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  THE YEAR IS 1862, IN A WORLD THAT VERY NEARLY WAS…

  In one of the most unsettling “what-if” reversals to American history, the Union Army is overrun at the Battle of Antietam. Left with no alternative, President Lincoln surrenders, and the Confederate States of America becomes an independent nation. It’s a tragic twist that will produce dire, far-reaching ramifications.

  As the divided American nations move into the twentieth century, slavery has long since been abolished; but in the summer of 1941, America faces another challenge—an existential challenge. Almost a century after the Civil War, the disastrous consequences of the Union defeat are threatening freedom on both sides of the Atlantic.

  The Second World War represents the defining event of the twentieth century. History dictates the United States must play the decisive role in defeating Adolf Hitler and the Nazis—but that history is no longer intact. America has been divided into two nations, and the resulting shift in global power has altered the course of the conflict, bringing all of North America and Western Europe to the brink of annihilation.

  In the spring of 1945, as the Nazis are preparing to deliver the final blow, a young academic and a small, elite group of American airmen are about to determine the fate of the world.

  FREEDOM’S VERY SURVIVAL IS COMING DOWN TO ONE, LAST-DITCH MISSION.

  A NATION

  INTERRUPTED

  A Novel

  by Kevin McDonald

  Aura Libertatis Spirat

  A NATION INTERRUPTED

  Copyright © 2019 by L&J Publications

  5th Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner.

  Braveship Books

  www.braveshipbooks.com

  Aura Libertatis Spirat

  Edited by Linda Morrow

  Cover design by ProfessionalBookCoverDesign.com

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64062-112-1

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020904788

  For Chris Storer—an outstanding coach and an even better history teacher

  Contents

  Preface

  Title Page

  Copyright © Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One: 13 September, 1862 (4 days before the Battle of Antietam)

  Chapter Two: 17 September, 1862 (the day of the battle)

  Chapter Three: 1863–1913 (the aftermath)

  Chapter Four: 1914–1918

  Chapter Five: 1919–1924

  Chapter Six: 1925–1929

  Chapter Seven: 1930

  Chapter Eight: 1931

  Chapter Nine: 1932

  Chapter Ten: 1933

  Chapter Eleven: 1934

  Chapter Twelve: 1935

  Chapter Thirteen: 1936

  Chapter Fourteen: 1937

  Chapter Fifteen: 1938

  Chapter Sixteen: 1939

  Chapter Seventeen: 1940

  Chapter Eighteen: Spring, 1941

  Chapter Nineteen: 04 June, 1941

  Chapter Twenty: 05 June, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-One: 07 June, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Two: 04 July, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Three: 09 July, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Four: 18 July, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Monday, 28 July, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Wednesday, 30 July, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Thursday, 31 July, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Friday, 01 August, 1941

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Sunday, 03 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty: Monday, 04 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-One: Tuesday, 05 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Wednesday, 06 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Thursday, 07 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Four: 15 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Five: 16 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Six: 17 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: 27 August, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: 09 September, 1941

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: 23 September, 1941

  Chapter Forty: 20 October, 1941

  Chapter Forty-One: January 1942

  Chapter Forty-Two: 05 August, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Three: 07 August, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Four: 13 September, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Five: 04 November, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Six: 30 November, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Seven: 03 December, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Eight: 11 December, 1942

  Chapter Forty-Nine: January, 1943

  Chapter Fifty: 22 February, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-One: 29 March, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-Two: 02 April, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-Three: 05 April, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-Four: 02 June, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-Five: 03 October, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-Six: 04 October, 1943

  Chapter Fifty-Seven: 11 November, 1943 (Armistice Day)

  Chapter Fifty-Eight: 6 April, 1944

  Chapter Fifty-Nine: 12 July, 1944

  Chapter Sixty: 14 July, 1944

  Chapter Sixty-One: 19 July, 1944

  Chapter Sixty-Two: 28 October, 1944

  Chapter Sixty-Three: 23 November, 1944

  Chapter Sixty-Four: 25 December, 1944

  Chapter Sixty-Five: 26 December, 1944

  Chapter Sixty-Six: 12 February, 1945

  Chapter Sixty-Seven: 17 February, 1945

  Chapter Sixty-Eight: 19 February, 1945

  Chapter Sixty-Nine: 09 March, 1945

  Chapter Seventy: 10 March, 1945

  Chapter Seventy-One: 19 March, 1945

  Chapter Seventy-Two: 04 April, 1945 (Operation Downrush–the first day)

  Chapter Seventy-Three: 07 April, 1945 (Operation Downrush-the fourth day)

  Chapter Seventy-Four: 08 April, 1945 (Operation Downrush–the final day)

  Chapter Seventy-Five: 09 April, 1945

  Chapter Seventy-Six: 10 April, 1945

  Chapter Seventy-Seven: 11 April, 1945

  Chapter Seventy-Eight: 08 May, 1945

  Chapter Seventy-Nine: 14 August, 1945

  Chapter Eighty: 26 September, 1945

  Chapter Eighty-One: 13 December, 1946

  Chapter Eighty-Two: 20 February, 1947

  Chapter Eighty-Three: 20 January, 1953

  Also from Braveship Books:

  Acknowledgments

  In addition to thanking my editor, Linda Morrow, I wish to express my sincerest appreciation to the following individuals for their selfless contributions to this book:

  Garry Crain

  Tyler Damron

  Terry Dill

  Iris Farber

  Marilyn Galloway

  Harold Graebe

  John Litchfield

  Mark Lorance

  George Martin

  Darcy McDonald

  Charlie Morrow

  David Murray

  Mark Parcell

  Howard Polden

  Kelly Polden

  Chuck Reynolds

  Elza Rosinger

  Patrick Shaub

  Mark Siena

  John Spence

  Lastly, I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge the inspiration and encouragement I received from my former commanding officer, George
Galdorisi. A retired Navy Captain and New York Times bestselling author, George is much more than an accomplished naval aviator and writer. He is a loyal friend and a great literary mentor.

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Even though the plot presents an alternate history, there are many historical figures, as well as actual historical events, intertwined within the story. Some of the dialogue and writings attributed to the historical figures are public record. Much of their dialogue, however, is fictional, as are many of their actions. This book is not intended to be a true and accurate historical reference.

  History, often the result of planning and painstaking effort by people of great stature, occasionally pivots on happenstance. Beginning with the Civil War, this is a story of two separate American nations, both struggling to survive in a world that not only could have been—but a world that very nearly was.

  Chapter One

  13 September, 1862

  (4 days before the Battle of Antietam)

  On this hazy morning in late summer, Barton Mitchell and his fellow Union soldiers temporarily halted to rest in a meadow. Mitchell, a corporal in the 27th Indiana Infantry Regiment, was about to begin a chain of events that would ultimately determine the fate of a nation—a nation that, up until this crucial moment in history, had been destined to become the most powerful on earth.

  Recently the site of a Confederate encampment, the meadow in which the war-weary corporal lay sprawled was a day’s march south of Frederick, Maryland. The grass, littered with refuse left behind by a retreating regiment of South Carolinians, was still wet from the morning dew. As he tried to rest with his Springfield musket lying across his chest, Corporal Mitchell felt something pressing against the small of his back. Using his left hand to balance his musket above the ground, he rolled onto his left hip and elbow. Mitchell reached behind his back with his right hand and removed the source of his discomfort—three Carolina-tobacco cigars, bundled and wrapped in a soggy envelope.

  Energized by his good fortune, the corporal immediately sat up, placed his weapon on his lap, and unwrapped his prize. Discarding the envelope, Mitchell was pleased to find that all three of the stogies were still dry and intact. Offering one to his sergeant, who was reclining several feet away, Mitchell sprang to one knee. He rested the musket on his other knee and began rummaging through his pack, searching for his tin of matches.

  Sergeant John Bloss was happy to accept his junior benefactor’s offer as he tucked the cigar into his woolen uniform jacket, faded and tattered from eighteen months of continuous wear. Bloss, however, was not so quick as Mitchell to dismiss the tobacco-stained envelope that had come to rest in the grass next to where he was leaning back on his elbows. Sitting up, Bloss surveyed the object of his curiosity. There was writing on it, but the morning dew had blotted out the ink, making it unreadable.

  The veteran sergeant was vexed by his corporal’s apparent lack of interest in the sealed envelope. Casting a look of mild disdain toward Mitchell, still preoccupied with finding his matches, Bloss retrieved it himself. Removing the bayonet from his musket, he used it to slit the lengthwise edge of the envelope. As he removed several folded sheets of paper, Bloss was surprised to discover they were relatively dry. The ink had partially bled through to the opposing sides of the pages, but the text was still legible.

  As he began to study the freshly penned script in Special Order 191, Sergeant Bloss could barely believe his eyes. It was a dispatch from Confederate General Robert E. Lee, commander of the Army of Northern Virginia. The dispatch was one of a half dozen Lee had sent to his field generals in advance of three planned attacks against Union targets along and on either side of the Potomac River.

  The order prescribed in detail how the Confederate Army was to divide into four separate forces along the Potomac. Three of the divided armies would launch simultaneous major assaults at Lovettsville and Harpers Ferry on the Virginia side of the river, as well as Sharpsburg on the Maryland side. The dispatch was addressed to General D.H. Hill, whose army was to serve as the rear guard for the other three. Generals James Longstreet, John George Walker and Stonewall Jackson were to spearhead the coordinated morning attacks beginning on the 17th of September—a mere four days away.

  Corporal Mitchell watched in bewilderment as Sergeant Bloss jumped to his feet, reaffixed his bayonet to his musket, and nearly tripped over Mitchell’s pack as he began sprinting toward his company commander. Within hours, the critical news contained in the lost dispatch was on its way, via mounted courier, toward a farmhouse west of Sharpsburg—the farmhouse where Major General George B. McClellan, commander of the Army of the Potomac, had established his temporary headquarters to coordinate the search for General Lee and the Confederates.

  It was a seventeen-mile ride.

  _ _

  Confederate Captain Emmett Baldwin was a military man ahead of his time. In an age when armies still formed up against one another in open fields of battle, Baldwin regarded such tactics as folly. He had managed to convince his superiors to let him pick a dozen men from the ranks of traditional units and train them in the art of guerilla warfare.

  For months, Captain Baldwin and his men had been operating behind Union lines, mapping out troop positions and disrupting supply lines ahead of the now-imminent Confederate incursion into Maryland. Even though Maryland had not seceded from the Union, there were still some in the state who were loyal to the Confederacy. Many others, though not overtly supportive, were at least sympathetic to the Confederate cause.

  General Lee hoped to capitalize on those divided loyalties, and Baldwin’s mission was part of that effort. With only four days left until the beginning of Lee’s planned offensive, Baldwin’s men were en route from Sharpsburg, where they had charted Union troop concentrations around General McClellan’s headquarters, to the township of Frederick, twenty miles east. Their task in Frederick was to covertly approach local merchants and discern whether they would be willing to sell food and other supplies to the approaching Confederate Army.

  Baldwin’s commandos had little in common with other military units of the day. They wore no uniforms, did not march in formation, and carried an assortment of weapons ranging from Bowie knives to Henry repeating rifles. They were also exceptionally resourceful. They would occasionally appropriate provisions from known partisans in the area, but they largely lived off the land. They also survived on the spoils of their insurgency, having scavenged coffee and flour from a derailed Union supply train only days earlier. Even their repeating rifles, along with most of their ammunition, had been stolen from a Union armory.

  As they walked east along a secluded dirt road, Baldwin and his men were several miles west of General McClellan’s headquarters. The surrounding woods were thick with brush. As he led his men toward a sharp crook in the road, Baldwin heard the muffled sound of hoofbeats coming from around the bend.

  He dispersed his men into the woods, six on either side of the road.

  _ _

  Private Stanislaw Tobias Pozniak was an exceptional equestrian. The eldest son of Polish Jewish immigrants, Pozniak had spent his childhood working on his family’s horse farm in western New York State.

  At the beginning of the war, in 1861, Stanislaw had been only sixteen years of age when two US Army procurement officers showed up looking to purchase mounts from his father. Like many Polish Americans, Stanislaw was fiercely patriotic. He pleaded with his father for permission to go with the men and join the Union Army.

  At first disinclined to allow it, Stanislaw’s father eventually yielded to his son’s request, but only after striking a deal with the two procurement officers. He agreed to sell them the horses they had selected at a cut-rate price, and they agreed to enlist Stanislaw into the Union Army as a mounted courier instead of an infantry soldier. The procurement officers departed the farm with fourteen of the Pozniaks’ finest steeds and the eldest of their two sons. Stanislaw Pozniak had gone on to become one of the most accomplished mounted
couriers in the Union Army.

  Now, as Private Pozniak was nearly a half hour into the most important ride of his life, he was hell-bent on reaching McClellan’s headquarters. Though he didn’t know the contents of the dispatch in his leather satchel, the Union colonel who had tasked him with delivering it had impressed upon him, in no uncertain terms, that he was carrying a document critical to preserving the Union.

  As he approached the next bend in the road, Pozniak was only minutes from his destination. For most of the ride, the young private had cantered his mount, letting him run at a three-beat pace. Now, as he rounded the bend, he kicked the animal into a full gallop, pressing him hard toward his objective.

  Suddenly, Pozniak felt a burning sensation in his right shoulder. The reins began to slip from his hand. For an instant, he had no idea what had caused his arm to go numb. Then, he heard the unmistakable sound of a rifle shot, followed immediately by more shots. The salvos echoed through the trees behind him, prompting the wounded courier to spin his head as he transferred the reins to his left hand. Standing in his stirrups, he rose from the saddle and looked to the rear—nothing.

  He returned his gaze to the woods directly ahead. Swirling rings of smoke, clearly visible as they jetted from behind the trees on either side of the road, revealed the shooters’ positions. As the shots continued to ring out, Pozniak’s survival instinct told him to pull back on the reins and reverse course. He knew it would be a slow, cumbersome maneuver, making him a near-stationary target for several critical seconds.

  Instead, the young trooper pushed his horse even harder, leaning forward and down as he rode straight into the teeth of the ambush. He leaned so low that rider and horse became one—a desperate, two thousand-pound beast galloping at more than thirty miles per hour.