by Unknown
Hammond turned to Bayard. “No, Mister President. You have been most kind.”
“Nonsense. We are all in this war together. It should never be said that France was not a full participant. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have another appointment,” Bayard said dismissing the men.
Both saluted and left the room. As they left, Gagne asked, “You speak French?”
Powell, Tennessee
It was Friday evening before Rod Jeffers felt the tension and stress slough off. Whether it was his Mom’s cooking or just getting out into the clean mountain air, he could feel his shoulders lifting and a smile returning to his face. There had been all the questions about what he was doing and where he might be going. Unfortunately, he couldn’t really tell them anything. He did say that he would probably be going to sea within the next month. That had upset his mother terribly. The naval losses had led the news reports for a while and the thought of her boy being on one of those ships was almost unbearable. It was his father who had calmed her and set things straight.
Now it was Saturday evening. Since Rod would be leaving the next day and wouldn’t be home for Christmas, the whole family came to share a meal and spend time together. It was almost like Christmas. There was a turkey, ham, squash casserole, rice and gravy, green beans, fresh roles and several other side dishes. A fire was in the fireplace. Not one of those gas log things, but a real wood burning fire. The rooms filled with warmth, laughter and good natured kidding.
After the meal, Rod and his brother Jason gathered the dishes and began cleaning them off and placing them in the dishwasher. It was a job he had grown up with and felt like he needed to do. They were about finished when they began to hear people tuning up instruments in the large family den. Rod got a big smile on his face and quickly placed the last dish in the machine and turned it on. He made his way to his room and pulled out a case, then making his way back down to the den. He was halfway there when he heard the group break out into the old gospel song, “In the Sweet Bye and Bye.”
They were all there. His Dad, Uncle Jennings and Uncle Wilfred were playing guitars. Grandma Ruby had brought out her autoharp. Cousin Caleb was picking his bass fiddle and Cousin Josh had his mandolin. Mom even brought out an old washboard she had kept from Great Grandma Hattie. She might be tone deaf, but she had a rhythm that you could set a watch to. Aunt Janice had even pulled out her old fiddle. The rest of the family was gathered around the room, some sitting on pillows and others in chairs brought in from the dining room. As the group played, the rest joined in with the singing. Rod was the last to sit down. He opened the case and pulled out his five string banjo. He had tuned it earlier and hopped right in with the rest.
It was something the family did every so often during the year. Yes, the Jeffers family was what people called ‘well to do,’ but none of them ever forgot where they had come from. The hills of Tennessee were imbedded deep in their souls and despite the college educations and acquired sophistication, this was where they felt at home. Song after song drifted from the house into the surrounding countryside. It was almost like a healing balm for everyone there – a natural part of home. In between each song the family members would show their approval, praising one family member or another and the talent they displayed.
A few songs in, Rod’s father quieted everyone. “Okay, hold on. Now tonight we wanted to get the family together because Rod, here, is getting ready to go be a part of this war. Our family has proudly served from the revolution up through this latest in Korea. Rod is the first one who is serving as an officer. Rod, the family is proud of you and we wanted to get together this one last time before you left. When you get back we’ll do it again to celebrate. So tonight is yours, son, what would you like to do?” he father asked.
Rod was blushing slightly. “I’m enjoying all of it. Grandma, what would you like to do tonight?” he asked.
Grandma Ruby broke into a wide grin. “Let me sing “Sunny Side” to you,” she said. Rod’s father gave her a wink. “Jennings, lead this off.”
Uncle Jennings began strumming the melody on his guitar and Grandma Ruby began strumming her autoharp. She sang the stanzas and the family joined in on the chorus.
Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side,
Keep on the sunny side of life.
It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way,
If we keep on the sunny side of life….
Everyone sat back and let the music flow from them. Rod could tell that the song was Grandma’s way of telling him to be careful and stay upright. That alone touched him more than anything. When the song ended, Rod almost immediately broke into the “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” He knew it was one of her favorites ever since he learned to play it. His fingers seemed to fly across the strings and the others were letting out whoops as he led the way. On occasion, he would nod to one of the others and they would pick it up, adding spice to the mix and exciting the others in the room. In the end, Rod took off with it again and wrapped it up. On the last note several of the family jumped out of their seats, calling out their approval.
“Boy, you sure do know how to pick that thing,” exclaimed his Uncle Wilfred.
“Best Christmas present we ever got him,” laughed his father. He turned to Janice. “Sister, you get better with that thing every day,” he shouted.
By now, everyone was talking and laughing. It only stopped when Janice started playing an old song called “Down Yonder.” After a few measures, the rest joined in. As before everyone seemed to have an instinct of when to take the lead and when to step back. Song after song filled the house with the sweet country sounds until finally Rod’s Mom announced that the cake and coffee were ready and everyone broke up. They all got their dessert and sat around in small groups around the room, talking quietly. Rod found himself beside Grandma Hattie.
“Do you know how long you will be away?” she asked in a cracking voice.
He shook his head. “No, Grandma, they may keep me busy for a while. You know this is going to be going on for some time. But I’ll get back,” he reassured her.
She took a breath. “Well, were you planning on getting married to that girl you were dating? Nancy was her name, wasn’t it?” Grandma asked.
Rod grinned at her. Grandma had a touch of Alzheimer’s and had forgotten that the two hadn’t been together for at least five years. “No, Grandma, she’s gone her separate ways. I’m still on the lookout, though. One of these days I’m going to find someone that meets my criteria. When that happens, I’ll bring her home to you,” he reassured her.
“Just make sure your standards aren’t too high. I’m not going to be around forever, you know.”
Rod chuckled. “Not so high. I just want someone that is as smart as I am so that we talk about things instead of just talking at each other. I need somebody to be able to accompany me on my banjo, and to do things with me instead of around me. Of course, I’d like her to be just as pretty as you were in your day,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Grandma Hattie laughed. “I’m still a good catch you little imp,” she said with a wink. “You just take your time. That girl will be out there waiting for you. And if she can’t cook, I’ll teach her everything I know,” she promised. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m awful proud of you Roderick. Just come home when this is over,” she said softly.
Rod smiled at his grandmother and took her hands. “I promise, Grandma.”
The Vatican
The meeting had been hastily arranged away from the prying eyes of the media that seemed to be everywhere. Pope Gregory XVII welcomed Chancellor Vogel in his private chambers. As Vogel entered, he bowed and kissed the Pope’s ring before being offered a seat beside the Pontiff.
“Thank you for receiving me under these circumstances, Your Holiness,” said Vogel.
The Pope waived it off. “With all the troubles of the world at the present time, I hope the Church can be of service. What can we do to serve
our brothers and sisters in Germany?” he asked.
“Actually, I am coming representing all of the Allied nations, Your Holiness,” Vogel said.
The Pope’s eyes opened wider. “Ahh, it must be important then,” he offered with a smile.
“We feel it is, Your Holiness. We are asking if you would speak with the Patriarch of Moscow and all Rus’ asking him to speak out against this war,” said Vogel.
The Pope smiled and sat back slightly. “Chancellor, you know the Church has adopted a policy where we cannot interfere in the affairs of government. We offer our opinions and hope people will listen, but we are here for the spiritual wellbeing of all God’s children,” he lectured.
The Chancellor nodded. “I understand, Your Holiness, however Germany, in particular, would urge you to do so. You see, when Hitler came to power, the church decided to turn a blind eye to his government. It didn’t interfere when such interference might have changed a great deal. Imagine if the Holy Church had spoken out against his government. Yes, some of our priests might have been imprisoned, but the people might have had second thoughts about his leadership long before he consolidated his power. The people of the church may have won out. It may have kept him from starting a war. Of course, this isn’t criticism of the Church, but it gives us an example of how the moral spirit, which is a part of the Church, was not awakened. We in Germany suffered because of it, and would wish others could avoid it. Your Holiness, you and the other church leaders are the great conscience of the people of the world. We are simply asking that our spiritual leaders exercise that conscience. Help the people think about what is being done and let their moral obligations to others lead them. We may be at war, but I believe people are basically good and that if we ask them to decide on right and wrong, they will chose the right. That is why I humbly ask you intercession,” Vogel pleaded.
The Pope’s face was a mask of concern. What Vogel said was correct. The Church had regretted its decisions regarding Germany when they might have helped. He was also correct about the spiritual mission of the church and what it teaches its people. Could something like this help? Would the Patriarch be willing to do this? He could use the same arguments with him. On the other hand, should he consider it at all? The troubled look on his face was evident to Vogel. “I see your points and I will take them into consideration. What you ask is difficult, but I can see why you ask and I know it is because you feel it may serve the better good.” He reached over and placed his hand on Vogel’s arm. “You have given me something to pray about,” he said with a smile.
Vornovo, Russia
“General Pusko, for the last weeks we have lost ground in Poland. Why is that?” asked President Borodin in front of the general staff.
Pusko knew this was coming and unfortunately, he had not been able to come up with an acceptable answer. “It is difficult to say, Mister President. The allied tactics are still befuddling to us. They seem to be able to attack our soldiers at night as we rest or try to perform maintenance duties. No one has been able to sleep for days unless we pull our men and equipment far behind the lines. Even then, the troops left to hold the front are attacked. We do not even know what is attacking us. Then in the early dawn, their tanks appear and take the lightly defended ground before we can send up the necessary reinforcements,” Pusko explained. Borodin could tell by his voice the man was frustrated.
“Continue,” Borodin ordered sternly.
“The night skies are also filled with their Predator drones. They sweep farther back into our positions and go after the supply trains. As you recall, we sent in another five divisions. They found the door open to them all the way to our lines, but then the supplies and replacements were stopped by both air and armor. We found ourselves almost surrounded. We send more in, then everything is cut off. Now we are concentrating on making sure the supply lines are well protected all the way. During the day, our fighters fill the skies, but at night, the Allies control everything. We send in fighters and our radars can’t see anything. Suddenly our fighters are blown from the sky. The Allied stealth technology is much more effective than we expected,” Pusko said. The other generals in the room were nodding their heads.
Borodin saw defeat in their eyes. He had to get control. “That is enough! You offer excuses, but we need answers. You say our men are attacked in the open. Then from here on, the tank crews live and sleep in their tanks. They can’t get shot through all that armor. Send the food and supplied in armored vehicles, anything you need, but our push forward must resume at once!” he demanded. “I believe we need to set the example. Order the commanding general back to Moskow. Place him under arrest for dereliction of duty. Then send in someone who can make things happen,” Borodin ordered.
Pusko blanched at the thought. It was like the stories of the purges under Marshal Stalin. “You realize that the man has only been in command for five days. All of the former commanders were killed.”
Borodin turned in a wrath. “Do not argue with me! Bring him here at once!” he shouted.
Pusko nodded. “It will be done,” he said.
“Good. What other measures need to be taken?” asked Borodin.
Pusko gave a sigh. “It also appears the Allies are able to see our troop movements. Our intelligence people have identified one of their newer spy satellites in a stationary orbit over Europe. If it is true that they have real-time image capability, they will be able to see everything we do.”
Borodin rubbed his chin. This was a real threat and would explain everything that had been going on. He looked at the others. “Perhaps we need to do something about that. Are you sure this is the only one up there?” he asked.
Pusko nodded. “There are others, but the other two are not giving off any electromagnetic signals. We assume they are relays for other satellites since no signals are being beamed back to earth. If the one spy satellite is removed, we get an advantage. Most of our satellites are not in orbit. We send them over twice a day and they return the images. The two we have to send photos in a stationary orbit send in their images three times a day. That is enough to know where they are,” Pusko reassured him.
“Then it is time we took our war to space,” said Borodin. “Destroy the spy satellite. Once that is done, take out the other two as well. Let them know we mean business.”
“It will violate the treaty,” reminded Pusko.
Borodin chuckled. “War is a violation of treaty, General. Send the satellite killers up.”
CIA Headquarters
“We have a launch,” reported one of the operators at her console. “Single launch. Following the trajectory,” she announced.
After a few minutes she began to breathe a little easier. “It appears to be a satellite launch. It looks like to may come near our KH-14 over Europe,” she said.
The supervisor was now looking over her shoulder at her console. “I hate it when they launch things. You almost can’t be sure it’s not aimed for us,” he said. He saw her nod without taking her eyes off her instruments.
“I agree. But at least this one will stay in orbit for a while. It has a trajectory taking it within about 100 kilometers of the KH-14,” she said.
“Can’t expect them not to try and gather intelligence during a war. Unfortunately we signed a treaty keeping us from shooting those things down,” he mentioned.
The satellite began slowing and coming to the same altitude of the American spy satellite. Suddenly the Russian changed course and sped up. This time it was aimed directly at the large KH-14 over Europe.
“Get it out of the way!” screamed the supervisor. At one of the consoles an older man began issuing orders to the satellite. But it was too late. The Russian exploded not 100 meters from the KH-14 sending its shrapnel to shred the American to bits. The input from the KH-14 abruptly ended.
In a corner of the room a lone figure sat back in his seat. “Ladies and gentlemen it appears the Russians have taken the next step. I have already spoken to the President. If this happened, he
authorized ‘Wet Blanket.’ Initiate the Star Wars system and fully protect our space assets,” he said.
One of the operators turned to his console and engaged an older start up code. It had begun in the Reagan Administration and had been updated periodically, but until now, no one had realized that the much touted ‘Star Wars’ system had actually been deployed. Within seconds, a code was sent to the satellites. Huge solar arrays began to open up to give the onboard weapons their power. In a little over fifteen minutes, a signal appeared on the operator’s screen. The system was up and running.
Thirty minutes later two more rockets lifted off from Yasny Cosmodrome. Their trajectories showed them headed toward the Eyeball satellites over Europe. The information was automatically passed to the Brilliant Pebbles satellite nearby. Its laser slewed toward the incoming targets. For the first time in nearly twenty years, the laser powered up. When within 1000 miles, it fired. The Russian intercept missile began glowing red hot. Its outer casing began flaking away until the inner workings were exposed, then they too began to melt away. The warhead didn’t detonate. Instead, the now inert projectile sped past Eyeball some 100 miles away and began its slow decay back to earth. The second missile was just three minutes behind the first. Once again, the laser fired. This time, the laser burned away the outer skin further back along the projectile. The vessel containing the warhead melted away as well. The laser detonated the explosives within, sending shrapnel out into space nowhere near the Americans, but striking a Korean communications satellite some five hundred miles away. With no other targets, Brilliant Pebbles reset itself to standby and waited as it had for over twenty years.
The Bay of Naples
