Chapter 48

Minutes later...
Saturday, 26 April, 2014
Roanoke, Virginia

“Well, they control Williamsburg and Newport News now, but the Virginia Naval Defense Force has managed to contain them at the moment. They won’t be allowed to expand much beyond that point. We want them to have access to the Atlantic shore long enough to pull in more Nazis from around the world. We have to get them to fall into the trap, after all. There will be a sort of ‘Brown Belt,’ if you will, Nazi-controlled territory that is under Eckart’s sway.

“He has to be allowed to grow a bit greedy and cocky before he is cut down to size. We also have to evacuate some more refugees so that not too many innocent civilians are sacrificed like lambs on the altar of victory. Minorities are especially threatened by his advance, of course. He has made no secret of his views about them or about Jews, for that matter.

“At the moment, his next target is a city called Poquoson. Once he controls that, he’ll have a much easier time bringing in recruits, of course. Which is why we’re only fighting there as long as it takes to evacuate possible victims of his hate. When he has a clear path to bring in the maximum number of these goose steppers from around the world, we can close the jaws of our steel trap on him, I trust,” Austin expressed his own ideas about how to crush the Nazi menace once and for all.

“So, now the first ever English colonies in the New World are held by those Old World pricks. Figures. So be it ... for now. But when these places are liberated, do me a favor. Hold a fucking exorcism or something to remove the spirit or essence or whatever of the Nazi pricks from those places forever, so that it doesn’t haunt the shit out of whoever lives there next. Whoever inherits the place. Kill it. Kill it with fire,” I honestly begrudged Eckart the possession of those oldest settlements in America.

Nevertheless, it was an indignity that we would have to endure ... for now. Sometimes, these things had to be accepted as a temporary necessity, but that didn’t mean that we had to like it. I hated it with a passion and no doubt, Austin did so even more than I did, since he wasn’t a white dude like me, and as such, was marked for death by the likes of Forrest Turner Eckart. God, what a prick, to name himself after Nazi ideologue Dietrich Eckart, Earl Turner from The Turner Diaries, and Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest, legendary founder/organizer of the Ku Klux Klan!

“Indeed, but for now, we do what we must,” another voice spoke, namely that of City Council Chairman Davis Lakeshore.

“Very much so, but we don’t have to meekly accept it. We endure for now, but we don’t to accept it forever,” Austin sternly reminded him.

“Quite true,” I agreed with the young Prophet, “in the meantime, let’s take a look at the current defenses of Roanoke. How well fortified are we, in fact?”

“Well, we have a start on it, for sure, and as we get more people, we’ll have more troops to man the ramparts, so to speak. We could always use more manpower, no doubt of that. We lost a good third of our population, as you know, but we’re busy refilling those gaps by adding as many refugees choose to settle here. And giving them a rifle and a spade for when they need to dig and to patrol. Everyone needs to be ready to fight, just in case,” Austin asserted, “yes, including yours truly.”

“Very true, no doubt of that. How well-trained are your soldiers, if we’re being honest here?” Jerry interjected now, understandably worried about that detail.

“Uneven, of course. A healthy mix of veterans, of course, who are leading the way in that sense, but also plenty of cops and civilians. The cops are obviously better at this than the civilians, but even the last category is motivated to learn and take their turns at the shooting range, obstacle course, etc. Your addition here is a literal Godsend, naturally. I say that because, well, God sent you guys here,” Austin acknowledged that I was indeed on a mission from God.

“Well, I will need to inspect the various perimeters, fortifications, and so forth, of course, to get a better idea of where we are, versus where we need to be. Any flaws or failures should not be grounds for self-reproach. You’re a Prophet, yes, but you’re also a very young fellow who has had leadership, power, command, and responsibility thrust upon his shoulders. Mistakes are to be expected. Even with an angelic father, you’re still human,” I recalled, “trust me, I’ve fucked up a few times myself, no doubt of that.”

“True, my dear, but you’ve done very well for us all over time. But, yes, our man here is a great man, but he’s still a man. He’s still flesh and blood. Errors in judgment happen, even with good advice and counsel and that jazz. That goes especially in matters so complex and intricate as military defense, logistics, tactics, planning, etc. If a veteran like Adam here could goof up at times, so can you, so don’t kick yourself at all about it,” Kelly reassured us.

“What she said,” Kylie was briefer and more laconic, “shit gets fucked up at times. It’s just SNAFU, if you want the military jargon. As in, ‘Situation Normal All Fucked Up.’ Though this apocalypse business is more like FUBAR. You know, ‘Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.’ Does that make sense? I know that the universe doesn’t, at least not right now.”

“What we really need is a proper ring of defenses, bunkers, fortifications, trenches, and the like. We need a true line of defense, a real perimeter, Great War style, if you will. We need snipers, guard towers, traps, animal pits, even minefields, sad to say. I feel awful for anyone innocent likely to be killed or maimed by the land mines that we put in place now, but it’s absolutely essential that we mine key areas. We need every fucking advantage we can get,” I laid out my proposals for the defense of Roanoke and other free cities of Virginia.

“You’re talking about a lot more than Roanoke itself, I take it. And a lot more than sandbags and machine gun nests. I’ve read about something called ‘pillboxes.’ Is that part of this jigsaw puzzle, if you will? What else? I want a better scope of what is called for here, man,” Austin listened very closely to my advice.

“Yes, a helluva lot more than just Roanoke, and yes, hell, yes, to the pillboxes. We need Claymore mines, flamethrowers, proper land mines, bayonet training for close quarters combat, knife training and martial-arts for the same, sniper training for those intended for that specialty, frogmen to operate in the deeper waters, engineers working very hard on both building pontoon bridges and also on detonating them when necessary.

“We need dynamite, TNT, nitroglycerine, and other tools for detonating whatever needs to be detonated, so that we can sacrifice whatever buildings must be sacrificed to destroy the foe. We need forward observers, the heaviest guns possible, rockets if we can get our hands on them, certainly at least howitzers, railway guns if at all feasible, mortars for sure, RPGs with small units of anti-tank crews, whatever armored units we can muster, and if at all conceivable, some airborne and special operations troops.