Divided States: Battle Cry

[Nomad-22]

March 8, 1937, Monday
Southern California, USA
​

The sun rose high over the sky in the midday. Below a dark 1931 Auburn 8-98A Brougham drove on a small country road. The driver, was a dark haired young man with brown eyes, twenty two years who wore a green marine uniform. With both hands still on the wheel Petros noted a makeshift settlement up in the distance spread out by several yards on a field.

As he drove on the sight of a half starving mother helping her child through the small stream came into view. "Things haven't gotten better here since I left." Petros said to himself with a grimace. After enlistment and basic training he was sent overseas, serving in eastern China. Only recently had Petros managed to return to California after nearly three years.

Some of the folks, young and old in the shantytown looked up at the car passing by their camp. Their expressions varied from desperate to bitterness but all seemed equal in misery. The young corporal looked away, believing there was nothing he could do. It was one thing to read the news about the ongoing Depression in the papers or hear on the radio back in Shanghai but see it all again firsthand was a bitter pill to swallow.

Shaking his head Petros instead turned on the radio to take his mind off what he just saw. Changing the channels until he came across a song by Judy Garland and listened for a few minutes and thought. She got talent I'll admit. However, just as he made a right turn, toward a nearby small town the car suddenly stopped its tracks with a dying cry.

The violent motion caused Petros to hit his head on the wheel. Grimacing and saying a few choice words out loud to himself the marine rubbed the forehead. Getting out of the Auburn he went over to the hood as it was letting out smoke. Reluctantly he opened it and swiftly fumes bombarded his face and nostrils.

Stepping back and waving at his face with his hand Petros coughed before scowling. "Should've not have trusted that salesman! The engine was supposed to be brand new. Next time I see him I'll wring his fat neck." He squeezed his fists in mounting frustration, angry at both the salesman and himself

He had been granted leave for a few days to go see the family up in Pasadena. The marine hadn't seen them in years and was hoping to come home quickly as a surprise. Closing his eyes Petros took a breath and sighed, calming down.

Hopefully there is a mechanic in town or at least a working phone to call one.

With that conclusion Petros walked back to get his bag. He wasn't taking the chance that someone won't steal given the desperate times. Subsequently the twenty two year old proceeded to walk toward the town.

 

[CoyoteJester]

"Daddy, I'm going to town for a bit!" Vivian, or 'Vi' as her dad liked to call her, called out, patting her face down with a towel after having cleaned herself of all the dirt and dust she had gathered from outside. "Alright pumpkin" he replied simply, raising his arm above the high back of his chair, holding a list of things for her to grab while she was out.

After grabbing the list, giving her father a kiss on the forehead, and making sure she had her driving goggles, Vi headed out the door. It was a simple life they lived, but it was an honest one. With her mother having passed a few years ago, and her only brother having joined the navy, it was just Vivian and her father left to hold down the fort. Yes, times were hard right now, but they were doing what they could to get by best they can.

Stepping off the porch, Vi threw a quick glance back towards the field, making sure to count herself as blessed for the fact that they still had enough crops to both feed themselves and sell at market. In the paper, she had read about how giant dust storms had swept across the Midwest, decimating farms in the area. apparently, hundreds of thousands had fled their home states towards California, hoping to find better luck here. However, she knew that there really wasn't much work to be found, and even less so for those migrating in.

However, the crops were still growing, the cows were still producing, and the chickens were still laying eggs, and for that she considered herself lucky. With that, she fixed her goggles and made her way over to the car. It wasn't much, just an old 1920 Model T that her dad had traded for sometime back. However, it still got them from point A to point B, and that was enough for her.

It was a bit of a drive, but eventually, Vivian had arrived in town. Her first stop was a small diner that she was quite familiar with. Lucille's was a simple place, but many a Sunday after church had been spent here. As a child, she remembered the place being filled with the sounds of laughter and glasses clinking and silverware against plates. But now, it was almost heartbreakingly quiet, with only a few patrons scattered here and there.

Not letting that deter her, Vivian sat down at the counter, and soon enough was met with the familiar face of Laura Turner. A little bit of an older woman to be sure, probably somewhere in her 40's by Vi's guess, but still holding on to what was undoubtedly more than her fair share of beauty, despite the efforts of both time and stress. Having grown up in Texas, Laura's voice still held that charming southern accent that flowed so elegantly with her naturally sweet voice, and it never failed to put Vi at ease.

After a little bit of idle chit chat, Vi placed her order and shortly after was presented with some food and a Cola, a rare treat for her, but one she availed herself to whenever she could.

 

[Nomad-22]

After more than twenty minutes of walking down the dirt road Corporal Sahakian finally reached the town. With the bag slung over his shoulders Petros pressed, moving across the first street onto a pavement next to what he assumed to be some kind of shop. Even for a small place it seemed pretty empty to him. There were barely anybody around and about.

Moments later he saw a few people spread out in the distance from other sidewalks or moving around inside their homes or stores. No one paid him any mind as he marched on. "This place is barely hanging on." He murmured but said nothing else.

It made Petros grow more concerned with how his uncle, aunt and cousins were doing. Sure there were letters and some photos exchanged while he was in the Far East but he always had a feeling that they were not telling him everything that's going on.

They probably didn't want me to worry. I can't help it with all the news coming out here in the states.

He then chance upon a newspaper stand and the headlines on each one was read; Iron Eagle rally at Madison Square Garden. Petros stopped and frowned at the picture that displayed thousands of men standing in formation. They wore silver colored uninforms with dark side caps and boots. The marine frowned noting the roman salute they each displayed with their hands and the determined expressions on their faces.

He spit to the side with disgust and walked on not wanting to read the paper anymore. Them and the Reds can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. Turning the next corner a little diner came into view. Nodding with approval Petros made his way over there. Taking off his service cap, revealing black hair on top he entered inside with a bell. Immediately the few people inside glanced over to him in mild curiosity. To say he stood out like a sore thumb would be putting it mildly.

To avoid further awkward silence Petros walked over the lady behind the counter while holding his cap with both hands.

"Pardon me ma'am do you folks have a mechanic in town or is there a phone I can use?"

@CoyoteJester

 

[CoyoteJester]

Laura had been busy scribbling something down on her small notepad when she heard the bell ring. At first not moving her head, her dark eyes moved to follow the stranger, who very quickly had her full attention. For a moment, she didn't say anything, instead taking a second just to take him in. She recognized the uniform, as plenty of the men from town had enlisted, but the body it was covering was new. Sliding the notepad into a pocket on her uniform, she now leaned against the counter as she spoke to the young man. "Well, there is a mechanic around, just a few blocks down as a matter of fact. He may not be a whole lot of use to you though. What with the rough times going 'round and whatnot, poor fellow's taken to the bottle. You'd probably find it easier to take oats away from a starving mule than it is to get that bottle away from him."

Vivian, who at this point had only been merely listening, now piped up. "If it's your car you're needing fixed, I can probably lend you a hand." She slid off her chair and approached the young man. "Vivian Keller." She said simply, sticking her hand out in greeting. "Can't say I can guarantee you anything, but I've got tools in my car and I'm a fair hand when it comes to fixing things."

 

[Nomad-22]

Petros grimace when told that the town's mechanic wouldn't be of any use. Just my luck. The corporal was about try for the telephone closeby when a young woman sitting at a booth spoke up, offering to help if it was car trouble. A bit surprised he raised an eyebrow in question at the lady.

I don't know many women who do mechanic work but I admit it's not impossible. Not that I'm complaining though as long as she is telling the truth.

Keeping that observation to himself he watched her approached and raised her hand to shake and introduce herself. Not wanting to ruin his chance to get the car fixed soon as possible Petros quickly shook the offered hand.

"Corporal Petros Sahakian and yes it's car trouble. Whenever you're ready, we can be on our way Miss Keller."

@CoyoteJester

 

[CoyoteJester]

"Well nice to meet ya Corporal." Vivian said with a smile, choosing to ignore the look on the man's face that she knew was doubt. She didn't really let it bother her, however. Plenty of people weren't exactly used to a woman doing man's work, but when it was just her and her father, everyone had to do what needed to be done.

Following Petros outside, Vivian shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls and turned to face him. "So, is your car around here? If not, I can give ya a lift in mine." She said, thrusting her thumb in the direction of the dirty Model T just a few yards away. "Also, if you don't mind my asking, what brings you to town anyway, erm, minus the broken down car?"

 

[Nomad-22]

At the first question Petros sighed. "It's outside of town, a couple of minutes from here. I'll show ya the way." He looked over at the old T model that Vivan had. While surprised it was still functioning Petros didn't complain.

I take it as a sign that her claims are true.

Subsequently the young lady asked him why he was doing in these parts beside the obvious. As they walked toward the T model Petros answered, scratching the back of his neck that was itching with the free hand.

"Well was trying to make a shortcut for Pascenda up north. As you can tell already that plan has worked out spendialy so far."

Sarcasm aside the corporal noticed how rough the town looked, with walls decaying and several buildings empty with eviction/closed signs. There was on the left side a couple of small boys and girls out in a dirt field playing baseball. Just as they entered Vivan's car Petros asked her.

"How bad it has gotten here? I have been overseas for a few years to be honest."

@CoyoteJester

 

[CoyoteJester]

After fixing the goggles over her eyes, starting up the car, and beginning on their way, Vivian simply shrugged in response. "Bad enough that people don't want really want to live here, that's for sure." Vivian began, shifting a bit in her seat. "Lot of folks have moved away, hoping to find better fortune elsewhere. With all that's gone on, people have lost faith in the banks. No one's buying property, and those that have property have had to sell back to the banks at a loss. Couple that with the fact that a lot of folks have lost their jobs, so there isn't really much money going 'round to the local businesses. Hell, even some of the farms around here aren't producing as much as they used to. My father and I have been some of the few lucky enough to still be able to grow enough to feed ourselves with just enough left over to sell. Even then, though, we aren't really making much. We've been resisting as long as possible having to go ask the bank for money, but I don't know how much longer we can do that. Our one blessing is that the farm's been in the family long enough we don't owe the bank nothing for it."

"But... enough about that. What are things like over in the Orient?" She now asked, momentarily glancing over at Petros before returning her gaze to the road ahead. "I saw in the papers that there's been fighting over there, but what are y'all even fighting for?"

 

[Nomad-22]

Grimacing, Petros sat in the passenger's seat and listened to Vivi as she explained what's been happening around her home. As a child he and his family had known desperation in the past but it sounded like things had gotten even worse for everyone else. No wonder the radicals are swelling in numbers. The corporal thought during the drive. However, Vivan turned the discussion back to him, regarding the Far East.

He couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh in response.

"Well that's mostly border skirmishes between Japan and the Soviet Union up north. Then there are the Nationalists trying to finish off their Communist rivals inside China. The Reds there hadn't fully recovered since most of their leadership were killed off two years ago. They have become divided, fighting each other and everyone else."

He let all of that information sink in before continuing.

"We have been trying to keep out all of that mess while guarding the international settlement in Shanghai. I admit though we sometimes get trouble with damn criminals and red guerrillas."

The Armenian immigrant paused and closed his eyes while the right hand twitched, remembering certain incidents he rather forget. What Corporal Sahakian did not mention was the covert work he had been assisting with gathering intelligence on a few Japanese garrisons in north eastern China. His superiors would have his head if he breathed one word of it to civilians or even other marines not involved.

As the old car drove on Petros pulled out a lucky stripe cigarette and lit it. Blowing some smoke but away from Vivan he then added.

"To answer your other question Miss Keller, we Marines go and serve wherever Uncle Sam wants us to."

As he finished speaking they would spot his car up ahead, yards away.

@CoyoteJester

 

[CoyoteJester]

Silently nodding as Petros spoke, Vivian noticed his cigarette out of the corner of her eye. Reaching one hand into the pocket of her overalls, she grabbed her own and lit it. It was a dirty habit, yes, and one that her father didn't know about, but for her it was just another way to cope. "My brother Jacob joined the navy some time back. He used to send us letters about where he was and what he was doing. To let us know that he was alright, y'know? Gradually though, his letters have become few and far between. I worry about him all the time. I don't know what daddy would do if we lost Jacob. Mamma's death broke his heart into pieces, I don't want to see him go though that again."

She was about to say more, but the sight of Petros' car up ahead stopped her and allowed her mind to return to the task at hand. Pulling just in front of the other car, Vivan hopped out and immediately set to work. Taking out her tools from the back of the old Model T, she quickly moved to the Auburn and popped open the hood. Bending till most of her upper body was in the engine compartment, it didn't take her very long to find the problem, which was announced by the loud "AHA!" that came from under the hood. "Well there's your problem Corporal." Vivian stated as she pulled herself out from the compartment. "Your radiator hose came undone. Poor girl probably overheated." She continued, moving to the back of her car to grab her tools and a bottle of coolant.

Bouncing the bottle in her hand for a moment, she returned to car. "Always be prepared, daddy always said." Vi quipped as she resumed her position under the hood. After what was probably only a few minutes, Vi shut the hood and proceeded to wipe her hands with the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. "Should be good to go." She replied with a smirk on her face as she shoved her hands in her back pockets.