The old man watched the report on the televisor. The New United States Navy had lost a carrier in the South Atlantic. In less than a month, the NUSN had lost the aura of invincibility that it had carried ever since its inception.
He never thought he would live long enough to see the NUSA actually face a challenge to his dominance. When the World War broke out in the 1950s, he was a sailor in the Georgian Navy. When Georgia was annexed into NUSA, his world was turned upside down. He watched his children and grandchildren slowly become indoctrinated into the NUSA mindset. He watched ORRA take away lifelong friends of his for being "Inferiors". He had to adjust to the new reality to stay alive. In public, he did his best to pay lip service to NUSA ideology. But now, it seemed like those days would be over soon.
James Earl Carter raised his eyes to the heavens. Seems like God has finally answered my prayers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the New United States of America"
The camera cut to President Charles Oswald II on a podium.
"Greetings my fellow Americans. As you now, our nation has been under assault since the beginning of the new year by a new and mysterious enemy. This enemy has stolen land that has belonged to NUSA for decades. They dare to challenge the might of our military. We will show them the foolishness of such a decision."
"No doubt you have heard about the losses suffered by our navy. But our military-industrial complex is strong, and those losses can easily be replaced. Right now we have no less than three William S. Sims-class aircraft carriers under construction. Once we get in gear, we will crush you like ants."
"But it doesn't have to be that way. The Bible shows that while God is unrelenting in his judgement of sinners, He is still willing to show mercy towards those who repent of their sins. So, assuming they are watching now, we have an offer to this enemy: surrender now, and you will be forgiven of all hostilities. Those judged worthy of being true Americans will be spared and allowed to join American society. Any Inferiors among you will be ruthlessly purged. You have three days to make your decision. If you have not surrendered by then, your destruction is assured. This has been the President of the New United States of America. Good night, and All Hail!"
Prime Minister Trudeau and his cabinet were gathered around a television. They had managed to tune in to a NUSA TV channel and had just watched Oswald's address.
"Anyone notice how odd the President's speech sounded?" asked Trudeau. "Almost like he was under the influence of some sort of drug."
"Perhaps this President is merely a puppet" suggested Leonid Kovalenko, the Minister of National Defence.
"Great" said Trudeau "Not only is this America totally insane, it's under the control of some kind of conspiracy."
One minute the tanker was sailing across the horizon. The next it was broken in two and the halves were sliding below the surface.
"Another one down" said Commander Eric Beard.
Over the past month, the Royal Australian Navy had conducted a campaign of unrestricted submarine warfare against Indonesia. Their mission was to disrupt the movement of vital resources and stifle Indonesia's ability to wage war.
As Collins turned and cruised away from the sinking tanker, another, larger target was picked up by the ship's sonar.
"How many fish do we have left?" asked Beard. "Two" replied his torpedo officer. "Load them up" Beard commanded "We have a big and juicy target".
The torpedoes were loaded up and fired. Minutes later, the Indonesian aircraft carrier IM Theodoor F. Lucas-which was undergoing sea trials after refueling and overhaul-turned turtle and slipped into the depths. Her escorts would send the next several hours frantically searching for the submarine.
Nieuw Breda (OTL Jakarta), Indonesia January 30, 2015
"Greetings Mr. Chancellor" said Admiral Alexander Geerts as he walked into the office of Chancellor David Beckers.
The chancellor rose from his desk. "Greetings Admiral" he said "what brings you here?"
"I have some bad news" said Geerts "Theodoor F. Lucas was lost to submarine attack in the Java Sea."
Beckers's jaw dropped in shock. "Say what?!" he exclaimed "we lost a carrier in our home waters?"
Geerts nodded "I'm afraid so Mr. Chancellor"
"Didn't she have any escort ships?" Beckers asked angrily.
"Just two destroyers." Geerts replied sheepishly.
"Why couldn't you spare any more escort ships?"
"Because they're either prosecuting the naval war against the new enemy, protecting convoys and large warships against submarines, or either in dry dock or at the bottom thanks to said submarines."
"Couldn't you have summoned up more any more?"
"Sir we can't simply conjure ships out of thin air" said Geerts in exasperation. "We need money and resources. Perhaps we might have more destroyers and other escorts if you didn't blow our military budget on big, flashy supercarriers and-"
"SHUT YOUR DAMNED MOUTH" yelled Beckers as he pulled a pistol from his pocket and shot Geerts twice in the stomach. The admiral fell to the floor, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain.
"Get that man a medic" Beckers ordered his aide.
His secretary gulped. "What did you just do?" she asked in disbelief.
"Enforce the subordination of the military to the civilian government" Beckers said coldly.
Captain Phillip Hunter stared at the night sky as his Avro Lancaster bomber cruised over the Texan plains. Hunter and his crew were here to help wreck Texas's oil fields and put a dent in America's oil supply.
Hunter couldn't help but admire the aircraft that he had been given command of. Named for the famous WWII bomber, the Lancaster had begun development in the mid-1970s. At the time, it seemed like developing a new strategic bomber was a fool's errand when ICBMs and SLBMs could deliver nukes faster and more efficiently. However, in 1979 a defector from the UAPR revealed that America's Ballistic Missile Early Warning System-touted as being the model of reliability-had raised no less than three false alarms over the past decade. The thought of a computer error causing nuclear Armageddon was deeply troubling to both sides of the Cold War, so in 1980 the British Empire and the UAPR signed a treaty banning any nuclear weapons delivery system that couldn't be recalled after launch. The Lancaster made its first flight the next year, though teething troubles meant it didn't enter service until 1988. The resulting aircraft was very similar to the UAPR's own B-1 bomber, prompting accusations of espionage from the APAAF. The RAF retorted by saying that their designers had simply came to identical conclusions while deciding which features would best fit the mission profile.
Together with the Avro Vulcan, the Lancaster formed the basis of Britain's nuclear deterrent. Fortunately, tonight's mission utilized conventional ordnance. On Hunter's order, several bombs were released from the bomb bay and rained on the oil fields below. The crew was rewarded with several explosions as the wells burst into flame.
"Mission accomplished, boys" Hunter told his crew. "Now let's get back to Cold Lake".
"Evening Marshal" said Brownback as he walked into the office of his second-in-command, ORRA Sky Marshal Richard Oswald. Oswald turned around and saluted Brownback. "Evening secretary" he replied "have you heard anything about the progress of the war?"
Brownback groaned. "Well" he began "Our army is still stalemated in Canada. Also, this new enemy's navy has inflicted several crushing losses on our own navy. So far, we've lost two carriers, three battleships, one submarine, and a dozen other ships."
Oswald shook his head. "By golly, we're getting our asses kicked" he muttered. "Does dear old dad know about this?"
Brownback smirked. "Not really" he replied. "Most of the time he's drugged to the gills to keep him compliant. We just trot him out from time to time and have him read from teleprompters. We don't tell him the whole story."
Oswald nodded. "Good. Make sure he stays that way."
Brownback nodded "I will. Good luck and all hail!". With that, Brownback left the room.
Yes thought Oswald as he sat down. Keep Daddy under control. We still need him around for a little longer.
Custer Youth Brigade Headmaster-Marshal James Robert Duggar watched as the cadets unloaded their assault rifles into the targets. With the war in the north heating up, the CYB had stepped up combat training for its members.
"Excellent work boys" said Duggar "now hang up your rifles and get ready for lunch."
"But Marshal" said one of the cadets "we need more practice if we're really gonna be killing those devils!"
Duggar nodded. "I admire your dedication, son" he replied "but you can't fight on an empty stomach."
As the boys went for the mess hall, Duggar stopped to reflect. The cadets being trained for combat today were young even by CYB standards, with the youngest being a mere 10-11. While Duggar himself hoped they wouldn't have to actually face combat, he knew that most of them were very eager to defend America against this new foe. God bless them all he thought.
Hoek paced back in forth in front of his office. With all of Australia save for Nieuw-Caledonië and a small part of Nieuw-Guinea having been confirmed to have vanished in the event, Governor Hoek had went ahead and declared himself Acting President.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Hoek picked it up. "This is Acting President Hoek" he said "What is your business?"
"Mr. Hoek" said the voice on the other end "This is Lt. General Backer. General Hendrikus de Bie, the man in charge of the remaining Australian forces in Niew-Guinea, has declared himself president. Right now he is demanding all remnants of the civilian government and military recognize his authority."
"The fool!" yelled Hoek "Our nation has already been reduced to a tiny remnant and now he wishes to divide us? Arrest him!"
Backer sighed. "We couldn't if we tried. de Bie has the allegiance of almost all of the remaining forces. If we tried to rise up, he would have us all slaughtered."
"Well, I still control the remainder of Australia's navy" said Hoek "we should send them over there to teach de Bie a lesson".
"We can't do that" said Backer "we and the Indonesians need our navy in the war against the new enemy. There simply aren't enough ships to spare."
Hoek slammed his fist down on the desk. "Dammit!" he yelled "In that case, find a way to get rid of him discreetly. We can't have ourselves divided in a time like this!" With that, Hoek slammed the phone down. "That fucking jackal" he muttered.
Flight Lieutenant Carl Franken opened his eyes to a fluorescent light. He looked around to find himself in what looked like a hospital room.
What the hell happened? thought Franken. The last thing he remembered was bailing out of his bomber with the rest of his crew. Just when it looked like he might have made a safe parachute landing, he was hit by a gust of wind while touching down, causing him to stumble and hit his head. He then blacked out, and now he was here.
Suddenly, the door swung open. An Aborigine man in a military uniform walked in. Franken narrowed his eyes. "And just who are you?" he asked.
"I am Group Captain Samuel Karro O'Malley of the Royal Australian Air Force" the man introduced himself.
Franken burst out laughing. "You kid, right?" he spat "A filthy rock ape like you rising to a position of authority?"
O'Malley grimaced but maintained his cool. "And your name is?"
"Flight Lt. Carl Franken, Aeroforce of the Republic of Australia."
"Well, Mr. Franken" said O'Malley "Care to enlighten me on the history of your Australia?"
Franken sniffed. "What's it to you?" he asked.
"We want to know exactly what we're fighting" said O'Malley.
Franken looked sullen for a second, then took a deep breath. "After the British Empire collapsed in the 1810s" he said "Australia was divided between France and the Netherlands. In the 1950s, however, the Netherlands turned against France in the World War and lost her independence as a result. The Dutch half of Australia was annexed by France. In the early 1970s, we rose up against France. When the nations of Europe destroyed themselves in nuclear war, we were able to throw off our chains and create our own nation." He glared at O'Malley. "But now you seek to destroy that nation."
"Technically, we already succeeded" said O'Malley "the vast majority of your country vanished in the event. All that's left is a sad remnant".
"It's not over yet!" screamed Franken. "We still have strong allies. Once they come, they'll crush you all! Then, we'll take back what we've lost."
"Sure you will" said O'Malley. "I gotta go now". And with that O'Malley left the room, leaving Franken to seethe.
Secretary Martinage looked at the carrier under construction in the harbor. Petters Shipbuilding Co. CEO C. Michael Petters stood beside him.
"So this is the NUSAS William S. Sims" said Martinage. Petters nodded. "This is the most advanced ship we've built for the New United States Navy to date." he said. "She's got electromagnetic aircraft catapults, more powerful and efficient reactors, and greater automation for more efficient operation."
"So, when will she be ready for commissioning?" Martinage asked.
Petters sheepishly looked at the ground, and then at Martinage. "August 2016." he said nervously. "She'll be launched this coming May."
Martinage groaned. "That long?" he replied "we can't wait that long! Our navy has already been badly thrashed."
"Relax" said Petters "even with the recent losses, we still have a very strong navy-nine aircraft carriers, seven battleships, 10 submarines, and close to 80 cruisers, destroyers, and frigates. Once we get in gear, it'll only be a matter of time before all of the enemy's ships are resting on the ocean floor."
Martinage nodded. "Indeed" he said "we will avenge the brave sailors lost to this new foe. All hail!"
Private John Morrell was monitoring the brig where NUSA prisoners of war were kept. Most of them were defiant, screaming about how Canada had taken their land and that America was gonna get it back. One prisoner, however, had remained quiet. Until this moment, when Morrell was walking past the cell.
"How can I help you against the NUSA?" he asked.
Morrell stopped and turned to face the man. He looked to be about college-aged, with light brown hair and blue eyes.
"What are you talking about?" Morrell asked. "Why would a NUSA soldier want to suddenly start fighting against NUSA?"
The man looked down before facing Morrell. "My name is Nathan Corey" he said. "I was born into a Southron family from Georgia. My grandparents were young when Georgia fell to NUSA. After the war, despite their anger at the conquest of their country, they pretended to accept NUSA rule. For nearly six decades, our family has kept up the facade of being loyal American citizens, while praying that someday NUSA would fall. When you guys appeared, I was one of many young men drafted into this war. Despite my distaste, I answered the call, because I knew me and my entire family would be executed if I refused. Now, I want to join you in taking the fight to NUSA".
Morrell sighed. "Well, for one thing, it's no guarantee that we'll be able to actually beat NUSA. Even if we keep them from conquering us, I doubt that we'll be able to actually secure independence for your homeland. Also, I'm not sure just what to do with you. We can't simply have you join our army, that's for sure. But we'll probably find something for you to do. I'll take your case to my superiors."
Seven weeks after Warrior's first raid on Hawaii, the old ship was once again paying a visit to Pearl Harbor.
Captain Jason Johnson watched from the bridge as the first wave of 26 strike aircraft came in. According to radio chatter from the pilots, the pickings had been more meager this time around-just one cruiser, seven destroyers, and five frigates were in the harbor. The pilots had bagged three destroyers and one frigate.
"This ship has seen more action in the past seven weeks than she has in the 39 years since her commissioning" said Executive Officer Donald Holmes. Johnson nodded. "Indeed" he replied "It's ironic that she's only getting to see combat near the end of her service life".
Suddenly, a report came in from the RDF that 11 enemy aircraft were coming in from Hawaii. The Standing Air Patrol of 10 Typhoons was vectored towards the enemy contacts. Several Typhoons from the strike abandoned their landing pattern to join the defenders.
Warrior's escorts took care of three aircraft with their AAMs. Six more fell to the Typhoons. But two bombers survived to release their payload before being shot down by Warrior's own defenses. One bomb missed the carrier and exploded in the sea. Another bomb, however, managed to penetrate her forward elevator and exploded in her hangar deck. The resulting fire would burn for several hours before being extinguished, claiming the lives of 50 sailors and injuring nearly 200 more.
Warrior would survive, but she had been put out of action for the time being.
As the damaged carrier steamed towards Esquimalt with her battle group, Captain Johnson thanked the heavens that his earlier remark did not turn out to be a literal prediction.
The screams echoed throughout the prison. Colonel David Angleton, the commander of the 13th ORRA Mechanized Unit, smiled as the blowtorch was applied to the prisoner's skin. The unlucky French-Canadian soldier had been captured outside of Sault St. Marie. His dogtags had identified him as Paul Asselin. Now, the Bad Luck Brigade was venting their frustration at their lack of success in Canada on the hapless POW. Sergeant Bartholomew Schaefer was currently working on the seated and bound prisoner, whose body now bore several small but severe burns.
"I don't care how much pain you put me through!" the man yelled in that slimy French accent "You're not getting any information from me!"
"Information?" Angleton raised an eyebrow "Who said we were doing this for information? We just like seeing Inferiors like you suffer." Again, Schaefer put the flame to the man's chest, scorching another patch of skin. Again, Asselin threw his head back in agony. "You sick assholes!" he yelled "This violates the laws and customs of war!"
Angleton burst into hysterical laughter. "Oh, you think prisoners of war should actually be treated well?" he snorted "What a fucking joke!" After several guffaws, the colonel composed himself and looked Asselin straight in the eye. "We will crush your army like ants and move back into the lands you stole from us. Inferiors like you will be snuffed out. Those worthy of becoming true Americans will be spared and allowed to assimilate into American society."
Asselin glared at Angleton "What makes you think the people of Canada will willingly submit to your rule?" he asked. "You're so insane, not even the neo-Nazis in the Canadian Heritage Party would want to join you".
Angleton smirked. "Oh, we'll turn them to our side, one way or another". He then turned and walked out of the room, leaving Schaefer to continue subjecting Asselin to ORRA's "hospitality".
The sniper pulled the trigger, and the NUSA trooper fell to the ground, the entire upper half of his head exploding into a red slurry.
Roberto Rosas set down his rifle and studied the scene with his binoculars. The street was littered with the bodies of NUSA soldiers. The old man and his rifle had claimed yet more victims.
When the final war between the nations of Europe erupted in the 1970s, Rosas was a young private in the Tripartite Army. He had served in the defense of northern France. After the bombs fell, Rosas had braved the chaos that gripped the continent to return to his shattered homeland and reunite with his family. For the next two decades, the Rosas family did their best to survive in the hell that was post-war Spain, living off the land and fighting bandits and warlords. The arrival of NUSA in the 1990s turned everything upside down. The Americans went to work "civilizing" Spain by killing the Spanish off en masse. A few were selected as manual laborers to rebuild the shattered cities for American colonists. Rosas had put his military skills to work to defend his family. For the past twenty years, he had been a constant thorn in the side of the Americans, making hit-and-run attacks using nothing more than an old Tripartite Army-issued sniper rifle-a keepsake from his military days.
Every day, they slaughter us like livestock Rosas thought. We could have prevented this. The Great Powers of Europe could've put aside their hostility towards each other and stood together against NUSA. But instead, we let our own ancient rivalries get the better of us and ultimately destroy us, leaving NUSA to inherit the Earth. The though made Rosas bitter.
But now, a ray of hope had appeared. By eavesdropping on NUSA soldiers, Rosas learned that a strange new nation had appeared out of nowhere. This nation apparently had a big a reach as NUSA, possessing territory on every continent, and was just as powerful. NUSA and her allies had already suffered several defeats on the high seas, and their campaigns on land were not going their way. If what they are saying is true, Rosas thought as he lied down on his cot then perhaps there is hope for breaking NUSA's hold on the world.
Captain Hunter and his crew were at work once again, this time on a shipyard in New York City. Their mission this time was to fuck up NUSA's warship construction as much as possible. Already, three hulls had been reduced to blazing scrap.
Hunter spied what looked like a carrier. By the looks of it, the ship was very close to completion.
"Jackpot" said Hunter to his co-pilot.
"Sky Marshal Richard Oswald" Oswald said cheerfully as he answered the phone. Secretary Brownback was holding a press conference, leaving Oswald to man the office. "What is your business?"
"This is C. Michael Petters" said the voice on the other end. "I have some bad news".
Oswald's smile faded. "What is it?" he asked.
Petters sighed. "Our shipyard was struck by bombers. At least two cruiser hulls and five destroyer hulls have been destroyed on the slipway. The William S. Sims took two bomb hits. She's not a total write-off, but the repairs needed means that her launch will be delayed by a while-possibly up to six months".
"Thank you for notifying me" Oswald said calmly. He then dialled Gobells Aeroforce Base-the base responsible for the air defense of the NYC area. Colonel Norton Means answered the phone.
"What do you want, Sky Marshal?" asked Means.
"Means!" yelled Oswald "How the fuck do you explain this? Those bastards are striking our shipyards now. Where the fuck where you?"
Means scratched his head on the other end of the line. "Well" he explained "Those bombers used by the enemy appear to have a rather thin radar cross-section and sophisticated radar-jamming equipment. We didn't even catch wind of the attack until it was already underway. Fortunately, we did manage to down one out of the eight bombers and damage three more while they were retreating".
"Just one?" screamed Oswald. "If your pilots are that shitty, then it's no wonder the enemy had such good luck. I oughta drop a motherfucking nuke on your sorry heads."
Means sighed and cursed under his breath. Unlike his more level-headed father, Richard Oswald had a rather unpredictable temper. "It won't happen again, sir. I promise". He quickly hung up before Oswald could spew more invective at him. That man is every bit his grandpa's grandson he thought.
"Broadcasting from Philadelphia around the Free World on televisors..."
"...And on Uncle Sam's Talkiebox Station!"
Weir: "Horror in Nieuw Caledonië as rival factions vie for power".
Masters: "Triumph in the North Sea as an enemy vessel is reported sunk".
Weir looked at the camera gravely. "We've received word that Alfons Hoek, Acting President of the Republic of Australia, was assassinated by a car bomb. The bomb is believed to have been planted by loyalists of General Hendrikus De Bie, Hoek's rival for the presidency who currently controls Australia's rump territory on New Guinea". The camera cut to the streets of Noumea, where a fierce battle was playing out. "Right now, fighting is taking place between supporters of De Bie and Hoek. It remains unclear just who is in charge on Nieuw Caledonië."
Masters cut in. "On a more positive note, the NUSN has reported the sinking of an enemy aircraft carrier in the North Sea. NUSAS Permit fired a single torpedo at the carrier and two more at one of her escorts. The crew of the sub reported the carrier to be in a sinking condition before contact was lost, presumably due to attack by the carrier's escorts. President Oswald has given the crew a posthumous Presidential Unit Citation for the sacrifice they made on behalf of the American people." Scapa Flow, Scotland, United Kingdom March 5, 2015
HMS Formidable had been put in dry dock, giving Captain William Wilson a good look at the gaping hole in her port side. Formidable had been returning to Scapa Flow after another raid on Scandinavia when she and her battle group were ambushed by a submarine. Her escorts had managed to sink the sub, but not before Formidable had took a single fish and the frigate HMS Coalisland took two. Formidable had been hobbled yet still remained afloat, but the old frigate had gone belly-up and descended into the abyss. Fortunately, casualties were rather light-only 18 dead. The remainder of the group had sailed into Scapa Flow a few hours ago.
"So, how long until she's seaworthy again?" Wilson asked the shipyard supervisor. "Give us two or three months, and she should be ready for action again". "Good" said Wilson "The sooner this ship can get back to fighting, the better".
It was another normal night in the brig for Chaplain Bradley Hart. Hart had volunteered to help monitor the POWs. The captured soldiers were an unruly bunch, continually boasting about how America would crush Canada and reclaim its lost territory. Right now, Hart was having a lively theological debate with one prisoner.
"So, you actually think your ventures are sanctioned by God" Hart asked the rather smug blonde man. The prisoner nodded "Everything we have done over the past centuries-our conquests and purges of the Inferiors-have been ordained by the Almighty!" he proclaimed. "We are God's chosen people!"
Hart narrowed his eyes. "And just what is your evidence for this?" he asked. The prisoner grinned "Just look at this massive empire we've built!" he replied. "We must have been favored by God for us to have such massive success!"
"You think your atrocities are good just because they happened?" Hart snapped back. "You think setting up a totalitarian empire and embarking on genocidal wars of conquest fulfills God's will simply because it happened? You're fucking insane!"
"It says in the Bible that we are to show no mercy towards those who defy our God" the prisoner said calmly. "Everything we've done has followed this command". Hart fought the urge to punch the man through the bars of the prison door. "Bullshit!" he yelled "God's word says we should oppose evil, but we should also give evildoers a chance to repent before fighting against them and violence should never be used as a first resort".
"If a man refuses to turn his heart to Lord at the first chance he gets, then he's clearly beyond saving" the prisoner said firmly.
Hart rolled his eyes and groaned. "Whatever" he said. "Besides, your definition of people who defy God is warped. You keep going on about how Catholics and Orthodox believers are false Christians and their churches are of Satan, but the kind of Christianity you embrace didn't exist until the 16th century. So that must mean that for centuries, there was no true Christian church and that no one was being saved. How do you square that with the Bible, which said that the Church would never perish from this Earth?"
The prisoner laughed. "Believe it or not, there were true Bible-believing sects during the era of Papist tyranny. The Papists and their Orthodox allies conspired to hide such sects from the record of history".
Hart moved on. "Why do you seek to eliminate other races? Isn't the color of a person's skin supposed to irrelevant compared to the content of their character?"
The man laughed again. "It's simple" he said. "The lesser races were not created directly by God like the Elect, but evolved from the beasts of the field. Therefore, they lack souls like us. It is our sacred duty to wipe them out so that they do not pollute our Earth and our people".
Hart had heard enough by this point. "You may think you're in the right" said Hart "But your time will become. The Bible says that while evildoers may prosper in the short term, they will get their comeuppance eventually. Now, I'll leave you here with your delusions". Hart walked away, leaving the man to rant on.
The camera showed a scene of fighting in an Irish village. "Fighting continues in Ireland as the British Army pushes south."
Next, an automobile assembly line. "British automakers wind down production of civilian models as economy moves to total war mode."
Then, a shot of burning airplane wreckage on the outskirts of Glasgow. "The air war in the north continues to rage."
The camera cut to a newscaster at his desk. "Good evening Britain. I'm Simon McCoy, and this is BBC News at One."
"We start with the war in Ireland. British Army units continue their march south through the Emerald Isle. What they have found so far is shocking." The screen showed a small village. "Villages living in near-medieval conditions. If their residents are to be believed, the Americans set up these villages to make room for American colonists. The generally poor living conditions were due to the Americans forbidding them from possessing modern technology. The villagers have generally been grateful to the British for their arrival."
The camera cut to an old man being held at gunpoint by British soldiers. "The American colonists themselves have been far less receptive." McCoy intoned over the scene. The old man screamed at the soldiers. "This is my land dammit! I earned it fighting in the '65 campaigns! You have no right to take it from me!" "The colonists have put up fierce resistance to the British advance" said McCoy "and caused major trouble in occupied areas."
McCoy moved on to the next story. "Today, Rolls-Royce completed its transition to war production as production of civilian automobiles was suspended. The last car, a black Phantom sedan, rolled out of the Goodwood plant this morning. Other automotive companies are following Rolls-Royce's lead and shutting down auto production to make room for production of essential war materiel. The ceasing of car production is part of Britain's ongoing move to total war mode."
"Finally, the RAF finds itself on the defensive as NUSA launches air raids in the northeast." The camera cut to a burning building in Glasgow. "American bombers from Scandinavia have targeted cities in northeastern England and Eastern Scotland. So far, an estimated 5,100 people have died and nearly 10,000 left homeless as a result of the raids."
futurist: Good luck to you, MN!
Jan 17, 2019 5:10:51 GMT
MinnesotaNationalist: well, that was the most underwhelming jury duty ever. Came in one day, was told to go home, and now I'm told that I'm not needed anymore for this session.
Jan 23, 2019 4:26:12 GMT
ieph: I've been actually thinking of just spending my time here, gradually decreasing my presence in AH.com. But in the meantime, I'm spending my time reviving one of my old WIPs sadly lost to the sands of time (I guess)
Jul 23, 2019 11:24:08 GMT
ieph: In fact, I'm even thinking of reviving my wikibox TL right here.
Jul 23, 2019 20:21:52 GMT
jennysnooper87: If that's the case, would it be okay if I moved the TL from AH.com to this site?
Aug 21, 2019 1:53:59 GMT
railmotive: Checking out this website, seems quite nice.
Oct 23, 2019 22:35:16 GMT