Land of Flatwater: Protect and Survive Middle America

[NoOneFamous]

Who is the Peace Lady?

[Lord Grattan]

Originally Posted by Archangel

I hope Clayton catches Tyles soon. He might create an epidemic on an already fragile nation.

The former president in Georgia is likely Carter, who could be used by the re-forming federal government as a spokesperson, since he strikes me as the kind of person that inspires optimism.

Keep it up, Chip!

A foreboding update Chip; yet one filled w/a glimmer of hope for the future. I agree with Archangel about Tyles and hope he goes down swiftly and convincingly.

[modelcitizen]

Originally Posted by NoOneFamous

Who is the Peace Lady?

pre-war.

leader of anti-war protest.

at first, she wasn't inclined to stick around for what would remain after ww3, but, as you can tell, she changed her mind.

[modelcitizen]

Originally Posted by NoOneFamous

Who is the Peace Lady?

Carolina Welch

http://www.alternatehistory.com/disc...ch#post5104978

[Chipperback]

It began for some at first light of Saturday March 31, 1984

It began with plows hitched to horses.

Throughout nearly every patch of farmland in the state of Nebraska, it began.

The clumps of dirt piling, mixed in with the ash and embers of an age past.

Faint voices mixed in the winds. Faint voices of what was.

I hope you understand....
Omaha will burn with them

Well I wouldn't trade my life for diamonds or jewels
I never was one of them money hungry fools
I'd rather have my fiddle and my farmin' tools
Thank God I'm a country boy

Farming had returned to Nebraska, the old fashioned way. Back when the land was young. Back when the land was raw, untamed.

Those days returned in the hard times after the events of February 21st. Sweat, iron and elbow grease would have to til the land. Thousands of the displaced, the damned the dispirited were off to fight the latest day-to-day battle for survival.

In the sweat of thy face thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return. -- Genesis 3:19

"I went to my farm near Doniphan, and saw my family, my relatives. Many refugee were brought into help. There was so much to do. Debris, weeds, uncertainty. For the first few minutes, I could do nothing more than weep. There wasn't many days that I did weep in those early weeks. I could irrigate the land with those tears. If it was only that simple.
I needed to be there and weep. That wailing steeled me for what was the come. The decision that needed to be made. I never really understood what all the charts and graphs truly meant until I came above ground again.

Whoever said the living shall envy the dead was a little wrong. You were too numb to envy the dead. There was too much death to envy." -- Steven Newell, Nebraska Emergency Agriculture Executive. Quoted in the book Song Of The First Harvest by Roger Welsch (University of Nebraska Press, 2007)

A farm north of North Platte, Nebraska...4:00pm Central Standard Time...March 31, 1984

2nd Lieutenant Donald Kingsley, 71st Infantry Regiment, New York National Guard. New York City, New York
2nd Lieutenant Carlo Magglione, 71st Infantry Regiment, New York National Guard. New York City, New York.

REASSIGNED: 1st Western Nebraska Militia/Nebraska Combined Forces.

New York is where I'd rather stay.
I get allergic smelling hay.
I just adore a penthouse view
Darling I love you, but give me Park Avenue.

Its safe to say that Donald Kingsley and Carlo Magglione have never been on a farm. Neither of them had been west of the Mississippi River in their lives.

Both grew up in America's flagship city, New York.
Fate and war brought them to Nebraska. As 2nd lieutenants in the New York National Guard, they were a part of an emergency rotation for all the second lieutenants in guard units nationwide. A crash program to get the 2 LTs through the Infantry Officer Basic Course (IOBC) in event they would be needed to fill slots in a protracted war or intensified action with their local guard units.

Kingsley and Magglione were deployed to Fort Riley, Kansas along with a few thousand others. They were redeployed to the Nebraska National Guard the next day.

Two days after they got to Kansas, Soviet forces invaded in Eastern Europe.

Kingsley and Magglione we reassigned again to firm up a newly built company of national guard troops from Scottsbluff and Gering in the panhandle who were evacuated to McCook, Nebraska.

One week after the bombs fell, they were strengthening a number of brigades in North Platte.

"What the hell is your problem soldier boy!" The older woman said. "You gotta pinch that thing! She ain't gonna bite ya!"

Magglione gingerly tried to grab the tipped nipples of the cow. "I've heard that there are special underground areas for milking these....cows....Why are we doing it. The milk isn't any good anyway."

"Geezus boy, we need milk, and we could boil it...Besides, what bombs flew in here?"

"SARAAAAAAH!" The older woman yelped.

Sarah Monstrom. 26-years old. Pale skinned, bookish ran the farm with her mom here. It was more of a ranch than a farm really. It was most alfalfa, soy and dairy cows. She was outside bailing hay, as see look along at family and refugees tending to fields that would hopefully yield soybeans in a few months.

Sarah looked down at her best friend. She was tending the fields..

And then her eyes spotted...Him.

He was rugged as he took a hoe to the soil. He was young looking man, perhaps 30 at most. Even through the ordeal he had lived, he was still rather handsome. Rough-hewn, but handsome.

He looked up and noticed the girl outside the barn on a platform. Even from a distance he noticed her form. Simple, feminine but pleasing.

"Prekrassnyi" He thinks as he looked in the distance.

His thought turn sour in the later-day haze. Sun trying to break through with yellow and orange lights through whitish-gray clouds. He thought turn to a place faraway. To a home perhaps lost. To a family perhaps gone.

He stops for an instant. The reality beyond the fields and the daydream paralyze him.

Only for the moment. He received a nudge.

"Keep on task, Comrade," the other man said.

"Sorry, sir...I was thinking of Orel."

"We can't think of that now..." the other man said. His mind also thinking of a home, very similar to where he stands now.

Sarah returned to the barn, where she saw a few well-armed men struggling with milking a cow.

She shook her head and giggled as she headed toward both Magglione and Kingsley.

"You have to grab and message that to get the milk out," She said softly.

Magglione heard the voice, but felt the face didn't quite match the soft sweetness he was hearing.

"This wasn't the massaging I had in mind," Magglione said. "Why are we here anyway, shouldn't we be out in the field."

"You'd be just as lost in the field as you are here," Kingsley said.

"I don't see ya bucket full of Jersey Dairy Farms either, buddy."

Just down the row a few other troopers were having more success.

"Ma'am" one of them drawled. "Go easy on them two boys. They aren't exactly from here."

One of the help carried away the full bucket as he went over to help Magglione.

"That's the problem," he said as Magglione tugged on one tip in bruising fashion. "You are hurting that cow, buddy roe. Be gentle. They're really no different that any woman when you think about it."

Kingsley chuckled as his fellow New York blanched at the very comparison. "Damn! It's true what they say about you farmer boys."

The Nebraskan replied smartly. "No son, never with cows. Only sheep."

The old woman rolled her eyes, "You are all going to hell."

The next stall over, another voice called out, "Don't take it hard fellas. Welcome to Green Acres, baby."

Magglione turned around to see a smiling fellow troop looking from around the stall. He was in fatigues with blue shields on the shoulders. Within the shields looked to be a face that was vaguely familiar, IF you paid attention in a history class.

"Based on that accent, you two aren't locals."

Magglione smirked and return to favor. "By the look of things, you aren't a local, either. You went through Fort Riley, too huh?"

"Affirmative," the second lieutenant said. "Ran into some Jayhawker with a real sour attitude towards anybody in the American League West."

Kingsley laughed, "You mean anybody in the American League. Did you run into a Staff Sargeant who prays to George Brett at night?"

"Yep, that would be him."

"Well he didn't take to me too much, so he shipped us out to west bumfuck."

"I could see and hear why, man," the other troops said. "I can understand why he'd hate you. I hate the New York Yankees as much as anybody. You know how some of you New Yorkers act."

"Us New Yorkers are the prime city in America pal...Biggest city, best night life...Best pizza."

"Best pizza my ass! That's my town, man!"

Carlo looked at him, "Second City, huh."

"Chicago born and bred," the second lieutenant said proudly.

The troop then looked down at floor. He frowned.

"Listen to us," He said sadly. "Arguing over cities blown off the damn map."

"At least we weren't there," Kingsley said.

"We weren't there, but a lot of people we care about were. Wives, girlfriends.."

"Boulanger."

The Chicago 2 LT joined in. "I think I have somebody left out there. My brother. He's in the military. In fact, he was stationed somewhere around here."

"Here?" Kingsley asked. "There's not much Army here."

"He wasn't Army, New Yawk. He was Navy, but he was doing something at some Air Force base outside of Omaha."

"Omaha? What could be that important there?"

"He couldn't talk much about it, troop. That's how big it was. He said it had to do with the nukes. I last talked to him maybe a day before it all went to hell. He said he was being transferred away from there."

"My big brother fought in Vietnam. Said it was roughest thing he ever saw in his life. I wonder how he feels about that now?"

State Highway 18 near Custer, South Dakota -- Midnight Mountain Daylight Time -- Sunday April 1, 1984.

The convoy of trucks made their way through the night. Winding through the twisting roads.

He was at the at the wheel of the lead truck. "I'd say were still around 8-10 hours away," he thought.

Just ahead...Two flaming torches and men wearing respirator masks...and what looked like U.S. Park Ranger uniforms..

One of the men held his hand forward motioning the truck to stop. The whole line stops at what looks to be a checkpoint.

"All trucks stop," the man said into the CB radio.

Two with flashlight converge on the driver side of the cab of the lead trucks.


"Good morning," one of the troops said. "Welcome to the Free Territory of Lakota."

"Free Territory?" the driver asked.

"That's correct. This stretch of Highway 18 is under our control. This is a toll road. The price for passage is half your food and looks like you are carrying weapons, so we will ask for half of those as well."

The driver press the talk button on his CB. "Rapier" he said calmly.

In the first two following trucks, several snicks radiated around the trailer. Weapons were being readied.

The driver got a good look at the man he was speaking to. He didn't look Indian.

"Hey, buddy.." the driver said. "AYAK?"

The troop let the request register...and then spoke into his radio. "All units surround.."

The driver was dismayed. "What is this all about?"

The troops spoke tersely. "You will follow us to our staging point..Do not attempt to run or deviate. If you attempt to do so, take a look at that treeline over there."

The driver looked at the darkened forest running parallel to their route.

"I have armed my Lakota brothers with RPGs and will give an order to fire."

A pair of reservation police cars led the convoy through the checkpoint an toward a staging area 4 miles away.

The troop in the passenger seat of the lead cab had a 9mm loaded and began assembling the AK-47 under his seat. "Pink bastards are the worst," the driver mumbled. "I'll make that race traitor pay for this."



to be continued.

[BrianD]

As I said on the other thread, Chip, good work as always.

Steven Newell is Nebraska Emergency Agriculture Executive as of 2007?

[Chipperback]

Newell was quoted in the book and identified by the position he held during the emergency.

The State of Emergency didn't last until 2007..

[Orville_third]

Nice bits integrating various stories...and, alas, I get the reference. Good thing the Lakota did too...though it may get nasty.

One quibble...isn't it a "penthouse view"?
(Wonder how Eddie Albert is doing. I remember him doing FFA ads in the 80's. He was also a Marine at Tarawa.)

[Archangel]

Good update, Chip!

[Lord Grattan]

Originally Posted by Orville_third

Nice bits integrating various stories...and, alas, I get the reference. Good thing the Lakota did too...though it may get nasty.

I agree - nice work integrating the various stories into one "global" view. Also, unlike Orville, I did not get your reference; I presume that AYK doesn't mean apply your knowledge or as you know - correct?

[Chipperback]

AYAK is a call sign/question to indentify fellow members of the Klu Klux Klan in a situation where discretion is important.

AYAK --- Are You A Klansman?

The response is AKIA -- A Klansman I Am.

The guard at the checkpoint knew the question and immediately sought to detain the convoy.

Remember, these were people who saw some of their own incinerated by a group of similar ilk just before the WWIII went thermonuclear on a road outside of Chadron, Nebraska. In post-war period the surviving residents of the reservation and refugees from Rapid City, South Dakota, formed a mutual defense zone with the FEMA-NCF detachment at Chadron, one of the few areas in Western Nebraska that isn't considered an exclusion zone.

[Chipperback]

Flatwater Forever: The Official Podcast of Land Of Flatwater. My first attempt at a podcast...Featuring Interviews, a dramatic reading, and the author singing making his Finnish rock debut

[Chipperback]

Omaha-World Herald headline December 29, 1983
(courtesy of the University of Nebraska 21 February Project)

[Chipperback]

Tom Osborne addressing Hastings Emergency Council. February 20, 1984.

"Much of what got done in Hastings, and in many ways the state, was because of Coach Osborne's example and effort. He was the calming influence between factions. That steady stream against all the torrents. Whenever someone wanted to cross a line that shouldn't be crossed, Tom was there to set things straight. There were a lot of decisions we weren't proud of. Many Faustian compromises we had to make to survive. Some of them were right, many of them were wrong. Often times the thing that saved us from decision we would regret to our graves was Tom Osborne being a nagging but needed conscience." -- Dr. Don Benning, NCEG Communications and Education Executive, quoted in More Than Winning: How Tom Osborne Coached A State by Professor Cao Vieh McGonigal (University of Nebraska Press, 2004)

[Falkenburg]

Just listening to the Podcast now. Sterling work, Chip.

Falkenburg

[RadioSilence]

Wow, this and the P&S series of TLs are really well-conceived. When they;re all finished someone should compile them into a book.

Good job on the podcast. Did you make it all yourself?

[Son of Sphinks]

Continued awesome work Chip. The podcast hit the feeling you've created here on the head. You have also made if so that to get the full story of all that is going on, you'll have to follow both LoFW and D&C.

As for what is happening in the Land of Oz, (or Land of Ahs as the state tourism board called it at the time), you have illuded to the fact that Dole road things out in Russel. I have wondered whether Governor Carlin would have road things out in the Salt mines near Hutchinson as was the plan or if he would have relocated State offices to a secure facility like Larned State Hospital or the campus of Dodge City Community College further from possible fallout sites in the east.

As a poor Wildcat in the land of Chickenhawks, I can hope but also doubt that Manhattan made it. The agricultural brain power there would be important to helping the state recover.

Any additions for those on the Southern boarder of the LoFW, I would be happy to add my view.

Again, epic work.

[stirlingdraka]

Now the the original inspiration for this P&S is over I would like to comment that this is a great work Chip. Will listen to the podcast when I have sound again.

[arrowiv]

What about Fred Phelps and his clan in Topeka, Kansas in this TL?

[John Farson]

Originally Posted by arrowiv

What about Fred Phelps and his clan in Topeka, Kansas in this TL?

"America is a fag-loving nation! America was nuked because of fags! Everyone's in hell!"

I'd like to see them try picket mass burials in TTL. Methinks they wouldn't be able to get away with threatening lawsuits.