Qymaen

I've begun writing a fictional story about the US invading France causing a World War. The actual cause of the war is given in the story, though. This is not a historical story, but it doesn't take place that far into the future so if you are interested in my tale of war, read on.
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Bay of Biscay
Carrier Strike Group Two
USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71)

Captain Tonya Parsons was happily dreaming. She was dressed in her sexiest lingerie, a red negligee that hugged her body fantastically, and her fiancée, Guus Seelin, was chained to their bed. The love of her life had no clothes on except for those dastardly boxers. The 23-year old African-American licked her lips hungrily and pounced onto Guus, but before she could remove his boxers a blaring sound shattered her fantasy.

Tonya shot up from her bed. She knew that sound. It was the klaxon played specifically for pilots like her and the flight deck crews aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt. She flew out of bed, put on her flight suit, and rushed towards the flight deck of the huge supercarrier. As she climbed up the metal ladder to the flight deck she checked her watch. “What the hell are we doing up at five in the morning?” she muttered to herself. “Drills aren’t for two more hours.”

Tonya crested the opening at the top of the ladder and burst out onto the flight deck. She searched for her jet, an F/A-18C Hornet she’d nicknamed ‘Simão’ in honor of her father, Simão Parsons, a former cop who’d been killed during a shootout with some bank robbers back when she was a little girl. After a few seconds of searching she saw the Simão near the front of the flight deck and ran towards the sleek and powerful aircraft.

When the pilot reached her jet she quickly climbed up the ladder put up by one of the Hornet’s mechanics, Billy Frencter and Janet Dobson, and hopped into the canopy. After checking the flight systems of the Hornet she pressed a button and checked her helmet as the canopy of the fighter jet closed. After the canopy was securely closed she flicked on the comm.

For a few minutes there was silence before the commanding officer of the Carrier Strike Group Two, Rear Admiral Dua Amjad, spoke up. Pilots and personnel of Carrier Strike Group Two I regret to inform you of a terrible event. As you all know few months ago the USS John C. Stennis was grievously damaged by a series of explosions. NCIS hasn’t confirmed how many explosions there were, but it is estimated there were at least 32 different explosions strewn throughout the Stennis. The explosions were mostly concentrated in three areas, the main engine room, the island, and the flight deck of the Stennis.

There was a moment of silence before the Rear Admiral began speaking again. A few days ago NCIS found evidence that proved that the near-destruction of the Stennis was committed by French special forces under specific orders received personally from the French President, Veronique Blanchett. Over 3,000 men and women died because of the actions of a terrorist.

More silence. In a few minutes you will all be at war with the French Fifth Republic. The first ally of the United States of America is now our sworn enemy. While fighting the French remember the Stennis and her sailors and pilots. God speed.

Captain Tonya Parsons sat in the cockpit of her Hornet, shocked. I can’t believe we’re going to war with France. she thought dimly, turning off her comm.

After a few minutes she grasped the gold necklace draped on her neck. “I’ll make you proud, Dad.”, she whispered. After a short prayer Tonya flicked the comm on and channeled back into the frequency of the Carrier Strike Group. She looked over the edge of the jet to see if one of the deck officers would give her the OK to roll onto the flight deck. The officer gave her a thumbs up and she rolled the Hornet onto the flight deck.

She waited a few minutes until the catapult hook was secure and throttled the engine. She felt the jolt of the hook letting go and ignited her engines, rolling down the flight deck slowly pulling back the throttle as the Hornet flew off the edge of the Roosevelt. As she sliced through the sky, Tonya switched to the frequency of the flight she commanded, Thunder Flight.

She waited for her flight to all get into the air before speaking into the helmet’s mic. “Thunder Flight, this is Thunder One. I repeat this is Thunder One. I need a sound off.”

Lieutenant Mike Winauts, one of her wingmen, was the first to speak. Thunder One, this is Thunder Three. I’m here. All systems are good to go. Then Lieutenant Lucy Winauts, her other wingman, chimed in. Thunder One, this is Thunder Two. All systems are green. For the next twenty seconds the rest of Thunder Flight sounded off. Third was Thunder Four, Lenni Giasoppi, fourth was Thunder Six, August Domskowski, and fifth was Thunder Five, Rania Amjad and the younger sister of the strike group’s commander.

Thunder Flight was split into two sections. Section One, led by Tonya, consisted her and the Winaut twins. Section Two was led by Lieutenant Rania Amjad and consisted of Lenni Giasoppi and August Domskowski.

After a few moments of silence, Tonya’s radar started beeping. Luckily for the strike group the main French aircraft carrier, the Charles de Gaulle, was in port in the city of Brest. The only true threat to the complete domination of the seas by the US Navy around France would soon sink under the waves of the Atlantic.

Around 0409 they approached the city of Brest and Giasoppi was the first to spot the aircraft carrier. After confirmation Tonya channeled into the flight’s squadron’s, VFA-37, frequency.

“Ragin’ Leader. Ragin’ Leader, this is Thunder One. Thunder Four has identified Frog One. I repeat Thunder Four has identified Frog One. Requesting permission to engage.”

Ragin’ One’s, or Major Rajesh Delhi’s, reply was immediate. Negative, Thunder One. Our mission is to clear the way for the Harrier’s and that’s exactly what we’ll be doing.

“Understood. Thunder One out.” said Tonya beforeswitching over to Thunder Flight’s comm frequency. “Thunder Flight, our attack is a negative. I repeat the attack is a negative. Section One will concentrate on the ships surrounding the de Gaulle. Section Two, go for the submarines in dock. Understood?”

They all gave back various forms of acknowledgement although Lenni’s was given grudgingly. Staying on the frequency Tonya checked her weapon system one final time before accessing the targeting HUD in her helmet. She decided to arm her sidewinder missiles first. As the Hornet neared closer and closer to the aircraft carrier, Tonya selected a frigate, the Dupleix according to her targeting system, and began her descent into war.

At about .45 miles away she launched two of her sidewinder missiles at the carrier before banking away to her left. She was followed Mike, who had fired his own Sidewinders at a frigate by the name of Cassard. Mike whooped into his mic. Cool it Thunder Three, said Lucy Winaut in her distinctly southern voice, we ain’t done with the froggies yet.

As the banter ended Tonya looped around for second pass at the French fleet when she saw her sidewinder smash into the bow of the Dupleix, creating a billowing cloud of orange, yellow, and gray. “Wooh! That is one pretty site. Thunder Two, it’s your turn.”



Bay of Biscay
Carrier Strike Group Two
USS Wasp (LHD-1)

It was four in the morning and Lieutenant Aoi Tanaka was looking out at the Bay of Biscay over the railing of the USS Wasp. The waters were incredibly blue and the sky was clear of any clouds with a gray dinginess to them. The lieutenant had never seen anything so beautiful. It was certainly a far cry from the relative ugliness of the waters in San Francisco Bay and the fog that settled over the bay and much of the city early in the morning.

Behind him Tanaka heard footsteps. He slowly turned around and saw none other than the captain of the Wasp, Captain Filamena Boylan. Tanaka snapped rigidly to attention. “Ma’am.” he said. The olive-skinned woman merely smiled softly and ordered to stand at ease.

“Sure is a lovely morning. Ain’t it?” The Japanese-American merely nodded as the captain continued on. “You know, I’ve never seen waters so blue. When you grow up in New York City you get used to water looking like wet ****.” Tanaka laughed at this a little louder than was necessary, leaving him various shades of red.

As the laughter turned into ‘hiccups’ of laughter, the klaxons aboard the Wasp began blaring. Boylan gave Tanaka a brief look before heading off to the bridge. Tanaka briefly looked her way before heading to the flight deck of the Wasp. They both knew what was happening. It was go time.

Along the flight deck were dozens of SH-60 Seahawk helicopters. He quickly found the six helicopters assigned to his platoon and hopped into the closest one. Before he acknowledged the marines inside the helicopter Tanaka went straight to the armory box and pulled out a Barrett REC7 Assault Rifle. The black, M4 Carbine-based weapon was the epitome of American military assault rifles. He pulled out some magazine clips and placed them in his ammunition pouch.

After making sure the safety was on he acknowledged the other marines within the Seahawk. Inside the helicopter were Scott Langston, Arthur Milliken, Jared Tillun, Aaron Frost, Donald Gordett, and Kathy Anne Roethke. Langston, Milliken, Roethke, and Frost were all in Tanaka’s squad, First Squad. The other four members of First Squad, Caterina Giasoppi, Daniel Wu, Lawrence Redox, Juan Aguíla, and Herman Neale, were probably in the other Seahawks on the Wasp’s flight deck.

A few minutes later the doors on the Seahawk closed and the helicopter lifted off towards France. About an hour had passed by when Sergeant Milliken tapped his shoulder. “Sure is a good day to die, eh sir?”

Tanaka just stared at Milliken. Arthur Milliken was a small kid. Barely past twenty, he imagined war as a grand adventure and that he could defeat anyone and everyone. Hell, he’d boasted about how he’d “kick the enemies of America in the ass” often enough.

Unlike Milliken, Tanaka had no illusions to what war was. Back before President Obama had pulled troops out of Afghanistan in 2014 the lieutenant had served his first two tours of duty out in Samangan province in northern Afghanistan. It had been four years since then and Aoi was still having nightmares about what happened in that hellish land.

Realizing the path he was going down, Tanaka shook his head clear of the dark thoughts. He needed to be clear of mind before the Seahawk touched down in Crozon.

About thirty minutes had passed when the pilot of the Seahawk, a Lieutenant Desmond Miles, spoke on the intercom. “Thunder One. Thunder One, this is Copper Four. I need a clear way into Love Mother. Think you can escort us, and the rest of Copper Squadron, to Crozon?”

The reply was almost immediate. Copy that, said a female voice, give us twenty seconds and we’ll cover your tail.

As the French coast grew closer Tanaka was stunned by all of the black oil leaking into the sea and all of the orange flames lighting the early morning sky. Had the attack been so successful?, he thought silently.

Just then Miles’ copilot, Sergeant Lucy Stillman spoke up over the comm. Boys looks like the French are waking up. We’ve got Dassault Rafale’s bearing down on our flight. Looks to be about four. Hopefully Thunder Flight can keep them busy.

Stillman’s wish, for the most part, came true. Only one of the Seahawks, Copper Seven, was downed before they reached the area just outside the French town of Crozon. Second Squad, who’d landed first, had already cleared the town as the Seahawk carrying Tanaka set down. After instructing the marines not a part of first squad to find their own squads, Tanaka approached Sergeant Herman Neale, a member of first squad. Herman Neale was a tall man. At six feet and seven inches, the African-American towered over Tanaka and most of the members of first squad.

“Neale, have you seen the rest of First?”

“I ain’t seen no one except for Doc.” Doc, or Jacob Wellsey, was the platoon’s senior medic.

“****! This is what I wanted to avoid. Ok.” He said, turning to the marines who hadn’t left, “You four go find other members of first. Neale and I will speak with third. Looks like our plans have been changed. And no matter what we meet back here in seven minutes. Understood?” With various forms of acknowledgement the six went their separate ways.

Ten minutes later all of first squad was reassembled. Neale had set out a map of the area indicating the positions of Charlie Company (of the 1st Marines Battalion, 6th Marine Division) throughout Crozon and the surrounding area. Right now Second Platoon, led by Tanaka’s good friend Lieutenant Noah Hyatus, was securing the area to the direct north of Crozon. However, from the radio chatter they were receiving Third Platoon was having trouble pushing through the village of Saint-Guénolé to the east. Looks like the village was holding some sort of a police convention for the lower peninsula and the officers were putting up a good fight.

After some minutes of talking on the radio with Hawkeye, Headquarters Company of the 1st Battalion, Tanaka had his orders. “First Squad!” he called out, “We and Third Squad will be heading east to help out Third Platoon. Keep your eyes and ears open. From what I received over the radio one of the cops is a pretty good sniper, almost as good as Bobby Denude from Second Squad.”

The faces around him momentarily transformed into shock, Robert Denude was the best shot in Charlie Company, maybe even in all of the 6th Marines. Silently chuckling, Tanaka took the lead and First Squad left Crozon for their first chance at action.







So tell me what you think of the story so far. Things you liked or disliked, problems in grammar and structure you saw, or what you feel is inaccurate or just plain wrong. But, also, don't forget to comment on what you liked.