YANKEE STADIUM: THE LAST RALLY

YANKEE STADIUM: THE LAST RALLY
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Downtown Philadelphia celebrates, 1945

It was amid the thunderous applause of tens of thousands of onlookers that President Joseph Steele strode upon the stage that day. It was November 10, 1945. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the weather in Philadelphia was impeccable for the time of year--abnormally so. Yankee Stadium was once again host to a mass rally, the last rally Joe Steele would ever attend. The frail and sickly dictator strode to the podium one more time and raised his arm in salute to the crowd. The time was high noon, and the bells of Philadelphia and the First Church peeled and joined the raucous cacophony of the people. Boys hung on light posts, waving small flags. Small children sat atop their fathers' shoulders, trying to take a peek at the great man who was leading the country through such a turbulent and bloody period. The war in South America dragged on, sapping the youth of America by the day, little by little. But even with morgues full of corpses in most cities across the vast continental empire, the people still cheered, praising the name of their supposedly benevolent overlord.

Ryan Harvey Hendrick and Chuck Oswald stood behind the podium, flanked by ORRA honor guards. The stage was located directly over the pitcher's mound, just as it had been all those years before, in 1927, when Steele had first purged the Business Clans of subversive and un-American activities. That was almost twenty years ago now. Patton was moldering in a grave, tens of thousands of men were now slain in war, the Soot Storms had ravaged the Southwest, and the Starry Wisdom Revolt had been crushed in the nastiest street fighting on American soil since the Great American War of the 19th century. For years, going on a decade, the American armed forces had put the Southern Continent to the sword, burning, pillaging, conquering, and raping as they went. But still the fighting dragged on. Europa had the atomic bomb, the Illuminists were busy infighting amongst themselves, and the New Holy Roman Empire was busy crushing revolts in the Balkans and raging against Caesar and the Second Avignon Papacy. The few Americans who were brave enough to protest the war and its massive casualty count were shuttled off to labor camps or worse. All this had occurred under Steele's watchful, ever-present eyes. Desperately fighting off tuberculosis with every cell of his living body, he sought to establish the New United States as a total and supreme power in the hemisphere. To achieve Manifest Destiny, the dream of every true American since the rise of Fundamentalism, was what propelled his body forward.

The sun made his snow-white pompadour look almost translucent. His skin looked pale and deathly. Just to move his joints up the few steps of the stage nearly caused him to pass out, but firm handshakes from Oswald and Hendrick had served to hide his frail condition at least somewhat and kept him stable on his feet. He made sure adequate water was prepared for himself and quickly downed an entire glass as the crowd began to quiet down, awaiting his speech. With a sharp inhale, he began his last public speech.

"My friends, all hail! My countrymen, all hail! My brothers in Jev, all hail! I come to you today to not only offer my sincerest thanks for the your dedication to Manifest Destiny, not only to express my admiration of your steel wills in the steadfast and devout cause in which we are currently endeavoring to bring to a victorious end, and not only to raise my hand in salute at the purity of your bodily fluids, the sanctity of your souls, and the iron fortitude of your Pinnacle blood. I come to you today to tell you that the dawn of a new era is at hand. The devilish and daemoniac subhuman villains of the Southern Continent, enemies of Jev and all that is proper and holy, are nearly defeated. And today, at 5:45 this morning, we dealt the final and devastating blow to the so-called Neutrality Pact, the most disgusting and mongrelized foe we have ever faced.

"At 5:45 this morning, the lands of the Southern Continent shook, the sky cracked, and the enemy hosts wept and begged for mercy, but on this day there was no mercy to be found. Just as the Walls of Jericho came crashing down, just as Sodom and Gomorrah were turned into salt, just as the enemies of Constantine fled before the sign of the Cross, and just as the villains of 1776 fled before the armies of Washington, a beautiful, apocalyptic and epic event in the history of the Pinnacle Race has occurred. At 5:45 this morning, the enemies of the Chosen Ones were turned like unto glass with Holy Fire, fulfilling the promises of the Angel Njarl and the Prophet Burr. At 5:45 this morning, I am proud to announce we successfully dropped our first Peacemaker Bomb upon the iniquitous and damnable city of Rio de Janeiro, headquarters of the vile Pactists, and decapitating most of the leadership of the enemy armies.

"Rio de Janeiro is home to almost two million Papist, Eduist, Beutelist, Wormist, and Illuminist subhuman slag. This bomb, unlike those employed by the insidious Avignon Idolaters in Paris, is what is called by our bright and loyal scientists an 'airburst' weapon. Rather than detonating on impact, this device and gift from Jev explodes like a shrapnel shell over the target, spreading radioactive death and doom over a vast area. Our scientists estimate that, currently, the Neutrality casualty count stands at 200,000 from this first taste of our total and complete commitment to absolute conquest. That alone would serve to cripple the Neutrality Pact's governance once and for all, but this country, and its President, do not spare any expenses with this matter. At 8:33 this morning, a second plane dropped another Peacemaker Bomb on the the infernal goblins in Rio. The city has been wiped from the map. Those who have survived this bombardment shall wish they had not in the coming days, as their skin begins to fall off in sheets, as they stagger across miles of rubble with eyes vaporized in their sockets, and as they form long lines at medical stations, under steady bombardment from our Aero Force and Navy. The Neutrality Pact's remaining naval forces had focused mostly around the city of Rio, wreaking havoc with our ships in the area. These ships are gone. We have total and complete control of the coast of this Hemisphere. No more supplies will be going into the Southern Continent from unscrupulous foreign subversives. No more bullets to shoot our sons, no more shells to lob at our convoys of wounded, and no more food to feed the ravenous Inferior hordes which lurk in the jungles. No more.

"I say this to the Neutrality Pact: lay down your arms. This military operation is coming to a close, and its outcome is no longer in any doubt, even in the far corners of Europe, Africa, and Asia. The international community shall learn to respect the total and complete control which we now exercise over the Western Hemisphere. America has succeeded, as it always shall. We didn't start this fight, when the falsely-named worm-tongued Neutrality Pact bombed our boys in Cuba. But we vowed to finish this fight, to avenge Port Pierce one thousand fold. Just as ever, the American people accepted this challenge, and now we can stand brave and tall in this, our finest hour. I say again to the Neutrality Pact: lay down your arms.

"Your leadership is slain, your citizens are ash, and the end of the line has come. To quote one of my favorite Kissimmee films, High Noon at Cromwell Gulch, 'there ain't room in this town for the two of us.' Give up and submit to American occupation and we promise to spare your lives from any further suffering. Give up and lay down your arms and let this long nightmare you have brought upon yourself fade mercifully into the annals of history, a history that will not long remember the name of the Neutrality Pact as anything other than a footnote in the history of Manifest Destiny, an obstacle presented to us by the Lord that the Yankee nation overcame. To the fighters and citizens of the Neutrality Pact, lay down your arms or the skies will again peel with the sound of American planes dropping more Peacemaker, until we have erased your very last city from the face of the planet!

"To the people of the Republican Union, to the soldiers of our innumerable conquering Legions, to the sailors aboard our mighty warships, to the pilots flying like streaks of lightning across the sky, I say 'well done.' To the butchers in the corner stores, to the teachers in the classrooms, to the parents in the homes, to the infants in the cribs, I say 'well done.' Well done, my good and faithful people! And as my own life shall in all likelihood soon be over, as I can feel my energy winding down, I can sleep at night and some day meet my maker and hear the same words: 'Well done, my good and faithful servant.' Since 1914, I have led this nation in its pursuit of all that is good and right. For over thirty years I have been your President and Atheling. But for over 30 years you have been more than citizens to me, you have been family.

"The Blind Christian Gentleman, my personal mentor as a child, once said of the sacrifices made by his sons, the Holy Order of the Sons of Tobias, 'I have lost more children than any man alive.' Indeed, 232 of his begotten loin-fruit perished in that devastating conflict known as the Great World War. Today, I understand fully his pain. But today, I believe the pain with which I am wracked is far greater. I think of every patriotic young man who has laid down his life in Manifest Climax not only when I wake up, but as I drift into haunted sleep. I pray for their souls hourly, as well as the continued safety and deliverance of those currently alive, well, and deployed. I beseech the Lord Jev every moment of every day to bring the final curtain down on this era, and I beg for the sun to rise on a Pinnacle Future--an American Millennium. A true New Jerusalem. And for this glorious new beginning I offer my humble and heartfelt thanks to my sons, to my daughters, to my children... the American People.

"Many use the term 'Atheling' as merely a title describing me as head of the Manifest Destiny Party. But many forget its true meaning. Atheling comes from an ancient Anglo-Saxon term describing the highest prince under the king. I am no king. There is only one throne to which an American should bow, and that is to the alabaster throne of Jev Almighty, and I am but his humble servant, a puppet on his strings. But I am thankful that, as his prince, I was chosen, like an Old Testament Judge, to lead the Chosen People, the Pinnacle Race, into this victory which we can now claim. Every hour of sleep lost, every minute of anguish as I poured over casualty rolls, and every second I felt a hot tear descend my cheek, was worth it. Every casualty was worth it. Every hero and patriot-saint who has fallen, fell because it was worth it. They knew why they died, as do we all. In the AFC New Testament is a favorite verse of mine, John 15:13. 'Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his people.' Every single moment of pain that you have all shared with me these past nine years of this operation... was worth it.

"This may be my last address the good Lord Jev sees fit to enable me to deliver to you. My body is destroyed. But my spirit is strong! My hair is white. But the future is golden! My eyes are weak. But my vision has never been more acute! My health is waning. But I say unto you, my children, I will be with you, even always! Today, this special day, a day of jubilee, marks not the end of violence in the Southern Continent, for no doubt the demons will hold to the last in some sectors. But the end is nigh! The end, this glorious end, is in sight, and we need only one last full measure of devotion to drive the forces of Satan from our midst. Today, this special day... I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. All hail the victory! All hail the glorious dead! All hail the American people! All hail Jev, our almighty Creator! All hail! All hail! One last time, all hail!"

The reaction of the crowd was something not seen since the beginning of Operation Manifest Climax. Sheer pandemonium swept the stadium as Steele bowed like a Venetian opera performer. ORRA troops fought like mad to keep the crowds under control, but they overpowered them, even trampling some in a mad dash onto the playing field. Tens of thousands of cheering, screaming, berserk citizens pushed their way to the stage, desperately grasping to shake the hand of President Steele. Oswald, Hendrick, Nixon, and several other high-ranking officials, as well as more honor guards, attempted to beat the crowd back, but Steele waved them back. In the only breach of decorum since his Presidency began, in the only moment of real happiness he had felt in decades, Joseph Michael Custer-Steele was lifted from the planks of the platform over the pitcher's mound and onto the shoulders of the crowd. Fireworks exploded overhead, a red, white, and blue cavalcade. Flags, thousands of flags, as far as the eye could see, were whipped back and forth as the crowds reached a fever pitch of mania. They had sacrificed so much, for so long, and now the end seemed to be at hand.

Joseph Michael Custer-Steele for so long feared assassination and subversion, never trusting anyone, not even himself. At the same stadium that made his paranoia famous, he let himself be free one final time. They carried him out the stadium gates and out onto Independence Avenue. Onlookers who had been listening via talkieboxes at home and in their autos joined the celebration, with the mobs soon numbering over one million. One million American citizens, desperate for happiness, famous for paranoia, partied for the first time in years. Men and women drove by in Rollarites and Colonel Fords waving flags out their windows and honking their horns musically. Groups of friends at taverns across the city began singing "Auld Lang Syne" and "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and bartenders declared everything was on the house.

"Not a dry eye in the house tonight at Yankee Stadium, as President Steele delivered what he claims is possibly his last address, in the face of his waning health. After announcing America has launched its first atomic attacks on the Neuties and decapitated most of the Pact's leadership, his speech reached an epic crescendo that would make Beethoven's orchestra blush. A million men carried our President and Atheling on their shoulders down Independence Avenue, Liberty Lane, and Crawford Way to the Presidential Mansion. America, we have been through hell, but a brighter future is coming. One lit by the glory of victory and the unstoppable Peacemaker Bombs!"

- WUSN Metropolis 10.50

"AS INFEES REEL FROM PEACEMAKER BOMBS, PREZ CELEBRATES PENULTIMATE VICTORY!"

- Trinity City Examiner headline

"YANKS CELEBRATE MURDER OF THOUSANDS WITH DEBAUCHED PARTY FOR THE AGES!"

- Dublin Gazette headline


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Veterans of Manifest Climax watch celebrations break out in Boston, Massachusetts

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"Joe Steele's children" celebrate in New Antioch, Lewisiana

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Residents of the small Oregon town of Tarsus dance madly around a community bonfire following the nuclear destruction of Rio de Janeiro

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Veterans lead crowds in singing Yankee Doodle in Crawford, Chersonesus

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Silence falls across the ruins of Rio in this infamous snapshot
 
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I'm horrified that RIo no longer exists, yet overjoyed that the war is all but over.

The suffering has only just begun though. I still stand by a NUSA collapse by the mid-70s just like in Classic, but how many South Americans won't make it to then? Despite the RU/NUSA having gotten efficient at genocide, this is still a continent with millions of native inhabitants with mountains and jungles for semi-permanent resistance to hide out in.

Not to mention, can the NUSN cover thousands of miles of coastline? Would there be a demobilization with the Climax having reached its climax if you will?
 
Second Avignon Papacy
I approve of that name.
The few Americans who were brave enough to protest the war and its massive casualty count were shuttled off to labor camps or worse.
They were very brave indeed.
I am proud to announce we successfully dropped our first Peacemaker Bomb upon the iniquitous and damnable city of Rio de Janeiro, headquarters of the vile Pactists, and decapitating most of the leadership of the enemy armies.
Hell.

Those who have survived this bombardment shall wish they had not in the coming days, as their skin begins to fall off in sheets, as they stagger across miles of rubble with eyes vaporized in their sockets, and as they form long lines at medical stations, under steady bombardment from our Aero Force and Navy.
I would like to compose a Brazilian version of Vachel Lindsay's
"Listen to the yell of Leopold's ghost,
Burning in Hell for his hand-maimed host.
Hear how the demons chuckle and yell,
Cutting his hands off, down in Hell."

talking about Steel having his eyes burnt out but I'm not a good enough poet. I admit a morbid curiosity about the formal surrenders though.
Give up and submit to American occupation and we promise to spare your lives from any further suffering.
Merda. Horseshit.
Joseph Michael Custer-Steele for so long feared assassination and subversion, never trusting anyone, not even himself. At the same stadium that made his paranoia famous, he let himself be free one final time.
Did... did Joseph Michael Custer-Steele just get a better happy ending than many tv show characters?
 
.

Did... did Joseph Michael Custer-Steele just get a better happy ending than many tv show characters?

Oh, he's not dead yet. *Wink wink*

On the agenda:

Next chapter will likely be death of Steele.

Then Project Peacemaker, telling the complete story since Goldstein kidnapped the Dutch atomic scientist. There is a nutso story I have drafted involving that.

Then a fairly detailed report of Manifest Climax in review with rough casualty estimates and key moments that haven't been covered yet.
 
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You know, Steele's speech almost made me cry. Then came the rest of the chapter...and I have to admit it, it was horrifying. The main war may be almost over, but it'll sure as hell turn into a long guerilla the likes of which the world has never seen before. I truly feel sorry for South America.
 
Next chapter will likely be death of Steele.
Will there be any shoutouts to the movie of a similar name?
View attachment 583743 (credit @raffaele gaggioli ?)
Then a fairly detailed report of Manifest Climax in review with rough casualty estimates and key moments that haven't been covered yet.
I'll be curious to see how closely it lines up to the math I did back in the day.
Some tentative math about Operation Manifest Climax with population numbers from 1939 OTL
which doesn't take into account Japan.
 
The world ending in nuclear war is better than letting the psychopaths in philladelphia win, they are unhinged and insane, looking down at the rest of humanity as "inferior".
 
The double nuking of Rio seems excessive but also very in character for this America. I look forward to seeing its ruins annexed, renamed something like Steeleport and a giant statue to the Atheling on a particular hill.

I wouldn’t be surprised if a few Neutral Pact generals took Steele up on that offer in exchange for being allowed to rule over their own small fiefdoms. Anything below Brazil gets slapped with the label Special Administration Zone, stick a figurehead American governor here and there, annex Tierra del Fuego, and let the Neuties in the south have fun oppressing each other while NUSA digests the north without overextending themselves.
 
Damn…I think in this chapter you can really see how charismatic Steele is. Obviously the man’s insane and evil but he’s got a major way with words and in a world where the country is so thoroughly indoctrinated it’s easy to see how these words could provoke so much revelry.
 
I must say, it would've been a really deserving end to Steele if the crowd hoisting him up accidentally dropped him and Steele died of blunt head trauma. Am embarrassing death in his only moment of happiness.

Well written as always Napo. 👍
 
To be honest, the imagery of millions of Americans gleefully dancing in the streets celebrating the mass murder and extermination of entire nations terrifies me more than Steele or Oswald ever could. Even if NUSA were to fall some sort of denazification process could never hope to succeed due to generations of indoctrination and arrogance.
 
Great Update! I can't wait to have Madness Che Guevara becoming a South American Resistance-Guerrilla-Terrorist Leader, NUSA's Public Enemy Number One and Oswald's Scapegoat
 
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