Smash Every Last One of Them! A Buisness Plot Timeline
- Thread starter TheMasterAltHistorian
- Start date
Sorry about that. Had a busy day with my family out and an unfortunate case of procrasination. It's going to be posted tonight EST
Chapter 5: Flame in the Cold Heart
Sorry for taking so long to post. Hope you will enjoy this chapter on what is going to happen in the South!
Chapter 5: Flame in the Cold Heart
Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain slurs and overt racism
Montgomery, Alabama: December 19th, 1933
Music, clinking drinks, and hollering laughter rang around near the outskirts of the Alabama River and Montgomery. In the hills that towered over the river’s swampy~ marshes stands a shack style illegal bar, filled with solemn people trying to escape the river of misery that blanketed America’s cities. The stiff drinks helped thaw away at the people’s solemness and made them slightly forget about the troubled America around them.
In a wooden round table near the Bar entrance, 2 of these patrons were doing exactly that. From the North side of the table was Ted Brooks, a brunette middle aged bulky 6 ft pale man in a simple overalls and a blue shirt, the Southern Side Tom Hendricks, a slightly muscular younger . Hendricks and Brooks had a few shots of whiskey to loosen themselves up a bit, which did help. With their minds and thoughts loosened, the 2 started to exchange pleasant talks with each other.
“My ma used to say to me “Ya drink too much whiskey boy and y’all be a homeless bum with the rest of the negroes!”, Brooks spat out. Both men roared at what they saw as a claim that his mom made. “No way I’d ever be on the same level as a negroe!” Brooks continued while taking another shot. “Those negroes on the street do nothing but cause a ruckus everywhere they go, I swear.” Hendricks lamented while giving a hearty chuckle to top it off. “Well it seems they are making one up in DC and in all American cities!” Brooks replied.
Hendricks, internalizing Brooks' comments, lit up in defense of these battles. “Actually, those are not the actions of negroes, they are the actions of brave veterans who just want to see America give them the respect they deserve.” Hendricks rebutted. “By burning buildings to the ground like race riots?” Brooks sarcastically questioned Hendricks as he raised his eyebrow. “Those were federal government buildings, they didn’t intend to target civilians.” Hendricks replied in defense as he rested his shot. Hendricks rested his arms onto Brooks as he stared into his hazel eyes. “Do you hate the bigwigs in politics?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Alrighty then,” Hendricks interrupted as he grabbed Brooks hand about to drag him to the door. “...let me tell you about how those boys are tearing down the bureaucracy of DC.” Brooks, shocked but also intrigued by Hendricks' words, allowed himself to be taken outside. Brooks had flashes of the civilians killed during the battles but also detested most DC politicians as he thought they detested Southern Culture. The two men stepped outside of the bar into the cold air and damp mud as they went for a quick stroll to the otherside of the bar.
“You know I’m actually a part of the American Legion. Ever heard of that?” Hendricks spilled to Brooks. “No? What the hell even is that?” Brooks replied deadpanned, completely uninterested in what Hendricks had to say. “Just a bunch of veterans who like liberty.” Hendricks responded in the same tone manner as Brooks. Hendricks proceeded to spill the main information about the Business Plot that he knew (Doyle and MacGuire were the only ones who knew of the businessman funding the plot) and how he himself along with others were preparing to bring the Business Plot to Dixie. Brook’s became slightly more interested in what Hendricks was yapping about as he himself thought America had gone too weak and soft. He came to chim with what Hendricks was saying.
“Say, what do y’all do with a few niggers mingling around ya folk?”
“They don’t usually bother us, at least that’s what I hear from the West and East.” Hendricks took out a cigarette and lit it.
Brooks chuckled at this as Hendricks put the cigarette in his mouth. “That attitude won’t work here with negroes populating everywhere and being loyal FDR slaves.” Brooks brushed off his shoulders and shuddered at the thought of even being kind to black people. “I should know that from both personal experience and for my time in a Klan.”
“You're in the KKK?” Hendricks questioned after he took a drag from his cigarette. “Yup. Figured to learn to defend myself from niggers.” Brooks nonchalantly replied. “Ya know, I’m interested in your prospect of joining the whole 2nd Revolution thing,” Brooks continued, “... but I think you need to know how to defend y’alls asses against negro aggression.”
“I know a few buddies in other klans who would be interested in y’all’s little adventure. But you and your buddies in high and low ranks got to promise one tiny little thing for us Southerners.” Brooks put his hand on Hendricks' shoulders, facing his face as he towered over him.
“Ya just got to go out their and cleanse any negro problems in the big cities. Deal?” Brooks extended his hand out to Hendricks while staring into Hendricks soul.
“I have no problem with that and the Legion is mostly composed of white men so you won’t have to worry about a thing down here with Southern Legion members.” Hendricks gawked out as he flashed a toothy grin while shaking Brooks hand.
For the Legion in Dixie, their members already had a low opinion on black people and some where even a part of their own subsects of Klan’s itself, so a partnership between them was in no way out of the question. Dixie to both groups, was about to rise again.
Chapter 5: Flame in the Cold Heart
Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain slurs and overt racism
Montgomery, Alabama: December 19th, 1933
Music, clinking drinks, and hollering laughter rang around near the outskirts of the Alabama River and Montgomery. In the hills that towered over the river’s swampy~ marshes stands a shack style illegal bar, filled with solemn people trying to escape the river of misery that blanketed America’s cities. The stiff drinks helped thaw away at the people’s solemness and made them slightly forget about the troubled America around them.
In a wooden round table near the Bar entrance, 2 of these patrons were doing exactly that. From the North side of the table was Ted Brooks, a brunette middle aged bulky 6 ft pale man in a simple overalls and a blue shirt, the Southern Side Tom Hendricks, a slightly muscular younger . Hendricks and Brooks had a few shots of whiskey to loosen themselves up a bit, which did help. With their minds and thoughts loosened, the 2 started to exchange pleasant talks with each other.
“My ma used to say to me “Ya drink too much whiskey boy and y’all be a homeless bum with the rest of the negroes!”, Brooks spat out. Both men roared at what they saw as a claim that his mom made. “No way I’d ever be on the same level as a negroe!” Brooks continued while taking another shot. “Those negroes on the street do nothing but cause a ruckus everywhere they go, I swear.” Hendricks lamented while giving a hearty chuckle to top it off. “Well it seems they are making one up in DC and in all American cities!” Brooks replied.
Hendricks, internalizing Brooks' comments, lit up in defense of these battles. “Actually, those are not the actions of negroes, they are the actions of brave veterans who just want to see America give them the respect they deserve.” Hendricks rebutted. “By burning buildings to the ground like race riots?” Brooks sarcastically questioned Hendricks as he raised his eyebrow. “Those were federal government buildings, they didn’t intend to target civilians.” Hendricks replied in defense as he rested his shot. Hendricks rested his arms onto Brooks as he stared into his hazel eyes. “Do you hate the bigwigs in politics?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Alrighty then,” Hendricks interrupted as he grabbed Brooks hand about to drag him to the door. “...let me tell you about how those boys are tearing down the bureaucracy of DC.” Brooks, shocked but also intrigued by Hendricks' words, allowed himself to be taken outside. Brooks had flashes of the civilians killed during the battles but also detested most DC politicians as he thought they detested Southern Culture. The two men stepped outside of the bar into the cold air and damp mud as they went for a quick stroll to the otherside of the bar.
“You know I’m actually a part of the American Legion. Ever heard of that?” Hendricks spilled to Brooks. “No? What the hell even is that?” Brooks replied deadpanned, completely uninterested in what Hendricks had to say. “Just a bunch of veterans who like liberty.” Hendricks responded in the same tone manner as Brooks. Hendricks proceeded to spill the main information about the Business Plot that he knew (Doyle and MacGuire were the only ones who knew of the businessman funding the plot) and how he himself along with others were preparing to bring the Business Plot to Dixie. Brook’s became slightly more interested in what Hendricks was yapping about as he himself thought America had gone too weak and soft. He came to chim with what Hendricks was saying.
“Say, what do y’all do with a few niggers mingling around ya folk?”
“They don’t usually bother us, at least that’s what I hear from the West and East.” Hendricks took out a cigarette and lit it.
Brooks chuckled at this as Hendricks put the cigarette in his mouth. “That attitude won’t work here with negroes populating everywhere and being loyal FDR slaves.” Brooks brushed off his shoulders and shuddered at the thought of even being kind to black people. “I should know that from both personal experience and for my time in a Klan.”
“You're in the KKK?” Hendricks questioned after he took a drag from his cigarette. “Yup. Figured to learn to defend myself from niggers.” Brooks nonchalantly replied. “Ya know, I’m interested in your prospect of joining the whole 2nd Revolution thing,” Brooks continued, “... but I think you need to know how to defend y’alls asses against negro aggression.”
“I know a few buddies in other klans who would be interested in y’all’s little adventure. But you and your buddies in high and low ranks got to promise one tiny little thing for us Southerners.” Brooks put his hand on Hendricks' shoulders, facing his face as he towered over him.
“Ya just got to go out their and cleanse any negro problems in the big cities. Deal?” Brooks extended his hand out to Hendricks while staring into Hendricks soul.
“I have no problem with that and the Legion is mostly composed of white men so you won’t have to worry about a thing down here with Southern Legion members.” Hendricks gawked out as he flashed a toothy grin while shaking Brooks hand.
For the Legion in Dixie, their members already had a low opinion on black people and some where even a part of their own subsects of Klan’s itself, so a partnership between them was in no way out of the question. Dixie to both groups, was about to rise again.
Great chapter, exited for the next one! possibly today?Sorry for taking so long to post. Hope you will enjoy this chapter on what is going to happen in the South!
Chapter 5: Flame in the Cold Heart
Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain slurs and overt racism
Montgomery, Alabama: December 19th, 1933
Music, clinking drinks, and hollering laughter rang around near the outskirts of the Alabama River and Montgomery. In the hills that towered over the river’s swampy~ marshes stands a shack style illegal bar, filled with solemn people trying to escape the river of misery that blanketed America’s cities. The stiff drinks helped thaw away at the people’s solemness and made them slightly forget about the troubled America around them.
In a wooden round table near the Bar entrance, 2 of these patrons were doing exactly that. From the North side of the table was Ted Brooks, a brunette middle aged bulky 6 ft pale man in a simple overalls and a blue shirt, the Southern Side Tom Hendricks, a slightly muscular younger . Hendricks and Brooks had a few shots of whiskey to loosen themselves up a bit, which did help. With their minds and thoughts loosened, the 2 started to exchange pleasant talks with each other.
“My ma used to say to me “Ya drink too much whiskey boy and y’all be a homeless bum with the rest of the negroes!”, Brooks spat out. Both men roared at what they saw as a claim that his mom made. “No way I’d ever be on the same level as a negroe!” Brooks continued while taking another shot. “Those negroes on the street do nothing but cause a ruckus everywhere they go, I swear.” Hendricks lamented while giving a hearty chuckle to top it off. “Well it seems they are making one up in DC and in all American cities!” Brooks replied.
Hendricks, internalizing Brooks' comments, lit up in defense of these battles. “Actually, those are not the actions of negroes, they are the actions of brave veterans who just want to see America give them the respect they deserve.” Hendricks rebutted. “By burning buildings to the ground like race riots?” Brooks sarcastically questioned Hendricks as he raised his eyebrow. “Those were federal government buildings, they didn’t intend to target civilians.” Hendricks replied in defense as he rested his shot. Hendricks rested his arms onto Brooks as he stared into his hazel eyes. “Do you hate the bigwigs in politics?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Alrighty then,” Hendricks interrupted as he grabbed Brooks hand about to drag him to the door. “...let me tell you about how those boys are tearing down the bureaucracy of DC.” Brooks, shocked but also intrigued by Hendricks' words, allowed himself to be taken outside. Brooks had flashes of the civilians killed during the battles but also detested most DC politicians as he thought they detested Southern Culture. The two men stepped outside of the bar into the cold air and damp mud as they went for a quick stroll to the otherside of the bar.
“You know I’m actually a part of the American Legion. Ever heard of that?” Hendricks spilled to Brooks. “No? What the hell even is that?” Brooks replied deadpanned, completely uninterested in what Hendricks had to say. “Just a bunch of veterans who like liberty.” Hendricks responded in the same tone manner as Brooks. Hendricks proceeded to spill the main information about the Business Plot that he knew (Doyle and MacGuire were the only ones who knew of the businessman funding the plot) and how he himself along with others were preparing to bring the Business Plot to Dixie. Brook’s became slightly more interested in what Hendricks was yapping about as he himself thought America had gone too weak and soft. He came to chim with what Hendricks was saying.
“Say, what do y’all do with a few niggers mingling around ya folk?”
“They don’t usually bother us, at least that’s what I hear from the West and East.” Hendricks took out a cigarette and lit it.
Brooks chuckled at this as Hendricks put the cigarette in his mouth. “That attitude won’t work here with negroes populating everywhere and being loyal FDR slaves.” Brooks brushed off his shoulders and shuddered at the thought of even being kind to black people. “I should know that from both personal experience and for my time in a Klan.”
“You're in the KKK?” Hendricks questioned after he took a drag from his cigarette. “Yup. Figured to learn to defend myself from niggers.” Brooks nonchalantly replied. “Ya know, I’m interested in your prospect of joining the whole 2nd Revolution thing,” Brooks continued, “... but I think you need to know how to defend y’alls asses against negro aggression.”
“I know a few buddies in other klans who would be interested in y’all’s little adventure. But you and your buddies in high and low ranks got to promise one tiny little thing for us Southerners.” Brooks put his hand on Hendricks' shoulders, facing his face as he towered over him.
“Ya just got to go out their and cleanse any negro problems in the big cities. Deal?” Brooks extended his hand out to Hendricks while staring into Hendricks soul.
“I have no problem with that and the Legion is mostly composed of white men so you won’t have to worry about a thing down here with Southern Legion members.” Hendricks gawked out as he flashed a toothy grin while shaking Brooks hand.
For the Legion in Dixie, their members already had a low opinion on black people and some where even a part of their own subsects of Klan’s itself, so a partnership between them was in no way out of the question. Dixie to both groups, was about to rise again.
When will the next chapter be released?Sorry for taking so long to post. Hope you will enjoy this chapter on what is going to happen in the South!
Chapter 5: Flame in the Cold Heart
Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain slurs and overt racism
Montgomery, Alabama: December 19th, 1933
Music, clinking drinks, and hollering laughter rang around near the outskirts of the Alabama River and Montgomery. In the hills that towered over the river’s swampy~ marshes stands a shack style illegal bar, filled with solemn people trying to escape the river of misery that blanketed America’s cities. The stiff drinks helped thaw away at the people’s solemness and made them slightly forget about the troubled America around them.
In a wooden round table near the Bar entrance, 2 of these patrons were doing exactly that. From the North side of the table was Ted Brooks, a brunette middle aged bulky 6 ft pale man in a simple overalls and a blue shirt, the Southern Side Tom Hendricks, a slightly muscular younger . Hendricks and Brooks had a few shots of whiskey to loosen themselves up a bit, which did help. With their minds and thoughts loosened, the 2 started to exchange pleasant talks with each other.
“My ma used to say to me “Ya drink too much whiskey boy and y’all be a homeless bum with the rest of the negroes!”, Brooks spat out. Both men roared at what they saw as a claim that his mom made. “No way I’d ever be on the same level as a negroe!” Brooks continued while taking another shot. “Those negroes on the street do nothing but cause a ruckus everywhere they go, I swear.” Hendricks lamented while giving a hearty chuckle to top it off. “Well it seems they are making one up in DC and in all American cities!” Brooks replied.
Hendricks, internalizing Brooks' comments, lit up in defense of these battles. “Actually, those are not the actions of negroes, they are the actions of brave veterans who just want to see America give them the respect they deserve.” Hendricks rebutted. “By burning buildings to the ground like race riots?” Brooks sarcastically questioned Hendricks as he raised his eyebrow. “Those were federal government buildings, they didn’t intend to target civilians.” Hendricks replied in defense as he rested his shot. Hendricks rested his arms onto Brooks as he stared into his hazel eyes. “Do you hate the bigwigs in politics?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Alrighty then,” Hendricks interrupted as he grabbed Brooks hand about to drag him to the door. “...let me tell you about how those boys are tearing down the bureaucracy of DC.” Brooks, shocked but also intrigued by Hendricks' words, allowed himself to be taken outside. Brooks had flashes of the civilians killed during the battles but also detested most DC politicians as he thought they detested Southern Culture. The two men stepped outside of the bar into the cold air and damp mud as they went for a quick stroll to the otherside of the bar.
“You know I’m actually a part of the American Legion. Ever heard of that?” Hendricks spilled to Brooks. “No? What the hell even is that?” Brooks replied deadpanned, completely uninterested in what Hendricks had to say. “Just a bunch of veterans who like liberty.” Hendricks responded in the same tone manner as Brooks. Hendricks proceeded to spill the main information about the Business Plot that he knew (Doyle and MacGuire were the only ones who knew of the businessman funding the plot) and how he himself along with others were preparing to bring the Business Plot to Dixie. Brook’s became slightly more interested in what Hendricks was yapping about as he himself thought America had gone too weak and soft. He came to chim with what Hendricks was saying.
“Say, what do y’all do with a few niggers mingling around ya folk?”
“They don’t usually bother us, at least that’s what I hear from the West and East.” Hendricks took out a cigarette and lit it.
Brooks chuckled at this as Hendricks put the cigarette in his mouth. “That attitude won’t work here with negroes populating everywhere and being loyal FDR slaves.” Brooks brushed off his shoulders and shuddered at the thought of even being kind to black people. “I should know that from both personal experience and for my time in a Klan.”
“You're in the KKK?” Hendricks questioned after he took a drag from his cigarette. “Yup. Figured to learn to defend myself from niggers.” Brooks nonchalantly replied. “Ya know, I’m interested in your prospect of joining the whole 2nd Revolution thing,” Brooks continued, “... but I think you need to know how to defend y’alls asses against negro aggression.”
“I know a few buddies in other klans who would be interested in y’all’s little adventure. But you and your buddies in high and low ranks got to promise one tiny little thing for us Southerners.” Brooks put his hand on Hendricks' shoulders, facing his face as he towered over him.
“Ya just got to go out their and cleanse any negro problems in the big cities. Deal?” Brooks extended his hand out to Hendricks while staring into Hendricks soul.
“I have no problem with that and the Legion is mostly composed of white men so you won’t have to worry about a thing down here with Southern Legion members.” Hendricks gawked out as he flashed a toothy grin while shaking Brooks hand.
For the Legion in Dixie, their members already had a low opinion on black people and some where even a part of their own subsects of Klan’s itself, so a partnership between them was in no way out of the question. Dixie to both groups, was about to rise again.
Chapter 6: Little Rebelious Dixie
Chapter 6 has arrived!
Chapter 6: Little Rebellious Dixie
In ol’ Dixie, the rivers flowed slowly through the cities as business tried to revitalize itself back to life. Citizens walked on the streets like normal, passing through dozens of Hoovervilles. Sometimes, a black person will get shot at by words from white Southerners, but it was all a normal part of the South.
Then suddenly in the morning of Atlanta, Georgia, drums were heard ringing across the streets, and citizens checking for the sound source found trademark pointed white hoods and robes began to get closer and closer. It was the KKK.
Photo of a KKK march in Atlanta, Georgia, 1933
This sight wasn’t unusual as the KKK down South was a cultural staple since Reconstruction. They were the vanguard for Southern Culture against the “tyranny” of Northern Liberals and black people. Some of the citizens continued to walk on, but some stayed to gaze at the march continuing on through the city streets as a way to distract themselves from the dullness of 30’s America. The watching crowds became uneasy however when they saw the Klansmen clutching rifles in their hands as they marched. This wasn’t normal. Many people began to speculate on why they are holding rifles. A lynching? Revenge killing? Intimidation? All of these guesses had one common thing attached to them. And that was the victims would always be a black person. This murmuring continued among the crowds until a black man asked across the street in front of the march by accident. And then…
BAM!
The man was instantly knocked out with a butt of the rifle. Blood pooled from his mouth and head as he planted to the ground and as his body was kicked away by the Klansmen, blood following his body as it formed a decrepit crimson arc on the pavement. The crowd was stunned at this action. The white people may have not liked the common black person, but they also didn’t want to get in the crossfires of violence that the klansmen were parading. So they quickly dispersed into alleyways and stores, intentionally leaving behind the black citizens in the crowds as human shields. The black men and women weren’t amused by this and tried to frantically run away from the impending chaos. Many weren’t lucky as the klansmen immediately began to open fire on the citizens, sending warm blood spraying across the roads and sidewalks.
Police nearby were startled by the sounds as an obvious gunfight was happening. They weren’t too concerned at first, thinking that this was another case of African American “aggression”. They strolled to the area, expecting a simple lecturing to the white people and arrests to the “savage” blacks. However, when they arrived, they met an unexpected surprise. The Klansmen weren’t just Klansmen, they were joined by the American Legion. The Legion and Klansmen proceeded to open fire on the police along with the blacks. Chaos followed in Atlanta as it descended into the Battle of Atlanta.
The Legion once again followed the same steps as they did in the rest of the cities across the nation for overthrowing the governments of America. This time however, the Legion along with the KKK also targeted African American areas, resulting in bloody massacres on the level of the Tulsa Race Massacre. A genocidal purge was instigated in these cities as women, men, and children were all shot due to their skin color. Houses and businesses were burned down due to being owned by black people. Some African Americans tried to fight back, but their attempts were in vain as the Legion and KKK outnumbered and outgunned them.
Image of the Atlanta Race Massacre as Black owned apartments burned to ashes
Meanwhile in the rest of the white dominated areas of the cities, a power struggle once again began. In South Carolina, the American Legion and KKK managed to gain a foothold control over the rural areas of the state as many in the state were perfectly fine with their vitriolic rhetoric against African Americans, however many white South Carolinian's still opposed them due to the Legion’s rhetoric against FDR, which led to a stalemate between the 2 sides. Meanwhile in the rest of the cities, the technological might of the National Guardsmen began to arrive as planes, tanks, and even navy ships began to arrive to contain the outbreak in the cities. The government in DC meanwhile was planning. The Legion, while suffering from defeats, was still having some level of power enough to have a secession state and potential full conventional 2nd American Civil War in America. The Federal Government worked with the army to establish a plan to destroy the Legion rebellion. Operation Red Hawk, was underway.
National Guard Battle Planes flying during the Battle of Tampa
Chapter 6: Little Rebellious Dixie
In ol’ Dixie, the rivers flowed slowly through the cities as business tried to revitalize itself back to life. Citizens walked on the streets like normal, passing through dozens of Hoovervilles. Sometimes, a black person will get shot at by words from white Southerners, but it was all a normal part of the South.
Then suddenly in the morning of Atlanta, Georgia, drums were heard ringing across the streets, and citizens checking for the sound source found trademark pointed white hoods and robes began to get closer and closer. It was the KKK.
Photo of a KKK march in Atlanta, Georgia, 1933
This sight wasn’t unusual as the KKK down South was a cultural staple since Reconstruction. They were the vanguard for Southern Culture against the “tyranny” of Northern Liberals and black people. Some of the citizens continued to walk on, but some stayed to gaze at the march continuing on through the city streets as a way to distract themselves from the dullness of 30’s America. The watching crowds became uneasy however when they saw the Klansmen clutching rifles in their hands as they marched. This wasn’t normal. Many people began to speculate on why they are holding rifles. A lynching? Revenge killing? Intimidation? All of these guesses had one common thing attached to them. And that was the victims would always be a black person. This murmuring continued among the crowds until a black man asked across the street in front of the march by accident. And then…
BAM!
The man was instantly knocked out with a butt of the rifle. Blood pooled from his mouth and head as he planted to the ground and as his body was kicked away by the Klansmen, blood following his body as it formed a decrepit crimson arc on the pavement. The crowd was stunned at this action. The white people may have not liked the common black person, but they also didn’t want to get in the crossfires of violence that the klansmen were parading. So they quickly dispersed into alleyways and stores, intentionally leaving behind the black citizens in the crowds as human shields. The black men and women weren’t amused by this and tried to frantically run away from the impending chaos. Many weren’t lucky as the klansmen immediately began to open fire on the citizens, sending warm blood spraying across the roads and sidewalks.
Police nearby were startled by the sounds as an obvious gunfight was happening. They weren’t too concerned at first, thinking that this was another case of African American “aggression”. They strolled to the area, expecting a simple lecturing to the white people and arrests to the “savage” blacks. However, when they arrived, they met an unexpected surprise. The Klansmen weren’t just Klansmen, they were joined by the American Legion. The Legion and Klansmen proceeded to open fire on the police along with the blacks. Chaos followed in Atlanta as it descended into the Battle of Atlanta.
The Legion once again followed the same steps as they did in the rest of the cities across the nation for overthrowing the governments of America. This time however, the Legion along with the KKK also targeted African American areas, resulting in bloody massacres on the level of the Tulsa Race Massacre. A genocidal purge was instigated in these cities as women, men, and children were all shot due to their skin color. Houses and businesses were burned down due to being owned by black people. Some African Americans tried to fight back, but their attempts were in vain as the Legion and KKK outnumbered and outgunned them.
Image of the Atlanta Race Massacre as Black owned apartments burned to ashes
Meanwhile in the rest of the white dominated areas of the cities, a power struggle once again began. In South Carolina, the American Legion and KKK managed to gain a foothold control over the rural areas of the state as many in the state were perfectly fine with their vitriolic rhetoric against African Americans, however many white South Carolinian's still opposed them due to the Legion’s rhetoric against FDR, which led to a stalemate between the 2 sides. Meanwhile in the rest of the cities, the technological might of the National Guardsmen began to arrive as planes, tanks, and even navy ships began to arrive to contain the outbreak in the cities. The government in DC meanwhile was planning. The Legion, while suffering from defeats, was still having some level of power enough to have a secession state and potential full conventional 2nd American Civil War in America. The Federal Government worked with the army to establish a plan to destroy the Legion rebellion. Operation Red Hawk, was underway.
National Guard Battle Planes flying during the Battle of Tampa
Chapter 7: Red Hawk
Chapter 7: Red Hawk
While America reeled in agony from the knife of the American Legion and radical KKK klans being jammed in its back, generals of America began to form a plan to push back against the uprising. One familiar General MacArthur began to formulate a plan to stamp out the Legion/Klans under the heel of America’s Army. Having seen the effectiveness of tanks and planes against the Legion’s men, MacArthur formulated a plan which entailed not annihilating the Legion through men, but machines instead. The plan was to utilize 460 of America’s M1917s against the Legion in every city and area they occupied and be spread out with the help of specialized armored trains. The planes would either help scout out the area for sabotagers to mark before rail bomings, or bomb artillery positions to save the tanks, and also mass kill Legion corps and vehicles with their tank allies. MacArthur knew the Legion had limited numbers of artillery and armored vehicles, so his plan was to destroy every last one of them with planes and tanks. This plan was approved by congress and FDR as a way to decisively win in the Troubles.
By December 20th, trains rattled across the tracks of America, carrying men, tanks, and ammo as it chugged on, while in rural areas planes ranging from nimble scouters, to medium attack/light bomber planes, and heavy bombers droned the skies of America. In the remaining cities occupied by the Legion in the plains, the militarized sections of the cities faced bombardments from heavy bombers, sending shells turning into fireworks as shrapnell flew in the skies along with bodies. The Legion was on high alert as the cities started to burn and they could hear the sounds of planes droning above them menacingly.
Image from the bombings of Missouri City
After the bombardments, the trains rumbled into the nearby stations near the cities of the Plains, killing a few men that tried to attack the trains along the way. Men and tanks poured out of the boxcars and flat carts as they faced the Legion. Intense firefights flashed across the cities, with airsupport providing assistance in destroying anti tank gun positions. MacArthur’s bet on the tanks managed to work as quarter pounder guns tore apart the Legion Trucks, and machine guns sprayed across the Legion men, creating blood splatters across the roads. As extra salt to the Legion’s wounds, citizens in the cities who had been under the Legion’s boot joined the army to overthrow the fascists from power. By December 23th, the American Legion had lost their grip on virtually every city in America and many either surrendered or died fighting.
In the more Rural Areas of America such as the West US and Appalachians, tanks were not used as primary weapons as they were seen as too cumbersome and unreliable to trek up the more bumpy and mountainous terrain. Planes and men were mainly used to loosen up the Legions strength. Attack planes ripped apart defensive positions of the Legion leaving them vulnerable to attacks. Meanwhile Army men and Marines wiped up the surviving Legion through repeated concentrated attacks on the weakened defensive positions. While the Legion used guerilla warfare on the army which helped bleed out the Army men, in 5 days since the beginning of Red Hawk, the Legion managed to lose control of the rural areas and the surviving Legion Men were arrested to be set on trial for treason.
Meanwhile, Dixie managed to face a different situation to the rest of the 2 fronts. It wasn’t as conventional and WW1-esque as the battles in the cities, but was neither as asymmetrical or slow as the warfare in the rural areas. The warfare in Dixie was fast, radically changing battlefronts, and consistent with short firefights. The Army arrived in Dixie as soon as the KKK and Legion did their uprising as conveniently Operation Red Hawk and the Dixie uprisings managed to coincide with each other, to the detriment of the Legion. Due to the Legion and KKK not managing to establish proper defenses, as soon as the Army came crashing down on them, they started to retreat in the manner of the Battle of DC. The artillery for the Legion was either not set to fire, or was already destroyed by the planes. Thanks to this, the Legion and KKK were completely open to getting massacred by the tanks and Doughboys of America’s Army. A retreat from the cities followed after these intense but short battles as the Legion/KKK tried to retreat to the forests and rural areas, however the army was quicker and managed to encircle these groups, causing mass surrenders. In the rural areas such as the Legion occupied areas of South Carolina, the army and Legion/KKK also fought with quick battles. The battlefront lines in these areas were constantly changing as either side tried to encircle the other to massacre them or make them surrender. The army actually managed to get whipped back by the Legion/KKK when it was just the Armyment fighting them. However when the tanks and planes came around, the Legion/KKK were quickly massacred by the unrelenting technology firing upon them.
A South Carolinian Farm which would be used as a battlefield
By December 25th, the Legion was on its heels and the KKK already was retreating into their headquarters and standing down. For the Army, it was time to cut off the head of the Legion in the place it all started, Alexandria…
While America reeled in agony from the knife of the American Legion and radical KKK klans being jammed in its back, generals of America began to form a plan to push back against the uprising. One familiar General MacArthur began to formulate a plan to stamp out the Legion/Klans under the heel of America’s Army. Having seen the effectiveness of tanks and planes against the Legion’s men, MacArthur formulated a plan which entailed not annihilating the Legion through men, but machines instead. The plan was to utilize 460 of America’s M1917s against the Legion in every city and area they occupied and be spread out with the help of specialized armored trains. The planes would either help scout out the area for sabotagers to mark before rail bomings, or bomb artillery positions to save the tanks, and also mass kill Legion corps and vehicles with their tank allies. MacArthur knew the Legion had limited numbers of artillery and armored vehicles, so his plan was to destroy every last one of them with planes and tanks. This plan was approved by congress and FDR as a way to decisively win in the Troubles.
By December 20th, trains rattled across the tracks of America, carrying men, tanks, and ammo as it chugged on, while in rural areas planes ranging from nimble scouters, to medium attack/light bomber planes, and heavy bombers droned the skies of America. In the remaining cities occupied by the Legion in the plains, the militarized sections of the cities faced bombardments from heavy bombers, sending shells turning into fireworks as shrapnell flew in the skies along with bodies. The Legion was on high alert as the cities started to burn and they could hear the sounds of planes droning above them menacingly.
Image from the bombings of Missouri City
After the bombardments, the trains rumbled into the nearby stations near the cities of the Plains, killing a few men that tried to attack the trains along the way. Men and tanks poured out of the boxcars and flat carts as they faced the Legion. Intense firefights flashed across the cities, with airsupport providing assistance in destroying anti tank gun positions. MacArthur’s bet on the tanks managed to work as quarter pounder guns tore apart the Legion Trucks, and machine guns sprayed across the Legion men, creating blood splatters across the roads. As extra salt to the Legion’s wounds, citizens in the cities who had been under the Legion’s boot joined the army to overthrow the fascists from power. By December 23th, the American Legion had lost their grip on virtually every city in America and many either surrendered or died fighting.
In the more Rural Areas of America such as the West US and Appalachians, tanks were not used as primary weapons as they were seen as too cumbersome and unreliable to trek up the more bumpy and mountainous terrain. Planes and men were mainly used to loosen up the Legions strength. Attack planes ripped apart defensive positions of the Legion leaving them vulnerable to attacks. Meanwhile Army men and Marines wiped up the surviving Legion through repeated concentrated attacks on the weakened defensive positions. While the Legion used guerilla warfare on the army which helped bleed out the Army men, in 5 days since the beginning of Red Hawk, the Legion managed to lose control of the rural areas and the surviving Legion Men were arrested to be set on trial for treason.
Meanwhile, Dixie managed to face a different situation to the rest of the 2 fronts. It wasn’t as conventional and WW1-esque as the battles in the cities, but was neither as asymmetrical or slow as the warfare in the rural areas. The warfare in Dixie was fast, radically changing battlefronts, and consistent with short firefights. The Army arrived in Dixie as soon as the KKK and Legion did their uprising as conveniently Operation Red Hawk and the Dixie uprisings managed to coincide with each other, to the detriment of the Legion. Due to the Legion and KKK not managing to establish proper defenses, as soon as the Army came crashing down on them, they started to retreat in the manner of the Battle of DC. The artillery for the Legion was either not set to fire, or was already destroyed by the planes. Thanks to this, the Legion and KKK were completely open to getting massacred by the tanks and Doughboys of America’s Army. A retreat from the cities followed after these intense but short battles as the Legion/KKK tried to retreat to the forests and rural areas, however the army was quicker and managed to encircle these groups, causing mass surrenders. In the rural areas such as the Legion occupied areas of South Carolina, the army and Legion/KKK also fought with quick battles. The battlefront lines in these areas were constantly changing as either side tried to encircle the other to massacre them or make them surrender. The army actually managed to get whipped back by the Legion/KKK when it was just the Armyment fighting them. However when the tanks and planes came around, the Legion/KKK were quickly massacred by the unrelenting technology firing upon them.
A South Carolinian Farm which would be used as a battlefield
By December 25th, the Legion was on its heels and the KKK already was retreating into their headquarters and standing down. For the Army, it was time to cut off the head of the Legion in the place it all started, Alexandria…
Chapter 8: The Lion's Den
Chapter 8: The Lion’s Den
Alexandria, Virginia: December 25th, 1933
Private Donelly was scared shitless. As the truck carrying him volleyed down the streets of Alexandria, Donelly had an anxiety that was only growing more and more stronger. There was no way a masculine macho man act or another round of singing Johnny Come’s Marching Home would loosen his nerves. He was heading to the Lion’s Den of the Legion and he knew full well that this was most likely going to be a tough battle. He had heard horror stories from his fellow comrades of how the Legion fought like hell around Potomac and the bridge connecting Alexandria and DC. He saw survivors of the previous battles roam next to him. They were adorned with chopped off legs, ripped arms, and half of their faces bandaged.
Donnelly clutched his rifle tighter to his chest as he saw the buildings towering over his trucks disappear and be replaced with a gray sky blanketing the area with only the sun acting as a contrast to the dull colors. The trucks rolled into the rural areas neighboring Alexandria, replacing the concrete road with dirt roads as the trucks entered a deciduous forest. Lush green trees passed by Donnelly and his comrades, giving him a sense of relief as the beautiful nature distracted him from the imminent battle that awaited him. After what seemed like 10 minutes, Donnelly’s worst fears were finally facing him physically. The trucks had finally arrived at Camp MacGuire. The camp's barracks and wooden headquarters were in full view. Trouble was already in his vision as he saw Legion soldiers marching around the camp. They suddenly snapped their necks to face the trucks as their combustion noises gave away their presence. Donnelly sighed as the battle approached him, with the truck screeching to a halt.
Fucking Fascists tearing apart the Union,
Donnelly said to himself.
…this ends here. After this, home..
The thought gave Donnelly the push he oh so desperately needed to carry his body into battle. He and his comrades rushed out of the truck as the Legion fired rounds into it. Donnelly sprinted to the closet cover he could find, a towering stack of hay. With his Springfield 1903, he fired round after round into the line of Legion men, with his eyes swearing that his rounds took off a few fascist scum off the earth. The fascists weren’t docile and were pummeling Donelly and his comrades with their own rounds, and even a few grenades. However the Doughboys had the advantage of more men, which was surprising considering this was the base for the Legion, at least in the DC area. Donnely gained more courage as he stared at Legion men falling down one by one.
After a while, the line of Legion men was cut down to only a few men standing. With this revelation, he let out a breath and charged ahead towards the barracks. Bullets flew out his rifle towards the Legion men as he charged ahead, knocking out a few men as they fell with a thump. Donnelly’s comrades followed after, providing cover fire and a few joined Donnelly in his charge. A place of particular concern was especially important to the army, the Camp Headquarters. Allegedly from eyewitness sources, both civilians and army men, they saw Butler and his men retreat to the direction of Camp MacGuire. This meant that this camp may be the place Butler is hiding. Donnelly’s main objective now was to not only secure the camp, but to also finally apprehend the man who caused the madness to be unleashed in America. The Doughboys poured into the camps, pouching the remaining Legion men as bullets sprayed blood on the mud and bullet holes riddled the barracks.
The Doughboy’s marched towards the headquarters, boots hitting the mud with wet thuds. The sight of dead Legion men laying on the ground didn’t deter the Army men as they marched right towards the door of the main base of the camp. Donnelly was the one who was near the front along with their squad leader. The creeping fear of death started to seep back into Donnelly’s mind again as he neared the door. He brushed off these thoughts to the side however as he was at the front door. He convinced himself that everything would be alright, and that this moment of capturing Butler would land him as a hero. Donnelly took one more deep breath of courage as his squad leader blew out the door handle with his shotgun and kicked down the door.
This is it.
Donnelly thought to himself and he only yelled.
“PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK YOU TRAITOROUS PIECE OF SHI-”
His rant directed at Butler was cut short when a wall of putrid, rotting odor crashed into he and his comrades faces. The odor reeked of death, decaying flesh, and rotten meat. Donnelly immediately covered his mouth and noise to block off the smell, which seemed to work somewhat well enough to make the air in the room bearable to walk into. What Donnelly found in there however, was not what he expected, at all…
The room in the headquarters was a typical war room, equipped with a table covered by a map, back shelves holding military strategy books, and a few chairs for comfort, all adorned in a dark brown room with only a lightbulb giving light. The main focus of the room wasn’t the detail however, it was Butler himself. He was there, sitting on a chair behind the table rocked back. Only, his head was gone. Blood was splattered at the walls behind him along with skull and brain matter. The source of this gruesome scene was easily identifiable as a M1911 was held in his right hand. On the other hand was a folded piece of paper. Donnelly stepped into the room, trying hard not to think too much about the gruesome state of Butler, as he ripped the note from Butler’s stiff hand.
Donnelly began to read the note out loud so that all his comrades could see the reason why Butler made himself mentally to do something like this. The note was a ramble from Butler, lamenting at the failures of the Legion takeovers in the cities, how he had betrayed his own values and politics for nothing but to cause pain and suffering across America, and how he fully believes he sure as hell won’t go to heaven know, but still squeaked in a few begs for mercy. Donnelly and his men only thought of these as ramblings from a crazy madman who had gone insane after the Doughboy’s set the American Legion on the run. What mattered most to Donnelly, was that now the American Troubles were headed to a decisive end in favor of America. Sure it was anticlimactic, but he preferred that over a few more days, months, or years of the Troubles. What mattered now was that he know can go home. And that feeling was the most satisfying experience he ever had in his life.
Alexandria, Virginia: December 25th, 1933
Private Donelly was scared shitless. As the truck carrying him volleyed down the streets of Alexandria, Donelly had an anxiety that was only growing more and more stronger. There was no way a masculine macho man act or another round of singing Johnny Come’s Marching Home would loosen his nerves. He was heading to the Lion’s Den of the Legion and he knew full well that this was most likely going to be a tough battle. He had heard horror stories from his fellow comrades of how the Legion fought like hell around Potomac and the bridge connecting Alexandria and DC. He saw survivors of the previous battles roam next to him. They were adorned with chopped off legs, ripped arms, and half of their faces bandaged.
Donnelly clutched his rifle tighter to his chest as he saw the buildings towering over his trucks disappear and be replaced with a gray sky blanketing the area with only the sun acting as a contrast to the dull colors. The trucks rolled into the rural areas neighboring Alexandria, replacing the concrete road with dirt roads as the trucks entered a deciduous forest. Lush green trees passed by Donnelly and his comrades, giving him a sense of relief as the beautiful nature distracted him from the imminent battle that awaited him. After what seemed like 10 minutes, Donnelly’s worst fears were finally facing him physically. The trucks had finally arrived at Camp MacGuire. The camp's barracks and wooden headquarters were in full view. Trouble was already in his vision as he saw Legion soldiers marching around the camp. They suddenly snapped their necks to face the trucks as their combustion noises gave away their presence. Donnelly sighed as the battle approached him, with the truck screeching to a halt.
Fucking Fascists tearing apart the Union,
Donnelly said to himself.
…this ends here. After this, home..
The thought gave Donnelly the push he oh so desperately needed to carry his body into battle. He and his comrades rushed out of the truck as the Legion fired rounds into it. Donnelly sprinted to the closet cover he could find, a towering stack of hay. With his Springfield 1903, he fired round after round into the line of Legion men, with his eyes swearing that his rounds took off a few fascist scum off the earth. The fascists weren’t docile and were pummeling Donelly and his comrades with their own rounds, and even a few grenades. However the Doughboys had the advantage of more men, which was surprising considering this was the base for the Legion, at least in the DC area. Donnely gained more courage as he stared at Legion men falling down one by one.
After a while, the line of Legion men was cut down to only a few men standing. With this revelation, he let out a breath and charged ahead towards the barracks. Bullets flew out his rifle towards the Legion men as he charged ahead, knocking out a few men as they fell with a thump. Donnelly’s comrades followed after, providing cover fire and a few joined Donnelly in his charge. A place of particular concern was especially important to the army, the Camp Headquarters. Allegedly from eyewitness sources, both civilians and army men, they saw Butler and his men retreat to the direction of Camp MacGuire. This meant that this camp may be the place Butler is hiding. Donnelly’s main objective now was to not only secure the camp, but to also finally apprehend the man who caused the madness to be unleashed in America. The Doughboys poured into the camps, pouching the remaining Legion men as bullets sprayed blood on the mud and bullet holes riddled the barracks.
The Doughboy’s marched towards the headquarters, boots hitting the mud with wet thuds. The sight of dead Legion men laying on the ground didn’t deter the Army men as they marched right towards the door of the main base of the camp. Donnelly was the one who was near the front along with their squad leader. The creeping fear of death started to seep back into Donnelly’s mind again as he neared the door. He brushed off these thoughts to the side however as he was at the front door. He convinced himself that everything would be alright, and that this moment of capturing Butler would land him as a hero. Donnelly took one more deep breath of courage as his squad leader blew out the door handle with his shotgun and kicked down the door.
This is it.
Donnelly thought to himself and he only yelled.
“PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK YOU TRAITOROUS PIECE OF SHI-”
His rant directed at Butler was cut short when a wall of putrid, rotting odor crashed into he and his comrades faces. The odor reeked of death, decaying flesh, and rotten meat. Donnelly immediately covered his mouth and noise to block off the smell, which seemed to work somewhat well enough to make the air in the room bearable to walk into. What Donnelly found in there however, was not what he expected, at all…
The room in the headquarters was a typical war room, equipped with a table covered by a map, back shelves holding military strategy books, and a few chairs for comfort, all adorned in a dark brown room with only a lightbulb giving light. The main focus of the room wasn’t the detail however, it was Butler himself. He was there, sitting on a chair behind the table rocked back. Only, his head was gone. Blood was splattered at the walls behind him along with skull and brain matter. The source of this gruesome scene was easily identifiable as a M1911 was held in his right hand. On the other hand was a folded piece of paper. Donnelly stepped into the room, trying hard not to think too much about the gruesome state of Butler, as he ripped the note from Butler’s stiff hand.
Donnelly began to read the note out loud so that all his comrades could see the reason why Butler made himself mentally to do something like this. The note was a ramble from Butler, lamenting at the failures of the Legion takeovers in the cities, how he had betrayed his own values and politics for nothing but to cause pain and suffering across America, and how he fully believes he sure as hell won’t go to heaven know, but still squeaked in a few begs for mercy. Donnelly and his men only thought of these as ramblings from a crazy madman who had gone insane after the Doughboy’s set the American Legion on the run. What mattered most to Donnelly, was that now the American Troubles were headed to a decisive end in favor of America. Sure it was anticlimactic, but he preferred that over a few more days, months, or years of the Troubles. What mattered now was that he know can go home. And that feeling was the most satisfying experience he ever had in his life.
Last edited:
So guys, I am going to not be here for 10 hours. I am heading to Turkey with my family so I can't use my electronics. Will update the thread when I settle in Istanbul
So sorry you guys for being in hiatus. Jetlag and spending time with family has kept me from posting. The next chapter will be posted tomorrow I promise
Chapter 9: America's Healing
Sorry for taking a hiatus. I am trying to get back into writing in the remainder of my stay in Turkey so enjoy!
Chapter 9: America’s Healing
As a bittersweet Christmas Gift for the nation, the guns across America were finally allowed to cool as the American Troubles. Over 5,230 people died across the entire nation after the Troubles. Troops were stationed all across the affected cities of America, tending to the wounded, traumatized, and the returning refugees who returned to the cities. In congress, FDR sent out the Civilian Conservation Corps to rebuild these cities along with help from the Army Corps of Engineers. Lumber, bricks, and steel rolled across the train tracks as they headed to the cities of America. As the trains rolled into the stations, men of all shapes, colors, and sizes hauled them across cracked roads. Men helped bring the materials to the burnt out buildings, bringing up slightly collapsed buildings back to their original heights, repairing blown off holes to either walls or windows that were attacked by arterially, and paving roads that were riddled with craters and sandbags to move on from this painful memory.
Destroyed Buildings in St Louis, 1933
Families and individuals across America returned to their homes, relieved that the violence ended. Refugees that either escaped to more rural areas or even neighboring nations returned to their homes in hopes of retaining their old lives. The citizens tried to either acquire their old jobs, or get new ones as most of the cities suffered painful scars. While spending on presents was not as high around Christmas as a combination of both the Great Depression and the Troubles destroyed many families' savings, families across America still tried to make a normal Christmas for their children to distract them from the political chaos that managed to envelop America. These included handmade toys, hot meals provided by soldiers, and even makeshift Christmas Trees, which helped maintain a portion of their children’s innocence and youthful joyfulness.
In congress, replacement senators were filled for the 26 total congressmen that perished. 16/26 of these men were Democrats while the rest of them were Republicans. The origin states for all of them varied greatly and most of them weren’t very important or noteworthy. The only notable names that died were Huey Long, Hiram Johnson, Daniel A. Reed, and VP of FDR John Nance Garner. A majority of these congressmen were a part of the anti New Deal which cynically helped Roosevelt with his New Deal Agenda. Unfortunately, the death of his VP would potentially cause problems in congress as he would probably be left with no voice to communicate to congress for his New Deal, meaning he’d have to pick his VP carefully. The replacements would stand in their positions in congress until the elections of 1934 would rumble, meaning only a year for them unless they wanted to run for their slain congressmen’s seat. For FDR, he would see a poll boost as he was seen as a steady hand for America throughout the American Troubles and that gave him a boost of confidence for his New Deal even with the death of JNC, and FDR remained in high hopes as the violence finally ended.
Meanwhile down South, it had a weird atmosphere. The KKK were considered by many white Southerners to be protectors of the traditional Southern way of life, but now they had slapped them suddenly in the face. The state governments were pulling each other apart about what to do with the entire KKK organization as they were torn between keeping status quo to ensure the black populace wouldn't revolt, and punishing them for harboring terrorists. They chose the former however as the national KKK quickly went on damage control, claiming that the KKK groups that participated in the American Troubles were no good terrorists and that the organization would purge all sympathizers of the Legion. The KKK filled the news with photos and stories of them purging Legion sympathizers for their PR and in collaboration with Southern Politicians. This slightly helped the damage to their image in the eyes of the South, however many Southerners (Including Deep South ones) also supported federal investigation into purging Legionmen along with more police at KKK rallies. In the North however, the tune was different.
The North was outraged by the Troubles as the guns settled. FDR was personally popular with many Northerners and many didn’t appreciate the fact that a few fascists tried to kill him. They were even more displeased at the fact that KKK groups participated with the fascists, which greatly soured their reputation up north. This would invigorate civil rights activists in the North as they contrasted themselves as patriotic anti-fascists while the KKK were all traitorous fascists who hated democracy. This would help sow the seeds of civil rights in the North and would invigorate the coming civil right’s movement. In the meantime, the North majorly condemned the American Legion and the public clamor for a punishment to all. Mass hysteria also surrounded the public as fears of their friends, family, and strangers being fascists reached an all time high. The Silver Panic was beginning to go into full swing.
An Anti Fascist Rally in motion at a Community College
Chapter 9: America’s Healing
As a bittersweet Christmas Gift for the nation, the guns across America were finally allowed to cool as the American Troubles. Over 5,230 people died across the entire nation after the Troubles. Troops were stationed all across the affected cities of America, tending to the wounded, traumatized, and the returning refugees who returned to the cities. In congress, FDR sent out the Civilian Conservation Corps to rebuild these cities along with help from the Army Corps of Engineers. Lumber, bricks, and steel rolled across the train tracks as they headed to the cities of America. As the trains rolled into the stations, men of all shapes, colors, and sizes hauled them across cracked roads. Men helped bring the materials to the burnt out buildings, bringing up slightly collapsed buildings back to their original heights, repairing blown off holes to either walls or windows that were attacked by arterially, and paving roads that were riddled with craters and sandbags to move on from this painful memory.
Destroyed Buildings in St Louis, 1933
Families and individuals across America returned to their homes, relieved that the violence ended. Refugees that either escaped to more rural areas or even neighboring nations returned to their homes in hopes of retaining their old lives. The citizens tried to either acquire their old jobs, or get new ones as most of the cities suffered painful scars. While spending on presents was not as high around Christmas as a combination of both the Great Depression and the Troubles destroyed many families' savings, families across America still tried to make a normal Christmas for their children to distract them from the political chaos that managed to envelop America. These included handmade toys, hot meals provided by soldiers, and even makeshift Christmas Trees, which helped maintain a portion of their children’s innocence and youthful joyfulness.
In congress, replacement senators were filled for the 26 total congressmen that perished. 16/26 of these men were Democrats while the rest of them were Republicans. The origin states for all of them varied greatly and most of them weren’t very important or noteworthy. The only notable names that died were Huey Long, Hiram Johnson, Daniel A. Reed, and VP of FDR John Nance Garner. A majority of these congressmen were a part of the anti New Deal which cynically helped Roosevelt with his New Deal Agenda. Unfortunately, the death of his VP would potentially cause problems in congress as he would probably be left with no voice to communicate to congress for his New Deal, meaning he’d have to pick his VP carefully. The replacements would stand in their positions in congress until the elections of 1934 would rumble, meaning only a year for them unless they wanted to run for their slain congressmen’s seat. For FDR, he would see a poll boost as he was seen as a steady hand for America throughout the American Troubles and that gave him a boost of confidence for his New Deal even with the death of JNC, and FDR remained in high hopes as the violence finally ended.
Meanwhile down South, it had a weird atmosphere. The KKK were considered by many white Southerners to be protectors of the traditional Southern way of life, but now they had slapped them suddenly in the face. The state governments were pulling each other apart about what to do with the entire KKK organization as they were torn between keeping status quo to ensure the black populace wouldn't revolt, and punishing them for harboring terrorists. They chose the former however as the national KKK quickly went on damage control, claiming that the KKK groups that participated in the American Troubles were no good terrorists and that the organization would purge all sympathizers of the Legion. The KKK filled the news with photos and stories of them purging Legion sympathizers for their PR and in collaboration with Southern Politicians. This slightly helped the damage to their image in the eyes of the South, however many Southerners (Including Deep South ones) also supported federal investigation into purging Legionmen along with more police at KKK rallies. In the North however, the tune was different.
The North was outraged by the Troubles as the guns settled. FDR was personally popular with many Northerners and many didn’t appreciate the fact that a few fascists tried to kill him. They were even more displeased at the fact that KKK groups participated with the fascists, which greatly soured their reputation up north. This would invigorate civil rights activists in the North as they contrasted themselves as patriotic anti-fascists while the KKK were all traitorous fascists who hated democracy. This would help sow the seeds of civil rights in the North and would invigorate the coming civil right’s movement. In the meantime, the North majorly condemned the American Legion and the public clamor for a punishment to all. Mass hysteria also surrounded the public as fears of their friends, family, and strangers being fascists reached an all time high. The Silver Panic was beginning to go into full swing.
An Anti Fascist Rally in motion at a Community College
Thank you! I'm trying to keep this TL updated while on vacation, but updates will be slightly less frequent because I am spending time with family.
I have returned from vacation. Updates will come soon, however I'm recovering from jetlag so they will come after I get my sleep schedule back to normal