The United States: 'Prophets of a New Order'

yourworstnightm: I was a bit surprised, but nevertheless pleased by what the Brits managed to assemble in Scotland.

Viden: They are... in Austria and Poland.

Kurt_Steiner: Indeed, and the front lines still aren't anywhere near them.

Enewald: Land where?

Nathan Madien: Looks like you don't need my help now.


The United States in the World War - Part VIII

As the incumbent party in power, the Democrats assembled for their national convention a month after their Republican counterparts. Held in Chicago, the former heart of the Syndicalist rebellion, the nation's worse kept secret was Roosevelt's intention to run for a third term. Despite this precedent-setting move, breaking an unwritten tradition in American politics, the party was only too eager to grant Roosevelt his wish. No serious opposition stood in the President's way, and few could deny that he maintained an impressive electability; having weathered civil war, officiated over sweeping reforms and policies that returned economic prosperity, and command-in-chief through two successive wars, Roosevelt's experience was undeniable, his personal charisma undiminished, and his political intuition as sharp as ever. But the reality was not all good; stricken by polio and enduring the strain of governing the nation for eight years had taken an unmistakable toll on the President's health. Many, accustomed to a warm and energetic voice over the radio, were often shocked at the sight of Roosevelt's frailty. The difference between Roosevelt and Willkie was obvious.


In spite of the Roosevelt's assurances that he was healthy and as fit as ever to serve as President, several delegates nevertheless began to see the choice of Vice President, the only issue still in question even as the convention began, in a far grimmer light: as the inevitable successor to the Presidency. Henry Wallace, serving faithfully as Vice President since his fateful decision in 1936 to throw his lot in with Roosevelt against Garner, naturally assumed his renomination would follow without any undue difficulties.

Left-leaning, Wallace served as a lightning rod for former-Syndicalist voters, and also for the criticisms of the more staunchly conservative elements of the Republican Party. As such, the Vice President ultimately found himself at odds with many of Roosevelt's advisors within the administration, his presence something to be tolerated or endured rather than welcomed. Roosevelt's own style of hands-on governance also meant Wallace's influence within the government remained at a dreary minimum. With more time and less responsibilities, Wallace was allowed to indulge in a peculiar private life for the time. A mystic in simple terms, Wallace was involved with the Russian intellectual Nicholas Roerich; though neither scandalous or illicit in nature, the relationship, if brought to public attention, would prove an embarrasment.

Such issues, however, were dwarfed by the growing rift between Wallace and Roosevelt regarding the conduct of the war. A Syndicalist sympathizer to a large extent, Wallace believed that cooperation, not conflict, with Syndicalist Europe was essential, and that the war should be brought to a speedy conclusion. American honor, he insisted, had been restored in full; the attack on the Atlantic Fleet hardly warranted an all-out war with the entire continent. For his part, Roosevelt had remained ambiguous on overall American objectives, not wishing to commit himself and therefore limit his freedom of action in the future. What considerations the President operated under eluded even his closest advisors, and this frustrated Wallace to no end.

Had Roosevelt insisted, Wallace would be renominated Vice President without a fight. But even the President had his misgivings; Willkie was unlike McNary or Curtis; with humble Midwestern origins, a dynamic appeal, and ties to big business, he could appeal to a wide spectrum of voters, wide enough to clinch the election if Roosevelt was not careful. The President, therefore, began looking for alternatives: support for Senator John Bankhead, an Alabama lawyer who, though an advocate of poor farmers, refused to fall prey to National rhetoric prior to the civil war. His background, it was hoped, could also draw off voters from the nascent Southern wing of the Republicans; his popularity had allowed him to survive the civil war and emerge to win a House seat twice. But it was a little-known Missouri Senator by the name of Harry Truman that emerged as a prominent dark horse candidate. Drawn from humble Midwestern origins just like Willkie, Truman gained local notoriety during the civil war organizing relief for his fellow farmers against the oppressive collectivist directives of the Syndicalist authorities. In 1940, they repaid the favor by sending Truman to the Senate, where he once again distinguished himself by investigating charges of corruption and waste in the wartime military, in particular an unnamed multi-billion dollar project, that served to greatly annoy Roosevelt.

The first ballot for Vice President indicated that many of the more liberal Democrats refused to abandon Wallace, with 397 cast in his favor, with the rest split almost evenly between Truman and Bankhead, with another 150 scattered amongst a bevy of lesser candidates. Bankhead's relative obscurity outside of the Deep South proved his undoing, as the remaining conservatives and moderates began to shift to Truman on the second ballot. Enraged, Wallace demanded that the party leadership renominate him; 'Americans won't stand this slaughter in England much longer!' he was said to yell, 'And they won't stand for you much longer either!' Undeterred by his threats, the third ballot decisively swung toward Truman. Approximately 250 delegates, the core of the liberal wing, stayed with Wallace, as the rest rallied to Truman, clinching him the nomination. Disgusted with what he saw as an abandonment of the socialist principles of the new Democratic Party and the 'New Deal' reforms, Wallace dramatically denounced the results and stormed out of the convention, taking his supporters with him.


If America was surprised by Truman's nomination, Wallace's walk-out came as a complete shock. In an instant, the party seemed to be rupturing. Republicans breathed a sigh of relief; rather than facing the daunting left-center coalition held together by Roosevelt and Wallace in '36 and '40, it seemed their opposition was disintegrating right before their eyes. Roosevelt put up a calm front, but privately scolded Democratic leaders: 'I don't intend to lose this before I even begin.' Mustering his strength, Roosevelt took center stage on the final day of the convention and unfurled into a magnificent speech, rivaling that which inaugurated his New Deal in '36. Roosevelt began by vowing to maintain the prosperity brought about by his reforms and 'enact what measures may be necessary to ensure their greater benefit for the American people.' Continuing with denouncements of the threat Willkie represented to almost a decade of reform work, as well as the 'disorderly radicalism of certain factions of both conservative and liberal backgrounds' which 'threatens to disrupt the integrity of the political system so many thousands perished to persevere and protect.' However, all this paled in comparison to his pronouncement on the war:

And it must be admitted, my friends, that we live in perilous times. The grim specters of war, depression, and revolution appear in every foreign capital, on every horizon that we cast our eyes. Since the last great cataclysm that swept across Europe and the whole world, the old order of things has been overturned by a force no less threatening to the integrity of our great republic. One great radicalism has been replaced by another. At this very moment, this nation is engaged in a great struggle with that grave threat. Though we may be separated from the turmoil of the Old World by great oceans, time has shown that this is no defense against that which plagues the world.

It is by the good fortune of Providence and our own illustrious history that we stand at this moment in history as defenders of the great democratic principles, assured by our bountiful lands, booming factories of industry, and the stalwart character of the American people. My friends, it is time that we as a people take up the mantle fate has bestowed on us; should we ignore this grave undertaking and turn inwards as we did in the face of the last Great War, we will only invite disaster upon ourselves. Instead, let us all here assembled constitute ourselves prophets of a new order. The world must be made safe for America; the world must be made safe for democracy.'​

Such an abrupt announcement, made in the chaotic and highly-charged atmosphere of the convention hall, begged elaboration, but the President was hardly forthcoming and short on details. Roosevelt's speech posed as much a direct challenge to Wallace and his dissenting Syndicalist cohorts as it did to Willkie, like-minded as he was on the issue of the war. In accentuating their similarities on foreign policy, Roosevelt seemed to be gambling that voters would choose the incumbent, who had proven himself capable in handling more wars than any other president in American history, in in the meantime preempting Wallace. The risk was very real indeed. Wallace threatened to tap into the sympathies of a very large pool of voters, voters who were growing increasing distressed at the stalemate in Scotland and the steadily-rising casualty lists; despite the years of social calamity and civil war, Americans remained as reluctant to send young American men to die on foreign battlefields.

Nevertheless, a new party had emerged on the American political theater following the Democratic convention. Showing no second thoughts and wasting no time, Wallace gathered his allies and disparate left-leaning elements, many of them the remnants of Reed's Syndicalist party, in New York City for the formation of the Social Progressive Party on August 3rd. Wallace, the hero of the hour, was nominated by acclamation. Choosing the Vice Presidential candidate proved far easier than it was for the Democrats: Earl Browder, a former-popular front communist from Kansas, was chosen for both his inclusivist stances and his relative lack of involvement with the rebellion. The Social Progressive platform called for reaffirmation of the New Deal, renewed reforms along socialist lines, and a negotiated peace with the Syndicalist alliance 'that satisfies the necessities of American national honor.'


Thus, Roosevelt had what he had wanted least: a referendum on the current war and, worse still, the defection of the leftist branch of the Democratic Party. The political landscape of the election had abruptly shifted over the course of just a few days, and the outcome of the November elections was suddenly cast into confusion.

Good to see such excitement and partisanship over the election. This ought to be entertaining.

Enewald: Too German.

GeneralHannibal: History remained unchanged up to 1915, so Jim Crow was put into full effect as per the original timeline. The South, however, has been undergoing a political and ideological shift ever since the civil war. The Nationals were far from being a monolithic bloc, and the rhetoric of Long was far different from the rhetoric of Kuhn. Which side gained greater traction, and what one believes about who killed Long, depends primarily on geography. As such, in some areas, black civil rights has made some progress in some places, and other places not at all. But no concerted effort has been made by the Federal government.

Andreios II: Glad to see you're enjoying it so much. As for deaths, consider that the previous three decades are radically different than they were in real life. While certain things might remain unchanged, others could easily be avoided due to the vastly different circumstances of the intervening three decades.

BipBapBop: Oh, what a coincidence that would be.


The United States in the World War - Part IX

As tensions mounted on the political stage, so too were troubles brewing within the military over questions of strategy and the overall performance of the Army in the ongoing war effort. Once the darling of the American public and pre-eminent star of the Army, Douglas MacArthur, ostensibly still the highest-ranking general of the American Army, has been increasingly marginalized since the start of the war. His controversial plans for an 'island-hopping' invasion across the Atlantic and an invasion of Norway, as well as a tendency for his grievances to leak to the press, had revealed a growing rift between MacArthur and many other generals, particularly Dwight Eisenhower and Omar Bradley; his army, IV. Army, was ultimately the last to be shipped over to Britain, and his influence of overall strategy was at an all-time low.

But the unfortunate break-down of the campaign in northern England into an interminable stalemate presented the general with new opportunities. With Eisenhower's attacks persistently failing, and the casualty counts mounting, the beleaguered President began to reconsider his overall faith in Eisenhower's ability to wrap up the British campaign. On July 30, with the disaster at the Democratic convention still fresh in the President's mind, MacArthur, with little to do while his army lounged in North Carolina awaiting transport to England, traveled to Washington to meet with the President. The meeting was informal, with the conversation rambling over a variety of subjects, including the Republican effort to recruit MacArthur as their presidential candidate, before the general finally revealed a plan that 'I bet would roll the Syndies up in a month.' MacArthur's plan bordered on the fanciful: a massive paratrooper attack along the eastern Scottish coast followed by a Marine landing between Aberdeen and Dundee followed by a bold thrust toward Glasgow and the British rear-area, trapping Gort's armies completely. Impressed by MacArthur's audacity but still not ready to abandon Eisenhower, Roosevelt politely demurred and wished the general good luck in Scotland.

Even as the British continued to valiantly hold on in Scotland, the Syndicalists continued to advance on other fronts. Largely unmolested by the American entrance into the war, save for occasional aerial attacks, the French continued pushing against Austria and Poland. Already teetering on the brink of collapse in the face of a combined French-German-Italian onslaught, Austria, the sad remnants of the once-great Habsburg empire, finally collapsed on August 1, 1944. Following its benefactor not long after, the authoritarian puppet regime in Poland surrendered to France on the 12th. Reacting quickly to these long-awaited events, the French moved rapidly to establish friendly Syndicalist regimes in both states. Within days of their surrender, Austria and Poland had joined the Syndicalist coalition.


Determined to respond to what essentially amounted to the complete victory of Syndicalism on the European continent, the Americans reacted in a grim yet novel manner. Eager to demonstrate American technological superiority in the face of the Syndicalist advantage in sheer numbers and to justify the vast expenditures of taxpayer dollars on 'flights of fancy' and 'gross misallocations of war resources' on the home front, the United States launched an unprecedented attack on France from across the Channel. With the coast safely defended by Air Corps in conjunction with captured British anti-air and radar stations, American engineers had secretly been assembling curious facilities in southeast England; French spies could only speculate as to its precise nature, but on August 11 in the skies over Paris, the nature of the project became all too clear.

On the morning of the 11th, a new weapon appeared over Paris, the ballistic missile. Based on earlier rockets developed in the Oklahoma panhandle under the guidance of Clarence Johnson, these ballistic missiles, codenamed 'Redstone,' represented the outcome of years of intensive research and development in long-range, unmanned bombs that were to be employed by the Air Corps. Over the course of the entire day, scores of these carefully-aimed missiles bombarded the French capital. Though the aim was to devastate the industrial centers and infrastructure such as railyards and warehouses, precision with these brand-new weapons was impossible, resulting in wide-spread damage across the entire city.

Like the earlier aerial attack on Glasgow, the Parisian missile attacks did little to affect the French war effort, but it served its purpose as a psychological weapon perfectly. The United States clearly had the technological edge over an opponent that owed much of its success against the Imperial German armies to its innovative and modern military force, allowing America to strike at Europe with practical impunity. Indeed, in the field of rocketry, the United States boasted a practical monopoly. The enemy could only watch helplessly and wonder what other 'wonder weapons' the United States had underway.

The missile attack on Paris did not, however, divert the American war effort. On August 13, Eisenhower launched his largest assault on the British defenses to date with thirty-five divisions against the British twenty-one. Using the North Sea to anchor his flank, Eisenhower launched a massive right hook, hoping to smash his way through to Edinburgh, while pinning the British center with a secondary attack directly north from Carlisle. The plan nearly worked; the British left began to crumble under the relentless American assault, allowing the Americans to advance nearly ten miles on the 13th. But using the lull in the fighting afforded by the cover of darkness, Gort shifted his center forces eastward, allowing the British commander to launch a fierce counterattack on the 14th and again on the 15th. Having lost what ground had been gained on the 13th, Eisenhower finally cancelled the offensive.

The outcome of this most recent battle seemed to only further validate Wallace's stance on the war issue. Roosevelt could only weakly rebut that setbacks in war were inevitable, but were only temporary. As anti-war sentiment on the left intensified, even Willkie began to rethink his election stance on the war. Other Republicans began to openly wonder if Eisenhower was really the right man for the job, but the idea was quickly squelched by the party leadership; whatever their political alignments, officers would in near-unanimity denounce that kind of political meddling in their realm. But the seeds, already planted in Roosevelt's mind by his July 30 conversation with MacArthur, who had finally arrived in England with his army on the 27th. After a brief consultation with Marshall, Roosevelt authorized MacArthur to begin preparations for the operation he had envisioned.