“I won’t ask him to go, then.”
“What about the rest of B Company?”
The sergeant thought about it. “Trick’s in command now. Can’t ask him or Bravo Squad. I’ll have to think on the others.”
“I’d like to go.”
They turned toward the doorway where Pusher stood, leaning casually.
“Well, now I guess you kinda have to,” said Stug. A knowing smile stretched across her face. It reminded him of the QB’s rare, cynical grin. Why do all women know just how to look at you like they know something you don’t want them to know? he mused.
Stug returned his gaze to Hatch and saw that he was shivering. The October air and bourbon were double-teaming him. The big man carefully laid the second blanket over his lieutenant, pulling it up to his chin and around his shoulders.
Rest well, my friend. We’ve got work to do.
Afterword/Acknowledgments
Unlike Gettysburg, the first Bestimmung Company tale, Susquehanna wasn’t inspired by a single battle from the American Civil War. I did, however, weave various elements from that conflict together into the story, so if you’re interested in that kind of thing, here you go.
In October 1859, John Brown—a firebrand abolitionist who advocated open slave revolt in the United States—conducted a raid on the federal arsenal at Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia. His goal was to secure weapons to facilitate said revolt by arming the slaves themselves. Some historians even view that raid, rather than the firing on Fort Sumter two years later, as the actual beginning of the Civil War. From a contemporary perspective—when everyone should agree that slavery of any kind is not a good thing—Brown might be seen as a freedom fighter. At the time, though, he wasn’t just seen as radical: many considered him unhinged. And the way he conducted his raid—not with the most realistic expectations or best tactical sense—only added to that impression.
After two days, Brown and his raiders were captured when U.S. Marines, led by Col. Robert E. Lee, stormed the armory. (Yes, that’s the same Robert E. Lee who was offered command of the Union army when hostilities first broke out with the South, and whose strategic brilliance, until the debacle at Gettysburg, would nearly lead the Confederacy to victory. History loves irony.) Brown was hanged for sedition a couple of months later. Irony followed him beyond the grave. The music for “John Brown’s Body,” a popular marching tune in the Union army during the war, was repurposed during that conflict. You might recognize its refrain, “John Brown’s body lies a’mouldering in the grave,” by the more popular lyric, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.” That’s right—though hanged for treason against the United States, John Brown inspired the Union’s Civil War fight song “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” You can’t make this stuff up, folks.
In my story, Logan sets his sights on the Transport armory in Columbia (a.k.a. the City) to arm his people, the Wild Ones, for their imminent struggle against the Authority. The idea of raiding the armory of the controlling power is pretty much all I lifted from Brown’s story. Obviously, Logan’s motivation is, from our perspective, a pure and justified one. But I wonder: if anyone were to ever interpret Michael Bunker’s world from the point of view of the Transport Authority, might Logan be seen as a bit lacking in the noggin, as Brown was perceived? Understanding is really all about perspective, isn’t it?
Logan gets his name from a famous Native American of the Old Planet’s Pennsylvanian history. Logan Elrod, who in turn was named after a friend of his father, lived in the middle of the eighteenth century and had a love-hate relationship—or so it would seem; the history is obscure—with whites. He was involved in several campaigns against the white settlers, theoretically launched in response to their having killed members of his family. Part of Lord Dunmore’s War, these reprisals eventually led to “Logan’s Lament,” a speech so well regarded by Thomas Jefferson that he reprinted it in Notes on the State of Virginia. I took the historical Logan’s apparent gift for oratory and handed it to my character (he is a smooth talker), as well as made Logan the de facto champion of the closest thing New Pennsylvania has to an indigenous population.
Will Logan, the leader of the Wild Ones, ultimately save them? Only the future history of New Pennsylvania knows. All I know for sure is, he’s going to give it his best shot. Literally.
Speaking of Native Americans, tribes fought on both sides in the Civil War, choosing to ally themselves, like everyone else, with whoever best served their interests. As I’ve intimated, the Wild Ones represent the Native Americans in the land of New Pennsylvania, and they join forces with TRACE for one simple reason: both have a common enemy in the Transport Authority, which is trying to stamp them out. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that. Hatch raises a good point, though: is arming the Wild Ones a good idea over the long term? The QB’s response is all too common throughout history and often the default position today: “We’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
Even using the Susquehanna River for moving supplies recalls aspects of the Civil War. In that conflict, the ability to move goods by water was vital. A primary Union strategy, known as the Anaconda Plan, was to strangle the Confederate economy by blockading key Confederate ports and cutting off its supply of European capital to fund the Southern war effort. The Mississippi River was another necessary artery for the Confederacy to move goods, men, and materiel, and the Union extended its strangulation strategy by capturing large river port cities, the most famous of which was Vicksburg. So, there is historical precedent in Transport’s obsession with controlling the movement of its citizens. If you think about it, every aspect of our lives relies on transportation—it provides access to work, play, education, goods, and services; even the Internet (remember when we used to call it the “Information Superhighway”?) is a transportation system of sorts, albeit for information exchange. When you lose that freedom, your world suddenly becomes much smaller, your options much more limited. Hence the strategic significance of controlling how and where people moved along rivers like the Mississippi during the Civil War, and Transport’s own obsession with regulating how everyone and everything moves in New Pennsylvania.
My partner in crime from Gettysburg, Dave Monk Fraser Adams, designed Susquehanna’s classic cover. With his design, Dave once again gave us a healthy serving of classic sci-fi, but this time with a bit of steampunk on the side—thanks man!
Ben Adams once again provided three excellent illustrations for this story, as he did for Gettysburg. One thing I really like about Ben’s style is that it looks polished and raw at the same time. He really captures the adrenaline-pumping edginess of B Company’s battles without losing the emotional depth of its combatants, especially the QB. He’s a tremendously talented artist who produces awesome, awesome stuff.
Beta readers are a great asset to any author. They’re a friendly “first audience” that helps you iron out the embarrassing moments in your story before the public points them out in reviews that make you cringe. My first, best beta reader (alpha reader, actually) is my wife, Alison. She’s involved at every step in the writing process—from coming up with the germ of an idea to fleshing it out to getting over the writer’s block in the middle of a story—and she’s always there with insightful feedback and unflagging support. Thank you, my best friend, for always being there when I (and my writing) need you most.
My “official” beta readers were Michael Bunker (the man himself!), Ellen Campbell, Ed Gosney II, Catherine Violando, Kim Wells, and Bridget Young. This story wouldn’t have been nearly as good without their sharp eyes and willingness to tell me when something sounded goofy or was just plain wrong. They gifted me their time in reading and responding to the story, and for that I’m very grateful.
Although not technically a beta reader, David Gatewood, “editor extraordinaire,” also lent me his insights and corrections. If some authors are required reading, David should be “required employing” for writers. He always provides excellent feedback and do
es so with wit and humor. It’s always nice, if you need to take medicine, to have it given with a spoonful of honey to make it go down easier. Even fun, snarky honey, which is David’s signature.
As he did on Gettysburg, my nephew, U.S. Marine Captain and Judge Advocate Alec Pourteau, served again as my technical consultant. I know I can always turn to him with questions about what makes sense and what doesn’t when it comes to military tactics. Thanks, Alec! And Howard Hendrick, my good friend and wargaming buddy for three decades, helped me keep my Civil War facts straight. Thanks, man.
Thanks also to my authorial inspirations who, by example, have shown me what good writing really is and thrilled me with their stories at the same time. C.S. Forester’s Horatio Hornblower series (begun in the 1930s and set during the Napoleonic Wars) created the modern standard for this kind of adventure fiction. Gene Roddenberry was so inspired by its derring-do that he based his own Captain Kirk on Forester’s Royal Navy Captain Hornblower. Bernard Cornwell reinterpreted the military hero contemporary with Hornblower (but on land this time) in his Richard Sharpe series, which follows the adventures of a British rifleman battling the French across Europe. By the way, if you’re a fan of Cornwell, you might have noticed a nod to one of his most loathsome characters in my choice of first names for B Company’s colonel. So, a tip of the hat, Mr. Cornwell, via Obadiah Neville.
And one last authorial salute—I’d be remiss if I failed to thank Michael Bunker for graciously allowing me to continue adventuring in his epic land of New Pennsylvania.
As always, these stories would be the digital equivalents of dusty tomes without you, dear reader. Personally, I’m very grateful you chose to spend your time reading my words. Professionally, I appreciate your support of independent authors by buying and reading our works.
Please consider taking the time to review Susquehanna on Goodreads, if you’re a member, and online where you bought it. Having your feedback helps authors like me. We’d like to know what we’re doing right and wrong. But reviews also help readers like you determine if a book is right for them before shelling out the cash. So really, when you think about it, providing a review is like publishing a public service announcement for your fellow readers. Please recognize that as a real contribution you’re making to the world—and the quality—of independent publishing.
So, it looks like Alpha Squad has some work to do. Stug said it, so it must be true. Stay tuned.
Chris Pourteau
October 2014
About the Author
Chris Pourteau has been a technical writer and editor for over twenty years. He’s published numerous technical articles and several literary essays and short stories. His first novel, Shadows Burned In—a contemporary, Southern Gothic novel published in 2013—has been praised by his fellow independent authors and readers alike. The first tale in the series of Bestimmung Company stories, Gettysburg, has also been well received. Chris lives in College Station, Texas.
If you’d like to let him know what you think about Susquehanna or just want to say howdy, feel free to email him at [email protected] or visit his website at http://chrispourteau.thirdscribe.com/.
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