[h3]1938[/h3] [b]Gulf of Mexico[/b] Robert Baker knew today was the day he would die. He and eleven other men stood in the landing craft as it rocked against the choppy waves, all of them dressed in full combat gear and rifles over their shoulders. The artillery guns of a destroyer boomed off in the distance. A pair of NEWI Jackrabbits roared overhead, low and fast and on a course to cause havoc on the beaches of Galveston. The plan was somebody up at the top’s idea of bold. While the Southern armies fortified all along the Mason-Dixon Line, the US would catch them with their pants down by invading the largest state in the Southern United States and push through to establish a beachhead in Houston. Houston was less than three hundred miles away from the SUSA’s seat of power in Baton Rouge. Home by Christmas, they had promised. Baker thought that was a load of horseshit. At thirty-one, he was the oldest man in his company by almost five years. Even Lieutenant Terkanian was only twenty-three. The only person close to his age was Major Grice at Battalion HQ. Men Baker’s age were either officers or support staff and not company sergeants. The few in infantry weren’t on the front lines, in one of the first boats on the beach. But Bob Baker wasn’t like the typical army grunt. He was a teacher before all this. History and English Comp in Hamilton, Ohio. He’d read all the anti-war lit that was written both during and after the Great War, read up on the war. Baker was a student of history, and he knew an assault on this scale had been tried once before. Gallipoli. Allied troops came off boats and right into machine gun fire. There was a chance it wouldn’t be like that, but Baker knew enough about the army to know that they factored thousands of casualties as the price of doing business. A squadron of a dozen NEWI Big Sticks all flew in formation above them. Most of the time, the sight of the big bombers inspired whoops and cheers from the enlisted men. But now, none of them responded at the sight of the powder blue bombers with the USAAF star on their tails. Every man, Brewer included, was too busy with their thoughts to muster any enthusiasm. "We're a minute out," the pilot of the landing craft announced. Baker inhaled and exhaled slowly. He was already dead, he reminded himself. He died the second he signed those enlistment papers in Ohio. If he died today or tomorrow or any day after that, then it would be a simple [i]fait accompli.[/i] "Thirty seconds!" The sound of machine gun fire erupted from somewhere close. An explosion rocked the landing craft. Baker leaned against the walls of the craft to steady himself. He slung his rifle off his shoulder and held it tight. Another Jackrabbit appeared overhead, its guns firing at the now close beach. "Ten seconds!" "Keep moving," Terkanian shouted from the front of the craft. "No matter how bad it is, we keep moving. More men are coming behind us. If we end up stalled on the beach, then we're easy picking for the rebs. I'll see all you on the other side." The giant door of the craft swung open and landed in the shallow waters of Galveston beach. Gunfire burst through the early morning light as Baker and the men pushed out of the craft and on to the beach. He almost tripped on the way out. He caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Terkanian on the ground, half his face destroyed by bullets. A half dozen fortified machine gun nests at the edge of the beach was the welcome committee for the army. A Big Stick flew low, dropping a bomb right between two of the nests. Baker felt shrapnel and heat pepper his face as he ran towards the gunfire. Keep moving, his now dead lieutenant had said. If you stay still, you die. --- [h3]Now[/h3] [b]Boulder, Colorado 10:23 PM[/b] "Keep moving," Ohio Governor Robert Baker said softly. "That was the key to survival that day on the beaches of Galveston, and that is the key to American prosperity." Baker looked out at the crowd of people watching him with rapt attention. The trip through Colorado was the Baker campaign's first big test of national support. His war time service was well documented and Colorado held many scars from the war. Things like what happened to Denver would never be forgotten. On top of that, it was the president's home state. And while Baker was Republican, the large turnout at all of his rallies instilled confidence in him heading into the convention this summer. "We have become stagnant in the past four years, under the leadership of the current administration. They are hampered by corruption, incompetence, and indecision. We've stopped moving forward. It's time for a change, ladies and gentlemen. My six years as governor Ohio has proven I am up to handling the role of executive, that I know the challenges that come with the position and am capable of meeting them head on. No state has grown like Ohio has. While the country as a whole has spun its wheels, Ohio has moved forward. And if you can help me make it to Washington, I'll see the rest of the country catches up and together we all move forward. Thank you." The crowd cheered wildly. A rolling wave from the back started forward until every person was standing and applauding. Baker stepped out from behind the podium. He limped on his false left leg as he waved and smiled. The crowd went even crazier when they noticed the limp. This kind of response in the state Michael Norman was born and raised in? Baker had very little doubt that come November, he'd bury the president in a landslide.