"What the hell is going on up there?" Morrel barked, trying to find one computer screen he actually understood, as yet an other Confederate bomb rocked his M-1.
"Brigadier General Connor, come in, what's your status?"
Edward P. Connor, commanding infantry officer, was at the very front of the formation.
"We're taking heavy fire, but we're moving along."
"Good, maintain the momentum. Don't retreat unless you think dealing with me will be more pleasant then a Confederate PoW camp."
"Yes sir."
He was a little less then halfway through Kentucky when things started slowing down.
When the thrust started he entered Covington in northern Kentucky and issued a statement promising freedom and liberty for anyone loyal to the stars and stripes and destruction and terror to those loyal to the Confederate jack.
Then he thrust southward. The valleys and mountains slowed down progress, and things really came to a halt, outside the town of Danville.
The Confederates were throwing everything they had at him.
"Doesn't matter" Morrel thought.
"We have the numerical advantage, we're break through eventually."
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"Citizens of Pittsburgh, this an announcement from the Department of Civil Defence. Confederate air strikes are imminent, remain indoors."
The announcement blared over the PA system throughout the city, as well as the local television channels.
All across Pittsburgh citizens and police alike rushed to their homes or places of work, most of them to their newly installed bomb shelters. Bomb shelters had been sprung up across the DSA ever since the Confederacy nuked San Fransisco.
Would Pittsburgh be next?
Tony Durrant hopped, even deep down knew, there was no threat of a nuclear attack. The treaty that ended the Second War of Secession barred the DS and CS from using nuclear arms against one and other.
Still, he didn't trust Pershing, or any Confederate for that matter, as far as he could through them.
Durrant, a middle school mathematics teacher, huddled beneath his home in the Pittsburgh suburbs with his wife and two-year-old son.
The bomb shelter was installed right after the Confederacy gained independence, and he'd run drill constantly.
"Why are the rebs bombing us daddy?" Tyler, his son, asked.
"We're at war....again" he answered, muttering the "again" under his breath, he didn't want to show his son any sign of fear or anger.
"Why are we warring again?" his son asked.
"Because" Tony answered, "the Confederate States is an angry nation."
"Oh come now" his wife interjected, whispering in his ear.
"Don't start with that crap to."
"Its different" Tony answered, keeping his voice down.
"I'm not raising my son to trust backstabbing rebels. Look where that got us. We turned the other cheek a hundred plus years ago, and look what happened. They're nothing but snakes in the grass, they waited until we were weak, and they struck."
Marry, his wife, was about to offer some sort of protest when an explosion above rocked them.
"Good, didn't hit the house" Tony said, as more explosions could be heard in the distance.
The fact of the matter was that very few bombs landed on suburban homes. The Confederate States Air Force was authorized to hit industrial centres only.
That didn't stop families like the Durrants across the city from barricading themselves in their shelters, however.
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Two hours had passed since the last bombs had been dropped.
Tony cautiously made his way through the suburbs, still more or less in shape. Still, smoke and fire could be seen dancing between the buildings of the Pittsburgh sky line.
As he approached the city he noticed National Guardsmen patrolling the area, along with Civil Defence workers, identified by their blue armbands with the white triangles.
He approached a checkpoint, and a National Guardsman knocked on his window. The guardsmen wore the civilian version of Old Glory as a patch rather then the military version. Other then that their uniforms were more or less identical to the green-grey uniforms worn by the army.
"Yes sir?" Tony asked, rolling down his window.
"We're checking all vehicles that enter the city, please step out of the car."
Tony obliged, turning the key to shut the engine off before stepping out of the car.
"You can wait over there" the soldier said, pointing to a large tent made up of a clear plastic with the CD triangle emblem printed on it.
National Guardsmen and Civil Defence employees worked to address a chaotic mass of civilians waiting to get into the city.
"Tony!"
Durrant turned to see his friend Miles.
"Miles, are you ok?"
"Not to bad, all things considered."
"So what have you heard, I just got here."
"They hit Toledo, Cleveland, Newark, and of course us. They're going for our industrial centres."
"Where the fuck's the air force?" Tony asked, cursing no one in particular.
"Most of our planes have been moved to Ohio and Indiana, to back up our guys heading south. Toledo received some relief, but not much."
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted someone wearing a Pontiac* Lions jersey. There was no mistaking it, the baby blue and silver colours were well known to a Steelers fan.
Suddenly a terrible thought flashed in his head.
"Miles, did the rebs hit Pontiac?"
"No, thank God" Miles answered.
"They didn't get that far."
Pontiac was the country's main industrial centre. Though famous as the centre of the DSA's automotive industry, they also produced more steel then Pittsburgh.
"Hows the campaign in Kentucky going?"
"Not sure, last I heard they were almost to Tennessee, and Confederate news reports had our boys pinned down in the north of the state. Who knows, both sides are probably full of shit."
"Yeah, we won't know until it's over I guess" Tony said, starring blankly into space.