Cool, the Red Sox will still have someplace to do their spring training!
Protect & Survive Miami: End of Watch
- Thread starter wolverinethad
- Start date
Cool, the Red Sox will still have someplace to do their spring training!
More likely what happens after the exchange and this is unfortunate all the professional sports leagues (Including Major League Baseball) end up effectively ceasing operations considering the complete destruction of the cities regardless if the teams remain intact and their respective players have managed to survive. And for any professional sports to ever get played again if ever would likely require for people to completely start over from scratch (After several years do pass).
Hi guys.
I sincerely apologize for the lack of update. I've been managing two major projects at work, one of which is completed, and I've been logging a lot of overtime. Suffice to say, it's hard to creatively write when that busy (and that's not even including Christmas stuff). I cannot promise anything until after Christmas Day, however, if all goes well, I'll be writing a couple of chapters during that time.
If all goes really well (don't hold thine breath) I'll get the next one up this week.
Finally, to address @Fred the Great's points here, the prisoners were heavily shackled, which makes the cleanup messier than the execution, since their ability to struggle would be rather constrained by their inability to move. The riflemen fired in volley, essentially, so you'd have six go down at a time, aimed shots all. A full-blown firing squad would be ridiculous, and create a mess that was not wanted. The warden wanted things quick and clean, and had planned for the event, since WILLY LOMAN was first briefed to him. It does drive home a point to the rest: don't cooperate and you'll be next.
I am surprised, by the way, that there was no comment on the choice of op plan name.
I sincerely apologize for the lack of update. I've been managing two major projects at work, one of which is completed, and I've been logging a lot of overtime. Suffice to say, it's hard to creatively write when that busy (and that's not even including Christmas stuff). I cannot promise anything until after Christmas Day, however, if all goes well, I'll be writing a couple of chapters during that time.
If all goes really well (don't hold thine breath) I'll get the next one up this week.
Finally, to address @Fred the Great's points here, the prisoners were heavily shackled, which makes the cleanup messier than the execution, since their ability to struggle would be rather constrained by their inability to move. The riflemen fired in volley, essentially, so you'd have six go down at a time, aimed shots all. A full-blown firing squad would be ridiculous, and create a mess that was not wanted. The warden wanted things quick and clean, and had planned for the event, since WILLY LOMAN was first briefed to him. It does drive home a point to the rest: don't cooperate and you'll be next.
I am surprised, by the way, that there was no comment on the choice of op plan name.
It could be a deliberate attempt to not raise suspicions if there was a leak.
Don't worry about it, wolverinethad; we all get busy...
As for WILLY LOMAN, I know that's the name of the main character in Death of a Salesman (and he dies--spoiler alert (1)), but I'm baffled if I can come up with a connection, wolverinethad. Is it representing the death of the
(1) Of course, anyone who knows the play knows this is what happens to Loman...
Edit: Your theory might be true, @Archangel...
As for WILLY LOMAN, I know that's the name of the main character in Death of a Salesman (and he dies--spoiler alert (1)), but I'm baffled if I can come up with a connection, wolverinethad. Is it representing the death of the
(1) Of course, anyone who knows the play knows this is what happens to Loman...
Edit: Your theory might be true, @Archangel...
As I said, I can't find a connection, but I did recognize the reference to Death of a Salesman. The best I can come up with is:
After Willy dies, his wife pays off the mortgage, and says "We're free and clear... We're free..." In a sense, Florida is "free and clear" with respect to the death row inmates as they won't have to worry about them anymore...
Artaxerxes
Banned
You Americans, the whole point of a code name is that you can’t figure out what it’s disguising.
‘Operation Let’s Invade France’ taught the Brits that a long time ago.
‘Operation Let’s Invade France’ taught the Brits that a long time ago.
James G
Gone Fishin'
The United States DOD used to do that with military ops. However, it was either with the name for the missions in Grenada or Panama in the 80s - I can't recall which - when a rather silly name was randomly generated that they gave that up. The War on Terror had an undiplomatic nickname that was cancelled over Saudi objections too.
Corporate and Granby just don't sound as good for the public sell as Desert Shield / Storm and Enduring Freedom.
TWoT was originally called Enduring Justice. The Saudis objected saying that only Allah/God can deliver enduring justice.
Churchill did also ask commanders to consider names. He didn't want to have letters written to relatives telling them their husband/son/brother had died in Operation Dewdrop or something similar.
OTOH German codenames gave the Allies a lot of very useful information. That was why the UK adopted the colour codenames for military equipment post-war.
Churchill did also ask commanders to consider names. He didn't want to have letters written to relatives telling them their husband/son/brother had died in Operation Dewdrop or something similar.
OTOH German codenames gave the Allies a lot of very useful information. That was why the UK adopted the colour codenames for military equipment post-war.
So, WILLY LOMAN is, to my way of thinking, hiding in plain sight. It easily could apply to a rescue of Arthur Miller, for instance, or Dustin Hoffman, who'd started filming Death of a Salesman at that time. Someone would have to reach deeply to think that WILLY LOMAN meant "execute all death row inmates."
I wanted it to be a connection the reader could grasp without being overly obvious to someone inside the story.
That all being said, terribly sorry I didn't get anything written over holiday. I got sick, recovered in time for Christmas Eve, but my wife stayed sick up until the New Year, so that hampered my efforts to get much done. I will be writing a new chapter soon, I promise.
I wanted it to be a connection the reader could grasp without being overly obvious to someone inside the story.
That all being said, terribly sorry I didn't get anything written over holiday. I got sick, recovered in time for Christmas Eve, but my wife stayed sick up until the New Year, so that hampered my efforts to get much done. I will be writing a new chapter soon, I promise.
Family and health comes first, looking forward to the new chapter!
I didn't boggle at the code name. I boggled at the nature of the sort of society the operation implied. Of course, Death Row inmates probably are very bad people, very dangerous to have running around loose, not cost-effective for a struggling society which, if it is to turn out at all humane and reasonable in the long run, must rely heavily on trust.
I emphasize "probably" because it is well known that a certain number of convictions, even in execution cases, are mishandled and in some cases even involve malicious fraud on the part of the authorities--if anyone wants to fight about this, I won't, just refer us all to site member Jonathan Edelstein who in the past few years freed a man put away for decades on the basis of proof that his prosecutor was guilty of corrupt and presumptively malicious misidentification of a suspect who could prove the impossibility of committing the crime. It happens, we can argue about how often, but I think it is clear that a jurisdiction that is prone to condemning people to death at higher rates than average is one that has a low regard for the rights of suspects across the board and I would expect a higher rate of false convictions there, despite judicially mandated recourses offered to those facing a death sentence. Authorities in such jurisdictions have a tendency to resent such "interference" and double down on clever tricks and cavalier attitudes to spite the nanny state they resent. It is a political thing, and I happen to recall, from paying attention to political news, that Governor Graham's administration of Florida was notorious nationally for being at an extreme in terms of readiness to impose the death penalty in particular. So, it is reasonable to assume that most of the felons on Death Row had done the crime they were convicted of, and in the emergency the decision to execute the lot of them en masse has a rough justice about it, but at the same time, surely some of them were victims of a flawed system, innocent of that particular crime anyway. To be sure one can turn the cynical screw another turn and argue that if authorities are going to be sloppy or malicious they probably wouldn't be so for any random citizen, but rather for those they judged to be sketchy characters in general, probably guilty of something else if not the crime they are shot for, and honest mistakes are sadly inevitable and society must judge by its best efforts at achieving justice.
Anyway if it stops there, this operation, which I do think is a morally bad thing however urgently pragmatics might require it, is a limited evil compared to the terrible dilemmas that are likely to face Florida and the general region in the aftermath of the war. We can expect worse things than Willy Loman, and if these are largely averted and mitigated I suppose Governor Graham deserves credit--and indeed I don't see him as a cartoon villain, nor a cartoon hero, but a man who is honestly trying his best to save what he can from this catastrophe.
----------
Thinking about it a little more, the code name Willy Loman suggests subtly to me that Governor Graham had enough sensitivity to realize that despite the despised and presumptively guilty status of its victims, that it came to this was a tragedy indeed. It gives me greater confidence in his moral integrity, so crucial to the best hopes of the ATL's regional outcomes, that he would reproach himself with this allusion and check any cheap triumphalism with a duly humble and self-mortifying attitude. Not to the point of crippling himself, but a permanent reminder of how far to the dark side circumstances drove him and how his obligation is to redeem such dark deeds with delivering a good civilization from the ashes.
---------------------
Ironically, if I am presumed to have made the same choices I did OTL the year before, and why wouldn't I, I moved to my probable doom, having relocated to the Los Angeles area for college, where I imagine I would perish miserably. My best alternative to the ambitious choice of school I managed to get into was the University of Florida, and it is not just this TL that makes me wonder if I might not have done far better to go there. Gainesville appears, barring a late launch of a missile from some vengeful Soviet sub that has managed to lurk in hiding through the hottest part of the war, to be one of the main islands from which civilization will reemerge. A freshman entering their second semester with a major in physics could easily be repurposed as a generic asset in the reconstruction period, and I think if I were confronted with the story of the Willy Loman operation I would have some moral qualms about it but honestly have little concern--at that time in particular I would not be as aware of either high false conviction rates or the racial and other class skewing of it, and the new society would be built on principles I probably would adapt to.
That is, insofar as being a person with a serious disability would not demote me to some fringe level of expendability. I like to think my basic ability to master math and engineering--not as well as someone cut out to be a genius in those things, but enough to be serviceable--might outweigh the difficulties that people have in communicating with the hearing impaired. It might be a good thing for me on the whole to wind up barracked with a bunch of people who had grown up using American Sign Language and learning it, something I never did in OTL; it might be decades before I could replace the single hearing aid I relied on that year, and I might soon be unable to acquire batteries to keep it operating, aside from the fact that it would deteriorate as would my basic hearing. (To be sure I might prove my worth as an engineer by finding some way to develop rechargeable versions, or manufacture new disposable/recyclable ones with available non-priority materials, or an adapter allowing use of more generic power sources). If I were accomplished enough I might hope for priority in getting new aids, though presumably the technology would not improve as OTL; but if I learned ASL I would have a fallback I lack OTL. Being mobilized as a reconstruction resource based in Gainesville or even seconded to some high fallout hellhole might overall be the best thing that happened to me.
But hearing impairment has several layers of "invisibility;" the fact that I need some help in understanding people would get me some slack, but people, even well intentioned ones, react on subconscious levels. A person who cannot hear normally will not react as expected socially, they miss cues others get and when they don't react as expected people hold it against them--mainly not realizing they are judging in this way, they just decide they don't like the person, don't trust them, aren't comfortable, and the person is a problem "aside from" being largely deaf--"I understand he can't hear, but why is he such an annoying asshole, eh?" (Also people tend not to notice a disability without plain visible evidence; even my 1982 issued hearing aid was not easy to spot and I tended then to hide it as much as possible). In a postwar situation I expect a minimum of cultural sensitivity and a maximum of "band of buddies" mentality; the pink monkey faces a bleaker fate. Perhaps then being consigned to the company of fully Deaf people would be best for me, though another cultural gap exists between those who have been institutionalized or otherwise adopted Signing, versus "mainstreaming" people, and I think I would carry over some ill thought out attitudes that might alienate those raised fully Deaf before I Got It.
On the whole though I would at least have chances in Bob Graham's Florida, and probably would quite respect his efforts to secure order and look to him for the most humane and hopeful option on offer. Despite adversity peculiar to me I could imagine becoming a valued and respected member of the postwar society.
Or I might just be dead anyway. I would think a lot of people were evacuated from UF, particularly the youngest freshmen, and if I were routed to rejoin my family, they had moved at that point to live near Langley AFB, in Hampton, Virginia--among other things, the headquarters of the Tactical Air Command as well as housing some NASA facilities. My father's office in a prior stint there a few years before was in a building with the old N.A.C.A. wind tunnels developed in the WWII era, in the USAF office sector of the base on the opposite side of the flight line from the newer expansion NASA Langley campus--Langley is in fact the Air Force's oldest base and the manhole covers in officer housing/main fighter hanger zone feature the old Army Signal Corps logo--there is also a Lighter Than Air legacy area at the end of the runway, then NCO housing, that was the base of the Roma, a large hydrogen filled semirigid acquired from Italy just after WWI that burned up across the water at Norfolk. Aside from the Langley complex, you can't swing a cat in the Tidewater region of Hampton/Newport News/Norfolk without hitting a major military facility--the Army had Fort Eustis and Fortress Monroe from before the Civil War era, where Jefferson Davis was incarcerated--the Union held it all through the ACW and it was still an operational Army office site as well as living museum when I lived in the region the last time. The Navy of course has Norfolk base, which is I believe the largest single Naval port in the nation and a major operational center of several fleets, crucial high commands, a massive nuclear weapons storage facility and God knows what else. The region of the James River mouth would be sure to be plastered with half a dozen or more high megatonnage strikes; I think I'd be deader there with greater redundancy than in Pasadena CA! Really if I had any common sense I would refuse evacuation from Gainesville, or be evacuated to some tent camp in the emptier parts of the eastern panhandle, and try to get my family to come down to Florida. I think maybe my father would be redeployed out of his stint in the Inspector General service that year to some frontline in Europe, and again his personal chances of survival would be higher in the fray in Europe than in Tidewater Virginia, and optimistically my mother and siblings, all younger than me, would evacuate somewhere--but unfortunately we had no relatives in low risk locations--if I stayed put in Gainesville I'd be the best off of the lot!
Anyway I didn't choose UF and only failure to be admitted to someplace "better" would be likely to change that--to be sure I struggled to get into my elite and expensive West Coast private school. Honestly though I spent most of my childhood in the South and was actually born in Texas (and had my first birthday in Virginia) I really was in retrospect mentally a Californian in exile, and residing in LA was a big part of my ambition. Had I "fallen back" on UF I did think it had its advantages and would probably have done well enough aside from nuclear war, but I would have been set back by regarding myself as mediocre--which might have been healthier for me. Also I would have had zero family backup there, while most of my relatives lived in Southern California at the time.
Only the improbable "fake flaky" move of choosing UF would save my life, perhaps, in an Able Archer war TL, and perhaps it would be a more noble and illustrious life.
The great law of ATLs is "The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side of the Fence!"
I emphasize "probably" because it is well known that a certain number of convictions, even in execution cases, are mishandled and in some cases even involve malicious fraud on the part of the authorities--if anyone wants to fight about this, I won't, just refer us all to site member Jonathan Edelstein who in the past few years freed a man put away for decades on the basis of proof that his prosecutor was guilty of corrupt and presumptively malicious misidentification of a suspect who could prove the impossibility of committing the crime. It happens, we can argue about how often, but I think it is clear that a jurisdiction that is prone to condemning people to death at higher rates than average is one that has a low regard for the rights of suspects across the board and I would expect a higher rate of false convictions there, despite judicially mandated recourses offered to those facing a death sentence. Authorities in such jurisdictions have a tendency to resent such "interference" and double down on clever tricks and cavalier attitudes to spite the nanny state they resent. It is a political thing, and I happen to recall, from paying attention to political news, that Governor Graham's administration of Florida was notorious nationally for being at an extreme in terms of readiness to impose the death penalty in particular. So, it is reasonable to assume that most of the felons on Death Row had done the crime they were convicted of, and in the emergency the decision to execute the lot of them en masse has a rough justice about it, but at the same time, surely some of them were victims of a flawed system, innocent of that particular crime anyway. To be sure one can turn the cynical screw another turn and argue that if authorities are going to be sloppy or malicious they probably wouldn't be so for any random citizen, but rather for those they judged to be sketchy characters in general, probably guilty of something else if not the crime they are shot for, and honest mistakes are sadly inevitable and society must judge by its best efforts at achieving justice.
Anyway if it stops there, this operation, which I do think is a morally bad thing however urgently pragmatics might require it, is a limited evil compared to the terrible dilemmas that are likely to face Florida and the general region in the aftermath of the war. We can expect worse things than Willy Loman, and if these are largely averted and mitigated I suppose Governor Graham deserves credit--and indeed I don't see him as a cartoon villain, nor a cartoon hero, but a man who is honestly trying his best to save what he can from this catastrophe.
----------
Thinking about it a little more, the code name Willy Loman suggests subtly to me that Governor Graham had enough sensitivity to realize that despite the despised and presumptively guilty status of its victims, that it came to this was a tragedy indeed. It gives me greater confidence in his moral integrity, so crucial to the best hopes of the ATL's regional outcomes, that he would reproach himself with this allusion and check any cheap triumphalism with a duly humble and self-mortifying attitude. Not to the point of crippling himself, but a permanent reminder of how far to the dark side circumstances drove him and how his obligation is to redeem such dark deeds with delivering a good civilization from the ashes.
---------------------
Ironically, if I am presumed to have made the same choices I did OTL the year before, and why wouldn't I, I moved to my probable doom, having relocated to the Los Angeles area for college, where I imagine I would perish miserably. My best alternative to the ambitious choice of school I managed to get into was the University of Florida, and it is not just this TL that makes me wonder if I might not have done far better to go there. Gainesville appears, barring a late launch of a missile from some vengeful Soviet sub that has managed to lurk in hiding through the hottest part of the war, to be one of the main islands from which civilization will reemerge. A freshman entering their second semester with a major in physics could easily be repurposed as a generic asset in the reconstruction period, and I think if I were confronted with the story of the Willy Loman operation I would have some moral qualms about it but honestly have little concern--at that time in particular I would not be as aware of either high false conviction rates or the racial and other class skewing of it, and the new society would be built on principles I probably would adapt to.
That is, insofar as being a person with a serious disability would not demote me to some fringe level of expendability. I like to think my basic ability to master math and engineering--not as well as someone cut out to be a genius in those things, but enough to be serviceable--might outweigh the difficulties that people have in communicating with the hearing impaired. It might be a good thing for me on the whole to wind up barracked with a bunch of people who had grown up using American Sign Language and learning it, something I never did in OTL; it might be decades before I could replace the single hearing aid I relied on that year, and I might soon be unable to acquire batteries to keep it operating, aside from the fact that it would deteriorate as would my basic hearing. (To be sure I might prove my worth as an engineer by finding some way to develop rechargeable versions, or manufacture new disposable/recyclable ones with available non-priority materials, or an adapter allowing use of more generic power sources). If I were accomplished enough I might hope for priority in getting new aids, though presumably the technology would not improve as OTL; but if I learned ASL I would have a fallback I lack OTL. Being mobilized as a reconstruction resource based in Gainesville or even seconded to some high fallout hellhole might overall be the best thing that happened to me.
But hearing impairment has several layers of "invisibility;" the fact that I need some help in understanding people would get me some slack, but people, even well intentioned ones, react on subconscious levels. A person who cannot hear normally will not react as expected socially, they miss cues others get and when they don't react as expected people hold it against them--mainly not realizing they are judging in this way, they just decide they don't like the person, don't trust them, aren't comfortable, and the person is a problem "aside from" being largely deaf--"I understand he can't hear, but why is he such an annoying asshole, eh?" (Also people tend not to notice a disability without plain visible evidence; even my 1982 issued hearing aid was not easy to spot and I tended then to hide it as much as possible). In a postwar situation I expect a minimum of cultural sensitivity and a maximum of "band of buddies" mentality; the pink monkey faces a bleaker fate. Perhaps then being consigned to the company of fully Deaf people would be best for me, though another cultural gap exists between those who have been institutionalized or otherwise adopted Signing, versus "mainstreaming" people, and I think I would carry over some ill thought out attitudes that might alienate those raised fully Deaf before I Got It.
On the whole though I would at least have chances in Bob Graham's Florida, and probably would quite respect his efforts to secure order and look to him for the most humane and hopeful option on offer. Despite adversity peculiar to me I could imagine becoming a valued and respected member of the postwar society.
Or I might just be dead anyway. I would think a lot of people were evacuated from UF, particularly the youngest freshmen, and if I were routed to rejoin my family, they had moved at that point to live near Langley AFB, in Hampton, Virginia--among other things, the headquarters of the Tactical Air Command as well as housing some NASA facilities. My father's office in a prior stint there a few years before was in a building with the old N.A.C.A. wind tunnels developed in the WWII era, in the USAF office sector of the base on the opposite side of the flight line from the newer expansion NASA Langley campus--Langley is in fact the Air Force's oldest base and the manhole covers in officer housing/main fighter hanger zone feature the old Army Signal Corps logo--there is also a Lighter Than Air legacy area at the end of the runway, then NCO housing, that was the base of the Roma, a large hydrogen filled semirigid acquired from Italy just after WWI that burned up across the water at Norfolk. Aside from the Langley complex, you can't swing a cat in the Tidewater region of Hampton/Newport News/Norfolk without hitting a major military facility--the Army had Fort Eustis and Fortress Monroe from before the Civil War era, where Jefferson Davis was incarcerated--the Union held it all through the ACW and it was still an operational Army office site as well as living museum when I lived in the region the last time. The Navy of course has Norfolk base, which is I believe the largest single Naval port in the nation and a major operational center of several fleets, crucial high commands, a massive nuclear weapons storage facility and God knows what else. The region of the James River mouth would be sure to be plastered with half a dozen or more high megatonnage strikes; I think I'd be deader there with greater redundancy than in Pasadena CA! Really if I had any common sense I would refuse evacuation from Gainesville, or be evacuated to some tent camp in the emptier parts of the eastern panhandle, and try to get my family to come down to Florida. I think maybe my father would be redeployed out of his stint in the Inspector General service that year to some frontline in Europe, and again his personal chances of survival would be higher in the fray in Europe than in Tidewater Virginia, and optimistically my mother and siblings, all younger than me, would evacuate somewhere--but unfortunately we had no relatives in low risk locations--if I stayed put in Gainesville I'd be the best off of the lot!
Anyway I didn't choose UF and only failure to be admitted to someplace "better" would be likely to change that--to be sure I struggled to get into my elite and expensive West Coast private school. Honestly though I spent most of my childhood in the South and was actually born in Texas (and had my first birthday in Virginia) I really was in retrospect mentally a Californian in exile, and residing in LA was a big part of my ambition. Had I "fallen back" on UF I did think it had its advantages and would probably have done well enough aside from nuclear war, but I would have been set back by regarding myself as mediocre--which might have been healthier for me. Also I would have had zero family backup there, while most of my relatives lived in Southern California at the time.
Only the improbable "fake flaky" move of choosing UF would save my life, perhaps, in an Able Archer war TL, and perhaps it would be a more noble and illustrious life.
The great law of ATLs is "The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side of the Fence!"
Good post, @Shevek23, and, BTW, I agree with you; the majority of the inmates were guilty of the crimes they committed. Sadly, questions of the guilt and innocence of some (and I emphasize some) aren't going to matter ITTL, especially given that one in three Floridians have died in the Exchange and its aftermath (so far; that number will grow, trust me).
Gainesville will be a population center, as will Daytona Beach, Fort Myers (heck, most of the cities in West Florida roughly south of Sarasota (1) will become these population centers, especially with all the people fleeing from the destroyed cities in Florida), and Tallahassee (once the fallout clears), among others; I'll just assume the missile with Tallahassee's name on it either failed to launch or was destroyed before it could launch.
I never thought about the use of the name Willy Loman like that, but that is plausible, IMO. Let me put it this way: Graham is in an unenviable position ITTL with all the hard decisions he has to make here (rather like Bob Kerrey in Nebraska; look up Land of Flatwater for what happened there)...
Waiting for more, of course (especially as Florida gradually makes contact with the US outside of its immediate area (e.g. Alabama and Georgia; I'm wondering how both states are faring, actually, and that'll be the focus of future chapters, methinks)...
(1) My cousin lives in Sarasota with her kids, and my grandmother lived in North Port for years.
Gainesville will be a population center, as will Daytona Beach, Fort Myers (heck, most of the cities in West Florida roughly south of Sarasota (1) will become these population centers, especially with all the people fleeing from the destroyed cities in Florida), and Tallahassee (once the fallout clears), among others; I'll just assume the missile with Tallahassee's name on it either failed to launch or was destroyed before it could launch.
I never thought about the use of the name Willy Loman like that, but that is plausible, IMO. Let me put it this way: Graham is in an unenviable position ITTL with all the hard decisions he has to make here (rather like Bob Kerrey in Nebraska; look up Land of Flatwater for what happened there)...
Waiting for more, of course (especially as Florida gradually makes contact with the US outside of its immediate area (e.g. Alabama and Georgia; I'm wondering how both states are faring, actually, and that'll be the focus of future chapters, methinks)...
(1) My cousin lives in Sarasota with her kids, and my grandmother lived in North Port for years.
Chapter 48
Chapter 48
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean
1955 hours
March 2, 1984
World War III log of Vice Admiral Joseph Metcalf, commander, Task Force 20, United States Navy Second Fleet:
I am firmly of the belief that the only reason the majority of my ships are alive is a mixture of better technology, quick instincts and dumb luck. I can think of little else that has kept the USS Independence and its escorts alive for two weeks of a war that has gone nuclear. Our hunting of Soviet submarines had gone quite well before the Exchange began, and I hope that it mattered, that lives were spared in places to where they could survive and live to rebuild our nation. The sight of those mushroom clouds in the distance was a sight I'd hoped I could have gone without. Our families are probably all dead, but we want to live, so we continue on, pushing the thoughts out of our minds as best as possible. A few sailors had to be confined to quarters after going mad, but it was to be expected. Once Armageddon had come for us, it would be asking too much for everyone to be able to handle it.
When the Exchange began on 21 February, I ordered all of our ships to flank speed southeast of Florida, because even though we were offshore, we knew the fallout would come for us. One of the last things we'd gotten from CINCLANT headquarters in Norfolk before it went dark was the tracks of the missiles headed towards the east coast (and the ones we'd launched at Cuba) and that allowed me to plan our maneuvers to some extent. We had about three hours of time to get clear of our station, and at flank, you can make decent time. By mid-afternoon, we were somewhere near Nassau, when USS Briscoe [editor's note--a Spruance-class destroyer] was sunk by a Soviet attack submarine, believed to be a Victor-III class. That little bastard wouldn't get far, because I had a SH-2F Sea Sprite patrolling, and Moosbrugger, one of the best anti-submarine ships in the Navy, guided in the helo to the Victor, and sank it with an air-dropped torpedo. I hope they died screaming. There was no goddamn point. We'll fight if we have to and when we have to, but in my eyes, the war ended when the nukes began flying, and the captain of that submarine knew damn well they'd flown, I'm sure. Their whole country started a war, unnecessarily, and now the Holocaust looks like a drop in the bucket compared to how many people are dead across this Earth of ours.
It is difficult to identify threats on sonar when running at flank speed, and it was through no fault of our sonarmen that we lost Briscoe. It was my order, and I knew that would be a risk, but the alternative was all of us dying from radiation poisoning, and so a few hundred died to save the lives of thousands. This is what war brings: choices ranging from bad to worse. I did bring our speed down though, since we'd made good time and weren't in any fallout paths.
We're now in contact with survivors on Puerto Rico. Mayagüez, on the West Coast, survived, as did, shockingly, Naval Station Roosevelt Roads in Ceiba. Apparently an old Hotel-class lobbed off two of its missiles before being sank by a P-3 Orion patrolling north of the coast. San Juan and Vieques are gone, but between Mayagüez and Ponce, the island is in decent shape, all things considered. Roosevelt Roads' survival means that there is supplies, and hopefully survivors. No word on fallout, but as we get close to Ceiba, we'll be able to find out if NAVSOUTHCOM is still there. So we've made it home, in a way. Americans are alive on Puerto Rico, many of them, and it's going to be our duty to protect them. I can only hope there's no more missile subs around here.
*****
Miramar, Florida
2110 hours
Manny Rivera was outside, smoking a cigar behind the house. It had been unpleasant, to say the least, over the past....nine days? Ten? Manny had been losing count. They'd been inside a house with all of its windows boarded up and doors sealed. The ex-CIA men had gotten ahold of good radiation detection gear, and earlier today, they deemed it safe for everyone to get some fresh air. The rule was nobody went outside alone, except for Manny, who wanted a few minutes of peace. Nobody wanted to deny him that, given that A: he was the boss, and B: his temper was volcanic. So, Rivera enjoyed the solitude. There were no sounds of birds, though, and the sky was cloudy, with only a sliver of moon coming through. It was almost too quiet, but it made it easier when he heard the soft moaning to his right.
Manny pulled out his silenced pistol and headed towards the fenceline. As he got closer, he could see two shapes there approaching it in the distance, shambling along in obvious agony. Christ, someone found the place. Well, I can't just let them stay there, others will hear them. He tucked the pistol in his waistband and scaled the fence, hopping over to the other side. Rivera walked towards the two people, keeping his distance, though. As he got close enough to see, what he beheld horrified him. It was a man and a woman, and their skin was peeling and blistered, sores oozing. Hair had fallen out in spots. Jesucristo! The man spoke, "Please....help us....we need water. My wife can't even speak now. I know we're dying.....Please, sir....hel--" The man didn't get a chance to finish, as Manny whipped out his pistol and shot them both in the head. He ran back to the house, and got some men, who put on surgical-style suits, masks and gloves. They brought out shovels, dug a hole quickly, and then poured in some lighter fluid and used a camping match to set them ablaze. Keeping a good distance, when the fire died down the two people were extinguished and the dirt thrown atop their charred corpses.
Manny needed two Valiums to fall asleep that night.
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean
1955 hours
March 2, 1984
World War III log of Vice Admiral Joseph Metcalf, commander, Task Force 20, United States Navy Second Fleet:
I am firmly of the belief that the only reason the majority of my ships are alive is a mixture of better technology, quick instincts and dumb luck. I can think of little else that has kept the USS Independence and its escorts alive for two weeks of a war that has gone nuclear. Our hunting of Soviet submarines had gone quite well before the Exchange began, and I hope that it mattered, that lives were spared in places to where they could survive and live to rebuild our nation. The sight of those mushroom clouds in the distance was a sight I'd hoped I could have gone without. Our families are probably all dead, but we want to live, so we continue on, pushing the thoughts out of our minds as best as possible. A few sailors had to be confined to quarters after going mad, but it was to be expected. Once Armageddon had come for us, it would be asking too much for everyone to be able to handle it.
When the Exchange began on 21 February, I ordered all of our ships to flank speed southeast of Florida, because even though we were offshore, we knew the fallout would come for us. One of the last things we'd gotten from CINCLANT headquarters in Norfolk before it went dark was the tracks of the missiles headed towards the east coast (and the ones we'd launched at Cuba) and that allowed me to plan our maneuvers to some extent. We had about three hours of time to get clear of our station, and at flank, you can make decent time. By mid-afternoon, we were somewhere near Nassau, when USS Briscoe [editor's note--a Spruance-class destroyer] was sunk by a Soviet attack submarine, believed to be a Victor-III class. That little bastard wouldn't get far, because I had a SH-2F Sea Sprite patrolling, and Moosbrugger, one of the best anti-submarine ships in the Navy, guided in the helo to the Victor, and sank it with an air-dropped torpedo. I hope they died screaming. There was no goddamn point. We'll fight if we have to and when we have to, but in my eyes, the war ended when the nukes began flying, and the captain of that submarine knew damn well they'd flown, I'm sure. Their whole country started a war, unnecessarily, and now the Holocaust looks like a drop in the bucket compared to how many people are dead across this Earth of ours.
It is difficult to identify threats on sonar when running at flank speed, and it was through no fault of our sonarmen that we lost Briscoe. It was my order, and I knew that would be a risk, but the alternative was all of us dying from radiation poisoning, and so a few hundred died to save the lives of thousands. This is what war brings: choices ranging from bad to worse. I did bring our speed down though, since we'd made good time and weren't in any fallout paths.
We're now in contact with survivors on Puerto Rico. Mayagüez, on the West Coast, survived, as did, shockingly, Naval Station Roosevelt Roads in Ceiba. Apparently an old Hotel-class lobbed off two of its missiles before being sank by a P-3 Orion patrolling north of the coast. San Juan and Vieques are gone, but between Mayagüez and Ponce, the island is in decent shape, all things considered. Roosevelt Roads' survival means that there is supplies, and hopefully survivors. No word on fallout, but as we get close to Ceiba, we'll be able to find out if NAVSOUTHCOM is still there. So we've made it home, in a way. Americans are alive on Puerto Rico, many of them, and it's going to be our duty to protect them. I can only hope there's no more missile subs around here.
--Metcalf
*****
Miramar, Florida
2110 hours
Manny Rivera was outside, smoking a cigar behind the house. It had been unpleasant, to say the least, over the past....nine days? Ten? Manny had been losing count. They'd been inside a house with all of its windows boarded up and doors sealed. The ex-CIA men had gotten ahold of good radiation detection gear, and earlier today, they deemed it safe for everyone to get some fresh air. The rule was nobody went outside alone, except for Manny, who wanted a few minutes of peace. Nobody wanted to deny him that, given that A: he was the boss, and B: his temper was volcanic. So, Rivera enjoyed the solitude. There were no sounds of birds, though, and the sky was cloudy, with only a sliver of moon coming through. It was almost too quiet, but it made it easier when he heard the soft moaning to his right.
Manny pulled out his silenced pistol and headed towards the fenceline. As he got closer, he could see two shapes there approaching it in the distance, shambling along in obvious agony. Christ, someone found the place. Well, I can't just let them stay there, others will hear them. He tucked the pistol in his waistband and scaled the fence, hopping over to the other side. Rivera walked towards the two people, keeping his distance, though. As he got close enough to see, what he beheld horrified him. It was a man and a woman, and their skin was peeling and blistered, sores oozing. Hair had fallen out in spots. Jesucristo! The man spoke, "Please....help us....we need water. My wife can't even speak now. I know we're dying.....Please, sir....hel--" The man didn't get a chance to finish, as Manny whipped out his pistol and shot them both in the head. He ran back to the house, and got some men, who put on surgical-style suits, masks and gloves. They brought out shovels, dug a hole quickly, and then poured in some lighter fluid and used a camping match to set them ablaze. Keeping a good distance, when the fire died down the two people were extinguished and the dirt thrown atop their charred corpses.
Manny needed two Valiums to fall asleep that night.
Well, welcome back, @wolverinethad. So the Independence and most of its escorts survived. That's good...so far. Poor Puerto Rico...dealing with a disaster that makes Hurricane Maria (and Hugo, too) look like a summer thunderstorm--with no aid coming from the United States. I kinda figured Puerto Rico might get hit; sad to see that my prediction is true...
And, well, Manny survived, I see. The people he shot, while being innocent civilians, were dying horribly anyway, so he really did the right thing here (talk about shooting the dog, though), IMO...
Good chapter; like seeing more of the postwar world, little by little...
And, well, Manny survived, I see. The people he shot, while being innocent civilians, were dying horribly anyway, so he really did the right thing here (talk about shooting the dog, though), IMO...
Good chapter; like seeing more of the postwar world, little by little...