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niennavalier · 3 years

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AC: Rogue - Second Chances

Summary: He's not an Assassin anymore - Shay has no doubts about that. He's less sure where that leaves him in the world, or in the context of this centuries-long war between Assassins and Templars. But when he's presented with a second chance - from a Templar, no less - he has to question all that he's done in the past. And all that he'll do in the future.

Character study set during AC: Rogue Sequence 3-1 "The Color of Right".

(Also posted on AO3)

*****

Shay isn’t sure what he’d been expecting. There’s little he remembers of the moment after being shot, aside from perhaps accepting his fate, knowing that, at the very least, he’d stopped the Assassins from leveling more cities. But he hadn’t expected to wake up at all, much less in a comfortable home and cared for by a kindly couple.

He’d not thought that he could be surprised by much else, but then Mrs. Finnegan - Cassidy - had handed him some clothing, and now, dressing himself, he can’t help but think.

They were our son's . Those words - they keep circling through his head as he readjusts the coat, finishes tightening his belt. Because he can't keep the thought from his mind.

The Finnegans' son - he'd been a Templar.

He'd not wanted to believe it at first, seeing the crosses at his shoulders, telling himself it was something else, something he'd seen elsewhere. It wasn't the Templar cross, and the couple who'd taken him in and cared for him as their own - they weren't Templars. They weren’t the same people he’d spent years fighting.

But pulling the strap for his rifle over his shoulder, the other cross settling on top of his heart, it’s not something he can deny. Somehow, he’s certain of it; whether the Finnegans are Templars themselves, their son had been.

And now he’s wearing the lad’s clothes. It’s something that makes him all the more aware of the hidden blades at his wrists - nothing feels quite right about any of this. Not that he can do much about it.

Sighing and shaking the thoughts from his head for now, he takes the time to tie his hair away from his face and happens to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Looking as he does, he has no doubt his younger self would've thought him a Templar himself, some fanatic obsessed with order. With his weapons returned, he looks every bit a man ready to fight for all that he’d once fought against . Though it's not like he has much choice; he doubts his old clothes had survived the ordeal.

He's not mourning their loss, though. It's a sudden realization, and one he wasn’t expecting to have, but he hadn't been eager to don the hood again. And he still isn't, perhaps would never be. Stranger still, it's not a thought he can bring himself to regret.

Wearing the uniform of the people he’d called enemies is unsettling, but as his last memories of the Homestead flash through his mind - all those he’d called friends, called family , suddenly turned against him - he’s certain that wearing his own robes would’ve been worse.

As he steps back into the main room, though, it’s like none of that even matters. The way Cassidy’s eyes light up - “Oh, well don’t you look a right gentleman!” - it fills him with something warm that he can’t remember when he last felt. Warmth. Family. Feeling like he doesn’t have to work to earn affection, the way he suspects it feels to have parents, despite never properly knowing his own.

Perhaps it shouldn’t feel as novel as it does, but he can’t help freezing on the spot. How is he meant to respond to that?

So he doesn't respond, at least, not directly. He asks about the Manuscript - lost, apparently, and some mix of relief and anger flares in his chest. Good, better that no one can get their hands on the damned thing. Good-hearted folk like these - they wouldn't be caught in the crossfire ever again. He'd see to that.

***

He's not expecting it when a man approaches him from behind, the cross on his sash - a Templar cross, it must be - the first and only thing Shay sees. His hand is reaching back for his pistols before he even realizes it - trust isn't something he's keen on having in spades for now.

"Be at ease, Master Cormac, we are friends.” Doubtful. But the man does know his name, somehow, even if Shay can’t guess why. Does he also know -? He must. This dance they’re doing - it’s too familiar. Both of them know what the other is (or rather, was , Shay supposes). He’d have to tread carefully; he has no idea what this Templar wants with him. “The Finnegans were worried you might take matters into your own hands. I am Colonel George Monro.”

Shay nods, the safest thing he can think to do. “Colonel.” The Finnegans, he’s willing to trust, and the Colonel knowing them might have meant something had their son not also been a Templar. As it stands, the connection means little.

“I came to help, but it seems I am late. Thank you for dealing with these foul criminals.” He eyes the gang leader (the Assassin-trained gang leader) Shay had killed just minutes earlier. “They were a blight on New York.”

The words are quick to rub him wrong. “What do you care?” For all Shay might agree about the gangs, he’d yet to meet a British officer who gave a damn about the colonists. Much less one who was a Templar, besides. “You Redcoats are nothing but landlords. The townsfolk here are grinding away, trying to make a living.” And for what, really?

“I cannot blame you for having that impression.” Of course he can’t. It’s true, and Shay had seen it himself. The restrictions keeping merchants from trading as they pleased, the dangers and hardships braved by the colonists only for their earnings to line the pockets of the Crown. It’s the truth, not just an impression. “Some of my comrades have been less than helpful. But I take a different approach.”

“And what is that?” The words are bitter on his tongue.

“I care. I want to see these colonists safe and prosperous.” Years of training are screaming in his head not to trust this man. That he's just another Templar snake who's willing to say anything if it gets him his way. There's no way for Shay to know if he means any of the things coming out of his mouth.

"Noble words." But were any of them true? He’d naively thought others as righteous as the Colonel made himself out to be, and they’d all proven otherwise.

"Perhaps actions will convince you otherwise, Master Cormac." The Colonel gestures for him to lead the way, and he hesitates for a moment - it's a trick, it has to be - before thinking deeper on it. Betrayal still lingers in his mind, learning that the people he’d called his family cared more about ancient artifacts than they did him, or the thousands of innocent lives on the line. He knows now that they must have lied to him all along, and, really, were they all that different from the Templars? Now, he’s not an Assassin anymore, and that’s not enough to change any of what he believes about the Templars, but it’s enough to make him think.

Perhaps he could hear the Colonel out, if nothing else. At worst, his beliefs would be confirmed yet again. At best…

He's not ready yet to think there can be a better outcome.

***

“You can do great things for this city and its citizens. After all, a man needs purpose.” Those are the last words he hears from the Colonel before the man takes his leave, and they cut into him deeper than he'd like to admit. Though it's not for a bad reason of any sort. The way he explains himself - Shay can't help but feel like he can trust him. Perhaps because it sounds like the Colonel trusts him in return, despite having never met, and the two of them having stood on opposite sides. There's more than a chance that it should worry him, but instead it makes him think of something else - the orders and harsh reprimands from the Assassins. He'd known none of them (save maybe Liam) had ever really trusted him or his skills, but he'd not thought that much of it at the time. Assumed it was normal, being that he'd been the newest one there, but now, the way the Colonel was talking to him, he's starting to rethink that. Perhaps starting to resent that, too, whether he likes it or not.

It’s a selfish reason to make any kind of decision, and he knows as much, refreshing as all of it might feel. It’s not something he’d act on alone - he’s already seen what blind faith and desperation can do, and who can pay the price of death and destruction as a result. Lisbon flashes through his mind, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday. Screams of pain and terror still ring in his ears as smoke and sulfur make his eyes and nose sting, heat from the flames burning his cheeks. His rib smarts, and for a moment, he thinks it’s from tumbling through a crumbling building, crashing against walls and floors and furniture, not from falling off a cliff at the Homestead.

He forces himself to breathe and shakes the memories from his mind. That’s what he can’t let happen again. That’s what he has to make right, no matter what it takes.

And so he can't help but feel drawn in by all the things Colonel Monro said, about just doing right by the people. Making their lives better, not through freedom or control - not through the Assassins or Templars - but just by helping where they can.

As badly as he wants to remain skeptical, he can’t find a problem in that, at least.

But he still stands and watches for some time after that, wanting to see for himself. He stays along the sidelines as the citizens of New York wander by, their eyes turning bright as they hear that the old building is to be restored. From their conversations, he learns that the place had once been a church, left to disrepair now with the threat of war hanging over them. And seeing it ready to be restored - it visibly fills them with hope, and that lights something warm in his chest. Something that he's not sure when he felt last.

It reminds him of the way he’d felt when he’d first joined the Assassins, hopeful, and like he was finally sure of what he was doing. But he’d been a fool, then - he knows that, now - and hadn’t known that he’d hurt far more people than he’d help.

He can't say where he stands when it comes to the Assassins and Templars, to the endless war he'd fought in without ever really understanding it, but he's always trusted himself to know what's right. And this - seeing the lives of normal, everyday folk made easier - he can feel is right.

And for now, perhaps that would be enough.

He can accept that much, and knows he should head back to the Finnegans - all else aside, he trusts them. But as he winds through the familiar streets of his home, he can't help but think on the Colonel's offer. The man may be a Templar, but what he's offering - this way to just help people - it feels like a second chance. Like a way to start atoning for all the lives lost in Lisbon. Exactly what the Assassins wouldn't allow him to do.

Perhaps… perhaps this is the way forward. He may not be fully ready to trust the man yet, for all that he seems honorable, but doing some good for the people of the city, protecting them against those who would do them harm - that much, he would do.

#ac rogue #assassins creed #assassins creed rogue #shay cormac #shay patrick cormac #i have Thoughts when it comes to Shay and his development and all that good stuff #but also #best boy needs a HUG #my writing #my fic #my fanfic

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khantoelessar · 3 years

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Hogan’s timeline prior to Stalag 13

The purpose of this meta is to make an attempt at trying to fit Robert Hogan’s timeline pre-Stalag 13 to match something close to that of the actual historical timeline of World War II. I’m not saying this is actual canon, more like suggesting a possibility to stimulate conversation about Hogan’s timeline before being shot down and also an interest in World War II itself.

There are going to be holes in my theory. I’m well aware of this. However, trying to fit Hogan’s Heroes canon timeline to actual historical timeline is like trying to piece it together with baling wire, duct tape and glue. But that is half the fun anyway.

So on we go.

Our first semi-confirmed date for the series is the pilot episode which tells us it is the winter of 1942.

We also have a semi-confirmed date from A Tiger Hunt in Paris that “Frank Dirken” escaped Stalag 13 December 1942. Now America entered the war when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour on 7 December, 1941. Roosevelt officially declared war on Germany on 11 December, 1941.

But actual hostilities did not commence right away. There was the problem of getting all those men and material across the Atlantic but also, and I mean no disrespect to the Americans when I point this out, but due to America’s neutrality and non-intervention policy a majority of those in uniform at that time had no combat experience.

What this means in terms of Robert Hogan’s past prior to Stalag 13 is that it greatly constricts the time Hogan would have had to fight if he had first arrived in Britain with the rest of the USAAF. The first of the US 8th Air Force didn’t arrive in Britain until 12 May, 1942. (1) The first joint RAF/USAAF bombing raid was in the Netherlands on 4 July, 1942 (2) and the first solo US bombing raid in Europe was on 17 August, 1942, over Rouen. (3)

This would leave at the very most seven months for Hogan to not only establish his reputation as a bomber commander but also get shot down and then get the Stalag 13 operation up and running. In “Happiness is a Warm Sergeant” Le Beau says:

Le Beau: “Maybe we can tame [Kreb]. If he likes strudel.”

Hogan: “Come on. It took us six months to get Schultz to look the other way.”

Le Beau couldn’t have gotten the ingredients to make the strudel that is Schultz’s main bribe prior to the operation being set up, not from a POW camp.

Then there was the raid on the submarine base in Breman mentioned in “Two Nazis for the Price of One.”

Hogan: “I supposed you’re talking about the bombing mission I flew against your secret submarine base in Breman.”

There were three raids on Breman between May and December of 1942. 3-4 June, 25 – 28 June and 19 November. However there were other raids prior to that. (4)

One more interesting detail that I want to add before putting forward my theory as to Hogan’s timeline is that the first of the B17 flying fortresses saw action in Britain when the RAF used them to bomb Wilhelmshaven on 18 July, 1941. (5)

So here’s my theory. Hogan was flying for Great Britain before the US entered the war. There have been fanfics written on this which I highly recommend. However there is one snag with them. Hogan could not have been enlisted in the US Army Airforce when he did so. Not only was the US officially neutral in the war until 7 December, 1941 but it was illegal for US citizens to fly for Great Britain under America’s neutrality laws. But many did so by sneaking across the border into Canada with false papers, claiming to be Canadian or of other nationalities and travelling to Britain to join the RAF. (6) I think it is worth taking a moment to honour the courage of those men and what they risked. In the beginning the United States did not take these transgressions lightly as this story posted on the Warfare History Network attests.

“As they boarded the train for Montreal, the two Americans tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. They were well aware that if they were caught they would be in trouble. At the very least, they would be sent back to the United States. There was also the possibility that they could be sent to prison, as well as fined more money than they had seen in their entire lives.

At the Canadian border, the train stopped and several sinister looking officials got on board. They wanted to know where the two were going and why.

“We’re on our way to Montreal to see a cousin who runs a fish hatchery,” was the reply. One of the unsmiling officials—probably an FBI agent—wanted to know if they were fliers. “Don’t be silly. Do we look like fliers?”

The officials were apparently satisfied by the reply. One of them opened the suitcases of the two travelers and rummaged through the top layer of clothing. He did not look any deeper. If he had, he would have found what he was looking for—flying helmets, goggles, and logbooks. Instead, he closed the lid and wished the young fellows a pleasant trip.

The two Americans, Eugene “Red” Tobin and Andy Mamedoff, were not smuggling contraband. They were going to Canada to enlist in the air force of a foreign country which, in the early weeks of 1940, was against the law. “The Federal Bureau of Investigation kept a pretty close check on all Americans going to Canada,” Red Tobin later said, “so we had to watch our step.”

You can read the rest of the article here. (7)

The men who chose to go to Canada risked not only fines and imprisonment but also loss of their citizenship. (8)

It wasn’t until 19 November, 1941 that Britain officially revealed that there were three squadrons of American pilots called the Eagle Squadrons. (9)

Another fact the prohibits Hogan being part of the USAAF prior to the American entry is that prior to the war America had start to build up its own armed forces. (10) It began on 15 June, 1940. By 7 December, 1941 they had over 2 million in all branches. (11) This means that the USAAF was in desperate need of competent and skilled pilots to not only lead attacks but also to train new ones in its Air Corp tactical school. (12)

Combine these and I think it highly unlikely that the USAAF would have turned a blind eye to one of its best and most brilliant tactical pilots and officers to go AWOL to fight for a foreign country, especially at a time when the isolationist movement was strong.

There is another route open to Hogan having fought for the RAF and even during the Battle of Britain that I would like to explore here as a possible . . . let’s say, alternative headcanon.

He could have taken the route mentioned earlier by those other Americans, crossing the border into Canada, getting training there and then going onto Britain. I can see Hogan doing something like this. In the face of the news of repeated atrocities being committed by the Nazis and his country refusing to get involved, I can see Hogan taking on a false identity and slipping across the border in order to join the fight.

But this is also the same reason I think that Hogan was not allowed to go AWOL from the US Army. It would have violated Roosevelt’s Neutrality Laws, even though he declared,

This would have crossed to far over that line, to have an American USAAF officer openly fighting with the British, especially after Hogan started gaining fame as a war ace and bomber commander. If he was so feared by the Nazis that Biedenbender was jumped from Colonel to General;

Biendenbender: “You see I am the reason you are now here as a prisoner of war.” Hogan: “Thanks.” Biendenbender: “When the bombing raids of the squadron you commanded started to become . . . oh slightly annoying to the Third Reich I was assigned to study your tactics, to get inside your head, I know everything about you . . . so I was able to predict precisely the planning of your last bombing raid on Hamburg in which you were shot down, and I, hah, I was shot up to a General.”

then his fame would definitely have spread to the Commonwealth and then to America.

This is why I put forward the possibility that Hogan never enlisted in the USAAF. Also, Wikipedia states “None of the Eagle Squadron pilots had previously served in the USAAF and did not have US pilot wings.” (14)

There is the option that Hogan never joined the Eagle squadrons directly but flew for the RAF separately. First of all, according to the Wikipedia site (13) none of the Eagle squadrons flew bombers, let alone B17s. Also, in the episode “Some of Their Planes are Missing” and “Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London” we are told that Hogan was attached to the RAF.

If we take this into account when we look at Hogan’s timeline, we get a lot more room for Hogan to have accomplished all that he did. If he snuck across the border into Canada under a false identity prior or during the Battle of Britain which was July through September 1940 (15) he would have over a year of experience, including making his bombing runs on Breman before being finally transferred over to the USAAF and the 504th bomb squadron once America entered the war. The same Wikipedia site quoted before also states that the ranks in the RAF were transferred after some negotiations to the nearest equivalent rank.

There is another detail from the series that supports Hogan’s story links to Britain and the RAF over that of the USAAF and that is the fact that he reports to London, not Washington. Almost all his links to the Allies are British. There are a few Americans, General Barton in “The General Swap”, General Tilman in “How to Cook a German Goose with Radar”, the captain of that submarine in “The Pizza Parlour” and we do see the alliance of the British and the Americans in “Easy Come, Easy Go”.

But other than that all of his contacts and command structure that he reports to are British. There is no mention of the OSS or of Washington. When Hogan is flown back to England for the briefing before D-Day in “D-Day at Stalag 13” the General (we are not given a name) is British, not American and the “old man” they refer to is Churchill, not Roosevelt.

General: “Even to tell you this much this much had to be cleared at the highest level of intelligence, the Old Man himself.”

Hogan could have been one of those Americans who crossed the border into Canada, got false papers there and traveled to Britain to joined the RAF. He didn’t join the Eagle Squadrons (although I can see him qualifying on the spitfires because they were one of the best planes out there) because he’d been transferred to Bomber Command. When America entered the war, he transferred to the USAAF with the equivalent rank of Colonel and put in charge of the 504th bomb group (even though in reality the 504th flew in the Pacific theatre and not the European one and was part of the 20th Air Force) because by then his reputation had long since proceeded him. He was part of the US mass bombing raid on Ploesti on 12 June, 1942 (16) but was shot down after that and was transferred to Stalag 13 just about the same time as Klink, who (I’m assuming was there to solve the massive escape problems) as we are told in “The Kommadant Dies at Dawn”

Hogan: “Are you kidding, before I arrived you had so many escapes they were going to put a revolving door at the front gate.”

Now like I said this headcanon is not water proof. There are some holes that I can’t fill.

Hogan does say that he was assigned to the Pentagon in “Klink vs the Gonculator”

As mentioned previously, I don’t think the Army would have let him go AWOL to fight for a foreign country if he was already an officer.

On the other hand I should point out that he was talking to Klink and was running one of his cons on him. It is also possible that he was assigned briefly to the Pentagon after Pearl Harbour but before he was shot down. His experience and connections in the RAF would have been invaluable. So maybe this possible headcanon of mine still holds water.

There are also other people who could have taken this path to the war and that is Kinch and every other black POW in Stalag 13.

The Tuskegee Airmen, the only black American squadron in World War II were first deployed overseas in North Africa on 24 April, 1943. (17) That’s too late for Kinch and the other black POWs to be shot down and sent to Stalag 13.

But while the American forces were segregated Canada and Great Britain weren’t quite so insistent on it. They couldn’t afford to be. This is not to say there wasn’t discrimination. Both Canada and Britain did have discriminatory practices (18) (19) that limited enrollment to all but the most general positions to those not of white European descent. But in practice a person of colour’s ability to not only enlist but to serve in a role beyond that of support personal depended very much on the recruitment officer as shown in this story.

“In 1939 the so-called colour bar that prevented black people from serving in the British forces was formally lifted, largely because the Second World War meant that the Army, Navy and Air Force needed to recruit as many men as possible.

The lifting of the bar didn’t necessarily mean it was easy for would-be West Indian recruits to get in however.

There were people who would try three or four times to get in, or pay their own passage to come to Britain from the Caribbean.

Another route in was via the Royal Canadian Air Force. Canada may have been freezing cold but it was considered to be a warm and tolerant place for prospective black servicemen.

Billy Strachan couldn’t get into the RAF, so he sold his trumpet and used the money to pay his own passage to travel through U-boat-infested seas to London. He arrived at Adastral House in Holborn and declared his desire to join the RAF. The corporal at the door told him to “piss off.”

Happily however, an officer walked past who turned out to be rather more welcoming. He asked Strachan where he was from, to which Strachan replied “I’m from Kingston.”

“Lovely, I’m from Richmond” beamed the officer.

Strachan explained that he meant Kingston, Jamaica.

Shortly after that, he was training for aircrew.”

He went on to do a tour as a navigator in Bomber Command, then retrained as a pilot and flew with the 96th squadron.” (20)

See this link for the full story.

There were black fighter pilots in the RAF as shown in the links above. Not only that there were women of colour as well, such as Lilian Bader who joined the WAAF and Noor Inayat Khan who was one of the Special Operations Executive’s top agents in France. (21)

This is not to say that there wasn’t discrimination against people of colour in Canada and Britain. There certain were as the websites quoted here show.

But the racism was not as bad or as extreme as it was in the United States. People of colour could fill high ranking and highly visible prominent positions in the Second World War as shown in this article here. (22)

So this is a route that Kinch, Baker and the other black POWs could have taken to Stalag 13. Sneaking across the border, getting fake papers, training in Canada and then heading to Britain.

One of the holes in this possible theory is the issue of their uniforms. Unlike the American pilots who were white the black Americans pilots (if there were any) would not have been have been given equivalent rank in the USAAF or even been allowed to fly in the Eagle Squadrons once they were transferred to the USAAF. America was adamant on segregation, as shown here, (23) something that caused extreme tension in Britain.

While there was racism in Britain towards people of colour the racial hatred demonstrated towards black servicemen by the American G.I.s came as a shock to the British population. (24)

Hogan could have protested segregation all he wanted, demanded Kinch be allowed to fly until he was blue in the face (assuming he and Kinch did know each other as implied in “Prince of the Phone Company” episode).

Kinch: “Hogan?” Hogan: “Robert. Hogan.” Kinch: “Ha Ha! Of course! I went to school with this man in America.”

The Americans would not allow an integrated air force. At best Kinch and the other black pilots would have been sent back to the States to join the Tuskegee airmen.

At this point there are two routes open for Kinch and the other black POWs to have been in Stalag 13 in time to help Hogan start his operation. One, they had been shot down prior to the arrival of the 8th Army USAAF in Britain by 12 May 1942.

The second option is that they remained with the RAF instead of transferring to the USAAF. As this article point out some of the Eagle Squadron members decided to remain with the RAF instead of transferring to the USAAF. (25)

So my theory for a possible route could work for Kinch as well as for Hogan. They could have both snuck into Canada as civilians, got official training and then joined the RAF. Hogan joined bomber command and gained his reputation as a war ace and tactician then joined the USAAF after America entered the war. Kinch was either shot down on a mission just before 12 May 1942 or remained with the RAF and was shot down later. Hogan flew several more missions until Bienderbender overwhelmed him. The Red Cross would have notified Britain about Kinch and the others and Britain in turn would have notified the US who in turn would have had the American Red Cross send the black POWs American uniforms.

This may have led to a reduction in rank for Kinch. The role of navigator (originally titled observer in the RAF) which he fills in “Hogan throws a birthday party”,

was usually filled by commissioned officer, see link (26), but could hold any rank from airman second class to Group Captain. The rank of flight sergeant in the RAF is the equivalent of a Master Sergeant in the USAAF. But if Kinch held a rank higher than that (which seems likely given the skill and high level of responsibility) then his being a sergeant in Stalag 13 would have meant a reduction in rank.

But as I said, this is just speculation on my part in an attempt to try and put the canon of Hogan’s Heroes into something that fits the actual historical timeline. I freely admit that there are holes in my theory.

Which is why I’m saying that this theory of mine is put forward as a possible alternative route that Hogan, Kinch and the other black POWs could have taken to get to Stalag 13 and leave them enough time for them to do all that they did and I hope it stimulates discussion and thought and (not to sound like I’m getting on a soap box here but I love research) a desire to research World War 2 for interest in the subject. Certainly that is what Hogan’s Heroes did for me.

Sources

1. World War II Database: https://m.ww2db.com/event/today/05/12/1942

2. History.net: https://www.historynet.com/first-usaac-raf-joint-combat-mission-july-4th-1942.htm

3. World War II today: https://ww2today.com/17th-august-1942-the-usaaf-makes-its-first-raid-on-occupied-europe

4. Bombing of Bremen in World War II: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombing_of_Bremen_in_World_War_II

5. World War II Database: https://ww2db.com/aircraft_spec.php?aircraft_model_id=4 \

6. Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-British_personnel_in_the_RAF_during_the_Battle_of_Britain#United_States

7. Warfare History Network: https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/2017/01/18/americans-in-the-royal-air-force/

8. Royal Air Force Museum: https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/research/online-exhibitions/americans-in-the-royal-air-force/eagle-squadrons/

9. WWII: The Complete War Report. Directed by Various. Mill Creek Entertainment. 2017

10. Not Even Past: https://notevenpast.org/inching-towards-war-military-preparedness-in-the-1930s/

11. National World War II Museum: https://www.nationalww2museum.org/students-teachers/student-resources/research-starters/research-starters-us-military-numbers

12. The US Army Airforces in World War 2: https://media.defense.gov/2010/Nov/05/2001329898/-1/-1/0/aaf_wwii-v1-2.pdf (pages 85 & 142)

13. Teaching American History: https://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/radio-address-delivered-by-president-roosevelt-from-washington/

14. Wikipedia: Eagle Squadrons: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eagle_Squadrons

15. Britannica.com: https://www.britannica.com/event/Battle-of-Britain-European-history-1940

16. 142nd wing : https://www.142fw.ang.af.mil/News/Article-Display/Article/1211286/redhawk-reflections-on-the-first-american-mission-in-europe-1942/

17. Tuskegee Airman: https://www.tuskegee.edu/Content/Uploads/Tuskegee/files/TUSKEGEE_AIRMEN_CHRONOLOGY12.2011.pdf (page 9)

18. Historyhit.com: https://www.historyhit.com/was-the-raf-especially-receptive-to-black-servicemen-in-world-war-two/

19. CBC.ca: https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/black-canadians-second-world-war-1.5793974

20. Historyhit.com: Was the RAF Especially Receptive to Black Servicemen in World War Two? | History Hit

21. Second World War Experience Centre: https://war-experience.org/lives/noor-inayat-khan-soe/

22. Royal Air Force Musuem: https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/research/online-exhibitions/pilots-of-the-caribbean/across-the-commands/

23. Royal Air Force Museum: https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/research/online-exhibitions/pilots-of-the-caribbean/answering-the-call/the-second-world-war-1939-to-1945-segregation/

24. Theconversation.com: https://theconversation.com/black-troops-were-welcome-in-britain-but-jim-crow-wasnt-the-race-riot-of-one-night-in-june-1943-98120

25. The National Interest: https://nationalinterest.org/blog/reboot/these-americans-flew-royal-air-force-during-world-war-ii-168713

26. Wikipedia: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_Bomber_Command_aircrew_of_World_War_II

#Hogan's Heroes #Colonel Robert Hogan #Sargeant James Kinchlow #Colonel Klink #World War 2 #World War 2 timeline #racism #segregation #Nazi Germany #RAF #USAAF

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michelleleisureblogs · 3 years

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Historical Facts About Two African Countries

Hidden Truth Behind Madagascar

If you’ve watched any kind of documentary, or show, or incredibly accurate cartoon depiction of “Madagascar” I’m sure you are fully aware of how unique and distinct the country is when it comes to nature. The Malagasy have quite a unique story too when it comes to the history of the people. The people of Madagascar had trade agreements with the rest of the continent of Africa during the pre-colonial times, most of their trade was with people in modern-day Mozambique, this marina rulers of Madagascar welcomed the English missionaries and soon the island had converted to the Christian faith.

This conversion to Christianity led to the modernization of Madagascar society which led to the development of schools, medical center, and industries, the Malagasy people believed that their embrace of Christianity and modernity would save them from colonialism but unfortunately, these Africans did not understand that this arm of Christianity was into empire building and not in the sole business. Fast-forward to 1884 the French army launched their attack on the Malagasy people to expand the French empire but the Malagasy people fought a good fight and the war ended in a stalemate. However, in 1895 the French came back twice as tall to burn the country down which utterly destroyed the nearest marina rulership and the wolf of French colonialism was established in place across the island. The French war brought devastation as they mutated the resources and they did not invest in infrastructural development and only split resources out to France. The Malagasy who had strived to stay independent were now French citizens or French subjects until the 1960s when they eventually won their political independence.

Evil Queen of Madagascar

Queen Ranavalona, the Mad Queen of Madagascar was responsible for the killing of 75 percent of her subjects. Whenever she questioned the loyalty of her members of the Madagascar military, she arranged a “fair” and “just” way to allow them to prove their loyalty, by simply telling them to eat three raw chicken skins, no trial, no evidence, no jury, they just have to eat three raw chicken skins to prove their loyalty to the Queen and they will be free to go. After wolfing down the first skin, followed by the second, and finally after a few nauseous gulps, the last, the raw skins slide down their throat covered in slime and they get the urge to vomit. They can’t help it and vomit two of the chicken skins and fail her test and are then pronounced guilty and sentenced to death by the Queen. A strict traditionalist, Queen Ranavalona believed in the old ways of her people and for her accession ceremony had her naked body anointed with the blood of a freshly slain bull, which was fitting for a woman who would spill the blood of millions. After which, she put the royal family to death in a variety of ways. She was responsible for the murder of several Christians, who were sometimes hung over a ravine or cliff’s edge with ropes, and left there without food and water, while their friends and family would be forced to watch until at last the ropes frayed and sent the condemned to their quick death on the rocks below.

Incredible Facts about Madagascar

According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, almost one in ten Malagasies smoke weed, which’s a higher percentage than they do in the Netherlands, making it an ideal place (to avoid) when looking for a good vacation.

The North-Eastern part of Madagascar is known to produce close to 80% of the world’s vanilla, which is one of the most expensive flavours. A kind of large wrap made of various kinds of fabrics in patterns and colours usually worn by the Malagasy people.

The behaviour of the Malagasy people is seriously governed by thousands of cultural taboos, or fady, many of which include no funerals or farming on Tuesdays, no use of shovels with firm handles to bury the dead, or no eating of eels and goats.

It has become one of the most recent countries to abolish capital punishment but surprisingly is still the 14th least happy country according to the World Happiness Report.

Despite the poverty, Madagascar is home to some top-notch luxurious tourist sites and spas. Start saving up though, doubles cost from £3,220 a night.

Lamba is a traditional garment worn by Malagasies, both men and women.

Bare-knuckle fighting, called moraingy, is a very popular sport throughout the island, as well as in Reunion, 300 miles to the east.

TANZANIA; BEYOND TANGA IN THE LAND OF THE BLACKS

Tanzania, a well-known East African country, home to the tallest mountain in Africa, Mount Kilimanjaro, was formed in 1964 as Tanganyika united with Zanzibar to form the United Republic of Tanganyika and Zanzibar, then after 6 months, it was changed to Tanzania. But before we take a journey about Tanzania let’s talk a bit about Tanganyika and Zanzibar.

Tanganyika, a geographical entity that comprises a large part of the mainland of Tanzania was a sovereign state from 1961 to 1964. During the 1880s, the German colonists took over the area and in 1891 was declared a protectorate as part of German East Africa. After World-War I, Britain took over the protectorate and gave it the name Tanganyika under the league-of nations mandate in 1922 which means “what is beyond Tanga”, later it was turned into a United Nations Trust Territory after World War II due to its wonderful qualities in its geography, topography, climate, geopolitics, etc. Interesting to note, Tanganyika was instrumental in World war II as 100, 000 People joined the Allied Forces (Countries that opposed the Axis powers during world war II) and also were part of the 375,000 British colonial troops who fought against Germany and Japan. In 1957, there only 15 towns with over 5000 inhabitants with the former capital of Tanzania having the highest population at the time of more than 125,000 people. During this time, the British had a problem which was the Tanganyika’s ethnic and economic makeup which created issues for them in as much they had a policy which was focused on the continuation of the European presence but they still had to be responsive to the political demands of the Africans there. On route to independence, five UN missions visited the country and received hundreds of written petitions as well as oral presentations made in New York City. All these as the Africans who used the UN to achieve their purposes were key in driving the country towards independence. And in 1961, Tanganyika became an independent state. Now to our neighbor, Zanzibar

Zanzibar, an island located in the Indian Ocean off the east coast of Africa. Interesting to note Zanzibar means land of the blacks. Going as far back as the 16th century, the island was under the domination of the Portuguese but was taken over by Omani Arabs in the 18th century. After taking over, Sultan Seyyid decided to move his capital from Muscat (which is the most populated and popular city in Oman) to Zanzibar. This decision made the island to be at the center of trade for spices. Did you know that in the early 20th century, the island produced nearly 90% of the world’s supply of Spices. Also, the island became a major transit point for the slave trade in the Indian Ocean. But as you know, “When men have ambition, with no limit, they fall”, this is exactly what happened to the Oman Empire, in 1890, the island became a British protectorate. Although it was a British Protectorate, the British ruled through the sultan. Zanzibar, on the path to independence, got theirs from the United Kingdom in 1963, making the nation to be a Constitutional monarchy ruled by its Sultan. Then in 1964, there was a revolt against the sultan, and a new government was formed with Abeid Karume, who was the president and chairman of the Revolutionary Council. During the few days of revolt known as the Zanzibar Revolution, thousands of people lost their lives, comprising mostly Arabs and Indians. Also during this time, the Tanganyika army took part in the revolt then Julius Kambarage Nyerere who was a Tanzanian anti-colonial activist asked Britain to send troops. The troops came ashore from aircraft carriers. The troops’ operations were successful in the disbanding of the military, after the whole operation, the Britain troops left and were replaced with Canadian troops. After some time, on 26th April 1964 Zanzibar united with Tanganyika to form the United Republic of Tanganyika and Zanzibar which is also Tanzania.

Now that we have a clearer view of Tanzania, we can have a touch of its history. After the union of the two states, the two ruling parties in each state merged to form the Chama cha Mapinduzi Revolutionary Party in 1977. The merge occurred due to the belief of Nyerere which was that, multiple political parties, in a nation with diverse or multiple ethnic groups won’t support national unity but will jeopardize it. Also, to promote unity he established Kiswahili as the national language. As time went by, every sector of the state expanded rapidly and nationalizations transformed the government into the largest employer in the country as it was involved in all aspects from retailing to trade to banking thereby making the stage set for corruption. As more complex bureaucratic procedures evolved and a huge increase in tax rates set by officials caused harm to the economy, enormous amounts of public funds were misappropriated and put to ineffective use and the purchasing power continued to decline at a fast rate which all lead to a decline in the economy.

On 19th March 2021, following the sudden death of John Magufuli, Vice President Samia Suluhu Hassan became the new president. Still, being the Unitary Presidential Democratic Republic, Tanzania hopes to progress in the oneness of people, in heart and mind.

References

Anon., 2020. Most Evil Queen - Killed 75% Of Her Subjects. [Online] Available at: https://www.voicetube.com/v3/videos/141662 [Accessed 17 March 2021].

Chiteji, F. M. ,. B. D. F. ,. M. A. C. a. I. K., 2021. "Tanzania". Encyclopedia Britannica. [Online] Available at: https://www.britannica.com/place/Tanzania [Accessed 19 March 2021].

GONCHAR, M., 2019. The New York Times. [Online] Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/02/25/learning/25MadagascarGeographyQuiz.html [Accessed 19 March 2021].

Authors:

Moronkeji AgbaraOluwa

Nemieboka Boma

Ilechukwu Michelle

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scorpiosoes · 4 years

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Friends

Hello internet peoples, I was recently given a writing assignment in my history course and wanted to share the resulting work. I am also including the assignment prompt in case someone else feels inspired to writing something.

Prompt: Assume the role of a fictional character either living during, or perhaps fighting, the Second World War-what might it have been like for a Polish citizen in 1939 during the German blitzkrieg, a Jewish inmate surviving in a Nazi death camp, a British pilot during the air war over London, a member of the French resistance during the Nazi occupation or perhaps an American in the midst of the Ardennes offensive.

The title I gave to the assignment was Friends, hope you like it and if you see this feel free to leave thoughts or criticism, always looking to improve.

Friends

Do I regret what I did? Others like me would say no, but I would say that I do, with every fiber of my being I regret it. I was seduced by power, fame, and glory and could no longer tell right from wrong. What we did was wrong, what happened to the world was wrong, my hands will forever be soaked in the blood of millions of innocent lives for the part I played.

It had started subtly at first, propaganda posters started popping up everywhere, there were ads run in the newspapers and the media. They were printing and spreading blatant racist lies, I wish that where was it stopped, where we stopped. But we didn’t and before I knew it turned into something worse than anyone could have ever imagined, and millions of people were dead.

“But why?” It was one the first questions that I remember asking my mother; this is also the moment that I mark as the start of one of the worst periods in Germany, in the world, and in my own life. “But why?” It was the first question that I had asked my mother the day that she had hunted my down and demanded that I stop playing with my childhood best friend, I didn’t understand it then but things had started to change, and not for the better. “A good German boy like you should not be playing with the likes of him. He’s unclean,” those words made no sense to me as a child, he didn’t look dirty to me, he looked like he always had, his curtain of black curls partially covered his face and his brown eyes glinted in the sunlight. But my mother still pulled me away from him, that was the last time I ever played with Avi … or saw him ever again. Things were changing rapidly I was just too young to know it, I was innocent in the way that children are, blind to the politics and prejudices of the world, I didn’t know what she meant when she said that Avi was unclean. When asked about it sometime later she never elaborated, I never questioned it after that I imagined that my mother had her reasons. It was not until much later that I realized why she never told me. Avi was a Jew.

In the meantime, war came and went, the Great War as it was called at the time. It was fought because of rising international tensions between nations and because of an assassination that threw the world into chaos. It was the war that claimed my father’s life and nearly claimed my own. Germany had been in the war, of course, we were we had allies to help and we kept our word and helped them. This was a mistake. The consequences of Germany’s interference in the way came swiftly and without mercy. They were unfair to both Germany and her people; I shared this opinion with anyone who would listen. Many agreed of course, but none listened with as much fervor as a man I had recently met in the army, this man and I became close and I began to call him a friend. This man was Adolf Hitler, at the time I had met him I had never known a better man. We joked, laughed, and conspired together.

One day Adolf came to me and urged me to join him at an event he was attending, I didn’t refuse the invitation. It was a meeting, more like a rally really, for a group called National Socialist German Workers’ Party, these people shared my views, so I joined almost immediately. I deeply regret this decision; these people were the people that would come to be known throughout the world as Nazis.

Adolf was far more ambitious than I was, and he spoke more passionately about the issues facing Germany; he also pushed more and more people to join our ever-growing party. Because of this, the party insisted that he become its leader, and Adolf insisted that I be by his side. At the time I thought it was a great honor, I was moving up in the ranks and was granted more power. I didn’t consider what this meant for everyone that wasn’t the Nazis. Later, by a crazy stroke of luck, the Nazis were steadily seizing power, and Adolf and I were the two highest-ranking members in the party. Our power grew still, however, when Adolf Hitler was named chancellor of Germany. This when things went from bad to worse.

Adolf came to his inner circle one day and said that something was to be done about his enemies, his political opponents, and the Jews and communists. I was the first to suggest banishment from Germany, if they were no longer in the country, they would no longer be our problem. He like that idea, but he didn’t want to afflict the Jews upon someone else. “A prison then,” I suggested to him. Somewhere where opponents and communists would no longer be an issue. “An inescapable camp that houses prisoners and Jews,” that was exactly how the man sitting across from me, Heinrich Himmler, pitched the idea. Adolf loved the whole concept, we later decided to call these places concentration camps. At first, it was just for political prisoners and communists, we could keep an eye on them, and they couldn’t spread their disease. That didn’t last long; it quickly became a death camp for anyone who was sent there. This is when I started to have doubts about what we were doing, we had been spouting this rhetoric, but I never thought that we would end up in a position to act upon it. Now that we had I didn’t think that I had to the stomach for it. I remained silent and faithful to my friend.

Soon we had taken the whole of Germany and parts of other countries like Austria. I thought we were going to stop, the Jews and communists and any other who would stand up to us had been thoroughly crushed under our feet and we ruled the nation. However, Adolf was ambitious, he wasn’t satisfied with just Germany. He began to talk of bigger things, things like freeing the world, not just Germany, from the Jewish plague and spreading Nazi influence. I mean we had rounded up a majority of the Jews and put them into concentration camps, we had also crushed anyone who dared oppose us, what more could he want. The world seemed to be the answer. I asked him outright if he was sure, we already had Germany and various other countries; the world sounded a bit too ambitious to me, but he questioned my faith and asked where my loyalties lie. With my friend, of course, but faith was starting to waver, I was starting to find out that I didn’t have the stomach for some of the things Adolf wanted.

All of a sudden, we were at war, I warned Adolf that he was being too ambitious, but he did not listen, now he had gone too far. Other countries had gotten involved and instead of dominance, we were now fighting for survival. I thought that The Great War was bad, the war that followed Adolf’s takeover of Poland was a bloodbath, millions were dying daily to gain barely any ground. Millions of people were laying down their lives to try and stop the thing that my friend had become, I wish that I could do the same. I was blinded by my loyalty and our relationship; he was my oldest friend and I watched with complacency as he became one of the worst serial killers the world would ever come to know. I too had a part to play in all of this, I encouraged him in the early days and I stood silently by as things went from bad to worse, during this time I had many chances to stop him, to end the war early and I took none of them. I tried once, I intended to kill him, I had the gun to his head, but I could not pull the trigger. It did not matter; we would not be alive for much longer.

The might of Germany had been tested and exhausted, the 1000-year Reich was crumbling around us and yet people still remained hopeful that we could win this war that we had been losing for the past couple of months. This was the end, everyone knew it, Adolf most of all. Our last conversation happened in his bunker, a place that he seldom left these days. He asked to speak to me. He said that he was sorry for what he had put me through, but that he wouldn’t apologize for what he, we, had done. I got to be part of something great. We had changed the world, if only for a moment. Shortly following this meeting Adolf took his own life he had taken a cyanide pill and then shot himself.

It’s bittersweet news, look at what we have done, we held an entire nation in the palms of our hands, but at what cost. Look at what it cost to get us here, we slaughtered people because they were different than us. Looking back on it now, in my final moments, I don’t know if I agreed with the anti-Jew messages or if I was just trying to find the easiest way to get revenge for Germany’s mistreatment all those years ago. It’s funny looking back at it now, my first friend, my best friend in the entire world was Jewish and now I have unreservedly slaughtered his people. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I pray to his God, to Avi’s God that he has mercy on my damned soul.

#writers #writing prompt #history #world war 2 #assignment #college #writer

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britishguy2003 · 4 years

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THE NEW ARRIVAL-A MINECRAFT STORY MODE FANFICTION

After The New Order of The Stone defeated Romeo also known, Beacontown has now been restored. With the leadership of The Town's 'Hero of Residence' Jesse and his Friends, the Town is now back into its origin as a peaceful town for its Citizen

But then, a New kind of Evil emerges from the other Dimension. This new kind of Enemy had already taken over the Eastern Territory of the Overworld. They are known as "The Axis'. They even threatened to invade Beacontown and conquer the overworld

Jesse and his Friends, meet a Group of Resistance group seperated from their Army who also comes from the dimension where the Nazis emerges as they fought together alongside their allies against this new threat

Will they be able to defeat this threat and bring justice and peace to the world or Will they destined to be defeated and heel to this threat? Find out in 'The New Arrival'

THE UNITED ALLIANCE

BRIEF HISTORY

The United Alliance or famously called the Allies is a Democratic Military Alliance consisted of Federal, Liberal, Capitalist, and Democratic Countries that bands together to fight the Axis Forces in 1960 after the defeat of their Predecessor, the Democratic Allies. This Alliance is formed when the Germans and it's Allies, the Axis Forces conquered the Earth. The Allies escaped their own world using a newly invented a Portal that was invented by British scientists. When they got transported to Minecraft world, they're scattered. They don't know where's each other so they just went through it. At first, they thought that they're safe here and rebuild their own nations here. But suddenly, the Germans and its Allies, the new Axis Power arrived in Minecraft World

THE COUNTRIES

1.) THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, A Democratic Capitalism-Liberal Country that was formed in 1776 after the American Patriots and French Troops defeated the British in the siege of Yorktown. It's one of the Alliance's major combatants in the war. USA is governed by a President with the Senate of the Republic along with vice president. Its military is consisted of three main branch: US Army, US Navy, and US Air Force

2.) GREAT BRITAIN AND IT'S EMPIRE, A Constitutional Monarchy and World Wide Imperial power that was formed after the English Civil War in 1648 three act of Union between the Kingdom of England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland in the 19th Century. It's one of the Alliance's major combatants in the war. Great Britain along with it's Colony is governed by a King/Queen with the Prime Minister along with the Dukes of Wellington. Its military is divided into 6 Aerial Military branches: the British Armed Forces for mainland Great Britain. the ANZAC Forces for Australia and New Zealand, the Indian Armed Forces for India, the Canadian Armed Forces for Canada, Middle East Forces for British Territory in the Middle East, and the South African Forces for South Africa. Its Military is divided into 3 Military branches which were the Army, the Navy, and the Air Force but the main branches are the British Army, the Royal Navy, the Royal Air Force

3.) SOVIET UNION (SOVETSKIY SOYUZ), A Single-Party Communist and Socialist Country that was formed in 1919 after the victory of the Bolsheviks against the Republicans in the Russian Civil War. It's one of the Alliance's major combatants in the war. Soviet Union is governed by a Secretary of the Communist Party and a Premier. Its military is consisted of three main branches: the Red Army (Armiya), the Red Navy (Flot), and the Red Air Force (Vozdushnyye Sily)

4.) FREE FRENCH REPUBLIC (REPUBLIQUE FRANCAISE LIBRE), A Democratic Liberal Country that was formed in 1940 after the Germans invaded France in 1940 and occupied France. It has its Fascist Counterpart which is the Vichy France. the Free French is governed by a President along with the vice president and prime minister. Its military is consisted of three main branches: FFI Army (La Armée), FFI Navy (La Marine), and FFI Air Force (La Aviation)

5.) KINGDOM OF ITALY (REGNO D'ITALIA), A Constitutional Monarchy that was formed after the Italian War of Independence against the Austrians in 1848 and unification in 1870. It has its Fascist Counterpart which is the Socialist Republic of Italy. the Italian Kingdom is governed by a King/Queen with Prime Minister and the Dukes of Aosta. Its military is consisted of three main branches: the Royal Italian Army (Regina Esecirto), the Royal Italian Navy (Regina Marina), and the Royal Italian Air Force (Regina Avizione)

6.) UNITED CHINA (Zhōngguó liánhé), a Multi-Party Democratic Country that was formed in 1945 after the Japanese invaded North China in 1945 as all political forms in China (Nationalist, Communist, Warlords) banded together as one, forming the United China. China is governed by a Generalissimo and a Premier. Its military is consisted of three main branches: the United Army (Jūnduì), the United Navy (Hǎijūn), and the United Air Force (Kōngjūn)

THE AXIS ORDER

BRIEF HISTORY

The Axis Order is a Military Alliance Order formed by Fascist and Totaliterist Country to oppose the United Alliance. It was formed after the victory of their Predecessor, The Axis Tripartite against the Allied Forces. The Axis Order is mostly dominated by Fascist Ideology which means that their Alliances are stronger than their Democratic Counterpart, The United Alliance. After the German's last military campaign against the remaining Allied Forces in Scotland, they found zero Allied Troops. They're gone nowhere. Then they found the Transportation device. the Germans concluded that the Allied Forces has escaped through the portal to an unknown world. The Axis high command decided to pursue the Allies and wipe out their remnants. They're afraid that the Allies might return with stronger numbers and highly advanced weaponry to free Earth from their regime

THE COUNTRIES

1.) NAZI GERMANY THE THIRD REICH (DAS DRITTE REICH DER DEUTSCHLAND), a Fascist Socialist Country that was formed in 1933 after the NSDAP won the General Election and took over the Government when Adolf Hitler was elected as Chancellor. It's one of the major combatants of the Axis. Germany is governed by a Fuhrer and a Chancellor. Its military is consisted of three main branch: Wechramt (Army), Kriegsmarine (Navy), and Luftwaffe (Air Force)

2.) IMPERIAL JAPANESE EMPIRE (Teikoku Nihon), a Traditional Imperial Power and a Fascist Monarchy that was formed in 1868 after the Meiji Restoration. It's one of the major combatants of the Axis. Japan is governed by an Emperor and a Prime Minister. Its military is consisted of three main branch: the Imperial Army (Gun), the Imperial Navy (Kaigun), and the Imperial Air Force (Kūgun)

3.) SOCIALIST REPUBLIC OF ITALY (REPUBBLICA SOCIALISTA D'ITALIA), a Fascist Socialist Country that was formed after the rescue of Duce Benito Mussolini in 1944 from the Royalist and the Allies. Fascist Italy is governed by a Duce and a Prime Minister. Its military is consisted of three main branch: Black Shirts (Army), Red Shirts (Navy), and White Shirts (Air Force)

4.) FINNISH SOCIALIST REPUBLIC (SUOMEN SOSIALISTINEN TASAVALTA), a Socialist Independent Country that was formed in 1941 after the Winter War against the Soviet Union and the election of Mannerheim as the Supreme Leader. Finland is governed by a Supreme Leader and General Secretary. Its military is consisted of three main branches: the Army (Armeija), the Navy (Laivasto), the Air Force (Ilmavoimat)

5.) FRANCOIST SPAIN (ESPAÑA FRANCESA), a Socialist Dictatorial Country that was formed in 1930 after the victory of Francoists in the Spanish Civil War against the Republicans. Spain is governed by a Caudillo and a Prime Minister. Its Military is consisted of three main branches: the Army (Ejército), the Navy (Armada), and the Air Force (Fuerza Aerea)

Chapter 1: Awkward Situation

(M.Jesse POV)

I was in Beacontown after the Disaster that the Admin aka Romeo caused. Everyone were rebuilding their homes or the other facilities. After all that, i invited Jack and Nurm to join the new order of the stone and they accepted it gratefully. another new thing to one of my friend who was also my former enemy and former member of the old order, Ivor... He's apparently a ninja now (also he almost killed me). with that ninja suit and diamond katana, he's kinda awesome. Although Alchemist and Ninjas are kind of a weird skill combination but a deadly one too. Lukas was also helping Beacontown's peoples to rebuilt their home, my sister Jess, assisted him on that task too so that he'll have his job easier

I was standing outside the order's temple on it's outside garden, watching Beacontown. That's when Petra come to the temple and walked to me

"Hey, Jesse!" Petra said calling me and waving at me

"Oh! Hey, Petra. What's up?" I replied, waving at her

"Nah, I was going to buy some Materials for Lukas and Jess for the Renovation Project" Petra said, she placed her hands on her hips "So...Everything's okay?" Petra asked

"Yeah,it's fine. I mean Look at all this!" I exclaimed gesturing the Town, she looked at the direction i gestured "Everything's back to the way it is" i sighed happily

"Yeah, you're doing great job Mr-um...Mayor" Petra joked, grinning

"Ha Ha Very Funy. And please don't call me 'Mayor'!" i said sarcasticly

"Yeah sure, why not huh?" Petra said, chuckling "Romeo got his redemption chance, went to find Xara, and everything's back to normal" i said

"Heh, i actually got bad felling that he will make up with Xara in a 'not easy way' since she was acting so much like a...Lunatic" Petra said, chuckling

"Yeah, me too" i said, chuckling. Petra then looking at the skies

"Oh yeah, i have to go! Job Calling! later, Jesse!" Petra said waving at me as she turned away from me

Petra was about to walk away from the garden and on that time she didn't realize there are banana skin on the ground. She slipped on it and She start yelling 'Gah!'. At that time, i ran to her side and quickly caught her in my arm. Thats when Petra opened her eyes. I realized that we're both are blushing and gazing at each other in the eyes

At the same time, Radar comes out from the temple. He was looking at the job list i gave him. He didn't realized that we were in front of him until

"Asking anyone that in need for suplies-check! Checking facility dama-whoa!" Radar said, surprised when he looked up from the job list and looked at US "I gu-guess i i- i should leave you two a-alone. So-sorry boss!". He quickly left the garden and going off to do his Jobs

After that i released Petra to let her stand on her feet

"So-sorry about that" i said blushing with averted eyees

"No, it's fine. i have to go!" Petra said, blushing too. She then leave the garden quicklu. i cleared my thoughts from the early event as i quickly walking away from the Garden and heading towards Ivor's lava pad. I remembered that he had something to tell

It was the most embarassing thing in my life. But, i have to admit that i have a crush on her for a very long time. but you know what? if theres another thing, my sister even had a crush on Lukas. I always teased her with Lukas and she always teased me back with Petra. I wonder when Lukas will get her

When i was on the way to Ivor's Lava Pad, i Saw six odd looking peoples wearing Brown Hoods. They're carrying some sort of weird weapons that i couldn't describe. They looked really suspicious. I don't like it, at all. But, nah... Must be usual weird Beacontowners who had their own weird but awesome styles and creativities. I ignored them as i continued to walk towards Ivor's lava pad

After a short walk towards Ivor's lava pad, i finally arrived at Ivor's lava Pad. I climbed the ladder and knocked the door 3 times. Then i heard someone from inside the Door

"Coming!" the voice said which is Ivor's voice. Then the door opened to reveal a Man with Ninja style Black Hair and Beard and in his usual Alchemist Clothing/Order of the Stone clothing not his Ninja outfit

"Jesse! Glad you could Made it here!"

Chapter 2: Ivor's Intel

{M.Jesse POV}

"Jesse! You're here" Ivor's said happily when he opened the door

"Yeah, Hi Ivor!" I greet him, waving at him

"Hey! Come on in, Jesse!" He said as gestured for me to come in as we head inside the Pad's Living room

Then we sat on the living room Chairs. I don't know what's so important that he call me to his Lava Pad. But i think it's something very important. Maybe? I dunno

"So, Ivor what is it?" I asked him

"Oh, Okay. Straight to the point ey? I just got a juicy report from my informant that theres something suspicios and new on the eastern area of the town. Its looks a lot like a Huge City, but it looks bigger and wider than Beacontown or Champion city combined. That city looks like it had so many advanced and unknown technology different from the redstone system because the City itself was powered by some sort of Incredible powe source that wasn't found in this world and apparently they're a new existence" Ivor explained to me. Hmmm, that's odd, i don't remember that theres a City or Something else on the East. All i remember on the East was Romeo's ice palace. Grrr, that Place gives me the Breeze

"Wait! I thought Theres nothing in the east except Romeo's palace" I said to him. He chuckled as he slumped back on his seat

"Hah! Told you! Odd isnt it?" Ivor suddenly exclaimed. I nod my head. Is there any more info from Ivor about this so called 'city'? Well, i guess i had to find out

"Okay, are there any more information ?" I asked him again. He clasped his hands together and then continued

"Okay! from what i suspect that Civilization in there is not a very friendly civilization that you usually live on" Ivor said a little creepy

"What do you mean with 'not very friendly', Ivor? " I asked him, confused. Wait, did he means that this City are full of Criminals? Theres no way one huge city are filled with Criminals right? That was the craziest thing that i've ever heard in my life

"Well, in there... Lots of the City's Population were armed with some sort of Weapons" Ivor explained again

"What kind of weapons?" I asked him. Now i'm really curious

"I'm not sure. The weapons looked like some sort of combination of iron and Wood. This weapon work like bow but this weapon work is very simple from what" Ivor informed, stroking his beard

"Wait a minute, i saw some odd looking Peoples brought the exact weapon that you mentioned" i told him. Ivor just blinked

"You Saw someone with that kind of weapons?" Ivor asked, blankly

"Yes, right in front of the Beacon Shop"i told him

"Hmm, well my friend, i think we need to do some Investigation. We don't wanted any invited guest to come and obelirate us" Ivor suggested. I chuckled at him

"Maybe you're right. I will tell Radar to hire Four Volunteers for the scout" i said

"Thats a good idea" Ivor commented

{No one's POV}

While M.Jesse and Ivor talking, The mysterious group that was standing outside the Beacon Shop earlier opened their cloak to reveal middle aged mens wearing Red Berrets are watching from long distance with a Binoculatar. The group then went to report the conversations to their leader. The group packed their Gears back and went for their boss place

"They'll figured out who will they opposed"

{Female Jesse's POV}

I was in the garden looking at the view. It was a beautiful and calm around here. The wind blows calmly, the Parrots are chirping, and the various kinds plants fills the garden. When i was there, i couldn't help but think of someone, Lukas. He's helping the peoples of Beacontoen to rebuilt the town since he was the expert of Buildings. After the incident with Romeo, My Brother have been rebuilding the town with the help of Lukas while he was writing his revisions book. At that time i was starring at the sun, i was thinking about him. What is this feelings? I'm sooo confused. And then something i didnt expect happpened, Lukas walking from the back of the garden towards me

"Hey, Jesse!" Lukas said greeting me

"Oh, hi Lukas! Uhhh, what are you doing here?" I said, greeting him

"Nothing, just you know. Checking on you"Lukas said, trying to play it cool

"Oh, i'm fine, Lukas. Thanks for asking though" I said smiling at him

"Nah, it always nice to see you smile" He said smiling back. Okay, that was sweet of him...wait what!?

"Yeah..... By the way, do you know wheres my brother?" I asked him. Changing the Topic and i really do curious what's my brother doing during this time

"He's with Ivor. Discussing about something. It must be important that he only called Jesse"he answered

"I wonder what are they discussing about looking at the sky"i said

"Yeah, me neither" Lukas replied, patting his back

"So Lukas, you wanna sit here?" Invited him to take the empty seat next to me. He smiled

"Oh sure sure" he said as he sits next to me

"Its a wonderful day today, huh?" he said looked at the sky

"Yeah it is" i said, looking at the sky too

"Your brother knows how to make this town fired up and full of joy" Lukas said

"Yeah, he's the best brother that anyone could have" i said

"Its good to have a brother, Huh?" Lukas asked me

"Yeah, it is" i said. then i frowned remembering how annoying is my Brother "but, sometimes he's really annoying" i muttered

"Well, He's your Brother" Lukas said, chuckling. i sighed

"You're right" I said, with a nervous grin

At that time i felt like we gazed at each other's eyes. Its kinda awkward. I felt like we're gazing at each other for about minutes before SOMEONE startled us by yelling at us

"Ahem, So lovebirds!" A voice that we all know and recognized yelled at us, making us startled. we looked away from each Petra who's smirking upon us

"Petra!!!" I exclaimed in shock and embaresment as blushed. When i looked at Lukas, somehow he was blushing too but he glanced away his gaze from me

"Hehehehe sorry, Lovebirds" Petra teased. Okay, this is really embarrasing. Petra... WHY!?

Chapter 3: Embarrassing Interruption

{Petra's POV}

Man! i really made Lukas and F.Jesse embarassed. They both are blushing like mad right now because of my sudden appearance. They both are gazing at each other and i kinda wanna to tease them again. I laughed soo hard from their embarasment until i apologized at them

"Hahahaha, okay okay i'm sorry" i apologized to them even though i'm still laughing

"Apology accepted" Female Jesse sighed, still blushing a little

"Ummm, girls. By the way i need to go back to my shack. I need to rewrite my book. Later you girls!" Lukas said still blushing as he walked away

"Uh, okay. Later!" F.Jesse said as she waved at him. When he's out of our sight, i walked up to her

"So how's you doing Miss.Vice Mayor?" I said, smirking. While nudging her shoulder

"Petra, please don't do that again" F.Jesse said, huffed

"Pffft, fine. Jack and Nurm calling your brother. Did you see him?" I asked her

"Oh, yeah. My brother now is with Ivor. They both are in Ivor's lava pad" F.Jesse answered her

"Ivor? Oh man, what is he doing with your brother by the way?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips. F!Jesse shrugs

"I don't know, but it seems important. Thats why he called my brother" F.Jesse said

"Yes, i think so. But hey! let's eat. I bought twelve pumpkin pie" I said with pulling out twelve pumpkin pie that i prepared for everyone that i brought earlier in the Bakery

"Yeah, i will wait for my brother and Lukas to arrive her. You can go inside first" F.Jesse told me. I nod

"Oh,okay then. I'll go inside first" i said as i walked inside to the temple's dining room. I sit on the nearest chair and i place the pie on the table. I'm gonna wait everyone to be here so we can eat them together like the old times and with new some of our new found friends: Jack, Nurm, Err Stella. I looked at the picture in the dining room, the picture it was all of us the new order of the stone. The Jesse twins is in the middle, i was next to Male Jesse, Lukas was next to Female Jesse, Axel was next to Lukas, Olivia was next to me, and... Ivor is on the top of the Jesse twins. That makes me happy y'know remembering the old days

At that time, The Jesse twins and Ivor got in to the dining room.

"Hey Petra!" Male Jesse said, waving at me

"Oh, hey M.Jesse!" I said, waving at him

He sits right next to me, while Ivor sit next to Male Jesse and F.Jesse sits right next to Ivor

"Where are the others?" Ivor asked

"They'll be here just in a few minute" I said

"Lukas willl be here riding his horse. So i think he will get here earlier than the others" F.Jesse told us. We all nod in understanding

"Jack and Nurm still working for their new maps, but they said they'll will be get here soon" I told them. Earlier in Jack's podium, i saw them working on a couple of maps

"Stella still running champion city, meanwhile Axel and Olivia are walking here from Boomtown and Redstonia" M.Jesse tolds

"Okay then, we'll just wait for them..." Ivor said a little Grumpy

"Ivor, don't get too Grumpy" I responded

"Who's 'grumpy' huh?" Ivor said sarcastictly

"And... You two still holding grudge each other. Could you two please stop doing that?" F.Jesse tried to divide us. Male Jesse is only grinned

"Okay, fine. Geez" I said in a sigh

"Heh, particullary the same Petra and Ivor we know" Male Jesse said laughing

{Lukas POV}

I was at my Stable in my house. I already Prepared my horse for the ride after seeing F.Jesse and i got embarassed by Petra. We're going for a dinner today where everyone is in the temple. I quickly mount my horse, Mickey and horse raiding towards Beacontown

When i was riding towards the temple, i Saw someone in a blue hood talking with five other guys wearing the same blue hood. These... group of Strangers looks looked very suspicious cuz' they bring lots of weapon like a sword and couple of TNT with some sort of tool that was look like something i know from a book that i read before. I think it was a gun, some sort of Bow i think. But those things are super rare from what i know. How did they even got them?

I continued horse riding towards the temple in like 5 minutes and i arrived at the temple earlier. I got in to the temple and went inside the dining room. When i got in, Everyone were having conversations there. But They didn't even start eating the Foods on the table. I guess they're waiting for me huh?

"Hey, Everyone!" i greet everyone, waving my hand

"Hey Lukas!" everyone replied, waving their hands

Chapter 4: Meet n' Greet

{Lukas POV}

"Hello Everyone!" I said when i got inside the dining room

"Oh, hey Lukas!" Female Jesse said, smiling. Which makes me really nervous remembering about the previous event

"Hey Lukas, finally you Made it here! And real quick, dude" Male Jesse exclaimed

"Yeah, i rode my horse. So that's why i was here so fast" i said, scratching my back

"Blonde Guy, Long time no see!" Ivor Exclaimed, why is he still calling me like that!?

"Oh hey, Ivor" I greeted him

"Hey take a seat, writter!" Petra said gesturing to the empty seat near Female Jesse

"Okay" i said as i walk towards the empty seat to sit next to Female Jesse which makes me a little bit nervous (and of course Awkward)

"Where's everyone by the way? I didn't see em" I asked them

"Oh, They're on the way here. They just need to do some of their job quickly" Male Jesse aswered me

"Oh, okay then" I responded. I looked at the sun clock. It's already afternoon

An hours later, everyone has arrived in the room. The new members and our companion even here too. We were having a nice dinner, lots of friendships things, and conversations. But then after the dinner Male Jesse, Ivor, Jack and I were talking in the treasure room while the Girls were still in the dining room

"Well, that was some nice dinner, Jesse. Glad you invited us all" I said to M!Jesse

"Yeah, it's nice to be regrouping and assembling new member by dinner and gettin' to know each others too" Male Jesse said. I then glanced at Ivor

"Umm, Ivor why are you always wearing your Ninja suit? Even at Dinner?" I asked Ivor, Confused by why's he wearing that Outfit rather than his old Outfit. He sighed

"I already told you! from now on i'm a Ninja!" He said as he showed us some of his cool ninja moves

"Nice Moves you got there, Ivor" Jack said, giving him a thumb

"Yeah, Ivor. And please don't pull your smoke boom and throw it at us. Its stunk" Male Jesse warned him by pointing a finger at him

"Hah! I wouldn't" He said winked "Maybe" he smirked. M!Jesse looked annoyed by him but nevertheless he ignored him

"All things have changed again. Thanks to you M.Jesse, All the members reunited and we got some new members. Who knows what adventures that will comes" I said to M.Jesse

"Yep, I'm doing this for everyone" M.Jesse said, Jack smirked at him

"Ohhh, are there some love here? Because i can sniff it from here" Jack said smirking to M.Jesse. M.Jesse sighed

"Okay Jack, you got me. I have a crush on Petra. Happy?" M.Jesse said casually

"Hah! I knew it! My Ninja skill can even senses it too!" Ivor said, laughing

"Geez, please stop doing that. Don't tease M!Jesse!" I said trying to defend M.Jesse

"Okay, fine" Ivor said scratching his neck, then he turned to look serious "By the way Its time for the 'business' , M.Jesse" Ivor said changing the conversations

"Oh, yeah right! About that..." Male Jesse said, nervously

"May i ask what's this Business is?" Jack asked them both curiously. i'm also curious about this 'Business'

"Yeah, what is it?" I Asked them both, curiously

"So here what i was gonna say, We're planning for... The Order's Night off! Since we have to work hard everyday. So, why not taking a little Night off eh?" Ivor said excidetly

"Wow, thats cool" Jack said, sounding enthusiastic

"Yeah, totally" i agreed

"But, where are we going to spend our Night's off?" Jack asked them

"Oh, we're gonna watch the newest movie on Beacontown's theater" Ivor told us

"Yeah, the newest movie is all about us.'The Hero of Beacontown', that was the title of the movie" Male Jesse explained

"Thats great. All the member will be in the movie" i said, totally in for this Movie Night "Then why you didn't tell the girls?" i asked them curiously

"Yeah, why?" Jack said, curiously

"Because y'know? Girls like surprises. Obviously" Ivor answered me with a 'duh' expression

"Whoa, you got some surprises there Ivor" I complimented him

"Yeah, because i'm a Ninja now" He said. Then he looked at the Sun Clock "Oh it's good bye time! see you later at my Pad's 08.00 PM! SMOKE BOMB!" Ivor said as he dissapeared with his smoke bomb. But when the smokes are cleared, i Saw him at the exit

"Ack! You just Saw nothing..." he whispered as he sprinted like a Ninja to go back to his 'lovely' Lava Pad or so called 'Home

"Heh, the same o' Ivor but with a pinch of Ninja-ish" Male Jesse said, chuckling

"Yeah, whoo" I said, swaying away the smokes

"Welp, glad thats over with. i have to go back first to my Podium. Nurm is currently taking care of the podium while i was gone with Archie. See ya at Ivor's pad" Jack said as he waves at us

"See ya!" Male Jesse and I waved him goodbye at him as he go out the temple

"Heh, it's sure nice to make the order's having some fun huh? " I said, chuckling

"Yeah, I'm doing this for everyone" Male Jesse said

"Yeah thats the right thing to reunited everyone. For your Friends and Families" I said, patting him

"Yeah Lukas. Let's go find Radar" Male Jesse said as he walked away to the door followed by me

"Yeah" I said. As we went to find Radar

Chapter 5: The Incident

{Male Jesse POV} After all those Conversations and Hanging out, it's finally nightime, we all are going to watch the movie about us at the Beacontown's theater. we already book private seats there I was wearing my white T-Shirt, my sister was wearing a red T-Shirt, Petra was wearing a Blue T-shirt, Lukas was wearing his Shirt covered by his black skin jacket, Ivor was wearing black shirt with ties, Harper was wearing brown jacket covering her shirt, Jack was wearing a new blue vest, Nurm was wearing white sweater and as always, his green Emerald fedora. I'm currently fixing my messy hair with everyone at the Cinema

"You guys ready?" I asked everyone as i finish fixing my hair

"We're ready!" everyone said in unison

"Okay, then let's go!" I said, they replied with nods as we head inside the Cinema to watch the movie. I hope it's a great movie

We were having a lots fun when we were watching our own history reenacted by profesional actors and actress. I must admit that the Movie is good, detailed, made in perfection, and clearly specific of telling our life and struggles. We all laughed hysterically when we watch some funny scenes but we went silent and sad when we watch the death of Reuben...especially for me and my sister, we really miss him. But his death is not in vain. He helped us saving the world from Evil

At 12.00 pm the Movie was finally over and we all are going back home. when we were about to go home, Ivor and Harper are already excused themself and leave for Ivor's Pad. Then, I see the same suspicious hooded figure placing something that has 10 buttons of 10 numbers with a black screen displaying 00:00 near the cinema. He then pushed several number turning the number displayer into 00.20. When that guy leaves, curious, i walked straight to inspect the thing he placed there

"Hmmm, what is this?" I mumbled to myself as i inspected the thing

"Bro! What are you doing?" My sister said approaching me

"Yeah, we have to go back home! It's already late y'know" Petra said approaching me after my sister

"Yeah, didn't you got your duty tommorow?" Lukas said approaching me too behind them

"Yeah, you're right. Let's head home, guys!" I said as iwalked away from the thing. After i stepped away from that thing. I realized that thing make a some sort of *beep* sounds and then exploded. We quickly jumped for cover from the explosion

*Boom noise*

"What the!?" I said shocked while i feel my ears are hurt from the explosion

"That thing exploded!?" Petra said holding her arm. Looks like the explosion got her arm wounded

"Petra! Are you all right?" I asked her with concern

"I'm Fine, Jesse. it's just my arm getting hurt from that" she assured me

"Okay but we'll need to heal your arm okay?" I said, she nooded "okay" she replied

"Look!" Lukas exclaimed pointing at the injured peoples that caught the explosion

"We need to help them!" My sister said pointing at the injured peoples

"Yeah" Lukas said as he went with my sister to help the injured people

"What was that all about, Jesse?" Petra asked, a bit worried

"I think...i think this guy... I don't know who he is...he just placed...that thing and then again...that guy was the one who me and Ivor gotten... really Suspicious of" i said, between pantings

"What!? So this guy? he had some sort of a revenge on you?" Petra asked me, slightly confused

"I-I dunno. that guy is what we were talking about in Ivor's pad. And he just-" i said when a bottle was thrown out of nowhere and land nearby. Inside the bottle was a letter

"Huh!?" Petra said as she looked at the letter inside the bottle

I quickly picked up the letter from inside the bottle, scrolled it out and began to read it "Hero in residence, Jesse. This is the man who set that explosion. If you read this, go to the Royal Inn cafe at the Badluck alley. Thats where you can find me and my groups. We're not bad guys, we set up that bomb for...well Its classified. I apologize for the injury that i caused. So whatever the bloody hell are you doing, just meet me at the Inn. We will explain everything to you. Sincerely, John."

"Hey, Petra. This is the letter from the guy that had set up the bomb" I told Petra while showing the letter to her

"What!? Let me see it!" She said as she took the letter and examined the letter "John? He was that Inn owner!" Petra told me as she finished examining the letter

"Inn owner!?" I asked Petra, shocked

"Yeah, that's where i bought pies daily" Petra replied

"Should we meet him?" I asked Petra. She shrugged, unsure of what to say to me but then she replied

"Yeah, i think so...but you should tell the others!" Petra said as she handed me back the letter

"You're right, let's go!" I said as we went back home. Well, for me to the Order's temple and Petta to her own place. I'll talk about this to everyone because it seems important. Well, let's just wait for tommorow because i'm so tired right now

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46ten · 4 years

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The Forgotten Fifth

I started this post years ago, but unfortunately since have lost many of my notes. Still, at this time (and the day after Juneteenth) I think it’s critical that we understand that Black Americans have been here since the beginning, have advocated for themselves, and have fought for themselves. Our inability to “see” Blacks in American history means we don’t understand why Native American slaughter and Westward expansion happened, we discuss the goals of the antebellum “South” as though 4 million Blacks did not live there (and comprised nearly 50% of the population in some states), we rarely bring forward the consequences of the self-emancipation of enslaved Blacks on the Confederate economy, and so on.

It’s also critical to reject false historical narratives that place white Americans as white saviors rescuing Blacks. Within the Hamilton fandom, there is a strong white supremacist narrative embedded in the praise for John Laurens*, an individual who could not be bothered to ensure the enslaved men with him were properly clothed - which says more about his attitude towards Blacks than any high language way he could write about them as an abstraction. And if we want to praise a white person for playing a big role in encouraging the emancipation of Blacks during the American Revolution, the praise should go to the Loyalist Lord Dunmore in that roundabout way.

The Forgotten Fifth is the title of Harvard historian Gary B. Nash’s book, and refers to the 400,000 people of African descent in the North American colonies at the time of the Declaration of Independence, one-fifth of the total population. Unlike commonly depicted, Blacks in the colonies were not waiting around for freedom to be given to them, or to assume a place as equals in the new Republic. Enslaved Blacks seized opportunities for freedom, they questioned and wrote tracts asking what the Declaration of Independence meant for them, they organized themselves. And they chose what side to fight on depending on the best offers for their freedom. At Yorktown in 1781, Blacks may have comprised a quarter of the American army.

Most of what’s below is taken from wikipedia, other parts are taken from sources I have misplaced - the work is not my own.

In May 1775, the Massachusetts Committee of Safety enrolled slaves in the armies of the colony. The action was adopted by the Continental Congress when they took over the Patriot Army. But Horatio Gates in July 1775 issued an order to recruiters, ordering them not to enroll "any deserter from the Ministerial army, nor any stroller, negro or vagabond. . ." in the Continental Army.[11] Most blacks were integrated into existing military units, but some segregated units were formed.

In November 1775, Virginia’s royal governor, John Murray, 4th early of Dunmore, declared VA in a state of rebellion, placed it under martial law, and offered freedom to enslaved persons and bonded servants of patriot sympathizers if they were willing to fight for the British. Lord Dunmore’s Ethiopian Regiment consisted of about 300 enslaved men.

in December 1775, Washington wrote a letter to Colonel Henry Lee III, stating that success in the war would come to whatever side could arm the blacks the fastest.[15] Washington issued orders to the recruiters to reenlist the free blacks who had already served in the army; he worried that some of these soldiers might cross over to the British side.

Congress in 1776 agreed with Washington and authorized re-enlistment of free blacks who had already served. Patriots in South Carolina and Georgia resisted enlisting slaves as armed soldiers. African Americans from northern units were generally assigned to fight in southern battles. In some Southern states, southern black slaves substituted for their masters in Patriot service

In 1778, Rhode Island was having trouble recruiting enough white men to meet the troop quotas set by the Continental Congress. The Rhode Island Assembly decided to adopt a suggestion by General Varnum and enlist slaves in 1st Rhode Island Regiment.[16] Varnum had raised the idea in a letter to George Washington, who forwarded the letter to the governor of Rhode Island. On February 14, 1778, the Rhode Island Assembly voted to allow the enlistment of "every able-bodied negro, mulatto, or Indian man slave" who chose to do so, and that "every slave so enlisting shall, upon his passing muster before Colonel Christopher Greene, be immediately discharged from the service of his master or mistress, and be absolutely free...."[17] The owners of slaves who enlisted were to be compensated by the Assembly in an amount equal to the market value of the slave.

A total of 88 slaves enlisted in the regiment over the next four months, joined by some free blacks. The regiment eventually totaled about 225 men; probably fewer than 140 were blacks.[18] The 1st Rhode Island Regiment became the only regiment of the Continental Army to have segregated companies of black soldiers.

Under Colonel Greene, the regiment fought in the Battle of Rhode Island in August 1778. The regiment played a fairly minor but still-praised role in the battle. Its casualties were three killed, nine wounded, and eleven missing.[19]

Like most of the Continental Army, the regiment saw little action over the next few years, as the focus of the war had shifted to the south. In 1781, Greene and several of his black soldiers were killed in a skirmish with Loyalists. Greene's body was mutilated by the Loyalists, apparently as punishment for having led black soldiers against them.

The British promised freedom to slaves who left rebels to side with the British. In New York City, which the British occupied, thousands of refugee slaves had migrated there to gain freedom. The British created a registry of escaped slaves, called the Book of Negroes. The registry included details of their enslavement, escape, and service to the British. If accepted, the former slave received a certificate entitling transport out of New York. By the time the Book of Negroes was closed, it had the names of 1336 men, 914 women, and 750 children, who were resettled in Nova Scotia. They were known in Canada as Black Loyalists. Sixty-five percent of those evacuated were from the South. About 200 former slaves were taken to London with British forces as free people. Some of these former slaves were eventually sent to form Freetown in Sierra Leone.

The African-American Patriots who served the Continental Army found that the postwar military held no rewards for them. It was much reduced in size, and state legislatures such as Connecticut and Massachusetts in 1784 and 1785, respectively, banned all blacks, free or slave, from military service. Southern states also banned all slaves from their militias. North Carolina was among the states that allowed free people of color to serve in their militias and bear arms until the 1830s. In 1792, the United States Congress formally excluded African Americans from military service, allowing only "free able-bodied white male citizens" to serve.[22]

At the time of the ratification of the Constitution in 1789, free black men could vote in five of the thirteen states, including North Carolina. That demonstrated that they were considered citizens not only of their states but of the United States.

Here’s another general resource: https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part2/2narr4.html

*The hyper-focus on John Laurens is one of the ways white people in the Hamilton fandom tell on themselves - they center a narrative about freedom for Blacks around a white man (no story is important unless white people can stick themselves at the center of it, no matter how historically inaccurate!). Lord Dunmore’s 1775 proclamation, if known, is seen just as cynically politically smart, while Laurens’ vision is seen as somehow noble.

**Whether Lord Dunmore’s Proclamation - encouraging enslaved Blacks to rise up and kill their owners and join the Loyalist cause - played a major role in the progress of the American Revolution was hotly debated as part of the 1619 project.

#American Revolution #John Laurens #Lord Dunmore's Proclamation

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bumblegum-cherrypop · 4 years

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✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽✊🏼✊🏻✊🏼✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

Black Lives Matter

Fuck the 'All Lives Matter' because while that's true, people seem to have forgotten just what "ALL LIVES" means.

Black Lives Matter

I'm white, I'm british, I'm privileged.

I'm not one of you, but I STAND with you. I HEAR you. I FEEL your pain. I SUPPORT you.

Black Lives Matter

So what if our skin color isn't the same? So what if they're heritage is different to ours? We are all human and no one deserves to be treated as less. Under the skin, we are all the same.

Black Lives Matter

Not all cops are bad. But not all cops are good. We know this. Why aren't we doing more to change this? The bad cops out way the good, marring the perception. The good is there, buried in the bad. Think of it this way: you get good eggs and you get bad eggs. Does one bad egg mean all eggs are bad?

Black Lives Matter

2020 is a year that should never have been. And yet here it is. 2020 is full of upheavals that we thought we were finally beginning to overcome. 2020 is the year we should all take a stand against injustice. 2020 is the year we all need to open our eyes. 2020 is the year we need to listen.

Black Lives Matter

Pride Month is more important than ever. It's a month for the LGBTQ+ community but this year it stands as more. We've fought for so long and so hard to get where we are with LGBTQ+. People have been fighting longer still for equality for all races and ethnicities and minority groups. Pride is about more this year. Pride is about supporting everyone. Pride is about being able to be who you are without the threat of your life on the line.

Black Lives Matter

Why are we standing for a president who is throwing gasoline into the fire? Why are we standing for a president who has said violence will be used? A president who let people have their hair cuts, their meals out, without a gun being raised, but allows INNOCENT PEOPLE to be gunned down in a movement for what is right instead of what is privilege? A president who acts without thought, without care? A president who thinks the only people who are people are people who look like him? A president not defending the very people he swore to be a person for all Americans to look to? The same guy allowing American citizens to be shot, gassed, beaten and arrested for excersizing their rights to protest?

Bringing the National Guard to attack protestors, actively not listening to his people because they aren’t his views - holding a bible upside down...

Sorry America but that sounds an awful lot like a dictatorship

Black Lives Matter

How many innocent lives have to be taken before voices are heard? A 10 year old was maced by a police officer for merely being in the rallies with her family. A man was shot while carrying his baby. Medics in the field working to help the people being shot at, gassed and brutally attacked by all manner of police transport and weapon (riot shields count as weapons) - when the very act of shooting and attacking medics is a WAR CRIME. DC issuing a blackout with thousands going missing. Police turning a blind eye to white men attacking protestors but turning on the protestors for defending one another.

Is this the kind of world we want to live in?

Black Lives Matter

2020. Over 100 years since WW1. 70 years since WW2. And yet the brutality and the regime being seen is close to Nazi. Is this the world we want to live in?

Black Lives Matter

No one person is more important than another. No one race is more important than another. No one group is more important than another. No one ethnicity is more important than another. No one. Equality should be a human right not a law passed. But that's not what we have. Instead we have a duty to stand and fight for what is right.

Black Lives Matter

In the USA, women got their voices heard in 1920. 100 years ago congress ratified the 19th amendment and women could vote. 100 years ago this year. This time, it's time equality is found. This time, Black Lives should be seen as lives and not targets.

The matter is different. Equality is not a law or an amendment that can be designed or altered. But peace can only go so far before we take to the streets to demand our voices heard, that justice be delivered.

The sword of Damocles is swinging, and this time it’s close to falling. Destruction of property and looting won’t do anything but make it worse - protest, but don’t destroy the very country you try to save, the country built on the backs of slavery.

Black Lives Matter

No matter how small, or how big your platform is, it's your job to spread the word, get the message out, and do everything you can to show support to the Black Lives Matter movement. Not just for George Floyd, but for the countless other lives taken by police brutality.

You might not be able to join the protest. It might be too dangerous to go out and be there. But there are other ways.

Black Lives Matter

Remember the song in Pocahontas? The lyrics to ‘Colors of the Wind?’

You think I’m an ignorant savage / And you’ve been so many places / I guess it must be so / But still I cannot see / If the savage one is me / How can there be so much that you don’t know? / You don’t know...

You think you own whatever land you land on / The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim / But I know every rock and tree and creature / Has a life, has a spirit, has a name

You think the only people who are people / Are the people who look and think like you / But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger / You'll learn things you never knew, you never knew

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers / The heron and the otter are my friends / And we are all connected to each other / In a circle / In a hoop that never ends

How high will the sycamore grow? / If you cut it down / Then you'll never know / And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon / For whether we are white or copper skinned / We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains / We need to paint with all the colors of the wind

You can own the Earth and still / All you'll own is Earth until / You can paint with all the colors of the wind

I’ve highlighted the bits I see fit the situation - let me know if any of it doesn’t fit now. A movie about the white colonization of America and its Natives, a song written to that almost specifically, fits almost painfully today in the horror movie that is 2020.

How about the lyrics of ‘Speechless’ from Aladdin 2019?:

Here comes a wave / Meant to wash me away / A tide that is taking me under / Swallowing sand / Left with nothing to say / My voice drowned out in the thunder

But I won't cry / And I won't start to crumble / Whenever they try / To shut me or cut me down

I won't be silenced / You can't keep me quiet / Won't tremble when you try it / All I know is I won't go speechless

'Cause I'll breathe / When they try to suffocate me / Don't you underestimate me / 'Cause I know that I won't go speechless

Written in stone / Every rule, every word / Centuries-old and unbending / "Stay in your place" / "Better seen and not heard" / Well, now that story is ending

'Cause I / I cannot start to crumble / So come on and try / Try to shut me and cut me down

Let the storm in / I cannot be broken / No, I won't live unspoken / 'Cause I know that I won't go speechless

Try to lock me in this cage / I won't just lay me down and die / I will take these broken wings / And watch me burn across the sky

Hear the echo saying I won’t be silenced / Though you wanna see me tremble when you try it / All I know is I won't go speechless

Or ‘Strangers Like Me’ from Tarzan?

Something is familiar / About the strangers like me

Or ‘Circle of Life’ from Lion King? ‘I’ve Got a Dream’ from Tangled? ‘I Wanna Be Like You’ from the Jungle Book? ‘How Far I’ll Go’ from Moana? ‘Go the Distance’ from Hercules?

Just to name a small few of the songs that ring true - and if the fact that this is just the DISNEY songs, which are meant for more entertaining purposes isn’t a little disturbing, I don’t know what to say. Why is it these songs hit harder, when they aren’t intended for this situation? Because of the messages behind the lyrics. The song fits where the lyrics ring true.

Black Lives Matter

Those standing against the protests, siding with Trump and claiming he’s a) doing a remotely good job, or b) that the protests shouldn’t be happening (in which case, I dread to think the kind of person you were raised to be), then take a moment to THINK.

What if George Floyd, Keith Childress, Betty Jones, Kevin Mathews, Michael Noel, Michael Lee Marshall - just to name a few

What if any one of these innocent victims to brutal murders could have held the cure for cancer either in their DNA or their heads?

Think of it this way; what if the next POC you see, you meet, had the cure for cancer? You wouldn’t kill them then, would you? But what if you shot them and killed the one chance of a cure?

The same goes for everyone of every race of every ethnicity - but right now it’s the Black Lives that matter most. We won’t be equal until we are all treated the same. So if you’re going to shoot a person because of the color of their skin, you can shoot me first because I would give my life if it meant saving the life of the person that bullet was really meant for.

Together we stand. Divided we fall.

Black Lives Matter

My PMs are open if you need to talk, if you want places you can go to support the movement, or want advice on how you can help.

🤎BLACK LIVES MATTER🖤

✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽✊🏼✊🏻✊🏼✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

#blm protests #i stand with you #we are all human #black lives fucking matter

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alexandramassliu · 4 years

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égalité for all notes

haiti was wealthiest island in the western hemisphere based off of its capital of slavery

liberty, equality, faternity

toussaint recruited 3-4000 people and fought spanish and french army for 12 years. they burned the mechanisms of production and the plantations and homes

massacred the colonizers

1789 haiti

french revolution is happening. the french saw this as an end of enormous privilege to the wealth. means radical thinkers ideas can be realized. means everyone has rights. rights of man. it was not supposed to work for everyone.

sugar was too powerful to stop slavery and ayiti was the sugar capital of the world.

to harvest sugar cane is very arduous and painful.

the slaves were tortured in cruel ways.

some black people escaped slavery due to having a white father or buying or finessing out.

toussaint is one of those people. he grows up on a plantation and he was allowed to read and write as a child. he was very smart and had contacts in the united states and other islands.

whites hoped for more control but there was a large population for mixed raced people on the island who wanted equality. they were the first to ask for equality. they sent a petition to france to request equality and civil protection

made the white people mad mad and white people started killing.

the french got back and allowed mixed raced people rights but the white leader of saint domingue said no. funny enough his wife was like no france is trying to stop our « rights » we need be separate from france

boukman a slave and voodoo priest. voodoo is the spirit of ancestors. the voodoo ceremony is the start of the revolution is it when the slaves decided enough is enough. in two weeks it will start.

august 22 1791

1000 slaves attacked their owners. 👊🏾

1000 to 20,000 slaves joining in. in three days 184 sugar plantation, and 1000 coffee plantations gone.

white and mulattoes fled to capital for protection

toussaint meanwhile had two plantations. and went back to his old plantation and looked to protect his former slave owners

boukman was murdered and mutilated by white owners in battle. rest in power.

Toussaint decided to go to the mountain (large risk) and join the slaves and become the black spartacus

the french gov sent 10,000 military reinforcement to have the white p*wer be re-established.

toussaint wasn’t a violent man. he first wrote a settlement offer in exchange for freedom of the slave leaders and better working conditions for the slaves. OBVIOUSLY REFUSED.

it was hard for everyone on ayiti to imagine freedom for everyone.

ANYWAYS in the french revolution they beheaded the king.

mixed race people and white people are closer than ever and the mixed race people can join in politics. white people were not happy so they asked the british to help put down the revolution.

in 1794 a delegation from the slaves and free black people in ayiti reached france national assembly

he pledge freedom to slaves fighting. the embassy was like no but the french national assembly endorsed the emancipation of the slaves. they also freed slaves around the entire empire (Guadalupe, martinique)

millions of black slaves become french citizens..

jean jacque dessalines was a prominent leader.

toussaint was now a french citizen and pleased i guess but him and dessalines pushed the spanish army out of the island.

there was word of what toussaint and dessalines was doing which was beating european armies

they didn’t want the army that ran away from the island to go to another and release information by telling the story of what was going on in haiti and sparking more slave rebellions.

toussaint is now governor of saint domingue. his rival félicite sontonacs. he was popular with black people and toussaint did not like people threatening his power. he forced him off the island.

in 1798 napolean bonaparte is in egypt and goes to paris and took the reigns of power in a coup état and toussaint is watching him. Napoleon wants to restore slavery

toussaint wanted everyone to rebuild the economy meaning going back to the fields. slavery pt2

newly freed slaves wanted to work for themselves.

toussaint writes a constitution says that slavery would never exist on the island again and it was the first in history to prohibit discrimination based on skin color.. he also made himself governor for life with the sole authority to pick his successor. dictatorship which remained for two centuries.

thomas jefferson and napoleon are communicating.

toussaint saw a bigger army of french coming to the island. he fought them for three months but with less support since he basically brought back slavery

may 6 1802. toussaint surrendered. he was arrested on conspiracy. he was shipped to france. dessalines continued cooperating to french general.

napoleon reinstated slavery in Guadalupe. ayiti erupted in anger and fear. the slaves took the fields again against the armies. dessalines said kill all the white people. they burnt land. in 1803 the french. Haiti is the first black republic.

toussaint died in france in a cell.

The haitian revolution inspired more slave rebellions. france made haiti pay literally and crippled its economy. and the us did not recognize haiti for sixty years. the government continued to be authoritarian.

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 6 years

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Winner’s Curse Prologue

Note: Thanks to @edream93 who gave me the “crazy” suggestion to stop lagging on one of my old fics and do something new and for encouragement in this beginning prologue. This is going to deal with more potential fae problems in Auradon and the villain’s dire living conditions on the Isle. Hope you enjoy.

2 weeks after Cotillion

“Everyone shut up!” Queen Nerissa commanded loudly banging her fist on Queen Grimhilde’s table so that the assembled villains would pipe down about how they were missing their latest soaps or needed at their shops.

She surveyed those present. Each with their own skills and ruthlessness that would be useful when the time came for them to invade Auradon.

At her right, sitting on her throne since she refused to sit at the dinner table with the rest of the villains was Queen Grimhilde, filing her nails.

At the head of the long, dusty, unused dinner table was Dr. Facilier in a heated debate with Ursula next to him. Going over past grudges and insults no doubt. They’d had a complicated history since Ursula’s accidental pregnancy resulting in twins.

Further down the table next to Ursula was Morgain Le Fey conferring with Circe. They were newcomers to the Isle. Just arrived six months ago as part of King Adam’s second crackdown following his spawn’s coronation so neither showed the signs of defeat and neglect in their appearance as other villains had. Both were impeccably dressed, the rot of the Isle had not touched them when it came to physical beauty. Their long black locks were free of tangles and they managed to maintain the velvet robes that they had come with so that the patches and faded material were not visible. And their skin remained perfectly pale and smooth.

Which was more than Queen Nerissa could say for Mother Gothel who sat across from them scowling enviously. She looked reminiscent of a gargoyle with her frizzy hair and wrinkles that were deeply entrenched into her forehead despite her vigorous use of a anti-aging cream that she had found among the Auradonian’s leftovers.

Next to Mother Gothel were three of Agrabah’s formerly most powerful sorcerers, Jafar, his sister, Nasira and Mozenrath. Jafar and Mozenrath had been going at it, arguing over who was more powerful and who humiliated Aladdin more while Nasira sat in the middle of them rubbing her temples at their infantile fighting.

Squished between Dr. Facilier and Mozenrath was Yzma, the former advisor of Emperor Kuzco and formerly a kitten before her banishment to the Isle. She seemed to be praying for a bottle of wine if she had to deal with these people and was mumbling something about cow potions under her breath.

At the other end of the table was Queen La, impatiently tapping her ragged nails on the table. She hadn’t aged so drastically as the others- keeping fit by hunting animals in the Isle’s jungle area allowed her to look almost pretty in her skimpy hyena fur bikini. But age had taken its toll on the immortal Atlantean too, crow’s feet were creasing her angry cyan eyes.

The villains immediately quieted down at Nerissa’s action but still harshly glared at the interruption of their tirades.

Queen Nerissa paid the glares no mind. They were harmless, just delusional blowhards still yakking about their evilness even though none of them had their magic anymore. Or even muscles to punch someone to the ground. They were pathetic, aging mortals griping about their glory days.

Well that was all going to change.

Giving a steely glare back at them, Queen Nerissa looked at each of them in the eye as she began her explanation for why she had brought the 11 of them to Queen Grimhilde’s castle.

“If any of you cared to figure out why I’ve called you here, look around. We all have something in common here. Something that no other villain in this forsaken place possessed.”

“More brains than Gaston?” Yzma suggested, rubbing back the wilted flower attached to her hat. She had a recent confrontation with that lug head when Dr. Facilier made her pick up Zevon from Dragon Hall after Gaston Jr. mummified him with his own leather coat and stuff him in the garbage pile. It was humiliating to have such a louse for a son. And pummeled by an idiot like Gaston’s spawn!

“More evilness.” Jafar half-heartedly guessed, slouching in his seat and rubbing his hungry stomach. He wished he could be back at his shop with some moldy baklava.

Dr. Facilier took a discreet glance around, absentmindedly his useless shadow cards in his hands. “Hmmm” he hummed, his voice transitioning to its infamous velvety tone, “I believe what la reine is implying is that we all had magic.”

“Yes.” Queen Nerissa cut in shortly with a curt nod in the voodoo man’s general direction, “We all had magic before we were sent to this hellhole.” “So what?” Ursula interrupted.

Queen Nerissa tensed, glaring at Ursula until the hefty sea witch rolled her eyes and made a dismissive “continue” motion with one of her tentacles. “King Adam may have stopped us from using magic with his little dome around the Isle, but Maleficent and Ursula’s brats have done something useful. They have broken the barrier twice. They have weakened it enough so we may have a chance to gain some power back.”

It was almost comically that at her last claim, all the villains leaned forward in unison waiting for her to explain.

“I have invited you all here to join my coven. With the barrier weakened, little spurts of magic can come into the Isle and we can practice here, growing and combining our powers until we can break the barrier from within. And from there, we invade Auradon for a glorious, bloody new reign.” Queen Nerissa exclaimed proudly.

The other villains looked toward each other, evil smirks spreading across their faces, minds alight with visions of revenge.

“We can have King Beast grovel at our knees!” Circe gasped. She had been particularly vengeful toward the former king for throwing her on the Isle despite various Auradonian citizens vouching for her to stay in the U.S.A. and that she had reformed.

“And his head decapitated on a ship mast.” Ursula added, protectively touching her stomach where Prince Eric once stabbed her.

The only one not joining in the happy atmosphere was Queen La. The former queen was stonily glaring at Queen Nerissa as if assessing for the best way to rip out her jugular.

“Your coven?” she growled, slicing the excitement to dead silence. The other villains’ happy grins faded away s they realizing the meaning behind that possessive word and Mozenrath and Morgain Le Fey got up, looking ready to fight.

“I meant, my coven as in it was my idea.” Queen Nerissa began to explain.

“I will not work under your coven. I am the Queen of Opar.” Queen La got up, fists clenching as she strode towards her. Mozonroth sat down with a satisfied smirk at the thought of the coming catfight.

“Was queen!” Queen Nerissa cut in but Queen La continued her furious complaints.

“I am Queen. I magicked my own kingdom. I brought rain. I had an army of leopards who when they rebelled, I disintegrate into dust. I fought Tarzan three times and he, not once, was he able to kill me.”

“Just put your soul into a rat body.” Yzma snickered.

Queen Nerissa began backing away to Queen Grimhilde’s throne as Queen La reached throat-grabbing distance, “I was not defeated by a little princess by losing my balance and falling off a building. I will not work under someone who is my inferior!”

Queen Nerissa didn’t bother to defend that she had been stabbed before falling off a building as Queen La’s sharp nails aimed at her face when Queen Grimilde threw a box in between them.

The shoe box clattered to the ground and out scurried a small purple lizard.

“What is that!? Is it poisonous?” Mother Gothel screeched, getting up on the table with Circe and Nasira.

“That’s Maleficent.” Queen Grimhilde answered, shoving between a momentarily shocked Nerissa and La.

“Can we keep this meeting moving along? I need eight hours of beauty sleep a day.” Without a big display, Queen Grimhilde pulled out a vial of bright pink liquid and threw it at the lizard that was running under the table causing several villainesses to screech with uncharacteristic fear. The lizard began to grow and morph into the familiar, formerly petrifying figure of Maleficent.

“So our magic potions can work?” Yzma whispered joyfully.

Flinging her head back so that her horns almost stabbed Dr. Facilier’s hat, Maleficent stretched and cracked her bones before turning to face Queen Grimhilde. “About time!” she huffed and turned her attention to the other villains.

“Scared of a common lizard, no wonder you were defeated by royals. You’re just as soft as them.”

“Hey, I have a right to be scared. Didn’t Nasira’s daughter almost die from some lizard bite last month?” Circe questioned.

“It wasn’t a poisonous lizard, it was just the infection from the bite. Though I think she was being a bit over dramatic about it if you ask me.” Nasira said, “Just because I don’t have medicine to treat a wound doesn’t mean she was “dying” or whatever.”

Maleficent snorted derisively to signal a topic change, “And La, you were defeated by a half-witted gorilla man and his British twat of a wife. Your soul was in a rat’s body before you came here. You don’t have the staff that allowed you to have a kingdom or bring down rain. You don’t have any claim to being someone’s superior....Now as for the coven, it will not be ruled by Nerissa, it will be ruled by-”

“Not you.” Queen Nerissa moved next to Maleficent, away from her safe spot next to the throne. “You’ve been gone for months, Malfi.”

She smirked at Maleficent’s clenched scowl, “You’re no longer the Queen of the Isle and with your daughter turning out to be as big of a goody goody as Aurora I don’t think you have any claim to being the Mistress of all Evil.”

“Exactly.” Queen Grimhilde agreed, glaring at Maleficent to respond, “As a coven, we shall have no ruler. Just a common goal. Bring King Adam to his knees and kill the royals that have foiled our plans and ruined our lives far too many times.”

“How do we know you won’t try to take the power for yourselves?” Jafar challenged.

“How will we know that you won’t?” Queen Grimhilde shot back.

“He’s too weak to be able to do such a thing. He’s nothing without his cobra staff.” Mozonroth said. “Why you-” Jafar reached to strangle him when Morgain Le Fey waved her arms and the two dueling sorcerers split apart with a force pushing them to the walls.

With a satisfied smile Morgain Le Fey confirmed, “We can use some of our former magic. And as the only one here who has been in a coven before, you should know that covens work without a ruler. Just one common goal as Grimhilde said.”

The rest of the villains seemed to begrudgingly accept that explanation so Morgain continued to talk.

“Even without our wands or staffs, we can still use alchemy. Ursula, your powers are derived from the sea right? You don’t need your necklace.”

Ursula nodded, “I would prefer to have my necklace but yeah I can do it.”

“Jafar? Nasira?” She turned to the Agrabahans.

“We can try to go back to the old fashioned magic until we can have our objects back again.” Nasira answered as Jafar got up and shuffled back to his seat, wiping himself of imaginary dust.

“La?”

“Queen La. I’m fine without my staff. I was a High Priestess before I became queen.”

“Mother Gothel?”

“I can use old spells.” Mother Gothel answered.

“Good. Then we can all be useful in this coven.” Morgain said. “The most powerful magic users on the Isle. And soon to be most powerful rulers of Auradon.”

“What about Madam Mim? If we are going to have all the magic users, shouldn’t we include her?” Dr. Facilier questioned.

“A coven either has three people or thirteen people.” Queen Nerissa said, “Besides do you really want to work with that madwoman?”

None of the villains volunteered to continue with that suggestion.

“No leader?” Maleficent hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re saying that we’re all equals.”

“In the coven at least.” Queen Nerissa said, “I was thinking on the Isle...we can be at the top of the food chain. After all, we have powers. The others don’t. They should all bow to us.”

Maleficent smirked, “That would be good.”

“So we’re all in agreement. We work together until we take over Auradon. In the meanwhile, dominate the Isle.” Queen Grimhilde clapped her hands and some of Maleficent’s goblins came in carrying trays with unfermented wine.

When Maleficent looked at her incredulously, Queen Grimhilde just shrugged, “You were gone. So I took them.”

The villains took their seats at the table, and clinked glasses to their coming takeover of Auradon.

#my fanfic #my fanfiction #disney descendants #winner’s curse #maleficent #queen nerissa #evil queen #queen grimhilde #jafar #nasira #ursula #mother gothel #circe #dr.facilier #yzma #morgain le fey #queen la #mozonroth

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ruminativerabbi · 5 years

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Three Good People

Just this week, three separate emails landed in my inbox that actually made me feel encouraged and hopeful about the future. Since so much of what I’ve written about lately has been so dour and/or anxiety-provoking, I thought I’d change up the pace this week and write instead about three recent events that made me feel hopeful about the future.

First up was the speech delivered at an American Jewish Committee forum in Brussels last week by Sebastian Kurz, the chancellor of Austria (and at age thirty-three the youngest serving head of government in the world). My feelings about Austria in general are complicated, and not least of all because my initiation into the whole world of Shoah-displaced people was via my parents’ next-door neighbors who were refugees from Austria and whose stories of life in Nazi Vienna were beyond terrifying. Nor have my sentiments become less complex with the passage of time, as I continue to marvel at the Austrians’ post-war success in turning themselves from a nation of avid Nazi supporters who enthusiastically welcomed union with Germany in 1938 into, by war’s end just eight years later, a victim nation to be pitied and rebuilt. Nor was this a momentary lapse of reasonableness: the so-called “victim theory,” according to which Austria had nothing for which to apologize and no sins for which to atone became the foundational idea of post-war Austria for decades and decades, only giving way to a more nuanced understanding of Austria’s role in the war (and in the exile and extermination of its Jewish citizenry) after Kurt Waldheim, a former Nazi officer, became Federal President of Austria in 1986 and forced the issue onto the public stage both in Austria and abroad.

That was then, however. And now is a whole ’nother story. I first became interested in Sebastian Kurz when I read a transcript of a speech he delivered last June in Jerusalem at a forum sponsored by the American Jewish Committee. One by one, the man addressed every skeleton in his nation’s closet, forcing both air and light into that traditionally very dark space and speaking words that would once have seemed impossible to hear from an Austrian politician.

First, he took on the myth of Austrian victimhood. “Austria used to see itself as the first victim of the Nazis,” he said plainly enough. But then he went on to make his real point. “That is certainly true for all those who fought in the resistance, whom we cannot thank enough. But the ones who gathered in large numbers in Vienna in March 1938 [i.e., when Germany incorporated Austria into the Reich] were not victims. The ones who watched and participated when their neighbors were robbed, thrown out, and murdered were not victims. And the ones who committed the terrible mass murder of Jews were not victims at all. To remember means to admit the truth. At that time, many Austrians supported a system which killed over 6 million Jews from all over Europe and beyond, among them more than 60,000 fellow Austrian Jewish citizens in Austria alone!”

I was impressed. But he went much further. He admitted that Shoah survivors were specifically not welcomed back to Austria after the war and that his nation’s lack of generosity towards people who had been publicly humiliated and robbed of their possessions was a heavy burden all Austrians must now bear. And then he went on to talk about the efforts being made to foster what he called “a culture of commemoration” in Austria’s schools and to create a Shoah memorial in Vienna. Finally, he spoke warmly about his nation’s ongoing support for Israel, announced a million-Euro gift to Yad Vashem, and concluded with these words: “Let me state very clearly: Austria supports Israel and the global fight against anti-Semitism not for political or economic reasons, but as part of our friendship, of our moral obligation, to humanity. Only if Jewish people can live without restriction in peace and security can the eternal call “never forget” truly become a “never again.”

But that was last year’s speech and now, just this last week, Chancellor Kurz was back at an AJC forum, this one in Brussels, to talk about the resurgence of European anti-Semitism. I listened carefully and I recommend that my readers all do too. (You can click here to hear the speech, which is only less than twenty minutes long. Skip forward to the eleven-minute mark in the clip, which is where Kurz begins to speak. There is no translator; Kurz speaks in excellent, clear English.) Again, he speaks openly about the grief and guilt he feels as a citizen of Austria when he contemplates his nation’s role in the Shoah. (He uses the term “Shoah” too, which also impressed me for some reason.) He resumes his theme about the importance of supporting Israel, which he references as a “stronghold of democracy, rule of law, and prosperity in the Middle East and in the whole world.” But this speech was primarily about anti-Semitism and I found his comments so important that I want to share them with you all in detail.

He declares openly that, in his opinion (as in mine), “anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism are often two sides of the same coin.” The latter especially is not to be confused with being opposed to this or that Israeli policy; anti-Zionism is the global refutation of Israel’s right to exist and the Chancellor correctly understood that there can be no more precise definition of anti-Semitism than that. Particularly moving were his comments about anti-Semitism on the micro level: “No one, no matter who they are, where they are from, or what their faith is, must ever feel afraid to walk in the streets of any European country. We owe this assurance to all people in Europe and especially to the Jewish community.” Try to imagine Kurt Waldheim saying those words other than perhaps sarcastically!

I encourage you to watch the speech and to listen. There are so many horrific things in the world, so many haters, so much violence, so many reasons to feel unsafe and insecure. And then this one person appears on the stage, this very young man, who seems to see things clearly, who is in a position to make a huge difference, and who does not seem to fear speaking his mind openly and courageously. I listened to the youtube clip three times in a row and can only say that Sebastian Kurz accomplished something that I can’t recall an Israeli or American politician doing in quite some time: he made me feel fully hopeful that there are good people in the world…and that the world will be a safer and better place because such people exist in it.

And then I listened to two other speeches and was just as impressed. It was, given my generally dour mood over these last months, a remarkable experience.

First, I listened to the speech Representative Steny H. Hoyer (D-Maryland) delivered at AIPAC last Monday. He’s a good speaker, but it was the content of his remarks that I found so heartening: here was a Democrat—and not just a Democrat but the Democrat serving as House Majority Leader—who spoke passionately about his support for Israel in the way that was clearly meant to distance himself and his colleagues from the two outspoken anti-Israel Democrats in the House, Ilhan Omar (D-Minnesota) and Rashida Tlaib (D-Michigan). When he dared any who would accuse Israel supporters of dual loyalty to include him in their charge, he sounded to me like an old-time Democrat for whom standing with Israel publicly and unambivalently would have been as natural as supporting any other one of our nation’s allies. His language was clearly aimed at those, like Omar and Tlaib, who frame their criticism of Israel using anti-Semitic tropes. He said that he and most Democrats stand “proudly and unapologetically” with Israel. He announced plans to lead a large delegation of Democrats to Israel later in the year. But most heartening of all was when he said this: “I am part of a large, bipartisan coalition in Congress supporting Israel. I tell Israel's detractors: accuse us. And millions of Americans, regardless of race or faith or partisan label, stand with Israel because they understand why our relationship with Israel is so important. Accuse us all!” He took a lot of heat for those words later on, including from some of his own colleagues, and tried to make it clear that he was speaking for Israel rather than against any specific individual. But his words were clear and heartfelt. I came away remembering that although Israel has some vocal enemies in Congress, it also has many friends…among whom Steny Hoyer certainly deserves to be numbered.

And then I listened to my third speech of the week, the one delivered at AIPAC by Joan Ryan, who just quit the Labour Party after forty years as a Labour M.P. in the British House of Commons over the issue of the anti-Semitism that has gripped the party under the leadership of Jeremy Corbin, whom she described openly as someone who “proudly declares Hamas and Hizbollah to be his friends” and who now “seeks to demonize and delegitimize Israel.” She isn’t alone, of course: nine other Labour M.P.’s have quit the party in recent weeks over the rampant anti-Semitism and virulent anti-Israelism of is leader. For her decision to join them, she has been rewarded with what she herself characterized as a “torrent of abuse” that included threats of murder and rape. And yet she has stood her ground and spoke at AIPAC with a kind of confidence born of profound conviction.

I’d like to give her the final word because I was so impressed with her remarks. “Sticking to your convictions,” she said, “isn’t always popular but it is always right.” (We all think that in theory, but which of us has paid the price Joan Ryan has for putting our money where our mouths are?) And then, after mentioning the vicious threats she has had to endure, she waved them all away graciously and bravely, noting that threats like that only strengthen her resolve to stand up for British Jews from attacks from the right and from the left, and to stand up for Israel. And she openly called on us all to “stand together—proud of each other and proud of Israel in the battles that lie ahead.”

So after so much dour news from so many different quarters and for so many months, these three speeches helped me recall that there really are decent people out there who have no trouble standing up for what they perceive to be right. That none of the people cited above is Jewish or a citizen of Israel also means a lot to me: it’s so easy to feel alone in this uncaring, dismal world that it is incredibly encouraging to recall that we aren’t alone, and that Israel also isn’t. The sonim won’t go away. But apparently neither will the good people. And where good people stand their ground and face down their foes, history has taught us again and again that they eventually prevail.

#Steny Hoyer #Joan Ryan #Sebastian Kurz

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qqueenofhades · 6 years

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if the stars did not burn so bright

So I woke up with a shit-ton of feelings about young Garcia at the end of his first war. It was funny for about two seconds, because it was about his inability to talk to women, and then it took a sharp left turn into Pain.

Welp.

The Stradun is still in disarray from the shelling, the Old Town bears the scars – the siege of Dubrovnik ended just over three years ago, but it’s a mess, broken stones and rubble lying in the street, windows boarded up and kids rattling by on bicycles, shouting and waving flags, because most people still don’t have gas for their cars. The cheering is audible across the city, and bursts of fireworks keep breaking out. Every time they do, Garcia flinches. It is November 15, 1995, and the Erdut Agreement was signed three days ago. The war is over, everyone keeps saying. The war is over, and they are free.

Garcia is sitting with a few of his buddies from the HV at a sidewalk café near the Ploče Gate. It is serving everything it has in its kitchen, drinks or food, refuses to let them pay for anything, and total strangers keep stopping to kiss or hug them, whooping and slapping their backs. They’re in their military fatigues, they’re recognizable, and Ivan and Luka are clearly enjoying the attention. Garcia supposes he is, more or less. He wishes he could stop seeing that space between them, the one where Danijel is supposed to sit. It was just three months ago, in August. Operation Storm, the largest land battle fought in Europe since World War II. Four days, the fourth to the eighth. Just four.

(Danijel almost made it. He almost saw tonight. He almost was here. Instead he died in Garcia’s arms with Serb rockets going off overhead, and so, therefore, he isn’t.)

Garcia takes another drink from the glass in front of him. There are several on the table, he doesn’t know which one it is, and he swallows the dark-brown bitter as more fireworks go off close at hand. He jumps, and Luka punches his arm in a friendly way. “Hey now,” he says. “These are the good ones. Remember?”

“Yeah.” Garcia manages a grin. He tries not to think about everything he’s seen in the papers, in the reports of international observers, crackled through on radios. Close to a quarter of the country’s economy ruined, twenty thousand people dead, two hundred thousand more refugees. The massacres of Vukovar, Dalj, Lovas, Erdut, and Škabrnja, the prison camps, the artillery rounds, the crimes against humanity. It is quite easy to cast the Serbs and Yugoslavians, the JNA, as the monstrous antagonists, and one of the names for the war, the “Greater Serbian Aggression,” Velikosrpska agresija, reflects that sentiment very well. The Croatian army, Hrvatska Vojska, are the spirited, under-equipped rebels fighting for freedom against a merciless, overwhelming empire, and Garcia, since he is twenty years old and signed up to fight when he was fifteen, sees no difficulty or complication in this picture. He doesn’t even know why he doesn’t feel happier. It’s not for any lack of belief in the cause. He is happy, he tells himself. He is. He just –

He doesn’t know.

He’s not sure he knows anything right now.

“We’ll take your mind off it,” Ivan says. “Tonight we finally get you laid, Garcia. Huh?”

“I – I suppose?” The others are all reeling drunk, they’ve been catcalling every woman they see, shouting for her to come over and join the heroes of the homeland. Some of them laugh and do so and take a few shots. Others clutch their bags or their coats closer and put their heads down and walk faster, and Garcia half-wishes the guys would stop doing it. Not that he can say so, not that he wants to be the party pooper. He has already felt exquisitely conscious of himself, his place, whether he has any right to be here. The last name, Flynn, is that of his father’s British stepfather. His mother is American, and took refuge in Paris when the fighting intensified. Garcia put down his grandmother’s surname, Kovačić, on his enlistment papers, and used his cousin’s ID, since it says he’s four years older. He was born here, he grew up here, he’s lived here all his life, but sometimes he still feels like an imposter, masquerading in a war that does not really belong to him. Even after almost five years of this, though Croatian is his first language and he still has a heavy accent when he speaks in English, he does not know if he is a worthy enough soldier for the cause.

“What about her?” Milan says, pointing. “You like her, Garcia?”

“She’s gonna like him,” Ivan jokes. “He’s a military hero. The women go for that.”

Garcia starts to say something, then takes another drink instead. He is six-foot-four and weighs maybe a hundred and seventy-five pounds soaking wet; the height was useful in passing as older than he is, though the beanpole part hasn’t been helped by four years of shit army food and backbreaking, sixteen-hour days. He has a thick shock of dark hair and his father’s Slavic nose, broad shoulders and too much limbs for his body, gangly and thin and awkward, big hands and big feet and sometimes feels like a stumbling stork. He can fire three different kinds of rifle, half a dozen handguns, and any idiot can take the pin out of a grenade and throw it. He is, as noted, twenty years old. He has already killed more men than he can easily count, and seen his friends – Danijel is not the only one missing tonight, the only ghost that they raise a drink to honor – die the same. He is not old enough to drink in America.

Milan whistles at another woman, apparently on Garcia’s behalf, and she looks scared and practically runs up the Stradun, out of sight. At that, Garcia feels obliged to take a hand. “Come on,” he says. “I’m sure there will be plenty who actually want to talk to us.”

“But you can’t talk to her,” Milan points out. “We all know that, yeah?”

The others laugh, as Garcia feels his cheeks burn. His difficulties in saying anything whatsoever to the fair sex are well known, since he clams up and can’t be clever to save his life and has nothing remotely recognizable as what the American rappers would call “game.” He’s shy and self-conscious anyway, he has no sense of how to act like he’s not, and as a result, his continued virginal status is a source of amusement in his squad. They all seem to feel that now that the fighting is done, they get to the good part. Ivan’s talking about Mila back in Zagreb, he’s gonna go see if she’s still single (or, perhaps, alive). The others have similar ideas. Settle down, have some new Croatian citizens, forget that all of this ever happened. It seems like it might be easy for them.

Garcia doesn’t think it is, knows that they’re all putting on brave faces tonight, but it makes him wonder anyway, how they can just think they have no more stake in this, nothing left to fight for. Sarajevo is still under siege. Bosnia is likewise oppressed by the Serbs, they’re still fighting, dying, for their own liberty. The struggle isn’t done. There is a reason that “Balkan” is a byword for conflict, that “balkanized” is a verb describing a situation or state of being that is inexorably divided beyond repair. Serbian and Croatian and Bosnian are all essentially the same language, but they all have to be given their own name, their separate recognizance, so one does not suffer the shame of speaking the tongue of the enemy. The red-checked national flag now flies over the Banski dvori in Zagreb, and Ante Gotovina is a monolithic hero beyond any doubt or questioning. They have done this, they have separated themselves from the broken, crumbling corpse of Yugoslavia and communism alike, won the Cold War with the Americans, stepped out into the new day of democracy and freedom. Garcia wishes – he wishes – it felt like it was over.

The owner of the café comes out to see how they are getting on, leaves another round of bottles, and scoffs at Garcia’s insistence that they should at least give him something. “No, no,” he says. “You have given us everything. This is the least I can do. There will be other days to make money. You drink up, boys. You stay as long as you like.”

“You know any nice girl?” Ivan asks. “Who does not bite? We have our friend here, he is very shy. We’re trying to get him laid.”

“I’m sure there are many nice girls.” The owner chuckles, but Garcia detects a certain hesitance in his face, as if he is going to go inside and tell his daughters to go upstairs and lock their doors, just in case. “If you have won a war, how hard can it be?”

Luka and Milan and the two Antons laugh and agree that see, this is what they were saying, and the owner clears off with the empties. It’s November, it’s chilly at night, even if their position here on the Adriatic means that it’s not cold. The stars are huge and bright overhead, since patches of the city are still running on generators or intermittent electricity, and Garcia twists the cap off the nearest bottle. He’s starting to feel on the drunk side of tipsy, a condition none of them have been able to afford for the last several years, since it’s hard to shoot straight if you’re shit-faced. Milan reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, passes them around to the boys, and they all light up. The smoke curls into Garcia’s lungs like a rasping knife, he taps the ashes off the end, and thinks that he should probably find a way to call his mother. Maria Tompkins has been living in the seventh arrondissement, teaching part-time mechanical engineering at the Sorbonne, and she was very upset that he decided to enlist in the first place. You have American citizenship through me, she said. You could come with me, we could go back to the States, or –

At this point, despite his heritage, Garcia has never been to America, and he has been raised in Eastern Europe during the Cold War, a state of affairs that – despite Maria’s moderating influence – does not leave much space for thinking of it fondly. They spoke both Croatian and English at home, he’s effectively bilingual, but he’s always spoken Croatian at school and with his friends, and as noted, still has too much of an accent to think he’d easily fit in in America. Besides, he’s never been there, he knows nothing about it aside from what he sees on TV and the infrequent times Maria decides to talk about it, her old life in Houston and her dead first husband and son. All his friends are here, all his friends were fighting for freedom. Garcia wasn’t about to be the chicken, the scab, running off to a comfortable life in the godless West and leaving his comrades behind to suffer and die. He has spent four years now as Garcia Kovačić, explained the first name away almost apologetically. Even some of the guys at this table, guys he’s won a war with, don’t know otherwise.

He pays half-attention to the ongoing debates about finding him a woman. The others feel as if that’s a good idea too. Luka spots one he likes, who comes over and has some drinks with them, and then gets up with her, as the others wolf-whistle and waggle their eyebrows, to announce that he is in search of more privacy. Is it that easy, Garcia wonders? Is that what it means, being a man, that you can expect to have your way with a woman at any given moment? The one time he was disrespectful about a girl at school, talked about her crudely the way he had heard older men do, his mother almost bit his head off. It goes against his grain to think of doing that now. He doesn’t even know that he wants to.

(He kissed Danijel once, in the darkness of the foxholes. He remembers the taste of soot and nicotine and sweat, and Danijel’s callused hands on his face. He’s not a homo, he likes women. He likes looking at them, he feels something like a fishhook in his stomach when the sun shines on their hair and skirts curl around their knee and blouses mold to the curves of breast and shoulder. He definitely knows he’s not gay. Maybe it’s just that men seem easier.)

“Garcia?” Ivan says, slapping his knee. “Garcia, wake up.”

“I’m sorry.” He blinks, rubbing his hand over his face, discovering that he is not quite sure where one is in relation to the other. “Jesus, I think I’m drunk.”

“Oh no, you’re definitely drunk.” Ivan laughs, slurring more than a little himself. “I don’t want to be able to stand up. The owner, he’ll probably go to the neighbors for more if we ever run out. I don’t want to stand up.”

His eyes are a little manic as he says this, the bright patina of joy cracking to show something else underneath, and Garcia thinks how Ivan was one of the first members of the HV to get to Vukovar and how he has been a little too loud, a little too jocular, ever since. If he does go back to Mila in Zagreb and they get married, Garcia wonders if she’s prepared for that, the possibility that Ivan is going to wake up screaming one night and there is going to be nothing there, nothing tangible, except the heaped bodies of butchered civilians around their bed. More fireworks go off over the harbor, from the direction of Lokrum. They burst overhead in showers of blue and red and white, national colors. It’s like a fever. A naked man runs past them, yelling, “HRVATSKA ZAUVIJEK!” and jumps into the fountain. Nobody seems to care.

Ivan reaches for another bottle, and Garcia decides to do the same, even though he’s sure that any more drink is going to land him passed out on the paving stones. His head is floating, he feels numb and dreamy and delirious, as if this is the closest thing he is going to have that passes for happiness. Milan is saying he wants a joint, and more of the boys have girls on their laps by now. Their hair is bleach-blonde, their roots dark, and their lips are crimson. Garcia fixates on that, like he can’t see anything else. There is screaming in his head that even the alcohol cannot wash out. Anyone who thinks this is done is an idiot.

Garcia opens his eyes with pale sunlight in his face, his cheek stuck to the spilled drink on the tabletop, the residue of cigarette ash foul in his lungs, and a splitting headache. The Stradun looks barely more respectable by morning than it did the night before, though some of the shopkeepers are out with brooms, and the café owner is the one who shook him awake. “Son,” he says. “Wake up, son. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Garcia pushes himself upright with arms that weigh a thousand tons, even though this is a fairly obvious lie. Pigeons are swarming down to peck at the crumbs, people are collecting the bottles and other rubbish, and he’s not the only one who has passed out in some public thoroughfare. “I – thanks. I should – I’m sorry for the mess.”

He fumbles for his wallet, thinking he’ll be lucky if someone hasn’t pinched it, and pulls out a few crumpled kuna, shoving it into the owner’s hand even as he protests and tries to decline. Garcia doesn’t let him, though, and stumbles to his feet, head sloshing violently. He makes it a few hundred meters before he has to stop and be sick in a side alley, and wipes his mouth, breathing hard. He wonders where the others ended up last night, or if anyone was going to come back for him later. He needs to go to the post office and write to his mother.

And yet, as he stands there, Garcia realizes he doesn’t know what to say to her, or if he could honestly promise that he would come join her in Paris and start a new life. Asher Flynn vanished when his son was twelve, Garcia has never known what happened to him, and there are no other family members in the picture. He wants to make his mother happy, he does. But the awareness of the remaining injustice continues to gnaw at him like a mouth of broken teeth, dull and constant. How could he excuse it, going off to France or America or wherever else, knowing that he could still have made a difference?

You know, Garcia thinks. Now that he thinks about it, if he is continuing on, there is some use to be had from his real surname. Kovačić has served its purpose, but it is also instantly and recognizably regional, insular, and it is, after all, a lie. Flynn is curt, crisp, cleaner. Impossible to mispronounce. Could mean he’s from anywhere, and professional anonymity is an asset he could cultivate. Can work harder on his thick accent, can sound less like Boris Borisovich the Vodka Drinking Soviet to American ears. He knows he’s good at what he’s done until now, and he could get better. He used to think about being a history or a geography teacher, his two best subjects in school, but he doesn’t think so anymore. There must be historians here now, dusting off the rubble and assembling it into a narrative, collecting evidence, shaping the story of the new nation. He has seen firsthand how it is made, in blood and struggle, and yet he knows it will end up antiseptic, organized, clean. That is their job, the historians. They make order out of chaos, a story and a meaning out of madness. They are dangerous people. History only happens once, but it has to be remembered. And those who keep that memory are ultimately more powerful than any rocket or bomb in existence.

(Maybe his hands will stop burning when he holds a gun again. Maybe he can stop one more person who is doing terrible things in the world, and this will be worth it. Maybe he will find a point where it feels like enough, and that it’s done, and that he can sleep.)

He doesn’t go to the post office. He crosses the Bosnian border, two weeks later, and heads up north to Mostar, and says that he’s from the HV, and he’d like to help them fight.

He tells them his name is Flynn.

#timeless #timeless ff #garcia flynn #my garbage boss #garcia flynn human disaster #but also ack baby

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dogopower · 3 years

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Satan, Prince of This World

I found that those secretly directing the Luciferian conspiracy in America decided to use Pike’s mental capacity, his qualities as a teacher, and his ability to master languages, to further their own secret plans. They tested his physical courage and resourcefulness by sending him among the Indians to earn his living by use of his brains while learning their language and customs. As those fomenting the American Civil War, they could use Pike and his connections with the Indians when they considered the time was ripe for the outbreak of hostilities.

Pike came out of this test with full marks and colours flying. He was next required to gain military experience by a period of active service. This is an unbroken principle, and must be complied with by every man who wishes to advance to a position of leadership in the World Revolutionary Movement. Thousands of American citizens, thousands of British citizens, and over two thousand Canadians joined Major Attlee’s International Brigade and fought in the Spanish Civil War, 1926-1929, in order to obtain military experience necessary for a Communist to qualify for leadership in the World Revolutionary Movement. The Mexican War provided Pike with just the opportunity he needed.

Having proven himself to be a man of exceptional ability, personal courage and leadership, in 1850 Pike was infiltrated into the Scottish Rites of Freemasonry. He again distinguished himself and won the confidence and respect of members.

The archives in Washington, D.C. throw some unexpected light on Pike’s connections with the. Indians during the Civil War. These records show that he at first commanded a regiment, and afterwards a brigade of Indian Troops, C.S.A. It also discloses the fact the Pike’s Indian troops had been disbanded by order of President Jefferson Davis because of the atrocities they had committed under the excuse of conducting legitimate warfare.

Investigation into Pike’s associates while in Harvard and while teaching private school, proved he had become acquainted with men who were members of the Illuminati, men who were connected with Moses Holbrook, Clinton Roosevelt, Danna, Greeley, etc. There is evidence to indicate that after 1840 Pike’s thirteen room mansion was used as the secret headquarters of those who constituted the Synagogue of Satan, and that within those walls they practiced occultism, and performed Satanic rituals, based on the Cabalism, as used by Moses Mendelssohn when he conducted initiations into the higher degrees of Weishaupt’s Illuminati in Frankfort, Germany prior to 1784.

Further light was thrown on this phase of Pike’s secret life when research revealed that after Pike gave up living in his Little Rock mansion, it was occupied by John Gould Fletcher, who also practiced spiritualism and occultism. He won the Pulitzer Prize for his poem written about Pike’s mansion entitled, “The Ghosts of an Old House.” It may be assumed that there is a great deal more truth than poetry in those verses, because evidence was later dug up which proved Pike conducted séances in St. Louis and other places throughout the world.

It was next discovered that Pike had been intimately associated with Guiseppe Mazzini from 1834 onwards, and remained closely associated with him until he died in 1872. Mazzini had been sent to America to assist Thomas Jefferson in laying the foundations for the part Weishaupt intended America should play in the semifinal stages of the conspiracy.

Research into the writings of Mazzini’s associates in France and Italy proved that Pike climbed the rungs of the ladder of Illuminism as fast as he had advanced in Freemasonry.

Moses Holbrook was secret head of the Synagogue of Satan in America during the first half of the 19th Century. He used the Cabalistic Rites as taught by Moses Mendelssohn when initiating specially selected candidates into Satanism as practiced in the higher degrees of Grand Orient Masonry in France and Italy by Cremieux and Mazzini respectively. The Caballas talmudic teachings, i.e., Satanism, was substituted for the ‘Books of Moses’ during the time the ‘Jews’ (so-called) were captive in Babylon.

Because some of the Founding Fathers of America had been openly anti-Semitic, and because the manner in which Illuminism had been exposed as having infiltrated into American Masonry, and because those who directed the activities of the Illuminati were mostly men who called themselves Jews, even if they were not, and lied about the matter, Pike decided that he would ‘pretend’ to clean Jewry out of control in America as far as Freemasonry was concerned. We will prove later that we are justified in using the word ‘pretend.’ He also decided that because the Illuminati was becoming suspect as directing the W.R.M.. he would reorganize Palladism, and establish councils throughout the world, to take the place of Lodges of the Grand Orient and the Illuminati. In other words, Pike decided to set up a different ‘front’ in order to give the Synagogue of Satan, which directs the W.R.M. AT THE TOP, a new face. He was determined to throw historians and research workers off the scent which stank to high heaven after Captain Morgan was murdered.

MOSES MENDELSSOHN’S RITUAL FOR THE HIGHER DEGREES OF GRAND ORIENT MASONS was known as “The Black Mass.” Its words and ceremonies expressed bitter hatred of Christ and Christianity. Pike suggested to Moses Holbrook that it would be a good idea if they revised and modernized the ceremony of “The Black Mass” so that it didn’t appear so talmudic. Holbrook agreed, and worked with Pike on a new ritual. Holbrook died before the task was completed, and Pike completed the work alone. He called the new ceremonial “The Adonaicide Mass,” which means “The Death of God.” It was on Pike’s doctrine that Nietzche

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xtruss · 3 years

Text

Charlemagne

After Afghanistan, Europe wonders if France was right about America

Emmanuel Macron argued the US could not be relied upon. He may have had a point

— September 4th, 2021 Edition | The Economist

The annual ritual of Bastille Day is a moment for the French to put up bunting, down champagne and celebrate the republic’s founding myths. On July 14th this year, however, when the French ambassador to Kabul, David Martinon, recorded a message to fellow citizens, gravity crushed festivity. “Mes chers compatriotes”, he began, “the situation in Afghanistan is extremely concerning.” The French embassy, he said, had completed its evacuation of Afghan employees. French nationals were told to leave on a special flight three days later. After that, given the “predictable evolution” of events in Afghanistan, he declared—a full month before the fall of Kabul—France could no longer guarantee them a safe exit.

When the French began to pull out Afghan staff and their families in May, even friends accused them of defeatism, and of hastening the regime’s collapse. Their evacuation effort in August (of 2,834 people, on 42 flights) was imperfect, and left some vulnerable Afghans behind. As allies scrambled to get their Afghan employees out of Kabul, the French found themselves as dependent as anybody on American security. Yet there has been quiet satisfaction in Paris. Their plans showed “impressive foresight”, says Lord Ricketts, a former British ambassador to France.

If the French acted early, making their own assessment of shared intelligence, this was due in part to a smaller footprint on the ground. France fought in Afghanistan alongside nato allies from 2001. “We are all Americans,” ran Le Monde’s front page after 9/11. It then pulled out all troops by 2014, partly to concentrate on its own counter-insurgency effort in the Sahel. Yet the decision in Kabul was also easier to take because the French have fewer qualms about doing their own thing, even when this irks America. As Europeans think through the unsettling implications of the Afghan fiasco, and what it says about dependence on a unilateral America, the mood in Britain and Germany is one of shock and hurt. For the French, who drew from the Suez crisis in 1956 the lesson that they could never fully rely on America, a conclusion reinforced under the Obama and Trump presidencies, Afghanistan has served to confirm what they long suspected.

It is no secret that not all Europeans share France’s view. When Emmanuel Macron took to the stage in the wood-panelled Sorbonne amphitheatre shortly after his election in 2017 and pleaded for “European sovereignty” and a “capacity to act autonomously” in security matters should Europe need to, his was a lone voice. In Germany and points east, Mr Macron’s plea was regarded with irritation: yet another pesky Gaullist attempt to undermine nato and supplant America as the guarantor of European security.

Minds have moved a bit since, as Mr Macron has sought to reassure friends that his idea is not to replace but to complement the transatlantic alliance. Even so, as recently as last year Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer, Germany’s defence minister, wrote bluntly that “illusions of European strategic autonomy must come to an end.” In Britain, meanwhile, Mr Macron’s calls were disregarded as irrelevant to an island nation freshly free to forge its own global role. The pooling of European sovereignty over defence was something Brexit was designed to avoid.

The debacle in Afghanistan has shifted the rhetoric. Tom Tugendhat, a Conservative mp who served in Afghanistan, urged Britain “to make sure that we are not dependent on a single ally”, naming France and Germany as potential partners. Ben Wallace, Britain’s defence secretary, suggested that his armed forces should be ready to “join different coalitions and not be dependent on one nation”. He did not need to spell out which one. “We’ve all been equally humiliated by the Americans,” says a British diplomat, who points to a common interest in making sure this does not happen again. For conflict-shy Germany, Afghanistan was a formative experience. The disappointment has been wounding. Armin Laschet, the conservative candidate for Germany’s chancellorship, described the withdrawal as “the greatest debacle that nato has experienced since its foundation”.

In short, Europe seems to realise that it will have to do more by itself. Whether the sceptics understand it or not, this is exactly what Mr Macron has been saying, and will say again in a speech ahead of France’s rotating presidency of the eu Council in 2022. Nobody, but nobody, will say so aloud. But the implicit recognition is that, zut alors, Mr Macron was right.

Aux armes, Européens

Two big questions for Europeans flow from this disconcerting thought, however, and easy answers exist to neither. First, what does Europe really mean by “European sovereignty” or “strategic autonomy”? Most countries vow to spend more on defence, even though Germany (unlike Britain and France) still fails to meet the nato benchmark of 2% of gdp. Beyond that, there is little clarity, and even less agreement, not least because Brexit has put Britain in no mood to work institutionally with the eu.

Should Europeans aspire merely to limited management of a regional conflict, such as the Sahel or Iraq? Or do they hope to take on collective defence of their continent? Realists argue for the former, and only up to a point. Enthusiasts hint at the latter. Yet even in the Sahel, France still needs the Americans for intelligence and logistics. Second, is Europe really prepared to do what it would take to get by on its own? The evidence is unconvincing. Europe is better at devising acronyms than building capabilities. “If we can’t even look after the airport in Kabul, there is a big gap between our analysis and our capacity to act,” says Claudia Major of the German Institute for International and Security Affairs.

The implied effort would be huge. “I am not sure the Europeans are psychologically ready to face the challenge,” wrote Gérard Araud, a French former ambassador to America, for the Atlantic Council. Mr Macron, like his ambassador in Kabul, may have made the right call. But are Europeans ready to heed it? ■

— This article appeared in the Europe section of the print edition under the headline "Après Afghanistan"

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sgreffenius · 4 years

Quote

For a people who are free, and who mean to remain so, a well organized and armed militia is their best security.

Thomas Jefferson, Eighth Annual Message, November 8, 1808

Here is an early history of militias and the National Guard in the United States:

Pre-dating the U.S. Army, the Army National Guard, the nation’s first organized fighting force, originated on December 13, 1636, in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, when three militia regiments were formed to defend against members of the Pequot Tribe and provide security and structure for the early settlements. Men between the ages of 16 and 60 were required to join, and the original three Massachusetts regiments continue to operate today.

In the absence of military assistance from Great Britain, the militia system alone guaranteed the success of early English colonization,” [historian Michael] Doubler writes. “As the Indian threat receded, militiamen found themselves more and more engaged against other colonial powers. Battles against the Spanish and French and service alongside British Regulars often revealed the militia’s best and worst aspects. By the late 1700s, the militia was a bulwark against unwelcome British intrusion into colonial affairs.

During the American Revolution, the units gained the name Minutemen, a nod to their quick response time, as they fought the first battles of the war.

Given its origins, how did the Army National Guard evolve so as to come under authority of the federal government? I do not know a detailed answer to that question, except to say that if the federal government wants authority over something, it generally finds a way to obtain it. I cannot think of one area where a state has resisted federal encroachment with success.

With that as an introduction, let’s jump backward to Jefferson’s well-conceived statement in his last State of the Union address, then move forward to problems of security before, during, and after the Capitol riot. We want to consider three questions: (1) What is a militia, in the American context? (2) Who ought to have authority over U. S. militias? (3) What role will militias have in future U. S. civil conflicts?

I do not expect we will take up these questions directly, at least not at first, nor will we try to take them each in turn. Yet when we are done, we should have a better feel for where militias stand in America’s political culture, and how we can think about them more productively than we have to this point.

I hesitated just a bit before I put Jefferson’s thought about well-armed and organized militias on the back cover of my recent book, Targets: Freedom and State Security. I thought the quotation could, at long last, bring the FBI to my door, wanting to ask me why I appear to advocate violence against the state. I do not want to find myself in that kind of trouble, as I have advocated against political violence in every essay about political conflict I have written. So the FBI would want to spend scarce resources checking out the possibility of violent Jeffersonian revolutionaries out in the suburbs.

That leaves the possibility of non-violent Jeffersonian revolutionaries. I suppose I quality. My essays about political change in America often advocate incremental, well-planned alterations in our government that, over time, would lead us far away from where we stand now. That is what I mean by revolutionary. Jefferson, enamored of the French Revolution, favored rapid change when a new generation called for it. We are in the middle of rapid change right now, and it does not feel so incremental.

That still leaves us with the question of what Jefferson meant when he referred to a well organized, or well regulated militia. Well regulated men under arms, such as the Minutemen: we find the same idea in the Second Amendment. You cannot establish local, armed militia units if citizens have no access to firearms.

The founders were just as cautious about political violence committed by unruly mobs as we are now. No Virginia aristocrat, however revolutionary, would want to incite insurrection against the fragile new government on the west side of the Atlantic. Not even rough and ready Massachusetts farmers, fishermen, and Sons of Liberty agitators would take to that idea, after two decades of intermittent political violence in their colony, from about 1765 to 1785.

What did Jefferson mean when he talked about well regulated militia? Did he have in mind the local units that fought bravely at Lexington and Concord, the Minutemen who turned out in the middle of the night to protect their families and their farms? Or did have in mind - more than a generation later - longstanding units, military organizations that today we would call the Army National Guard?

Given Americans’ opposition to standing armies, especially during the Republic’s first decades, chances are Jefferson had the first option in mind - local units that train together, but only during time off from regular work. Most Americans considered standing armies a threat to liberty, and a waste of money. This bias against a professional military class arose from long observation of how kings and lords were able to use these forces to subjugate people who had no way to fight back.

Yet local militia are in a bad odor today. When you quote Thomas Jefferson about the need for a well organized and armed militia, do you think of the Army National Guard? More likely, your thoughts go to the groups in military gear who stormed the Capitol on January 6. The FBI and other law enforcement agencies track militias, and quasi-militias across the country as threats to state security. They even classify some of them as terrorist groups, a category that subjects them to the closest possible scrutiny. As a result, they do their best to keep their heads low.

They did not keep their heads low on January 6. Instead they and their compatriots in the mob took selfies of themselves at the Capitol, and posted them! It’s as if they wanted to say, “Look at us! Look at me and our attempted coup! FBI, come after us, for we care not what you do to us after we complete our insurrection.” My thought after the invasion was that, “Next time, you won’t be taking selfies.”

Well people who take selfies are not acting like a well regulated militia, that is for sure. Proud Boys and other groups that affect occasional military trappings may have exerted some leadership to bring people to Washington for the demonstration, but they sure did not offer leadership during the Capitol riot. Attention grabbers and others high on the occasion surged through barricades and Capitol police, then decided what to do when they found themselves inside the fortress.

A militia acts with some discipline. Its behavior aligns with goals and plans, however much plans change during conflict. A mob and a militia are not the same: they operate according to entirely different principles of action. The Capitol breach would not have occurred as it did under military principles of action. Militias would have had goals of action far different from a mob’s.

The true militia in this instance was the National Guard. Their purpose is to protect people and institutions. They are well trained and equipped to do so. Yet the Department of Defense withheld approval for the Guard’s deployment even as the Capitol mob threatened to lynch members of Congress! No one knew what would happen if the mob captured members of Congress in the Capitol building that day. Hostages? Rough them up? Ritual humiliation? Shout them down? Lynching seems unlikely, but Capitol security clearly perceived threats where anything was possible.

Yet at a 2:30 pm phone call, two and a half hours after Trump ended his speech at the Ellipse, and sent his acolytes over to the Capitol to raise hell, the Department of Defense resisted deployment of the Guard to the Capitol. DOD officers said the visuals would not be good. They said the Guard would incite the rioters even more. Did they think the visuals could get any worse? Did they think the rioters could be incited even more than they already were? By two-thirty, rioters had already been inside the Capitol for some time. By two-thirty, Capitol security had already hustled members of Congress to safety amid mayhem. By two-thirty, the mob had done its worst, and continued to do its worst until late afternoon.

Yet DOD was concerned about visuals, incitement, and all kinds of imaginary reasons they should not respond with reinforcements trained for exactly the situation that unfolded at the Capitol right in front of them! The truth is, these reasons for not acting were simple excuses. They did not want to take responsibility for the act. They knew that if they responded with that level of force, people would perceive the attack on the Capitol building as an insurrection, which is exactly what it was. Perhaps they thought, “If we withhold the Guard, we can spin this episode as a demonstration that got out of hand.” God knows what they thought, because you cannot figure out what goes on in the minds of spineless people in authority.

Which brings us back to the matter of authority. DOD should not have authority over deployment of the Guard to begin with. Somehow they do. As indicated above, I do not know how they came to control deployment of Guard troops, but somewhere in the obscure decades of labor unrest or wartime duress, federal authorities came into ultimate control of how we would use Guard units meant for local protection and deployment. When Capitol police, and Washington municipal police recognized an urgent need to deploy DC Guard units on the Capitol grounds, they should have been able to do so. Instead, they had to request approval from DOD, and wait until DOD granted it.

Meantime, dozens of police officers, not trained or equipped to handle a mob that large, were injured while everyone else waited for approval. It’s almost as if people remembered the summer visuals, when helicopters hovered over the sacred Mall while protesters milled below, when shows of force failed to contain the mix of violent and non-violent protest that unfolded over the capital city. They did not want a mid-winter repeat of what happened during the summer. My God, what poor judgment! What inability to keep public relations out of a situation that requires decisive leadership!

The same authorities did not concern themselves with visuals after the fact. They brought in more than 20,000 troops to protect the Capitol for the January 20 inauguration only fourteen days later. They deployed razor wire, armored personnel carriers, cement barricades, metal barricades, weapons, uniformed troops, even aerial reconnaissance to lock down the capital. Thankfully, they did not deploy a black helicopter to hover twenty feet over the president’s head while he delivered his inaugural address.

In the end, state security in the United States operates according to the same sclerotic processes that appear to govern almost every political development now. Local control is gone. Instead we have crisis decisions made under a cloud of public relations concerns, then lockdowns made under another cloud of security concerns. The National Guard - the militia that counts in local situations that call for military training - cannot even play the role we intend them to play.

When Thomas Jefferson refers to a well organized and armed militia, the reference may call to mind the Massachusetts Minutemen, Ku Klux Klan during Reconstruction, twenty-first century Proud Boys and antifa skirmishers, or Army National Guard throughout its long history. How we think about militias in this country does depend on the particular situation and period, as well as our perspectives on the Second Amendment, and attitudes about deployment of armed troops within our borders.

You might even say our reactions to Jefferson’s emphasis on armed militias to protect liberty and curb state authority have become muddled to the point we no longer know how to think about state security and domestic tranquility. We ought to sort these matters out soon. Threats to domestic tranquility will not evaporate because authorities know how to lock down the capital city during an inauguration ceremony. Seeds of revolution lie dormant until the right environmental conditions arrive.

Benjamin Franklin’s famously observed that a people willing to sacrifice liberty for security deserves neither. We have already traveled a long distance down that path. We find ourselves insecure and unfree. The summer riots, the pandemic lockdowns, and the Capitol insurrection force us to acknowledge our loss of both liberty and security, in just one unhappy year. We want to act on what we know.

#liberty #security #militia #Capitol riot #National Guard #Thomas Jefferson #Second Amendment

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