Two Eagles and a Rising Sun: A Three Nation ISOT

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Additional Isolated and Stranded Military Units.

Macon County, Georgia: 369th Infantry Regiment, circa 1918. 1st and 2nd Military Police Battalion, USMC, circa 2020.

Ottawa County: Marine Anti Terrorism Battalion, circa 2012.

New York City, New York: 27th Infantry Division, circa 1918.

Baltimore, Maryland: All Federal and National Guard troops called up during the 1968 riots. 10,956 total.

Chicago, Illinois: 6,700 soldiers of the Illinois National Guard, circa 1968.

Kansas City, Missouri: 2,900 members of the Missouri National Guard, circa 1968.

Selfridge Field, Michigan: 8,000 Michigan National Guardsmen, 360 Michigan State Troopers, circa 1967.

Fort Knox, Kentucky: 700 Kentucky National Guardsmen, circa 1968.

Wilmington, Delaware: 2,800 Delaware National Guardsmen, circa 1968.

Avondale, Ohio: 1,500 Ohio National Guardsmen, circa 1968.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: 3,600 Pennsylvania National Guardsmen.

Washington DC: American Expeditionary Corps Tank Force, circa 1918. All Federal and National Guard troops present during the 1968 D.C. Riots, including members of the 3rd Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, and 6th Cavalry Regiment.

Reno, Nevada: Air Force One VC-137C SAM 27000, Specifications Circa 1990: Reno International Airport. Included are supporting crews and several dozen Secret Service Agents.

Asheville, North Carolina: 4th Maneuver Enhancement Brigade, circa 2014. 170th and 172nd Infantry Brigades, circa 2012. 3rd and 4th Military Police Battalions, USMC, circa 2020.

Hidalgo County, New Mexico: 166th Infantry Regiment, circa 1990. 507th Maintenance Company, circa 2003.

Webb County, Texas: 3rd Brigade of the 24th Infantry Division, circa 1991.

South Dakota-Iowa Border: 7th Cavalry Regiment under Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer, circa 1876.

South Dakota: Task Force 1-41 Infantry, circa 1991. 6th Infantry Division, circa 1991.

Duluth, Minnesota: American Expeditionary Forces North Russia, circa 1919.

Upper Peninsula: 216th Air Defence Artillery, Battery D, circa 1991. 109th Military Intelligence Battalion, circa 2014.

Beaufort County, South Carolina: 1st and 2nd Brigades, 24th Infantry Division, circa 1991.

St.Petersburg, Florida: 11th and 198th Infantry Brigades, circa 1971. 196th Infantry Brigade, circa 1972. 123rd Aviation Regiment, circa 1968.

Miami, Florida: 3,500 Florida National Guardsmen, circa 1980.

Boise, Idaho: 14,000 California National Guardsmen, circa 1965.

Salt Lake City, Utah: Joint Task Force Los Angeles, circa 1992.

West Virginia:
Berlin Brigade, circa 1989

92nd Field Artillery Regiment
1st Battalion, circa 1991
2nd Battalion, circa 1988
3rd Tank Battalion, circa 1991

Northern Nevada: 92nd Field Artillery Regiment
3rd Battalion, circa 1996
4th Battalion, circa 1993

Fort Chaffee: 92nd Field Artillery Regiment, 5th Battalion, circa 2003.

Fort Myer, Virginia: 92nd Field Artillery Regiment, 6th Battalion, circa 1972. 2,500 Federal troops from the Battle of Blair Mountain. Task Force Smith, circa 1950.

Jackson, Mississippi: Mississippi Army National Guard, circa 1968.

Philippines: 4th Marine Regiment, circa 1941. 192nd and 194th tank battalions, circa 1941. 17th Ordnance Battalion, circa 1941. 26th Cavalry Regiment, circa 1941. Clark Air Field, with the entirety of the FEAF. All American servicemen who have died in the Philippines since 1898.

Cuba: All American servicemen who have died in Cuba since 1898.
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Naval Assets off the Coast of New York City:
Bogue Class Escort Carrier USS Block Island, 1944 specifications.
USS Langley, 1934 specifications.
USS Arizona, 1934 specifications.
Clemson Class Destroyer USS Greer, 1942 specifications.
Gleaves Class Destroyer USS Turner, 1944 specifications.
Edsall Class Destroyer Escort USS Frederick C. Davis, 1945 specifications.
Q-Ship USS Atik, 1942 specifications.
HMS Avenger, 1942 specifications.
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Mediterranean, Persian Gulf, and Pacific:

USS Pueblo, 1967 specifications.

USS Liberty, 1967 specifications.

Oliver Hazard Perry Class Frigate USS Stark, 1987 specifications.

Oliver Hazard Perry Class Frigate USS Samuel B. Roberts, 1988 specifications.

Ticonderoga Class Destroyer USS Princeton, 1991 specifications.

Arleigh Burke Class Destroyer USS Cole, 2000 specifications.

Charles F. Adam's Class Guided Missile Destroyers USS Waddell and Conyngham, 1987 specifications.

Yellowstone Class Destroyer Tender USS Acadia, 1987 specifications.

Mars Class Combat Stores Ship USS San Jose, 1988 specifications.

Marlin Class Heavy Lift Ship MV Blue Merlin, 2000 specifications.

Heavy Lift Ship Mighty Servant 2
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Atlantic and Gulf Coasts:
Six Hamilton Class Cutters, FRAM Specifications, circa 1990.
USCGC Hamilton, Dallas, Chase, Sherman, Morgenthau, and Jarvis.
Reliance Class Cutters:
USCGC Courageous and Durable, circa 2001.
USCGC Decisive, circa 2022.
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Alaska: USCGC Acushnet, circa 2008.
USCGC Storis, circa 2006.
USCGC Tamaroa, circa 1991.
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Palmer Station, Antarctica, circa 2024:
R/V Laurence M. Gould, circa 2024.
RV Polar Duke, circa 1996.
USCGC Mackinaw, circa 2005.
USCGC Glacier, circa 1980.
Wind Class Icebreaker USCGC Westwind and Northwind, circa 1988.

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.
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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?"

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.