There’s light at the end of the Tunnel…

 Hello everyone,

Sorry about the lack of posting. Things have been kind of crazy between my day job and family commitments.

The good news is that book 4, ‘The Lone Star, the Red Banner, and the Rising Sun’, is almost ready to go. The story itself is done and has been sent out to my test readers for review. I’m now working on the appendices and looking at options for a cover.

This means that all the snippet posts will need to be removed, due to Amazon’s rules about outside publishing.

Thank you for your patience, and I will post further once it is ready to release.

D.A. Brock

General Stormcloud gets some bad news

 Sorry for the silence, here’s a small snippet. (Spoiler alert, the Americans and British took Sicily toward the end of 1942.)

February 14, 1943 - Eastern Mediterranean Theater Headquarters, Heraklion, Crete, Kingdom of Greece

“Ike! What brings you all the way out here?” William Stormcloud asked as he shook General Eisenhower’s hand.

Eisenhower was more sober. “Got some news you need to know that I didn’t want to put on the radio, Bill. Can we go to your office?”

“Sure thing, Ike. You look like you could use a drink.” They went into the office, and William went to the liquor cabinet. “What do you want?”

“Scotch, if you have any. You may want one yourself as well.”

Startled by that, William took down two glasses and poured a generous helping in each, putting one on his desk in front of Eisenhower as he sat down. “So what gives?”

Eisenhower sipped his drink, playing for time. “We’ve found out why the Red Cross hasn’t contacted you about the status of your people in Sicily. I’ll be blunt. They didn’t report any prisoners of war because there weren’t any. Sicilian locals have directed our Graves Registration teams to six mass graves so far, all with Texans in them, confirmed by their dog tags. We’ve uncovered at least one thousand bodies, there’s probably more out there. The locals say it was done by the SS, specifically the First Waffen-SS Panzer Division.”

William slammed the expensive scotch in one shot, then stared at the empty glass. After a moment, he spoke. “Thank you for telling me in person, Ike. First SS, huh? The Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler, old brush-lip’s personal bodyguard. Figures it would be them. Saw ‘em strutting around Berlin back when I was at our embassy there. Looked at anyone who wasn’t lily-white Aryan like they were less than road grime. Yeah, I can easily see those bastards doing that.”

“I’ve sent a courier to Washington with that same info, along with copies of all the evidence we have so far. After the war, there will be trials, I can personally assure you.”

“Thank you again, Ike. Can you stay for a day or so? I need to touch base with you tomorrow about our next moves over here. My aide will find a place for you to bed down.”

“Certainly, Bill. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Both men stood, and unusually, Eisenhower came to attention and saluted. William returned the salute.

That evening, just before sunset, William took a large, ornate wooden box from behind his desk, carrying it out to where his Lend-Lease jeep waited. He dismissed the driver and drove himself to the top of the highest hill in the area. He gathered wood and tinder, preparing a small fire, but didn’t light it yet. Instead, he took the box from the jeep and carried it over to the wood. He sat, facing west, then opened the box. He removed his war bonnet and jars of war paint. With the ease of long experience, he painted his face, then carefully set the bonnet on his head.

Just as the Sun touched the western horizon, he lit the fire, then began chanting the Comanche prayers for the dead, and for vengeance.

A Greek goat herder observed from a distance. As William’s chant began, he knelt, crossed himself, and recited the Lord’s Prayer.

Copyright 2026, D.A. Brock

An unusual night visitor

 December 30, 1942, early evening - A middle-class residential neighborhood near Yokosuka Naval Base, Tokyo, Japan

Retired Admiral Yonai Mitsumasa walked casually through the evening twilight, looking for a particular apartment building. He was alone, with no guards or escort. Considering he had been the target of several assassination attempts over the years, this was most unusual. However, one of the reasons he had survived those attempts was that he held the personal trust of the Emperor. Indeed, he was considered by many of those in power to be the last of the Genrō, the unofficial, but powerful, advisors of the Imperial Court. Such men were not trifled with lightly.

The reason he was out in the evening was that he did not wish to be discovered in his current task. He was seeking a man who was currently in bad odor with the senior commanders of the Imperial Japanese Navy. He stopped, double-checking the address his contacts had given him. This was the right building. He entered, walking up to the third floor to one of the apartments. He knocked on the door.

Inside, Captain Takeda Moriji was having a quiet evening after a long day in the supply offices of the Navy base when he was surprised by a knock at his door. He answered, but did not open the door.

“Who is there?”

“That is not important. Let me in, now” was the quiet, but emphatic reply.

Takeda hesitantly opened the door, his eyes going wide when he recognized who was there. “Please come in, sir.” He opened the door just enough to allow Yonai in, showing him to the small dining room table. “May I offer you some tea, or perhaps sake?”

“Sake, please. And bring a cup for yourself, you will need it.”

Takeda’s eyebrows rose again. He brought an unopened bottle and two cups, showing the seal to Yonai before he opened it. He poured two cups. They sipped. “May I ask why you have honored my humble home with your presence, Admiral?”

“You have certain information that has become of the utmost importance to the war. Tell me everything you know about the Republic of Texas, and it’s Navy.”

Copyright 2025 D.A. Brock

1942 ends with a bang

 December 26, 1942, 04:00 hours - Aboard TNS San Jacinto, 175 NM northeast of Truk Atoll, Caroline Islands

It had taken another two days to work out all the details, then another three days of joint exercises to work out the kinks in the final plan. The circuitous route required to avoid tipping off the Japanese had needed another ten days. Aboard the Texan ships, there had been a somber all-faiths service on the 21st in memory of the Christmas Sunday attacks in 1940, then Christmas celebrations with their American counterparts on the 25th. But now, the time for war had returned.

The combined Texan / American force sailed in three groups, each just visible to the others, to allow room for flight operations. First to launch were San Jacinto’s Hailstorm dive bombers, along with Tampico’s Harpoon torpedo bombers, all loaded with a mix of fragmentation and thermobaric bombs, because their job was to attack the many airfields in the atoll, to suppress the air defenses. They were escorted by roughly half of each carrier’s Hurricane fighters. The attack was timed to hit just at dawn.

About thirty minutes after the first wave headed for Truk, the second wave launched from Enterprise and Saratoga, the TBF Avengers and SBD Dauntlesses loaded with torpedos and armor-piercing bombs, respectively. To them would go the honor of the first strike against the Japanese fleet in the atoll.

After another thirty minutes, a third wave was launched, again from San Jacinto and Tampico, using the other half of their striking forces. They, too, were armed for anti-shipping work, to clean up anything the Americans might have missed. In dividing their striking forces the way they did, the Texans were unknowingly duplicating the Japanese carrier strike doctrine, each carrier in a pair providing half of a combined strike group to minimize launching time.

The two remaining carriers, William B. Travis and James Bowie, would provide the Combat Air Patrol and scouting planes for the fleet. Davy Crockett had been left behind to provide air support for the ground forces on Guadalcanal.

There was one more attack force headed for the Japanese island fortress. Several hours earlier, Willis Lee’s battleships, along with Ignacio de Zavala’s First Cruiser Division, the four Galveston class armored cruisers, had parted company with the carriers and were now running at flank speed toward Truk. If things went to plan, they would arrive between the second and third waves of the air assault, ready to apply their own special brand of pain to the enemy.

Copyright 2025, D.A. Brock

October Surprise??

 Time for another short snippet. Things could be getting spicy…

October 3, 1942 - Southwest Pacific Theater Headquarters, Brisbane, Commonwealth of Australia

“I regret that I only have time for one more question. You, there in the back.”

“General MacArthur, I’m Howard Lorain of the Texas Progressive. In several of his recent speeches, Retired General Kincaid, who is running against President Velasquez, has stated that if he is elected he will withdraw all Republic of Texas forces from Europe and send them out here to serve under your command. Do you have any comment on that, sir?”

“I have read many reports of your nation’s military forces, and the feats they have accomplished since this war began. Any General should feel nothing but honor and blessing to have such men under his command. That said, I understand his concern about recent issues in regard to leadership and how your forces have been treated by some other of our Allies. Should such an eventuality come about, I would accept your country’s gift of their arms in aid of our great crusade against the Japanese Empire without question, and with my personal gratitude.

May I say, I’ve known Patrick Kincaid for many years, and it is my great privilege to call him a friend. It is my considered opinion that your nation could do far, far worse than to elect him as your next President.”

“Thank you General MacArthur.”

Copyright 2025 D.A. Brock

Girls and their toys…

 Here’s that new snippet I promised a few days ago…

August 20, 1942 - San Marcos Armory Main factory, San Marcos, Hays County, Republic of Texas

Secretary of War Gonzales-Alvarado sat with Brevet Field Marshals Isaac Hearns and Bob Merwin, along with a number of other senior Army and Marine Corps officers on the shooting range next door to the SMA plant. There was a covered table standing near the shooting lanes. They were soon joined by SMA’s President, George Trevor, Chief Designer Stan Hillman, and, surprisingly, Viola von Stahlberg. The men rose from their seats as she walked onto the range.

“Mister Secretary, Field Marshals, thank you for coming. Today we’re going to demonstrate the final production version of our proposed new rifle for the Texas Army and Marine Corps. We call this version the Rear-Action Short Automatic Rifle, or Razor, for short. We like to think they’ll give our country’s enemies a close shave they’ll never forget.”

“Thank you, Mister Trevor. Mrs, von Stahlberg, may I ask why you are here? Not that the company of a lady isn’t always welcome, of course.”

Viola blushed, then smiled. “Why thank you, Mister Secretary. As for why I’m here, Mister Hillman asked me to help with the shooting demonstrations. Shall we get started?”

Mr. Hillman pulled the cover off of the table, revealing piles of rifle parts. Mr. Trevor continued. “As you will recall, gentlemen, one of the major concerns your Ordnance experts had was with interchangeability of parts. We believe that we have fully resolved those issues. To demonstrate this, Mrs. von Stahlberg will select parts at random to assemble a complete rifle, then take it over to the firing line to try it out.”

Viola stepped over to the table. She began selecting parts, with Mr. Hillman assembling them as she went. He handed her the finished rifle. “Interesting. It’s not as heavy as I was expecting.”

Hillman replied “Your rifle has all the metal parts made from steel, ma’am. We have been able to make many of the non pressure bearing parts out of aluminum alloy, shaved almost a pound off of that prototype’s weight without compromising durability.”

Marshal Merwin asked “How did a civilian get hold of an experimental military rifle?”

“It wasn’t a military rifle at that time” said Mr. Trevor. “Admiral von Stahlberg contacted us a year ago with suggestions for a special rifle for his wife. After we made that one, we thought that with some refinement it might be suitable for use by soldiers or Marines. So we made more of them and sent them to the Army Ordnance office for testing. You know the rest of the story from there, sir. Would you like to try it out, ma’am?”

“Certainly, Mister Trevor.” She laid the rifle on the table and inserted a loaded magazine. She then took the rifle over to the firing line next to one of the posts holding up the roof and nodded, waiting for the rangemaster to give permission to fire.

“Ready on the firing line! Commence firing!”

Viola hooked the rifle’s charging handle on the post and pushed forward, forcing the handle back. When she pulled it away from the post, the handle and bolt snapped forward, chambering the first round from the magazine. She raised the rifle and began firing, leaning forward slightly to offset the recoil. In a moment the fifteen rounds were gone, the bolt locked open on the empty magazine. She laid it on the table after the rangemaster called cease fire.

“What do you think, ma’am?”

“Well, it has somewhat more recoil than my rifle, but I suppose that’s to be expected considering the reduced weight. Might I have another magazine? I should like to try the automatic setting. Mine doesn’t have that.”

“Certainly, ma’am” said Hillman. He handed her a 40 round magazine from a Model 1928 machine gun. She inserted it, moved the selector to the automatic position, and walked back to the firing line. The VIP guests were all staring at her.

“Ready on the firing line! Commence firing!”

She leaned forward again, raising the sights to her eye. As she had been coached to do beforehand, she fired in short bursts, the empty cases flying out from under her cheek. All too soon, she was out of ammo again.

“It can’t be that easy to use” Marshal Merwin shouted.

“But it is, Field Marshal. The rifle’s design make it so the recoil goes straight back, with only a little muzzle climb that can be handled with the proper technique, as Mrs. von Stahlberg has demonstrated. Would you like to try it?”

“Damn right I do, Trevor. But not that one. I want to put together a different one.”

“Certainly, sir. We have enough parts here to make a dozen rifles, enough for each of you to try one.”

Merwin, Hearns, and the senior Ordnance men all went to the table and began putting rifles together. Viola sat down next to the Secretary of War.

“That was an impressive demonstration, ma’am. Obviously you’ve done a fair bit of shooting before this.”

“Indeed I have, Mister Secretary. Something my husband taught me to enjoy. I only wish those had been Frenchmen down at the other end of the range, not mere paper targets.”

“I understand how you feel, ma’am.” He turned to face Mr. Trevor. “George, how soon can you get these things into production?”

“We’re equipped to produce a thousand rifles a week now, Mister Secretary, By the end of next month, we can boost that to three thousand a week, assuming no supply difficulties.”

Field Marshal Hearns walked up, cradling one of the rifles like it was a newborn baby and grinning like a schoolboy. “Mister Secretary, I want as many of these things as we can get. They’re perfect for the airmobile forces.”

“I agree, Isaac. How do you think the troops will react to them?”

“Well, sir, once my Marines hear that the Admiral’s wife shot a passing score with one arm, they’ll be all over them like white on rice.” He nodded to Viola. “Ma’am, that was an outstanding performance. You have a real talent for this. Would you be available for demonstrations to the troops?”

Viola beamed with pride. She really had come to enjoy shooting since coming to Texas, and the events of the last years had reinforced that. “I’m sure something can be arranged, Marshal Hearns.”

Copyright 2025 D.A. Brock

I aten’t ded

 I apologize for the lack of updates. I’ve been tied up with my day job and family issues. I have seen the posts asking if I’m ok, and I appreciate your concern.

One thing that will be happening is that I’m going to split the current book into two, so ‘The Lone Star, the Red Banner, and the Rising Sun’ will be book 4, covering 1942 - 1943, then book 5 will cover 1944 to the end of the war.

The working title for book 5 right now is ‘Texas at the Endgame’. What do y’all think of this?

Snippet coming soon.