The sun had barely cleared the horizon when the last organized resistance on Guam ended.
It did not end with a final stand, nor a dramatic charge, nor any act that would later be elevated into legend.
It ended the way most wars ended once superiority had been established, quietly, unevenly, and without ceremony.
A radio crackled, a platoon surrendered, a battery went silent. Somewhere inland, a frightened officer burned documents in a steel drum and fled into the jungle, hoping anonymity might succeed where arms had failed.
Six hours.
That was all it had taken from the first landings to effective control of the island.
Generaloberst Josef "Sepp" Dietrich stood on the balcony of the former American naval headquarters, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the harbor below.
Smoke long since swallowed by the sea, along with the wrecks of ships that had never left their moorings.
