“It is with a heavy heart that I sign of this speech with a regret, a regret that we could not win this war but at least I take away the knowledge that we fought bravely against the odds and now as this period of change begins I can only hope you adapt to it as best as you can.” The general sighed. “This is General Westmoreland resigning from his post and signing off, god bless America.”
The camera cut from the tired man’s face and switched to that of a joyful General Sporrenberg. Even as Westmoreland was being led away by the Aryan guards, Sporrenberg took his seat at the president’s desk’ a large swastika hung from the wall and dominated the background.
Jakob Sporrenberg sat and clasped his hands together; he took a deep breath and paused while he stared into the camera.
“Congratulations America, you fought well, bravely and honorably. I would have expected nothing less from this great nation. But now the winds of change have come to blow clean your stagnating Country.”
He leaned back. “After World War Two you rested on your laurels, you got weak and complacent as your forces managed to win the Korean War but you let your defenses down and now your Country belongs to us.”
“You will not enjoy the changes that are coming and at first you may despair but eventually you will see that the Master race will be where it belongs. Ruling the greatest country, the world will have ever known.”
Sporrenberg smiled, “Welcome to the Fourth Reich, but this time we will rule for at least a thousand years. Together we will make this land a utopia for the master race.” Sporrenberg’s smile turned into a contorted grin, “But don’t worry if you are not one of the elite, we will still find a place for you.
You can still have a role in our nation’s future.”
“The time for fighting is over. It is now time to pledge your allegiance not to a flag but to your new Führer. Heil Sporrenberg.”
Viewers from across the globe could barely believe what they were hearing, the United States did not exist anymore. And a madman has proclaimed himself the undisputed leader.
“My fellow Aryan’s rejoice in the new world order we are creating, we are the new superpower of this world and in time every nation will be bowing down in awe of our majestic power.”
Führer Sporrenberg raised his hand in the identical salute that Hitler used to greet his followers.
Sporreberg smiled intently at the camera, “Heil…”
A streak of purple flashed across the screen, Sporrenberg was cut off mid sentence as seconds later his brains were blown clean out the side of his head. The light faded quickly from his eyes and he slumped back in his chair.
A man walked into the shot from the right and he marched over to the Nazi flag on the back wall, he forcefully pulled the flag from the wall and proceeded to cover Sporrenberg’s lifeless body with it.
The man gently patted Sporrnberg’s covered head before he walked over to the camera. He stared into the camera for a good minute. His cold calculating, ice blue eyes sent shivers down the spine of all that were watching.
The camera was shoved to the floor and then seconds later the whole screen went dark.
Atlantic Convoy
William Morgan Morris sat at his friends beside in stunned disbelief, what had he just witnessed. He had seen his country throw the towel in during the fight, the fight for their very existence and then the newly proclaimed leader of the United States had been assassinated by his advisor, live on television.
The side listed slightly to port as another large wave battered it. The gigantic aircraft carrier was thirty miles off the coast of Washington in the center of a huge convoy. The ships were mainly destroyers with a plethora of support vessels and five aircraft carriers.
The fleet was made up of injured troops and surviving forces that had managed to escape before the capital was encircled. They vessels were making their way across the great ocean to the United Kingdom where they planned to regroup.
William Morris sighed as he looked down into his best mates face. Brooklyn Jnr had been unconscious for three days now after his Phantom had been shot down by an enemy fighter. Brooklyn had taken the brunt of the impact and doctors did not know if he would ever recover.
Moose had found Brooklyn unconscious, tangled in his parachute. The radar operator had dragged his friend back through the deserted countryside until he came across a retreating US armored task force.
They had hitched a ride back to Washington where they were treated by medical staff in a field hospital. Moose had managed to grab a ride out of the doomed city on one of the last transport helicopters before all of the air support had been destroyed.
“If only you knew what has happened to us, if there were more people like you then we would still be fighting this war.” Morris grabbed a damp cloth from the bowl next to the bed and wiped Brooklyn’s temple.
“Come on mate, I know you can hear me in there, we need you back. We need all the good men we can get.” Morris rested his head on his friend’s chest and gently listened to his heartbeat’ the rhythm and the steady rocking of the ship in the storm sent him into an uneasy sleep.
The head of the Navy Admiral Moorer was next in command now that Agnew was dead and Westmoreland signed the surrender document. The Admiral who was in his late fifties still smoked a pipe while on deck. He had contacted the United Kingdom to ask for assistance, which they had readily given.
Countries around the world started to communicate with each other in secret, most were too frightened to take any action but a few were willing to meet to discuss the future. Russia and China started the preparations for their commanders to meet in London with the British Prime Minister and the German Chancellor.
The meeting was set for five days’ time when the American’s forces had reached England, the leaders knew something must be done but they did not know if they had the strength or the resources to take on the fearsome new threat; secretly many did not think they would be brave enough to even try.
Source of Power
The sun rose slowly over the fog-filled city, the day after the United States surrender was surreal for many of their citizens. They were rounded up by large forces of Aryan soldiers. Each person was summoned forth and was tested for their Nordic ancestry. Anyone who fell below the standard ninety five percent was taken out of line and held separately.
Armed forces personnel who surrendered without incident were not killed on sight, just like the late Jakob Sporrenberg had promised. They were given the same test as the rest of the population; anyone who was deemed not to be Nordic was put into separate transports.
The transports headed for Wright Patterson air force base. The old base was completely gone, what stood there in its place was hardly recognizable. The base was now a small city with large metallic buildings all across the center.
To the left of the main entrance was five tall buildings that looked like huge factories, to the side of these were smaller buildings that resembled flats. A huge fence ran around the border, it was fifteen-foot-tall with barbed wire all around the base and the top.
The right-hand side of the base was slightly friendly in its appearance; this was where the Nordic people were to be held. They were taken to slightly better accommodation than the non-Nordic population.
The former air force base now had three airfields, Me 262’s took off around the clock as they joined the larger bombers on their new missions. They were used to level any city that was still resisting.