The state of TIAH
December 3rd, 2006
Alternate Historian's Note: Welcome back! We are, once again, home at Blogger, obviously. We have great work from one of our Guest Historians, Stephen Payne (who has a little something on Lulu he'd like you to look at), as well as the continuation of our novel from NaNoWriMo. Thanks for hanging with us while we were exiled to Wordpress for the last week. Wordpress, by the way, is a sweet blogging site that we can highly recommend. For now, though, on with TIAH's triumphant return!
in 0, hope springs eternal for Mullah Elijah Rafsanjani; he really is starting to feel more positive about the future. Of course his future is further forward than it was when he left Doha, Qatar two days ago. The solution to his problems are a great deal closer than he had previously thought. What foolishness to toy with europeans such as Bush, Cook, Lawrence and Columbus -they were just accessories to the real crime! This would be where the mother of all battles would be fought - the Arab town of Bayt La 2127 years before. The House of Meat as it was appropriately known to the infidels: Bethlehem. Christmas was about to be cancelled. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-
in 1872, on board the Dei Gratia, Captain Morehouse dreams that he is dining with Captain Briggs back in New York City. As they are discussing the checkered history of the Marie Celeste, Briggs is transmogrifying into a goat. He keeps trying to interrupt Briggs to warn him, but cannot interject. Finally, Briggs is just making goat noises. Morehouse wakes up screaming. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-
in 1941, Generalissimos Maurice Gamelin and Maxime Weygand meet with President Philippe Pétain in the Élysée Palace. Unable to immediately resupply de Gaulle because of the destruction of the French Mediterranean Fleet anchored at Mers-el-Kébir they must deliver reinforcements, fuel, rations and other resources no later than the first week of the new year or La Grande Armée Afrique will be paralysed. The limited options are reviewed and a decision is reached based on the Carthaginian route taken by Hannibal in the Second Punic War c220 BC. The plan is for a Franco-German expeditionary force to march across neutral Spain, smash through Gibraltar and onwards to Algiers. First Pétain will telephone Juan Negrín López in Madrid and impress the threat to Spanish Morocco upon the President. Perhaps he will permit a corridor for the Armée to pass through, or even join forces within a new Catholic alliance in the twentieth century. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-
in 1944, San Francisco Bay the final Anzac refugees are welcomed to safety by Supreme Commander of Homeland Security General Douglas McArthur. The only Europeans now left in south-east Asia are the Empire of Japan's prisoners of war. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-
“It is too dang cold to be doin' this,” Kevin grumbled at Sergeant Morris as they put on their hazmat suits. They had stopped about twenty miles south of Waco, and the air was quite chilly. The fog of their breath spread out in front of them as they struggled their way into the unwieldy protective clothing.
“Look at it this way, Bradley – it'll be a lot warmer inside the suit.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Kevin pulled the headgear on and zippered it all shut, then started up the air pump on his back. “We have to recharge every 3 hours, right?”
“3 and a half,” Morris said. “Just remember to get back to the jeep in that time, and you'll be OK.” He pointed at the recharge unit. “You still remember how to use that thing, right?”
Kevin pulled a cable from the back of his suit and pointed it at the unit. “This goes in there, I wait till the readout tells me I'm fully charged, then I unplug and work for another 3 and a half hours.”
“Outstanding,” Morris said, zippering his own gear and climbing back into the jeep. He flipped on the Geiger counter that was nestled between the seats, and it read only a slightly elevated level of background radiation. “All right, looks like we're still in a safe area. Keep an eye on that as we get closer to ground zero; the suits have an upper limit of radiation they can protect us from.”
“Good to know,” Kevin said, climbing into the front seat of the jeep. He looked down at the Geiger counter and saw its reading climbing slowly but steadily upward as they approached Waco. “What if we hit the upper limit before we get to the target?”
“We turn around and tell 'em they're gonna have to wait a couple of days. I ain't dyin' for meteorological information.”
“Good. I didn't want to have to carry your radioactive butt around Waco cuz you thought the mission was more important than our lives.” They laughed. “I wonder if us figuring that out isn't part of the mission, too.”
“Could be. Two birds, one stone, and all that.”
They drove in silence for several minutes, as Kevin watched the Geiger counter tick its way up into dangerous territory. There was a red line that indicated that next to the arm inside the dial; the arm was maybe a quarter-inch away from it now. “I wonder why we don't have a digital readout on these things.”
“More mechanical and less electronic they keep it, the less susceptible it is to an EMP,” Morris said.
“Good explanation. They teach you that, or did you just make it up?”
“Figured it out on my own,” Morris said, smirking. “I mean, what does an EMP fry? Electrical equipment, right? So, if you wanna have something take the hit and keep on workin', you got to keep it mechanical.”
“Good thinkin', Sergeant,” Kevin said. He looked up from the meter and saw that they were approaching a roadblock. Like themselves, the Guard members were in hazmat suits.
Sergeant Morris pulled up to the truck blocking the road and pulled out his orders. “We're headin' into Waco on orders for information retrieval,” he told the soldier who took the papers from him. “Much as I don't wanna.”
“I heard that, Sergeant,” the soldier said. “Let me just get my corporal's OK, and we'll move the truck out of your way.” He saluted, Morris returned it, and then he walked off.
Kevin looked at the Waco skyline. The tallest building in the distance was probably their target; the meteorology building on the A&M campus in his home town was the tallest building in the area, too. He relaxed and tried to think of himself on the beach in Maui the day after this was all over.
“All right, Bradley, here we go.” The truck blocking the road was moving out of their way. The private returned with Morris' papers. They saluted each other again and Morris set off down the road into Waco.
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