World War III in May 1946

[Hairog]

Far Sight

Vasily had finally got the right parts for the captured Amerikosi radar set. He could see through the subterfuge of the Russian labels and such. It was American alright. Fine workmanship to be sure, but the newest Soviet sets he had worked on were not far behind in quality. Quality mattered at this stage of the war. Previously it was quantity but now the emphasis had been on excellence, at least in aviation and electronics. He had no idea of where all these obviously Western made electronic components were coming from but they were coming now at a faster and faster pace. He couldn’t believe that they had captured so many useful things. It was like someone went to the US and went on a shopping spree.

Crystal diodes, resistors, capacitors, vacuum tubes and relays were showing up by the thousands and when combined with the Russian knack for ingenuity born of scarcity, they were accomplishing some amazing things. The radar set he was tinkering with here in the forward base was just such a unit. It was a threefold improvement over the original Amerikosi unit he had started with. The range was remarkable and his scope was rapidly filling up with very fast moving blips. Yes they were blips and not blobs. Another vast improvement over the earlier models, he was forced to use. These new diodes were a wonder compared to what he had to work with before. We might not be able to make them yet but we most certainly knew how to use them to their greatest advantage.

The raid was not as big as yesterdays. “This is Vasily here. We have multiple and large formations of planes coming from the Southeast and they are being joined by others rising at a fast rate from near Yuksekova, Turkey. He had started to pick up something near Duhok, Turkey and the formation just kept on getting larger and larger as more planes were added. He was picking them up at nearly 400 km, really astounding progress with the new components that he was given to use.

He had spotted and sent out the warning about the turn to the north yesterday. I would think that today they would listen to him a little bit harder and not ignore his warnings like they did of a full 15 minutes on the previous raid. His immediate supervisor had passed the warning up but his superior had not and now he was on his way to Siberia from all accounts. He had actually been given a pair of his boots as a reward. They were excellent boots as well. He needed them here in this place with no heat near Dustan just over from the Turkish border. He hoped the Amerikosi could not detect his powerful radar or at least ignored it.

He and his generator and support team were almost dropped by parachute until cooler minds prevailed. The Stavka was so desperate to gain a few extra kilometers of early warning that he had almost been pushed out of a plane instead of landing in a field. Say what you will, those little Po-2s planes still had a purpose and had ferried him and his men here to Meghri in no time.
He heard his commander relaying his sighting data to what sounded like Novikov himself. On the one hand he hoped not but on the other he was kind of proud that what he was doing was so important to the homeland. He only wished they had listened to him yesterday and maybe more could have been saved and more Amerikosi bombers shot down.

 

[Hairog]

“What the Hell”

The landing craft lifted a good 10 feet before it settled back down to where they could start to climb up the rope nets. Once you got on you had to move fast and climb at least 11 feet before the boat came up and knocked you in the water and you were crushed between two metal walls. Earl had seen that happen a few times.

“What the hell are we doing this for Corp? This is nuts. You look at any map and there is just no place that we are going to need to amphibious invade on our way to Moscow. This is FUBAR Corp. Day after day climbing up and down, pretending to invade some foreign shore. What a waste of time and my energy.

I interrogated dozens of Nazis after the war and not one of them made an amphibious assault on their way to the outskirts of Moscow. Maybe a few river crossings but nothing that involved real LCTs, LSTs, DUCKS and other all this other shit. It’s almost like they had to find a way to use all this equipment left over from the invasion of Japan or something. Sounds like something the Army would do. “We bought it so we have to use it” or some shit like that.”

“Shut up and climb Sims... here comes the wave and we don’t want you getting your pants wet now do we?”

Earl scrambled up a little faster although he knew he was high enough based on his previous couple of dozen climbs under similar circumstances. Hell he figured he had three feet to spare so he was not worried but he moved a little faster to shut the Corporal up.

Boy that guy was irritating. Is that how they pick corporals? You take the most irritating guy and put him in charge. Asshole! He knew how far the Goddamn boat was going to rise better than he did. That asshole missed the first 2 weeks of this shit and here he is telling me what to do.

Four weeks of going down the nets into the boats. Watching Jennings get seasick...every goddamn time… then we scramble out onto the rocky shore and shoot at imaginary Reds. The Navy lobs a few shells over our heads and we fix bayonets and charge off the beach and stab a few straw bales and dive into a ditch and get up and run up that same god damn hill. It was almost like they knew exactly where they were going to land and attack even now. How could they know that at this stage of the war?

He wished he could see the topo map the lieutenant was always looking at. Maybe that would give him a clue as to where in the world they were going to attack. Ah hell what did it matter all he had to do was to follow orders from guys like this asshole corporal.

“We have an extra treat for you clowns today...two climbs down the net and up again. Seems the Major didn’t like your cavalier attitude. He doesn’t think your serious enough. Serious enough to fight the commies and win and that’s all he cares about. All he cares about is winning.
NOW GET YOUR ASSES BACK ON THE NETS AND BACK IN THOSE BOATS! AND THIS
TIME DO IT SERIOUSLY”, the Corporal yells dripping with sarcasm …”or we’ll do it again.” All the non-coms start to yell at the same time. It’s all jumbled together but you know what they want so down you go and wait for the landing craft to rise up and then you climb down as fast as you can and wait again for it to come up and greet you like some deranged metal wave and if you time it right you don’t jump on your squad mate and you land without twisting your ankle or breaking anything and scramble out of the way of another falling squaddie and all the time trying to look “serious” for the major.

He can’t even see your face from up there where he’s standing. I can’t see his so he can’t see mine. Everything smells old and musty. All this equipment and even his uniform was in storage in some island in the Pacific and reeks of rotting vegetation and wet canvas. Jees there goes Jennings again right on time. Disgusting, how can you puke so much

 

[Hairog]

Moving On

Yeorgi was going home. He was leaving his trench near the creek with the desmans and was going back to his beloved Caucasus Mountains where he could also be around the little moles. Why had those creatures been put in only two places on earth and why had he been brought up in one and become a man in another. His part of the Pyrenees Line had not changed in months and he and his desmans have had a fine time of it but now it was time to move on and the rumor had it that his unit was going to be assigned to the Southern Front and was going to either march on the Levant or the oil fields in Iraq.

He was going to miss his dozen or so furry rodents he had watched for hours through his sniper scope but he knew that the area they were going to temporarily also had a good population of desmans for him to befriend. It was all that made this nightmare bearable. He had shot over 30 Americans and Spanish. A number of them looked like his cousins. He was having nightmares composed of exploding heads. You just can’t kill fellow human beings day after day watching them die by your hands close up through a sniper scope and not be affected.

He was not a natural born killer. He was just a good shot. He had natural abilities for hitting a target no matter if it was a piece of paper or a human head. Nine times out of ten if he could see it he could hit it. That didn’t mean that he enjoyed it or even felt proud of it. How “manly is it to kill someone while they are taking a shit or brushing their teeth. It was cowardly in his opinion but the commissar did not ask his opinion. He just wanted dead Amerikosi. He just wanted to take credit for Yeorgi’s record number of kills...kills...yes kills. That’s exactly what he was doing. He was killing some other father, son, brother or lover and for what?

Maybe if there were like the Germans who raped their way through the Ukraine and tortured their way to the gates of Moscow. How would his killing these 30 men stop the Amerikosi from dropping atomic bombs on his little village?

What was that idiot doing? Why didn’t his compatriots pull him down and under cover? Did they not care. Oh no the commissar sees him too and I have to kill him.. He knows I can see him. He knows I cannot miss at this distance. Shit! I have to do this.

“Nice shot comrade. That makes what 31 or 32?” “I lose track comrade commissar.”
“That’s ok Yeorgi I will keep track for you. I saw that one from my scope. Wonderful shot, just wonderful.”
“Thank you commissar.” Yeorgi said but he was thinking ...I’ll be seeing that in my nightmares tonight and for many nights to come. What was that idiot thinking? I was his fault and I had no choice, no choice. I had to take the shot it was so blatant an infraction of any kind of military discipline or even common sense even for a new person. What was that Amerikosi thinking?

Now I will be thinking about him for the rest of my life, thinking of how his head just exploded from the eyes downward. How the jaw just hung open and even twitched and how his body did not comprehend what had just happened to it. How it sat there for a few seconds before it toppled over. Yes he would be seeing this one forever, possibly every night over and over again. It would be mixed up with the many others but it would always be there, night after night in his nightmares.

 

[Hairog]

Suicide by Sniper

Bill had just got a “Dear John” letter from his high school sweetheart, his one and only. On top of that he had just lost his best friend Miller to a napalm attack. He couldn’t sleep and had been up for three days straight thinking about the hell he was living and how he just wanted it to stop. He wanted the pain and suffering he saw around him every day to just stop but he could do nothing about it.

He had fought starting on D-Day up until the end of the war and had seen horrible things but the new weapons that each side in this fight where using on each other was inhumane by any standard, especially napalm. He had a lifelong fear of fire anyway and to see your best friend consumed by fire in front of your eyes screaming for you to shoot him and stop the pain had just been too much. Combined with losing his girl…”his girl”, Jenny, it was just too much for him to take.

By letting the sniper take his life he would be able to give his mother some money from his life insurance policy. If he had just put gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger she would get nothing but if he just leaned a little bit further forward from his post on the wall he would be an easy target and knowing the skill of that commie sniper they had over there, he would be dead quite quickly and painlessly before his brain had time to register what happened.

All in all a good solution for his physical and mental pain that had become unbearable. First his father had been killed when his tractor rolled over him, leaving his ma to try and run the placeby herself. Jenny had come over to help and they had hired some drifter as a hired hand. Then Miller had been burned alive before his very eyes and the next day the letter from Jenny arrived telling him she was running away with the hired hand...it was all just too much for his 20 year old brain to handle and he had just leaned over a little bit too far knowing what would happen, and it did.

Whoever had killed, Jones and Edwards had just killed him. The last thing that went through his mind was the phrase “suicide by sniper” and that was it.

 

[Hairog]

Rene had never seen so many trucks. Trucks carrying both men and tanks and all headed East. He had concerns that the bridge would hold after such a pounding. The tanks had come by the dozens and under their own power fighting their way at times. Now they were just passengers on trains and large trucks going back the direction they had come from. I guess tanks are meant to fight and not to travel long distances, Rene thought. He really didn’t care why. I’m sure the commander will be glad to hear it one way or the other. They are leaving Southern France and that is all that matters for now. Why in the world would they be headed east? Could the Americans be attacking somewhere else?

He had heard about the atomic bombs, so maybe they were going to that area. Once again it did not matter too much to him just as long as they were gone. Rene was not a very curious man for being a sometimes spy for NATO. He spied whenever he found or observed something worth passing on. He did not go looking for trouble but if it was going past his car at 50 kilometers per hour he would take notice and pass that information on.

He was going to be here all day from the looks of the dust clouds coming from the mountains. He personally hated the mountains. Too many things that could kill you. He understood the sea but being high up made him breathe hard and who needed that to be added to their woes. Too many other things that can go wrong besides not being able to breath.

He noticed a strange looking engine on the train he was watching at a distance from his vantage point where he was stuck anyway by the military traffic of the Red Army. It looked more like a rolling fortress than an engine. It had multiple what looked like tank turrets mounted on top. Rene shrugged. I suppose you can do anything if you have the will, he thought. It certainly looked intimidating and that is what the Ruskies loved big things that looked intimidating similar to the Germans in a way.

Merde! They were really on the move in enormous numbers and all heading east. Borscht sucking scum...he would miss their vodka however. He had acquired a taste for it along the way as it was the only thing available in some towns. He was not tight with the Ruskie like the mayor and the council members. He doubted that the mayor and the council would be run out of town like the Vichy when the Red finally left and the town thought it could retaliate without being burned down like so many during the time of the hated Boche.

Besides many of the city leaders were former resistance fighters and most were communist for many, many years. Who could blame them for putting in place a government that they thought would save the world. It was much better than the time of terror or even the Vichy. It was amazing to him that his own people could be so cruel to their neighbors.

Let’s see that makes roughly 6 battalions by his count with over 200 tanks. They were those big ones that had the turret with no neck kind of like a short helmet and that massive gun that they had mounted on those beasts. The whole effect was horrifying. Must be hard to knock that pot off the body he mused. Well that was up whoever faced those steel monsters and not him. He was part of the earth here. One way or the other he would never leave. One day his body would nourish the ground he was now squatting on and perhaps the small tree he was using for cover would grow big and tall on the chemicals and nutrients his body put back into the soil. No, he would never leave here and that was just fine with him.

 

[allanpcameron]

Excellent as always. Nice to get a fix of good stuff.
Allan

 

[Calculus Humour]

Nice to see that your still writing this. It seems we're getting to a critical point, and I really want to see what happens.

 

[Hairog]

Pre-Order available for World War Three 1946 Addendum - Intelligence - Far East Theatre - Weapons Development.

Pre-Order

 

[omnimercurial]

Looking forward to more Hairog!

Not too Mil Tech Savvy sadly beyond a few favourite Designs etc so unsure if will try addendum for a while. Maybe at a later date as Spoilers are something to avoid.

 

[roberto85]

Here is a big thank you to all who have contributed, and or assisted, either unwittingly or by design, to the first book in a 4 part series base on World War Three 1946.

Kickstarter campaign to start soon to pay for an editor.


Free download of an unedited Ebook version in EPUB, MOBI and Kindle AZW3

Here

http://www.mediafire.com/download/pkhz9di8gpiacsv/World_War_Three_1946_Book_One_The_Red_Ti_(5).rar

I tried to download this, but I can't access it, neverthless it would be very interesting for me.

 

[Hairog]

Konstantin

Zhukov was intrigued with the idea of invading the Turk, the Ottoman Empire, the former scourge of the south and the peoples who had terrified many generations of Russian children. He was going to avenge the Byzantine empire and once again bring Constantinople into the sphere of civilization once again.

Individually the Turk was a formidable fighter but collectively he was a disaster. He expected to eliminate the Amerikosi airfields that were being used in Turkey to be over-run in as little as 45 days once the assault started. Constantinople’s walls would be no impediment to a modern army as they had been for thousands of years first to keep out the Mongol, then the Turk and finally the west.

The art of war had progressed too far for the old walls to withstand a 122mm shell or a 46 ton tank. The Soviet soldier was the undisputed master of city warfare so he expected little trouble in first by-passing and then eliminating any resistance there. With the Turk no longer in control of the Bosphorus or collectively the Turkish straits and the Black Sea fleet could start to harass the British and Yankee boats that have so far plagued his plans. That Sergo character had promised to unleash his missiles if a worthy target presented itself and he had more conventional weapons ready to fight the B-29, Shooting Star and RAF Meteor. It was some kind of new jet that would bring superiority to the VVS over the skies of the battlefield.

He just wanted the pesky boats gone. He had seen the devastation they had created near Le Havre and now had to take detours to bring his forces to bear on the Turk. He had to stay a good 30 miles from the shore of the various seas in the area for fear of intervention by the naval forces of the imperialist pigs.

The irony of Sergo not using the missiles on the ships was that the guidance system was initially designed to target ships. His fear of an unexploded warhead falling into the hands of NATO was somewhat warranted but not enough to allow the Western navies the unfettered freedom they possessed currently. That would have to be addressed especially when his forces got closer to the Levant and the Suez. Sergo’s missiles would have to be used for what they were designed for.

As he stared at the line of tank transports and train loads of forces crawling along the mountain roads from his command car in his armored train he suddenly turned and his aide quickly came to his side knowing that something was about to occur that meant his life was about to change. He knew his Marshal very well and the twitching of the jaw always meant something significant was about to happen.

Zhukov spoke in the low rumble that was his trademark for beginning an important statement. It forced you to get closer even knowing that the volume and pitch that frequently came would physically force you to take a step back. But that initial beginning made you lean in close knowing what was to come and what was to follow. It was an effective technique that had never failed Zhukov nor failed to frustrate and intimidate his subordinates.

The aide knew by now that the first few sentences were more of a stalling tactic while the Marshal collected his thoughts for verbal communication. Kind of like clearing your throat or a platitude filled welcoming statement about how pleased he was to be in your company. Zhukov did not use platitudes so he unconsciously used the technique he had developed over the many years of commanding men, commanding them to give their very lives for an idea and in sometimes great numbers.

Finally the essence of the order came to the fore and the aide did not need to lean in to hear it.
“Bring Konstantine to me. He is the one who has been working on masking the true nature of the Stalin’s Fire missile’s guidance system.”
“Of course comrade.”

The aide thought to himself, that was not what I expected. What is that old fox up to now? He was never bored in this position. The marshal’s other aide had made it through the war against the Nazis only to be killed by a stray bullet from an unknown source while standing next to Zhukov while he was touring the newly captured city of Berlin. He was in the right or wrong place at the right or wrong time depending on your point of view and had been ordered to step in and be the marshal’s aide. Luckily he was a natural and Zhukov had no complaints that he knew of.

He quickly walked the length of the train and entered what had easily become the most disorganized mess anyone had ever seen that was the command car of the undisputed master of maskirovka. A man no one ever heard of or knew existed.

The master of deception had his back to the door and did not turn around when the compartment was bathed in sunlight and cold air.

“Close the door and what do you want?” He muttered without even turning around. “Marshal Zhukov will see you now comrade. I will lead you to him.”
Konstantin slowly turned and without hesitation or argument and literally dropped what he was working on, thus causing a metallic crashing noise which filled the compartment and immediately started to move towards the front of the train. The aide did not look to see what was dropped but was once again struck by the empty eye sockets and the emaciated face of this master of deception. The man was obviously totally blind yet was able to function at an incredibly high level of proficiency as long as he was in the train or confined area. One tour around any area feeling with his feet and hands and it was ingrained in his memory. Unless something was moved by someone else, he could move with alarming speed that belied his blindness.
Found abandoned on the steps of a hospital in Moscow he was born without eyes and his anophthalmia was very acute. He barely even had eye sockets.

Zhukov’s aid had the duty of researching the past of anyone who came in contact with the Marshal. In his research he had found that Konstantin was amazing from birth in his ability to use his other senses to overcome what would be a crippling deformity to others. Possibly his lack of sight made it easier for him to fool others who had relied so heavily on sight. Whatever the cause he was indeed a master of maskirovka and responsible for many of the decisions Zhukov had made in this realm of smoke and mirrors.
As usual Konstantin led the way barely feeling his path. Everyone knew when he was coming and made way by clearing a course through their space for his transverse. You never wanted to be the cause of accidentally inflicting harm on this man.

They reached Marshal Zhukov in less time than it took the aide to originally traverse the length of the train. Konstantin did not stop and all knew that he was not to be stopped. They marched right up to the marshal and then waited to be addressed. The marshal was busy with another matter but immediately stopped the conversation and greeted Konstantin warmly. This always surprised the aide and made him a little jealous. But then again he had never saved Zhukov’s life or the lives of hundreds of thousands of soviet soldiers either. As Zhukov hugged Konstantin. The aide could tell that he was adverse to this particular kind of greeting and he thought, maybe that is why Zhukov does this to him.

As usual Zhukov started out speaking in his rumbling bass voice to draw Konstantin in but Konstantin did not fall for the bait as usual. They had been through many a challenge together and knew each other’s ways only too well. Finally the Marshal came to the point after articulating it in his mind.

“Konstantin old friend, what has been done to mask the true nature of the Stalin’s Fire missile guidance system?”
“Comrade Zhukov, we have done any number of things per Sergo’s orders and a few of our suggestions have been used as well. We have “provided” the NATO intelligence service with a number of opportunities to avail themselves of dummy units. So far they have only retrieved 2 out of twelve presented to them. The rest have gone unnoticed where they have remained so as to not increase suspicion.

Of the two actually reaching the NATO scientific staff both would have appeared to be guided by the German Fritz X system or the FuG 230 system. We are sure the NATO scientists have received and tested these units. We know they are still baffled and are unsure as to why their jamming techniques have not worked so far when they obviously have worked in the past. The only possible flaw in this plan is that it does defy physics so they will eventually discern that it must be a ruse. It has bought us valuable time to strengthen other weapons and strategies.

Zhukov moves to the center of the rail car and crosses his arms.
“The time is coming where we will need Stalin’s Fire to rain down on NATOs boats. It is coming soon. It will mean the difference between winning the war and defeat. NATO is free to roam the oceans and strike at us where they will. We now have the means to stop this. We now have the weapon we need to sweep the oceans clean of capitalist war machines and fill the void with our own. Mark my words Konstantin the time is coming and coming quickly.

We will need Sergo’s acquiescence on this matter in order to convince Comrade Stalin and the STAVKA. Stalin’s Fire must be used and soon and that is where your special talents come in Konstantin. You must come up with the ultimate maskirovka just in case the a warhead falls into NATO’s lap like the enigma machine or the so called Battle of the Beams. We have to make them believe that when the real solution does present itself to them that they reject it out of hand.”
“It is pretty unbelievable in reality so that maybe not as hard as you think. At this point we do not want to even get them thinking down the same path as the real solution. Possibly something like the enigma machine or some rudimentary computation device to throw them once again off the obvious path that they have ignored could be used. We will give them so many clues that they will not know which ones are pertinent.

Sergo is so concerned that they will discover the truth yet he will not tell anyone how to defeat the system he is using. He claims it is very simple but no one else seems to know what he is thinking and how to effectively counter it. We do have to plan on there being someone in what remains of the capitalist world who can think like Sergo. It would be foolish for us to think otherwise.

So far it has been a common fault of the Amerikosi who seem to think that they have invented everything and no one else can match their accomplishments. It is to our advantage to keep them thinking this way.”
“Da, you are correct Konstantin. We must keep using the power of maskirovka for a few more months until we are totally caught up to the Amerikosi and Limeys. Their sense of superiority is a great advantage to us because it blinds them to the real possibilities of a communist system. It is to our advantage to keep them thinking we are the blunt, dumb instrument of Stalin who only know the hammer and sickle and couldn’t possibly equal them in the sciences. The longer they believe that trope, the longer the time we have to defeat them.
“When we finally are “allowed” to use the system for its original purpose, we will not have to worry about the NATO boats anymore. There is no reason that the system cannot be placed on the German V2 rocket as well. At a distance of 320 km it will far out range those guns that have kept us from the coasts. They will no longer be able to supply islands like Britain or bring their tanks from across the seas. What good will their factories be if they cannot land machines or provide the fuel to run them. If we stop their navies we will stop them from invading the motherland and our new jets will meet them in the skies. We just needed the time to breath after our destruction of the Nazi pigs. We are now ready to once again defend ourselves.

First we have to push the Amerikosi farther away from our oil fields, further away from our homes, further away from our families. Maybe then they will leave us alone. We need to conquer the Turk and then drive them out of the Mediterranean. We need to close both ends of that sea. We need to destroy the Suez Canal and take Gibraltar from the British but first we need to take the airfields from the Turks and expand the perimeter. Then our planes must keep us safe while we rebuild once again.“

 

[hipper]

Should this not be in the writers forum since it is an actual booK?

hipper

Still fascinated to hear how accoutic technology is converted to missile guidance

 

[Hairog]

Teach a Man to Fish

The Fisherman was out on the lake as always catching the species of trout that only lived in this body of water. The waves were only a couple of inches without any white caps and the sun was shining bright and clear, which was unusual for this time of year. It was about 20 degrees Celsius and just a beautiful fall day to be out fishing. The Fisherman appreciated the weather but he would have been out all day anyway. He was floating on a pristine lake in Armenia, Lake Sevan to be exact, and today he was being disturbed.

Frequently now the capitalist bombers passed over a couple of times a week but they were so high and there was nothing to bomb here, that it was only the noise they made that was out of the ordinary. He had gotten used to them as had the fish he was certain.

He was floating just a mile off the coast from the old monastery when he heard the first of what was to be hundreds of trucks. The monastery had been closed for many decades but the buildings were still upright and strong. The ghosts of the warrior monks who defended the land for centuries keep most away.

These trucks were of a newer model and different make than the few he has seen in his life and they were full of soldiers; soldiers of the Red Army who looked to be on their way to a major battle and not just an excursion into the hinterlands of the USSR. This would be an unusual invasion route into the Turkish lands he mused. I guess if you want to catch an enemy unaware you do the unusual. Yet here they were and he was sure that they would try and catch his fish.

Lake Sevan was 78 km long and 58 wide and he had rowed every inch of it. He had heard that it was 95 meters deep as well placing it as one of the largest lakes in the world and it was located 1900 meters high surrounded by mountains. All in all it was one of the most beautiful places on earth but the Fisherman knew no other so to him it was just home. He fished to live and lived to fish, selling his catch to another who came to him in a powerboat and bought what he could not eat. Most of the time he was paid in kind and that is what he preferred. Salt, thread, cloth, line, hooks, all things he needed to survive and to keep his boat afloat and his small sail patched. He was being taken advantage of by the men in the power boat but he did not care of even knew this was the case.

He probably did not even own the land his shack was on but no one knew who did so by default he did. If you found an empty piece of land, you lived there and it was then it was yours until you died and someone else came along. Men like him did not have families. He did come from a family he recalled but was on his own since the age of 10. A fire or pillaging band of bandits had taken his family as far as he could remember which was not much about that time. A modern clinical diagnosis would be “repressed memory” and be concerned. He just never thought about it and lived to fish instead.

What was happening on shore became annoying as well as alarming. The trucks were disgorging hundreds of soldiers near the Monastery. I suppose it was a natural draw for someone not from the area. That was the annoying part. The alarming part was that other trucks were headed for his hut. Most of what he owned was in the boat with him including all he needed to survive but he remembered he left his good knife, extra fishing line, his winter store of fish and the painting in there. It would set him back a full moons worth of extra fish to replace them by trading with the men in the powerboat and who knew when he would be able to catch enough to replace his winter stores.

The book was where he found it wrapped in cloth and wedged very safely between two boulders. No one would find it and if they did it was not very appealing. That’s partially why he just kept it hidden. He could not read and the few illustrations were of the “Ascending Jesus” and were not very well done in his mind. He had seen a photograph once and was much impressed with that but not with this admittedly old book full of scribbles and squiggly lines and bad hand drawn pictures that didn’t even look as real as the photograph he had seen when the men in the powerboat had shown it to him.

He hated to fish on the ice. He has seen too many fall in when you were too hungry in the spring to take precautions on the thin ice. He had seen too many mistakes made by relatively smart men.

He could only assume that the soldiers were on their way to fight the Turks. There was certainly nothing else to fight here. He did not know who he pitied more, the soldiers who were about to die in a foreign land or himself who would go hungry this winter. Luckily he knew of another hut that he could claim. Its occupant had died the last moon. He had already staked a claim on it using the tried and true methods of the area but it was on the other side and farther away from his favorite fishing spot. He would have to spend twice the amount of energy getting there and back and during the winter the lake did not always freeze all the way over so he might have to go to his other less fertile fishing spots.

He began to curse the soldiers. Maybe if he killed a couple over the next few nights they would leave. No… they would try and hunt him down. They would not succeed but that would make him use up much needed supplies and who knows they just might get in a lucky shot and wound him. He was not afraid of dying but he was afraid of being shot and waiting to die while in pain.

No he would have to bide his time and wait to see what they did or were going to do here. His hope was that they were just passing through on their way to fight the Turk.

 

[kaymay]

Dead

Is this now dead nothing appears to have been posted for a while same is true for the blog?

 

[Hairog]

Here's the deal. Someone narc on this thread. My publisher requires that any books you put on their site has to be an exclusive. Someone questioned the posts here, and my publisher sent us an inquiry which was basically a cease and desist or lose your privileges.

The books are doing very well and we are reaching more readers than my blog or this thread could. However I would like to propose a more collaborative approach here that could change the outcome of this story dramatically. The books lay out one version but my publisher should have no objection if we come up with other alternative stories.

In a few days I will sum up where we are at this point in the story. We would then welcome input from all on how the NATO Allies can win this war. I will propose a series of questions for discussion and let's see if we can come up with some good alternatives to the ones I have already written.

Questions to ponder.
1. How do the NATO forces defeat the Soviet army and air force?
2. I will reveal the guidance system of the Soviet SAM and AA missiles in Book Three - The Red, White & Blue - The Giant Re-awakes, soon. How can NATO defeat his guidance system?
3. What kind of weapons should NATO be working on? How can we deliver them?
4. What strategic objectives should NATO be setting?
5. How would the Soviets counter act these strategic initiatives.
6. What leaders will emerge on both sides?

I look forward to some lively discussions. Especially once the guidance system is reveled.

 

[lhagambia]

"Collaborative approach"? I'm not sure that's wise. I've seen a previous attempt of yours at collaboration on this timeline and it wasn't pretty.

Endless rounds of "yes it is, not it isn't".

Probably best for you to write things as you see fit and you'll avoid people pointing out the holes in your story.

 

[Derek Pullem]

Here's the deal. Someone narc on this thread. My publisher requires that any books you put on their site has to be an exclusive. Someone questioned the posts here, and my publisher sent us an inquiry which was basically a cease and desist or lose your privileges.

The books are doing very well and we are reaching more readers than my blog or this thread could. However I would like to propose a more collaborative approach here that could change the outcome of this story dramatically. The books lay out one version but my publisher should have no objection if we come up with other alternative stories.

In a few days I will sum up where we are at this point in the story. We would then welcome input from all on how the NATO Allies can win this war. I will propose a series of questions for discussion and let's see if we can come up with some good alternatives to the ones I have already written.

Questions to ponder.
1. How do the NATO forces defeat the Soviet army and air force?
2. I will reveal the guidance system of the Soviet SAM and AA missiles in Book Three - The Red, White & Blue - The Giant Re-awakes, soon. How can NATO defeat his guidance system?
3. What kind of weapons should NATO be working on? How can we deliver them?
4. What strategic objectives should NATO be setting?
5. How would the Soviets counter act these strategic initiatives.
6. What leaders will emerge on both sides?

I look forward to some lively discussions. Especially once the guidance system is reveled.

Many AH stories are released on Amazon without an "exclusivity" clause.

 

[Ultima770]

I am up to page 35 in this post and it may be further ahead, but is there one in which Switzerland gets involved?

 

[Hairog]

Many AH stories are released on Amazon without an "exclusivity" clause.

It has to do with something called Kindle Direct Publishing. It has to be exclusive to Kindle or you can't be in the KDP program which gives you a lot of marketing options not available to straight publishing.

 

[Derek Pullem]

It has to do with something called Kindle Direct Publishing. It has to be exclusive to Kindle or you can't be in the KDP program which gives you a lot of marketing options not available to straight publishing.

Only if you choose the "Select" option. Which you can unchoose after 90 days and publish anywhere. And it only applies to e-pub (which I guess arguably AH is).