The Erie Campaign
We Have Met the Enemy...
You can't strictly complain about how Ron's been passing information back to you.
You man's reports have been detailed, complete, accurate as far as he can tell, and above all, concise. Furthermore, you haven't needed to prompt him for them
once. You get one once a day, every day. You are fully informed. The President of the Commonwealth cannot complain that her General does not talk to her.
And
yet...
The young woman who spent weeks in the wilderness shooting Nazis wants to be out there. The angry officer who stormed the camps wants to pick up a rifle and shoot. The firebrand, tiring every day but never going out, who kept Chicago on its feet through the worst of the Collapse wants to not have to rely on a pre-Collapse officer who's spent his days one step ahead of the next air strike. You don't
want to hand things over to him. You want to get out there and
fight.
You're sick of hearing that your old Air Patrol was ripped from the skies, and you can't imagine how Daria's holding up. You're so, so proud of Stephen and the Navy, but you're petrified waiting for word that the first one has died. Hearing how the Liberators Division -- which holds the vast majority of the old Chicago Militia -- is performing makes your stomach flip with joy and grief.
And all of it makes you so antsy you can barely
breathe.
Today you're sitting and waiting for Ron's report. It's due in a few seconds; the man is punctual to a fault. It's become part of your daily routine, waiting with Sara for his reports. The two of you both understand; you both feel the need to get up and get going, and the strain of being unable to.
Today, the two of you look up as the usual staffer steps in. "The daily report, President, Assistant Secretary," says the young lady, handing the sheaf of paper to you.
"Thank you, Tonya," you reply, immediately opening it. Tonya turns away immediately and steps out.
You read, and then you freeze. You haven't even turned past the first page yet, and you honestly don't think that you could bear to. You...you don't want this moment to end. You want to stay here, reading this sheet, for the rest of your life, because nothing else could match this moment. Anything more can only be worse than this, you know. You don't want to ruin it.
Sara shifts in her seat. "Well?" she asks. "What does he have to say for himself?"
You blink furiously, swallowing hard, and hand it over to her. You can see the exact moment she starts reading; she gasps. Her hand flies to her mouth. You see her jaw working. "...oh my god," she whispers.
You slump back in your chair, staring at her. She reaches the bottom of the page, and a laugh tears its way past her lips. She looks up and meets your eyes.
For the first time in a long time, the two of you smile at one another over the words of a report dealing with Victoria. For the first time in a long time, you have reason.
* * *
Madame President,
Met the enemy at the Raisin Line. They were very disorganized and eager to come to grips, and commenced operations immediately. Three divisions began pinning assaults at various points along the line, sustaining heavy casualties in the open terrain. Two further divisions then sought out and made two major crossings in open gaps in the line. At this point, the Victorians committed the Savior Tank Division and the CMC division committed to this campaign -- now confirmed as the 2nd, "Moses," Division. Savior division crossed on a pontoon bridge, while Moses division made use of their IFV's amphibious capabilities.
At this point, I committed the 1st Division to attacking Moses Division. The engagement was decisive, and I can report that the division has been defeated in its entirety, to profound impact on Victorian morale.
Following this, our forces withdrew from the Raisin Line to the Huron Line, per the operations plan.
Further details to follow.
Admiral Romano may be cross with me for stealing the opportunity, but there is something of a tradition regarding decisive American victories on Lake Erie that I feel motivated to reenact, if you'll indulge me.
Dear Madame President:
We have met the enemy and they are ours. Six divisions, three brigades, one navy, and approximately two hundred and thirty assorted aircraft.
Yours with great respect and esteem,
R. J. Burns
To be continued...
