Two Eagles and a Rising Sun: A Three Nation ISOT

Chapter 1: Prologue
  • Quickdraw101

    Beware My Power-Green Lantern's Light
    Now yall are probably wondering, Quickdraw, why the hell are you making another story? Don't you have half a dozen already active? If that is your question, then yes, I do have that many stories I'm working on. Why this very specific and kinda out there story? Well, I've been bouncing between Audiobooks this past week or so, and while contemplating my idea for an Island in the Sea of Time fanfic where the Canadian Atlantic is sent to year 8 AE with Nantucket, I got to thinking. What if we took the assorted empires and nations you see here, and fling them back in time. Now originally, I was going to send these to the Nantucket universe, to spice things up a bit. However, I decided to change things up. If I'd stuck with that idea, I considered putting the 13 colonies on the east coast, a modern Canadian Atlantic, and going from there. But Nantucket would be fucked 7 ways from Sunday, even with a modern Canadian Atlantic Fleet to back them up, should the Germans come knocking, or the Japanese decide to bushwhack every outpost they got in the Pacific.

    So this is a new story idea I'm putting down. Still got plenty more rattling around my head, but those will come later. Please let me know what yall think of this one.
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    The year is 1812. The French Fortress of Ciudad Rodrigo was overrun by a joint Anglo-Portuguese Army under Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, the Flag of Argentina is raised over the city of Rosario during the Argentine War of Independence, the city of Caracas is devastated by powerful earthquake, and President James Madison of the United States had asked the U.S. Congress for a declaration of war against the United Kingdom. Napoleon Bonaparte is at the height of his power in Europe as he plans an invasion of Russia, and the war is officially declared between the United States, Great Britain, and Canada.

    But then, bright flashes of light are seen around the world, and the world would forever be changed from that moment onward. Three great powers from different points in history are tossed onto Earth, overwriting and replacing whole nations. The mightiest nations and empires of 1812 now find themselves greatly outclassed by three new empires on the global stage, all of which seek to change the balance of power in the world. The British and French Empires face a Germany seeking dominance and a free hand in Europe. A Germany whose army numbering in the millions is marching to war east and west, ready to sweep aside all who stand in their way.

    Japan seeks to exploit the weakness of the Europeans in Asia, while establishing its dream of creating a Greater East Asian Co Prosperity Sphere, even if it means going to war with the only nations who could possibly stand against them. With its armies in China now returned home, and its navy completely intact, Japan is free to pursue its goals of uniting Asia under the banner of the Rising Sun, which can be achieved now that its biggest rivals and obstacles have either disappeared or are extremely weak.

    Meanwhile in North America, the United States of 1907 finds itself in the North America of 1812, soon to be locked in a war against the British Empire, just as The Great White Fleet prepares to set sail. President Theodore Roosevelt thrusts the nation onto the global stage quicker and more violently than anticipated, and America is in a position to cement itself as a great power. But with an America fractured into many pieces from throughout time, he may need to prevent a second civil war.

    The states of Florida, California, Washington, the territories of Alaska and Hawaii, and the Canal Zone of 1943 find themselves ready and fighting a war that has yet to take place. With them came the territories of Wake and Guam from December 7th, 1941. Oregon, Arkansas, West Virginia, Vermont, New Hampshire, Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, and Guantanamo Bay Naval base of 2024 find themselves thrown back in a past over a century behind them. While the future knowledge and technology brought along has the potential to elevate the United States to global superpower, the internal unrest and strife threaten to tear the country apart from the inside out.
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    Chapter 2: Greetings Through the Sea of Time.
  • 'The world,' Private First Class Peter Jennings thought. 'Had gone straight to hell.' Just over two weeks ago, he'd been lounging in the USO lounge at Portland International Airport, as he and his unit had been withdrawn from the Korean-Chinese Border, and were being sent back to the states to rest, recover, and retrain.

    Word had it they'd be heading to Europe next, most likely to the border of the now civil war torn Russian Federation. Ever since their failed multipronged invasions into Ukraine and the Baltics, the Russians had been dealt defeat after devastating defeat. In what everyone expected to be a long drawn out war against the mighty Russian Bear, turned into an utterly humiliating defeat, and rout from the Baltics to the Donbas.

    And while tensions with China had flared up once more, he wasn't sure if being stationed in the Kaliningrad Occupation Zone, or within Belarus would be any safer. Not that it mattered now. He, like the rest of everyone in the state of Oregon, had been victims of a strange phenomenon that had flung them back in time to the year 1812. Only, they weren't the only victims of this strange occurrence either.

    When the bright dome of light had finally dissipated, it became clear at least a few other states had come with them. Vermont, New Hampshire, Arkansas, West Virginia, Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, and the Naval Station at Guantanamo Bay, all had come back with them. But the world that surrounded them was completely alien to all who resided inside those places. Over 14 million Americans now found themselves surrounded by a country that, while technically still the United States, was over a century removed from the America they knew.

    Most of the Lower 48, was of the United States as it stood in the year 1907, while California, Washington, Florida, and Alaska were as they stood in 1943. That had thrown everyone off, especially when radio reports came from Alaska talking about the defeat of Japanese forces, or in Hawaii about a resounding victory over the Japanese Navy.

    Then there were the assorted radio messages from Guam and Wake Island who claimed it was 1941 and that they were preparing for a Japanese invasion. This had terrified many people to no end. Many had feared, before confirmation actually came through, that the Japanese Empire was once again alive, and back with a vengeance.

    But perhaps most interesting of all was the assortment of Army, Navy, and Marine units from all across history found themselves distributed across the country, and were very much out of place. Many of the units in question weren't supposed to even be on the same continent, or in the case of some ships, still floating. Between and across Hawaii, California, and Washington, was an array of naval, marine, and army forces meant for the big push in late 1943, while Alaska held over 100,00 American and Canadian troops who just finished mopping up the Japanese forces on Attu and Kiska.

    In Manila Bay, the convoy MS-5, with the USS Langley, two destroyers, an oiler, and an Australian corvette, sat with a small force of transport ships laden with men and materials for a war that no longer existed. In Washington state, all the men killed and ships sunk during the Guadalcanal Campaign manifest in and around the city of Seattle. In Florida, the US 1st Armored Corps, II Corps, and Eastern Task Force for Operation Torch found themselves all along Miami Beach, while the Naval Forces found themselves just off the coast. The 5th and 6th Marine Regiments that were present at the Battle of Belleau Wood, found themselves in the city of Washington D.C.

    Units of the First Infantry Division that fought at the Battle of Cantigny found themselves in West Point. The all black regiments of the 92nd and 93rd Infantry Divisions were found wandering around Puerto Rico. In West Virginia, the entirety of the 45th Infantry Division, battle hardened from its campaign throughout Italy and Germany, were wandering around just north of Charleston. Meanwhile at Yeager International Airport, The Five TBF Avenger torpedo bombers of Flight 19, the 16 B-25's of Lieutenant Colonel Jimmy Doolittle's Tokyo Bombing group, and two B-29 Superfortress bombers, were parked wingtip to wingtip with each other.

    In Oregon, airports across the state soon found themselves host to the 332nd Fighter Group and 477th Bomber Group, with all their pilots, ground crew, and planes. In Arkansas, the 442nd Regimental Combat Team was found wandering around Robinson MTC by members of the Arkansas Army National Guard, and the all black tank regiments of the 758th, 761st, and 784th tank Battalions in Fort Chaffee. Finally, off the Virgin Islands, appeared the carriers USS Lexington and USS Yorktown, alongside the vessels they sank with during the battles of the Coral Sea and Midway, as well as the Gearings Class Destroyer USS John Basilone, Cleveland Class Light Cruiser USS Little Rock, and Tench Class Submarine USS Tench, sat off the coast with dazed and confused crews.

    There had been much confusion in the first few days after The Event. Soldiers and civilians from many different points in time meeting each other for the first time had caused more than a few incidents, some of which turned deadly. But by the third day, everyone realized that something needed to be done. Even more so when everyone with proper radio antennas were picking up transmissions from Tokyo and Berlin, which is how many learned that the German and Japanese Empires were also in this world.

    Which was another problem. The German Empire of 1914, and the Japanese Empire of 1941, now shared this world with the United States. And the United States was, most part, dangerously behind them in industry and technology. Both had designs against America in the times they came from, especially Japan, who wanted a free hand in the Pacific.

    Now instead of the massive industrial juggernaut the United States was in 1941, or even 1918, the America they faced was the still industrializing backwater of 1907. An America where the Navy was still modernizing in a time where the HMS Dreadnought had only been launched a year prior. While they might stand a chance against the Imperial German Navy, the Imperial Japanese Navy would slaughter them in any engagement.

    That was why he and his platoon were gathered here today. The governors and highest ranking military officers left in the post 1907 states and territories had deemed it absolutely essential that they speak with the president. While most of the world was still using muskets and wooden warships, the other two displaced nations did not.

    It had been 17 days since The Event happened, and Theodore Roosevelt, after making detours in West Virginia and Arkansas to inspect the military units stationed there, had finally hopped on a train, and came west to Oregon. It was there that he met with some of the finest military officers the United States had ever produced, alongside officers of the 21st century United States, and representatives of the same states. It was here they hoped they could come up with a plan to prepare the United States in the event of war with the Kaiser's Germany, or Hirohito's Japan.

    As Jennings surveyed the street, he couldn't help but admire the sheer variety on display. Members of the 9th and 10th Cavalry, representing the United States of 1907, mounted on horses. U.S. Army Jeeps, GMC trucks, and halftracks with their machine guns facing westward towards the sky. Then the assortment of upgunned Humvees, M939 trucks, and even a few M1117 ASV's. It was impressive to the Americans of 1904, and those from WW2 loved the look of the National Guard vehicles, but for the Guardsmen themselves?

    Knowing what awaited them in this world, they all wished they had something heavier. And they wished they had more of what they had.

    "Hey buddy, you got a minute?" Someone called out from behind, and Jennings turned around to see a menagerie of troops standing before him. Soldiers, Sailors, and Marines, mostly of the Second World War variety, but some older, approached him. "Got a couple of questions to ask you, if you got the time." The same man, a Marine of the 1st MarDiv said.

    "Sure thing," Jennings replied. "What do you wanna know?"

    "We won the war, right?" The Marine asked.

    "That much should be obvious," Jennings said, raising an eyebrow at the men. "Don't think we'd be flying the stars and stripes otherwise."

    "Then why are those slant eyed sons a bitches here?" One of the soldiers, one with a thick southern drawl, said from behind the Marine, quite loudly to boot. As he said it, an assortment of eyes fixed themselves onto him, and more than a few of the Guardsmen gripped their rifles tighter.

    "I reckon you better watch your mouth, son," Sergeant DaQuan Roberts said, his own South Carolinian drawl just as thick as the soldier's. Now more of his platoon stepped forward, and Jennings could hear safeties click off their rifles. The soldier in question looked ready to explode in anger, but a marine and sailor both grabbed his shoulder, and shoved him back.

    "Ignore that dumb bastard," Another Marine, this one with the stripes of a Sergeant on his sleeves said. "But we are curious, why exactly are they here?" He said, pointing behind them, and to the small group of American, German, and Canadian soldiers standing alongside the National Guardsmen.

    "Some of them were guards for the consulates, but most were training in Washington and here in Oregon when everything happened," Jennings said. "Some were on leave after training or were enroute to their next training location, and got stranded here."

    "You ain't gotta worry about them though, they might have been our worst enemy in your time, but are our best allies in our time." Lieutenant Denise Harper added. "Besides, from what I just heard, we're gonna fucking need it." she said, allowing a small smirk to show on her lips as the various downtimers looked at her in shock, either at her color and rank, or her choice of language.

    "And what might that be?" Another man, this time an Army Captain whose uniform identified him as being from the 1907 US Army. A man who looked awfully familiar to a few of them.

    "Captain John Pershing?" Sergeant Roberts asked, tilting his head slightly, and seeming to slightly startle the man. He looked down at his rank insignia and chuckled slighlty.

    "Left my up to date uniforms behind, this still had captain's bars on it." The man said. "But yes, that's me, Brigadier John Pershing. Is there something I can help you with?"

    Without any hesitation on his part, Sergeant Roberts stepped forward and offered his hand to Pershing, which he took, albeit with some hesitation himself. It was soon followed by an out thrust hand from Lieutenant Harper, which Pershing also accepted.

    "May I ask what this is about, Lieutenant, Sergeant?" Pershing asked, genuinely confused now.

    "Thank you for giving us and those like us a chance, sir!" Harper said, nodding over to some of the 9th and 10th cavalry men who stood behind him.

    "Ah, I understand now," Pershing said, nodding his head. "I guess I'm remembered rather fondly then, ain't I?"

    "That you are sir," Roberts replied.

    "Of course Nigger Jack is loved by a bunch of-" the same soldier from before began before being cut off.

    "Jesus Christ you damn hick, I'm gonna have Manny here knock you out if you don't start showing some respect, especially to a lady!" The Marine Sergeant from before snapped, and two other Sergeants flanked the man on both sides, staring at him intently. "I don't give a damn what color she is, but she's an officer, and if you don't show some respect, we'll show you how it's done in New York!" He threatened.

    The soldier turned an even darker shade of red than he was before, cast one final glare at Lieutenant Harper and Sergeant Roberts, and stalked off, with one of his buddies in tow. When they were finally gone, the Sergeant turned back around to face the Lieutenant.

    "I swear, some guys' mommas never dished out proper discipline!" He chuckled.

    "No way! No freaking way!" Specialist Stephanie Flores said as she practically leapt towards the three Marines, who looked rather surprised at the outburst. "Sergeants John Basilone, James Morgan, and Manuel Rodriguez!?" She said, more a statement than a question.

    "Yes, that's right?" Basilone replied. "Are you telling me that this sorry bastard is famous too?" He asked, thumbing a finger at Sergeant Morgan."

    "Fuck you!" Morgan muttered jovially, just loud enough for him to hear.

    "Sergeant Basilone, you're a legend in the Marine Corps!" She practically squealed.

    "Oh yeah, forgot to mention she's a prior service Marine." Jennings added. "She just wanted an easier gig after four years with the Crayon Eating Corps."

    "Insult the name of my beloved Corps again, pinche pendejo and I'll-" The rest of her short tirade in Spanish, while going over the heads of most present, made Sergeant Rodriguez laugh hysterically, and Lieutenant Harper shook her head.

    "I think a lot of you boys from across time will find just how loved you really are in the future," Harper said. "That said, I do believe I should update you all on our current situation, because it's looking pretty damn grim."

    "Do go on, Lieutenant." Pershing prompted.

    "We're all ears ma'am." Sergeant Basilone concurred.
     
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    Chapter 3: The Battle of Tsingtao
  • Jiaozhou Bay, Shandong Peninsula
    Kiautschou Bay Leased Territory, City of Tsingtao
    German Empire
    September 1914/June 1812


    Officially, 1st Lieutenant Jack Evans was just another American tourist on a trip through China. One where he indulged himself in the pleasures to be found in the various westernized cities of said country, and generally just having a good time. And if he was being honest with himself, he was having a good time.

    Unofficially though, he was sent to reconnoiter various ports and military installations across this region of China, specifically the Japanese port of Riojun, and the German port of Tsingtao. While the United States wasn't at war with either nation, the two aforementioned nations were rivals to the United States, and posed a threat to America's Pacific holdings. The United States needed to be prepared for the eventuality of war with either nation, and that's how Evans found himself in Tsingtao in the first place.

    Not long after arriving in the city, war had broken out between the Triple Entente and the Triple Alliance, and Japan, in accordance with the Anglo-Japanese, had joined Britain in its war against Germany. Japan then gave Germany an ultimatum to withdraw from its holdings in China, or face consequences. The Kaiser, who had stated that the fall of Tsingtao to Japan would be worse than Berlin falling to the Russians. Thus, he had ordered his soldiers and sailors to defend the city.

    Before long, the city and port was under siege by forces of the British and Japanese Empires, and Lieutenant Evans was stuck right in the middle of it. A few days later, British and Japanese ships had been sighted off the coast, and German coastal batteries opened fire on them. What few German ships were present dared not sortie in the face of the overwhelming superiority of the British and Japanese fleets. Then, on September 2nd, a bright flash of light overtook the city, and everything changed.

    A bright flash of light, which Evans first took for a massive explosion, reflexively made him hit the ground, and shield himself from any potential shrapnel. Everyone around him had done the same thing. But there was no sound, no explosion, no shaking of the Earth. Nothing. When he got up and dusted himself off, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, nothing seemed to have changed at all.

    The only thing that seemed to have changed was the site of a Japanese destroyer that ran aground in the bay, which soon found itself being shelled by the German gunboats, who promptly sank her. It was then that Evans noticed something was wrong. As he looked out into the bay, most of the British and Japanese ships were gone, and everything outside the city looked…different. Settlements and towns that were once outside the territory controlled by the Germans were either gone, or weren't the same as before.

    The German defenders rejoiced at what seemed to be an act of god favoring the Germans, as what few ships remained in the bay soon withdrew further out, and the yellow skinned hordes of Japanese troops they had expected, didn't come. The Germans had won before the siege had even started. Or so it had seemed.

    A few days later, a group of strange looking and very fast planes flew over the port, obviously performing reconnaissance, but otherwise not attacking. It was then that the Germans sent up planes of their own, two Etrich Taube monoplanes, to try and investigate. That was a mistake. One of the strange planes swooped down onto the German planes, lights began to wink on its wings, followed by the booming sound of cannon fire, and the German planes practically disintegrated mid air.

    Some of the Germans fired on the planes, which also proved to be a fatal mistake. Two of the planes dove down towards the ground and opened fire on groups of German soldiers. Evans watched in horror as the green colored planes, guns firing away all the while, turned large groups of men into bloody chunks of meat all across the street and walls of the city. But what terrified Evans even more was the sight of the Rising Sun on the wings of the planes, identifying them as Japanese planes.

    But that wasn't possible! Not even Britain, Germany, or the United States had planes that fast, or that well armed! How could a bunch of yellow skinned, slant eyed savages create such things? Then he thought back to the Russo-Japanese War, where the Russians had been utterly humiliated repeatedly by the Japanese Empire, and had been defeated by Japan. Such a victory had stunned the world, and made many reevaluate their opinions on Japan, and what they were capable of.

    But what Evans had seen shouldn't have been possible. The planes he'd seen looked nothing like anything anyone had! None of this made any sense. Luckily, things were quiet for the next few days, with the eerie silence of the streets punctuated only by the droning of plane engines overhead. Planes that were larger than the ones before, and in far greater numbers.

    A single Japanese battleship, one cruiser, and one British battleship, with two destroyers still remained just off the coast, well out of the range of German guns. Despite this, the ships present in port did not attempt to sortie, as they were still hopelessly outgunned. Then, many smoke trails became visible over the horizon, and by the following day, a massive fleet, one much larger than had been present previously, took up positions outside the bay, effectively blockading it.

    Then there was the Japanese division which landed the day of the bright flash, and which was also surrounding the city. Things looked bleak for the German and Austro-Hungarian defenders of Tsingtao.

    Then, two days later, three boats, under flag of truce, rowed to port. One boat was all British sailors, while the other two were mostly Japanese, with a few white faces mixed in with them. Faces he didn't recognize, and one which wore a uniform that looked German, but clearly wasn't. Some were even Americans.

    Evans followed the group as inconspicuously as he could until they reached the administrative building, at which point he couldn't follow. What he could do was hang around and watch the building. After about an hour, some of the men who escorted the Japanese and British inside, walked out of the building, and looked pale. The expressions on their faces were a mixture of disbelief, shock, anger, and fear. It was then that Evans decided he could afford to get a little bit closer, and as subtly as he could, approached a street vendor that was nearby, and pretended to browse while listening in on the conversation between a group of German soldiers.

    "They say they are from the year 1941 and that this city belongs to them in that year, and that they want it back!" One of them said.

    "That's impossible! How could they be from the future? Those slant eyed savages are obviously lying." A second replied. "Those yellow skinned bastards just want us to surrender without a siege! Look at the fleet they had off our shores and how it disappeared! They are desperate!"

    "He's not lying Günter!" A third voice protested. "They brought British, German, and even Americans with them. Ones who also claim to come from the future, and ones who don't wish to see us slaughtered by the Japanese. They say that Germany and Japan are allies against Britain in the future, and that they wish to avoid further bloodshed!"

    This made Evans raise an eyebrow and briefly turn his head towards the Germans, who were too focused on each other to notice him. Future Americans?

    "You saw what their planes did to Johan's squad!" The first voice added. "They pulverized them and nothing we fired at them did a damn thing! They have a fleet larger than any we've ever seen just off the coast, and you know full well help isn't coming!"

    "They are even in contact with Berlin right now!" The third voice said. "They are trying to work out a solution so they don't have to take this port by force."

    "And if we refuse to surrender the city?" Günter asked, a smug expression on his face clearly visible as Evans looked back once more. "What will they do then, Josef?"

    Josef swallowed and let out a ragged sigh before answering.

    "Our own future consulate staff, as well as the British and Americans, told us about what the Japanese Army did in its war against China in the future. They acted like pure savages, raping, murdering, and burning whole cities, and they said if we didn't give them the city, and force them to take it, they'll brutalize it while taking it!" Josef explained, his fists tightening around the sling of his rifle. "Take a look out there, Günter! Look at those ships, those planes that fly over our heads every day! If we try to defend this city, we will lose!"

    As if on cue, a dozen planes flew overhead, the roar of their engines drowning out all sound below them. The smaller of the planes flew downward, flying overhead at rooftop height far faster than anything they'd ever seen before. The Japanese were taunting the Germans, and showing them they couldn't fight back. Even Günter looked uncomfortable as he looked up at the planes, as if finally realizing the futility of resistance.

    "You said they are in contact with Berlin?" Günter asked, and the other man nodded. "What makes you think the Kaiser will believe what he's told? Maybe he'll just order us to hold this city anyway, and then we'll all die."

    "That's…the other thing. There are panicked reports coming from Berlin. Something about a large French Army armed with muskets and cannon on the border of Alsace and Poland. And something about the year 1812." Josef said, and Günter looked at him as if he were mad. But before he could say something, the first man picked up where Josef left off.

    "And something about the United States we only heard bits and pieces of. Point is Günter, something very bad has happened! We all saw that light, and then this all happened! We are needed back home to defend The Reich, not lording over some slant eyed Chinese peasants in this shithole! If the Japanese want it, let them have it!"

    Once more, engines droned overhead as yet another flight, this time much larger than the previous, flew overhead. Most of the planes were larger ones, with a few smaller ones escorting it along the side. They flew further inland, over the nearby villages and towns that surrounded the city and its port.

    "What the hell!" Evans exclaimed as he watched men begin to jump out of the large planes, white parachutes opening after them as they slowly floated down to the ground. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of soldiers were landing all around the base. Within minutes, they'd have the base surrounded, and would begin to dig in. If they kept this up, they'd outnumber the defending Germans in a few days. And if that fleet, and all those planes were any indication of what the Japanese could do…things looked bleak for the defenders of Tsingtao. Come to think of it, things didn't look good for him either, or any of the white people residing in the city.

    "Maybe you're right, Ludwig," Günter said, letting out a tired sigh, his face showing a degree of hopelessness as he looked up at the planes. "But what's to stop the Japanese from demanding Samoa or New Guinea next? We took these lands at great cost to us, and we need them for our empire! Our navy especially needs the coaling stations we've set up on them!"

    "None of that will matter if the Japanese take the city by force!" Ludwig argued. "We can't rely on help from Germany, nor our navy! Or do you not recall what happened to the Russians in 1905?"

    Günter winced at the thought. He was a little boy when the Russians sent their Baltic Fleet to fight the Japanese Navy in the Tsushima Strait. The battle had been a one sided massacre that saw nearly the entire Russian fleet destroyed or captured, including all its battleships. Granted, most Germans viewed the Russians as little more than barbarians, but they were still white men, and a great power in Europe to boot. The defeat of the Russian Navy forced serious changes in how the German Empire viewed and dealt with the Japanese from then on.

    "Yeah, I remember," Günter grudgingly replied. "But we've already lost Samoa to the Australians and New Zealanders, and they should have already invaded New Guinea. This is our last colony in the Pacific that we still control!" Again, Ludwig shook his head.

    "No, Günter, it's not!" Ludwig insisted. "Yes, the New Zealanders have landed on Samoa, and the Australians have attacked New Guinea, but no invasion force has taken New Guinea, and there never will be!"

    "What do you mean?"

    "We are still in contact with Germany, as well as New Guinea, and even Samoa! That same flash of light we saw here happened there too! All over the Empire! They've reported the same things we have here! Everything outside of Germany looks completely different! No fortifications on the French border, no Royal Navy in the North Sea, nothing. Our planes even flew unmolested over France, and not even the Eiffel Tower could be seen in Paris!"

    "How is that possible?" Günter said incredulously.

    "God has smiled on us, Günter!" Josef added with a wide smile. "In all his wisdom, he has sent The Reich back in time! Back in time to a Europe where Napoleon's Army is the strongest force in the land, and the French soldiers we've captured have said as such!"

    "As hard as it is to believe, one needs only look outside the walls of this city to see the truth," Ludwig said. "This is not the China we knew only a few days ago. This is not the world we knew a few days ago. This is a world where we can have the empire we've dreamed of having! An empire that spans all across Europe, and even across Africa and the Americas!"

    "But not Asia," Günter grumbled. "And what of the Americans? You said they are still around, right?"

    "Bah!" Ludwig waved a hand at the question. "The Americans are nothing but farmers and mechanics, not soldiers! If we choose to take Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Panama, what could they do? Their pitiful little army and inexperienced navy is no match for our own!"

    Evans scowled as he overhead the Germans insulting his nation's military. Sure, America had a small army compared to the major European empires, but the United States Navy was first class! They had proven this in 1907 with the launch of the Great White Fleet and the subsequent two year voyage they made around the world. The German Navy had no such feat under its belt, it hadn't even fired a shot in anger in all its young existence.

    "Besides, what we're getting via the transatlantic cables keep saying it's the year 1907 over and over again, with some smatterings of obvious lies, or exaggerations. The Americans seem to be in complete disarray right now, and are in no position to oppose us." Josef said. And after all, it was the British who enforced the Monroe Doctrine, not the United States. If the Americans try to oppose us, they will be swept aside."

    Evans didn't care to listen anymore. He stood up straight and began walking down the street back to the small room he rented in the tourist quarter. He needed some time alone, time to think about what had happened. What the Germans had said wasn't making any sense. French Musketeers and no Eiffel Tower? The United States in the year 1907? Japan from decades in the future? Just what was happening? He had a feeling he'd find out soon enough.
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    Two days after the envoys left the city the bombardment began. Destroyers, cruisers, and battleships unleashed a hellish bombardment upon the port city while dozens of planes soured across the sky, dropping impossibly large bombs, and raking the defenders with machine gun and cannon fire. Explosion after explosion shook the city as Japanese forces pounded the city. From where Evans stood, he could see out into the bay, where the massive Japanese Fleet stood.

    Flashes of light blinked in the distance as explosive shells were lobbed into the city from many miles offshore, laying the various fortifications in the city to waste. The first of such fortifications to be targeted was the battery of two 9.4 inch guns in Fort Moltke, located on the left wing of the city. The battery got off but a single volley before the replying naval gunfire impacted in and around the fort, detonating the stores of ammunition, and creating a massive explosion.

    Next was the fortifications atop Hill Iltis and its battery of 9.4 inch guns. Guns which fired on Japanese landing boats who began to swarm onto the beaches. Two of the shells found their mark, and the landing craft disintegrated from the hits. However, a flight of Japanese planes roared overhead, dropping large bombs onto the fortification, and silencing the defenses of Fort Iltis.

    The last of the major forts was Fort Bismarck, which held four 11 inch howitzers that had been firing nonstop since the bombardment began. The guns of Fort Bismarck were perhaps the luckiest of the German artillery, as they had managed to land several hits on Japanese warships out in the bay in support of the handful of ships the German defenders had. But the guns of Fort Bismarck would quickly draw the ire of Japanese battleships in the bay, as well as from Japanese aircraft.

    After 20 minutes, the guns of Fort Bismarck fired for the last time, as two 11 inch shells landed atop a Japanese cruiser, the IJN Takachiho, which was loaded with 120 naval mines meant to be laid around the port's entrance. The initial explosion of the shells set off a chain reaction which would rip the ship apart, and sink her minutes later with all hands lost.

    With the forts now reduced to ruins, the Japanese pressed the attack. All that was left to stand in the way of the horde of Japanese landing craft approaching the city were the smaller batteries and redoubts, some with obsolete pieces of Chinese artillery, and a handful of small vessels in the harbor.

    Unfortunately for the Germans, since the Austro-Hungarian cruiser had departed with the British ships, and the single cruiser they did have was unfit for combat, what ships they did have consisted of a single torpedo boat and four Iltis Class gunboats. The five ships steamed out of the harbor while under heavy air attack, and maneuvered to confront the Japanese.

    The sailors aboard the ships put up a stiff and valiant resistance, but were heavily outnumbered, and outmatched by nearly 30 years of technological progress. Over and over again, Japanese planes strafed and shot up the gunboats, who desperately fired their machine guns up at their attackers. They had even managed to shoot down two Japanese planes over the course of the engagement, but the writing was on the wall.

    First to sink was the SMS Iltis herself, after a Japanese plane that was crippled by fire from the SMS Luchs, crashed into her midships into her smokestacks. Fires burned uncontrollably before she suddenly exploded, the fires having reached her ammunition magazine. Next to go was Luchs herself, having finally succumbed to over a dozen planes simultaneously strafing her, and sending her down to the bottom of the bay.

    SMS Jaguar was hit directly by two 10 inch shells from the IJN Suwo, flagship of Vice Admiral Kato Sadakichi. One moment she was there, the next she was gone, the shells of the once Russia, but now Japanese battleship atomizing her. The last gunboat, SMS Tiger, managed to get directly in front of, and into the massive force of landing craft, and exacted a heavy price of men and equipment on the Japanese attackers.

    Post battle analysis would later show that Tiger had claimed nine separate landing craft, two of which were carrying a Type 95 and Type 97 tank respectively. Ultimately, SMS Tiger would be sunk by the combined efforts of the Japanese naval air forces, as a 550 pound bomb was dropped directly atop her stern, destroying the propeller, and leaving her dead in the water. Minutes later, she would sink.

    The single torpedo boat, SMS S90 had fared no better than her compatriots in the gunboats. She had three torpedo tubes and a total of five torpedoes. Her crew, knowing they were already dead men, fired them in a wide spread towards the enemy, managing to quickly reload the last two before multiple shells from Japanese destroyers and cruisers sunk her. The Whitehead torpedoes were ancient compared to what the Japanese Navy had, they were still deadly in the tightly packed waters off Tsingtao.

    One of the torpedoes struck a Japanese destroyer, inflicting minor damage, and forcing the ship to withdraw. Another impacted directly into a Soukoutei Class Gunboat, which obliterated the craft upon contact. The other three however, hit nothing. The Japanese ships either maneuvered around them, or simply lay beyond the reach of the torpedoes.

    Japanese pilots and sailors would go on to talk about the courage and valor of the men aboard those ships, how they stood and fought against impossible odds, and Vice Admiral Sadakichi himself ordered that all the survivors from those boats be taken directly to his flagship, and to be treated humanely.

    Because with the last of the German's major defenses destroyed, they could now press on unabated. Inside the city, German soldiers and citizens alike looked on in abject horror as what fortifications they had left were torn asunder, massive holes were blown open in the city walls, and planes strafed and bombed as they pleased.

    Evans watched in horror and amazement as Japanese troops poured into the city from all sides. Strange vehicles with tracks and equipped with what he assumed were light cannon accompanied them, and blew apart any infantry or machine gun nest that dared stand in their way. In places where German defenders inflicted heavy losses, Japanese troops continued to charge forward, letting out ear splitting cries of;

    BANZAI!

    BANZAI!


    BANZAI!

    As they went along. Some Japanese officers even charged with swords, and slashed soldiers and civilians alike in a bloody fervor. He saw Japanese soldiers butcher surrendering soldiers and innocent civilians, even bayonetting women who tried to fight off being raped. It was a sickening and gruesome sight.

    He and the other foreign citizens in the city could gaze at the utter carnage before them, fearing just what the Japanese would do if they came across them. They did their best to hide, but Japanese forces were overrunning the city, and pushing the beleaguered German defenders into a smaller and smaller perimeter. Before long, they had them pushed back around the administrative quarter of the city, and German soldiers carrying white flags came forward to the Japanese lines.

    The two sides talked back and forth for some time, but it was clear by the expressions on the face of the Germans what was being said. From the first shots fired by the Japanese Navy, to the landing of Japanese Marines and soldiers on the beaches around the city, it had taken less than a day for the city to fall. Soon, scores of tired, angry, wounded, and miserable looking German troops were paraded through the streets of Tsingtao, while joyous Japanese soldiers stood guard around them, cheering, throwing curses, or even kicking and punching the downtrodden Germans.

    Everyone thought it was over. Vice Admiral Waldeck and his forces had surrendered, and the Japanese Empire was victorious. The Japanese would add another city to their expanding empire, and before long they'd be repatriated to some neutral nation until things could be settled. But they were wrong.

    The horrors and atrocities that awaited many of them, what would be inflicted upon the city's inhabitants, and what would be inflicted upon him, would stay with Lieutenant Evans for the rest of his life.
     
    Chapter 4: Signals Intelligence
  • Let's see how many people understand just what happened here, and what it might mean.

    ---------------
    Chapter Two
    Salem, Oregon
    United States of America
    June 28th, 2024/ November 1st 1943/July 1812
    Oregon State Capitol


    "It seems the Germans and Japanese both have gotten over at least some of the confusion, and have got their bearings in order just enough to figure out what has happened." Lieutenant Harper said. "They know that they've been sent back in time, they know about each other, and they know about us."

    "But do they know the specifics, or are they just vaguely aware we are here?" Private Jennings asked, and Harper just shrugged.

    "The Germans seem to have the clearest idea out of the two. The transatlantic cables between the United States and Germany are somehow still present, and radio receivers in West Virginia and Arkansas are both picking up German transmissions. They know that America is here, just not the America they knew."

    "And what about Japan?" Sergeant Basilone asked.

    "A great deal of confusion is what they're getting," Harper replied. "Please bear in mind that the rest of the Pacific Coast and Florida are that of 1943, as well as a number of outlying Pacific Islands. Wake and Guam meanwhile are claiming its 1941, and are clogging the airways about impending Japanese attacks. This has utterly confused, and in some cases, enraged the Japanese. Some of those in Tokyo think we've just declared war on them, while others think it's a repeat of Orson Welles' War of the World broadcast. But that's just the public reactions."

    "What do you mean 'Public Reactions'?" Pershing asked. Harper chuckled at the question, and realized that she may or may not be allowed to talk about what she knew. She was not infantry, or involved in any combat arms unit. She was a Signal Intelligence Analyst, and had already been busy before The Event happened.

    Since 2016, the United States has been at a heightened state of military readiness, mobilization, and surge of patriotism. A state due largely in part to China's aggression, as well as the actions by the now dead North Korea, severely weakened Iran, and civil war torn Russia. As such, military facilities had been expanded, and in some cases, created from scratch all across the country. Oregon was no exception.

    Aside from the expanded basic and advanced training facilities at Camp Withycombe, there were substantial additions to Portland and Kingsley Air National Guard Bases, and two new bases being constructed in Salem and Springfield. The latter of which Lieutenant Harper was stationed at, and still hadn't been completed yet. Not that it mattered right now.

    The equipment she and other members of the Oregon Army and Air National Guard had been using to listen in on Chinese communications, and occasionally on Russian Far Eastern units in Kamchatka and Vladivostok, were turned westward towards Japan.

    "Let's just say that the Japanese Army and Navy are losing their shit right now," Harper said with an impish grin. "All their armies from China and Manchuria are wandering around Japan aimlessly, and the navy has reported contact with German, British, and Austro-Hungarian ships. All of which are centered in the port city of Tsingtao, and has the Japanese government absolutely confused."

    "Yeah, well they aren't the only ones that are confused here," Sergeant Rodriguez said. "I thought the Japs controlled that place since World War One? And what the hell is an Austro-Hungarian ship doing there?"

    "They did, however none of their holdings in mainland China or South Pacific came back. Meanwhile the entire German Empire in 1914 came back, which includes all their islands and holdings in the Pacific. Something the Japanese seem to have just realized, and are no less angry about losing." Harper explained.

    "And since the Austro-Hungarians used Tsingtao as a port for their own ships in the Pacific, it makes sense for one to be there." Pershing added. "Although seeing what year we find ourselves in, they ain't gonna have a port to go home to. The whole Adriatic Coast is owned by Napoleon, so they'd have to sail to Germany for a safe port."

    "And that assumes the Japanese will let them leave in the first place," Jennings said. "Most of us know how brutal Japan was during World War Two. There's no guarantee the Japs won't just slaughter those poor bastards."

    "Well, that's the interesting thing, Jennings. While troops have been airdropped around the city, which have unleashed hell on the countryside, and terrified the shit of the Germans, they haven't attacked the city proper yet. Which brings up another point, all the foreign embassies in Japan have been desperately trying to reach their homelands. Of which are the embassies of Britain, France, the United States, Soviet Union, and Nazi Germany have been the loudest."

    More than a few groans could be heard at Harper's mention of the Soviet and Nazi embassies.

    "So we gotta worry about communists and fascists then," A soldier commented. "And here I thought all we had to worry about was the fucking Japs, and Kaiser Bill's unhinged ass."

    "I wouldn't be so sure about that." Jennings replied. "The Soviets have nowhere and no one to turn to at this time, and Imperial Germany would despise the Nazis. Even if they do try to go back home, neither of their respective homelands will want them."

    "That also assumes the Japanese don't outright kill them to keep them from trying to uplift their homelands. Which brings up another point. As it stands right now, Germany and Japan are unquestionably the dominant forces in Europe and Asia. Even with the conventional forces we have at our disposal, we can't really challenge them." Harper said, not noticing how Jennings and Flores took notice of her use of the word 'conventional', and wouldn't care if she did. "As such, they'll have no real opposition to their aims of conquest, which they will most assuredly do. But right now, there's tens of thousands of French troops in Indochina, and an assortment of Commonwealth forces in the Pacific, and of course the Canadian troops in Alaska."

    "All of which have no homes to go back to," Sergeant Roberts said. "And neither Japan nor Germany will want them mucking about in their neighborhoods."

    "Exactly, Sergeant," Harper said. "If anyone is in danger right now, it's them. Imperial Japan and Germany might have some competing aims, but neither country wants a challenge to their hegemony. Japan might just decide to cut their losses and liquidate them, while Germany sends the High Seas Fleet to New Guinea and Samoa, and obliterates the Australian Squadron based there."

    "We can reach them over wireless, can't we? Why not just warn them to get the hell out of there?" Pershing suggested. "We still control the Philippines and Samoa. They could easily reach Subic Bay or Cavite from Tsingtao."

    "They already have," Came a voice from behind Lieutenant Harper. Approaching from the nearby communications tent set up in front of the Capitol Building, was Captain Alex Hoffman, friend, and Flight Commander for Harper's intel unit. "Every British, Australian, French, and Austrian ship in the region is hauling ass to The Philippines right now, which I should add is clogged with other American naval ships, and an Australian troop convoy."

    "And who might you be?" Sergeant James Morgan asked.

    "Captain Alex Hoffman, 9th Intelligence Squadron, and Lieutenant Harper's Flight Commander." Captain Hoffman said in greeting, shaking the hands of the various officers and NCOs in front of him.

    "At least they got a white man in charge around here," One of the downtime soldiers said, earning tired glares from most of those present.

    "I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Hoffman said, turning his gaze over to Lieutenant Harper. "Anyway, I bring some news, and most of it bad."

    "How bad, sir?" Harper asked, now noticing the very noticeable bags under his eyes, and wan expression on his face on full display.

    "Bad enough that I was sent straight from the ops room to report on the information to leadership, and they took it pretty damn bad." Hoffman said. "President Roosevelt and a number of the World War officers damn near blew a gasket, while the rest are just pissed off, and trying to figure out how to do next."

    "Would it be safe to assume this has something to do with this futuristic Japanese Empire everyone keeps talking about?" Pershing asked, and Hoffman let out a tired sigh as he nodded.

    "Them and the fucking Germans. For starters, the Japanese waited long enough and attacked Tsingtao yesterday. The city fell within hours and as you'd expect, nothing good happened to the men who surrendered, or civilians inside the city."

    "It was the Rape of Nanking all over again, wasn't it sir?" Jennings asked and Hoffman nodded grimly.

    "As far as we can tell, yeah. The German radio station in the city transmitted until the Japanese stormed it, and we intercepted, and still are, Japanese radio broadcasts in the region. Which brings up another point, their claiming to have captured an American Lieutenant who was spying on the Germans inside the city. And from what we've heard, they worked him over pretty good."

    "Fucking savages." One of the nearby soldiers snarled.

    "Yeah well the only reason they didn't kill him is because they found his West Point Academy Ring when they rummaged through his belongings. They handed him over to the American embassy in Tokyo and the man's in bad shape. Between what they're telling us, our radio intercepts, and satellite reconnaissance, things seem to be going from bad to worse every day."

    "Satellite reconnaissance?" Sergeant Rodriguez asked.

    "We have a satellite?" Jenning asked, all eyes now shifting to Captain Hoffman.

    "The hell's a satellite?" One of the downtimer soldiers drawled out. "You mean one a them flying machines they invented in North Carolina?" Dealing with the early 20th century Americans was going to be a very interesting, and very frustrating experience.

    "A few satellites came back with us. Any that happened to be in exact orbit above the modern states that came back. Getting into contact with said satellites was a pain, but the facilities in Sugar Grove, and what few ground based radio facilities we have managed to work wonders." Hoffman explained. "Wonders that include watching and listening to everything the Germans and Japanese are up to. And what they are up to has got everyone riled up today."

    "And just what are the interdimensional axis up to today, sir?" Harper asked.

    "Well for starters, Japan is accelerating their plans for Asia. All the radio chatter and troop movements we're seeing seems to indicate that. They know this is a time period where, embargo or no embargo, their usual sources of oil are gone. They need the resources desperately, and are acting accordingly." Hoffman said.

    "But the Japs preparing to invade the Dutch East Indies and Malaya wouldn't be getting the higher ups as riled up as you claim." Sergeant Basilone pointed out. "There's more isn't there?"

    "That there is Sergeant. Our latest satellite orbit shows at least one fleet carrier and one escort carrier operating around the Philippines, launching fighters, and performing reconnaissance flights over the archipelago. Reconnaissance flights which have been fired upon by American and Australian ships in Subic and Manila Bay, and have shot down at least three planes only a few hours ago."

    "I'm not seeing how that's supposed to be a bad thing though." Pershing said. "It might teach those bastards not to mess with us." At that, a few of the World War Two and 21st century soldiers and marines laughed grimly in response.

    "More sensible minds would think so," One of them added.

    "But the Japs aren't reasonable." Sergeant Morgan finished. "If anything, that'll just piss them off even more."

    "Correct Sergeant, which brings me to my next point. They know their surroundings aren't that of 1941 and plan to take full advantage of the fact. Right now more and more ships are leaving mainland Japan and Hainan, in three different prongs. One towards Malaya and the East Indies, one towards German New Guinea, and another forming up around the Philippines. Battleships, cruisers, carriers, transports, you name it."

    "They're going to invade," Harper said. "And there's nothing we can do to stop them."

    "What do you mean we can't do anything to stop them!" Pershing exclaimed. "The entire Pacific Fleet plus all those British-" He was cut off by Sergeant Basilone, who, along with all the other World War era soldiers who had fought the Japanese, gave him a grim look.

    "I mean this with the utmost respect sir, but that same line of thinking is what got so many men killed early in the war." Basilone said. "You can think of them as slant eyed monkeys all you want, but don't underestimate their willingness or ability to kill you."

    "And believe us, they have no lack of ability to kill." Sergeant Rodriguez added. "All those ships bottled up in the Philippines will be nothing but big, fat targets for Jap planes."

    "Which is exactly what we've told the higher ups. We suggested getting all those ships out of there and towards Hawaii, others wanted to send the rest of our fleet to confront them, and a few want them to hold their positions to intimidate the Japanese." Hoffman said. "Suffice to say that last one got ridiculed and shot down pretty quickly."

    "And what about the first two?" One of the downtime American soldiers asked.

    "Sending our fleet directly into Japan's backyard is not a fight we'd win," Private Jennings said. "That's exactly what they want and both us and them know how that fight will end."

    "So we're just supposed to leave our men out there to die at the hands of those slant eyed bastards?" Said an older, crustier looking Master Sergeant who looked old enough to have fought in the Spanish-American War.

    "After all the men we lost to claim the Philippines in the first place? After all the friends I lost in that place?" Another soldier, an obvious veteran of the Philippine-American War added.

    "Have you listened to nothing we've been saying this entire time?" Harper said in annoyance. "It won't be a fight, it'll be a slaughter if we send our fleet to the Philippines!" The Master Sergeant looked as if he were about to say something, but was cut off by one of the Marines.

    "And if you don't want to listen to her, then listen to us! We spent the last two years fighting those bastards!" One of them said, "Those boys in the Philippines are screwed if the Japs decide to attack."

    "Yeah, if you thought Pearl Harbor was bad, all those ships bottled up in port…" The Marine trailed off. They all understood what he meant and what it meant for the thousands of American, British, and Australian sailors in the Philippines. If the Japanese decided to attack, it would be almost certain death for them. The thought depressed them, downtime or uptime. The thought that they'd be unable to do anything while Japan runs wild in Asia, and massacres all those who stand in their way.

    "So what can we do, sir?" Jennings asked, looking over at Captain Hoffman.

    "We've all made it clear to President Roosevelt that holding the Philippines in the event of war isn't possible. But we might not have to fight a war. At least not yet."

    "What do you mean? I thought you said their fleets were moving to blockade the Philippines?"

    "They are. However, Radio Tokyo is picking up transmissions from all over the West Coast, and all they keep hearing makes them think that the entire United States from either 1943 or 2024 is present, and a lot of them are scared shitless." Hoffman said. "Which is why we've picked up a multitude of messages from Tokyo aimed at the West Coast, asking for, and I quote 'An end to all trade restrictions and a treaty of understanding in this new world.' They think that we're either two years into a war with them or damn near a century ahead of them, neither of which is boding well for their military ambitions."

    "Yet they're moving their whole damned fleet around the Pacific according to you, you think they're just doing it for shits and giggles?" Sergeant Morgan said.

    "Not at all. We know for a fact their gonna invade Southeast Asia and take every German colony in the region, which is why we warned the Aussies and Kiwis to get the fuck out. But they don't have to worry about a British or German Empire coming to contest them." Hoffman replied. "But they have to worry about us, at least for the moment. Their military is still in a state of chaos and probably isn't in a position to fight us right now. But that's liable to change real soon though."

    "Speaking of the Germans sir, you said it was them and the Japanese that have the higher ups pissed." Harper inquired.

    "Yeah, what'd the Krauts do that gots the higher ups pissed off?" Sergeant Basilone asked as a large flight of P-40 Warhawks flew in formation overhead, followed by a pair of F-15 Eagles who screamed above the Warhawks at full afterburner, AIM-9 Sidewinders mounted on their wings.

    "The hell are those mounted on their wings?" One of the Marines asked, looking over at the Oregon Guardsmen, his expression changing as he saw the looks on their faces.

    "Those are from Kingsley Field!" One of them commented. "And they're loaded for bear! What the hell is going on?"

    They got their answer as air raid sirens in the city began to blare. More planes from the 332nd Fighter Group, as well as a number of B-25 bombers, raced northwest, towards Astoria. A few seconds later, every radio among the uptime soldiers and marines began blaring to life with panicked voices and commands issued over the net. Then, a number of Humvees and Jeeps came racing up the street, tires screeching as they came to a stop in front of the State Capitol, and dozens of soldiers piled out, and began rushing towards the building.

    "JAP SHIPS OFF THE COAST!" One of the World War Two soldiers shouted as he ran past the group of American servicemen, through the parking lot, and into the building.

    "The fuck?" Sergeant Roberts exclaimed. "How the hell did they get through?"

    "No fucking idea," Captain Hoffman said, turning his head to a Army Guardsmen and waving him forward. "Hey, what the hell's going on?" The soldier, a Corporal, turned and looked towards Hoffman, and gestured up north.

    "A group of submarines surfaced off the coast up north." The Corporal shouted as he came to a stop in front of the group. "Started shelling the beaches near Astoria and Fort Stevens! Fuckers even launched a couple of planes before the Coast Guard and Navy sunk them!"

    "Still doesn't explain how the hell they managed to sneak through the most heavily defended coastline on the planet!" Harper said, looking over at Captain Hoffman, who had an unreadable expression on his face.

    "Because they didn't sneak past it. Not really." Hoffman said, looking over at Lieutenant Harper, and motioning for her to follow him. "Follow me Lieutenant, we need to talk."

    "The hell you mean they didn't sneak past the fleet? How else would they have gotten there?" Sergeant Morgan asked, but was ignored as Hoffman left the group with Lieutenant Harper in tow.

    "The fuck was that about?" Sergeant Rodriguez asked.

    "I don't know," Jennings said, looking up at another group of Warhawks flying overhead. "But I think this situation just got a whole lot worse for us."
     
    Chapter 5: Briefing and Attack
  • Oregon State Capitol
    Salem, Oregon
    United States of America
    June 28th, 2024/November 17th 1943/December 17th 1907/July 1812
    17 Days After The Event


    When President Theodore Roosevelt witnessed the strange flashes of light enveloping the city of Washington early on the morning of December 1st, he had thought he was seeing the Second Coming of Jesus Christ himself. But when the light dissipated he was met with the arrival of an entire brigade of United States Marines. Marines that, when initially questioned by a confused populace, claimed they were fighting the Germans.

    That had caused a great deal of confusion among the civilians, as well as what few soldiers were inside the city. Some 10,000 Marines, dressed and equipped for war, were now wandering around the nation's capital, all of which also claimed that it was the year 1918. But that was just the start of Roosevelt's troubles over the next few days.

    Reports of strange lights came in from across the country, and before long the whole country found itself in a state of confusion. The border with Canada and Mexico looked nothing like it had before. The cities of Toronto, Vancouver, Victoria, and Tijuana were completely unrecognizable, if they were even there at all. Even more odd was the appearance of wooden sailing and warships straight out of the last century. Cities such as New York, Boston, Norfolk, Savannah, and Seattle were host to wooden sail ships, sloops, and even a frigate. A frigate belonging to the United States Navy, and whose crew claimed it was 1812.

    More reports flooded in about strange military formations appearing across the country, others talking about whole states having disappeared, and being replaced. Reports of strange airplanes and flying machines. None of it made any sense. Then he saw one of the strange flying machines flying over the White House, and could even see men inside the strange black machines.

    Over the next few days, the true extent of what had happened became clear to Roosevelt, and his administration. God, in all his infinite wisdom, had sent the United States of 1904, to the year 1812. Most of the United States anyway. A handful of states and almost all its overseas territories, had been replaced by versions from the future. Some by decades, others by over a century. There were also a number of Army and Navy units from the future, from coast to coast, who looked primed and ready for a fight!

    It seemed almost unimaginable, yet the proof was undeniable. Once the shock and disbelief had worn off, Roosevelt went to see it for himself. He, along with his Secretary of State Philander Knox, Secretary of War Jacob Dickinson, Army Chief of Staff Major General Frank Bell, Navy Secretary Victor Metcalf, along with a handful of other Army and Naval officers, came to the West Coast to discuss the implications of what had happened, and what they needed to do going forward.

    In Portland they were met with an assortment of officers from the Army, Navy, Marine, and some branch called the "Air Force", as well as the governors of Oregon, Washington, and California, and a number of other important looking individuals. When the meeting began, Roosevelt and his cabinet had high hopes and were looking forward to what these marvelous, if very strange, Americans from the future.

    But the longer the meeting went on, the quicker their moods soured. In the year they came from, 1907, tensions between the United States and Japan were high, and Germany was a rising power in Europe whose ships had visited the United States only months earlier in New York. Now the United States was somehow sent back in time to the year 1812, but they weren't the only ones.

    They shared this world with a Germany who was the strongest European nation in the time they came from, and a Japan that was gearing up for war with the United States. A war that the United States as a whole was unprepared to fight. Not counting the states and territories from the future, the United States of 1907 was nearly a decade behind Germany, and nearly four decades behind Japan in terms of technological advancement.

    That alone had unsettled and upset President Theodore Roosevelt and his cabinet. As the briefing went on and more officers had filtered in and out of the room, including officers bringing in fresh intelligence from Joint Army-Air Force listening facilities in Oregon and New Hampshire, their feelings had turned into ones of rage and disbelief. Especially when news of Japanese and German military movements aimed at the United States were delivered.

    "So, this is how it is?" President Theodore Roosevelt asked with a severe look on his face. "This is what the United States now faces?"

    "I'm afraid so, Mr President," Replied Major General Michael Stencel, the Adjutant Commander of the Oregon National Guard. "The situation we now face is more grim than it appears and it will only get worse as time progresses."

    "I must admit, this is not what I expected to hear when I arrived." Theodore Roosevelt said in a dour tone, his face equally as severe. "After seeing those technological marvels in West Virginia, Florida, and Arkansas, as well as those lovely Marines in Washington, I was under the impression that we'd be far ahead of the German and Japanese Empires."

    "In many respects Mr President, we very much are," Said Tina Kotek, governor of the state of Oregon. "As you've seen for yourself, we're leaps and bounds ahead of both Germany and Japan in many respectives."

    Roosevelt and those he brought with him viewed the governor rather strangely. There were no female senators or congressmen anywhere else in the country, yet here she was. A female governor of a state with a population of over four million people. A female governor with a wife! Yet despite how so many of those in the room looked at her, she seemed completely unbothered by it. The same could be said with the assortment of civilian and military leadership he'd seen from these "21st Century States".

    "But as we've said previously, our biggest problem is our supply chains," Said Lieutenant General Delos Emmons, the Commanding General of the Western Defence Command. "We're completely cut off from most of our sources of supply. While we have large amounts of men and material all around the West Coast, as well as a number of factories, we'll have the Devil's own time keeping said factories running."

    "I will say however that the forces we have are more than enough to protect our shores from either The Kaiser or the Japs." Admiral Chester Nimitz added, the expression on his face mirroring that of President Roosevelt, and many of the senior Army and Navy officers in the room.

    He was the man chosen by Franklin Roosevelt to lead the fight against the Japanese in the Pacific. He had been given orders by Roosevelt to get out to Pearl Harbor and not come back until the United States sat in Tokyo Bay, and the Japanese Empire was no more. And just when the United States had begun to gain the upper hand in the Pacific, and ready to hit back against the Japanese, "The Event" happened, sending nearly the entire Pacific Coast back in time, and depriving the United States of so many men, ships, and bases it would need to fight Japan.

    This was something on the minds of so many of his fellow officers who hailed from the year 1943. What would become of the United States back home? Would Japan prevail in the Pacific now that every major installation and ship from Honolulu to San Francisco was now gone? Would the United States have to sign a peace with Japan? Nimitz dreaded to think about that, and tried to focus on the current situation.

    "We we're gearing up for a large push towards the Central Pacific when this 'Event' happened, and even discounting the ships which have seemingly come back from the grave, have a substantial number of ships up and down the Pacific Coast. If they try to invade the United States or anywhere on this continent, we can, and will beat them back." Vice Admiral William Halsey said with great confidence.

    "But that doesn't help our boys in the Philippines should the Japanese strike." Roosevelt pointed out. "Or any of the other island possessions we currently hold in the Pacific west of Hawaii. In fact, you all seem to be arguing in favor of abandoning them in the face of the Japanese in the event of war."

    "Mr President, the Japan you knew in 1907 is not the Japan of 1941 that we now face," Admiral Nimitz said. "The Japan we now face was gearing up for war against the United States and the European powers in Asia. A Japan with an untouched industrial base and military that was the best in the Pacific at the start of the war."

    "And while we have many experienced sailors and pilots who've fought and won against the Japanese, our own industrial base is severely limited, and overall military strength is still lower than that of Japan." Vice Admiral Raymond Spruance said. "We have no means to replace any of our fleet carriers, and production of light carriers in Washington will be very slow. The same goes with any replacement aircraft, to say nothing of pilots and crew."

    "In a sick twist of fate, the situation between America and Japan in World War Two is now reversed," One 21st century naval officer said. "Japan had no ability to keep up with American industrial might or replace its losses in a timely manner. Now we sit in the position Japan once sat in, only much worse."

    "We can't replicate most of our equipment in anything short of years if at all, our factories will need to fix their supply issues before resuming production, to top it off our nation is split between three separate eras in history." An uptime army officer finished. "Meanwhile Germany and Japan, have all their industry intact, a complete and clear chain of command, aren't split between three eras of time, and are geared or gearing up for a war."

    "To put it simply, Mr President, we cannot hold the Philippines or Guam in case of war with Japan." General Stencel said. "They are too far and too deep into Japanese territory to support and resupply, and no matter how badly we may want to."

    "So that's it then?" Admiral Robley Evans exclaimed. "You would so readily abandon thousands of American soldiers and sailors to those little yellow barbarians?"

    "We may not have a choice, Admiral Evans," Major General Frank Bell said with a heavy sigh.

    "We have all seen these technological marvels in these states, and there's nothing like these in the Philippines." Lieutenant General Arthur MacArthur said. "If they say the Japanese have these, and I see no reason to doubt them, our boys in the Philippines will be slaughtered."

    "So that's it then," President Roosevelt said, slowly taking his glasses off, and wiping them clean with a handkerchief. "After all the blood and treasure we spent to take the Philippines we can do nothing to defend them. Despite all these wonderful soldiers and weapons I've seen these last few weeks, nothing can be done to defend the Philippines."

    "Mr President, our navy could sortie to the Philippines, but we'd be running into the jaws of a fully intact, and waiting Japanese Fleet." Admiral Nimitz admitted. "We'd be facing an enemy that would outnumber us, outgun us, and have crews that are better trained than most of our own. If we lost those men and ships, we'd be opening the United States up to attacks not just in Hawaii, but also the West Coast."

    "And the West Coast contains the vast majority of our strategic industry vital to protecting our country." Governor Kotek added.

    "And if we lose our shield, and the Japanese can strike us here on the West Coast, we'd be forced into a situation the United States hasn't faced since the War of 1812, and indeed even worse than that. We would be faced with very uncomfortable options." General Stencel finished, not needing to elaborate further.

    Portland had a thriving microchip industry which, while not as robust or advanced as others around the 21st century United States, or in Taiwan, which would be invaluable for maintaining some semblance of 21st century life. California and Washington held factories that manufactured everything from M4 Shermans, Boeing B-17 Flying Fortresses, and Casablanca Class light aircraft carriers.

    If those industries were open to attack by the Japanese Empire, they could cripple the majority of America's advanced civilian and war making industry. But that would only be possible if the American Navy was dealt a crippling blow. A blow that Japan could give if the U.S. Navy sortied out to meet the Imperial Japanese Navy head on. A "Decisive Battle" that Admiral Yamamoto and the Japanese Navy sought out against the United States during the entire Pacific War. A battle that would force the United States to sue for peace and suffer the humiliation of a peace dictated by one of America's worst enemies.

    "Which is why remaining on the defensive is so critical right now," Commander Samantha Roberts added. She was CO of one of the two Ticonderoga Class Cruisers caught in the event, and the only one in the Pacific. The USS Lake Champlain, like the handful of other ships she was in charge of escorting from Bremerton Naval Yard, were scheduled to have been decommissioned over the last couple of years.

    However, due to multiple brushfire wars and rising tensions with China, many ships were being called up from reserve or getting a life extension. Lake Champlain was one such ship, and was heading down to San Diego Naval Base before heading off to the Western Pacific against the Chinese. When "The Event" occurred, Commander Roberts was escorting two Avenger Class Minesweepers alongside the Littoral Combat Ships USS Independence and USS Freedom. Now the ships were anchored in Portland and Astoria alongside the Coast Guard, and the assortment of foreign naval vessels left over from Fleet Week.

    "However, we may not have to go to war." An Air Force Intel Major by the name of Anderson said. "As stated before, both Japan and Germany want to open talks with the United States. Mostly Japan as they seem to think we're either at war with them, or our entire country is from 2024."

    "But we can't ignore the possibility that such chatter might be an attempt to trick or mislead us." General Stencel said. "If what we're hearing from the Japanese is correct, and we see no reason to suggest otherwise, they are three months from carrying out the attack on Pearl Harbor, and are in desperate need of resources for their military. They may yet decide to go to war with us anyway."

    "Which is why I want to know what you plan to do about it!" President Roosevelt demanded. "If the Japanese are as much of a threat as you all claim it is, then what can we do in the event of war! And please tell me it doesn't involve abandoning our boys across The Pacific!"

    General Stencel let out a weary sigh and it was Admiral Nimitz who spoke up.

    "Most of us came to the conclusion that the best course of action for all the ships currently seeking shelter in the Philippines is to retreat to the Hawaiian Islands, outside the reach of Japanese forces, and well within our defensive perimeter. However, many of the ships in the Philippines do not have the range to reach Hawaii without oilers or colliers to refuel them." Nimitz said. "But we have a relief force ready to set sail from Hawaii to reinforce Wake and Guam, as well as help evacuate those ships from the Philippines. We're just waiting for the go ahead to send them west."

    "For God sake, what are you waiting for Admiral!? Send them already and get those men out of there!" Roosevelt exclaimed and both Nimitz and Halsey smiled. Turning to a nearby Ensign, Nimitz said.

    "Get word to Admiral Spruance and Turner to get Task Force 50 sailing for the Philippines immediately!" Nimitz ordered.

    "Yes sir!" The young officer replied, giving a quick salute before exiting the room.

    "And what about our men on the ground? There's thousands of soldiers in the Philippines stationed all over the archipelago!" General MacArthur said.

    "Withdrawing all of our troops from the Philippines in the short term is not feasible," General Emmons said. "It could very well send the Japs the wrong message and they'd launch an invasion immediately."

    "Not to mention just abandoning the Filipinos to the savagery of the Japanese Empire is simply intolerable." Governor Kotek said. "It's bad enough we occupied them after kicking the Spaniards out. The least we can do is ensure they don't fall victim to the Japanese and give them the independence they so want and deserve."

    It was at this point Roosevelt and most of his entourage looked at Governor Kotek as if she were insane. A few of the Army officers even looked at her in outright disdain or disgust, which was noticed by anyone paying attention.

    "She's right, you know," Commander Roberts said. "Politics and legality of the occupation aside, it would be setting a very terrible precedent to abandon them at the first sign of trouble. Even more so since they are more modern than the vast majority of the world and we cannot afford to cede ground to anyone here."

    "And it would make the Japanese believe we're weak, or at least weaker than we are, and they will exploit any perceived weakness." General Stencel added. "They are already exploiting such weakness against the Germans right now, and we don't want our men to suffer the fate of the Germans."

    "So what are you suggesting we do about it, General Stencel?" Roosevelt pressed. "What can we do about our soldiers in the Philippines!"

    "We suggest withdrawing troops from all but a few key positions in the Philippines, mostly in and around Manila Positions that would not only provide a tactical advantage, but easier to withdraw from should that become necessary."

    "There are also a number of orphaned troop ships in Manila and Subic Bay's right now," General Emmons said. "If need be, we can order those troops to help shore up defenses in the short term, especially in locations where we know the Japs would land. We could make it a very costly endeavor for the Japs should they choose to invade."

    "Which, hopefully, should prove unnecessary should these talks of peace from Japan be legitimate." Major Anderson reiterated.

    "Do you seriously expect us to treat with the Japs? After everything they did and are preparing to do?" Admiral Halsey said furiously.

    "We may not have a choice, Halsey," Nimitz said. "If nothing else, negotiation will buy us time to plan a new strategy."

    "But it also relies on the Japanese military wanting to negotiate in the first place," One Army officer said. "The Imperial Japanese Army wanted a war, especially Tojo. 'To back down would be a tremendous blow to the morale of the Army' is roughly how he justified it. And with all of their gains in China being made moot by this Act of God, they'll want to fight someone. And that someone is likely going to be the United States."

    "Either way, this is something we can't afford to pass up, either with Germany or Japan. The former of which is aware of what happened in Tsingtao, and is hinting at us negotiating with the Japanese to get their men back." Anderson added. "As Admiral Nimitz said, it buys us time if nothing else.

    "Even if we do consider negotiations," General Emmons began. "Where would we hold them? We sure as hell won't be bringing any Japs to the West Coast or Hawaii. We can't risk them getting a look at our defenses and reporting back to Tokyo. And if we send them further east, they'll find out just what situation the United States is in."

    "They might already know," Anderson replied. "They know the Philippines right now aren't from the future. And sooner or later, the Japanese will figure out the situation we're in, and that will make negotiations even more difficult for us."

    "Governor-General Smith is currently in the Philippines," President Roosevelt said. "We can inform him of the situation and direct him on how to negotiate with the Japanese if we need to."

    "Mr President, that might not be a good idea," Nimitz said. "Those in the Philippines will be completely out of their depth and unaware of the political situation facing them."

    "If we do open negotiations, it will have to be with individuals from our respective periods of time," Governor Kotek added. "That way negotiations will have a much better chance at succeeding. And I do believe a solution exists for where we can hold any potential talks."

    "Well Governor Kotek," President Roosevelt began, turning his gaze over to her. "Where do you propose we hold these talks with Japan?"

    "Juneau, Alaska." She answered. "Before the war with Japan, President Franklin Roosevelt suggested the city as a halfway point for talks with the Japanese Prime Minister. It won't put any valuable infrastructure at risk and there's thousands of troops, American and Canadian, defending it."

    "And we know how the Japanese planned to attack Alaska," Commander Roberts added. "They'd be sailing into the teeth of our navy, and we would sink the bastards."

    "Young lady, I would love to have an officer like you with my task force next time I go to sea. Think you and that magnificent ship of yours can come along?" Admiral Halsey asked, an approving smile on his face. At least the ranking naval officers in the room were polite and took her seriously.

    "Provided the fuel situation can be taken care of, you can count on my escorting you to Hawaii." Roberts replied. "However I would recommend the other ships stay behind in Oregon for the moment, they won't be of much use right now."

    "Fuel can be arranged, Commander," Admiral Nimitz said. "But I am in agreement with Halsey. I don't care what color you are, I need you, and I need your ship in Pearl. I have a feeling we're gonna need it."

    "And don't you worry about the crew either," Halsey added. "Nimitz and I will make sure they are taken care of when they arrive."

    "Well ain't this bully!" Roosevelt said, his spirit lifted to some degree. He was actually smiling, which made those in the room smile as well. Then a loud, droning sound began going off outside. A sound which many in the room were familiar with, and had them standing up as the armed soldiers and marines in the room reflexively took up positions near windows and doors. The air raid sirens in Salem were blaring to life and calls to take shelter were heard in the distance, followed by the roar of jet engines and propellers slicing through the air.

    As one of the National Guardsmen in the room pulled open the curtains on a nearby window, a flight of F-15's, followed closely by a flight of P-40 Warhawks, raced northward in the direction of Astoria.

    "That's not good," He said, turning back to those gathered in the room. "They're headed north, and look loaded for bear!"

    In his typical boisterous fashion, Roosevelt jumped up, and made his way over to the window, smiling like a little kid as he watched a flight of P-47's and even a group of B-25 bombers. In 1907 planes were only a few years old. Even biplanes were an impressive sight for the President, to say nothing of P-40's, B-25's, or the jet fighters of the modern U.S. Air Force. But before he could remark on the sight before him, a group of soldiers and guardsmen burst through the doors in the room, panicked looks on their faces.

    "Japanese submarines off the coast!" One of the Guardsmen said as he rushed in.

    "WHAT!?" Came the simultaneous reply of a dozen different people in the room.

    "They started shelling Astoria and the Navy and Coast Guard are engaging them now, but we have to move you all to safety immediately!" Another soldier said, gently, but firmly grabbing the arm of President Roosevelt, and ushering him out. "I'm sorry, Mr President!"

    "Oh, don't be sorry, young soldier!" Roosevelt replied in his cheerful manner, following as he was directed, by the soldiers and Guardsmen who rounded up everyone present, and escorted them to a convoy of armored Humvees and M117 ASV's waiting outside. As President Roosevelt was loaded into the back of one of the ASV's, he marveled at the interior and design of the vehicle. "Bully I say!"

    "If you think this is awesome, you should see a Bradley or Stryker, Mr President!" Said the same Guardsman who escorted him into the vehicle.

    "Young man, there is a great deal I can't wait to see! But first, we must deal with these perfidious Japs who have attacked our great nation!" Roosevelt exclaimed. "And I do believe we will make them pay dearly for this treachery!"

    "Alright, let's go!" A Sergeant shouted from the entrance outside the ASV. Slamming the door shut, he slammed on the hull three times, and the vehicle lurched forward, joining the convoy now leaving the Oregon State Capitol, and heading for Camp Withycombe Army National Guard Base.
     
    Chapter 6: Battle of Astoria
  • Off the Coast of Astoria, Oregon
    United States of America
    June 28th, 2024/November 17th 1943/December 17th 1907/July 1812
    17 Days After The Event


    Lieutenant Commander Akiji Tagami looked out at the scene before him with utter confusion and more than a little alarm.

    Shortly before arriving at their destination off the Western Coast of the United States, a strange storm enveloped them, churning the seas above them, and forcing Tagami to keep his submarine beneath the waves longer than he wanted. The air inside I-25 was stale and foul, his batteries needed to be charged, which seemed to have been drained much quicker in the storm, and his men could use some time out in the sun. And his men going out on the deck meant they could shell targets on the California coast.

    But when he reached periscope depth, and looked out at the coast, there were a few things that shocked him. The first and most obvious being the coastline. The volume of ship traffic, especially in naval vessels, was high. Disturbingly high. Even in regards to civilian merchant vessels, there were just so many of them, and so closely packed together. It’s as if the Americans forgot that there was even a war on.

    Even the beaches were packed with civilians and soldiers both. Tagami couldn't have asked for a better cluster of targets than this. He gave the order to surface and for his crew to man their battle stations, and for the pilots aboard his submarine, to man their plane, and proceed with their mission to firebomb American targets of opportunity.

    This was something the other submarine commanders had decided as well, as two more surfaced, men scrambling across the deck to the guns, and preparing the floatplanes for take off. At this point the Americans on the beaches had noticed the submarines, as did a number of the ships, including what appeared to be at least one destroyer with orange stripes across it. It didn’t matter. The 5.5 inch deck gun began to bark and high explosive shells flew into the nearby American town, sending the cowardly Americans fleeing for their lives.

    To the south, an American cargo vessel burst into flames as two torpedoes from nearby sub slammed into it. Tagami watched in satisfaction as lifeboats were lowered into the water as flames overtook the ship. Another submarine’s deck gun had already claimed hits on another ship, a rather large ship, which was fleeing north as fast as it could. Even one of the four Yokosuka E14Y’s launched by a nearby sub had strafed the deck of the ship.

    But that would be the end of Tagami’s, and the other submarines, good fortune. Only a few seconds later, a flight of red tailed fighters swarmed the floatplane, releasing a stream of bullets into the aircraft, shredding the airframe, and sending it tumbling down into the sea. And right as Lieutenant Commander turned his attention back towards the shore, his world went black.
    —----------------------------------

    Warrant Flying Officer Nobuo Fujita and Petty Officer Okuda Shoji looked out at the scene before them in disbelief and more than a little fear. When they had surfaced off the American West Coast and given the order to launch, it was assumed they had caught the Americans off guard. The reports told them of the coastlines packed with ships and residential areas full of people. By the time they had gotten into the air with the other pilots of the Imperial Japanese Navy, one American ship was burning, another was being shelled and harassed by one of the other E14Y’s, and fires and shell craters could be seen along the beach.

    However, Fujita and his observer soon found that the Americans were not ‘asleep at the switch’ as they liked to say. Just moments after getting airborne, the American reply was swift and brutal. A large assortment of planes ranging from PBY Catalinas, to previously unknown fighter models with red tails, swooped in on the small group of float planes and submarines.

    Depth charges dropped from Catalinas and machine guns from fighters, and cannon fire from rapidly approaching US Navy destroyers and Coast Guard cutters bracketed the submarines, who put up a valiant, but ultimately futile resistance.

    Even their own submarine, the I-25, was struck in the conning tower by the opening shot of a Coast Guard cutter, shearing through the conning tower of the submarine, followed by two more hits in rapid succession. The I-25 sank moments later, taking its crew down to a watery grave. Another submarine attempted an emergency dive, but a low flying SBD Dauntless dropped a 500 pound bomb directly where it was, followed a second later by a large explosion.

    The two others fared little better. The captain of one put to flank speed, heading for the shore as fast as possible, and beaching itself as a dozen different fighters continuously strafed it. The fourth and final submarine had managed to dive quickly enough, but neither of the men doubted its eventual fate as its location was swarmed by American ships and planes.

    Now realizing this was a one way trip, Fujita and the two remaining E14Y’s flew east, hoping to find suitable targets to strafe and bomb before they were shot down. A fate, Fujita noted, was inevitable. An inevitability reinforced by the fact that they were all taking fire from pursuing American war planes.

    “There are many Americans following us!” Petty Officer Shoji said as he brought the Type 92 machine gun to bear on the American fighters.

    “Just keep them off us for a little longer!” Fujita ordered. “I see targets up ahead!” Passing over the entrance to the Columbia River and over Fort Stevens, Fujita could see the town of Astoria, and its port facilities, directly ahead.

    “We have American ships in port directly ahead!” Said the pilot of the plane to Fujita’s port side, before the plane burst into flames from a pursuing P-40 Warhawk, who continued to pump bullets into the stricken plane even as it spiraled down in flames directly into the river below.

    Fujita jinked his plane the best he could to avoid the incoming fire, but the Americans were just more maneuverable, and far too numerous. He could feel the impact of bullets as he shook his plane, but was unable to do anything about it. Fujita just needed a little bit longer, and he’d be directly over the port facilities ahead.

    His wingman off starboard went down next, those red tailed devil planes shearing his wing off with cannon fire, and forcing him to crash into the waters just off Fort Stevens. He scowled, putting his plane through its paces and desperately trying to get more speed from the engine. And then, just as he could begin to make out the shape, Fujita saw something out of the corner of his eye rapidly approaching from the south.

    “Sir, the Americans are pulling back!” Petty Officer Shoji said, very obviously confused. “Why would they…” he paused, glancing over to his left and seeing a formation of arrow shaped aircraft heading directly towards them.

    “INCOMING!” Fujita shouted as the strange planes emitted a loud roar which drowned out the sound of even their own engine, and deafened them. One of the planes passed maybe a dozen meters overhead, and a jet of hot air slammed into the plane, forcing it into a hard right downward turn.

    Fujita tried to fight the turbulence and regain control of the aircraft, but another of the strange planes flew directly over them again, once more knocking them around like a toy, and sending them dangerously low to the river’s surface. Petty Officer Shoji tried desperately to fire on them, but they were just too fast. And then, a flight of P-40 Warhawks flew in from 5 O’Clock High, riddling the starboard wing and fuselage with bullets, and killing Shoji instantly.

    His engine caught fire and his controls were dead. Slowly, but steadily, he was going down. Behind him, the P-40’s pulled off from their pursuit, and on the water, a host of fast boats were following him, or heading to his likely point of crashing. He couldn’t bail out, not this low, and especially not with a parachute. He had his Nambu pistol and an extra magazine for it. If he survived the crash, Fujita would make the Americans pay before he died.

    If he survived. As the plane finally made contact with the water, he jerked forward in his seat, and everything went black.
    —---------------------------------
    “Bully!” President Theodore Roosevelt exclaimed as he watched two M1128 Mobile Gun Systems rumble past, heading towards the main gate of Camp Withycombe, followed by two upgunned Humvees. “This is just bully! Look at those mighty guns! Tell me young man, just what are those lovely wheeled fortresses, and what caliber are those beautiful guns!”

    “Stryker Mobile Gun Systems, Mr President!” Replied Private First Class Daniel O’Rourke. “And the gun itself fires 105 millimeter rounds.”

    “Four point one inch guns,” Commented Major General Leonard Wood as he stared in awe at the small convoy of light armored vehicles passing by. “Those are light naval guns you got there, and you mean to tell me we had much bigger than that in the time you came from?” He asked.

    “Yes sir, we do. Tanks and artillery pieces mostly. Those go up to 155 millimeters in size.”

    “It's a damn shame when the Army has bigger guns than the Navy does.” Admiral Evans huffed. “The guns I’ve seen on most of these ships, yours included, are glorified peashooters in comparison to the guns of our battleships!”

    “Your battleships don’t have an answer to a 500 pound bomb that can hit any part of a ship with pinpoint accuracy. Especially when those parts include the bridge or directly atop where the ammunition is stored.” Replied one of the uptime naval officers, right as President Roosevelt stepped out into the street in front of a slowly approaching MGS, and began to call out.

    “Now just a moment there, soldiers! I want to see this big, lumbering beast up close! By God Leonard, do you see this wonderful machine!” He said as the vehicle came to a halt, and began to climb atop it, much to the chagrin of the driver, and amusement of those watching the procedures. “Private O’Rourke, do be a lad and use that incredibly tiny camera of yours, and get me a picture with this gun!”

    “Yes sir, Mr President,” O’Rourke said, wasting no time to pull out his phone, and set up the camera app. All the while General Leonard Wood and Admiral Evans looked on at the display in complete bewilderment. Both the President’s behavior and the incredibly tiny ‘cell phone’ had left both men absolutely speechless. “All set sir! Ready whenever you are!”

    “Bully!” Roosevelt said, slapping the barrel of the M1128, and leaning his right arm along the length of the gun, while staring directly ahead. One audible click later, signifying the picture was taken, O’Rourke gave the president a thumbs up, which was returned with a very wide, and very amused smile. “Thank you for humoring me, soldiers. Now I understand that you boys have a job to do, and I shall leave you to it! Good day!”

    “The history books weren’t exaggerating,” PFC Jennings commented. “The man really was this energetic and vibrant.”

    “That’s the man who charged up San Juan Hill in 1898 and took a bullet to the chest and kept on giving his speech.” Another soldier added.

    “Now, Private O’Rourke, let me take a look at this photograph you took of me!” He said, walking up to O’Rourke, and looking at the tiny screen with a look of pure, untamed excitement and wonder. Colored photos existed in 1907, but not like the kind an IPhone or Android could take and produce. To President Roosevelt, it was as if he was staring at a mirror image of himself, a moment frozen in time in its exact detail. “Leonard, Evans, get over here and see this magnificent photograph! No, no, how about letting this young man take a picture of you gentlemen as well! O’Rourke, point that lovely contraption at them and take a photograph!”

    General Wood, Admiral Evans, and the rest of the assorted cabinet that Roosevelt had brought along looked absolutely befuddled at the scene before them. Seeing the president be overtaken with such childlike glee at the sight of these pieces of futuristic technology, at a time like this was concerning. Despite the current crisis which had the country split into three different periods of time, and despite the fact that the United States was under attack by Japan, his spirit was still high.

    But just as quickly as he had become joyous and upbeat, he became serious once more.

    “Now soldiers, I do believe we have business to attend to, and plans to formulate against these dastardly Japanese cowards! Who do they think they are, bombing innocent women and children on the beach! We’ll show those pussycats what for! And the Kaiser if he so wishes to cause trouble as well!” Roosevelt declared defiantly. “Now lead us to this ‘Tactical Operations Center’ your officers and sergeants are talking about!”
    —---------------------------
    Springfield Listening Array
    Springfield Air National Guard Base
    Springfield, Oregon
    18 Days Post Event


    “Just what the hell is going on out there?” Captain Alex Hoffman exclaimed as he entered the Tactical Operations Center of the fledgling Air Force base.

    Over the last 24 hours things had gone from bad to worse. While they had been aware of some chatter from the Germans about sending a punitive expedition to the Caribbean, and specifically Cuba and Puerto Rico, there didn’t seem to be anything indicating that it was more than just talk. The news that a German naval fleet had left Wilhelmshaven and was heading towards the United States had already angered President Roosevelt and had many in the government and military worried.

    However, due to the transatlantic cables between America and Germany being present, as well as intercepted radio reports, indicated the fleet was on a diplomatic mission to the United States. They proclaimed their intention on visiting New York City and re-establishing relations with the United States, and seeking help against the Japanese Empire.

    That knowledge had helped calm down many in the government, until the events of yesterday. Four Japanese submarines surfaced off the coast of Oregon and began lobbing shells at the beach and residential houses, while also launching seaplanes loaded with small bombs. While all four submarines and their accompanying planes were destroyed, they had sunk one ship, damaged another, and killed five civilians in Oregon.

    President Roosevelt, as well as governor Kotek, and virtually the entire military command was infuriated. Despite having sunk the offending Japanese submarines fairly quickly, the fact they had even managed to get close at all was a humiliating defeat in its own right. With how militarized the West Coast was, nothing short of a 21st century submarine should have been able to get that close. At least, not unless it somehow got right behind the Navy’s defensive perimeter. Then there was the presence of two Imperial Japanese Navy Kawanishi HK8 Flying boats that had appeared on radar extremely close to Hawaii only one hour later.

    The two planes appeared out of a small storm, and were met with over 30 P-40 Warhawks vectored to meet them in the air. Both were swarmed and shot down with both crews being killed in the engagement. From this point onwards the entire West Coast, including Hawaii and Alaska, were on full alert. Even forces all along the East Coast and in the Caribbean were on full alert, in case any German U-Boats happened to show up, or anything else.

    “I-I’m honestly not sure, sir,” First Lieutenant Denise Harper said, standing up from her console, picking up the report print out given to her by one of her subordinates on the listening equipment. “We’re picking up a number of frantic transmissions from all over the Western Pacific.” She handed him the printout and Hoffman took it. He scanned through the first page, eyes going wide at what was written on the first page. He flipped to the second, again he quickly skimmed through it, which he repeated with several other pages, before looking back at Harper, confusion and disbelief written across his face.

    “You’ve got to be shitting me!” Hoffman exclaimed, looking back down at the report in his hand.

    “I’m afraid not sir,” She said. “The Japanese have been screaming about this for the last half day or so. And as for the other radio transmissions we’ve picked up, there’s no way those are coming from any IJN warship. And we’re both familiar with those signal types and encryptions. Not only is this well above anything the Japanese have, they wouldn’t know any of these callsigns or identifiers. These are legitimate.”

    “Jesus Christ,” Hoffman sighed, shaking his head while flipping through the pages again.

    Radio reports of a Japanese battleship hitting a mine and being subsequently torpedoed. Japanese forces engaging what appeared to be a midget submarine which torpedoed a cruiser before being sunk. Another report about a midget submarine running aground on a beach in Japan, and armed men fleeing into the surrounding area.

    Then there was what was indisputably modern radio signals and intercepts coming from the Western Pacific, in Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and even English. The data link with the few satellites in orbit had triangulated one group of signals off the coast of Hainan Island. It was there that radio intercepts from a Japanese scout plane reported two strange and unidentified vessels, before abruptly being cut off.

    “Are they still transmitting right now?” Hoffman asked, flipping to the last page, his gaze became fixated on the name of an island that was synonymous with the brutality of the Pacific Campaign in World War Two.

    Iwo Jima.
     
    Chapter 7: Battle of New York
  • Springfield Listening Array
    Springfield Air National Guard Base
    Springfield, Oregon
    18 Days Post Event


    "Yes sir, we're still in contact with them right now, as well as the Japanese Coast Guard on Marcus Island. They seem to have figured out what's going on right now and are staying put. We told them we would try to send help, but there's no guarantee we can."

    "Yeah, well I can guarantee you that not one person in the military or government wants the JSDF garrison, all their equipment, and the hundreds of Americans and Australians on Iwo Jima falling into the hands of the Japanese Empire." Hoffman said, running a hand through his hair as he let out an exasperated sigh. "And the rest of this…is a clusterfuck."

    In addition to Iwo Jima, the inhabited islands of the Ogasawara subprefecture were now present in this world. A collection of small, but modern islands with a population around 3,000 people, with examples of modern technology and knowledge of history. All of that just six hundred miles south of the Japanese mainland.

    "I think that's putting it lightly, sir. We already have many clamoring for war with the Japanese and this isn't going to make it any better. Especially when many in Japan also want war with the United States." She said.

    "The perfect storm of events to start a war that we're unprepared for," Hoffman began, going down to the summary of the report on the bottom of the page, and reading the list of callsigns and ship names present. "Most of these damn ships should have been sunk! Good lord, this is going to be a damn mess." Harper merely nodded her head in response to her Flight Commander's frustration.

    She and her unit had picked up transmissions from no fewer than three United States Navy ships and at least two Republic of Korea Navy ships operating in the Yellow Sea. They were operating very far from home and dangerously close to the shores of Japan, whose navy was already on high alert. But what unnerved her the most was the names of the ships in question, and the year they claimed to be from.

    The ROKS Cheonan, a Pohang Class Corvette sunk by North Korea in 2010, was the first ship identified, which startled a number of them. The next was PKM 357, a Chamsuri Class Patrol Boat sunk during the 2002 Battle of Yeonpyeong. The three American ships identified themselves as the USS Curtis Wilbur, USS Shiloh, and USS Harpers Ferry. The exact three ships who helped in the search for the sunken Cheonan, of which two were sunk in the last major clash with the Chinese Navy.

    All of the crews aboard the five ships were at a loss for what had happened, and initially refused to believe Harper's claims about being sent back in time. That was until a flight of Mitsubishi Zeroes flew too close to the small flotilla of ships, attacked them, and were swatted from the sky with trivial ease.

    From that point onward, Harper and everyone else with radio contact told them to sail south and get out of the area as soon as possible. They would be running a dangerous gauntlet against the Japanese, but it was their only chance to avoid complete annihilation. Further south, three more ships, two Japanese, and one Korean, were identified.

    They were JS Yūbari, JS Matsuyuki, and ROKS Seoul. Three destroyers, all with equally confused and dazed crewmen, who were also unaware of what happened until they too were attacked, and repulsed said attackers. The eight ships knew they were in hostile territory and began a desperate attempt to meet up, and break out of Japanese territory.

    Near Hainan, what was assumed to be the Jiangdao Class Corvette Liupanshui, and Houjian Class Missile Boat Panyu, were sailing at flank speed towards the Paracel Islands, which were also broadcasting panicked messages that could be heard in Oregon.

    Finally, between Iwo Jima and the rest of the islands of the Ogasawara subprefecture, were two JMSDF replenishment vessels, JDS Sagami and Hamana, two destroyers, the JS Kurama and JS Ishikari, and an Ojika Class Patrol Vessel of the Japanese Coast Guard based at Marcus Island. There was also a photo taken by a satellite in orbit that suggested an unknown submarine was headed for mainland Japan, but no signals could be linked to it.

    Those ships, combined with the single Hayabusa Class Patrol Boat and an Australian Adelaide Class Frigate near Iwo Jima on a training exercise, made for a very formidable force of modern naval power. But that of course assumed the ships weren't destroyed piecemeal by Imperial Japanese Naval forces, or downtime American Naval forces whose first instinct would be to fire on any ship with a Japanese flag.

    "We're gonna have a lot of orphaned ships here on the West Coast, although I have no idea where the hell we can put them." Harper commented. "Our facilities in Oregon are at damn near full capacity and putting them in California or Washington isn't happening."

    "That assumes we can get them to the West Coast," Hoffman said darkly. "They could get swarmed by overwhelming numbers of Japanese ships and planes and sunk or the various Japanese ships might just decide to return to their homelands, and we'll have even more problems than we do now." Harper frowned at her Flight Commander's suggestion.

    "You really think that'll happen, do you?" She said, raising an eyebrow at him.

    "I honestly have no idea," he shrugged. "Like with the Germans, many of those in the Japanese military are right wing leaning or conservatives. Sure, I don't believe any of them will turn into banzai charging fanatics, but they would love to see Japan maintain its status as a great military power, without suffering the humiliating defeat of World War Two."

    "Even if that means siding with an Empire who'd view most of them as degenerates and too soft?" Harper argued. "Many of them are women, and you can't tell me that will go over well with them."

    "I'm not saying it would, but I am saying that many Japanese even today still view Japan as a victim in World War Two, and that's not even touching the atomic bombs." Hoffman's tone now changed to one of frustration. "And if they see a chance to prevent their country from going down the road they took in the first place, they would do it. And just the knowledge of each individual sailor alone would be worth its weight in gold to Japan. Especially our capabilities and weaknesses."

    "Like our listening arrays here and in Hawaii," Harper said. "Or that we've broken Japanese Naval Codes, and can listen to them freely."

    "That's just one issue we've been discussing lately. Granted, that was before a dozen Japanese ships appeared across the Pacific, with intentions we can only take a guess at." Hoffman paused, letting out another tired, frustrated sigh. "And of course this is before we get into the Bonin or fucking Paracel Islands. Japan will not give those up without a fight, but at the same time, neither can we." He shook his head in frustration. "Thanks for the heads up, Harper." He said, his face and expression softening.

    "What do we do now, sir?"

    "Right now I need you to stay online with those ships, keep the channels open, and let our sailors in Portland know what's going on. Maybe the Tico we got here can get in contact with them too. I'm gonna report this to our commander, and from there lord only knows what we'll do." As he turned to leave, he was met by a weary and pale faced A1C, with bloodshot eyes filled with pain and anger."

    "A high priority report from Pease, sir," The young man said, his voice cracking as he handed Hoffman the manila folder he held. "They got the Statue of Liberty sir. They blew her fucking head off."

    When he said that, everyone in the room turned to look at the man, expressions ranging from shock to outright disbelief.

    "Bullshit!" One of the Staff Sergeants in the room said. Harper's hands tightened into fists and her nails dug into her palms, while Hoffman's eyes twitched uncontrollably for a few seconds, rage threatening to burst forth. He took the folder, opened it, and was met with a summary of events having just taken place off New York City, with accompanying photographs.

    "God help us all," Hoffman said, handing the folder off to Lieutenant Harper, who was surrounded by the Section Chief and NCOIC of her team. Chief Williams looked as if he were about to explode, while Technical Sergeant O'Hare just stared blankly at the horrifying photos.

    There stood the Statue of Liberty, her upper torso gone! While the arm holding the torch jutted out from the waters around Liberty Island, her entire torso above the tabula ansata was just gone. Debris lay scattered all around Liberty Island and chunks lay just visible in the water. Near the entrance to the Lower Bay, sat a burning monitor, the USS Puritan.

    Another photo, taken from the camera of a Coast Guard helicopter, showed the culprit; A German Scharnhorst Class Battleship.

    By the time the photo was taken, the ship, identified as the German Battleship Scharnhorst, was dead in the water. It burned in the waters just a few miles east of Fort Hancock, as several American Battleships surrounded, and pounded the ship to pieces with their main guns. Directly ahead of the Scharnhorst in the Lower Bay was the battleship USS Alabama, alongside the armored cruisers USS New York, and USS Brooklyn, acting as a blocking force to prevent further movement into the bay ahead of the German ship.

    Behind it, the battleship Connecticut, the lead ship of the Great White Fleet, as well as the battleships Virginia, Illinois, and Missouri, shelled the Scharnhorst unceasingly.

    Another set of photos showed another German Battleship burning off Long Island, as the fast battleship USS Massachusetts ran her down, with battleships New York and newer Texas in hot pursuit. The time lapse photos showed her taking multiple hits, listing heavily to port, and fires raging on her deck.

    The next two photos, which would become an icon of American Naval Aviation, showed the crippling of the mighty Gneisenau.

    An SBD dropped a 1,000 pound bomb on the armored deck of the Scharnhorst, penetrating the deck just ahead of the forward turret, detonating the ammunition magazine. A strike which was followed up by a torpedo hit by an SB2U Vindicator, destroying the propellers, and leaving it dead in the water.

    Unable to escape, and two of her turrets already rendered inoperable, the American battleships and their escorting cruisers, and overhead dive bombers, let loose with a merciless barrage against the Germans. A direct hit from Massachusetts destroyed its third and final turret, while the Texas scored a direct hit on the bridge.

    The final summary detailed below, dated as being finalized not even half an hour ago, stated the two German warships were still sinking, and that surviving sailors were being picked up and executed. It was hinted in the summary that feelings of mercy were quite low between Americans from all three time periods. Fires still raged in New York from shells that landed around the city. While casualties were still being counted, they were most certainly in the thousands. Three Battleships, the Kearsarge, Kentucky, and Maine, were sunk outright by the German battleships, as well as the monitor Puritan.

    Many others sustained minor to severe damage, like the USS Indiana, who beached herself on the beaches of Fort Hancock to avoid sinking.

    "President Roosevelt is gonna be out for blood," One of the airmen in the room spoke aloud, falling back into his chair, and staring up at the ceiling.

    "Roosevelt is gonna be out for blood?" Harper said incredulously, her normally calm demeanor disappearing, and her native New York accent slipped out. "Chief Williams is from New York, I'm from New York! And our home just got attacked!"

    "Right when the Germans announce their sending a fleet to New York on a diplomatic mission," Hoffman said tiredly.

    "Something tells me that fleet isn't gonna get close to New York now." Technical Sergeant O'Hare said.

    "Oh it will, at least part of it. They'll just be under the guns of the entire Atlantic Fleet, begging them to step out of line just once." Hoffman said, flipping through the last few pages of the report, and sighing. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to be in for a long next couple of days."

    The secondary report detailed other radio transmission, more numerous, coming from Germany and locations around the Northern Atlantic. Modern transmissions, mirroring that of those in the Pacific, albeit with some rather outdated broadband frequencies and callsigns being used.

    "So what the fuck do we do now?"
    ------------------------
    Dorm 5
    Springfield ANG Base
    18 Days Post Event
    0930 Hours


    When 1st Lieutenant Denise Harper finally got off duty at just past 0900 hours today, the United States was in an uproar. President Roosevelt, upon being informed of the attack on New York City, and the damage wrought by the Germans, he wept. When she was finally alone in the confines of her own room, away from the world, and behind thick walls and a locked door, she too had wept.

    Like President Roosevelt, New York City was her home. Even if the New York City that existed now was a relic from the early 20th century, it was still New York! The Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, The Statue of Liberty, all still existed even in 1907, even if they weren't upgraded to the modern specifications she was used to. They all meant something to her, reminded Harper of her childhood, family, and of life. About how her parents always took her to the Statue of Liberty when she was little, how her father explained what it meant to him, and what it should mean to her as well.

    And it did mean a lot to her. She wasn't a conservative by any stretch, she did love her country, and the ideals it should stand for. Ideals it stood up for in Korea, Taiwan, the Baltics, and Guyana, all in her lifetime. Ideals her country failed to uphold in the disasters that were the Afghanistan and Iraq Wars.

    Seeing such a renowned and loved symbol of American freedom and ideals being blown in half by Nazi battleships, one of the last few things in this world that reminded her of her old life, hurt her. It hurt millions of Americans across the country, in all three time displaced sections. A news helicopter from New Hampshire, flying against the 'No Fly' order in place to preserve aviation fuel and aircraft for emergency use only, broadcast a live feed of the carnage in New York City that hundreds of thousands of Americans saw.

    American morale was already low due to so many millions of Americans being ripped from their respective periods in time, and thrown into this world. The fact that they'd likely never see any of their families again had produced an atmosphere of dread and depression. No one knew if something like this would happen again or who it might take if it did.

    Then the attacks on Oregon and New York happened. Thousands of Americans were dead, several major warships had been sunk, and America's largest city was dealt a great deal of damage. And while the perpetrators had been killed or captured, the United States wanted blood. There was just one problem with that.

    Imperial Germany was not Nazi Germany, and the two Scharnhorst Battleships that attacked New York City were not those of the Kaiserliche Marine. The situation with the Japanese submarines was even more complicated. While they did belong to Japan, interrogations of the surviving pilot shot down in Astoria had revealed that the submarine he had launched from, and likely those accompanying his, were from 1942.

    An actual attack from either nation had yet to occur. The closest there was to any real combat was a few Japanese scout planes shot down over the Philippines by American ships in the region. And while more Japanese ships were surrounding the Philippines, recent events across the Pacific had their fleet scattering in multiple directions. However, it looked as if America and Japan were destined for a showdown in the Pacific sooner or later.

    "A war we aren't prepared for," Harper lamented to herself, falling back onto her bed, and staring up at the ceiling. All of these events occurring seemed to make any potential diplomatic solution with the two empires less and less likely, not to mention all the new ships running around, many of which had allegiances unknown. They might be from the modern day, but nothing prevented them from going to Japan or Germany to help uplift their homelands.

    "Or help them fight a war against us," She said.

    That was another major concern the higher ups were discussing. If any of the various Japanese or German ships decided to stand with their respective homelands in a war against the United States, the technological advantage the American Armed Forces held would be nullified. Modern radars and anti-ship missiles would be very good at chewing up and spitting out Second World War era planes and ships. Especially aircraft carriers, of which America had no means to replace.

    She was upset and she was angry. Upset that this had happened to her country and angry at those who blamed the uptimers for failing to stop this. There was no way to predict this strange phenomena, whatever it was. They would just have to weather the storm.

    A knock on the door shook her from her thoughts.

    "Hey, Harper, you in there?" Came the voice of 1st Lieutenant Cynthia Redding, roommate, and one of the few pilots attached to the base's very small air wing, consisting of three C-26 Metroliners that should have already been retired. But the needs of the Air Force kept them flying longer than they were supposed to. Granted, the retirement date was for last year, so it wasn't as bad as it could be. "I forgot my key before I left, can you let me in?"

    With a sigh, Harper got up from her bed, walked through the common area, and opened the door. Standing in the hallway, she was met with a smiling redhead wearing PT clothes, and holding a gym bag in her left hand.

    "Thanks Harper, you saved my ass!" She said, practically skipping through the doorway, before coming to a halt in front of her open room, and turned to Harper. "Have you been crying?" She asked, watching as Harper simply walked past her, and back into her room.

    "You heard about New York, right?" Harper asked as she flopped back down onto her bed. Redding winced slightly as she remembered that Harper was from New York City, and was one of the first to hear about the attack by the two battleships.

    "Yeah, came over the net while we were out on patrol tracking a Japanese submarine up near the Canadian West Coast. Some of the escorting Red Tails were especially pissed about it." Redding said. "I'm sorry, Harper, really. I know all this has been hard on you."

    "Oh you do, huh?" Harper huffed as she finally got to untying her boots, and tossed them over to her wall closet. "Whatever."

    "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Redding raised her hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. "I'm just trying to be nice, what's with the attitude?"

    "Look, I just wanna be left alone right now, Redding. Can I be left alone?" Harper pleaded, taking her OCP top off, and flinging it over her chair.

    "This is about the various downtimers, ain't it?" Redding said, her own Georgian accent coming out in full, prompting a look from Harper that wasn't quite a glare, but wasn't exactly friendly either. The look gave Redding all the answers she needed. "Figured as much. They've given us a fair bit of shit for working with the Red Tails."

    "And I bet they get along real well with you on account of how you sound, don't they?" Harper spat. "While I'm regarded as nothing more than a dressed up nigger by most of these inbred hicks!"

    Redding recoiled at the pain and vehemence in Harper's voice while her face shifted to that of a hateful glare.

    "Hicks who seem to think we're to blame for the attacks in Oregon and New York, who think that we're soft, and that we've got too many women and niggers in our ranks to be of use! Motherfuckers who don't realize that without us, America doesn't even stand a chance against Germany, much less fucking Japan!"

    "I'm not fucking arguing that, Harper! I'm on your side here, so I don't know why I'm getting bitched out here!" Redding snapped back. "You think you're the only one who's been dealing with this shit? Because you sure as fuck aren't!"

    "You're not the one who's been called a 'worthless nigger' to her fucking face!" Harper snarled. "Whatever you've been dealing with, 'flygirl', isn't shit compared to what me and others who look like me have been taking over these last few fucking weeks. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to be left alone!" Harper finished, slamming her door in Redding's face. Locking the deadbolt, she quickly shed the rest of her uniform, turned off the lights, and fell into bed.

    This night would be the first in a very long time where she cried herself to sleep.
    ------------------------
    Next chapter features the 16 Regiment of Foot on the White Cliffs of Dover overlooking the Imperial German Navy storming the Dover Strait!
     
    Chapter 8: Battle of the White Cliffs of Dover
  • New York - germans from 1942 could do that.USA was lucky,that Tirpitz not joined them,or their entire fleet there would sunk.

    Modern 17 ships on Pacyfic - some japaneese would join their country,they were patriots after all.
    And,USA ships from 2023 joined 1907 USA,althought they are progressive,so why progressive japaneese should noy join 1941 Japan,too?
    Japaneese Navy was harsh,but,unlike Army,they were no genociders.

    Even if that do not happen,some ship simply must fall into japaneese hands here.If not,technology from modern day islands.
    People there would rather prefer 1941 Japan to 1907 USA - they were "yellow monkeys" there.

    And,it still do not change fact,that Japan,Germany and USA simply could not invade each other,even if they want to - and,would be unable to do so for at least next 10 years.

    Considering everytching - even if both Japan and Germany get modern technology,they could still not produce anytching better then,let say,1980 level.The same goes for 1907 USA.
    Bullshit. The Imperial Japanese Navy committed a whole slew of atrocities during the Second World War. As for the Tirpitz being there, it wouldn't be a slaughter, but it would be a much tougher fight.
    ---------------------------------

    White Cliffs of Dover
    United Kingdom
    August, 1812
    18 Days Post Event

    ---------------------
    Private James Bennett of the 16th Regiment of Foot looked out at the Strait of Dover in absolute horror and disbelief at the sight that lay before him.

    The Royal Navy had been defeated, totally and utterly. The most powerful navy in the history of man, was now reduced to nothing more than floating, burning debris. Everything from sloops, to frigates, to magnificent ships of the line, all destroyed. Wooden planks and bodies littered the waters of the Dover Strait, while the few warships that still floated on the water burned furiously.

    Private Bennett, like the rest of the regiment currently sitting atop the Cliffs of Dover, saw the entire massacre unfold before their very eyes. The enemy, in enormous ships made of steel, with equally enormous cannon, utterly annihilated the Royal Navy fleet with only a handful of ships. Ships that, after that appeared in this world less than a month ago after that blinding flash in Central Europe, in the Rhine Confederation.

    After that blinding flash, strange ships had visited British ports and sailed the Channel with utter impunity. They claimed to be from a nation called the "German Empire" and were asking what year it was. The entire situation was just absurd! How could you not know what year it was! There was no such thing as a German Empire! But at the same time metal ships the likes of which now insolently sailed through the Strait of Dover should not exist.

    These Germans had claimed they were from the future and sought to dictate terms to the British government, as well as the French, who they claimed to have utterly defeated. The terms and demands the Germans had brought with them were utterly intolerable to the British people, and Prime Minister Spencer Perceval had demanded the Germanic barbarians to leave England.

    So they did. In preparation for war, the Royal Navy and Army had been ordered to mobilize, and ordered into defensive postures across England. Thousands of soldiers took up positions all across Southern England, while the Royal Navy sortied from its ports, and prepared for battle against this new, terrifying enemy. And no matter how prepared they thought they were, nothing could prepare them for what came.

    Bennett did not understand the Lord's will, and probably never would, but he could not grasp just why he had done this. He could not grasp what Britain had done to deserve to have such an enemy set upon them. What had they done to deserve this slaughter? Britain was a force of good in the world, bringing civilization to savages without it, all the while building the greatest empire known to mankind.

    "You think they are going to invade us?" Private David Clark asked, a look of despair and dismay on his face.

    "No other reason they would have such a fleet so close to our shores."

    "Take a look at that one right there!" Corporal McCallum called out, lowering the field telescope he was holding to his right eye. "That's gotta be an invasion fleet! The deck is swarming with men armed with rifles! And they gotta be wearing the strangest uniforms!"

    "Prepare yourselves, men!" Called out Colonel Charles Green from atop his horse. "The Navy may have failed, but we shall not give up! Bring forth the artillery!" He commanded. "Sergeants, prepare the guns, and let those Germanic barbarians have what for!"

    As Privates Clark Bennett and Clark turned, they were met with at least a dozen six pounder field guns, as well as half a dozen nine pounder, being pushed by men, and pulled by horses up to the very edge of the Dover Cliffs. Behind them were about a dozen mortars, with men hurriedly loading in shells as fast as they could.

    "I don't think those will do much to those ships," Bennett said, alarmed at how suicidal the Colonel seemed to be, even after witnessing the destruction of the Navy just minutes ago. "They withstood heavier naval cannon, what good will these do against them?"

    "We shall not give up, soldiers!" Barked a nearby Captain who strode pompously up to them. "Now take up your positions with the rest of the men, and await further orders!" The two privates obeyed, for what else could they do?

    As they lay prone on the grass of the cliffs, they watched as a number of small boats were being lowered into the water by the larger ships. Each boat had dozens of gray-clad soldiers with rifles, while other slightly larger boats sailed in between them, almost as if they were escorts. The sight was mesmerizing for the men of the 16th Foot. The larger ships, and even some of the smaller ones, moved without any sail. How was such a feat possible?

    "Look at all the fookers!" one of the men said in astonishment. "Oi can't say oi ever saw dat many men before!"

    "We'll give them a good beatin and make them regret ever comin to the England!" Sergeant Edwards said with the utmost confidence. "Steel yourselves men, get ready!"

    No sooner had he said that, artillery boomed behind and alongside them, the six and nine pounder guns, and mortars lobbing explosives at the enemy jammed tight in the boats below. Then the volley fire began. Three ranks of men, prone, kneeling, and standing, all opened fire with their muskets at the boats below. Many of them knew the chances of them scoring a hit was low, but they had to make the effort. Splashes of water bracketed the small boats rowing to shore as some of the cannon balls got close to the craft.

    The men on the boats were packed so tightly that they couldn't even shoulder their rifles to fire. They were fish in a barrel begging to be shot. That was, until the larger escort boats opened fire with their demonic sounding guns and cannon atop the cliffs. Guns that seemed to fire hundreds, if not thousands of rounds into the ranks of soldiers atop the cliffs.

    Men fell in droves as rounds tore through the ranks, collapsing at least half of the standing ranks, and many in the other two. Dozens of men lay dead or dying on the cliffs as the escorting boats made the men of the 16th Regiment of Foot pull back from the cliffs edge.

    "Oi, where the fook do you think your goin! Get back to the front and foight!" One of the captains screamed, waving his sword, and drawing his flintlock pistol. "We won't let a bunch of sorry-" His words were cut off as a round clipped the top of his head clean off, and his lifeless body collapsed to the ground.

    "Standfast men, standfast!" Colonel Green demanded! "We must-"

    The cliffs exploded in a shower of dirt and fire as loud booms thundered from the large naval vessels in the Dover Strait. Great clouds of dirt and smoke obscured their vision as men screamed for their mothers, and for their very lives. Bodies were flung into the air, being tossed away from, or even over the cliffs, and into the waters below. Men's bodies were torn apart by the sheer explosive force of the shell bursts, and within seconds, what remained of the 16th Regiment were fleeing.

    At least half the regiment was dead or wounded, but the survivors could not, and would not stay to help them. The guns from the naval ships boomed once more, and again the cliffs were overtaken by smoke and flame, shaking the very earth like they had called down the wrath of God himself. Horses neighed in terror and even the men manning the mortars further back from the cliffs were in retreat. Officers tried to rally the men, but none of them were obeyed the regiment. They did not want to die uselessly.

    "Jesus fookin Christ lads, what in da hell are those guns they have!" Private Clark said he ran with the rest of the men, his musket still tightly gripped in his hand as he sprinted away from the certain death that awaited him if he didn't.

    "Fookin Germans shouldn't have big fooking guns like that!" Bennett huffed out in reply as he too sprinted as hard and as fast as he could away from the carnage. The men of the regiment ran for about half a mile until they came upon a road that was filled with frightened and terrified onlookers who had seen and heard the assault upon the cliffs of Dover.

    "I say, just what is going on over there? I thought you boys were supposed to be defending us, not running like cowards!" Some richly dressed woman waving a fan in front of her face said.

    "Fook you, we just got our arses kicked over on the Cliffs! Those damn Germans have weapons we never e'en seen before!" Bennett exclaimed angrily. "How aboot you go fooking fight them, ya damn cunt!"

    The woman gasped aloud, eyes going wide, and looked as if she were about to faint. How dare they talk to her like that?

    "Why, how dare you!" She said indignantly. "I will have you know that I am-"

    They never learned who she was, as the eerie quiet was soon broken by what sounded like a wail off in the distance. A wailing that grew louder and louder in pitch and volume. Turning to the east, they could make out at least six shapes in the distant sky from the direction of the sound. The objects, whatever they were, were very high in the air, and seemed to be diving down almost like a falcon dives for its prey.

    The objects grew larger and they could make out what seemed to be wings of a sort on the thing, almost like a bird. Only these wings didn't flap. Then they saw winks of light twinkling on the wings, and soon the ground all around them was churning up dirt and shrapnel as rounds fell on them by the hundreds, possibly by the thousands. Men's limbs were blown off, others were torn in half, and everyone still on their feet was scrambling for cover.

    But that noise, that dreadful, hellish noise. It didn't stop. It got louder, and louder, until the strange machines that flew above them got to but a few hundred feet above them, and dropped what seemed to be large eggs atop the men of the 16th Regiment. Only they weren't eggs, they were giant bombs.

    Each one dropped by the flying machines exploded in a shower of dirt and bloody limbs. The already beleaguered 16th Regiment once again found itself under assault by an enemy they couldn't stop. Hell, they couldn't even inconvenience them, even with the defensive advantage, even against slow rowing boats when they had an artillery advantage.

    Half of the remaining men in the regiment were either dead or dying as the flying machines were joined by others, tearing through their ranks with those rapid fire muskets they carried. Some men fell to their knees, curled up in fetal positions, and cried. Others waited for the inevitable to happen. Few stood their ground and fired feebly at their attackers. The rest of them, like Bennett and Clark, ran for their lives.
     
    Chapter 9: Tokyo Blues
  • Tokyo, Empire of Japan
    September 17th, 1941
    17 Days After The Event
    11:00 Local Time

    ------------------------------------
    "Japan now sits at a crossroads in its destiny." Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe said. "There can be no denying the events of the last few weeks. There can be no denying the facts that are right in front of our eyes. The world we once knew is gone and somehow our nation has been sent back in time to the year of 1812."

    No one in the room argued with the Prime Minister. Not after everything that had happened over the last few weeks. Especially not after the events of the previous day. They were no longer in the year 1941. Hundreds of prisoners gathered by the Imperial Japanese Army and Navy had painted a vivid and frightening picture.

    "But we are not the only ones we know share this backward world with." Said General Hajime Sugiyama, Chief of the Army General Staff. "As you are all undoubtedly aware, we share this world with the United States and German Empire. The latter we confirmed due to the presence of a German controlled Tsingtao. A formerly German controlled Tsingtao." He said with pride, as if it was the Army that did all the work in capturing the port from the Germans.

    "A Tsingtao that is now back in the hands of the Japanese Empire," Chief of the Navy General Staff Admiral Osami Nagano added, glaring slightly at General Sugiyama. It seemed he also forgot just how much effort the Navy had put into whittling down the defenses of the German garrison, and the casualties the Army had incurred despite it. "However, it will be months, if not a year or more until we can properly use the port in the capacity we wish. But there are more pressing matters than the Germans."

    "Indeed," Konoe said. "While a great many opportunities are now afforded to our nation, all of the problems Japan faces are still present, and in many ways even worse. Our need for oil, steel, rubber, and so many other resources our empire desperately needs to achieve greatness, is no different than a month ago."

    "Thus our plans for the former Dutch East Indies, British Malaya, Burma, Borneo, and indeed even the Philippines, must be accelerated." Ministry of War Hideki Tojo added. "Japan must not be denied the resources it needs to survive, and without the presence of the European empires to stand in our way, there is nothing and no one to stop us. Even the United States is in no position to oppose us."

    "What do you mean by that, General Tojo? Last I recall, the radio broadcasts seem to indicate the United States is at war with Japan." Cabinet Planning Board President, Admiral Teiichi Suzuki asked.

    "There is a possible answer to that question, President Suzuki." Answered Minister of Foreign Affairs, Admiral Teijirō Toyoda. "As you are all aware, the radio broadcasts from the United States have been rather contradictory in their reports. States like California and Washington say it's the year 1943, while Oregon and a handful of others keep saying it's the year 2024. However, there's very little else in the way of radio from anywhere else in the United States. What little we have picked up from outside those states is rather strange."

    "What do you mean by that, Admiral Toyoda?" Finance Minister Masatsune Ogura said.

    "The broadcasts are very weak, almost like those that were in use 30 years ago, if not older. But that's not all. One of the radio broadcasts we heard from New York claimed it was the year 1907. Many of the other broadcasts we've heard keep going on about how most of the United States is from 1907 and that Theodore Roosevelt is the president again."

    "Theodore Roosevelt," Minister of War Tojo snarled. Hideki Tojo despised Theodore Roosevelt. He had sided with Russia during the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-1905. Japan had been betrayed by Roosevelt, who sided with and defended the Russians, who Japan had bested repeatedly in battle. Japan had been denied a complete victory over Russia, a complete victory that would have seen Japan annex much of the Russian Far East, and the Russian Empire paying indemnities to Japan.

    Instead, Japan had to give up its gains in Northern Sakhalin, it would receive no war reparations from the Russian Empire, and the plans to annex Russian Siberia had been halted. The Treaty of Portsmouth had cheated Japan out of its righteous, complete, and deserved victory, by Theodore Roosevelt. It was frustrating, it was infuriating to Tojo, and to many millions of Japanese who saw this as a betrayal by the United States, and a blatant violation of Japan's sphere of influence.

    Ever since that day, Tojo had a deep hatred of the Americans, and especially hated Theodore Roosevelt. He had wished that the assassin's bullet had struck home and killed the man in 1912. And if what they were hearing from the United States was true, and Theodore Roosevelt was once again President of the United States, he would once more try to cheat Japan. Roosevelt would try to take advantage of and deprive Japan of what it needed.

    'He could try,' Tojo thought. Things would be different this time. Japan would make sure that the United States showed the Empire of Japan the proper respect, that they would pay for past transgressions against Japan. They would pay for their arrogance and impertinence. The United States would be forced to see things Japan's way, and accede to their wishes, and demands. And how Tojo enjoyed the thought of Theodore Roosevelt and the United States being humbled and embarrassed by Japan.

    "What I find most concerning is what we are hearing from the American West Coast about being at war with Japan," Admiral Yamamoto said. The plans for war against the United States, which called for a surprise attack on the US Naval Base at Pearl Harbor, to destroy the American Pacific Fleet, and force the Americans to sue for peace. It was expected that if the United States and Japan could not reach a diplomatic settlement, war would commence no later than early 1942. Yet the states claiming to be at war with Japan were saying it was late 1943! "When I was asked about our chances of victory against the United States, I stated that we shall run wild for the first six months to a year. But by the second or third year, I have no utterly no confidence in victory."

    Sour expressions showed on the faces of many of those in the room. Many of them, especially Hideki Tojo, didn't think much of the Americans. They saw them as soft, decadent, pleasure loving playboys, with no stomach for a serious war. Weak willed cowards who would crumble before the Empire of Japan.

    Few of them knew the industrial capacity of the United States, an industry that, with the press of a button, would be mobilized for war. Shipyards that could pump out ships at a rate far faster than Japan could ever hope to match. One of the few in the room who knew this fact was General Tadamichi Kuribayashi of the Imperial Japanese Army. Like Yamamoto, he too had spent time in America, and had seen the massive factories in Detroit.

    "But that was before we were sent to the past," Hideki Tojo argued. "That was before the United States was split into three separate parts, with the majority of it being a backwater nearly 40 years behind us! Now we don't have to worry about the United States standing in our way, and if Theodore Roosevelt thinks he can treat us the same way he did in 1905, he will have another thing coming!"

    "You seem to be forgetting that the entire Pacific Coast of the United States isn't a backwater, they are fully mobilized for war," Foreign Minister Toyoda said. "You also seem to be forgetting that one of these states supposedly being from the 21st century! And that's not even factoring in the other states!"

    "So what?" Tojo snapped. "We all know what the Americans had on the West Coast, and it is not enough to fight a war against Japan! Alaska is a frigid wasteland and these other states? Florida, Arkansas, West Virginia, backwater states even in the United States! The rest of the country is even more backward! They were barely making automobiles in 1907, much less tanks or planes! Even the ships they can make are laughably outdated compared to even our oldest ships! If they try to fight us, they will lose!" Tojo was insistent on this and some of the Imperial Army officers in the room agreed with him.

    "Perhaps General Tojo is right," Admiral Yamamoto said, surprising many of those present. "But if the Americans cannot replace what they lose, they are unlikely to face us in battle, and we can take what we want in the Pacific, even the Philippines and the other islands the Americans own. But I don't believe they are so disorganized that they are incapable of resistance. If they are at a war footing, an attack on Hawaii or the West Coast would be suicidal."

    "I believe you're all forgetting that our need for oil and steel has not disappeared!" Prime Minister Konoe reminded them all. "We may have a chance to avoid a war with the United States, especially when they realize the weakness of their position."

    "I agree with the Prime Minister," Admiral Suzuki concurred. "They will know they can't win a war against us and will most assuredly accept our terms."

    "And if the Americans don't see reason and choose to go to war with us?" Emperor Hirohito said softly. Those in the room now shifted their gaze to him and it was Tojo who spoke first.

    "Then we will crush them, as we most assuredly would!" Tojo boldly proclaimed.

    "Should the Americans attempt offensive action west of Hawaii, we would crush them." Yamamoto said calmly. "If President Roosevelt orders his fleet to retake the Philippines, they will fare no better than the Russians did in 1905. We would slaughter them."

    "And if the Americans are left without a main battle fleet or carriers to defend themselves, perhaps we could even take the Hawaiian Islands, possibly even Alaska." General Sugiyama suggested. "After all, with our forces from China now scattered all over the Home Islands and Manchuria, we now have the manpower to spare, it would be up to the navy to simply get us there. The Army would handle the rest" Sugiyama said, a light jab at the navy officers in the room. Some of them glared at Sugiyama, but they held their tongues.

    "Seeing as how the Dutch East Indies, Malaya, and the Philippines do not have the defenses or infrastructure they did in our time, the large invasion forces we have and are preparing will be completely unnecessary." Admiral Nagano added. "It is conceivable that the transports that were earmarked for the Southern Operation could be instead shifted towards Hawaii and Alaska, should we meet, and decisively defeat the Americans in battle."

    "That also assumes we can draw the Americans out to meet us," Yamamoto replied, mulling over the radio reports that he had not only read, but personally listened to. "As stated, the states claiming to be from 1943 say they have been at war with us for two years. If the Americans were willing to keep fighting for two years against us, they are likely to fight us for just as long now."

    "That was when they had their whole country as one! That's when they weren't split into many pieces!" Tojo argued. "We are united, we aren't split as the Americans are, and the Americans do not possess the industrial advantage they held in 1941! If they fight us, we will win!" Tojo was persistent. He hated the United States and was one of those pushing for war with the West.

    He also knew the Army had wanted blood. With all their progress in China being undone, morale was at an all time low. The Army wanted blood, and were so eager to reclaim lost glory, that they were seriously proposing an invasion of Hawaii and Alaska. Granted, with the Europeans being a non factor, even a token force could take the lands south of Japan, leaving a great deal of shipping available to them.

    But would it be enough to get an invasion force of sufficient size to Hawaii? In 1941, the Americans had two infantry divisions on the islands. How much would they have after two years of war with Japan?

    Yamamoto met Tojo's stern glare with one of his own.

    "You seem to think that the Americans will be as helpless as the Chinese. The same Chinese who had bogged down so much of your army since 1937." Tojo's glare turned into a nasty scowl, which was joined by many Imperial Army officers present. But Yamamoto was undeterred. "You again seem to forget the Americans from nearly a century in the future. Nearly a century of difference which is equivalent to your soldiers facing those of General Grant's Union Army during the American Civil War! That's what those Americans would be to your soldiers!"

    "Which will mean nothing if the Navy does its job of destroying the American Fleet!" Tojo snarled. "The Army can handle whatever troops the Americans might throw at us, you just need to take care of the American Fleet!"

    "An American Fleet that is on a war footing and expecting an attack," Prime Minister Konoe interrupted. "An American Fleet that now has access to a 21st century American Naval Base at Guantanamo Bay, or that the American city of Portland was hosting an international fleet review, and is hosting a dozen 21st century naval vessels, including one that is Japanese!"

    That got everyone's attention. The knowledge that there was a 21st century Japanese warship in the United States made everyone sit up and take notice. Before this meeting, barely a handful of people knew about it. Now all of the highest ranking officials and military officers in the room knew.

    "Another reason why I don't share the Army's views on how easy any conflict with the Americans would be," Admiral Yamamoto said. "From what we can discern, there are at least half a dozen American warships in and around Portland, with another half dozen foreign warships. On top of the Japanese ship in Portland, one has been identified as Korean, and another as Filipino."

    Many of the men in the room had expressions of disgust on their faces at the mention of a Korean warship. Koreans were barely even humans, not worthy of respect, and only good for performing manual labor, and the women to service the soldiers and sailors of Japan. The idea of a Korean warship from the 21st century being present in the United States disturbed them. The idea of a Filipino warship also disturbed them, but to a lesser degree.

    "As if Koreans could be a real threat to us." General Sugiyama scoffed, before the realization set in. "But a Korean warship implies the existence of an independent Korea." He said, and many others understood as well.

    "An independent Korea implies that the Empire of Japan no longer exists," Prime Minister Konoe said grimly. "Among the reports we have picked up from the 21st century states, is talk about how they will beat us like they did in 1945. There was also talk about something called an 'atomic bomb' in West Virginia, and using them against us."

    Again, what was said had disturbed a number of those in the room. To hear that in only four years from the time they came, the United States would stand victorious over the Empire of Japan, angered and disgusted them. To know that Korea was an independent nation disgusted them. To hear the Americans bragging about all of that over the radio angered them beyond belief. But there was also some confusion amongst them.

    Just what was an atomic bomb? Tojo and the Emperor both had asked what those were supposed to be, but no one in the room had an answer. However, one of the men in the room, Lieutenant General Takeo Yasuda, had scowled slightly when he heard the words, and had shifted his gaze slightly downward.

    Yamamoto wondered just what the man was thinking. Did the general know something the rest of the men here didn't, but couldn't say?

    "All of this information is why I believe we should re-engage in diplomatic talks with the United States," Said Kichisaburō Nomura, the ambassador to the United States who had somehow ended up back in Tokyo after The Event. "The Emperor gave me this task and I do not take it lightly." He looked over to the Emperor, waiting for a reply. Everyone in the room did. For a few moments he said nothing. Then he said,

    "We have been gifted a great opportunity for peace by being put into this world. Many of the obstacles we once faced are gone, and I am sure we can persevere through the ones that remain." He said. "As you all know, I abhor war. It is why I have given this task to ambassador Nomura. I have no doubt of his ability to-"

    He stopped as a muffled sound from outside caught his, and everyone else's attention. The wailing tone they heard almost sounded like an air raid siren. But that was impossible! There were no air raid drills scheduled for today and it was impossible that there could be any planes in the air that weren't Japanese!

    Then the ground lightly shook and the chandelier above them began to rock back and forth slightly. It was at that moment Army and Navy guards burst into the room and they all learned something was terribly wrong.
     
    Chapter 10: Battle of Springhill/The Louisiana Massacre
  • I know I said the next chapter would mostly showcase Roosevelt and the happening in Berlin, but then I realized that yall need some background as to why Theodore Roosevelt was weeping in his private office the following day of this incident. Also in my haste to post that previous threadmark, I left some units out. Mostly Coast Guard units, but some other army ones as well. Don't forget to recheck the list.
    ------------------
    North of Springhill, Louisiana
    Arkansas-Louisiana Border
    21 Days Post Event
    15:30 Local Time


    Officer Jacob Morland looked out at the scene before him in a mixture of disgust and anger. Two days ago, he and three other Arkansas State Troopers, along with three Columbia County Sheriff's Deputies, to guard the border with Arkansas, just north of the town of Springhill Louisiana. Local and State police, along with National Guard units, had been on a guard rotation ever since "The Event" occurred.

    He and his fellow officers had been here for two days and in those two days saw things they never wanted to imagine. Earlier today two young black men had sprinted towards their checkpoint, bloodied and bruised, going on about a lynch mob chasing them out of town. Hearing that not only pissed them all off, it had put them on edge, and expecting trouble. Paramedics had arrived not long after and began looking over the two men. Boys really, they were still teenagers.

    And upon questioning by the paramedics, the reason for their entire ordeal had come out. They had held the door for a white woman and called her beautiful. That was it. That was the crime they had committed and why they had been chased out of town.

    "Jesus fucking Christ, what did we do to deserve being thrown back into this time?" Morland said as he shook his head. "Don't you boys worry, ain't nothing gonna happen to you, we'll make sure of it." Morland said, gesturing to the other Troopers and Deputies at the checkpoint."

    "What if they bring a posse over here?" One of the boys asked. "Ain't but a handful of ya here."

    "Word around town was they's was gonna grab the state militia or guard to come and teach youse uptimers a lesson." The second kid said. "Said they was awfully tired of niggers and women telling them what to do, and that yalls was gonna pay for it."

    "Let them try," Officer Elijah Cunningham chuckled as he tightened his ceramic vest, and reached for the AR-15 in his trunk. "We gonna have a surprise for em if they show up." His drawl was as thick as the Mississippi mud it had come from. One of the most laid back Troopers Morland had ever met, and while many people took him for a fool because of how he spoke, he knew better than that.

    "Man, how the hell can you be so calm right now?" One of the Sheriff's Deputies asked. "We probably got a militia coming down the pike and you're laughing? We got kids who damn near got lynched and you're laughing?"

    "Deputy," Elijah began, his expression still relaxed as it always was. "I was with the Second ID during the big push into Pyongyang in 2016. What I saw as we fought the Norks street by street, and house by house, was worse than this. Yes, this situation," He motioned to the two kids sitting on the rear of the ambulance. "Is fucking horrible. But I've seen half starved and brainwashed North Korean women and children charge a fucking machine gun position rather than surrender. So believe me, I've seen far worse than this!"

    "The whole campaign was brutal as shit, Boyd," One of the other Deputies added. "Was with the Third MarDiv all the way from the 38th to the little strip the Chinese claimed for themselves as a buffer zone. Those fuckers fought hard until the end."

    "Which is exactly why I ain't taking any chances with these fucks here," Elijah said as he put on a ballistic helmet, and tightened the chin strap.

    "Jesus, Cunningham, do you have an armory in your trunk?" Officer Alexis Dawson asked. "The hell you even carry all that stuff for?"

    "Because I'm a paranoid jackass who wants to be prepared, and a bullet is still a bullet, whether it's from a Springfield or an AK." He said dryly, reaching into his trunk once again, and pulling out two MRE's. "You boys over there hungry? Ain't much, but it's a hot meal. Or at least it will be when it's cooked."

    The two teenagers looked at each other in astonishment and Morland and one of the Deputies began laughing.

    "Jesus dude, you gonna feed em that?" The Deputy who was a Marine laughed. "Those poor kids won't shit for a week if you do."

    "They ain't that bad," Elijah said, walking over to the teens in question.

    "Haven't eaten anything all day, sir," The youngest said. "Not since they chased us outta town."

    "Then let's fix that, shall we?" Elijah replied.

    And he did. Over the next fifteen minutes, Elijah walked the boys through how to make the main dish, while they eagerly tore through the rest of the MRE's contents, and did his best to assure them that not only were they safe, but did his best to get them more relaxed around him and his fellow officers. And he had succeeded at that task. That was, until the shouting was heard.

    It was faint at first, but steadily getting louder and louder. Then one of the Deputies called out.

    "We got trouble!"

    To the south and coming on quickly, were at least a few dozen men, many of them armed, and all of them looking angry. Some even appeared to be wearing uniforms of the militia or National Guard.

    "Dawson, where the hell is our backup?" Morland called as he unslung his shotgun, and took up position at one of the concrete barricades.

    "They said they're a few minutes out," Dawson replied as she racked her shotgun, and took up her position behind her car. "National Guard and some of the 442nd should be here to help us out."

    "They better hurry the fuck up!" Elijah said as he sighted down his rifle and took aim at the armed mob coming up the road. "HALT! STOP RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!" He shouted in a commanding voice he seldom used.

    By now every officer was up against some cover, rifles and shotguns aimed down the road at the approaching men. The paramedics meanwhile hurriedly loaded the two teenagers into the back of the ambulance, and made ready to leave.

    "HALT OR WE WILL FIRE ON YOU!" Elijah shouted once more and the large group of men came to a stop a few dozen feet away from where the police blockade was.

    "Dispatch, this is unit 65, we need backup now! We have a few dozen armed men approaching the blockade and they aren't stopping!" Dawson said into the radio of her car, before hanging it back up, and aiming back down her sights.

    From where Morland stood, they looked rather confused at the sight of the blockade and the patrol cars blocking the road. They also didn't like the look of the six rifles and shotguns now pointed in their direction. Morland was the only one who didn't have his sighted downrange.

    "What's your purpose in being here?" Morland said, standing firm at the center of the blockade, and staring intently at the armed mob. For a few seconds there was confused and hushed whispers between the men until one stepped out in front of them all.

    He wore what appeared to be a National Guard uniform, and carried an M1903 Springfield rifle in his hands. He looked Morland up and down with barely contained disgust before saying,

    "Where are those god damn dirty niggers!?" He snarled, scowling at Morland as he said it. "They's gonna hang for what they did!"

    "There aren't any niggers here," Morland replied calmly. "Now unless you wish to be arrested or shot, you'll turn around, and leave!"

    At his proclamation, some of the mess in the mob laughed, but most had an expression that mirrored the one of the man in front of him. The man's face contorted to one of pure rage and hatred. He seemed to be shaking in limp dicked impotent rage, utterly beside himself that a black man dared talk to him like that.

    "You damn uppity nigger, I'll-" Morland never learned what the man was going to do. As he raised his rifle, rounds from Elijah's AR-15 ripped the life out of the man, and all hell broke loose. Both sides exchanged fire and men on both sides dropped to the ground, wounded and dead.

    As Morland dove for cover, one of the deputies was hit in the arm, and fell backward screaming. Another caught a rifle round in his vest, which knocked the wind out of him, but didn't penetrate. At least one round hit Elijah square in the vest, forcing him back down behind the concrete barricade he chose for cover.

    "DAMMIT WE'RE TAKING FIRE!" Dawson screamed into the radio as revolver rounds and buckshot pocked her car all over. "WHERE'S OUR FUCKING BACKUP!"

    "I've had enough of this shit!" Elijah exclaimed as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a few very non-regulation grenades. Two flashbangs and one frag grenade, which he got lord only knew where. He pulled the pin on the first flashbang and tossed it over the barricade to the left. Just as it went off, he threw the second one to his right. The second one went off and finally he pulled the pin to the frag grenade. "WHEN THIS GOES OFF, WE LIGHT THEM THE FUCK UP!" Elijah shouted, launching his hand upward, and sending the grenade flying towards the men.

    Two seconds later it exploded and the screams of men quickly followed.

    "NOW!" Morland screamed as he shot up and began pumping round after round into the large crowd of men. Elijah's AR-15 had gone from single shot to full auto, as did the rifle of one of the remaining deputies. Men in the mob dropped, wounded, and dead, but many of them still continued to fire. It became apparent that there were more than just a few dozen. Many more were behind them, and many were in fact local National Guard. And with them, Morland could see what looked to be a Gatling Gun on a wheeled carriage coming their way.

    "They got a fucking machine gun!" Officer Baxter said just as a bullet clipped off the top of his head, killing him instantly, and sending his body crumpling to the ground. Then the Gatling Gun opened up, forcing them all back behind cover.

    Morland looked over at the body of his fellow State Trooper and felt sick to his stomach. Baxter had been on the force for little over a year and this was the way he had to die. Then it dawned on Morland that if help didn't arrive soon, they would all end up like Baxter did. The paramedics had managed to get out of the area just as the shooting started, but there would be no escape for them.

    But as Morland looked down the road, he could see strange shapes coming into view. Over the racket of the gunfire, which seemed to be slowing down, he could hear the rumbling of an engine. Then, he heard a loud boom, the sound of a train whistle, followed by a loud explosion in front of the barricade where the mob of men were. It was at that point the gunfire ceased, and all that could be heard from panicked and pained screaming, was the roaring racket of Humvees gunning it down the road, followed by an M4 Sherman tank, and a score of police cars and ambulances following closely behind.

    The Humvees raced ahead of the Sherman, as did an old looking Deuce and a Half truck loaded with World War Two era soldiers. The Humvees screeched to a stop just a few feet away from where the officers were hunkered down, and Arkansas National Guardsmen poured out from them as the M249's and Browning .50 caliber machine guns let loose with an unceasing and merciless barrage on what was very clearly a few hundred armed and angry militia and National Guard members.

    The soldiers who dismounted were followed up quickly by soldiers from the Japanese-American soldiers of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team. They took cover where they could, and their M1 Garands and M4 Carbines joined the guns of the Humvees as they poured fire into the mob of men. Dozens of men fell in the mob, as most began a disorganized retreat, while yet others still stubbornly tried to fight. Tires screeched on the road as police cruisers came to a stop and officers in vests and helmets raced forward with rifles and shotguns at the ready.

    Behind them, the cannon of the Sherman barked once more, this time targeting what appeared to be a group of Hotchkiss guns from the Spanish-American War, about a hundred meters behind where the mob once stood. Another loud explosion shook the earth as the guns and their ammunition exploded, killing anyone with a dozen meters. Further behind them in the trees, a few more Gatling Guns opened up, making the infantry and officers dive for cover, and forcing the Sherman to once again fire.

    But it didn't need to fire a fourth time. After it silenced the first Gatling Gun in the woods, the other stopped firing, and indeed all fire from the mob ceased, as the men broke into a panicked and unorganized retreat.

    "THEY GOT JETHRO!"

    "RETREAT! RETREAT BEFORE THEY KILL US ALL!"

    "THE NIGGERS ARE GONNA KILL US ALL!"

    The screams continued until they were no longer within earshot and well out of sight of the soldiers and police officers now swarming all over the border. When the dust finally settled and Morland could finally stand up again, he saw the true extent of the carnage.

    Baxter was dead, and Dawson, along with two of the local deputies, were wounded. Elijah just stood straight behind the barricade, rifle down, and staring intently down the road. It was almost as if he was in a trance. A small handful of the newly arrived soldiers were wounded as well, but nothing major. Most of it was from when the second Gatling had opened up.

    But on the other side of the barricade…it looked no different than Gettysburg or Antietam. Hundreds of men were laying dead or dying. Some tried to crawl or limp away from the carnage around them. They were quickly grabbed and taken into custody.

    "Get your hands off me!" One of the wounded National Guardsmen sobbed as two Arkansas Guardsmen and a member of the 442nd, tore his shirt open, and began applying dressings to his wounds.

    "Hold still God Dammit!" One of the Guardsmen hissed. "I'm trying to save your ass, although I'm not sure why I am." She commented, looking around at the scores of bodies littering the ground. "Jesus Christ."

    "These must have been at least a battalion of those bastards," Elijah finally said, turning his body towards Morland, looking down at Baxter's lifeless body, and then back at him. "Fucking Christ, Sarge, this should never have happened. We should have had the Guard here with us round the clock."

    "Yeah, I agree," Morland said tiredly. "Something tells me that's guaranteed now. They won't have a choice now. Especially if these bastards try something like this again."

    "They will. As I said, there were at least a battalion of the bastards. Granted, if they try the same way twice, it'll be a slaughter." Elijah sighed. "We're lucky yall arrived when youse did. Otherwise we'd all be dead by now. So thanks." He said to the tanker poking out of the hatch of the now idle Sherman. The tanker smiled at him.

    "About the first time someone who sounds like you has ever been pleasant to me and not called me a nigger. You're welcome, officer." Elijah smiled back at him.

    "That goes for all of you," Morland added. "We owe you guys big time."

    "Don't mention it buddy," One of the 442nd Soldiers said as he leaned up against one of the barricades and lit a cigarette.

    "We're just sorry we couldn't get here quicker than we did," One of the Arkansas Guardsmen added. "We had to wait for Big Bertha to show up before we set out. We could have gotten here quicker if we didn't wait, but those machine guns and cannon would have made it bloodier for us if we did."

    "Well you're here now," One of the wounded Deputies muttered as he was loaded onto a stretcher. "That's what matters, boys."

    "Would this poor bastard say the same thing?" One of the Guard medics asked as they placed Officer Baxter's lifeless body into a bodybag, and zipped it shut.

    Overhead, a Cessna 172 of the Arkansas Civil Air Patrol flew overhead and south towards the town of Springhill, Louisiana. It was cheaper and more effective to use it for reconnaissance than a helicopter or fighter, even against opponents like the ones they all just faced.

    "Makes you wonder what's going on around the rest of the country," One of the Guardsmen said.

    "Rumor has it something like this happened in West Virginia. Couple of cops got overrun and the armed mob kept going until a couple of Humvees chewed them to pieces." Another replied. They both shook their heads.

    "When is this shit gonna end?"
     
    Chapter 11: Battle of Ridgeway
  • Ridgeway, Berkeley County, West Virginia
    Virginia-West Virginia Border
    12:30 Local Time


    "This is dispatch to all available units, we have a 10-13 at the Ridgeway Border Crossing! At least one hundred armed individuals crossing the border towards the town of Ridgeway, all units, please respond!"

    "Cars 3, 5, and 7, will be there in 90 seconds!"

    "This is Unit 13, we have multiple contacts all along Duncan Run, requesting backup now!"

    "Backup, we need backup now!"

    "This is Titan 1-1, I've got eyes on a large formation of troops heading north from I-81! If we don't get some reinforcements over there, they'll be in the town before long!"


    Corporal Charlie Pickett of the Virginia National Guard was greatly confused as he looked down at the strange square object that resided in the now dead police officer's hand. A long, somewhat thick cord ran from the object, to the driver's side of the inside of the strange automobile, to some strange object with a bunch of blinking lights.

    Neither he, nor the other Guardsmen with him could make heads or tails of what they were seeing. All they could understand was the panicked cacophony of voices which meant they were successful in what they were being ordered to do.

    "We'll show these nigger loving uptimers whose in charge round here," Private William Sharpe said. "This is a white man's country!"

    "Yer damn right!" Sergeant Cecil Jackson concurred as he bent over and picked up a strange looking rifle from one of the dead officers. "These uptimers ain't so tough. They's mostly just niggers and queers. We'se gonna put em in their place." Off to their right, a couple of Gatling Guns opened against targets they couldn't see.

    "We'se killing dem niggers!" Private Daniel Bragg laughed. "Look at em run!" He said, pointing northward at the outline of people fleeing northward. Scouts had reported the area as being heavily residential, with a large civilian population, and from what they could tell, little in the way of police or militia.

    "This ain't right," Corporal Brian Campbell muttered to himself.

    "Hush, Campbell!" Pickett hissed. "Don't wanna let the Sergeant hear you say that." Campbell said nothing in response. He just shook his head as he continued forward in the column. Off in the distance, they could hear a strange sword swinging sound in the sky. A strange black shape came into being over Duncan's Run and unleashed a red stream of gunfire, which was followed by a hellish roar.

    "Wut in tarnation is that thang?" One Guardsman drawled.

    "Them niggers killing our boys is what!" Captain Braxton Lee snarled, looking down at the dead negro officer who had killed so many of his men. Good white men killed by a nigger and two nigger loving white men. It made even a man like Pickett sick to his stomach. What had gone wrong in America that let this ever become a reality?

    Was this really the future of the United States? Not if they had anything to say about it. They'd already hung a handful of uptimers from nearby trees and would doubtlessly hang many more before the day was done.

    "Sergeant Skinner, tell the Gatlings to take that damn thing down!" Lee ordered, drawing his revolver from its holster and fired uselessly at the flying machine.

    "Yes sir!" Sergeant Skinner replied as he darted off in the direction of the Gatling crews.

    "And just where in the hell is our artillery? We need to flatten this nigger loving town!" He said as men began to shout and point northward, in the direction of a loud racket that was getting louder. A wicked grin plastered itself across Lee's face as he could see at least half a dozen beige-tan shapes rapidly approaching. "Here they come boys, get ready!"

    "Remember what you're fighting for boys!" Sergeant Jackson bellowed. "If we don't beat them back, these niggers will rape yer sisters and wives and mothers back home!"

    "FIRE!" Captain Lee ordered just as winks of light appeared in the distance from the strange uptime vehicles. The men of the column had barely gotten off their first shots when hundreds of rounds tore through their ranks, and scores of men fell in bloody, mangled heaps.

    Lee's horse cried out in pain as rounds tore through the beast, and it collapsed, trapping Lee's right leg underneath its bulk. His screams of pain joined that of the men of the regiment as they fell as wheat before a diabolical mechanical reaper.

    "KEEP FIRING MEN! WE CAN-" Sergeant Jackson tried to order as multiple machine gun rounds tore through his abdomen, and cut his body in half. Loud thumping sounds could be heard from the vehicles, which were soon followed by explosions throughout the ranks of men still standing.

    "WE GOTTA GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!" Corporal Campbell screamed, terrified at the unholy cacophony of noises and orchestra of death and destruction all around him. Before long, the regiment broke all cohesion and began to flee back south towards their encampment at Clear Brook and Cedar Hill.

    But even as they retreated, the firing didn't stop. The uptimer vehicles, which Pickett could now clearly see, resembled nothing so much as giant rectangles with machine guns on top. Other vehicles flanked them, all of which had machine guns, and spat death just as quickly and effectively.

    Then he heard more loud whooshing noises in the sky and to the west, he saw two even stranger looking flying machines coming towards them at a terrifying speed.

    "RETREAT!" Someone called out as the flying machines let loose with projectiles that flew through the air at a terrifying speed and exploded among the packed groups of humanity down below. Pickett could only watch in horror as dozens of men or bits of men flew into the air and landed on the ground in sickening and bloody heaps.

    "YOU DAMN NIGGER LOVERS!" A red faced Private Sharpe screamed as he stood definitely before the oncoming mass of vehicles and worked the bolt of his Springfield. "YER KILLIN GOOD WHITE MEN!" His standing straight up and firing at the uptimers had attracted their attention, and within moments, machine gun bullets ripped the life out of the young man.

    It was at this point that Pickett decided that he wanted to live. He got up and broke into a dead run south, hoping to escape the death being dispensed by the enemy. He could see Corporal Campbell just ahead of him, ducking down and hiding behind the automobile where the dead negro officer lay.

    Just as he reached the rear of the automobile, Pickett felt a series of heavy blows hit him in the back, knocking the air out of him, and losing all control of his body. He collapse faced first on the ground next to the dead negro, unable to move his body. He couldn't even feel anything below his neck and could not even move his head. From where he lay, he could see Corporal Campbell, leaned up against the automobile, and nursing a bloody arm.

    "All units, push forward and run these bastards down!" The small square in the dead negro's hand spoke.

    "Rifle hot!" Another voice said and he heard a familiar whooshing noise overhead, followed by another hellish roar, and hot shell casings falling around and atop him. The screams of men and muffled explosions filled his hearing as he lay paralyzed on the ground. He felt the ground rumble, a rumble which got louder and stronger until the uptimer vehicles were upon them. Once they stopped, scores of strangely dressed soldiers dismounted, and began advancing.

    "PUSH PUSH PUSH!" One soldier, who was in his field of view, yelled out.

    "SHOOTER ON YOUR RIGHT!" Yelled another soldier whom he couldn't see. The first soldier rapidly turned and shot down a Virginia Guardsman who was hiding behind a burnt out automobile, waiting for a chance to kill one of the uptimers. Pickett had prayed the man would be able to take one of these nigger loving uptimers before dying.

    The man would have no such luck however. The uptime soldier turned with frightening speed and fired three times. Two in the chest and the third in the Guardsman's head. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

    "HOSTILE DOWN!" The soldier yelled.

    Pickett wanted to cry. Over 2,000 of Virginia's finest were sent to teach these niggers and nigger loves a lesson, and yet they were cut down and defeated so soundly. They had managed to kill a handful of policemen, who killed a dozen of them before dying. But as far as Pickett could tell, they hadn't killed a single uptime soldier. Before the day was out, how many of them would be dead?

    To the West, he heard booms that sounded like cannon fire. Uptime cannon fire.

    "WE GOT A LIVE ONE!" Another uptime soldier screamed as three of them surrounded Campbell, who simply put his good arm up in a gesture of surrender. Pickett wanted to yell at him to not surrender. He had a pistol in a holster that he could easily reach for. But he didn't. One of the soldiers advanced on him, grabbed the pistol from its holster, and leapt back. Another soldier, this one a negress with a red cross armband, applied a tourniquet to Campbell, all the while the other soldiers kept their rifles pointed at him.

    Then the ground began to shake again, a loud racket even louder than the other vehicles accompanying the rumbling. It was at this point his vision began to blur, and the urge to fall asleep grew stronger and stronger. It was taking every bit of strength he had just to keep his eyes open. Just before his eyes closed however, he bore witness to a large metal monstrosity on treads with a turret that housed a gun that belonged on a naval ship.

    'What had we just done?' Was the last thing that ran through his head before he finally slipped into a permanent sleep.
     
    Chapter 12: Air Battle of Tokyo
  • Something short to tide y'all over while I do work on other sections of the story, including a horror/mystery angle I'm working in Wisconsin. I also wanna see how many of you can identify the units in question here. I wrote all of this within the last few hours because I had a sudden overdose of motivation. That said, I will go ahead and list off the planes in question here to give you guys a hint of who did this.
    P-40 Warhawk
    A-20 Havoc
    Lockheed Hudson
    B-25 Mitchell
    Curtiss Hawk II and III
    P-26 Peashooter
    Fiat CR.32
    Martin B-10
    Douglas O-2
    Northrop Gamma
    Heinkel HE-111
    ----------------------
    Tokyo, Empire of Japan
    September 17th, 1941
    17 Days After The Event
    11:02 Local Time


    As the men inside the Imperial Palace were ushered outside to an assortment of armored cars and trucks, they were met with a sight that disturbed them to the very core of their being. The skies above Tokyo, the skies of the Japanese Empire, and The Emperor's Domain, were filled with planes. The only time in history that the skies of Japan had ever seen foreign war planes was in 1938, when two outdated American bombers flown by the Chinese had dropped millions of leaflets over several different cities. And those bombers didn't dare fly over Tokyo.

    But this wasn't a small two bomber raid that was dropping propaganda leaflets. There were dozens,fighters and bombers both, flying over Tokyo. They watched in horror and fury as planes with the insignia of the Republic of China and the United States Army Air Forces dove and strafed all over the city. Anti aircraft guns blazed away at the invaders, scoring hits, and sending several of the planes tumbling to the ground trailing smoke and flame.

    Others had been shot down by the few Imperial Japanese Air and Naval Air Service fighters that rose to challenge them. Those brave pilots gave a good accounting of themselves, but there were just too many of them. It was also at this point that many of those watching had realized something.

    "Those are not carrier planes," Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto said softly. He was right. None of the fighters in the sky over Tokyo could have been launched from a carrier, to say nothing of the bombers. Well, a few did seem to be carrier planes, but they were ancient biplanes used by the Chinese. The P-26 and P-40 fighters, and Heinkel He 111, Douglas A-20's and Martin B-10 bombers, certainly weren't carrier planes.

    "Where could they have come from?!" Prime Minister Konoe said, astonished and horrified at the sight happening before his very eyes.

    "It seems as though the Navy's promise of keeping the Home Islands safe from enemy attack has been nothing but empty blustering!" General Sugiyama's face contorted into a mask of disgust as he glared over at the Navy men present. Both Admiral Nagano and Yamamoto returned the glare.

    "Perhaps, General Sugiyama, you have forgotten those bombers need landing strips to take off from! And who controls the land around Japan that would allow those bombers and fighters to take off!" Admiral Nagano replied angrily. "I suggest you remember that in a hurry!"

    "Gentlemen, please!" An Army Sergeant broke in between the men. "This is no time for arguing, we must get you all to safety now!"

    "The Sergeant is right, gentlemen!" Emperor Hirohito said, much to the shock of the lower enlisted who were within earshot. None of them dared argue with the Emperor, despite how much they may have despised their counterpart in the opposing branch.

    The men did as suggested, following the soldiers to waiting vehicles. But their initial surprise and shock at seeing the fighters and bombers over the skies of Tokyo had cost them valuable time.

    The sounds of aircraft engines grew louder and louder, and soldiers began to shout and point up towards the sky. Flying low towards them were two warplanes, a P-40 and a Curtiss Hawk II naval biplane. Both opened up on the large convoy parked outside the Imperial Palace, their bullets kicking up dirt and sending men tumbling to the ground in screaming, bloody heaps. Or more often than not, just bloody heaps.

    Machine guns from infantry and armored cars opened up on the incoming planes, throwing up a wall of bullets at the attackers. The Hawk began to smoke, catch fire, and tumble towards the ground in short order. The P-40, with shark teeth painted on the fuselage, ignored the gunfire, and dropped a single 500lb bomb directly in the middle of the convoy, directly atop the armored car meant for the Emperor.

    "YOUR MAJESTY!" The same Army Sergeant from before screamed out as he grabbed his sovereign and threw them both to the ground right as the deafening sound of the explosion temporarily deafened those around.

    "THE EMPEROR!" A soldier called out from somewhere not far. In seconds, dozens of men converged on Hirohito and the Sergeant who saved him.

    "Quick work Sergeant, you-" General Sugiyama began, but stopped as he noticed a jagged piece of metal that had ripped through his back, and had exited out his chest. When he was fully pulled off the Emperor, there was a tear in his suit from the piece of shrapnel, which hadn't gone through the Emperor's flesh, but had soaked him in the Sergeant's blood.

    It was at this point Konoe and Yamamoto realized a few things. At the angle and size of the shell fragment, if that Sergeant hadn't dove and tackled Hirohito, that fragment would have killed him. This blatant act of war by the United States, however they accomplished it, had nearly killed the Emperor of Japan. There would be a reckoning when this attack was finally defeated.

    The Empire of Japan would get its revenge on the United States and would show no mercy. The price they would exact on the United States for this barbarous attack, would make the terms the Germans got after The Great War, seem like a mercy.

    But that was for later. First things first, all those present had to survive this attack.

    "Where are our planes?" Konoe groaned as another plane flew overhead in a strafing one, only this one was Douglas O-2 in Chinese markings. While it only had .30 caliber machine guns, they were still machine guns. They tore through infantry out in the open, but the rounds bounced off the armored cars and newly arrived tanks. "We will be torn apart if they don't get here quickly!"

    And just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, a B-25 Mitchell bomber from the northwest started to bear down on the Palace right as they loaded the Emperor into an armored car, which took off the moment the side door closed. Then from the south, a strange roaring sound got louder and louder, followed by a strange silver shaped aircraft screaming overhead.

    A strange aircraft without a propeller, orange tipped wings, and a Rising Sun on the rear fuselage. It flew far faster and was, at a glance, far more maneuverable than anything Japan had. Its guns spoke and sheared off the wing of the B-25, sending it spiraling into the ground below. Once the bomber was down, it continued towards the rest of the American fighters, as a few formations of Army Nakajima Ki-27's and Ki-43's and Navy A5M's followed closely behind, and began to exact their bloody price on the invaders.

    Unlike the first wave of disparate fighters who were badly outnumbered and quickly shot out of the sky, the Japanese pilots now outnumbered their foes. The ancient biplanes, slow bombers, and P-26's proved no match for the Japanese fighters. The only ones who put up a decent fight were the P-40's, who despite being outnumbered, put up an impressive fight. In fact, the P-40's seemed to be piloted by experienced airmen, and more began to arrive from the north, mixing it up with the Imperial Japanese Army and Navy pilots.

    But another strange, and much louder roar from the south was heard. More strange aircraft, again without a propeller, but of a different design, flew towards the massive dogfight over Tokyo. Men on the ground watched in amazement as the planes seemed to knock any propeller plane out of the sky by flying too close to it. And their guns were just as lethal, if not more so than the others.

    But the strange rockets that sat underneath the wings and somehow followed their targets no matter how they tried to dodge, was most intriguing.

    "How is that possible?" One soldier muttered as he stared wide eyed at what he witnessed those strange fighters do. There were at least half a dozen of them, and they tore a bloody swath through the remaining American and Chinese planes. Before they knew it, the skies over Tokyo were clear of the invaders, and the fighters above either performed CAP over the capital, or flew off in all directions, apparently in response to other attacks in other cities.

    I don't know who those pilots are, but if I ever meet them, I'll buy them as much sake as they can drink. And when they can't drink anymore, I'll keep buying!" Another soldier commented.

    Chants of "Banzai" followed as the new fighters flew back over the Imperial Palace, waggling their wings down below at the men, before flying off in different directions like the others.

    For men like Konoe and Yamamoto, they understood that what they had just witnessed was a game changer. Both of them had already surmised that those planes, whatever they were called, were from the future. They both wondered just how many more might have appeared across Japan. They also wondered what other weapons might also have appeared. Weapons that would help them against their inevitable war with the Americans.

    They just hoped they would have enough to give them a chance.
     
    Chapter 13: Murder in Elkhorn
  • Elkhorn, Wisconsin
    United States of America
    1 Month Post Event
    11:00 Local Time

    -------------------------------
    FBI Special Agent David Martinez, and the dozen local and state police officers who accompanied him to this sleepy Midwestern Town, looked at the scene in front of him in disgust and bewilderment. In front of them was a Chevy Blazer of the Walworth County Sheriff's Department, which would blend in during the nineteen eighties and nineties. But was greatly out of place in 1907 Elkhorn, Wisconsin.

    Or at least would look out of place had things been normal. In the aftermath of the "Second Event" as it were, many thousands of police officers, sheriff's, Swat officers, FBI agents, and even park rangers, and EMS, were scattered all across the country. The vast majority had their cars, trucks, or whatever they would normally have while on duty. In some places, entire department buildings had appeared, replacing what may have been there previously, or taking up empty land that was once there.

    Many appeared in major cities all over the country, while a great many were in isolated and rural areas. This had of course caused problems across the country, especially in more rural areas. But over the last few weeks, things had more or less settled down, and most of the officers had been consolidated in various places across the United States. But in Elkhorn, Wisconsin, the half dozen time-scattered sheriff's had decided to stay within the limits of the town.

    Or rather, the now five remaining sheriff's had decided to stay in the town. For one of those sheriff's was now dead.

    "What in God's Name could've done this?" Martinez muttered as he surveyed the damage to the Chevy Blazer and the badly mutilated and torn apart sheriff.

    "I've seen what bears, boars, panthers, and gators can do to a man," Park Ranger Abeque Winter began. "Hell, I've seen what a pissed off grizzly bear can do to a truck when it gets pissed off. But this?" She said, motioning to and running her hand along the disturbingly large and deep claw marks that ran across the Blazer.

    "Don't belong to any creature that walks on God's Green Earth," Park Ranger Jeffery Davis finished. "Besides, ain't any grizzly bears this side of the Mississippi River, and a black bear couldn't do this."

    "So what do you suppose did this?" Martinez asked, looking at the local Sheriffs who eyed him like the outsider he was.

    "Have you ever heard of the local legend, Agent Martinez?" One of the local Sheriff's by the name of Henderson asked. "Legend of a beast that lives in these woods around Elkhorn."

    "The Beast of Bray Road," Another man, the partner of the slain Sheriff, added. "Back where I came from, townsfolk kept on reporting some large beast that chased cars and running through the corn fields. Us and the State Police were ramping up patrols of the areas the sightings came from, but we always came up with nothing."

    "Until now at any rate," A third deputy by the name of Sanders said, carrying a very non-regulation, and very military issue looking M16 in his hands. When asked about it, he outright admitted to having stolen it when he served in Vietnam, and kept it in his trunk ever since. Under normal circumstances, admitting that to an FBI agent would land you in prison. Now though? Times had changed. "Heard stories from my pa that were passed on from his pa about something lurking in the woods around here. Told us not to wander at night and to stay outta the fields here."

    "Are you all suggesting that a werewolf is responsible for this?" Agent Martinez asked incredulously, which had every deputy, sheriff, and even the nearby EMT's look at him sideways.

    "Agent, have you been paying attention to the world this last month or so?" Ranger Winter's face wore a tired and slightly angered expression on her face as she asked the question. "Because if you had, you'd have rethought your definition of normal and impossible."

    "Especially since barely any of us here are from the same period in time," State Trooper Stephen Polk said. "Or that our country is split into several pieces from across time and most of us don't have a home to go back to."

    "That fucking injun does though, same as the rest of these nigger loving degenerates." A 50's era State Trooper by the name of Parker snarled.

    "Give it a fucking rest, asshole!" Ranger Davis snapped, his hand going to the holster on his belt in automatic reflex. "You sound like a broken fucking record!"

    "I didn't fight the damn Japs from Guadalcanal to Okinawa, to listen to some fucking spic or damn injun!" Parker said angrily.

    "Quit your damn bellyaching, Parker," Deputy Sanders said, glaring at the man. "Most of us don't like the situation, or those involved, but we don't have much of a choice. Now either shut up and deal with it or get the hell out of here."

    "Hell, if you hate the Japanese so much, head to the West Coast and rejoin the Marines." Another Trooper chuckled darkly. "The way things are going, we'll be needing all the men we can get to fight them and the Krauts."

    Parker just growled and stomped off over to his patrol car, leaning against the trunk and letting off a stream of curses as he did so. But just as the rest of the assorted law enforcement officers got ready to continue their conversation, a loud howling noise came from the woods just to the north of the road they were on.

    A howling that sounded as if it came from a wolf, but not quite so. It was too loud and much deeper than any wolf they had ever heard. One that rose and lowered in intensity and pitch, resembling more of a kind of chuffing sound.

    "What in God's name is that?" Polk murmured as he raised his Remington 870 to the north where the howling was coming from.

    "There are no wolves down this far south." Davis said as he drew his Glock, a gesture repeated by every officer present.

    "And gray wolves don't sound anything like that!" Winter said, eyes wide as the howling got louder and changed in rhythm. Changed in a way that sounded almost like a-

    "Is that a fucking laugh?" Agent Martinez said wide eyed astonishment and fear as he looked up north. Every pistol, shotgun, and rifle present sung towards the unholy sound emanating from the woods. Even one of the paramedics was aiming his .38 Special with the rest of them.

    "We're being watched," Winter said as her eyes scanned the woods up north. She had grown up in Northern Minnesota and was taught to respect the wilderness around her, how to live off it, and how to survive in it. To survive in these woods, one needed focus, patience, and a respect for the things that lived in them. For it any one of those were lacking, your chances of survival became that much lower.

    While she didn't believe in all the legends her parents and grandparents had told her, The Event had shaken her perception of the world around her, as it did for many untold millions across the planet. A mass religious awakening was happening around the globe as scientists struggled to explain how and why this had happened, and preachers from all faiths tried their best to explain it.

    But as her eyes fell upon the abomination she saw in the woods, Winter thought that perhaps those legends had a bit of truth to them. Ice ran through her veins as she stared at something that had no business being real and outside the confines of myths and legends.

    The curses that left her mouth as she laid eyes upon the creature were not in English, but in her native tongue. Despite that however, anyone could have understood the meaning.

    "Sweet suffering Jesus," Ranger Davis said, his native southern accent completely out and full of fear as he too saw the creature. While Davis was not as skilled as Winter's, he was by no means unskilled at tracking, living, and surviving in the wilderness. He and Winters were both among the best Park Rangers in this section of the country before and after The Event. It took him only a few seconds longer to see the shape that was out of the ordinary in the woods ahead, the slight coloration that did not match its surroundings, and the glowing eyes that could pierce your soul even in the middle of the day.

    "What in God's name is that thing?" Sanders muttered as he aimed his M16 and switched it to full auto. For a man who survived two tours in Vietnam and multiple run-ins with the Viet Cong, he had to have good situational awareness in these kinds of environments. He wouldn't be alive today if he wasn't.

    "The fuck do yall see?" Polk asked as he swiveled his shotgun in the direction where Winters, Davis, and Sanders were aiming. "I don't see a fuc- oh dear god!" He said, all color draining from his face as he too laid eyes on the creature ahead.

    "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Parker swore as he hurried to get his trunk open, and reach for the M1917 Springfield he kept inside.

    "What in the god damn fuck!?" Agent Martinez cursed in Spanish as the creature stepped forth from the trees, making itself completely visible to the gathered officers and paramedics. Its unholy laughing mocking them as it seemed to stare into the souls of the men and women watching it. After a few moments however, it turned on its heels, and leapt at an ungodly speed back into the woods.

    In its wake, it left a dozen shaken, utterly terrified law enforcement officers and paramedics staring in wide eyed horror at the woods ahead. They were so entranced by what had just occurred that it wasn't until a Jeep with two US Army MP's from Truax Field drove up to where they stood, that the trance was finally broken.

    The MP's were met by men and women who were drained of color and looked like they had just seen the elephant. Both men looked at each other in more than a little horror themselves before one of them said.

    "Just what has you people so worked up? Looks like the blood's been drained from all of you! Just what in the hell happened here?" He asked, looking off into the woods where the officers had all been staring.

    "There something out there? Something that did this?" The second MP asked, looking at the wrecked Blazer and the mutilated corpse that accompanied it, and almost turning pale white himself.

    "Something," Winter's said tonelessly, her face an unreadable mask as she stared intently at the two MP's, who looked confused as she stared at them.

    "Something unholy." Davis added, letting out a ragged breath he didn't know he was holding in.

    "If you boys got a radio on you, put a call over to Truax Field," Martinez added, looking back out into the woods as he did so. "Tell em we're gonna need backup out here."

    "We did, sir!" The first MP's replied. "We been trying to reach you all for over an hour now, but none of you responded over the radio." As the words left his mouth, the faint sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air grew louder. Off in the distance, a police helicopter caught in the Second Event was flying out from Truax Field, on board additional officers and a forensic team to help clear the scene.

    "An hour?" Parker asked as he too left his previous daze. "None of our radios have been squawking this entire time! Hell it's only been-" He paused as he looked down at the watch on his wrist, a look of confusion on his face as he looked at the others. "You all got watches, right? What time is it on yalls?"

    "Mine says…11:45…what the fuck?" Polk said as he tapped his watch a couple of times with his finger, hoping to set it to rights.

    "11:45 AM," Winters said as she looked at her phone screen. There's no way nearly an hour had passed since they had all gotten here. How long had they been staring out at the woods? Why didn't they hear the assortment of radios going off from higher ups trying to contact them?

    "Ain't no way in hell nearly an hour passed by." Davis said as he checked his phone as well. "What in the hell is going on?"

    Off in the distance, dust was being kicked up as three more jeeps packed with soldiers, followed by two police cars with sirens blaring, were closing in on Bray Road from the west. It was at that moment every radio they had came to life, making everyone but the two MP's jump. Again, the two men just looked at each other confused, and back to the officers.

    "What the hell happened here, officers?" The Second MP asked in a pleading tone. "We thought the worst happened and that's why they sent us here."

    "What happened, soldier?" Martinez began, looking absolutely distraught as he stared directly at the man. "We just stared into the abyss. And it stared back at us."
     
    Chapter 14: Tensions Mounting
  • Camp Withycombe
    Clackamas County, Oregon
    17 Days After The Event
    11:00 AM Local Time

    ------------------------------------------------------------
    "If you don't know already, the world we once knew is gone. We're in a completely different one now." Staff Sergeant Derrick Evanson said as he studied the men and women within the room. They were the expat soldiers, embassy workers, and government employees of nations in the 21st century who were now stuck in this time period.

    Japanese and German soldiers who happened to be in Oregon on sightseeing trips or in transit after training up at Yakima Training Center and Camp Rilea. Singaporean and Swiss pilots and aircrew training on the F-16 and F-35. Canadian soldiers and sailors caught up during cross the border visits or training with the US Army and Navy. The rest were an assortment of Korean, British, Australian, and Taiwanese who also got caught in The Event, the vast majority of them in or off the coast of Oregon, with a scant few in Arkansas or West Virginia.

    Some of the men in this room Evanson had fought alongside back in 2016 during the Battle of Pyongyang. More specifically, many of the Japanese, Korean, and Australians in the room. They fought and bled together in that bloody slog all the way to the Yalu River, where they eye fucked the Chinese Army on the other side of the border, daring them to cross it like they did in 1950. Men who he'd do anything for, men who were brothers that no blood could ever match.

    That was eight years ago when Evanson was just a private. Now he was a Staff Sergeant, one who had served in Korea, Ukraine, and Russia, and had the wounds to prove it. He had chosen a stateside assignment as a Drill Sergeant in the new basic training camp set up Camp Rilea, instead of doing more cadre duty in the Republic of China.

    His wife, Captain Aiko Watanabe, was one of the JGSDF officers in the room. One whom he'd met all those years ago when North Korea had finally decided it had enough of peaceful coexistence with its southern neighbor, and went to war. They'd been together for eight years now, through thick and thin, and World War Three. They had a four year old son, Minoru, who was named after Staff Sergeant Minoru Nakamura, one of the JGSDF veterans present in the room, and one of Evanson's best friends.

    These past eight years had been both the best and worst years of their lives. Best because of the friendships and families they had made, worst on account of the near nonstop fighting around the globe. And just as things seemed to be settling down in the world, The Event happened.

    "I'm not going to sugarcoat shit, so here it is. We've been sent back in time, with a number of other states and nations, to the year 1812." There, he said it. Many in the room didn't react to the news, as they had already figured out something was wrong from day one, or had otherwise found out. The rest were mixed. A few raised curious eyebrows, a few chuckled, some went pale, and two even threw up, much to the disgust of those sitting beside them. "Laugh all you want, nothing I'm telling you is bullshit. This is the reality we are now faced with." Evanson said as he pressed a button on the clicker in his hand, and a map of the world came up.

    On it were three nations, the United States of America, the German Empire, and the Japanese Empire. The map indicated the German and Japanese Empires were dated in September 1914 and 1941 respectively, to include occupied Belgium, occupied Northern France, French Indochina, Hainan Island, and Manchuria. The occupied regions of China that Japan historically held however, were not present. And the islands gifted to Japan in the aftermath of World War One were still in German hands.

    None of that was particularly surprising, but a few in the room realized that without Japan bogged down extensively in China, meant they could focus more resources elsewhere. But what disturbed the Korean, Chinese, and Filipinos in the room the most was that one of the most brutal empires in human history, an empire who subjugated and subjected their people to unspeakable horrors, was now back.

    For the Europeans, the feeling was less so. The German Empire was no more barbaric than the British, French, or Russian Empires. The German Empire was a far cry from Hitler's Third Reich. But most of the Europeans had no nation to go home to. The Germans, British, and French did, but it wasn't the homelands they were familiar with.

    But for the Americans, and a great number of foreigners, the map of the United States was confusing and a little disturbing. There were a total of three colors representing America. The states of Vermont, New Hampshire, West Virginia, Arkansas, Oregon, as well as Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands, were in dark blue, with a date that read June 2024.

    Next were the states of Florida, California, Washington, Alaska, Hawaii, and the Panama Canal Zone in navy blue, with a date that read November 1943. And finally, the rest of the United States, to include Cuba and the Philippines, were marked with the date December 1907. In the Pacific, islands like Midway, Guam, and Wake were also highlighted and dated.

    Most of the Americans in the room looked in shock and horror at the map before them. Unlike Germany and Japan who were whole nations, undivided, the United States was split into three parts from three different eras in time. But that itself wasn't the most terrifying prospect for most in the room. The fact that one portion of the country was 81 years behind the 21st century states, while the rest was nearly 120 years behind, was terrifying.

    Oregon was a very liberal state even by the standards of the 21st century United States. In a country where equal rights did not exist. A country where Jim Crow and Separate But Equal was the law of the land. Where interracial marriage was illegal, women and minorities couldn't vote, and even the armed forces was horribly segregated. It was a nightmare scenario for the vast majority of Americans, not just in Oregon, but in all the states and territories from 2024.

    "We're so fucked!" One woman in the room began to sob, her sentiment echoed by many in the room.

    "So if I step outside the confines of this state, me and my family will be lynched," Corporal Brian Collins said. "Fucking wonderful!"

    "Collins, a whole lot of us are in that very same predicament right now," Evanson growled. "You think I'm any happier than you are about this shit? You see what year the rest of the West Coast is in? You know who my wife is? You know where half the soldiers in this room come from?" He said in reference to the numerous Japanese troops in the room, wife, and one of his best friends included.

    "Nah, he's right!" Private First Class Tanisha Williams argued. "The south is already a shithole back in our time, to say nothing of what it looks like now! We-"

    "Oh fuck you, bitch!" PFC Eli Roberts snapped, his native Mississippi accent slipping out with his anger and frustration. "Despite what you and your kind think, you ain't gonna get lynched nowhere in America in 2024, so don't you dare try and fucking compare the two right now!"

    "The fuck you mean 'your kind', white boy? I-" She shot back angrily, only to be cut off by Evanson slamming his right hand hard down on the wooden table next to him, breaking the table in half as he did so, and quickly quieting the whole room.

    "BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!" He bellowed out in the same voice he was using to train new soldiers at Camp Rilea, making both soldiers practically freeze and fix their now terrified gazes on him. Evanson glared daggers at the two PFC's, the only sound audible in the room being a low mechanical whirring sound coming from his right arm. After a few seconds, he spoke again, this time in a much lower tone of voice. "So help me God if you two fuck ups don't sit down and shut up, I'll fucking smoke both of you like a goddamn crack pipe, and have your worthless asses busted down to buck private! You fucking got that!"

    Both privates muttered their acknowledgements and said nothing further. Evanson glared at them for a few moments, before finally returning to the topic at hand.

    "The point is folks, the world we knew ain't here anymore. The world is a damn mess and it's about to get even worse. And if we fight each other over stupid shit, it's only going to get worse."

    "With all due respect, Staff Sergeant, while I don't agree with their exact wording, they aren't wrong," 2nd Lieutenant Henry Clayborne said. "Ignoring that most Americans outside of this state view me and many in this room as just another nigger, I don't think any of you are paying attention to the red and gray on the fucking map." He said in a slightly exasperated tone.

    "About time one of you Americans realized that," A Republic of Korea sailor said while giving some serious side eye towards the JSDF personnel in the room. "At least you Americans have a country to call home, many of us here do not anymore."

    There was a chorus of agreement from the assorted Korean, FIlipino, Singaporean, Taiwanese, and even Australian personnel in the room. There was also plenty of resentment aimed at the Japanese, but not entirely. The Filipinos technically had a country to go home to, just one that was under illegal occupation by the United States. That alone had caused a great deal of issues between Filipino servicemen and Americans.

    But that wasn't the only issue. The date on the map for the rest of the world was 1812. Not long after the start of the War of 1812, where the United States had gotten fed up with the British Empire impressing American sailors and had declared war. It was also a war where the United States had invaded Canada with intent to conquer it. The time stranded Canadians made up the second largest contingent of foreign troops in Oregon after the Japanese.

    But there was a mixture of World War Two and modern era Canadian troops between Oregon and Alaska, thousands of them total. Meanwhile further east, there was an American Army under General William Hull invading Upper Canada, or were they already retreating?

    Evanson couldn't remember exactly, but he'd eventually find out. But all that was small potatoes when they learned that Theodore Roosevelt was now President of the United States. The man who built America up to be a great power, and whose work would be continued under his cousin, Franklin Roosevelt, which made America into a superpower. Theodore Roosevelt held a certain degree of scorn for France for its invasion of Mexico during the American Civil War, and the burning of Washington D.C. was one of America's biggest humiliations in its history.

    "And some of us have a country currently being invaded by the United States." One of the Canadians said dryly.

    "An America led by that cowboy maniac, Teddy Roosevelt. Just what this world needs!" A Canadian Lieutenant of obvious Native American extraction snarked, her face going dark as she continued. "My people already got shafted after that war, guess it's bound to happen again."

    An America under the guidance of Teddy Roosevelt would ensure both of those things would never happen. It also meant that Roosevelt might very well do what James Madison failed and conquer Canada from Britain, and drive every European flag from the America's by bayonet point, something he also dreamed of doing. Even if it meant the Native Americans would suffer on account of it.

    "Oh give it a rest already, Sacagawea!" Another Canadian soldier said, glaring at the Lieutenant, who fixed him with a sharp gaze and said.

    "What the fuck did you just call me, Corporal Leblanc!" She hissed, putting emphasis on his rank, in response to his blatant disrespect to her heritage and her superior rank.

    "All you damn redskins ever do is complain and blame everything on the white man and its getting fucking tiring!" Corporal Leblanc snapped, making to get up from his seat until an American soldier sitting next to him grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.

    "Sit the hell down, asshole!" The soldier snarled as he glared down at the Canadian.

    "What about the rest of us?" A voice in heavily accented English asked from the group of German embassy staff and soldiers asked. "Those of us who have a country to go home to and wish to go back to.

    "Yes, what about the rest of us, Evanson?" Staff Sergeant Minoru Nakamura asked. "We also have a home to go back to and most of us do not wish to stay here. If we are not at war, why are we still being held here?"

    "Because none of you will be allowed to leave until it's determined you won't be a threat to the United States." Evanson said bluntly, earning a mixture of confused and angry glances from many in the room, especially from the Japanese and Germans. "If you read the map, you'll realize the Japan and Germany you wish to return to are not allies of the United States. Both are expansionist empires and neither like the United States. Hell, Japan outright hated America long before World War Two."

    "What are you saying, Derrick?" Captain Watanabe asked, dreading the answer to come.

    "I fought alongside many of you in Korea. Many of you here are my friends and I know how you think. I know most of you love your countries greatly and that love and patriotism makes many of you dangerous to the United States. And unfortunately that includes my Canadian friends here." Evanson explained, noticing how a number of those in the room began to tense up, and how the armed MP's in the room shifted their hands closer to their sidearms. "You all have information of history and tactics that, if given to the German, Japanese, or British Empire's, could prove to be a danger to the United States. And considering the division our nation is under, that is something we simply cannot afford."

    "So you are holding us hostage then?" The commander of the JGSDF, a Colonel Kengun, said in a low, dangerous voice. "Holding your own allies hostage over irrational and baseless fears that we might fight against you?"

    "This is an outrage!" A German Major with the last name of Koch burst out, standing up and glaring at Evanson. "We are not at war with you, you can't just hold us here as prisoners!"

    "We can and we will." Evanson said bluntly, further angering the two foreign officers whose glares of hatred only intensified. "Even one of you would present too great a threat with the knowledge of history you all have, to say nothing of the thousands of you currently stranded here. You could negate the advantages we hold, the loss of which would be disastrous if we find ourselves in a war with either nation, much less both."

    "Derrick, you can't be suggesting that we'll automatically turn into banzai charging fanatics when we return home to Japan." Nakamura said bitterly. "We want to return to our homeland, a place we are familiar with, so we can make it a better place."

    "A single one of you telling the Japanese government that we have broken all of their codes or one of you taking a modern physics textbook back to Tokyo or Berlin would be a major problem for us." 2nd Lieutenant Clayborne replied. "The thought of the Japanese Empire having nuclear weapons is a disturbing one to anyone here, not Japanese."

    "You cannot claim monopoly on technology, American!" Colonel Kengun snarled. "You will not keep knowledge of the future from the world forever!"

    "The German Empire is not the Third Reich and the Kaiser is not Hitler!" Major Koch practically shouted. "Unlike Japan, the German Empire had no designs on the United States or its sphere of influence!"

    "Oh, bullshit, you lying Kraut bastard!" Another American, this time a sailor, shot back. "The General Staff literally made plans to invade New England and to conquer New York City after the Spanish-American War in order to force us to give up everything we got from Spain."

    "And The Mad Kaiser would love nothing more than to have Puerto Rico, Cuba, and Hawaii all to himself. Hell, the Emperor would love to have Hawaii too." Another sailor said, earning hate filled stares from some of the JSDF in the room.

    Stares that turned into confused frowns as the sound of air raid sirens began to punctuate through the conference room at Camp Withycombe, and everyone, American and not, looked at each other in confusion.

    "The fuck is going on?" Evanson cursed as he heard the sounds of running footsteps outside and the sounds of soldiers screaming and cursing. Then the sole radio in the room blared to life with news that made the blood of everyone in the room turn to ice in their veins.

    "All stations this net, all stations this net! This is not a drill, we are under attack! Japanese Naval and Air Forces off the coast of Oregon and Washington! Air Force and Navy currently engaged! All nonessential personnel are to report to designated safe zones immediately!"

    In an instant, the anger and frustration on the faces of the Japanese in the room vanished. Many of them looked at the radio in utter disbelief, while Colonel Kengun practically deflated. Staff Sergeant Nakamura clenched his fists in anger, while his wife, Captain Watanabe, looked as if she wanted to lash out and smash the infernal device. A few dreadful sentences had completely changed the atmosphere of the room, an atmosphere of shock and horror. An atmosphere that grew worse as the radio spoke once more.

    "All stations this net, reports from New York City report German battleships bombarding the city, and engaging naval forces off Long Island! Two US Navy battleships sunk and two more heavily damaged, with heavy fires reported throughout Manhattan Island! All personnel are to report immediately to their designated units! I say again, we are under attack!"

    The radio finished as the sounds of jets roaring overhead made it impossible for anyone to speak or hear. Moments later, a dozen soldiers rushed into the room, all armed and armored, and began to start ushering people out to safety, or to their units.

    "You are ordered to report to the armory and get your gear, Staff Sergeant!" Platoon Sergeant Deshaun Thomas said, a grim expression on his face. "It's worse than 9/11 from the sounds of it and it's worse over in New York."

    "Understood, Platoon Sergeant!" Evanson nodded, grabbing the radio which belonged to him, clipping it to his belt, and making his way out of the conference room, and to the armory. As he looked over his shoulder one last time, both the Japanese and German personnel in the room looked as if they thought the world was coming to an end around them.

    Perhaps it was.
     
    Chapter 15: The Future of Germany is in Our Hands!
  • Great General Staff Headquarters
    Königsplatz, Berlin, German Empire
    17 Days Post Event
    11:30 PM Local Time


    "Gentlemen, I do apologize for summoning you all at this ungodly hour, but I'm afraid the circumstances demand our immediate attention," Kaiser Wilhelm II greeted the men gathered in the room. Normally he would convene this meeting in a more convivial manner, over brandy and cigars, but what had occurred could not wait until the morning to be addressed. Thus the Imperial German War Council had been convened at this late hour to discuss matters of utmost urgency. Those that could be summoned at any rate.

    "As I'm sure you are all aware, just hours ago there was a bright flash of light along the Baltic Coast, North Sea, as well as several cities and towns throughout Germany, after which we lost contact with the aforementioned regions." Army Chief of Staff Helmuth Von Moltke began. "Shortly afterwards, we received reports from civilians and army units that many of the towns and cities that once existed, looked completely different."

    "What do you mean 'looked different', Von Moltke?" General Erich von Falkenhayn asked impatiently. "We were not summoned to take guesses here."

    "No, you were not," Von Moltke said, straight to the point. "The reports tell of larger and brighter buildings, far more people than should be possible, and strange looking automobiles and airplanes. Even the people in the towns and cities in question were dressed foreign."

    "Almost as if from the future?" Crown Prince Wilhelm said. "Just as all those on our border resemble those of the previous century, and how Generals Hindenburg and Ludendorff have reportedly made contact with Napoleon's Grand Armee in what was once Poland?"

    "Quite so, your highness." Von Moltke replied. "Gentlemen, as you are all doubtlessly aware, rumors are swirling about the state of affairs in America, with various wireless messages saying that the United States is split between several separate periods of time, and is facing severe internal strife."

    "Are you saying the same calamity that has befallen the Americans has also befallen us as well?" Kaiser Wilhelm II asked. The Crown Prince nodded and said.

    "The Frisian Islands, a number of islands on the Baltic Sea, as well as the cities of Schweinfurt, Bremen, Lippe, Troisdorf, Bamberg, Konstanz, and a handful of villages in the Rhine, appear to have been replaced by their equivalents from the future." Now the Crown Prince looked over at an Army Lieutenant standing nervously off to the side, and nodded at him. "Lieutenant Helldorf, tell them what you encountered."

    "Yes, Crown Prince," Von Helldorff said. "We also made contact with a number of policemen and soldiers within those lands, half of which are uniformed and equipped differently than the other half are. Some claim it is 1939, some 2001, and others 2024." If any of the men gathered in the room were in danger of falling asleep or were bored, what Lieutenant Helldorf just told them shook them from those dangers. "Within the regions claiming the latter, not all of the soldiers we encountered were Germans. There was a small number of Americans, British, and Belgians present among the German soldiers we met.

    "Americans?" General Alexander Von Kluck snorted. "And just what are American soldiers doing in Germany? What possible use would Germany ever have for American soldiers?"

    "We asked this very same question and were given many different answers." Helldorf replied, flushing slightly as he recalled that exchange and just what the Americans and his fellow Germans had told him.

    "Sir, to summarize it as best as I can, in the future they come from, Germany hasn't been an empire for over a century. In fact, it's a future where not even Britain is the strongest nation in the world. That title belongs to the United States of America. The war we were ready to fight against the British and French resulted in our defeat because of American intervention, as did the following war twenty years later. As a result, the United States maintains troops all over the world, and especially so in Germany."

    There was silence in the room for a few seconds, as most of those gathered in the room looked at Von Helldorff as if he started speaking in tongues.

    Then General Falkenhayn let out a raucous laughter, followed by the rest of those assembled in the room, which also included Bernhard von Bülow, who had come out of retirement at the onset of the war in an attempt to bring Italy in on the side of Germany. Only Von Moltke, and the Crown Prince kept their composure, even as Von Tirpitz and the Kaiser laughed themselves hoarse with the rest of the men in the room.

    "You must be joking, Lieutenant Helldorff!" Bülow chortled. "The Americans claim they have the most powerful military in the world!?"

    "The American Army is nothing more than an armed mob," General Erich von Falkenhayn sneered. "Their best accomplishment is beating the corrupt, lazy, and incompetent Spaniards, which is hardly worthy of any praise."

    "A rabble with rifles!" The Kaiser laughed. "This must be some kind of a joke! Lieutenant Helldorf, you-"

    "He is not joking, father!" Crown Prince Wilhelm broke in, something that no one in the room would have dared otherwise, and something only he could get away with. "On my way to Berlin from Hamburg, I visited the airfield in the city where one of those strange flashes occurred. The once empty airfield is now full of soldiers, strange armored cars, and airplanes more advanced than anything we had known before. I was talking with some of those soldiers, who called themselves the 'Condor Legion' and they, at least in part, confirmed what Lieutenant Helldorf has said. Go on, Lieutenant, they will not interrupt you again!"

    The Crown Prince said, the look he gave the rest of the room sans his father telling them all they had better not. The Crown Prince had enormous respect for the men in the room and usually deferred to them on matters such as these. But right now was not a time for jokes. The future of the Fatherland was at stake here.

    "The inhabitants of the cities claiming to be from the 21st century are the ones who are adamant about the status of the United States, although those from 1939 seem to not agree with that statement, but do resent the Americans a great deal for joining the war against us. But…what we've gleaned from them all about Germany's future history is…very disturbing." The Lieutenant said, his face turning sour as he recalled what he had been told by those from Bremen and the Frisian Islands.

    "A very disturbing future," The Crown Prince repeated. "A future where The Reich has gone down a dark, distressing path after 1918."

    From there on, Lieutenant Helldorf went on for some time. From how the War of 1914 dragged on until 1918, with millions on both falling to the murderous effectiveness of modern arms. How a combination of being starved by the British Naval Blockade, the exhaustion of the German Army, and the arrival of millions of American troops, had brought Germany to her knees. How the crippling reparations and terms laid upon Germany had nearly crippled her.

    How the global economic crisis of 1929 had only made things worse and led to the rise of a political party, and a dictator that was lauded in the cities from 1939, and utterly despised in the 21st century cities and towns. Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party.

    Helldorf went on to explain how, at least initially, they dragged Germany up from the mud and back on her feet, and made Germans proud to be Germans again. But when he began to explain Nazi Policies and the utterly appalling actions undertaken by them, and how this Hitler had not only ordered the death of millions of loyal German citizens for no other reason for being Jewish, made those in the room pale.

    It got even worse when pictures were provided of the atrocities, which had disgusted them beyond measure. Even the Kaiser himself looked at the photos, which were remarkably disturbing in its clarity and detail. His good hand crumpled up one of the photos which showed bodies piled into rail cars, tossing in the direction of waste receptacles.

    None of them had much sympathy for Jews. But not even Jews deserved what they had gone through in those pictures. But their feelings of anger and disgust only got worse when Helldorf explained how Hitler led Germany to repeating the same mistakes of 1914, fighting a war on more fronts than it could manage, and being slowly beaten back. When they saw the photos of all of Germany's great cities lying in ruin, and the flag of Russia, which was called the Soviet Union, flying atop the Reichstag, the room broke into a flurry of curses and blasphemes.

    Von Moltke and Crown Prince Wilhelm had already seen them and remained quiet, although quite angered. When the room had finally calmed down, Helldorf continued, finishing his briefing as quickly as he could, giving only a basic explanation of what Germany had gone through up until the 21st century, where Germany was now overrun by hordes of raping Islamic savages, and how her neglected military was only now beginning to recover, and make itself a force worthy of name once more.

    When he finally finished, no one said anything for close to 5 whole minutes. When the silence was finally broken, it was by General Falkenhayn, who said,

    "Dear God in Heaven, what have we done to deserve such a fate!?" He lamented.

    "This Hitler…" The Kaiser hissed through clenched teeth. "Tell me he is not among those from the future who have been placed here by the Lord Almighty. Because if he is, I will personally hang him!"

    "From what we can tell, sire, he is not. However, a great deal of these 'Nazis' now reside in Germany, especially among the disparate military units all over Germany, like those in Hamburg." Helldorf replied.

    "It would be a wise decision to see just where their loyalties truly lay," General Von Moltke began. "To the Kaiser and Imperial Germany, or to this 'Nazi Party' and their maniac of a leader who brought Germany to utter defeat and destruction. Most seem to be reasonable Germans, but others…" He trailed off, letting the Crown Prince continue.

    "A disturbing number of them are fanatics that would be very dangerous to Germany, especially if any of them can climb their way to power. Something I might add, we must never allow."

    "All of this…future knowledge we've been given, if it is indeed true, we must never allow it to happen!" The Kaiser said, anger still burning in his eyes. "Our beloved Reich, utterly destroyed by the ego of a deranged maniac, and ravaged by the Muslim savages in the 21st century. This cannot be allowed to happen!"

    "It will not happen, sire." Von Moltke replied. "While we no longer have major threats along our border, it seems as though we may have internal threats within the borders of Germany which need to be dealt with. I propose we pull back most of our forces from the Western Front, and utilize them to bring these 'future cities' and towns back into the fold of The Reich. And to put down any potential chaos or disobedience from these 'Nazi' cretins."

    "And should there be any of these roving bands of rapists within the confines of Germany, they are to be shot without hesitation!" General Kluck added. "We will not tolerate such behavior from our own citizens, much less Islamic barbarians from Arabia!"

    "That much we can agree on, General!" Crown Prince Friedrich said. "While General's Hindenburg and Ludendorff mop up the Russians in Prussia, and General Von Bülow secures Belgium, we must use what is remaining of our army to put our own house in order. It is the only way to ensure that the same chaos and disorder ravaging the United States, does not fall upon us as well!"

    "I shall begin drafting orders at once." General Von Moltke began. "With God on our side and a little luck, little blood shall be spilled as we-" A bright flash of light shone in through the windows of the room they were in, forcing the men present to shut their eyes, and avert their gaze from the window. The flash of light, lasting only a few seconds, vanished just as suddenly as it had arrived. When they all recovered, armed men rushed to the windows and began peering out.

    Shouts rose from outside as the companies of regular soldiers guarding the building raced about to find out what was happening. The flash had come from a few miles to the south, although none of them could figure out exactly where. The room was abuzz with speculation over what just happened, although Von Moltke and the Crown Prince had a pretty good idea, and dreaded just what had shown up this time. Finally, a Major, followed by a Captain, and two dozen soldiers, entered the room. Both the Major and Captain had telegrams in their hands and worried expressions on their faces.

    "What in the devil just happened!?" The Kaiser exclaimed as a Captain and a squad of infantry hurried into the room.

    "Sire, something has happened in Tempelhof Field! Reports are talking about some massive airfield in its place, with strange airplanes and soldiers within it! The same is reported over at Johannisthal Airfield!" The Major reported and Von Moltke let out a tired sigh, followed by a stream of curses. Friedrich just closed his eyes in frustration as the Major rattled off major and minor details, including a report from Bita Paka, where the local commander was asking for permission to surrender to the Japanese invasion force that had set down in the colony.

    The commander, Captain Hans Wuchert also reported the grizzly warning that the Japanese commander had given him before leaving. A bedraggled, ravaged German woman in torn clothes carrying a sack over her shoulders. A sack filled with the severed heads of German men they had caught.

    That news had utterly infuriated the Kaiser and he spat,

    "Yellow savages! Absolute savages! And there is nothing we can do!?"

    "I am afraid not, Sire." Admiral Von Tirpitz answered glumly. "Even against the Japan of our time, going halfway around the world and into the backyard of the Japanese would have been an extremely dangerous proposition without the British or French hounding us. Here, the reports claim the Japan we face is from 1941, and equipped with weapons we could not hope to match."

    "Not yet at any rate," General Falkenhayn said confidently. "And if these future Germans bring other kinds of knowledge with them, we may have weapons like that in short order. Or perhaps ones even better."

    "Ships take years to build, General." Crown Prince Friedrich said tiredly. "And even with a better fleet, there are no coaling stations worth a damn in the year 1812, and I highly doubt the Americans would let us base out of their Western Coast."

    "That's another thing, Sire!" The Captain said as the Major stepped back from his report. "Telegrams from Wilhelmshaven and Heligoland report at least a dozen ships in and around the harbor and archipelago. Battleships, cruisers, destroyers, gunboats, and even a strange flat topped ship with strange looking airplanes all over the deck!"

    "Ships you say?" Von Tirpitz asked, intrigued at the prospect of just what was now sitting in German ports. He also thought about how he could use those new ships, as did the Kaiser, who had already ordered a flotilla of destroyers and transports to England to establish a beachhead for future operations against the British Isles.

    "Yes sir! And more reported out at sea, all of which claim to be German in one way or another. Marines too! A whole battalion of Marines claiming to be from the year 2024!" The Captain replied eagerly. "They even sent one of their strange flying machines from one of their ships and should be here soon!"

    As he said this, a loud WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP sound came from outside, growing louder and louder until it got almost unbearable. In front of General Staff Headquarters, adjacent to the water fountain, a strange shaped airplane with propellers on top and sideways in the rear, landed in the grass, and was immediately surrounded by German soldiers, who were in turn met by armed men who clambered out of the strange contraption, and rapid fire shouting in German.

    Eventually though, the soldiers who came out of the contraption lowered their weapons, seeing as they were surrounded and badly outnumbered. That was until more loud WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP sounds filled the air, and two more of the airplanes had arrived and were landing as well. Once they landed, even more soldiers came out, while a third machine hovered in the air, and turned on an obscenely bright spotlight upon the garden, bathing the whole area in bright light. In the spotlight, they could make out a mounted machine gun inside one of the landed airplanes, which was pointed at the soldiers on the ground.

    The entire standoff was a recipe for disaster. A disaster that could kill dozens, if not more, and jeopardize the future of Germany. Without waiting to be told, Crown Prince Friedrich grabbed Lieutenant Helldorf, and the two quickly ran outside, them being the only hope to diffuse the situation before it turned lethal. They just hoped they could get outside quickly enough for their effort to matter.
     
    Chapter 16: The Portland Massacre
  • North of Portland, Oregon
    Hayden Island
    Washington-Oregon Border
    21 Days Post Event
    16:45 Local


    Civil unrest and rioting wasn’t something new in the United States. Even violent unrest was well known. Ranging from Bleeding Kansas, to the Civil Rights Era, to the more modern protests by far left and far right groups who had deluded themselves into believing the United States was turning into either a fascist or communist state. The goals and ideals of both groups were equally inane, with many genuinely believing what their leaders. But there was a significant amount that were funded by overseas enemies, nations like China, or the former nations of Iran, North Korea, and Russia. Enemies who sought to weaken America from within when direct action was either impossible, or simply wouldn’t work.

    And despite Oregon and a handful of other states to longer belonging to the world they originally came from, some of those groups still remained. While the assorted far right groups tended to be further east, Oregon being on the West Coast, and arguably the most liberal state in the Union, had many of the far left examples. Examples that had now gathered in their thousands at the border between both Washington and Oregon, and were out for blood.

    Out for blood over two separate, horrible incidents that had occurred on the border with California, and one that took place in Washington and Oregon.

    The first, which took place along Pelican State Beach, involved an interracial couple that was enjoying an early morning on the beach. An early morning that was ruined by the sudden appearance of a group of eight men, all of which wore the robes of the Ku Klux Klan, who were disgusted by the sight before them. Lynching ropes, and revolvers, in hand, the men made their intentions clear from the moment they approached the couple. However, there were a couple things the men hadn’t counted on.

    The men had no idea what a cell phone was and that all calls these days were only for emergencies, and routed to police and guard units nearest to the caller. The girl's frantic call, punctuated by the sound of screaming and gunshots in the background, had dispatch relaying the position to Oregon State Police and a local National Guard squad, both of which had heard the gunshots.

    The Klansmen didn’t count on hearing the roaring racket of a Humvee rolling down the dirt road towards them or expect its driver to go through the trees, stopping directly in front of them as they dragged the beaten and bloodied couple over to a tree that had already tied the ropes to. They hadn’t expected the piercing sirens of police cars to soon follow, and find their avenues of escape to be cut off.

    They had expected the police and Guardsmen to fall back and flee when one of them grabbed a BAR from the back of one of their trucks, and opened fire on the Humvee. They also expected the police to retreat as another grabbed a Thompson submachine gun, and riddled the driver side of the first State Police Car with .45 ACP rounds. They didn’t expect the M249 atop the Humvee to start chattering, mowing down the white hooded men with frightening ease. Nor had they expected such an accurate reply from the M4’s of the soldiers, or from the State Troopers.

    Two of the Klansmen broke and ran, one of which was tackled from behind by a police K-9, and brought down in a tumbling heap. The second managed to get to his truck, put it into gear, and began to drive off, only to be pit maneuvered by a responding patrol car, and slammed into by a Humvee going 45 miles per hour, pinning the truck against a tree.

    The driver refused to surrender and drew a .45 automatic, and was subsequently enfiladed by rifle and pistol fire. The sole surviving Klansman had drawn a knife and stabbed the police dog in the leg, injuring the dog severely, and was shot, and beaten to death by the dog’s handler.

    When it was all over, it was revealed that four of the men were active duty US Army and Marines, including a Marine Captain, who had acquired the weapons for the men, and who had intended to lynch at least a few people in Oregon before retreating across the border. Their short lived rampage put two civilians in the hospital, both in critical condition, a K-9 in critical condition at an emergency vet, and a police officer to the hospital with a bullet wound in his left arm. None of the Klansmen had survived the encounter, and the after effects were felt on both sides of the border as uptime US Army commanders screamed it out with downtime Army and Marine commanders who screamed to the moon about the murder of their men.

    But that was only the first incident. The second took place at the Heron Lakes Golf Club, where three black men were accused of assaulting and attempting to rape a white army nurse who had, quite harshly and with racially charged language, rebuffed their advances. The men refused to take no for an answer, jumped her, and dragged her into some bushes with her kicking and screaming. Screaming that attracted the attention of a dozen US Army soldiers who were garrisoning the base being set up in the former gold club.

    The soldiers, upon discovering what had happened, beat the three men to within an inch of their lives, castrated them, sodomized them with bayonets, and while it was still dark, lynched the three men from the top of the Interstate Bridge, where horrified civilians, police, and soldiers alike saw the swinging corpses in the morning sun. Those events nearly caused a shootout right there between elements of the National Guard and US Army.

    Stryker MGS’ on one side and M4 Shermans on the other. It was a miracle from above that prevented both sides from opening fire on each other after that, especially when it was revealed one of the attempted rapists was an off duty Guardsmen from Detroit. There was also a security camera that caught the whole disgusting ordeal from beginning to end, in color and high definition, courtesy of the gold club’s rich owners, who wanted top security on their property. Commanders from both sides watched the entire recording with a mixture of shock, horror, anger, and revulsion. The downtime Army commanders absolutely refused to hand any of the men over and told the uptime commanders in no uncertain terms that they would not punish soldiers for defending the innocence, honor and sanctity of white women.

    That incident was what led to the situation unfolding along Interstate 5 and Delta Park right now.

    “BLACK LIVES MATTER! BLACK LIVES MATTER! BLACK LIVES MATTER!” was the chant that rose from thousands of throats as a horde of men and women marched past Delta Park and towards Hayden Island, intent on crossing the bridge that spanned the Columbia River, and entering Washington State.

    “DOWN WITH FASCISM! DOWN WITH FASCISM! DOWN WITH FASCISM!” Others chanted, themselves clad in black and red, the colors synonymous with ANTIFA, a far left terror group whose backers were traced to places like China and Iran, whose sole purpose was to divide America when it needed to be united the most. Even now, without their financial backers, they continually caused nothing but problems for the government and civil authorities. And instead of protesting the incident in the south, by far the worst of the two, they were instead here, protesting against uptime and downtime military forces.

    Protests that soon became riots as bricks, beer bottles, baseball bats, crowbars, molotov cocktails, and an assortment of firearms soon came out. Among the ranks of BLM and ANTIFA protestors were two very left wing militias, Redneck Revolt and Not Fucking Around Coalition. The first was predominately white liberals who happened to fit the stereotypical definition of redneck. The second was a Black Nationalist Militia formed nearly a decade ago, with a strong presence in Oregon, Washington, and Northern California before “The Event”. A group with the goal of establishing an all black ethnostate within the current borders of the United States.

    These four groups combined had pushed up from Portland and the surrounding areas, stretching the local and State Police, as well as National Guard dangerously thin. Hundreds had already been arrested, and several minor gunfights had broken out in Portland between NFAC and RR members and National Guard. This meant that aside from a score of State Police and a platoon of Guardsmen present in and around Delta Park, which the National Guard had taken over, the vast majority of soldiers and police officers present were from Washington State.

    At least a hundred police officers in riot gear, backed by at least two regiments of US Army regulars, supported by jeeps, M8 Greyhounds, and M4 Shermans, took up position all over the street, forming a line stretching from the Voices of Remembrance parking lot, through the gold club, up to Delta Park with the Oregon Guardsmen, and west to the Pacific NW Home Inspections offices. A long line of trucks continued to cross the bridge and back, bringing more and more soldiers as it became clear the massive armed mob was not gonna stop.

    “Jesus, how many of these uppity niggers and nigger lovers are there?” Corporal Daniels muttered as he fixed the bayonet on his Garand and pointed it hip level as his line was about to advance with the rest of the regiment, and push the rioters back where they belonged, whether they wanted it or not.

    “Too fucking many of them if you ask me. And to think this is what our country will become.” A Sergeant replied, taking the safety off his M1928 submachine gun, and readying it at his hip.

    “FUCK YOU CRACKER ASS BITCH!” A man with a mask over his face yelled as he tossed a brick towards one of the soldiers, which collided with the man’s boot.

    “NICE TRY SPEARCHUCKER!” The private taunted, making the thrower seethe as he reached for another brick, but was knocked to the ground as a team of police officers and firefighters activated several high pressure fire hoses, and swept the man, and those around him, off their feet, and on their backs.

    The line of soldiers and police advanced as the rioters, armed with makeshift shields, bats, and firearms began to charge the line. Molotov cocktails were thrown, a few of which ended up hitting close to or directly atop some soldiers, setting them on fire. The rioters cheered as they saw soldiers go down in flames, their comrades trying to put them out.

    “FASCIST MOTHERFUCKERS!”

    “PIGS IN A BLANKET, FRY EM LIKE BACON!” They chanted eagerly at the carnage they wrought on the soldiers in front of them. They even began throwing molotovs at the Oregon Guardsmen, who desperately tried to rein in the situation.

    “PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR HOMES, A CURFEW IS IN EFFECT!” A Guard Lieutenant said through a bullhorn right as a bullet hit the side of the Humvee he was standing next to, and all hell broke loose. NFAC and RR members opened fire on the Guardsmen and soldiers both, taking momentary pleasure in watching them fall until the return fire came.

    “DIE CRACKER!” One of the NFAC members screamed as he aimed a pistol towards the Lieutenant. The man didn’t get off another shot as the top of his head was clipped off by an Army sharpshooter’s Springfield rifle, and all hell broke loose.

    “OPEN FIRE!” The Lieutenant screamed just as the US Army soldiers all around them opened up.

    Hundreds of Garands, along with a slew of Thompsons, BAR’s, and Ma Duece’s let loose on the ranks of tightly packed rioters and terrorists. Even the guns atop the assortment of vehicles added their noise to the insane din. Hundreds upon hundreds of rioters fell in bloody heaps as everything from .45 ACP to even a 75mm shell from a Sherman tank, tore through flesh and bone with ease, and send bodies both tumbling, and flying through the air.

    Above the carnage, a Portland news helicopter watched as the rioters were mowed down like wheat before a diabolical mechanical reaper. The vast majority began to flee in complete disarray, with soldiers, police, and hounds running after them, or in many cases, shooting them in the back. The assorted NFAC and RR members stood their ground however, finding what cover they could, and returning fire for as long as they could. But they were horrifically outnumbered, outgunned, and out maneuvered.

    The Shermans near the Interstate Bridge spoke again, and their shells ripped the life out of those who still stood and fought. One even broke the line and advanced forward to support the advancing infantry. They didn’t advance far however, as they halted their advance to just south of Delta Park, watching the survivors flee in panic towards the bridge that would take them back to Portland, and away from the border. They had many wounded and a score of dead to tend to, as well as the hundreds of dead and dying rioters and militia who started the whole ordeal. Some had surrendered and were in custody. Others tried to surrender and were executed outright.

    In Delta Park proper, the Lieutenant who had given the order to fire in response to being shot at, looked out in stunned horror at the sight before him. Hundreds of Americans now lay in bloody heaps all over the road, sidewalks, and grass. Granted, a great many weapons were scattered amongst them, but that was little consolation over what just occurred.

    “Oh God!” Lieutenant Armitage groaned as he tasted the acid taste of bile in his throat. Leaning over, he violently threw up the contents of his stomach, an action mirrored by several others in the platoon. Others began cursing violently, others prayed, and others stared with undying hatred at their downtime countrymen and at those who had started the whole affair.

    Every single radio in his platoon began going off at once, with commanders and senior noncoms asking just what the hell had happened. His Platoon Sergeant answered the frantic requests they were getting. Once he finished his report, the whole net went quiet, and there was a very long pause on the other end as command processed just what they had been told.

    “It’s gonna be a civil war before long,” 1st Sergeant Michael Pound said in a hoarse whisper, the sights before him too close to those he saw in Pyongyang when he and his platoon held the line against charging North Korean civilians. “God Help Us!” Off in the distance, a cacophony of sirens could be heard as police and EMS rushed in from Portland, encountering the shaken survivors of the riot, unaware of the bloody carnage that awaited them ahead.
     
    Chapter 17: What The Future Holds
  • Oregon State Capitol
    Salem, Oregon
    United States of America
    21 Days Post Event

    ----------------------------------
    Slowly and deliberately, Derrick Evanson flexed the fingers of his robotic arm as he looked down at the now unconscious marine slumped against the wall. The advanced prosthetic ran all the way up to his bicep once was. There wasn't a day that went by that he missed the flesh, blood, and natural muscle that was once there. Those terrible weeks in Pyongyang had taken much from him. Many friends killed or wounded grievously, many countless more mentally scarred after doing and seeing what they did.

    But for all the horrors and pain it caused him, it's where he met his wife. The woman he loved, the woman who saved his life when a KPA tank column ambushed his platoon. When she was later shot down by a SAM site, it was thanks to a Stryker platoon form the 8th Armored, that he was able to save her in return. Despite whatever differences they may have had then, and still do now, they loved each other fiercely, and would do anything for each other.

    And in Evanson's case, do anything to defend her.

    "Courtesy of American, Korean, and Japanese robotics teams back in the 21st century. The best and the brightest minds in the world." Evanson said slowly and deliberately as he stared hard at his arm, studying how the components moved and responded perfectly to his exact thoughts. "Before this, men like me would be discharged from the military, seeing as you can't do much soldiering without an arm or a leg. Gives men and women like me purpose, lets us do what we're good at."

    "What the fuck?" One of the Marines in the room muttered while crossing himself.

    "Sweet Jesus!" A Soldier of the 25th Regiment said as he looked over at the groaning and writhing Marine who was struggling to pick himself off the floor.

    "Let's me keep doing what I'm good at. Let's me continue to fight for my country, just as it did for thousands just like me. It also lets me fight for and protect those who I love." Evanson said, looking over at Aiko, who was staring back at him, the ghost of a smile starting to appear on her beautiful face. That same face he loved waking up next to in the morning. His hardened gaze then swung over to the marine who lay on the floor, clutching at his ribs, sobbing quietly as two of his comrades helped him up. "Helps me deal with assholes who try putting their hands on my wife."

    As the Marine was slowly dragged out of the room, Evanson reapplied his synthetic skin to his arm, taking care to not snag or rip the irreplaceable cosmetic. Once it fully covered his arm, he stretched and rotated his elbow, flexed his fingers, and otherwise made sure everything looked normal.

    "I hope that is the last time I have to make an example out of anyone. Because next time, they may not get up ever again."
    —---------------------------------------------------
    Oregon State Capitol
    Salem, Oregon
    United States of America
    21 Days Post Event
    16:30 Local Time


    "You seen them sheriff types, First Sergeant?" Private Nathaniel Washington said as he looked over at the heavily armed and heavily armored Oregon State SWAT team who stood guard around and atop the Oregon State Capitol Building. "Those boys are better equipped than any regulars I've ever seen in my life, and they're just sheriffs!"

    "They got better uniforms than I've ever seen too," First Sergeant Lewis Broadus replied. "Those boys could blend in better than any of us could in the woods. Well, the ones in that strange green and brown at any rate. Those boys in blue would stick out pretty badly."

    "Sticking out or not, I wouldn't want to end up on the wrong side of em. We all remember those damned fools who tried to force their way past them." Washington remarked, remembering one of the incidents during the first days of the chaos after The Event. Some soldiers had tried to bull their way through into Oregon, and through a blockade of Oregon State Police and a small handful of National Guard.

    "Yeah, those southern boys didn't like taking orders from a black man, and the stupid bastards paid with their lives." Broadus shuddered at the memory of it. He and his unit of the 25th Infantry Regiment had been watching from afar when the militia captain aimed his revolver at the black police officer, only to be gunned down with frightening speed by at least three of other officers.

    The rest of the militia, about a dozen men in total, were hopelessly outmatched in the ensuing gunfight. They had Springfield Trapdoors and Krag Carbines against the advanced semi-automatic rifles the State Police and Guardsmen had. Even for the militiaman who had managed to hit one of the officers in the chest, his round failed to penetrate the bulletproof vest the man officer wore.

    "Stupid sons of bitches is what they were," Corporal Titus Jones remarked. "Finally got what was coming to them if you ask me. After all the shit they been giving us all these years, it's about time they got some back."

    "Yeah, these uptimers don't take kindly to hearing them call any of their own a nigger, or anything of the sort." Washington added. "Hell, me and Corporal Jones shared some cigars with them the other day. Not one of them was anything but friendly to us."

    "Meanwhile our fellow white soldiers seem to hate that fact." 1st Sergeant Broadus said. "Our fellow soldiers that aren't these uptimers anyway." Broadus let out a tired and weary sigh. Even after everything they had done in the service of the United States, most whites saw Broadus and men like him, as nothing but dressed up niggers. No matter how many stripes or what metal they wore on their collars.

    "Group of them got their asses whipped at a bar not too far away," said another soldier in the regiment, who wore a pair of glasses that were so big they looked ridiculous on him. His nickname had thus been 'The Professor' ever since he had joined. "Kept calling us and those Red Tails all sorts of nasty things, and just about every uptimer in the bar got up, and beat them black and blue."

    "The Professor ain't lying neither," Corporal Jones affirmed. "Hell, we were both present when they told President Roosevelt about the attack on New York. That black Lieutenant, the female one, and her commanding officer gave the report. The brawl that ensued when one of those sailors called her a worthless nigger..." Jones trailed off, remembering the fight between over two dozen people that broke out in full view of the President and many high ranking officers and politicians.

    The man who had said it, who had also gotten directly in the Lieutenant's face, was grabbed by his shoulder by her commanding officer, a tall blonde captain, who punched the man straight in the nose. Three more sailors proceeded to gang up on The Captain, who was in turn helped by said Lieutenant, who took a chair, and broke it over one of their heads, knocking him out cold.

    When one of the sailors grabbed the Lieutenant, Corporal Jones smashed the butt of his rifle into the man's face. After that, it became a large brawl that saw all the uptimers, along with many of black soldiers, and a smattering of white marines, going against another dozen or so white soldiers and sailors.

    It had only ended after State Police rushed into the room, and used weapons they called "Tasers" and "Pepper Spray" on the offenders. The sailor who had started the fight was one of the men who left on a stretcher, his face more closely resembling a grape than a human face. Many others, mostly his fellow white sailors and soldiers, were arrested.

    President Roosevelt and the senior ranking officials in the room were horrified at what had happened, and it had made for a very tense next couple of days as a result. However, President Roosevelt did agree that the sailor who had started it all was out of line, and deserved punishment. Admiral's Nimitz and Halsey agreed with that, as did a few others in the room.

    Admiral Evans however, was beyond furious, and wanted many of the uptimers arrested. It was also at that exact moment when an uptime Military Policeman told him where he could shove that request. That incident, coupled with yet another strange "Event" sweeping the nation, and news of skirmishes and battles taking place all over the country, made it seem as if the country was falling apart.

    "It was mighty satisfying seeing her commander stand up for his subordinate," Private Washington said. "Lord knows ain't many white officers would do the same for us."

    "These uptimers are well and truly a different breed." Came the voice of Captain Charles Young, victim of all the strangeness these last few weeks, and the only black officer belonging to the United States Army of 1907. "It's almost unbelievable how they act or don't act towards us. Even when I got to talking to that Lieutenant, the things she had to tell me seemed almost fanciful."

    "That's the impression I got as well, sir," Broadus replied. "I had a conversation with that Lieutenant as well. Seems that was the first time in her life anyone ever called her a nigger, and it showed."

    "Does seem like the future is a bright one, sir," First Sergeant Broadus replied. "But there are some things I still can't seem to wrap my mind around. The way these uptimers talk and dress for one. Just yesterday I saw a girl with hair the color of a rainbow, with a man who wore some of the tightest trousers I have ever seen on anyone."

    "Yeah, these people are certainly strange, First Sergeant. But I'll take the strangeness and politeness over the familiar and hatred." The Professor said, and several other soldiers nodded their agreement. "Even if I never get used to it myself, I would rather live here in these uptimer lands than anywhere else in the country."

    "Speaking of getting used to, did yall see that one uptime soldier? The one with the Japanese wife?"

    "You mean the one with the metal arm who tossed that buckra into next week when he touched his wife?" Private William Moses replied. "Ain't many men scare me, but I'll be damned if I ever cross that crazy bastard." The Native Louisianian said.

    "As long as you don't threaten the man's wife you'll be fine." Corporal Jones said.

    "I don't think any of us will be doing any of that." Private Moses said. "Got to talking with a few of his soldiers earlier today. Say he's a great man as long as you do what's youse supposed to do. Ain't one for a whole lotta yelling either."

    "A real leader only yells when he absolutely has to, otherwise you'll be seen as nothing but a damn fool." First Sergeant Broadus said as a small grin crossed his features. "After all, you boys do as you're told, and I rarely have to yell at you!" He laughed, and several other soldiers joined in. It was nice seeing the First Sergeant in such a friendly mood. Most others wouldn't be as jovial or friendly with their men in times like this. But then again, these weren't normal times.

    Something they were reminded of as a trio of tan colored trucks, "Humvees", the uptimers called them, escorted by black armored cars with the word "SWAT" emblazoned on the side, pulled up in front of the Capitol Building, and men began pouring out, and forming a perimeter. They watched the heavily armed and armored men move with precision and with skill you'd be hard pressed to find in the regular army.

    "Just what has happened in the future that has made it necessary for sheriffs to be armed like that?" Private Washington said as he stared out at the procession in front of him. His thoughts were echoed by many in the 25th ever since they entered Oregon.

    "Nothing good, Private," Captain Young said, a dark expression on his face as he recalled a conversation with some of those same 'SWAT' officers over that same topic. North Hollywood, Waco, Norco, Columbine, and Sandy Hook. Just a few of the incidents the uptimers had told him about, all of which made Young sick to his stomach. The Second Amendment guaranteed a citizen's right to bear arms, but did arms like those used by the uptimers belong in the hands of regular people? When he saw some of the pictures provided by the officers and soldiers of those incidents, he had made up his mind right then and there. "Nothing good at all."
    —-----------------------
    Oregon State Capitol
    Salem, Oregon
    United States of America
    21 Days Post Event, Two Day Post Second Event
    16:30 Local Time


    When President Theodore Roosevelt was finally alone in his private office, he wept. He wept for the great calamity that was consuming his nation. In his unknowing and mysterious ways, God had seen fit to cast his great nation into an upheaval not since the days of the Civil War, only much worse than that.

    His beloved country was split into several parts, with many states, including the entire Pacific Coast, being replaced with those from the future. Half of the states were from a few decades in the future, while the other half were from well over a century removed. Many millions of his fellow countrymen from his time were just gone! The fact that they had been sent to the future, and replaced by more advanced and powerful states meant little.

    It meant little to the families and friends of all those who were now gone. It meant little to the economy which had been ravaged by these events, made worse by the fact that another event had occurred late days prior. It meant little when his countrymen couldn't stop fighting amongst themselves and unite against the common enemies they now faced.

    When the attack in Astoria took place, Roosevelt was furious. Although the incursion by the Jap submarines had been dealt with swiftly, and brutally, and only a single Jap pilot survived that battle, it was still embarrassing for his country. But in that battle, Roosevelt had seen his countrymen, past, present, and future, work together to put down the yellow invaders. Granted, he knew there was a great deal of tension, but they worked together.

    But when news of the Attack on New York came through, and the full color pictures started to come in, all that changed. Even when men and women from all three periods in history had wept at the sight of the Statue of Liberty missing her upper torso, Roosevelt remained stoic, even when he too wanted to join them. Everyone had agreed that those responsible would pay for the attack and god help the Germans dragged out of the water by the Navy and Coast Guard. But when soldiers and sailors started to put blame on the Americans from the 21st century, claiming they hadn't done enough to prevent the attack, the problems got worse.

    When the negress Lieutenant, who delivered the news of the attack with her commanding officer, was verbally assailed by a sailor who had accompanied Roosevelt and Admiral Evans to the West Coast, it started a brawl between the American troops in the room. A brawl which had Roosevelt and every senior officer appalled at the brutality of. A brawl that ended with Military Police of the uptime variety dragging away almost exclusively men who weren't from their time.

    When Admiral Evans had demanded that they also arrest the black soldiers in the room who had assaulted white men and officers, he had been told in no uncertain, and quite colorful terms, that they would not. In fact, the MP had even threatened to arrest Evans as well.

    And this was not the first such incident to have occurred, just the most recent, and first he had seen. Then the news came about the massacre in Louisiana. In response to reports of "Roving bands of raping negroes" from Arkansas, Governor Blanchard ordered the National Guard to put them down, and to hell with what any of the uptimers thought.

    His mindset had sent hundreds of good men to their deaths. Men whose talents could have been used against very real enemies just off America's shores. Indeed, the mindset of Governor Blanchard was shared by others as well. Governor Swanson of Virginia had also ordered National Guard troops into West Virginia, despite being explicitly told not to do so.

    His ordering of the National Guard, against explicit presidential orders, resulted in a death toll that was still being counted, and scattered fighting that was still ongoing. As a result, Roosevelt ordered Federal troops into both Louisiana and Virginia to force the National Guard to stand down, and to arrest Governor's Blanchard and Swanson. If Roosevelt got his way, both of the men would hang. Then there was the battle in Portland…would this strife ever end? Roosevelt prayed that it would.

    But that was only part of why Roosevelt felt the way he did.

    The United States had enemies off both coasts, both of which were more advanced than the majority of the country, and most of his countrymen were fighting each other. This greatly upset Roosevelt. If they could not stop fighting and killing each other, then how could they hope to stand against Japan and Germany?

    Both nations stood to gain much at the expense of the United States, especially with the internal turmoil wracking the country. Roosevelt did not like the thought of the United States having to concede to either the German or Japanese Empires, but if America was unable to sort out its internal issues, what other choice would they have?

    "God, why have you done this to us?" Roosevelt asked as he looked up at the ceiling. "What have we done to deserve your wrath?" Roosevelt could now understand what Lincoln must have gone through during those terrible days during the War Between The States, waiting to hear news about what calamity had befallen the Union Army, or what great victory they had achieved.

    Roosevelt was horrified at the thought of another American Civil War, one whose casualties would far exceed those of the first. The technological marvels of the states of 1943 were far superior to everything his regular army could field. The states from the year 2024…those were truly horrifying. If open conflict erupted between them, it would make the Battles of Antietam and Gettysburg look like child's play. If the forces under his normal control had to fight either armies, it would be a slaughter like Cold Harbor and Mary's Heights.

    That was another thing that bothered him. The United States had three different armies. Hell, it had three of every branch, plus an Air Corps, Air Force, and a Space Force! By God, the United States even reached the stars! And this wasn't counting those scattered units in Puerto Rico or elsewhere in the country.

    But he knew that his control over the 'uptime forces' as they were being called, was nominal at best. He and the rest of his cabinet knew as such. They possessed weapons and equipment with capabilities they could never have imagined. They would obey his orders, but only to a point. His countrymen from the 21st century were so radically liberal that it befuddled him. Roosevelt couldn't help but wonder just what a presidential election, nevermind a congressional or senate election would look like in the upcoming years.

    He let out a tired sigh. His nation, which was destined for greatness at such heights he had never dared to dream, seemed to be coming apart at the seams. If his nation could pull through it however, the United States of America would be the dominant nation on Earth for a very long time. If his young nation could pull through. With the way it was looking to him, that seemed to be in doubt.

    Before he could dwell on it any further, he heard a knock at the door.

    "Mr President," A female voice on the other side called. "Agent Blackford, Secret Service." One of the uptime Secret Service. A few dozen of them, along with an utterly massive blue and white plane, had appeared in Northern Nevada yesterday, That and a number of various military aeroplanes that even had most of the uptimers absolutely confused. Something about them having crashed decades ago or something to that effect. It didn't matter.

    "You may come in, Miss Blackford," President Roosevelt replied, quickly using a handkerchief to clear up the fog from his pince-nez. It just would not do to let anyone know he was crying in private, even a member of the Secret Service. The door opened, and Agent Blackford, with three other Agents, and an Army Captain, entered the room.

    "Mr President, Air Force One is ready to transport you back to DC, and our counterparts in the city have been informed, and are waiting as we speak." She announced. That was another thing that drove Roosevelt's desire to return to Washington. The capital had once again been the center of another Event, and if everything he had been hearing was correct, was massive.

    "Am I correct in assuming that there is a suitable place for that magnificent airplane you all arrived with?" He asked.

    "Yes, Mr President. There is an air base at Anacostia that we can land at. It's shorter than we're used to, but the pilots say they can do it."

    "Very good then. What about congress, have they arrived in the city yet?" Roosevelt asked as he rose from his chair.

    "As of right now, there is enough for a quorum, and more are converging on the city as we speak." Another agent replied. "There's just one problem some senators and congressmen face right now."

    "And that is?"

    "Those that aren't of our time, Mr President," A third Agent said, this time one of the ones who accompanied Roosevelt to Oregon.

    "Many of those from the 21st century states aren't white and or male, Mr President," Blackford replied without hesitation. "Most, with great justification, believe they'll be lynched without protection. And many of those who will be protecting them also fall in those categories."

    "And we will not segregate our forces to make southern senators happy," The Army Captain, whose name tag read 'Harrison' added.

    "At this point the only thing to make them happy would be you fine people going back to your time." Roosevelt let out a tired sigh. "Very well then. I assume all the details have been worked out by you fine people?"

    "Indeed they have, sir," Harrison replied. "In addition to the Secret Service escort, a number of Special Operations Personnel are being detached to Air Force Once as well. It's the least we can do since an air escort from here to DC isn't possible."

    "I still can't believe that one either," Agent Blackford commented. "All these men being brought back from the dead, right?"

    "Believe me, we're just as confused about that as yall are. But at least you'll have some Delta boys and Seals watching your back in DC." Turning to Roosevelt, Harrison said, "Are you ready to depart now, Mr President?"

    "Almost, young man!" Roosevelt said as he practically leapt to his feet with a burst of energy that was unsurprising coming from a President who was as much a living legend in real life as he was in history. "I just have one request before we depart."

    "And what is it, Mr President?" Harrison asked.

    "I would like you to find that neg- I mean that colored Lieutenant, Harper was her name, yes? And send her to my office." Roosevelt requested. "I wish to speak with her over what transpired recently. Oh, and bring General Pershing here as well."

    Harrison and the Secret Service Agents looked at each other puzzled for a moment, before nodding, and leaving his office to bring back the respective individuals. That was one final affair he needed to put in order before he left for Washington with Pershing and the rest of his cabinet. He was upset and angry over the brawl that had occurred in this same building only days ago, of which the repercussions were still being felt.

    In the aftermath of that, Roosevelt and Pershing both requested a complete file of Lieutenant Harper's military record. Pershing had a professional curiosity regarding her military history, while Roosevelt was eager to learn about how a negro woman managed to achieve such a rank and position. When they both finally read her file, it became clear to the both of them just how she had managed that.

    In light of that, General Pershing insisted, and Roosevelt agreed, that the least they could do for the young Lieutenant was apologize for the unwanted insults and assault levied upon her by those sailors. Well, that was likely to happen anyway, but in light of her accomplishments in the service of the United States, they felt it a more pressing matter to resolve.

    "A Chinese submarine off Alaska?" Roosevelt muttered to himself. The thought was more than a little bewildering to him, but what the next century held was beyond even the wildest of imaginations of anyone in his time. "My Lord, is this what the future holds?
     
    Chapter 18: Heart to Heart
  • I meant for this to be out at least a week ago, but life has been throwing random shit at me to deal with. My mother and most of my friends still live in Florida and if you keep up with the news, you know exactly what happened. Plus there's work related stress and the fact that people on Okinawa can't go a single weekend without committing some sort of crime, which means group punishment for all. But I finally found the proper motivation this weekend to finish this chapter up and get it posted. The ending may seem kinda weak, but I was blanking on what else I could have done, and I feel what needed to be said has been said.

    That all said, I really hope you all enjoy this.
    -------------------------------
    As 1st Lieutenant Denise Harper made her way upstairs towards what were the current quarters of the President of the United States, she couldn't but wonder if she did anything wrong to warrant such an invitation. Well, she could think of one thing that might have prompted it, but why her, and her alone? The two Secret Service Agents escorting her hadn't answered any of her questions and seemed in a hurry to get her to the President. She hadn't been reprimanded for defending herself that day, nor for defending her Commander.

    However, the incident itself has only solidified the request and now present order that all servicemen be issued a sidearm while on duty, and all officers were to be issued for even when off duty. Personal firearm ownership had also gone up, as gun stores around Oregon, as well as other states, were being milked dry by people wanting protection in a much more dangerous world. Her own personal M9 was in a holster on her belt and Harper thanked the God she didn't believe in that she hadn't drawn it in a real situation.

    She wore it around the clock, on and off duty, although there was barely a distinction there. Pulling 12 hour shifts ever since this all started left her little time for anything other than some gym time and sleep. But that was the same for almost everyone else. When Harper and the Agents escorting her finally reached the room, the female agent, Blackford was her name, gestured at her sidearm.

    "Standard procedure for anyone, Lieutenant," She said, moving directly in front of Harper. "You will get it back once the meeting ends.

    "I understand, Agent Blackford," Harper said as she drew her sidearm from its holster and handed it to Blackford. "Can't say I ever imagined myself doing this."

    "You aren't the only one, Lieutenant," Blackford replied wearily as she took the M9 from Harper. "President Roosevelt and General Pershing are waiting for you inside."

    "General Pershing?" Harper said, a little startled.

    "Yes, Roosevelt had requested his presence as well, and arrived a bit before we found you," Blackford said, watching as Harper began to pat down and smoothen her uniform and fix her collar. "These last few weeks have been rough on us all, Lieutenant, I doubt either of them will care if your uniform is a bit messy."

    "Even General Pershing's uniform is looking rather disheveled," One of the downtime Secret Service members remarked as he opened the door to the office, and gestured for her to enter. "Don't think either of them will mind all that much if you have a crumpled uniform. They await you inside, Lieutenant."
    —-------------------------------------
    As Lieutenant Harper entered the office, she was met with the sight of President Theodore Roosevelt sitting behind his desk, and General John Pershing standing beside the desk. The Secret Service Agents were not lying when they told her that the state of her uniform would not matter to either man. Pershing's normally immaculate appearance was absent, his uniform sporting wrinkles and folds, just as Roosevelt's suit had. Both men looked utterly exhausted and Harper could see the faintest hint of red in the president's eyes. If he had been crying, Harper could not and would not hold it against him. The last few weeks would have broken lesser men.

    But Theodore Roosevelt, both in his day, and in the 21st century, was regarded as a living legend. His behavior in the aftermath of The Event, his jubilance, and his absolute fascination with modern technology, combined with his no nonsense attitude, had done nothing to dissuade anyone of that fact.

    Whereas John Pershing was a strict and rigid officer, who expected the best from those under his command, and treated them equally no matter what color they were. A fact that, combined with his strictness and rigid attitudes to discipline, had earned him the name "Nigger Jack" by southern officers and cadets at West Point. A name that she'd heard before by some of the downtime soldiers who despised Pershing for not treating black soldiers like animals.

    He didn't show favoritism to black soldiers, he simply treated them like human beings, and testimony from members of the 10th Cavalry confirmed as much. Many in the Army hated Pershing simply for that reason. The kindness he had shown her when they first met was why most southerners had hated him, as she learned that same day.

    Now their gaze was fixed upon her and out of trained reflex, she snapped herself to attention, and brought her right hand up in a salute. It would not do to forget basic protocol in the presence of one of America's greatest presidents, and a General she personally admired even before The Event. Much to Harper's surprise, Roosevelt and Pershing both waved away her salute, while Roosevelt stood up, and Pershing spoke.

    "There is a time and a place for such, Lieutenant," Pershing said amiably. "But in such an informal setting, it is not required."

    "Yes sir," Harper replied, breath almost catching in her throat. "May I ask what this is about sir?" She asked, watching as President Roosevelt made his way over to her.

    "It is about the most unjust and unchivalrous treatment you received the week prior," Roosevelt began. "I would have gotten around to this sooner, but as you can very well imagine, I have been quite busy."

    "We all have, Lieutenant Harper, just I imagine you have," General Pershing added. "But we both feel this is necessary."

    "I will keep this quite brief, as neither myself, General Pershing, or even you uptimers, are fond of long speeches," Roosevelt said with a slight chuckle. "The reason for this meeting is to address what occurred to you last week."

    "It's alr-" Harper began but was cut off by a wave of Roosevelt's hand.

    "No it is not, Lieutenant. I understand that you uptimers are quite different in your ways of doing things, but what that sailor said to you was unacceptable. Quite frankly, the whole situation itself was unacceptable, but that's a discussion for a different day. But suffice to say, and despite what Admiral Evans may wish, those sailors will be punished for what they did." Roosevelt said quite sternly.

    "I want this to be perfectly clear, Lieutenant Harper, what happened to you was unacceptable," Pershing added. "No woman, officer, or in your case, both, should ever be treated the way you were by those sailors. Especially in light of the service which you have performed for your country."

    "Service, I might add, has saved innumerable lives, and helped us prevent more attacks on American soil," Roosevelt said. "Especially the way you and those pilots tracked and sunk that Jap submarine off the coast of Alaska. Most excellent work indeed!"

    "I was not the one who sunk the submarine, sir," Harper replied. "It was 1st Lieutenant Redding and the Red Tails who ran it aground, not me."

    "Ah, but what you are is here, right now, and it was your due diligence and attention to detail that let those brave fliers run those perfidious yellow savages down," Roosevelt said as he reached out his hand to shake Harper's, all the while clasping his hand on her shoulder tightly. In his excitement, he failed to realize the slight look of unease on her face at his casual use of racial terminology when referring to the Japanese, something Pershing did not fail to notice. "But then again, that isn't the first time you've helped track down a submarine and sink it, is it?"

    Harper's normally neutral expression and ability to mask her thoughts failed her for the first time in a long time, as her eyes widened slightly at the accusation. Harper knew exactly what the President was referring to, but the only question was how?

    "How did-" Harper began once again, but was cut off by Pershing.

    "I personally requested from your Flight Commander, details regarding your military service, your performance in Officer Training, what you had done prior to The Event, and what you have achieved since." General Pershing said. "And I must say, your record, as strange as it was to read given the disparity in time between myself and you, is impressive."

    "Tracking and sinking a rogue Chinese submarine whose commander wanted to destroy the entire West Coast is more than just impressive, it's downright heroic if you ask me!" Roosevelt added as he smiled at the young Lieutenant. Harper was about to say something as well, but he spoke before she could. "Yes, yes, I know it wasn't just you. That Lieutenant Redding also took part in that as well, as did your Commanding Officer, but neither of them are here. You are, however!"

    "That is another thing that sticks out about you, Lieutenant," General Pershing said as he approached Harper and stuck out his hand in turn. "Self effacing, not one to revel in glory or praise, fairly by the book in adherence to protocol, but is capable of flexibility should the need arise. All good qualities for an officer to possess."

    "Thank your sir."

    "Let me be clear with you, Lieutenant," Pershing said as he withdrew his hand. "I have never particularly cared whether the soldiers under my command were white or black. I cared that they were capable of performing the tasks that were required of them. Many southern officers despised me for my command of the 10th Cavalry, but those men would have followed me into hell, and I could not have asked for better soldiers. They were good soldiers then and are still good soldiers today."

    "What General Pershing is trying to get at Lieutenant is that you are a good soldier," Roosevelt interrupted. "You have proven that not only in the time you came from, but here as well. I do not wish you to think that your actions have gone unappreciated by those such as myself and Pershing. In these trying times, the United States will need all the qualified men and women it can get its hand on and more!"

    "And while I find many of the views you uptimers hold as…strange to my way of thinking, I see no reason to treat you as if you were the herald of the end times. To be quite frank, we need you, Lieutenant Harper. You and those like you. If we wish this country to remain united, we will need people like you in the trying times that lay ahead."

    "I understand, Mr President." Harper replied simply.

    "I don't think you do, Lieutenant," Pershing said. "You and your colleagues are invaluable to the United States. From what I have witnessed of your weapons and technology, it would be a crippling blow to lose you, and doubly so if we end up fighting each other instead of the enemy's off our shores. We need you! We need all of you!" Pershing said, putting emphasis on those last few words.

    "You are not worthless, Lieutenant Harper. Not to me, not to Pershing, and not to Admirals Nimitz and Halsey, who also wished for me to convey their thanks for your fine work. What you and your fellow soldiers have accomplished has not and will not go unnoticed and is certainly appreciated." Roosevelt let out a deep, tired sigh as he finished, his face crinkling into frown as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't feel dispirited, Harper. I know things seem bad, and if I am being honest with you, they very much are. We have been faced with a calamity not seen since the War Between the States and if we are to survive these trials that the good lord has set upon us, we will need people like you."

    "This might not be the America I grew up in, Mr President, but this is still my country, and it's still my home. The oath I swore still means something to me and I will not go back on it." Harper replied simply. "For as long as my country needs me, I will be there for it. And with the ways things look, this will be my job for the foreseeable future. All I ask for is trust in myself and my colleagues. Trust that we can do what our nation requires of us."

    "Thank you, Lieutenant," Roosevelt said as a smile began to shine across his tired face. "And rest assured, you will have what you ask for!"
     
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