Freedom's Sons

by H. A. Covington

  “Well, you’re here now, Janie,” said Magas. “I just wish Marc was around to see it.” Marc Chenault had been Jane’s first husband, an NVA man who one winter’s night was murdered on a cold and rainy street in Vancouver by the notorious CSIS secret police agency.

  “He’s here with us in spirit, comrade,” she replied.

  On July 28th, the NDF crossed over the northern border of British Columbia into Alaska. Ketchikan fell the same day, and on July 31st, the state capitol of Juneau was captured by a combined assault force of SS paratroops and NDF line units who crossed the Gastineau Channel on pontoon bridges thrown up by the engineers, as well as on hundreds of small boats piloted by local white people, in a kind of reverse Dunkirk. Resistance was minimal, and Juneau went down almost without a shot. The governor and some of the state legislature had already fled to Anchorage; other legislators remained in Juneau and received the invaders on the state house steps. Twelve of them then and there renounced their allegiance to the United States and the rump session formally applied for Alaska’s admission to the Northwest American Republic. The United States concentrated what troops they had at Fort Wainwright around Anchorage, while the governor spent hours every night on live television, babbling long quasi-Churchillian rants about fighting them on the beaches and in the fields and the mountains, so forth and so on. He was rather obviously drunk most of the time.

  Then the northward offensive halted as well, and the NDF dug in and began to establish the foundations and infrastructure to bring what Canadian and Alaskan territory had been overrun into the Republic.

  * * *

  The decision to halt the advance during the Seven Weeks’ War was one of the most passionately debated issues ever to confront the NAR’s government and its citizens. To this very day, there are angry and stubborn people in the Republic who remain convinced that it was a mistake, and that the NDF should have marched onward until white rule had been completely restored over all 49 of the old United States of America, with a naval assault on Hawaii planned for later. In a speech to Parliament on the fourth day of August, just before the armistice, President Morehouse explained the rationale behind what had been done.

  In his memorable address, Morehouse said in part; “For many years, back in the days when our Movement was nothing but a few isolated individuals playing with their personal computers, we debated among ourselves the pros and cons of the whole idea of territorial separatism for our race in North America. Long after the whole idea was clearly impractical and impossible of attainment, there were those among us who insisted that somehow we could achieve the old dream of an all-white United States of America, from sea to shining sea, an America permanently frozen in the idyllically perceived past of the Nineteen Fifties, or Sixties, or Seventies, where Beaver Cleaver with his plaid shirt and his cowlick plays with Marcia Brady the cheerleader in her bobbi sox, in an endless suburb of tract houses with two cars in every garage, backyard barbecues, church on Sunday and nary a single gibbering black or brown face to be seen or a single gabbled word in pidgin Spanish to be heard.

  “That was a beautiful dream,” Morehouse went on. “Please understand that I do not mean to mock it, or the small group of elderly people among us who may remember the tag end of it. It is a good thing to retain some fleeting childhood memories of a better way of life. But that dream is gone now, and lest we forget, even when it partly did exist in reality, it was based upon the American destruction of Germany, on our slaughter of millions of our racial brothers and sisters in Europe, and on our handing over untold millions of people of all races to the brutal and bloody sway of world Communism, which was Judaism in disguise.

  “Today, we are again faced with this issue, this dream of somehow taking back the whole of the United States for our race,” Morehouse continued, looking out over the rows of Parliamentary deputies. “Again it was, and is, a noble dream, yet we still must accept that it is only a dream. That is so much harder now, because now we contemplate the future not as a small band of eccentrics with computers, but in a time of glorious victory and power, when it seems that we are invincible and the world is ours to command. And this is the most dangerous time of all for us, for make no mistake, my comrades, my fellow citizens, my Folk, we could still lose this war. Let me tell you how.

  “The first reason I will give you as to why we must cease our advance and be content with what we now have will sound the weakest of all. It will sound crass and petty, and in a sense, it is, but it is nevertheless insurmountable.

  “It is true that we have millions of men and women under arms. They have been victorious on all fronts, and they have added vast expanses of territory to our Homeland in a period of a few short weeks. But never forget the salient fact that compared to the rest of the world’s community of nations, the Northwest Republic is poor, dirt poor! Our taxes are the lowest of any developed nation, and we use our resources to provide for our own population rather than export and sell them abroad. One of the reasons we have been forced to develop our very people themselves as human weapons for our defense is that we simply cannot afford to engage in a high-tech arms race with the rest of the world.

  “The five million or so people we now have in uniform are almost all reservists, who sooner or later must return to their jobs and their lives here in the Republic, or else the country will begin to suffer damage and deterioration from their absence. They cannot be used as an army of conquest and occupation for an expanse of territory the size of North America. Such a lengthy occupation is unsustainable and would eventually destroy us if we attempted it, just as the United States with all its power could never successfully occupy Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, or even tiny Gaza. If nothing else, such an undertaking would simply bankrupt us, and it would destroy the inner human and moral fiber of the nation we have begun to build here in the Northwest over the past twelve years.”

  Morehouse paused in his speech and then went on. “The second reason we cannot and must not attempt to win back the entire North American continent, even from a position of crushing victory such as we now enjoy, is the same one we faced back in our computer-game days, only this time in reality. There are now approximately one hundred and fifty million non-whites of various kinds in North America. What are we going to do with them? No, I mean really, what are we going to do with them? Kill them all? Chase them out? Load millions of niggers into cargo holds on ships, take them over to West Africa and dump them all on the beach? Chase every Spanish-speaking mud person back south of the Rio Grande with guns and clubs? What will we do, really? Before, all this was simply theoretical, but now that the white man does in fact have some military force at his command, we have to examine seriously the logistics involved in all these options that we casually tossed around back in our computer game days.

  “I won’t speak to you of moral considerations, since in view of the terrible damage and destruction these creatures have wrought, there can be no question but that we have the absolute and unshakeable moral right to remove them from North America, however we can. But this is not a moral problem, it is a technical and logistic one, and realistically, it is almost as insurmountable as it was back in the computer days. True, five million soldiers sounds like a lot, but in addition to occupying and administering huge cities and immense territories, how exactly do we use them to exterminate or drive out one hundred and fifty million people? And how many white people will be killed during such an open race war as we would ignite? There are so few of us left that any further depletion of our gene pool through senseless violence urgently needs to be avoided. We are experiencing logistic and administrative problems enough in assimilating northern California and southwestern Canada, and that alone is a project which is clearly going to take many years. I won’t belabor the point. We could kill some of the muds and frighten others out, true, but what we would end up doing is simply making one hell of a mess that would do more harm to the continent’s remaining white population than even the continuation of the present situation.

&
nbsp; “Finally,” Morehouse went on, “We seem to forget that we still have powerful enemies and there is in fact a rest of the world whose opinions and interests we cannot simply ignore. For example, we have received immense help from the commonwealth of Russia during this past crisis, support which has sealed the bond between our two countries begun at our nation’s founding stronger than ever before. But would that bond be so strong when we are no longer defending our own lives and land but are stalking across the continent leaving piles of black and brown corpses as we go?

  “The enemy media and intellectual élite are going to spend the next century accusing us of committing atrocities during this war, and some of the things we have done, such as the use of gas and biological weapons probably fall into that category, yes. But it is crystal clear to anyone, and it will remain crystal clear to anyone no matter how the lefty-libs obscure things in the future, that we were attacked first, and that we were defending our very existence as a nation. But will that distinction be as clear-cut if we invade the United States itself and attempt to conquer them and cleanse the land of racial contaminants?” Morehouse asked.

  “We also need to remember that even though they have been defeated in the field, there in fact remains a United States government and a United States ruling class, a ruling class which is still extremely wealthy and which still commands the shattered remains of a United States military, including the nuclear missiles in those silos in Kansas and Minnesota and North Dakota. A brave young woman sacrificed her life in order to stop those missiles from being fired at us by a deranged man, but if we persist in threatening the power and the wealth of the soulless men in suits who still rule the United States, if we make it clear that we’re going for their throat and that they have no chance for personal or financial or political survival, that we mean to take everything away from them, not just their condos in Seattle but their summer homes on Long Island and their winter mansions in Palm Beach as well, their money and their power and all that makes them who they are, then the doors to those missile silos will open again.

  “The current American administration, as corrupt and full of hatred for us as it is, is sufficiently practical not to want to carry the can for contaminating the entire northern hemisphere with radioactive fallout and being responsible for the death of millions of people, mostly their own,” President Morehouse told them. “We must now show the same kind of pragmatism. It is said that war is only politics by other means, and that’s true, but politics is the art of the possible. This is a strange kind of MAD, Mutually Assured Destruction. The United States of America and the Northwest Republic can destroy one another right now, they through their nuclear missiles and we through our troops and our ability to instigate total race war of the kind that will make the U.S.A. ungovernable and cause their society, already stumbling and battered, to collapse completely. Now is the time for both sides to back off and settle up.

  “I will be speaking tomorrow with the American president, Hugh Jenner. Don’t worry, comrades. I won’t be giving away the store. The Northwest Republic is due a healthy slice of the spoils of victory, and we shall have it.”

  * * *

  On the morning of August the fifth, the two sides finally met, if that is the word for staring at one another on huge wall-sized plasma screens. The two presidents and the two War Cabinets, one set in Washington, D.C., and the other in Washington State, were connected courtesy of a Russian communications satellite. Hugh Jenner still had his arm and foot in a cast. The men and women who around him in the Pentagon Situation Room (the one in the White House had been demolished) were people whom he had dragooned in to fill the places of the slain secretaries and staff members and administrators. They were second-raters and time-servers, politicians and hacks and bureaucrats, because those were all he could get to take jobs that had proven highly hazardous to the health of those who held them. They huddled like Armani-clad sheep, quailing beneath the cold and homicidal stare of the Northwest Republic’s assembled government, mostly bearded men but a few women as well, every one of them including their State President wearing the uniform that bore over the right jacket pocket the eagle and Swastika emblem that once more struck terror into the world.

  “My God, it’s like looking at a Roman legion,” muttered Carl Nelson, the new Vice President of the United States.

  Jenner cleared his throat. “Mr. Morehouse, I would like to…”

  “Shut up, Hugh,” said his old enemy, Finance Minister Ray Ridgeway. (Is that Annette standing behind him? Jenner wondered. God, she grew into a beauty, didn’t she?) “Our boss is going to talk, and you’re going to listen. He’s going to tell you how things are going to be, and you’re going to agree, because you don’t have any choice.”

  Red Morehouse spoke without formal salutation or courtesy. “If this goes on your government, your military, and your whole society are going to bleed out. We both know it. This isn’t just military defeat. It’s not just that we destroyed your ships and your aircraft and your first line soldiers, it’s that you can’t replace them. We didn’t just defeat your armies; we defeated you, all of you. Both of us know this, Jenner, so let’s have a moratorium for once on arrogant American swaggering and boasting. To quote those African-Americans you people claim to love so much, right now you niggaz ain’t shit.

  “Don’t bother to threaten us with nukes unless you’re genuinely suicidal,” Morehouse continued. “Yes, I know, you do still have that final ace up your sleeve, just like we have our phosgene and our anthrax. If that’s the way you want it to play out, we can go that route and everybody dies. Whoopee. Yeah, you can open your football and finish giving those codes Hunter Wallace started reading out a month ago, and I can give an order and have everybody on Pennsylvania Avenue choking to death in their own lung fluid in ten minutes. Let’s take all that as read.

  “Now, here’s the deal,” he said. “Tell your Mexican buddies in Los Angeles when they stop squabbling and sending each other to the firing squads, that we’re taking all of California north of Redding. The Aztecs can have Redding itself, because my people down there tell me it’s a shithole and not worth having. We’ll be nice guys and we’ll also give the Aztecs back what we took of Nevada; it’s useless desert full of nothing but armadillos and scorpions, and it’s not worth maintaining a garrison there. We don’t want Las Vegas. If we got hold of it we’d shut it down. You’re also giving us Juneau, Alaska, and the surrounding Pacific coastal islands. The rest of Alaska you can keep, if the people there will let you. We’re in touch with the Free Alaska Movement, and we have guaranteed their right to opt either for full admission into the Republic or independence, whichever they choose. I believe they’re planning a plebiscite on their state’s future, sometime in the next couple of months. They will have it, and it will be free and fair. Who knows? The voters may decide to stay with the United States. You guys can campaign and use your wonderful democracy, you can bribe and horse trade and do all your little electoral monkeyshines, but if there is any attempt to use force to interfere with the election, or to rig the results, then the NDF goes up there and works you American assholes over. Remember, we don’t need the oil. We don’t use that much of it.”

  Morehouse went on: “Now, speaking of our northern exposure, I will be informing Prime Minister Simoneau that we get all of British Columbia and Alberta below a line running more or less between Edmonton and Prince George. If the Canucks want to say fuck it and just throw in the northernmost sections of those provinces, fine. I don’t know what use we can make of tundra and caribou, but what the hey?”

  “And what does the Canadian Prime Minister have to say about that?” Jenner managed to interject.

  “If he didn’t want to lose part of his country he shouldn’t have helped you dogs attack us,” said Morehouse. “The Canadians have been needling us and trying to undermine the Republic for years, dancing to the Jews’ tune. He and his government need to learn that what goes around comes around. We will negotiate a separate peace with
Canada, but I don’t anticipate any problems. They know full well we can pop the top on our little toys in Toronto and Montreal and Ottawa just as easily as anywhere else. We have enough Canadians on our side who have faced the Human Rights Tribunals who would volunteer to do it in a heartbeat. You will be receiving by e-mail a complete copy of the draft peace treaty terms. I will appoint one of our permanent undersecretaries from the Foreign Ministry to deal with any quibbles you have, but I wouldn’t bother if I were you. He’s just going to say no. You have one week, otherwise we assume it’s still on and we send battalion-sized Flying Columns deep and wide into the United States to see what kind of racial turmoil we can stir up. You don’t seem to have sufficient military forces left to stop us. We can pretty much stroll in anywhere right now and do whatever we want.

  Morehouse leaned forward: “Now, there is one demand of ours that is non-negotiable and which you will fulfill immediately, or by God, sir, we won’t stop coming at you until the NDF is marching down Pennsylvania Avenue,” he said. “You have someone of ours in a freezer locker at the FBI morgue; at least you better pray that you still have her there, because if you have destroyed the mortal remains of Georgia Myers, some very bad things are going to happen. We want her back. We made her a promise, and we’re going to keep it, even in death. That girl is Coming Home. You will arrange through the Red Cross to hand her body over to us at the Helena border post within 24 hours. Tell the Red Cross to contact Major Gustav Hallstrom, the Civil Guard commander in Helena, when her coffin arrives. He will arrange for DNA testing to make sure you’re not trying to play one last chickenshit game with us. Fuck with us on this, Jenner, and I promise you that I will have your balls cut off.” The screen went blank.

  * * *

  The Seven Weeks’ War—June 19th to August 5th

  NDF military casualties—18,765 dead and 24,765 wounded