Closer to fifteen minutes. As the first seven helicopters arrived. Chief Grady thought, what do you know, they’re not perfect after all. Seven Sea King Commando’s configured to carry twenty eight fully armed Marines and two Boeing Chinooks capable of transporting between thirty three and fifty five Marines. They dropped off around two hundred and fifty Royal Marines. Also landing were four Westland Apache attack helicopters licensed to be built by the British firm.
Chief Grady looked on with much relief as these Marines unloaded and gathered in a staging area on part of the grassy park.
A contingent of Royal Marines came up and introductions were made.
“Chief Grady, I’m Colonel Truman Astbury.” They shook hands
“Colonel I have to tell you what a relief it is to see some real military. I have about eighty thousand people jammed into the city and more crossing the lines every day, it is slowing down. That’s means there’s something on the order of four hundred thousand Infected, or already dead outside of this city. I hear they are attracted by lights and noise. So eventually there all going to make their way here.” The Chief related.
“Glad we can be of help, I’d like to immediately send the boys I brought, to your front line to help bolster them until the rest of my units arrive. Then we can make some plans for the immediate future.
I have another wave of Marines coming in by air and about fifty amphibious armored personnel carriers coming in over the beach down by the ferry landing. I believe there is a large enough boat ramp there. After that they should be here in about a half hour or so.” The Colonel announced.
“Sounds good to me.” Chief Grady said.
Colonel Astbury gave a quick set of order to the Marines who accompanied him and most took off at a jog back to their Marines. The helicopters already left when they were talking except for the Apache attack helicopters who were there for fire support.
The inhabitants of Portland for the most part have been staying indoors through this crisis, any that were out and about down by the ferry landing and boat ramp would have seen a sight. Two LCAC’s off the USS Whidbey Island a LSD Dock landing ship carrying five hundred U.S. Marines. Three hundred and sixty were landing on the two LCAC’s which are air cushioned and weight in at around 180 tons, moved in off the water and right up the large boat ramp settling down in the large expanse of a parking lot. Three hundred and eight Marines moved off and immediately formed in marching Order and headed west onto State Street and up the hill past Congress Street down the revers slop into Deering Oaks park where the British had landed also.
Right behind the Americans came fifty British BVS 10, all Terrain Armored Vehicles. These were amphibious and each vehicle pulled an enclosed armored trailer, they drove right up the boat ramp one after other and turned left and travel west on the Fore River Parkway that connects with Interstate 295, so they could drive along the highway and be in position along the length of the Barrier and ready for defense or offensive operations. Those fifty BVS’s carried an additional five hundred Royal Marines and the BVS’s had a Machine gun ring mount on the front powered vehicle with a heavy machine gun mounted on it for fire support.
At the Command post with Colonel Astbury and Chief Grady, they were discussing operational plans.
“Colonel I have police and civilians at road blocks on six bridges including the Interstate 295 bridges at either end, the Casco Bay bridge that goes over the ferry landing, so those boys got a good view of your Troops landing I suppose, the Blue Star Memorial bridge and the train bridge to the south and another train bridge to the north for a total of six crossing points. I don’t have enough men there and the ones I do need a break they haven’t slept in twenty four hours.
“Understood Chief, I’ll send a BVS and squad to each location with a platoon of either British Marines or American Marines. They should be there within the hour, if you could so inform your men.” He asked the police Chief.
“Thank you Colonel.” Chief Grady responded.
“As far as plans go, today I’d like to get my Troops set up and organized onto those bridges and help build the defenses up. Our second Air Mobile Royal Marines have arrived along with the five hundred that came in on the APC’s and the Americans who are just arriving in the park by foot I’m told. That will give us around twelve hundred Marines tomorrow to start conducting offensive operations.
Instead of just advancing and fighting house to house. I’d like to set up some large speakers and lights on top of Interstate 295 facing west and starting around three in morning tonight, start drawing as many in as we can into the killing zone in front of the highway. Then we have them congested enough I intend to hit them from the air with Apache’s and everything else.” The Colonel told the Chief.
The rest of that day units were moved around the city to the bridges and positioned along the Interstate 295 highway and additional defense were built. The residents of the city started to come out and see for themselves what measures were being taken to protect Portland.
Some of the Air National Guard units had formed up in the city to help with the defenses too. Chief Grady figured they had around five hundred civilians or Air National Guard personnel on hand and started forming them into five companies of one hundred with the help of some of the American Marines. The Portland Militia men, as they were now being called, had a least one long gun either a semi-auto rifle, bolt Action rifle or shotgun and most had a handgun. The most common being 9mm, 40 Caliber or 45 Caliber. There was even the 38 caliber revolvers that could be seen. Several dozen diesel trucks and buses were made operational by this time and some were turned over to the Militia and others were put back into service on simplified bus route through the city. By nightfall most of the city had power again. The old city generators that hadn’t been used in thirty years, although they were maintained, were back in use and power throughout much of the city was back on. The biggest problem now was feeding the city and its inhabitants. It was figured the city has enough food and fuel for the generators for about two weeks.
When Colonel Astbury heard about this he asked, “Isn't this a fishing port? You better get those ship out fishing and bring in catches as soon as you can.” He told the city manager.
“Let’s see what first light brings.” Colonel Astbury announced.
***
Westover
This morning, Moosehill Airport was hopping, all the Blackhawk's were ready and spinning their rotors eight C-130’s were lined up on the taxi way and ready to take off. On the grass away from the helicopter pads a hundred or so Troopers were kneeling in the grass all done up for war. Mike walked across the helicopter pads to the first Blackhawk and before stepping in waved his hand around above his head. Fifty five of the Troops off to the side rushed out onto the tarmac splitting up into groups of eleven heading to their assigned Blackhawk. Eleven Troops jumped into Mike’s chopper and he strapped himself into the pilot’s seat. He wasn’t riding shotgun on this one. Once his helmet was on and communications was attached he gave the order to lift off.
“Six Actual to tower, we are in the air and heading west on a heading of 270 degrees true.” Mike called into the tower.
“Roger that, we will send the C-130 up when we get the word.” The tower announced.
“Roger that.” Mike replied.
Twenty minutes later five Blackhawk helicopters flew over the Chicopee Country Club, no one was golfing now thought Mike. Seconds later they flew over the Chicopee Memorial State park then they were over the fence and crossing the main runway of Westover Air Force base. At five hundred feet they had a pretty good view and Mike didn’t see a soul out along the runway or around the hangers or terminal. That doesn’t mean no Infected were around, possibly some could be in buildings. He was sure the surrounding neighborhoods to the south and east will have some and the noise the choppers were making were sure to attract them.
“Blackhawk flight Actual to Moosehill control.” Mike spoke into his radio.
“Blackhawk act
ual this is Moosehill go ahead.” The tower controller said.
“Mission is a go launch them.” Mike gave the go ahead for the C-130’s to get airborne and over here pronto. To the northwest of the main runway were some long large buildings where he assumed were the storage facilities. All units follow me in and land near the front of those large building just off the taxiway.” Mike order the other four Blackhawk.
All five Blackhawk’s landed spaced out near the large storage buildings. The Troops in there BDU’s and combat gear were out of the chopper and forming a perimeter around these building in no time. Mike left his Blackhawk to his co-pilot and followed the Troops over to the first building. Sean Thornton who flew in the second Blackhawk joined Mike at an entrance door to this building. There were several large doors in the side of the building.
“What do you think?” Mike looked at Captain Thornton.
“Let one of the young guys kick it.” Sean said. A big strapping private was volunteered to do the deed.
“Han’s give that door a mule kick right near the handle it should pop the door open.” Sean told the young man.
“Yes sir, Captain.” He said. Sean rolled his eyes still not used to the officer thing, he was a career enlisted now he finds himself a Captain in the local militia, how ironic he thought.
Hans Stinar at Six foot four wasn’t going to let any little door stop him, his boss was watching. So he backed up to the door and placed his size fourteen foot on the door to line it up, drew his leg and foot forward then thrust it back with all his might. The door flew open with enough force to kill someone if they were standing behind it.
“Excellent Hans.” Captain Thornton told him. Mike and Sean looked in, luckily there were occasional skylights otherwise the cavernous building would be in complete darkness.
Mike had a huge smile on his face. “Will you look at that Sean what a pretty sight?” He voiced. Mac stepped further into the large storage area it was at least the size of two football fields.
“Boss, we hit the lottery. Okay you goons spread out and search this place thoroughly, I don’t want any surprises.” Mac sounded off. He then assigned a Sergeant to take an inventory of what’s in the building. Mac and Mike walked back outside and over to the second large storage building of the three and was doubly astounded by the loot in that building. The third building had the biggest surprise of all. Mike couldn’t believe there luck.
“Mac this is unbelievable, we don’t even have enough pilots to get this all home.” He estimated.
“Your right Mike, we can make more than one trip. Where not leaving any of this behind.” Mac said. They just stood there staring up at the contents in Building three.
The Sergeant assigned to inventory being no idiot grabbed a half dozen others to help and in short order had list of item in each warhorse. He approached Colonel Mohan who he greatly respected and handed three sheets of paper over to him.
“Thanks Sergeant.” Mike looked at the first sheet labeled Warehouse number one. On the page was written sixty UH-1N Iroquois Ch135 twin Huey, then under that was fifteen Chinooks unknown what variant. Then ten OH-58D Kiowa’s Scout Helicopters. Also on the page was numerous crates of spare parts.
The second page held Ten C-130 Transport.
The third page held seven C145A Sky trucks and four Fairchild C-123 Provider Military transport.
Mac broke the spell by telling Mike the eight C-130 from Moosehill were on final approach. Great.
“Is the area secure Mac?” Mike asked.
“As far as we can tell. I’d like to get the Mechanics working on the first building first. We have enough pilots to move the Huey’s and the Kiowa’s. The rest will have to be a second trip.” Mac reckoned.
“I agree with you, so let’s get this moving. Mike yelled for someone to get those large overhead doors open.” He was told they needed the C-130 first. There were two generators to supply power to open those doors.
The Troops not out back on perimeter duty all watched the C-130 come in and land on the longest runway at 11,597 ft. They came in one by one with half a mile separation. At the end of the runway on the north side they taxied them down across the front of the building Mike and the soldiers stood in front of. The C-130’s then turned away so the rear ramps were facing the building about a hundred yards away.
The ramps came down and the other fifty or so soldiers came out and marched over to Mac. Who assigned them to perimeter duty, and some to go check out the far hangers where the C-5 Galaxies are parked. Also near the C-5 were eight Boeing C-17 Globemaster III. Too bad they couldn’t take any of these large aircraft. Spencer Airport was just too small to handle something that size. A hundred pilots also came down and went to help the thirty or so Aircraft Mechanics that Mike has had trained or scrounged from elsewhere.
Twenty minutes later Captain Fred Masters retired USAF, found Mike over by the control tower with a security team looking around that area.
“Colonel Mohan, I just spoke with the mechanics and the consensus is they can get the Huey’s and Kiowa’s ready for flight in around four hours. That’s just transport ready nothing else, they were kept in great condition here, but they all need a full workup back at the base. One thing we need fuel, everything else we need is right here in the hanger.” Master told Mike.
“OK Fred, I’ll get you the fuel. Get those birds in working order.” Mike ordered.
Mike already found the fuel depot and it had a million gallons of aviation fuel from what he could tell. Now he needed to find some fuel trucks, and get the whole thing working.
Four hours later, the four working fuel transports were taking on fuel from the underground fuel tanks, and transporting fuel to the Huey's, which were dragged out on sleds into the open.
“Mac send the helicopters out as soon as there ready, and send one transport back to bring the pilots back here after. We are not done by a long shot.” Mike told Mac.
Within the hour, sixty Huey helicopters and Ten Kiowa’s Scout Helicopters were in route back to Moosehill along with the C-130 to return them. The Mechanics and the rest of the pilots starting working on the C-130 Herc’s and the Chinooks.
By two in the afternoon Mike could hear the roar of the returning C-130’s engines as it came in low over the end of the runway and touched down then turned onto the taxi way and parked next to the other Herc’s. All seventy pilots came out the back and right back to work preparing the Chinooks and the C-130’s for transport. Mike thought he couldn’t be prouder of these men.
While Mike and some of the Troops were looking around they found several other finds. A warehouse full of Meals Ready to Eat or MRE’s. These were combat rations that came in one of twelve dishes with sides, they usually had a life of about five years. The dates on these cases indicated they still have four years left. Mike designated some of the Troops to start loading cases onto the birds.
The other find was an Armory for the base that was left open, who knows why. Inside was over two hundred M-4 rifles, forty Saw’s, sixty M60’s in door gunner configurations that must have come off those helicopters. Also several thousand rounds of ammunition for each and every weapon.
Mike had one whole C-130 dedicated to just the weapons and ammo. When the Moosehill C-130’s landed two of them carried two M113A2 for security. They had dispersed out with a squad on each around the perimeter. There has been no problems so far which he thought was unusual. Nothing ever goes this easy Mike thought. The thought was barely out there when he received a call on his radio that they have a problem at the front gate over by the C-5 Galaxy’s where one of the M113A2 was stationed guarding that area. Mike called for the other M113A2 in the area and a platoon of soldiers to head over to Eagle drive by the front gate. There is a large circle road called Ellipse Drive behind the gate. The APC calling for assistance was parked on that road behind the entrance gates to the base.
Mike, his aide Jake, and a two man security team hitched a ride on top of the M113A2 to the main gate. While they were
driving over there he told Mac on the radio to spool up a Blackhawk and have it ready to intervene if necessary.
On arrival Mike and his crew jumped off. The two M113A2 were angled and parked with about fifty feet between them. The gate was around seventy feet in front of the APC’s. The Sergeant in charge of the six man squad from the first M113A2 came over.
“Colonel a Biker rode up to the gate and asked us what we were doing here. He told us to get out this was their territory. Then he roared off down the road. That was right before I asked for assistance. We’ve been hearing from that direction a lot of Harley Motor Cycle engines. I use to own one I know what they sound like. Whoever they are there gearing up to hit us.” He expressed to Mike.
“Okay, everyone listen up take cover behind the APC’s, gunners don’t shoot the 60’s until fired upon, then open up hell on them. Sergeant take you men behind our APC, I’ll be with the other. If they attack and if they fall back we advance behind the APC until the next intersection. Understood. Oh if this is what I think it is they won’t show any mercy. So don’t hesitate to put them down.” He told Sergeant Herb Ullirch.
Within a minute around one hundred motorcycles, mostly Harley’s came roaring down toward the gate and stopped at the last minute. Two bikers wearing leathers and some kind of rockers on the back. Mike didn’t care what gang they were in, they are predators taking advantage of the situation.
“Stop right there.” He called out from behind the front of the APC he rode up on.
“You have no business here so move on before you get hurt.” Mike yelled over to them. He could see that most of the bikers carried some kind of long guns. Some carried Ar’s some had shotguns and most carried semi-auto pistols.
One of the bikers at the Gate yelled. “I told you to leave, we gave you a chance now you’re going to have to pay. If you drop you weapons walk away from the tanks and anything else you have, you can live and walk away. Otherwise you’re dead.” The biker yelled.
Moosehill Militia (Book 1): INFECTED Page 19