Doomer Doug
TB Fanatic
Doomer Doug is starting the second volume in his Solar Flare series. The first book is called "Day of the Dogs" and is available on Amazon Kindle. The second book in the series was called "Howl of the Dogs." It is no longer published for sale. I followed the advice from a reviewer and combined the first part of Howl with Day. This is the version now available for sale.
I have now started a new second volume called "Night of the Dogs." The following is the first 5,000 words of the new e book. It will take a while to finish it. I just want to get some feedback on it.
PROLOGUE
The collapse of the modern social order was well underway. The Solar Flare destroyed the global electric grids providing the basis for advanced civilization. Mankind was reduced below a pre-1850 level of technology. The result was people started to die. They died on a scale nobody
alive before the Solar Flare impacted could have believed possible. The trickle of death was only the beginning.
What had been called “The Great Die Off” on Internet forums began on April 1st, 2013. The Tsunami of death overwhelmed a world totally unprepared to deal with it. The chaos was everywhere. It showed no signs of abating any time soon. People did what they had to do in order to live through that time of death, disease, chaos, mindless violence, and brutality. A new dark age, worse than the one following the collapse of the ancient Roman Empire in 500 AD, was starting. People did the best they could, but it wasn’t enough.
PART ONE
THE SEA LION IS IN TROUBLE
ONE HUNDRED MILES EAST OF GUAM
SUNDAY, APRIL 1st, 2013
ELEVEN PM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
MONDAY 5 PM GUAM- PST PLUS EIGHTEEN HOURS
INTERNATIONAL DATE LINE GUAM
The Captain and Crew of the United States Navy nuclear submarine Sea Lion hadn’t known what to expect when the Solar Flare hit the Pacific Ocean twelve hours after it hit the United States. They got more than they bargained for.
The preparations for dealing with the Solar Flare hadn’t been too bad, especially considering the kind of pressure the crew was under. The Sea Lion cruised to Guam at its highest speed. The submarine was stuffed with as many supplies as could theoretically fit into it. The Chief was still muttering about the crates of fresh fruit lining the main corridor floor. People were actually walking along the tops of the plastic crates. The Chief was not pleased at this violation of naval protocol. The Captain just waved his hand at the Chief impatiently. He told him this was the last fruit they were likely to see for a while. The Chief waited for the Captain to leave. He then started muttering again. The crew wisely stayed away from the Chief as much as they could.
The Sea Lion dived to its nuclear war protocol depth of one thousand feet. The crew intently checked every single system on the boat. They had secured, latched, checked, and inspected everything they could think of. They did this a second time. The Chief suggested they do it a third time. They didn’t complain too much at this suggestion.
The navigator had calculated the exact time he expected the Solar Flare to hit the ocean where the Sea Lion was. The theory was the Sea Lion would be deep enough to ride it out with few problems. The theory was wrong. The Sea Lion dived. The Sea Lion waited patiently. The Sea Lion then experienced various system failures from the Electro Magnetic Pulse. The Sea Lion found out the hard way that theoretical assessments of EMP damage at 1000 feet underwater were wrong. The Sea Lion was in trouble.
****
Chief Petty Officer Jonson knew the Sea Lion was hit harder by the EMP than he had expected. He knew this since his panel showing the status of the nuclear reactor was flashing warning lights indicating an emergency shutdown was starting. He realized that if he couldn’t safely shut the reactor down it was all over. He also realized that if he couldn’t start it up again, they were all dead. The Sea Lion would slowly sink into the depths of the Pacific Ocean until its hull was crushed. The United States Submarine Scorpion was sunk in the late 1960s during a test cruise. Several decades later, the scattered metal fragments were found along the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. He had no plans to repeat the process.
The senior reactor technician was monitoring the emergency shutdown process. Jonson crossed his fingers and hoped the shutdown would work.
He quietly asked the technician, “What is the water level on the reactor cores?”
Barely taking his eyes off the numerous gauges on the panel, the technician said, “We are at an acceptable level Sir. Emergency battery power is keeping the water flowing over the fuel rods, but I’m worried.”
Jonson nodded before he hit the emergency klaxon for general quarters.
He then hit the intercom and said, “Engineering to Bridge. We have some issues down here Captain.”
The Klaxon continued to sound as Captain Deniro responded with an equally terse, “What kind of issues Chief?”
“Emergency reactor shut down protocols started when the EMP hit us Sir. The shutdown is going as well as can be expected. We are using the backup battery system to keep water flowing over the fuel rod. Sir, the key thing will be when we try to repower the reactor.”
Captain Deniro glanced at the bridge crew around him dealing with a level of chaos he had never before experienced. The EMP surge overloaded the wiring supporting several key systems. He was now standing on a submarine bridge bathed in the red light generated by the emergency lighting system. There was smoke in the air from a number of fires generated when the wiring and consoles started arcing from the surge. It took some frantic efforts, as well as some portable fire extinguishers to get them under control. Damage control reports from the rest of submarine indicated the fires had been widespread, although not serious enough to cause real damage. It would take a few minutes for the air to clear sufficiently for the crew to take off their emergency oxygen masks. The masks and tanks would provide enough air for one hour. If the Sea Lion wasn’t fully operational after that, it wouldn’t matter. They would all be scattered over the sea floor by then.
****
Chief Jonson noted with the calm demeanor expected from naval crew during a life and death crisis the clock was ticking. He took a quick glance at the depth gauge to see how much longer he had. He realized the Sea Lion had dropped 500 feet deeper into the Pacific Ocean while he monitored the emergency shutdown process. If he couldn’t get the startup process underway in the next five minutes, they were all dead. It would be a slow death of sinking to a hull crushing depth during the next one hour.
Captain Deniro had only called him twice over the last fifteen minutes. Chief Jonson appreciated the unspoken confidence this showed. Captain Deniro obviously felt his crew knew what they were doing.
“What is the status of the emergency shut down?’
The Seaman First Class, who Jonson noticed had eyes twice as big as normal, replied in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “We are looking good Sir.”
Chief Jonson felt the first faint whiff of hope enter his mind. The emergency shut-down had worked under conditions well beyond what it was designed for. The Sea Lion wasn’t going to roll over and sink without a fight. Naval tradition always held a ship had a female personality. In this case, the Sea Lion was proving to be one tough bitch indeed.
Chief Jonson hit the intercom and said, “Engineering to Captain. We are looking good on the emergency shutdown Sir.”
Captain Deniro took a final glance around the bridge. He saw his crew looking like firemen, complete with masks on their faces and tanks on their backs. The smoke was still in the air. He hadn’t wasted precious battery power to clear the air. The red light made his bridge look like that scene from the submarine movie “Das Boot.” The Sea Lion was trapped just like that U-boat had been. It was an open question whether the nuclear reactor would start up. If it did not, the crew would have a few more minutes of waiting as they sank to hull crushing depth.
All Captain Deniro said was, “Execute start-up protocols Chief Jonson.”
****
MARCH OF THE TEN THOUSAND
WITH APOLOGIES TO XENOPHON’S ANABASIS
SUNDAY, APRIL 1ST, 2013
KABUL, AFGHANISTAN
United States Army General Parker knew if he was any deeper in the feces, he would need a snorkel. It was a long way to the United States from Afghanistan. He was going to have to march his 10,000 troop remnant all the way there on foot. He had no functional vehicles; he had no air support. He had no logistics support at all. What he did have was thousands of Taliban trying to kill him and his men. He hoped he wouldn’t end up like the famous British retreat from Kabul where one soldier made it. He sneered as he thought about how he had been routed during his retreat from Kabul. Strategic redeployment to the rear was the official term in use since the Vietnam War. He knew he had run for his life under heavy Taliban fire. He knew this was only the beginning.
Fortunately, he had been able to fly out all his civilians, embassy staff, and people other than grunts before Israel nuked Pakistan. He made the decision to fly them to Australia. The shorter turn-around time meant most of his troops were now safely out of Afghanistan. He had roughly ten thousand troops left with him. This was the same number of Greeks forced to retreat through the Persian Empire to safety on the Black Sea. He was headed north through Russia and Siberia. His plan was to reach the Bering Straits and get to Alaska. If he did that, he would write his own version of Anabasis.
****
General Parker had kept the main Kabul airport open as long as he could. The Taliban was not shy about harassing the retreating NATO and American troops during their frantic effort to fly out of Afghanistan. It took continual helicopter sorties to suppress the incoming mortar fire on the runaway. No planes were struck during the take-off. Two Military Airlift Command cargo planes suffered near misses. General Parker hadn’t hesitated to level the neighborhood in Kabul where the 122 mm Russian mortars had fired from. He didn't blink an eye at this clear violation of both NATO and American rules of engagement to minimize civilian deaths. They were leaving Afghanistan to the Taliban. He could hear small-arms fire coming closer to the airport where he was forming up the convoy he would lead north.
The final planes were now taking off and being subjected to small-arms fire. He was getting radio reports his soldiers and marines were engaging Taliban squads close to the airport perimeter. He could see smoke where the government’s buildings were being torched by the Taliban. It wouldn’t be much longer before the Taliban openly controlled both Kabul and Afghanistan. His task at this point was to withdraw his troops north to the border with Uzbekistan. He would use the bridge over the Amu-Darya River. He watched as the final plane flew out of his sight. He would order the retreat to begin and hope for the best. He watched his helicopters make a final firing pass on the encroaching Taliban. They would land, refuel and then head to Pakistan’s port of Lahore. From there, they would fly to the aircraft carrier waiting offshore.
Kabul was being abandoned. The airbase was being abandoned. The military campaign against the Taliban begun in 2001 was coming to an end. General Parker would flee northward and hopefully not get massacred by the Taliban. He had a day or two to get as far north as he could before he lost his mobility. After that, he would just start marching and hope for the best.
****
.
****
The city of Kabul was burning. It was burning before the back blast from Israel’s nuclear strikes on Pakistan hit it. It burned even more after that.
“We have to flee north after the American troops.”
“Have you sent the radio message to our forces in front of the Americans yet?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Load up all the donkeys with the spare ammo and start the men north to engage the infidel from the rear.”
“Our commander on the bridge reports his forward scouts can see the American forces in the distance.”
“How far away are they from the bridge?”
“He reports he will engage them over the next twelve hours.”
“Have they abandoned their vehicles yet?”
“No Sir they have not done so.”
“They no longer have any air cover to protect them from our wrath.”
“Yes Sir. The last helicopters left several hours ago for Pakistan. Our commander says his men are dug in to protect the bridge and hold them in place until we can get there.”
“This is excellent news my friend. Allah has been good to us today.”
****
APRIL 3RD, 2013
TERMEZ, UZBEKISTAN
AFGHANISTAN UZBEKISTAN BORDER
HAIRATAN BORDER CROSSING ON THE AMU-DARYA RIVER
The military convoy was taking hits from the Taliban firing Rocket-Propelled Grenades from a couple of hundred yards away. General Parker could see a number of trucks burning along the road. He knew he had at least one dozen dead from the most-recent attack. It would only get worse now that he had no air cover to patrol his flanks.
If he had to fight his way over the still standing bridge, his rag-tag band might not make it out of Afghanistan after all.
General Parker and his troops impaled themselves on the fixed fortifications held by the Taliban. Parker had no air cover. He had no self- propelled howitzer batteries. He had no armor; he had no vehicles of any type. He only had ten thousand infantry to fight the thirty thousand Taliban entrenched in front of him. The battle was savage. Everybody understood it was a fight until death. Surrender was not an option. The Taliban would behead any American troops they captured. They had been doing this for several years now.
“Sir we are getting heavy mortar fire, but we are nearly to the first line of trenches.”
“How far are the trenches from the bridge?”
“They are about 100 yards from the south side of the bridge Sir.”
“We can clear out the final Taliban on the near end of the bridge with little trouble.”
“Start forming up the troops for a mad dash over the bridge then.”
“Get the engineers up in the front to check for explosive charges under the bridge.”
“Yes Sir.”
****
Although the Taliban didn’t have time to rig the bridge with explosives, they fought tooth and nail to prevent General Parker’s forces from getting to it.
Specialist 4th class Perez realized should have been a dead man by this point during the battle at the bridge.
He was now about twenty feet from several Taliban shooting wildly at him with their AK-47 rifles. His squad was shooting back at them with equal fervor. He carefully crawled forward under a storm of fire that had already killed two of his squad.
“RPG inbound” was barely out of his mouth before the ground in front of him exploded. He was showered with dirt and shrapnel as he heard someone scream in agony. He shook his head to clear it while bullets whizzed by his head. He inched forward until he saw one of the Taliban leap at him with murder in his eyes. The man smashed his rifle into Perez’s helmet before he could roll away. Perez then took his M-16 and pushed it into the groin of the Taliban pounding his helmet with the rifle. He pulled the trigger and was rewarded with a spray of blood over his face. He noticed another of his squad was writhing on the ground with his leg blown off. He had no time to deal with this as several more Taliban rose out of the trench and began shooting at his squad. He shot back. One of the Taliban went down with his face shot off. The second one screamed and jumped on the soldier next to Perez. The two men wrestled in the dirt screaming at each other.
Perez staggered into the trench and shot another Taliban aiming his rifle at him. The Taliban wrestling with the soldier pulled the pin of a grenade and blew them both up. Perez was again splattered with blood. He crouched low and shot another Taliban further down the trench. Many of the squad jumped into the trench beside him and a brutal battle for control began. It went back and forth for several minutes before all the Taliban died.
He radioed back to command that the first trench was now under control. The cost was high. Perez had started the battle two hours ago as part of an infantry company with over 200 men. He could see 50 men around him in the trench. He noted there were no officers in sight. He also noticed the final Taliban forces were less than 100 yards away on the actual bridge. They were starting to shoot RPG rounds from a sandbagged foxhole at the trench.
Perez nodded wearily at the men around him. Men were reloading ammo and taking drinks of water from their canteens. Perez fired a few rounds at the Taliban foxhole. He then joined several other men who were crawling out of the trench towards the foxhole.
It was then he heard the first radio report of a Taliban force coming up from the south. Perez felt his stomach tighten. If the remnant of his company couldn’t force their way through the Taliban foxhole, and onto the bridge, they would be massacred be the force coming up from the south. The eyes of the men around told him they all realized this.
One of the men with an M-60 machine gun a few feet to the left of Perez opened up on the foxhole. Other men opened up with their own weapon until a storm of fire was pouring into the Taliban position. Perez grunted, rose to his feet, and began to run directly at the foxhole. Other men joined him in the frantic effort to close the distance. Perez could see men falling all around him. Somehow, he managed to make it to the foxhole and throw a grenade into it. He was still firing into it when a Taliban suicide bomber blew Perez into small pieces.
****
The Taliban commander was forced to leave one-half of his total force, some 30,000 men, to bring up the rear of his column. They were walking next to the donkeys carrying his military supplies. The terrain of Afghanistan meant that using donkeys and mules to carry supplies was nearly as effective as using trucks. In the post Solar Flare environment he was now operating in, it meant he had a superior logistics capability to the American troops.
The other 30,000 men had piled onto any type of vehicle they could get their hands on. They became the “technicals” seen in the movie “Black Hawk Down.” Large numbers of vehicles had broken down as the Taliban chased General Parker north. More had been destroyed by the Solar Flare in the same way General Parker’s had. The Solar Flare had little impact on the kind of ancient cars and trucks that were common in Afghanistan. They had no advanced computer chips to be melted. Hundreds of pickups, taxis, various sized trucks, motorcycles, cars, and even a few dump trucks, were speeding towards the American position at the Hairatan border crossing. Thousands of Taliban hung on for dear life as they drove over the rough ground. They were firing all the 50-caliber machine guns, 20 mm and 40mm antiaircraft guns welded to the truck beds they had. The fire was inaccurate compared with the return fire coming from the American forces.
The Taliban continued driving recklessly through the intense wall of ammunition coming at them. General Parker had ordered nearly twenty percent of his Bradley Infantry Carriers, Humvees, and tanks to keep their guns pointed south when they were abandoned. He kept a few crews on them to cover his southern flank. The Humvee M-60 gunners could still adjust their aim manually. They took a fearsome toll on the advancing Taliban horde. The other weapons were fired even if they couldn’t be accurately aimed at the onrushing mob.
The Americans were now trapped. Five thousand Taliban were holding the bridge in front of them. This was after 15,000 had been killed in the fierce battle to get control over the bridge. There were another 15,000 headed straight at them. The other 15,000 were either dead, wounded, or running up from the south. General Parker could see from his command Humvee all the bodies scattered over the ground to his south. He could also see his northern push to the bridge had stalled. He could see hundreds of his troops being treated by the overwhelmed medical corps. The troops were lined up on stretchers outside of the abandoned tanks, trucks, Bradley Infantry Carriers and Humvees. He glanced again at the onrushing horde. He was going to become another Custer. There was no way his people were going to make it.
****
United States Army Sergeant Peters realized it was all over. He continued firing his SAW, squad automatic weapon, at the horde of Taliban driving right at his position. He was one hundred yards from the nearest casualty collection point. The medical staging area had been set up in what was the rear away from the ongoing bridge battle. They were a few yards from the front line of the southern battle. It wouldn’t be long before the advancing Taliban overwhelmed his position and got among the men on the stretchers. He knew what that would mean.
He looked around at the twenty men surrounding the abandoned Humvee being used as a fixed defense point. The first Taliban was now less than fifty yards away from where he was crouching next to the Humvee. One of the cars, with Taliban hanging onto it-like fleas on a dog, exploded. He felt the heat from the explosion as he swapped out another magazine and continued shooting. The Taliban began dying by the thousands in front of him. They didn’t seem to care about that. Sergeant Peters had been fighting the Taliban off and on since the original invasion in 2001. He knew they were tough, cunning and eager to martyr themselves against any western soldier they could.
Peters watched a dump truck explode when an anti-tank round hit the windshield. The cab turned into a fireball spraying burning body parts in all directions. The dump truck flipped over and spilled troops on the ground. His men quickly shot them down. Peters calmly noted the first wave of Taliban was now less than twenty-five yards away. One of his men started screaming when an RPG round hit the ground right in front of him. The screams didn’t last long. Peters ejected another magazine, reloaded, and continued shooting at a taxi. He watched as his bullets shredded the taxi. The Taliban spilling out of it didn’t last long enough to shoot back at him.
While he was doing that, several other cars disgorged the men in them. Peters was now shooting the Taliban storming his Humvee. He shot several Taliban in the face. They were now only five feet from him. He could hear more screams coming from his men as they were shot down. There was a pile of dead Taliban forming all along the southern flank directly in front of the vehicle line protecting the American position. Peters watched as more and more Americans engaged in hand to hand combat with the onrushing Taliban. The end was now in sight. Peters had killed fifty Taliban before they rushed over his position and started slaughtering any American they found. Peter’s final thought was it hadn’t been enough.
****
The chaos was complete now. General Parker and his entire command staff had been killed when over one dozen 122 mm mortar rounds vaporized the Humvee they were next to. The northern push onto the bridge failed. The Taliban on the bridge was heavily engaged with the Americans who had been trying to seize it. A series of running gun battles broke out between the Taliban pouring out of their bridge positions, and the Americans currently fighting for their lives. The result was never in doubt.
The remnants of Specialist Four Perez’s battalion were hunted down and killed. They were killed squad by squad by the Taliban. The cost to the Taliban was staggering. By the time the Taliban forces at the bridge were finished wiping out the last Americans attacking them, there were less than 2,500, out of the original 15,000, left. If there were any helicopters left to fly over the battlefield, the aerial view would have shown thousands of dead Taliban. The Taliban's dead were spread out in rows like when a combine harvests wheat. The American dead were clumped together around the vehicles where they had made their last stands. Piles of dead Taliban surrounded each of these final defense points.
The southern flank was overwhelmed first. Once the Taliban pushed through into the casualty area, they began to execute any casualty and medical personnel they found. The American troops fought even more brutally once they figured out the Taliban weren’t going to leave anybody alive. The wounded troops slaughtered the advancing Taliban. The Taliban calmly slit throats, shot men on stretchers and raped any female they could get their hands on. It took several hours, but eventually the Taliban were finished. There were now less than 200 Americans left alive; every single one of them was wounded. The Taliban didn’t care.
****
The Taliban commander was stunned at how many men it had cost him to wipe out the final American troops in Afghanistan. He started the battle with 45,000 men. 15,000 at the bridge were reduced to around 2,500. He deployed 30,000 men in the southern assault. He now had less than 10,000 left. He had lost over 32,000 men to kill 10,000 Americans. If it wasn’t for the 30,000 men in his supply train, he would be completely vulnerable to the warlords he would now have to fight to control Afghanistan. He soberly noted he had won what was called a “Pyrrhic victory.” This was a victory that cost so much it became a defeat. He was going to make the American survivors pay for that.
****
The Americans sat, crouched and lay sprawled on the ground. They were surrounded by thousands of Taliban troops sullenly glaring at them. The stench of death was everywhere. Thousands of American corpses were left to rot in the open. The Taliban wouldn’t bother burying the Infidels they had now defeated. 30,000 Taliban bodies were dealt with using Islamic funeral rites and big trenches. It was now time to officially end the American deployment to Afghanistan. Afghanistan was three for three. The British had been defeated and kicked out. The Russians had been defeated and kicked out. The Americans had also been defeated and kicked out.
There would be a brief ceremony to highlight the American defeat. After that, Afghans could go back to killing each other. They had been doing that for thousands of years by now. The commander was keen to use the ceremony to cement his status as the Afghan hero who had defeated the Americans. He would need this status to consolidate his power. Unfortunately for the Taliban commander, his reign would last less than six months. He would die in a suicide attack by a Shia from Iran. After that, total chaos descended on what had been Afghanistan.
****
The Taliban commander looked at the captured Americans. His face was hard as he reviewed what his victory had cost him. Still, he would salvage what he could from the current situation. He motioned for men to surround the American troops. They began to kick and pull the Americans to their feet. Several Americans were beaten to death in the process. Eventually, they were all lined up and ready for the ceremony. The commander was impressed. They were not showing any weakness. They were not crying, or screaming at the ten hooded men standing in front of them. Many of the American captives were sneering at the Taliban, as they were forced to their knees.
The Taliban commander didn’t feel the need to say anything. What needed to be said had been said with bullets during the battle. The hooded men raised their swords in the air. The swords came down. The first ten Americans were beheaded in complete silence. The heads were thrown upon the ground to the cheers of the assembled Taliban. The process continued until all 200 captive Americans had been beheaded. The American war against the Taliban was now over. The Taliban won.
The Taliban commander started walking south towards the ruins of Kabul. His men followed loaded down with all the loot they had stripped from the American corpses. By the time daylight was fading on the battle field, the only sound was the squabbling of the vultures feasting on the rich bounty of death.
****