Chapter 59: End of the AUS
Savanah Docks: Russian Zone
A kind of nervous chaos had infiltrated Atlanta's ports. The Russians had taken over several moorings and a number of freighters and passenger vessels had been moored up to take on the retreating Russians and as many civilians as they could manage. Elsewhere, ships from Canada and the former AUS merchant marine were doing exactly the same thing.
Buinov turned as one of his men raced up from him with the news he'd been dreading for days.
“We've received reports that the Robespierre, Marat and Loise Michel just sailed with their battle group from New York.”
With their impressive speed and formidable forward armament, the Marat and Robespierre were both easily a match for the small AUS force that opposed them.
Buinov tapped the toe of his boot against the ground and he took in the masses of humanity, packed together with whatever belongings they could carry.
“ And we believe they intend to close the port?”
The nod confirmed Buinov's fears. The Russians and Canadians were officially here in a purely humanitarian capacity, which meant there were no warships available. The AUS had managed to pull together a few old destroyers and a light cruiser but against two of the most modern battleships afloat and a carrier air-group to serve as spotters for those big guns, there would be no contest.
"Very well, we'll load whatever we can, same priorities, and then I want these ships making for open ocean long before the French get here."
These people just lost their chance
Buinov acknowledged the curt nod his subordinate gave as a substituted for the salute while in American territory. No reason to make it obvious who the leaders among the supposedly non-combatant expeditionary group were, after all. As he scanned the crowd again all seemed normal until he caught a line of women and children being escorted forward toward the loading ramp by some of the AUS men that had been drafted in to help.
What the hell?
“Did you authorise that?”
“No.”
Buinov was jogging towards the group in a heartbeat, his men picked up the signal and by the time he came to a stop before the fifty strong assembly he had six good bayonet men by his side. He locked his eyes straight on the lead AUS man, Miguez if he remembered correctly.
“ Lieutenant, do you mind telling me what you're doing with these people.”
The ethnic Cajun stood his ground and mustered up his Louisiana accent in response.
“ This is an emergency evacuation, the Canadians have started loading women and children first, just in-case we can't get everyone else.”
You have to be kidding me.
Buinov surveyed the women and children, some were as young as four or five, while the women ranged from their early twenties through to those old enough to be grand mothers.
Not exactly rocket engineers or atomic physicists.
“ I appreciate the help Lieutenant, but we have a system here, and i'm not about to start breaking up families at this point. Give me that microphone.”
One of the Zenit men handed Buinov the microphone they'd wired up to the makeshift Public Address system. The chaos subsided as he keyed the system. The crowd may have been confused and close to panic, but they were also desperate for information.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I understand there have been some confusion as to how the evacuation is to be conducted. Some of you have been told that women and children are to be evacuated first.
I know some of you have scared, but the front is stable. Your brave soldiers are buying us the time we need. The situation is far from desperate enough to justify breaking apart families.
I'm here to tell all the families here that you're all going, and you're going to go together.
Not everyone will fit on this first load of ships. A few hours after these depart a number of new vessels will arrive empty and ready to take on more of you. I understand they will include a proper hospital ship so if you have any illnesses or wounds, make sure to tell my men so they can assign you to that ship and receive proper care.
Ultimately, what we need to do I keep this entire process as orderly as possible. My men will be going around asking for information from you for our records. That information will be used to assign you to an appropriate ship and time.
Once again. I know you're scared, and probably a little cold out here. But work with us, and we'll get you all out of here. “
As the last East Coast Port not under CSA control, Savanah was choked with refugees.
Buinov stepped down from the makeshift platform and noted with some satisfaction that the crowd seemed mollified. He waved over one of his officers and spoke in soft Russian.
“ We've got 3-4 thousand seats available maximum, plus some room for the last of the strategic cargo. No one less than a tertiary gets on board. I want engineers and scientists, not corner shop workers.” The order acknowledged the Russians began moving to carry them out while reassuring all those present.
The mob of women and children reluctantly moved back to rejoin their families. Miguez, however, remained behind.
“Can I speak to you sir?”
Buinov picked up that it was not exactly phrased as a question. In the interests of maintaining relations with the AUS contingent, he ushered the union man into the requisitioned port office that was now serving as a primitive command post. Miguez barely waited for the door to close.
“These people don't have to wait.”
Buinov sat down behind the desk, looking over the list of panned ship arrivals, knowing full well that even now radio signals would be going out in code, warning them off.
“There are more ships coming Lieutenant, and we'll load as many as we can on those available to us right now.”
“Not good enough, you have entire cargo-holds full of useless crap you could offload within an hour or so. You could fit thousands in that space and load it on the next ships if you really feel the need, once every soul is of this dock.”
What do you know?
“ I thought our cargo-holds were off limit to American Personnel.”
Miguez shrugged.
“Which is exactly why I felt the need to take a look. And I figure why you Russkies feel the need to keep it all off limits. I've seen some souvenir collecting in my time, but you can't tell me you brought a bunch of aircraft engines and rockets with you only to cart them all the way back to Russia.”
Buinov wasn't panicking, but he was feeling that sick feeling of regret and sadness building in his gut.
“ I take It you haven't decided to share these revelations with any of the others?”
Miguez was getting confident now, he'd already realised Buinov wasn't planning to shut him down.
“ Of course I haven't. Those people out there find out you're prioritising a bunch of science projects and loot over their lives and you're going to have a riot on your hands. Now I don't want to see that, god knows you've done more than you've had to helping us....But you need to do the right thing now.”
Buinov stood up, walking towards the AUS officer. Miguez couldn't be more than twenty three or four, and at 5'9 Buinov had four inches on him.
“ And what is the right thing Miguez? War is a messy thing, you have to make sacrifices every single day. Even now, your General Patton is sacrificing men every minute to hold the French at bay. In that environment, how would you have me pick what to sacrifice and what to save.”
Miguez stood down a little, taking the question at its face value. He turned away and peeked through the blind covered windows at the masses dutifully giving their names and professions to the questioning Russians.
“ Some things matter, some things don't. Lives matter, and in the end, you sacrifice whatever you have to, even if that's other lives, to make sure you save whoever you can. That's what I’ve taken out of this war, at least. And right now, you know you have a chance to save some of my people.”
Buinov nodded and walked forward toward Miguez as he continued to peek thorugh the curtain.
“Exactly, but that doesn't make it any easier to make those calls.”
Miguez let the curtain fall closed and leaned on the covered window frame, fatigue obviously permeating his figure.
“ No, it doesn't does it.”
The combat blade punched into the American's spine as Buinov's muscled hands clenched around his mouth. Like a puppet with his strings cut, the American officer collapsed to the ground, silent as the blood soaked into his battle scared uniform.
Buinov took a knee and crossed himself. Then he returned to the business of saving what lives he could.
Taken from 'War said:
August saw the fall of Savanah to the victorious CSA. Paton's command, feared out of all proportion to their numbers, finally gave way before the red tide. CSA propaganda depicted this as a victory of true Americans over the missguided and reactionary. In reality, the CSA army was already redeploying and resolving internal conflicts, having previously failed against Patton's tanks. Instead, the final assault was mostly undertaken by French troops, with Italian and French aircraft flying supporting missions.
The French navy also aided their new allies (now formally integrating themselves into the Internationale) by closing the port. The French North American battle-group, lead by two modern battleships and France's valuable fleet carrier, engaged any ship attempting to leave and then hurled shells at distant ground targets in support of the land advance. Casualties were heavy, but the French still considered the operation a failure. Prior to their arrival, the British, Russian and other neutral merchant vessels had sailed from the port en mass. Over the full course of the evacuation, huge numbers of Americans left their homelands for greener pastures rather than risk the consequences of Reed's new form of governance. Galling for the Internationale, it was soon discovered that Long and his inner circle had been among those to make their escape before the French fleet could arrive. The Americans were reluctant to cast blame on their allies however. The only reason they were needed is because the CSA's navy was still undermanned and disorganized when compared to its Pacific or European rivals.
For those that remained behind, the change to new governance was swift. With French assistance, the CSA asserted full control over the productive capacity of the former AUS territories. Following the practiced techniques used in Spain and Italy, French planners used the restored order to begin bringing the East's industrial capacity online and geared to support the next big advance of Syndicalism in North America. For those Americans left behind, it was time to go back to work and, they were told, to move to liberate the last of their brothers that did not yet enjoy the new life that would come under Reed's leadership. Resistance was inevitable, but after witnessing first hand the damage that could be caused in urban fighting, many Americans just went back to work, desperate for the payments in Rations, housing and resources which work would bring.
Peace lasted in North America for approximately two weeks between the fall of Atlanta and the collapse of negotiations between the PSA and CSA. Confident in his new Internationale allies and the superior industrial strength of the East Coast, Reed saw no need to negotiate with the West. Soon CSA troops were marching West, ready to bring the revolution just as their ancestors had brought Western Civilization. The American civil war, the war which had torn apart a once proud nation, was far from over yet.
