The Second Civil War- The Complete History

by Adam Yoshida

  “In yon straight path a thousand may well be stopped by three,” said the Governor to himself quietly.

  “Excuse me, Governor?” said Colonel Brendan Hull, the commander of the Arizona State Guard’s provisional First Brigade.

  “Just something I read at school,” said the Governor, who had been unaware that anyone was listening before continuing, “now let’s kick some Goddamned commie ass.”

  The Arizona State Guard may have lacked the heavy equipment that the regular forces possessed, but they had managed to acquire more than a few neat toys from various sources over the previous six months.

  “Yes, Governor,” replied Colonel Hull before raising his radio up to his mouth.

  “You may open fire,” said the Colonel.

  Two dozen soldiers, carefully positioned along the sides of the highway, rose up from their concealed positions and began to fire Russian-made RPG-7s at the vehicles being used by the AUS forces.

  The rockets were fired from just short of their maximum range of a thousand yards. As a result, the unguided weapons were somewhat less accurate than they might ordinarily be expected to be. Twenty-three of them flew downrange with nine successfully hitting targets. As soon as the first rockets were clear, the Arizonan soldiers launched a second wave. This second volley proved to be more accurate than the first, being fired against a number of static targets.

  The barrage of RPGs had brought the largely-unarmored convoy to a sudden stop as some soldiers began to disembark to attempt to render aid to the wounded and others were hesitantly formed up by their commanders in an attempt to hunt down whoever had fired upon the AUS soldiers.

  “Ok,” said Colonel Hull as he watched the affair from a distance, “Charlie One can go.”

  It had proven to be impossible for the Arizona State Guard to obtain real artillery, but mortars were another story altogether. A battery of 81mm mortars were arrayed on a nearby hill.

  “Charlie One, shot, over,” called out the mortar unit.

  “Shot, out,” replied Hull as he eyed the distance. The first mortar rounds landed and exploded without causing any deaths or injuries among the Loyalist troops, sailing a hundred feet beyond their improvised defensive position.

  “Splash, over,” called out Hull, who was serving as an artillery observer at the insistence of the Governor, who had wished to observe proceeding directly.

  “Splash, out,” called back Charlie One.

  “Adjust your fire,” said Hull, “you overshot by around one zero zero feet.”

  “The fuckers don’t know what we’ve got in store for them,” said Governor Schmidt.

  “Not hardly, Governor,” replied Colonel Hull.

  The second wave of mortar rounds impacted with greater accuracy, falling upon the confused soldiers one after another and exploding with what, from the distance the Governor and Colonel were keeping, sounded like a series of quick “pops.” Visually, however, it was much more impressive (or horrifying, depending on one’s view of such matters).

  One unlucky soldier was actually directly struck by one of the rounds, which exploded and sprayed what was left of him over anyone within a thirty foot radius. The other explosions were less spectacular but, nevertheless, deadly in their own way, sending shrapnel and debris flying about in great quantities and killing and wounding a score of additional soldiers.

  “Alright,” said the Governor, “let’s take in the technicals!”

  For this particular occasion Governor Schmidt had consented to wear a standard-issue helmut rather than his trademark hat. Given that he would be actually firing a machine gun, he reckoned, there would be little risk of his appearance in the damnable thing generating a Dukakis moment.

  Half a dozen hastily up-armored pickup trucks were positioned along a hill just a mile away from the position held by the AUS convoy moving down the I-8. Using every bit of power their V-8 engines could output, combined with the favourable momentum granted by the downward slope of the hill, the modified Fords were able to rapidly accelerate to nearly eighty miles an hour.

  “Yee-haw!” screamed the Governor as the trucks raced towards the convoy. He pulled the trigger of the jury-rigged M-60 strapped down to the back of the truck and let loose a long stream of bullets and tracers in the direction of the Loyalist soldiers. He watched as one of the bullets struck a soldier in the throat. The young man grasped his neck and collapsed to the ground.

  “Eat it, Motherfucker!” shouted Governor Schmidt as the truck continued its rapid pass. He held down the trigger of the M-60 and fired at the soldiers for a second time. In his peripheral vision the Governor spotted one of the Loyalist infantrymen rushing for cover and attempting to raise his rifle to fire upon him. In response to this he swung the machine gun as far to the right as it possibly could and opened fire again, letting loose another long steam of 7.62x51mm bullets. At least one of the rounds managed to catch the soldier in the shoulder, sending him falling to the ground.

  The truck began to speed off, forcing the Governor to swing the M-60 to the rear. As his and the rest of the trucks began to retreat, he and the other rear gunners continued to fire off more rounds at the smashed convoy.

  U.S. Senate, Temporary Seat of the Government of the United States, Colorado Springs, CO

  “…the tragic fighting along multiple fronts appears endless,” explained Senator Mitchell Randall, “and, given this - and given the lack of any coherent plan from the Administration or, anyone, frankly to end this war short of unrestricted and unlimited bloodshed, I maintain, Mr. President, that we must make the frank admission that the Union of the States cannot be restored by force alone. Yes, force was required - and fully justified - to defend our rights against intrusion, but can force be justified to coerce those into supporting our aims who otherwise would not?”

  “I put it to you, Mr. President, that there is nothing to gain in our being the aggressors. Let us suppose that one or another of these rumored offensives proves to be a success. What does that gain us? Will we have to reconquer one of our great cities, in the face of massive resistance, in a block-by-block battle? What would the casualties involved in such an undertaking be?”

  “The time has come for us to negotiate from a position of strength. Given this, I call upon the Senate to adopt the resolution that had been laid before it calling for the appointment of a special commission to negotiate with Washington. I yield the floor.”

  “The Senator from Georgia is recognized,” said the presiding officer as soon as Randall sat down.

  “Mr. President,” began Senator Quentin Robertson, “with all of the respect that is due to a gentlemen of such standing as my colleague from Washington, I have to say that I would strain to think of a worse course along which we might proceed than that which has been proposed by the Senator from Washington and his supporters.”

  “What the Senator and the other conciliators have proposed today and on other recent days is that we should try and negotiate some sort of deal with the tyrant in Washington. But, Mr. President, we entered this war because we believed that the government in Washington had become tyrannical. Is the Senator from Washington’s position that we ought to find some halfway point between liberty and tyranny?”

  “Mr. President,” responded Senator Randall, “I believe - as do millions of other Americans - that there has to be some alternative to endless killing. We believe that there has to be a middle ground between extremists such as President Bryan on one side and Governor Schmidt on the other…”

  “Mr. President!” shouted Senator Robertson, practically leaping from his chair, “down in Georgia we consider Governor Schmidt to be a great patriot and I believe that it is incredibly insulting to hear him compared to Mr. Bryan in such a forum…”

  “The Senator from Georgia and his millions of supporters are, of course, entitled to their opinions,” replied Randall, “but the reality is that the majority of the nation - on both sides of this artificial border that we have created - recognizes that, despite all
that has happened, we share more in common that keeps us apart.”

  “I stood up, at great risk to myself and at great cost to my state, because I believed that the Federal Government as it was in Washington represented a severe threat to the American people. However, I would argue that attempts to radicalize the government - to write these radical amendments into the Constitution and then to make them pre-conditions for peace - are only practical if we choose to wage a total war, something that the American people emphatically do not support and certainly have not voted for.”

  “Let us restore the Union as it was. Better, with a people and a government chastened by this experience. But let us not attempt to substitute one form of radicalism for another. Enough blood has been shed for the sake of politics already.”

  The White House, Washington, DC

  “The offensive that we’ve launched have yet to meet serious resistance from regular forces,” noted General Hall as he briefed President Bryan.

  “We’ve sustained an awful lot of casualties already,” said the President as he looked through the paperwork on his desk, “nearly a thousand dead and the same number of wounded. I’d hate to see what the results would be like if they met the sort of resistance that you’d describe as serious, General.”

  “You have to remember, Mr. President, that what we have here is essentially a very large light infantry force moving on mostly-improvised transportation. In particular, we’ve seen some pretty serious losses during the course of actually moving these forces from location to location. In fact, even though we’ve seen AUS forces move into Arizona, Virginia, Michigan, and into Eastern Washington so far, more than half of the losses that have occurred have been in Arizona.”

  “Inflicted,” said the President bitterly, “by that racist nut of a Governor and his forces.”

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. President. His forces - the so-called Arizona State Guard - are probably the best of the irregular forces that have been mustered against us and they’ve been hitting us with hit-and-run attacks along the interstate as our forces are moving from point to point.”

  “Fuckers,” said the President, “there’s got to be something that we can do about that bullshit.”

  “Well, Mr. President,” replied Hall, “we’ve held back our regular forces - limited as they are - from this attack because we’re going to need them to counter their main forces when they launch their all-out offensive.”

  “Couldn’t we try and throw the Army of the United States against them?” asked the President.

  “The soldiers of the AUS, such as we have available, are best-suited for fighting from fixed positions, Mr. President. They’re barely trained. They’re not designed to launch attacks. Certainly not at the tactical level. Strategic offensive, tactical defensive. That’s how this thing can be made to work.”

  “But they could attack if ordered, couldn’t they?”

  “They’re soldiers, Mr. President. They will follow orders. But the orders that we issue them ought to be wise ones.”

  “I’ll be the judge of the wisdom of my orders, General,” replied the President sharply.

  BBC Studios, London, United Kingdom

  “…this government simply doesn’t know which way to turn,” exclaimed Alexander Amery, the Leader of the United Kingdom Independence Party, “they continue to get deeply embroiled the shameful events going on in America today - tying us to a legacy government that is plainly doomed - while at the same time placing even-deeper into the clutches of incompetent Eurocrats over in Brussels.”

  “They have no plan for Britain and no serious agenda for the future. The latest figures show that the economy of Britain contracted last year by nearly three percent - that’s three percent in real terms, Shawn. What do they offer in response to that? Yet more taxation, more spending, and more decrees from the EU.”

  “And yet, throughout this, the government has done nothing to stem the tide of millions of people flowing into this country from the rest of Europe. During the course of the present crisis - a crisis that has now spanned nearly two full years - this government has allowed two million people to settle here in Britain. In other words, about one in thirty-five people in Britain today have come here from the rest of Europe in the last two years alone, without any controls or any say given to the British people.”

  “Surely you cannot mean, Mr. Amery,” said the host, “that in the face of unprecedented - at least in our own lifetimes - economic distress in Europe that we ought to close the borders of this country to those in such a state of suffering?”

  “That is what I mean, Shawn. These are difficult times and, in times of troubles, governments and nations have to make choices. Sometimes these choices are hard. That is why we must choose the very best people to be in government. Yet, that is emphatically not what we have before us today. And that is what a Conservative-UKIP government is committed to bring to the table. Let us take back control of Britain before it is too late.”

  Minutes later, Amery stepped out of the building and was heading towards his vehicle when a man approached him in a suit.

  “Excuse me, sir?” said the man.

  “Sorry, I’m rather late for another engagement,” replied Amery.

  “No,” said the man, “I’m afraid that you’re going to have to come with me. I’m Detective Chief Superintendent Stiles, London Metropolitan Police. I am placing you under arrest on charges of incitement to racial hatred.”

  “Oh, really?” said Amery, looking directly at the detective, “fuck off.”

  “Please come with me, sir,” said the Stiles as he signalled two uniformed policeman nearby to cuff Amery.

  The Pentagon, Arlington, Virginia

  When General Hall arrived back at his office, Secretary Ransom was waiting for him.

  “I gather that the meeting with the President was less-than-great, General,” said the Secretary from his chair.

  “You heard that?” asked Hall.

  “I have plenty of friends all over Washington,” said the Secretary flatly.

  “Yes,” replied Hall, “I’d figured that. Well, they’re right - your friends, I mean. The President wants to hurl the Army of the United States against the Rebels immediately, and they’re just not fully ready for it.”

  “That’s not what everyone in the Pentagon thinks,” said Ransom.

  “Including yourself?”

  “No,” said Ransom, “I made about the same argument to the President as yourself. But he didn’t listen. He has plenty of friends here who will give him contrary advice, you know.”

  “So I had observed.”

  “Perhaps, then, we should do something about it,” said Ransom.

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Hall.

  “Perhaps some of the more radical officers, here in the Pentagon and elsewhere - especially those with distinctly progressive opinions who have advanced greatly during this conflict and whose emotions are outrunning their military judgement - ought to be moved to places where they’d have less direct influence.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, we could always promote them and place them in command of auxiliary points throughout the country. Put them at Raven Rock and places like that. Give them fancy-sounding titles - and higher ranks - and get them the heck out of the Pentagon where they can make trouble.”

  “Like I’ve said before, Mr. Secretary,” said Hall, “I don’t want to get into the political game. That’s part of how the country ended up in this mess in the first place.”

  “We’re all already playing the political game, General, whether we like it or not. That’s simply part of life these days. You have to decide if you want to win or lose.”

  The General sighed deeply.

  “Send me the list."

  Near Welton, Arizona

  Private Dave Edmonds gripped his rifle tightly. Unlike most of the rest of his platoon, he had at least some formal experience, having served previously in the old U.S. Army and then taking a job, as he
euphemistically put it when asked, in “law enforcement.” That had, of course, been prior to his disgrace.

  Most of them wanted to be touched like that, whatever they said later and at the trial, he insisted softly to himself as he often did. He was part of the so-called “second wave” of recruits for the Army of the United States, once the pool of illegal aliens and non-violent drug offenders had been drained finding additional recruits had required the New Army to reach a little bit deeper, issuing waivers to other non-violent offenders on a one-off basis.

  “Come on Grandpa!” the Platoon Sargent shouted at the thirty-four year-old Private as he climbed onboard the helicopter.

  As he wiped his brow under the sweltering Arizona sun, Private Edmonds reflected on the genuine strangeness of life. Just three months earlier he’d been looking at spending at least another five years in prison and then spending the rest of his life living a furtive existence, always having to register where he lived and to remind every one of his neighbors as to just who he was and what he had done. Now, however, the government promised to undo all of that.

  Despite his relatively advanced age, Edmonds had excelled in basic training. He was, after all, in excellent shape given all of the time he’d had to work out during his time in prison and he was notably determined to acquit himself well in this endeavour. Along with a number of other recruits he’d been picked out and given special training in conducting air mobility operations.

  It serves the Republicans right, he thought. Like the overwhelming majority of felons and civilian government employees he was, quite naturally, a Democrat and had been even before he went to prison. The prison-industrial complex is coming to bite their asses, he reflected as the rest of his platoon manoeuvred to attack.

  Frankly, he was surprised that the idea had taken so long to congeal in anyone’s head. The advocates of the Rebellion were - both in previous days and now - fond of pointing out that a majority of the military and a majority of gun-owners were inclined towards the Republican Party and, therefore, any civil war would be a short thing. Most of them, it had seemed, had singularly failed to consider the fact that they’d taken millions of young men - most of them in their physical prime - and left them brutalized and eager for revenge against pretty much anyone.