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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1501668
by pip
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · War · #1501668
Fiction where in modern times Nazi Germany is the superpower. Not done yet. Enjoy!
“Live as brave men; and if fortune is adverse, front its blows with brave hearts.” Cicero          

Jimmy McCoy

Fort Ashby, West Virginia, October 3rd 2010:

8:25 AM:

All there was, was a small “phoomf” and a small .338 lapuna caliber round flew the 100 yards, through a glass a window and hit the enemy sniper in the bridge of the nose.

“Our Father who art in heaven,”

Another bullet falls into the chamber and is ready to be fired. On cue the enemy spotter pokes his head up to check on his now dead comrade. The second shot blemishes the wall with a red stain where the German had been standing.

“Hallowed be thy name,”

Another bullet enters the chamber. Jimmy lowers his aim to the middle of the camp where the unaware German soldiers were processing new prisoners. Able bodied men were sent to the lifts that were being shuttled down into the coal mines. Women and children were sent into the kitchens and the nearby barracks. Anyone discovered to be Jewish was immediately killed in some kind of gruesome way.

Distant yelling and a commotion drew Jimmy’s scope to the left and next to a truck parked in the camp. A grey, trench coat clad German officer with a luger was screaming at an American man. What looked to be his wife and kids were huddled up against the wheel of the big truck.

The American was kneeling with his hands locked behind his head, crying hysterically in fear. The German officer circling his prisoner would yell something in German and an interpreter would ask it in English.

“Hast du bershlin?”

“Have you been hiding Jews?” the interpreter asked the man.

“No, no of course not!” cried the man desperately in fear.

“Ich weiβ dich haben!”

“I know you-“ the interpreter couldn’t finish before the officer turned, put his pistol to the man’s ear and fired.

Almost pulling the trigger, Jimmy barely caught himself, “the mission” he whispered to himself.

He took his finger off the trigger to scope out the rest of the camp. It was a fairly small coal mine, with one lift and a few buildings and houses surrounding it. A main road came in from the north side of town, bisecting the low ridge where Jimmy was situated. The road ran through and out the town on the other side. Two side streets wide enough for one car contained the only four buildings the Germans hadn’t leveled. Two big houses were still standing, the mining complex and a long wooden house the Germans had built to house prisoners. The town itself was in a small valley, surrounded on all sides by a tree infested ridge. The Germans had erected a trench system that ran a ring around the whole town. Right now the trench was vacant which was perfectly fine to Jimmy’s reasoning.

Going back to the processing he was startled by a momentary flash of light that went directly into his scope, blinding him for a second. Jimmy found the source of the light; his second in command named Albert Hines; also known as Alsarge. Three years of constant fighting had made Alsarge a seasoned veteran at the age of eighteen.

The flash of light was a signal that his “division” was in position and ready to attack. A thumbs up from Jimmy told them let all hell break loose. Jimmy found the officer and rested his scope on the back of the man’s head and waited patiently. One hundred and ten yards, wind; right to left, three miles per hour, one click up and two to the right. He said to himself as he adjusted his scope.

Seconds later remote detonated C4 plastic explosives blew two trucks and four tanks to smithereens. The noise was deafening and the fiery explosions sent out shockwaves of force and heat. However, before the officer could hit the dirt Jimmy took the shot and the German fell flat on his face.

“Thy kingdom come and thy will be done,”

Bolt forward then back and another round was loaded.

Any Germans not killed in the explosion scurried to their trenches to get behind their big 30 mm machine guns. However, to their new found horror the guns and the men manning them disappeared in fireballs as they tripped claymores set up under them. Then Jimmy’s small army led by the reckless Alsarge leaped into the trenches, fist and fiery steel flying.

At that point Jimmy just watched not wanting to kill one of his own men with a bad shot. However, when an enemy soldier ended up behind his friend Alsarge he took a quick shot that hit the soldier in the back between the shoulder blades and luckily was not able to go through his body armor on the other side.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned,” he said as he got up and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He sprinted down the ridge wanting to get to the town first so he could control his men.

When he got to his men, he figured out control would not be necessary. Most had fallen to their knees at the sight of the mass graves that were in the town. Jimmy himself was caught in mid stride. His knees felt weak and his head spun. Four piles twenty feet high of mangled, dismembered bodies dotted the small town. Barely able to shake himself he got his men moving.

They let the prisoners free, asking any of the able bodied men or women if they would join the CUV or the Coalition of the United Virginias. Some ten or fifteen men and women joined their ranks.  They told the rest to hop on the surviving trucks and drive themselves to some kind of refugee camp. At last knowing there was nothing else they could do, burned the bodies hoping it would be enough to restore the honor the Germans had taken away in death.

They grabbed any food that was left and formed up at the center square of the town and Jimmy took roll.

“Umm, kay, yep, all right,” he muttered to himself, “where’s Rodriguez?” he asked turning to Alsarge.

“MIA most likely KIA sir.” He responded.

“Yeah,” then turning back to the assembly, “Walters?”

“Right here sir!” said a sixteen year old boy.

“No Steven.” He corrected.

“He’s KIA sir,” said Alsarge.

He sighed, “Everyone form up on the edge of town on the road there,”

He got off the front porch he had been standing on when one of the rescued prisoners nervously came up to him.

“Umm, Jimmy?” he stuttered.

“You’re in the coalition now, you will address me as sir and sir only and you will call me that until either you somehow rise above me in rank and or I die. Is that clear soldier?” he said as he folded up a map and slung his pack around his shoulder.

“Oh yes sir. Sorry sir. Won’t happen again sir.” He started to slink away but then returned as if he had forgotten something. “Sir, I was wondering if it’s true, that ummm, you-you guys,” he said pointing to the whole group of marching men, “If-if you guys really eat babies?”

“What?” Jimmy snorted.

“That’s what the Germans told us sir,” he responded.

Jimmy smiled at the man, “No we do not eat babies,”

“Yes sir, I mean that’s good sir.” His step became a bit more bouncy. “And sir why is your patch a lightning bolt?”

“Because the Coalition of the United Virginias never strikes the same place twice,” he recited their motto. “Now get in line!”

“Of course sir!” he said skipping right into line.

“Ahh, noobies. My favorite,” said his good friend Alsarge as he came up to Jimmy.

“Yeah, at least we don’t see them for another week or so after training,”

“Yeah true…” he then added, “Hey nice shot on that Jerry trying to kill me.”

Jimmy patted his buddy on the shoulder and smiled at him. It was a silent ‘You’re welcome’ but Alsarge got the gist.          

“Balt and Monnaco I need you on point!” Jimmy yelled to the front of the line.

“Yes Leftenant McCoy!”

The march back to base was uneventful and short. The woods were empty except for the sound of squirrels and twittering birds. The march back always seemed quiet and always had a reflective mood in the air. For most it was the piles of dead they had seen, for others it had been the first man they had killed and for some it was the loss of their buddies that bothered them. At one point Jimmy had gone through all three and he was pretty sure almost all of his men had gone through one at some point.



“I am become death, shatterer of worlds” Julius Robert Oppenheimer

Channel Four news team

New York City, New York July 4th 2002

7:35 PM

“What a lovely evening it is for our nation’s birthday. The sun is out and shining, the birds are singing and it seems as if our ‘cold war’,” she made quotations with her fingers into the channel four news camera as she said cold war, “is over. Yesterday a groundbreaking agreement between U.S. president; Cedric Calhoun and Peter Stahls, the German chancellor, ended the German occupation of Britain. Germany has also promised future negotiations for the rest of the countries it occupies. Negotiations between the U.S. and the rest of Germany’s allies are still strained but the president and his diplomats are working hard on those. Now to the parade.” The camera shifted its view from the newscaster to the parade coming down Broadway.

“This is the fifty-fifth annual Battery Park parade,” says Kate Hawthorne, the news reporter.

An endless line of floats and fire trucks approached Battery Park in grand fashion. Confetti and music greeted their arrival and thousands of people lined either side of Broadway. Fifteen minutes later the sun had set and fireworks lit up the parade.

Suddenly the buildings around them shook and an explosion far louder than any firework sounded way off in the distance. The camera turned to Kate who already had her microphone up to her mouth to try and report what was going on. “Well what seems like an earthquake just hit.” She said looking slightly nervous.

“What’s that, look over there!” Someone in the crowd yelled pointing north. The camera turned north.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” screamed Kate. Between two buildings a large cloud of dust rose hundreds of feet in the air. Screams of terror and amazement went up from the crowd. “Oh my god!” is all Kate seemed to be able to say. Just then a high pitched screaming noise of Stuka Vier dive bombers was heard behind them. The camera turned just in time to see the statue of liberty crumble agonizingly slow to the ground.

Still holding the camera he grabbed Kate and ran the other way. “Get to Holland Tunnel everyone!” yelled a voice in the crowd, “We’ll be safe there!”

Suddenly a wave of heat and debris hit them with enough force to knock everyone to the ground. Momentarily in shock the cameraman searched for and found his camera.

“Tony, Tony!” yelled Kate to him. He pulled her up and grabbed her arm to start running. Large machine gun bullets from the incoming dive bombers plunged into the street all around them, ripping apart many New Yorkers in the crowd. Buildings around them exploded and glass flew everywhere.

They ran for about half a mile and then took a left onto Fulton Street. The Twin Towers loomed before them, somewhat heartening that they still stood. However, Tony was the last to capture the Twin Towers still standing because just then four Stuka dropped their payload into them.

Tony and Kate had to keep running as the towers stood for a second and then slowly fell apart. Kate again yelled, “Oh my God! This isn’t happening!”

Tony dragged her on and it took them another fifteen minutes to get to the Holland Tunnel. Thousands of people were trying to push and shove their way into the safety of the tunnel. It took them more than an hour to make their way in to the tunnel and find a spot.

  Finally inside the noise seemed far off and distant the Stukas made a low droning noise as they blew Manhattan to smithereens. After about an hour the bombing stopped and the only noise was that of people crying and screaming.

Tony still somehow had his camera.



“Tears are the silent language of grief” Francois Voltaire

Jimmy McCoy

Just outside CUV base camp, October 4th 2010

1:25 AM

Watch. Watch had to be the most boring, lonely experience ever. I would much rather be thrown into the most intense firefight then sit for three hours on Watch. The lonely hours went by slowly and you were only left to think about the things you had done in your past. It’s like staying up late at night, way past your bed time, except you aren’t trying to fall asleep because that would be disastrous. So awake, your mind wanders uncontrollably.

Usually faces of the ones I had killed would appear. Nameless faces of German soldiers completely unaware their life was about to come to a screeching halt. Usually I threw them to the back of my mind as quickly as possible to avoid being caught up in it.

Shaking myself I turned to look at my spotter to ask if he had seen anything. No. I looked back through my thermal imaging scope once again. An array of blues, greens and grays appeared but no bright colors which would indicate something alive. I switched to my night vision and the dark night was turned to a bright green. Seeing nothing again I clicked to normal scoping. I swept the scope across my cover area. About halfway through I saw a small flash of light.

A split second later there was a noise of a crumpling body behind me. I froze. With my scope on the spot I had thought I had seen the shot taken from I clicked from thermal, to night vision and again to normal but I could not see anything.

Not being able to move for fear of giving up my position I whispered to my spotter, “Scotty you okay?”

The response was a gurgling noise and I knew he wasn’t going to make it if I didn’t do something fast. I took aim at what I had thought was the sniper for it was where the shot had come from and fired. I waited only long enough to hear what sounded like glass shattering. I turned, put Scotty over my shoulder and took off towards base.

Knowing Scotty was in trouble I ignored the usual rules by running straight for base. At another point I would have backtracked, turned at random points marked different trees in case I was being followed. There was no time for that. It took me seven minutes to get back to base.

I ran through and dropped Scotty on a table in the ward and shook a doctor awake. “I-I oh, let me go back to sleep!” he said rolling over.

I ripped the mattress out from under him and screamed, “Wake up! We got a wounded!”

“Alright whatever!” he yelled grumpily. He took one look at Scotty, “He’s dead son. Sorry there’s nothing we can do.”

“What are you talking about he’s still breathing,” I barely got out above my tears that started flowing.

“The most I can do is give him some morphine to make it easier on him,” he turned towards his cabinet and pulled out a tube and a needle. Taking the liquid out of the tube and into the syringe he jabbed it into Scotty’s leg. A second later Scotty’s breathing slowed and his dark blue eyes stopped looking frantically about.

I sat on the chair next to his bed and talked to him quietly. I talked about a lot of things; a lot of about the happier times, times when German’s didn’t go around killing at will. A time when there were happy moments, playing tag with the neighbor kids, going to the movies with my first girl friend; what a scary experience that was. I talked about my family, our old house and my siblings. When I got to where my parents were killed I stopped though, not wanting to darken his last moments. However, when I looked down his eyes had lost their shine and his arms were hanging limp off the table.

I just sat there for awhile. It could have been hours, or it could have been five minutes I still don’t know to this very day. I don’t know why Scotty’s death hit me so hard. Later on it was calculated that for every day the Germans were on American soil an average of 5,000 citizens died by their hand. It was the accumulation of all the death that hit me. My family’s death had been tough but it seemed to just smack me in the face right there and then.

I let tears held in for years flow; a sobbing held in by the expectations of being a man came out. I cried more when I thought that I shouldn’t be crying. When I tried to stop I shook uncontrollably and cried more. It was a necessary cry, probably the only thing that kept me alive; the tears soaked up all the sadness and pain and then it flowed out of me taking the bad emotions with it.

I wiped my eyes when I was done but I knew they were red so I avoided contact with anyone. It was daylight when I came out of the tent and sometime in the night, without me knowing, they must have taken Scotty’s body because it wasn’t there anymore. I fell asleep right when I hit my cot.









“So long as men worship dictators; Caesars and Napoleons will arise to make them miserable” Aldous Huxley

Sam Witherbee

Holly, Michigan February 5th 1995

9:15 AM

Sitting at the table, Sam, an older man drinking his morning coffee on his way to work opened up the USA Today to the International section. Flipping through articles about the squabbles of South America and the “Peaceful” annexation of Australia by Japan his eyes fell upon a short article about a recent development of the German’s cloning technology:

Berlin, Germany-

American reporter Tiffany Groves was shown evidence of a new technique the Germans are using to clone human beings. The technique (which was not explained in detail) allows embryos to mature into adults much faster. The discovery, made by German scientist Wilhelm Martin, was first tested on embryos three days ago and the infants are already to the maturity level of a sixth month year old child. Sick and aging Third Reich leader; Adolf Hitler, called for a national holiday and promoted Doctor Martin to head of the scientific research facility based in what used to be Geneva, Switzerland. Ex-head of scientific research; Rudolph Heikemahn has apparently gone missing.

Joseph Fithe

“You hear about that Bonnie? The German’s can make their people even faster now,” Sam said to his waitress/long time friend.

“Yeah I guess that’s what happens when you control half the world; you got nothing else to worry about,” she said matter-of-factly as she retied her loose apron.

“Well India’s our only hope on that side of the world. Then they’ll be coming for us.” Sam said with a sort of whisper.

“CNN, the world’s leader on breaking news”

A reporter behind a desk with a serious look on his face announced that India was being attacked.

“Now let’s go to Felicia Alge who is reporting live in Kashmir, India.”

She stared blankly at the camera, a delay evident and then went on to say, “Thank you George. Just this morning the people of India were horrified to wake up to the sound of gunfire and bombs as their whole western border with Germany erupted in warfare. German paratroop raids encircled and cut off many Indian strongholds. As you can see behind me all the Indian reserves are being marched to the front to try and stave off the German invasion. So far an untold amount of casualties have been inflicted by both sides but the far superior numbers of the Germans are taking their toll on the Indian numbers and their morale.”

“Would a U.S. intervention help if it was passed?” asked the reporter behind the desk.

“Well George,” again reporting after the delay, “any U.S. intervention would most likely end up arriving too late. And Washington is weary to repeat what happened in 88’. However I must get going because as you can tell by the artillery and close small arms fire in the city, the Germans are closing in.”

“Thank you, Felicia.” Said George and he turned in his chair to face the camera again. He said something about German embryo enhancement.

Jimmy McCoy

Last night’s sniping position, October 4th 2010

7:35 PM

Glass shards littered the base of a very tall oak tree. Jimmy’s first instinct was that he had shot through the sniper’s scope last night. He was beginning to doubt this. Shards more than three inches long were spread out around the tree. A scope was not even and inch in diameter but what was a mirror doing out here?

There was soon no doubt it was a mirror. The shards were reflective and Jimmy could see his own gaunt face, deep blue eyes and curly blond hair. Luckily he had shaved last night and would not have to look at himself unshaven.

Noticing something out of place near by the glass Jimmy kneeled down to investigate the source of his suspicion. The end of a rope of medium thickness lay tied around what used to be the stand of the mirror. Motioning for his new spotter; Matt Hooten, a 17 year-old kid from Indiana, to hold that end of the rope, he walked along letting the rope slide through his hands.

Jimmy followed it for about thirty feet, when it came to an abrupt stop in a bush. To a normal person the subtle signs of activity would not have been noticed. The impressions in the earth indicated that the sniper was of average 5,11’ height, lightweight and wrapped in ghillie.

“Matt, come here,” Jimmy pointed at the bush, “quick quiz: Who was here?”

“Well sir, by the looks of it he was about 5,11’ and going pretty lightweight,” he kneeled down to examine closer, “ and by these holes made by his bipod it looks as if he was using a Blaser R-93 Tactical. Pretty lightweight rifle and these holes barely go into the ground.”

“Yeah I was thinking along those lines too.” Jimmy said while making a somewhat pouty face. Lucky Matt wasn’t looking.

“Sir take a look at this,” he pulled a piece of fabric from a nearby tree branch, “That’s why you couldn’t see him in thermal last night; an ATI suit or Anti Thermal Imaging suit. Pretty solid stuff,” he said pocketing the fabric. They both kept searching the area by gently brushing aside nature. “Sir this dirt here isn’t from here. It looks like dirt from by the riverbed.” In his hands a light grey powder was kicked up by the slight wind that was blowing.

“Alright, we are moving out in five. Southeast towards the river.” The sun was just starting to set and the first lines of pink appeared. “I wanna hit the river when it gets dark, so get prepared for night movement,”

“Sir, yes sir,” he sat down to prepare his rifle, a fifteen year-old M-21. His spotter’s gun paled in comparison to Jimmy’s own; a M-24 A3 Remington bolt action sniper rifle. He had custom fitted a suppressor to his and added a lot of additional features throughout his two years of owning the rifle. Each man had a Berretta pistol on them. Matt also carried the ‘Bigboy’ on his back.

A black .50 caliber sniper rifle, armed with twenty one armor piercing, magnesium sable rounds. A shot from 2,000 yards could put a hole through tank armor. A few months ago Jimmy had disabled a tank and two trucks, covering the retreat of his division.

Armed as such they moved out five minutes later. To an enemy soldier it would have looked like two bushes moving slowly through the forest.

Jimmy questioned his new spotter, first about purely military things but he was soon asking him about his old life.

“Why’d you come here? Isn’t Indiana still free?”

“No it was pretty much overrun in May of last year. Whatever is left of the rebellion in the north is reduced to squabbling and a very unsuccessful army. I was in the army two days and I swear we lost three or four battles.” He said leading the way through the thick forest. “I swear to god they are the stupidest people I have met in my lifetime; frontal assaults and terrible defensive positions when your outnumbered a couple hundred to one?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve learned.”

“So, what about you? Where you from?” Matt asked over his shoulder.

Jimmy looked Matt over for a minute before answering, “Watch where you’re going.”

“Ahh, c’mon sir. I thought we were friends by now.”

“More of acquaintances I figure.” Their chitchat continued for a few more minutes when Jimmy said shut-up and they continued on at a much slower pace than before. By the time they heard the flow of the river it was dark out. Jimmy took the lead and they belly crawled the rest of the way.

The edge of the tree line opened up to a long, empty expanse before it came to the river. The approach to the river was over smooth bone white rock that shown bright even in the dark. One small foot bridge bisected the wide expanse of the river. The bridge’s planks were more than an inch underwater and the strong current looked as it would pull the bridge free at any second. Across the turbulent waters of the river lay another expanse of shock-white rock and then the thick forest started once again.

Easily seen at the edge of the trees was the front of a German half-track and one or two new era panzer tanks. The smoke plume of a small fire could be seen rising lazily up from the trees and about a dozen shadows played off the trees around the fire. There were four spots for possible sentry areas and two great sniper positions on the other side of the river. Jimmy looked to his right and left and saw a spot where a tree had fallen over another; one good sniping spot.

“Wind; south, southwest. It’s the same altitude here as on the other side of the river. And it’s about one hundred and twenty yards from here to the halftrack.” Matt said as he studied his notebook.

“Alright I want you to take the 50 cal to that fallen tree to our right.”Jimmy whispered the commands to Matt. “If you set up in the nook there I don’t think anyone will be able to see you. Keep your ghillie hood up though.”Jimmy said as he pulled the hood over Matt’s head. “Now I’m going to be down to out left, there’s an enemy sniper in that large oak tree up there. When I take my shot the Germans are gonna jump in their panzers. Use the 50 cal and disable the one in front. That will give us some more time to cause some chaos.” The sun had finally finished setting and even in the darkness Jimmy could tell Matt was scared, scared out of his mind. “You’ll do fine. You ready?”

“Yes sir.”

And with that both men were off to their separate locations.

~

Michael Barron enjoyed his work in America. His cloning and conditioning made him hate all of the non-Aryans and gave him an extreme anti-Semitism. Killing was easy for him and he never regretted it. The normal emotions of soldiers didn’t effect this almost super soldier. However the limits and temptations of man did.

He sat in sniper post so tired he almost drifted off two or three times. He was also scared; after proving his accuracy to be one of the best the gigantic German army had to offer he had been sent to deal with the snipers of the rebellious Americans. After sitting for more than two days to take out one he had only killed his spotter. Luckily Michael’s mirror trick had worked and the enemy couldn’t tell where he had shot from.

From that moment on he had feared redemption. Tonight he used live bait instead of a mirror. A less adequate sniper sat in the same tree as him but only ten feet higher. The sacrifice for the Motherland he thought to himself.

A number of the men sent to protect him were drinking and singing at a bonfire below him. Four or five of them had passed out below him and the rest were at the brink of joining their comrades. Shaking his head he scanned the area in front of him and seeing nothing closed his eyes for a quick nap. A half-second later he heard a twig snap above him. He opened his eyes to come face to face with what used to be the other snipers head.

As standard procedure the sniper had tied a rope to himself so he wouldn’t fall out of the tree. Now his mangled head hung just in front of Michael. After the initial shock a wave of fear rolled through Michael’s body. He screamed down to his men below but the one or two conscious Germans fell over trying to get to the tanks.

Knowing there was nowhere he could go fast he cut the rope to get a clear view of the river. Small arms fire from the sentries below him started to pockmark trees and rocks across the river. A shot louder than the rest emitted from the other bank and one of the tanks was punctured with a golf ball sized hole. Following the flash with his scope, Michael lined up the crosshairs to the lump, conveniently tucked between two fallen trees, that gave away the snipers head.

As procedure told him, he scanned the opposite once again to make sure the shot was clear. Another 50 cal round was emitted and the turret of the tank’s 88 caliber exploded with a loud metal snap. Ignoring the noise Michael lined up his crosshairs with the lump and lightly depressed the trigger of his rifle.

The tree behind Michael exploded into a flurry of woodchips and bent bark.

~

“There is no one like you, O lord and no God but you,”

A click told Jimmy another round was loaded into his chamber. Another large boom from Matt seemed to blow the driver’s seat of the halftrack to smithereens as an enemy sentry tried to jump in the front seat.

Small arms fire continued to pepper the bank but none came near to hitting Jimmy. German yells gave away a small contingent of six Germans coming around the right of the fire. They were about even with Jimmy across the river. They were booking it for the bridge, running parallel to the river and perpendicular to Jimmy. Following the lead with his crosshairs he pulled the trigger and the man was knocked over sideways.

“God you are my shield and my sanctuary.”

An empty shell came out as another full shell replaced it. Being a man down the Germans picked up the pace. Another one seemed to stop in his tracks as the bullet hit him. At almost the same time another boom came from farther down the bank and the two Germans in front were killed instantly as a 50 cal round went through both. Another boom and one of the two remaining Germans head was lifted cleanly off. The third boom hit the rock behind the last German sending shards ten feet into the air.

The man turned and ran the other way toward the forest. Close enough to the bushes on the other side he attempted a dive. He actually completed a whole flip when Jimmy’s bullet hit the back of his head.

“God forgive me for I have sinned and please continue to forgive as I must continue to sin.”

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and moved back toward Matt’s position.

Acht division headquarters 10 miles west of the river, October 4th 2010

9:31 PM

The German radio operator lazily tuned into the channel of the outpost to their west to check up on them. All he received was the sound of small arms fire and a faint crackle of a bonfire. He printed off the coordinates and got up. He walked through the small corridors of the old American post office to where the General was situated. The general’s aide saluted the operator and the operator gave the papers to the aide.

The aide then turned and opened the door to his superior’s office and handed the papers to the General who was looking at a map of the surrounding area intently. He never looked at the aide as he took the papers and studied them. After two minutes he ordered the eighth divisions FRC or Fast Reaction Company to the area. Those snipers they had been using had been so cocky before and now they were getting walloped at the river.

The General’s FRC would be put to use for the first time in an actual fight and he was looking forward to it. Set up at the same time as the snipers to counteract the enemy rebel snipers, the FRC could react in minutes to guerilla attacks. It was a quick strike force of fifty men that rode on ATVs and other small, fast vehicles to get to the firefight.

They also deployed a numerous amount of maneuverable and equally deadly weapons. They had a squad that carried a small caliber mortar. They had two snipers of their own and two more 30 caliber machine guns. But most importantly they were all trained in the deadly art of woodland and counter-guerilla warfare.

He gave the orders to his aides who in turn passed them along. To the company commander, the revving of ATVs and small land rovers could be heard outside in the motor pool. The rest of the division was ordered to get ready to move. More than two thousand men were about to descend on whatever was creating the chaos at the river.

~

Back at CUV base camp Jimmy and Matt sprinted all the way into the chief’s tent. Finally stopping and flicking up a hasty salute to the chief who was seated at a folding table. A large map and a coffee sat on the table. Radios and an even larger map, with colored pins stuck in it, lined the far wall. The chief looked up and then looked back down at his map.

“Leftenant McCoy, Private Hooten. At ease.”

The two soldiers dropped their salute, “Sir, we just got back from the river and we killed the sniper who killed Scotty. The mission is complete.” Jimmy said to the chief again saluting.

He turned to leave when Matt spoke a bit timidly, “Sir just to let you know there are two German tanks and a halftrack at the river that could easily be fixed and used by us.”

“Good that’s great.” He turned towards his aide who was manning one of the radios. “Get the Riflers and the Fishes ready. This will be a good training exercise for the new Fishes.” The operator nodded his head and picked up a phone.

“Sir, with all due respect, by the time they get there the Germans will have a considerable amount of reinforcements. At least send my division; I know the area and will be able to judge if we need to bug out.” Jimmy pleaded

“No, I think the Fishes need the training and the Riflers don’t get much action.”

“Sir-“

“You are way out of line soldier. You are dismissed!” He turned to Matt, “Good work soldier and you are dismissed also.”

Jimmy went back to his barracks, which was empty as usual at the time. One of the newer soldiers was a rather good comedian and had a large crowd in the large auditorium like fallout shelter. Jimmy laid down on his bed by the door to catch some sleep.

Right when he had finally zoned out he was awaken by the gung-ho singing of the Riflers and the nervous chitchat of the Fishes. 150 CUV soldiers walked by Jimmy’s bed, a large operation by CUV standards.

After they passed Jimmy went and got the radio from his radioman’s pack and tuned the rusty knob on the top to the channel of current, ongoing operations. He tuned in, in time for the check in.

“Super six one, this is Wolverine 20,” said the slightly nervous voice of the fish operator.

“Copy that Wolverine 20,”

“61 this is Spartan 33 and the just to let you know, the Riflers are ready for some action. Hoo ah!”

“33 please save the line for things related to your operation.”

“Copy that 61.”

“Wolverine 20 this is 33, I’m gonna need you to spread out and to pick up your pace because you are too close to us.”

“Copy that 33.”

For a while all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of the Fish radioman. At point Jimmy was pretty sure he tripped when he emitted a grunt and a twig snapped. “You ok 20?” Asked command.

“Yes sir.”

“This is 33, we are coming up on the river. 20 I’m going to need you to bring up the barges.”

“Copy that 33. They’re being brought up now.”

A few minutes later the sound of boots marching on wood could be heard through the Fish radio. “33, you sure this is gonna hold a tank?”

“Yeah 10 tons or less.”

“Alright coolio.”

There was a short pause, “20, did you just say coolio?”

“33 this is six one, we have reports of enemy movement to your west. I would advise you to move out as quickly as possible.”

“Copy that six one.” Then through the Fish’s radio he heard, “Alright guys double time let’s get these tanks outta here.”

For more than five minutes no sound came from the radios. Then suddenly an explosion rocked the airwaves between radios



Excerpt from the 2023 book America and Germany: the tale of one superpower

Chapter 23

The Saudi Arabian conflict

The battle for Saudi Arabia was the shortest war ever fought by America. It was also the most one sided affair between Germany and America ever fought. Belize put up a longer fight when Mexico, Japan, Argentina and Germany invaded. It was a show of German strength and military brilliance and much Saudi cowardice.

When America sent two hundred thousand soldiers to Saudi Arabia they were never expecting to have to fight. They expected that Germany would not want to start a fight after supposedly taking heavy losses in the takeover of South Africa. To America’s horror; two million German soldiers seemingly appeared within twenty yards from the American lines.

© Copyright 2008 pip (hawk12 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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