At the end of the second year, after the war was over, a bank opened back up. Of course, paper money was still worthless despite the government trying to get it rolling again. The bank operated on coin. Everyone had some. A little gold from some jewelry or silver from decor or utensils. Metal smelters became a big business.
Silver and gold were in high demand, as you can imagine. People wanted to move, to get to their remaining family members, most of whom didn’t live close Things like that. The locals would help you, but once you started getting away from people you knew, it was harder to get help. Coin changed that. You could travel or get things if you had silver.
Again, I was lucky. When we pulled out for the mountains, I buried my gold and silver. (He laughs.) I couldn’t take it all with me and didn’t know if I could even use it. So, I took about a thousand dollars in coins and buried the rest. I never did use that silver during the war. No need.
How much gold and silver did you have?
About seventy thousand worth, pre-war value. A good bit of money, but not enough to buy the house I’d been trying for. After the war, it was a fortune, but I didn’t have much to spend it on. We had food, clothes, and electricity was coming back, but we didn’t have to pay for it at the time. We didn’t even know who to pay the bill to.
I bought my first piece of land around December, two years after the war. It was my neighbor. Guy’s name was Stan Michelin, and he had twenty acres that he used to lease out to a corporation that didn’t exist anymore. He told me that he needed to get to Texas to be with his son. He had found out his son survived the war and was desperate to get there. He asked if I wanted to buy his land. He told me a price, ten ounces of silver. I honestly had mixed feelings about buying it. I told him just to hang on because the price was bound to go back up, but he told me he didn’t care about the land. He just wanted to go. So I bought it with ten one-ounce silver coins that I paid about a hundred and fifty dollars for before Invasion Day.
That purchase was really what started it for me. Pretty soon, I was buying up land from defunct corporations all over the place. I didn’t pay as much for that land because I didn’t feel like I was screwing anyone. I always paid more from people, but I didn’t get most of my land that way. And I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the land, but I thought someone could always farm it. Yeah, it was great, but It also brought a lot of danger to my doorstep.
What do you mean?
Money! For two years, everyone got along, helped each other, and didn’t care about money. Then money popped up again, and people started to get mean. People in our community found out real quick where Stan got that silver from. That wasn’t a problem for the people I knew, but when they started talking, word spread, and soon we had to deal with thieves and people demanding I share the wealth. Most of those people demanding help weren’t even from my town and I didn’t know them from Adam.
Anyone that came to my door, I helped. I didn’t turn down one person who came to my house and asked for help. Hell, as I said, it was my family and friends who helped me survive, but as soon as strangers showed up demanding I give them gold or silver, well, that’s where I drew the line.
There have been some that say you’ve exploited the poor to get where you are.
Those people don’t know what they’re talking about. I began to offer all the farmland I had for sale to those who wanted to buy it. I also gave the option to those who didn’t want to own the land, to farm it for me for a percent. Ten percent! Never in the history of the U.S. will you find such a deal. My grandfather only kept a third of what he farmed. If farmers back then were fortunate, they would get half. With me, they kept ninety percent.
You find me two people, no, one person who isn’t happy with the deal they got from me, and I’ll pay for every interview you have in your book.
I didn’t take the deal
Joshua Wright
London, Canada
Brunson Grocery is a modest-sized, local supermarket. It’s sitting on Main Street in London, Canada, a growing city, south of destroyed Toronto. Joshua Wright was a pilot in a CH-146 Griffon helicopter during the Veech War.
Before Invasion Day, I lived not too far from here, near Niagra Falls. I gave people helicopter rides, tours, that kind of thing. I was single at the time, and plenty of single ladies came through there, so that part was nice. It was okay, you know, paid the bills, and I got to fly. Before that, I served in the RCAF for ten years flying a few different helicopters.
A few days after the bombings, I got a call from command. I was ordered to report to Canadian Forces Base Borden; I was ordered back into service. I was kind of expecting it but wasn’t sure I’d get the call. I mean, I was a helicopter pilot, and I saw what happened to those F-35 pilots. No helicopter pilot would survive those things. Then the Jhi showed up, and that changed everything for us.
The Veech pilots on the ground lost their orbital support, so those that were on the ground at the time of engagement with the Jhi stayed on the ground. They were cut off. Then began a five-year cat and mouse game with the abandoned Veech. The fighter jets, those that were left, kept those guys busy. They still couldn’t go toe to toe with them, but they did pretty well at stinging them and then taking off.
Our job – the 400 “City of Toronto” Air Reserve squadron, yeah, it’s a mouth full – was to support ground operations. I did that for almost five years and loved it.
Our main job was to offer aerial support for offensive maneuvers or help in defense engagements, whatever the situation called for really. We would usually show up, light up the Veech, then bug out when their air support showed up. (Laughs.) Toward the beginning, when there were still a lot of Veech interceptors to contend with, we were grounded, but little by little, their air support deteriorated, and we came out to play.
Like I said, I loved it. I got to be part of history, to make a difference, whether providing air support or search and rescue. The RCAF never put too many of the helicopters together at one time. We were sent out piecemeal, so if the Veech did catch up to us, our losses wouldn’t be crippling. I think after the battles of L.A. and D.C., the brass was scared of mass air battles. They weren’t the only ones. We had no desire to be part of that confusion.
Anyway, my Griffon, which is just a modern, souped-up Huey, was kept at a farm. (He laughs.) Funny, right? Me, my partner, our ground crew, and our bird stayed in an old barn. At night, we rolled it inside to keep it hidden and safe. Again, forced dispersal. It wasn’t too bad. Actually, the ground crew became like my family. We would fly a mission, come back, and barbecue what food we found scavenging, then we relaxed and told stories or played cards. Good times.
I know the war was horrible beyond words for so many people, but it was exciting for me. Don’t get me wrong… I… I lost a sister. Her whole family was gone in an instant. It’s just that… I was alive and living in the moment like I never have before or since. I know it might sound strange, but I miss it. I miss it a lot.
What did you do after the war?
As you can see (He holds out his hands and turns around slowly.), I’m the Brunson Grocery assistant manager. (Laughs.) I fought until the end of the war, then the government kept me on for another two years after that, doing rescue work and helping the locals fight some of the small tyrants that popped up everywhere. Then, little by little, we were replaced by the new shuttles. Helicopters became obsolete.