and the other seamstresses today at the market pledged our services to stitching uniforms and other garments for our soldiers in the trenches. That is a noble effort that will keep our troops warm and clothed. You can go to Sowtown and be trained as a home medic so that you may treat soldiers returning from the field, as opposed to being enlisted in active duty and stationed in Psittancyna. Please, Lana. Please. I beg you to write the appeal.” 
Lana was not wholly persuaded. Mom was right, of course. All of Porcinia’s resources and capital were being diverted to the war effort. There was no one working for any industry that would not positively impact the war. Nonessential businesses were shuddering. 
“But Mom…”
She launched herself across the room and grabbed Lana’s trotters. 
“My darling, oh my only daughter…I have sacrificed so much for you to have this quiet peaceful life in Ripper. I have devoted myself to you. I have given you life. I have given you shelter and food and education and love. I have done everything to be a good mother to you. And in return, I have never asked for anything in return. This is all I will ever ask of you. Do not go to war. Do not die like the nameless. Do not become another overlooked sacrifice in this deplorable crusade against amity.” 
Lana chewed her lip. 
“May I think on it?” 
Mom nodded. 
“Of course.” 
—The Pink Palace, Sowtown, Porcinia—
-April 19, 710-
King Bacon IV was still rattled by his doctor’s diagnosis, which had since been doubly confirmed by other physicians. He had pneumoswinoxia. His main fear was still oriented around succession to the throne, which Bacon and Roseanna kept hidden from everyone. Bake was still their son, despite his shortcomings, and was expected to assume the crown’s responsibilities upon Bacon’s death. 
The King was already on his new treatment, and so far he noticed a decrease in his coughing fits. That was auspicious. 
Roseanna suggested that perhaps Bake did need to have additional responsibilities to break him out of his bad habits. The position of Boar designated him as ruler of Boar’s Head, but he could not physically be there to rule due to the war. Bacon had included him on important meetings, but Bake found every way to shirk them. Roseanna’s idea was to lock Bake in a different sort of duty: marriage. 
Due to the fragile state of Hamleigh dynastic rule, the King had to ensure that any royal match would be advantageous to maintaining control of the country. When Bacon was betrothed to Roseanna Cornwall over two decades ago, the marriage was designed to unite the Hamleigh and Cornwall claims to the throne. Any children of the newlyweds would therefore inherit both claims. The same maneuver was used in Bacon III’s marriage to Winifred Holburn and Bacon II’s to Patricia Hyde. 
The Hydes had ruled Porcinia for 300 years before Bacon’s ancestors usurped the crown, but the cadet branches of the family were mighty and threatening. Now, things were essentially peaceful but Bacon was still worried. 
Bake’s personality made securing a match even more difficult. His reputation preceded him, and very few noble families were keen on the idea of sending one of their daughters into his den. Roseanna had selected the Hyde family as Bake’s future in-laws to double down the Hamleigh family’s security from a Hyde claimant. In the eyes of some Porcinians, anyone with the last name Hyde held a greater and stronger claim to the throne than any Hamleigh. 
“Your Majesties,” a page announced, “I present the Baroness of Hyde.” 
Roseanna and Bacon arose together to greet the matriarch of the Hyde family. She curtsied gallantly. 
“Marigold,” Bacon greeted. “We welcome you to the Pink Palace.” 
“Many thanks,” Marigold Hyde replied. “I was intrigued to receive your telegram. You wish to propose a marriage between your son and one of my daughters?” 
Roseanna and Bacon sat, and Marigold followed suit. Roseanna poured three cups of herbal tea. 
“We wish to offer Bake’s hand in marriage,” Bacon said, “to your daughter Crystal Hyde.” 
Marigold’s eyes twinkled. Bacon never knew what she was truly thinking. Was she subtly plotting his overthrow and a restoration of the Hyde monarchy? Technically the two were related, both descendants of one of the last Hyde monarchs. 
“You’ve met Crystal, have you not?” 
“We have,” Roseanna gushed. “Such a beauty. You must be exceedingly proud.”
“I am,” Marigold snapped. “Though I am far prouder of her educational accomplishments than I am for her beauty. I place my children above superficial vanity.” 
Roseanna made a strange choking noise as she fumbled to reply. Bacon swept in to save her. 
“My wife merely meant that your daughter is a monument of Porcinian nobility, and would be an outstanding match for our son.” 
Marigold sipped her tea and cringed at the taste. 
“Hmm. Outstanding match, you say? In what way?”
Neither Roseanna nor Bacon said anything right away, and Marigold used their silence to continue talking. “I disagree. You view my Crystal as nothing more than a political marriage, as yours was. In fact, all Hamleigh Kings following the Usurper were forced to forgo love in favor of a strategic union. History shows that all three have been quite happy, you two included. But your son is not someone I believe Crystal will come to love. Frankly, I think he’s a brazen rapscallion.”
Bacon was stunned. He had not anticipated this to be easy, but he certainly did not expect insults. His will to defend Bake was truncated by the realization that Marigold was right. Bake was, on paper, the most eligible bachelor in Porcinia: heir to the throne! Until someone met him, and then his stock value plummeted. 
“Well, now…” Roseanna began to defend, but Marigold interrupted her. 
“Respectfully, your Majesties, I will not betroth any of my daughters to Bake. I have instructed the other members of my family to do the same. He is a poison and will be the ruin of this country if anointed upon your throne.” 
The eyes in Bacon’s head were about to pop out. 
“Marigold…what are you saying? You’re speaking ill against the Boar…”
The Baroness of Hyde wrinkled her snout. 
“I am saying that perhaps you should focus on perfecting your son before you try to foist him upon an unwitting child of your Kingdom.” 
Marigold stood.
“I shall remain here in the capital tonight before returning to the barony in the morning. We will not discuss this matter further.” 
Neither Bacon nor Roseanna rose to bid her farewell, and instead just dismissed her. 
“She’s right,” Bacon grumbled after the door closed. “Bake is no catch.” 
“He won’t ruin the country,” Roseanna softly protested. 
Bacon rubbed his forehead. 
“We’ll have to do something drastic to groom him for the throne. We cannot change the constitution without the consent of all three houses of Parliament. It’ll take years to get it ratified, and I fear the ensuing uncertainty would enable another family to make a rush for the throne.”
“We have bigger fish to fry,” Roseanna agreed. “The war will not give us enough time to work all of that out.” 
Bacon’s ears perked. The war! Nothing would sober Bake faster than being sent to the front. It was dangerous of course, but Bake had no chance of succeeding in his role as future King if he did not shape up now. Bacon pitched his idea to Roseanna, who was reluctant but ultimately acquiesced. 
Bacon left for the War Office to make the necessary arrangements. Soon, Bake Hamleigh would be an officer of Porcinia. 
—Ripper, Porcinia—
-April 21, 710-
Lana’s appeal was granted. After coming to terms with her mother’s plea, Lana conceded that she would stay in Ripper with her mother and fight on the home front. 
“Oh thank heavens,” Mom exclaimed as she read over the notice from the War Office. “They’ve waived your military service.” 
Lana shrugged. 
“I would have thought they needed to see me at the physical examination first.” 
Mom didn’t seem to care about that. She was just thrilled to have her daughter safe from harm. She clutched the letter to her breast. 
“What changed your mind? What made the difference?” 
“You,” Lana sighed. “You were right. I’m needed here, and there’s a lot of good I can do. And…”
She lifted her diary. “This is something. I have the power to use my words to teach future generations of our family about this war. They can see what life their mother and grandmother experienced in a period of unsurpassed Cartonian aggression.” 
Mom smiled. 
“I have a feeling your diary will be impactful to someone, if not only ourselves.” 
—Diary of Lana Loudoun—
-April 21, 710-
I have been exempted from military duty. We filed an appeal with the War Office, and it was granted even though I never attended my physical exam. They must be accepting appeals at this early stage of the draft. Mom and I discussed this diary, and how it will be part of my contribution to the war effort, as foolish as that sounds. The likelihood of anyone reading this is quite slim. The royal historians will write a far better account of the war. But if I ever have a daughter or son one day, I would very much like for them to read what I lived through. 
Mom thinks I should write my name on the cover or within the front flap. I hadn’t realized that my name wasn’t on it. This is obviously my diary. No one is doubting that. Why do I have to inscribe my name? 
“Because,” Mom said, “when this hell is over, people will want to read it and hear your tale.” 
My tale is bland compared to those dying in the trenches. The ones who are unrecognizable and buried in unmarked graves, their families never receiving the closure they crave. 
I don’t want to sign my name. I cannot fight like the soldiers at the front. And so I cannot die like the nameless. I stand with them, and I live for them. I would like to be nameless. 
Part of me was killed when this war began. A little piece of each of us was taken, never to be returned. 
==Production==
===Continuity and Story Arcs===
The episode opens with every nation at war, the first such episode in the series. 
Cousins Diana Loudoun and King Bacon IV have maintained correspondence since the war began. Despite this, Lana Loudoun remains unaware of her mother’s royal birth.
King Bacon, beset with a rare respiratory disease and irked by his eldest son’s troublesome behavior, began to fear for the royal succession. Bake Hamleigh was subsequently enlisted as an officer of the war.
Lana Loudoun was drafted, but exempted by royal decree after Diana appealed to the King. 
Throughout the first three season, the author of the Diary of War is unknown (until her reveal in “Out of the Frying Pan.” It was often mentioned that the Diary Pig stated why she chose not to sign her name, a reason finally revealed in this episode. Lana Loudoun, in solidarity with the unknown dead, chose to remain anonymous.
===References===
Much of Porcinia is based on the United Kingdom. 
The investiture of the Boar of Porcinia is based on the investiture of the Prince of Wales. 
The Hyde, Holburn, and Cornwall families are named after places in the United Kingdom: Hyde Park, Holburn Station, and Cornwall.
Lana Loudoun’s address (88 East Street) is a historical nod to the Jack the Ripper murders, from which her hometown derives its name. The killings began in 1888 in the East End of London. The hospital, Whitechapel, is also a reference to the killings in Whitechapel.
==Trivia==
*The title of this episode is taken from the tomb of the Unknown Warrior in the United Kingdom. The epitaph for the fallen World War I soldier reads "Beneath this stone rests the body of a British warrior, unknown by name or rank."
**The line was quoted by a lieutenant passing through Ripper, Porcinia, with the bodies of unknown soldiers. Diana Loudoun later repeated the remark.
*At the time of publication, this episode had the smallest cast, with only six characters. This record would be surpassed by “Where the Anomaly Lay.” 
*This is the first episode of the fourth season to take place wholly in one nation. 
*The final diary entry, in which Lana Loudoun states her intentions to remain nameless in her diary, was one of the first scenes of Storytime penned back in 2017. 
Category:Episodes
Category:War Episodes