1947-
"Things may have been different." The President of the United States thought to himself looking over reports now flooding in from Europe. "Things may have been different if we had focused more on Europe's problems." Another stack of papers landed on his desk, or beside it rather, there was no longer much room on top of the desk itself. "Things may have been different had the Europeans stopped Hitler in 38, or really pushed in 39." He glanced up over the papers in his hand. The Oval Office was full of men and women going over reports, talking in hushed voices, exchanging glances. "Things may have been different had Churchill been taken seriously." Cordell Hull muttered something under his breath and went pale before turning to the next page. "Things may have been different had Patton's career survived North Africa." The President dropped his report, and rubbed at his eyes. He had been reading nothing but these reports for the last three days. He sighed when as if on cue more papers, more stacks of papers were brought into the office. "Things may have been different had Ike not disappeared like so many other young men and women into the waters of the Atlantic." He slammed a fist down hard on the Resolute desk. His other fist resting just under his nose. He turned looking out at the wider world, the afternoon was wonderful, he could hear the birds, and even wind in the air through a small open window, letting cool air breath life into the cramped stuffy office.
"Things may have been different...." He started. Then standing he adjusted his suit brushing it flat with his hands. He turned to face the men and women who were now all simply watching. Watching him, expecting him to say something uplifting. That's what Franklin would have done. But he wasn't Franklin. "Things may have been different, but they aren't." He gestured to the papers that made a fair resemblance of New York in the US executive office. "The war with Hitler is just about over it's fair to say. Europe will be out from under the Nazi jackboot in a month, at the latest. No thanks to us." The room was silent, a funeral would have been more lively, would have had a better atmosphere. "Stalin's tanks rolled into Paris three days ago, hardly a shot being fired." Reports had said that the French had flocked to the Soviet troops singing le Marseillaise and waving the Tri-colour and Soviet Flags, some simply waving red sheets instead. And of course why not? The Soviets had freed the rest of Europe, people were eating again. Liberation day.
"There's no-" Hull started before clearing his throat. "There are reports of German soldiers, and SS crossing the boarder into Spain, operating out of the Pyrenees. There's no sign that Stalin wont simply enter Spain to stop them. It would be an excuse anyway." Joseph E. Davies, ambassador to the USSR nodded in reply.
"It would fit Russia's way of thinking to push all the way to Lisbon if I'm honest. Less, less minimises that way." He twisted his cap in his hands as if in frustration at the lack of any power to act before Stalin. Truman simply stood there, resolute.
"We'll have to do everything we can to help England. Support them with their troubles in Ireland. The same will go for Norway, Sweden, and Finland... Finland most of all. The Turks and Arabs will be another matter all together. That region could be a catastrophe unless we're very careful." He looked at another much smaller pile of reports. Asia had gone much better than Europe had. The Soviets had been occupied in Europe, going it alone. The US now occupied the whole of Japan, Korea, and jointly occupied several regions of China. The former colonial holdings being tended to by what was left of their European masters, and the Australians. French South East Asia was a mess, and looked to remain that way for a long time to come. India was on the brink of a number of different cliffs, and the US would likely have to help the UK intervene their soon enough.
"The war is over Gentlemen." Truman said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The war is over and we need to start looking a head. I want all these papers out of this office, and ideas for our next move before the sun sets." Suddenly the office was a blur of hurried activity. The light mummer of conversion growing into an excited, if not terrified hum. The President glanced once more out the window, at the beautiful summer's day. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. But Truman knew the size of the storm on the horizon.
"Things may have been different." The President of the United States thought to himself looking over reports now flooding in from Europe. "Things may have been different if we had focused more on Europe's problems." Another stack of papers landed on his desk, or beside it rather, there was no longer much room on top of the desk itself. "Things may have been different had the Europeans stopped Hitler in 38, or really pushed in 39." He glanced up over the papers in his hand. The Oval Office was full of men and women going over reports, talking in hushed voices, exchanging glances. "Things may have been different had Churchill been taken seriously." Cordell Hull muttered something under his breath and went pale before turning to the next page. "Things may have been different had Patton's career survived North Africa." The President dropped his report, and rubbed at his eyes. He had been reading nothing but these reports for the last three days. He sighed when as if on cue more papers, more stacks of papers were brought into the office. "Things may have been different had Ike not disappeared like so many other young men and women into the waters of the Atlantic." He slammed a fist down hard on the Resolute desk. His other fist resting just under his nose. He turned looking out at the wider world, the afternoon was wonderful, he could hear the birds, and even wind in the air through a small open window, letting cool air breath life into the cramped stuffy office.
"Things may have been different...." He started. Then standing he adjusted his suit brushing it flat with his hands. He turned to face the men and women who were now all simply watching. Watching him, expecting him to say something uplifting. That's what Franklin would have done. But he wasn't Franklin. "Things may have been different, but they aren't." He gestured to the papers that made a fair resemblance of New York in the US executive office. "The war with Hitler is just about over it's fair to say. Europe will be out from under the Nazi jackboot in a month, at the latest. No thanks to us." The room was silent, a funeral would have been more lively, would have had a better atmosphere. "Stalin's tanks rolled into Paris three days ago, hardly a shot being fired." Reports had said that the French had flocked to the Soviet troops singing le Marseillaise and waving the Tri-colour and Soviet Flags, some simply waving red sheets instead. And of course why not? The Soviets had freed the rest of Europe, people were eating again. Liberation day.
"There's no-" Hull started before clearing his throat. "There are reports of German soldiers, and SS crossing the boarder into Spain, operating out of the Pyrenees. There's no sign that Stalin wont simply enter Spain to stop them. It would be an excuse anyway." Joseph E. Davies, ambassador to the USSR nodded in reply.
"It would fit Russia's way of thinking to push all the way to Lisbon if I'm honest. Less, less minimises that way." He twisted his cap in his hands as if in frustration at the lack of any power to act before Stalin. Truman simply stood there, resolute.
"We'll have to do everything we can to help England. Support them with their troubles in Ireland. The same will go for Norway, Sweden, and Finland... Finland most of all. The Turks and Arabs will be another matter all together. That region could be a catastrophe unless we're very careful." He looked at another much smaller pile of reports. Asia had gone much better than Europe had. The Soviets had been occupied in Europe, going it alone. The US now occupied the whole of Japan, Korea, and jointly occupied several regions of China. The former colonial holdings being tended to by what was left of their European masters, and the Australians. French South East Asia was a mess, and looked to remain that way for a long time to come. India was on the brink of a number of different cliffs, and the US would likely have to help the UK intervene their soon enough.
"The war is over Gentlemen." Truman said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The war is over and we need to start looking a head. I want all these papers out of this office, and ideas for our next move before the sun sets." Suddenly the office was a blur of hurried activity. The light mummer of conversion growing into an excited, if not terrified hum. The President glanced once more out the window, at the beautiful summer's day. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. But Truman knew the size of the storm on the horizon.