Field Survey: Onion Creek Crossing

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Field Survey: Onion Creek Crossing, Montana

Copyright 2015, 2020 Lisa Summers

All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

Chapter 1

Internet News Report, September 30, 2010

Turkey conducted war games with China, news report says

ISTANBUL – Hurriyet Daily News and Economic Review

“The Turkish and Chinese air forces secretly participated in a military drill in Konya as part of the “Anatolian Eagle” war games, prompting a reaction from Washington, daily Taraf reported Thursday.

Taraf based its report on Turkish and Western military sources, who confirmed that the military drills took place but did not state the exact dates of the games or what kind of aircraft were involved….”

Chapter 2

Foreword and Researcher comments

I am historian Nigel Wainscott, doctoral scholar at the University of Leeds. As part of my post-graduate studies, I have been privileged to view the papers of a Captain Nadezhda (Nadya) Omelchenko, of the now defunct Joint Democratic Federation Army (JDF).

I believe that she may be the most significant figure in world history of the last half century, but most certainly she is simultaneously a universally unknown figure.

Because of the sudden and unexplained collapse of the government of The Joint Democratic Federation of China and Arab and Turkish Peoples Republics (JDF)1 shortly after the disappearance of Captain Omelchenko , nothing is known of her fate, though the reader is certainly free to make his or her own suppositions.

I have submitted the following documents to the Journal of History of Restored America 2 – excerpts from Captain Omelchenko’s personal diary, and copies of emails selected from her private electronic mail files, all chosen due to their perceived importance in the sequence of events in which she played a significant part. I expect them to be of great interest to the Journal’s readers. This will serve as a preliminary to my far more exhaustive dissertation to follow at a later date.

I have herein posted these documents in roughly chronological order, as well as my own characterization of events that were not documented, but which, based on the testimony of individuals present at selected events, as well as other sources, may have potentially flowed from the individuals involved and the relationships they developed.

– Nigel Wainscott, M. A.

Faculty Member, North American History Department

University of Leeds

April 13, 2107

Chapter 3


7 May, 2051 – As a soldier and scientist in The Joint Democratic Federation of China and Arab and Turkish Peoples Republics (JDF), I have been in liberated America for two years, and I still feel that I do not understand these native American people at all. So many of them choose to starve, and live in disorder, rather than completely submit to the orderly and planned leadership of the JDF, which had generously sent over its troops (and unfortunately, its political commissars) to show these Americans a better life – and after all, they had requested our help, had they not, in overthrowing their treacherous King?

Admittedly, our troops have sometimes caused more problems than they have solved, but our intentions are good. I could understand why the Americans might not favor the commissars – they are not always trustworthy, though they are the keepers and interpreters of the “correct” way to think. But the People’s troops – how can they argue with the soldiers, who are every day at least trying to liberate them from oppression? It is a puzzlement.

It was in my first month in the ruined city of Anaheim (in the California sector) that I witnessed the investigation and subsequent clean up of a dilapidated apartment building in which a man, father of three young children, had been apprehended on charges of building explosive devices to kill JDF soldiers with. In the course of his capture he was unfortunately grievously wounded and died. In the aftermath, one of the neighbor children, a girl named “Susan,” walked over to the lead investigator with home baked pastries for the soldiers, which were gratefully accepted. Four of the soldiers who ate the pastries had to be taken out of action due to severe cuts to the mouth. The pastries were filled with ground glass. The girl was later apprehended and liquidated, unfortunately. Why would she do such a thing?

Another odd aspect of that strange Anaheim town – there was a massive abandoned “amusement park” where in past times the children and their parents would go to be happy and to be amazed at numerous wonders of all kinds. We ventured in a little ways – as I say, it was massive, covering numerous hectares. Inside one orhangazi escort of the many buildings that existed in the shadow of the “amusement rides” we encountered piles of small, plush mouse-like creatures covered in an artificial fur, apparently dolls for the children, as well as numerous sorts of toys and cups, glasses and clothing with the words “Disneyland 2031” on them. We were warned to go no further into the enclosure, as the civilian police avoided the park and claimed that it was haunted by creatures appearing to be gigantic ducks, mice and dogs. I do not know if we were being made fun of by the native Americans, but the place was of no scientific interest, only a curiosity and so we made haste to move on.

As to the present, on this day, I have been ordered to report to JDF Military Garrison Number 6, at New Presidio, located in the partially reconstructed city of San Francisco, capitol of the California Governing District, after serving two years inspecting the radioactive ruins of Los Angeles – it is a relief to not have to wear the radiation suit as a daily regimen!

It is a beautiful city, and its majestic ruins in many ways only add to its haunting grace. The partially orange-colored bridge which dominates the view might still be of use, if there were any significant traffic, and if its span still extended completely across the straits leading to the Bay of San Francisco from the Pacific Ocean. As it is, the span is destroyed in the center for approximately 100 meters, and repairs have not yet been made. Certainly, horses and wagons would not stress such a structure.

I have no idea why I have come to the attention of these authorities. I am a simple commander of a clinical research laboratory. I am used to investigating the illnesses of the soldiers, not to answering inquiries from generals. I have enjoyed being a little mouse, and living my life out of sight of the dancing elephants of the nomenklatura.

I miss the familiarity of home – Ukraine of course, not the homes of our masters in Beijing, Riyadh and New Istanbul. It is far too crowded and unfamiliar in those capitals for me, and their ways are strange. I am closer in some ways to these Americans, than I am to our masters. But, I serve because they have ordered it, and I must live. There is no future in questioning such things, and in failing to follow orders.

Chapter 4

Captain Omelchenko entered JDF Garrison Number 6, at New Presidio. It was her understanding that the garrison was named after an ancient fort in the area called “Presidio”.

“Scientist Captain Omelchenko reporting as ordered,” she said formally to the uniformed receptionist, a scarred sergeant, perhaps a veteran of one of the numerous ongoing skirmishes with the native Americans, or if not elsewhere that the Joint Democratic Federation’s reach extended.

The sergeant glanced dismissively at the petite, black-haired, brown-eyed woman. “You may take a seat, Captain,” the sergeant replied. “I will let you know when the General is available.”

Captain Omelchenko sat down in one of the hard plastic seats lining the small anteroom. The chairs had been liberated from one of the local secondary schools, after they were closed permanently. The secretary’s desk also had been taken from the school, an old-fashioned blond maple six-drawer unit, heavily lacquered, and still showing a small decal of the school’s mascot, a river otter pretending to be ready to fight someone, its small paws formed into fists.

“So aggressive, these Americans,” she sighed to herself, as she absently touched her shoulder length hair streaming from under her cap. “Even ground into the dirt by their King, they still persist in fighting and resisting their liberators.”

She considered what the General might have for her. It was extremely rare that she should be summoned to his office. In fact, the only other time she had seen him up close, had been when he was on a tour of the forensic laboratory. Nadezhda was the lead scientist in the forensics research laboratory, a dual use facility that conducted evidence studies for both the military expeditionary force, and the civilian police, local Americans under the “oversight” of a commissar from the Joint Democratic Federation.

Lost in her thoughts, Captain Omelchenko did not respond instantly to the receptionist’s instruction of “He will see you now.” Saying it a second time, and much louder this time, the receptionist favored the attractive 44 year old Captain with a sour frown as she leaped from her seat. He pointed her toward the dark stained wooden door, indicating that Captain Omelchenko should walk through. She meekly opened the door, announcing herself in hushed tones.

“Scientist Captain Omelchenko, reporting as ordered, sir,” she said.

“Come in, please,” General Tsang said, surprising Nadezhda with his somewhat jovial tone.

“Take a seat,” he finished, gesturing across the fine antique cherry desk nilüfer escort to a rich, plush chair, one of two opposite the aircraft carrier sized desk. Unlike the reception area, the General’s office was furnished with beautiful antique furniture, most likely freed from the oppression of its former ownership by some ancient Silicon Valley billionaire. Nadezhda sat down slowly in the chair, enjoying its plush comfort, as opposed to the hard plastic cafeteria seat her shapely bottom has just occupied.

“I’ve asked you to come here, because we have a special project for you and your team, one which may lead to other projects of its nature. As you know, our presence here in America is a peaceful one, having been invited to help this poor country to recover economically and socially from its former, self-destructive ways. As part of this program to improve these people, we have decided to implement a pilot program to assess the country’s resources, state by state, so that we can best decide their future,” the General began.

“Therefore,” he continued, “we picked out a small portion of one of their former states, one called ‘Montana,’ purely by random choice, and task you to inventory the limited geographic area for structures, people, plant and animal life, and other such things. If this inventory, this ‘Field Study’, is of some use, then we may expand it to the rest of the former kingdom of the United States of America.”

“As you can appreciate, to study the entire country would be an overwhelming job, one that would represent a tremendous opportunity for you, personally, to make a name with the Politburo and, may I add between us, help secure a prosperous future for yourself.” With that, he winked greasily, and Nadezhda shuddered, though she showed a smile to the fat General. Corruption was a way of life in the JDF, and very often corruption seemed to be the only thing that kept it going. She wondered vaguely if he would be soliciting her salary chits, or her body. Neither choice appealed to her, and she sighed quietly.

Nadezhda had some trouble understanding what the events had been, exactly, some twenty years before, when in 2031 the subjects of the King of the United States had overthrown him, and requested the aid of the Joint Democratic Federation. It was an easy date for her to remember, one year after the tragic deaths of her husband and daughter.

They must have had some quite miserable life in America back then, to be so desperate that they had reached across the vast Pacific Ocean for assistance, she thought. From what she had seen, there were traces of great wealth, mainly in buildings and things like the roadways, but little by way of anything worth keeping inside the existing houses of the common people. Yet oddly, every house itself still standing was rather grand, compared to what could be found in typical houses in the JDF ’empire.’

Of course, the vast destruction of many formerly populated areas made it difficult to ascertain what the lifestyles of Americans were like day-to-day, but judging by current conditions, most of them must have been very poor.

Oh, there were the houses of the industrialist slave masters who had oppressed the people, and the fine furniture they contained. Often they had as many as three bedrooms, or more! One or two of the mansions had been kept as museums illustrating the parasitic nature of the capitalists, but most had been burned or put into use for the political class, the furnishings now keeping people like the General in comfort.

Oddly, for such a vast country, with so many roadways, and well constructed ones at that, there were few to no automobiles, and even fewer trucks, unlike the Joint Democratic Federation, with its Fords, Chevrolets, Cadillacs and even the oddly shaped Arrvees. Although most of these vehicles throughout the JDF empire were twenty years old or older, their JDF owners kept them in excellent condition. Contrast that with these Americans who walked everywhere, or rode horses, or on occasion, traveled on the train.

After a perfunctory attempt at seduction which Captain Omelchenko rebuffed, General Tsang shrugged and dismissed her, leaving her to make her arrangements to travel with her team to the Montana state, and its assigned site of interest, a portion of the map plat called Onion Creek Crossing.

Chapter 5


From: [email protected]

To: polova_kvitka

Sent: 05/18/2051 21:22:36 Zulu

Subject: Greetings from America!

My Dear Anya (or rather, my Precious Wild Flower!):

It is always a welcome opportunity to renew my correspondence with the oldest and closest of my friends. I recall our first days together at Li Peng Primary School, and how we would work together to repel the upperclassmen when they attempted to steal our money and belongings. I shall never forget how you saved my life when I was türbanlı escort attacked by a Ninth level hoodlum, the unregenerate gangster Egor Alenichev. I still recall that the scar you gave him marked him for life, such as it was, until his execution three years later for leading a gang rape of a 12 year old girl.

I have been posted here in America for several years, and recently chosen to lead a very august study. As you may know, only a small portion of this quiet and beautiful country has been surveyed by Joint Democratic Federation engineers and scientists, to determine to what use it might be put. Of course, the Americans had no doubt previously surveyed most of their lands, but many of those records were lost in the Conflict, and many of those Americans with knowledge of these resources were also lost during the fighting, when their King ordered them into foolish suicide attacks against peaceful liberation forces.

In any case, most areas closest to the California District have been surveyed in at least a preliminary fashion by JDF teams, primarily the Los Angeles District – mainly a radioactive nightmare, I’m afraid, and the San Francisco area, unfortunately heavily damaged by the Civil War among the Americans about which we have been informed. Now such studies will be extended to more remote areas, and I have been chosen to lead the first of these. I have been given to understand that, if it is successful, I may be chosen later to supervise all such future studies.

Can you guess what area has been chosen first? The one area about which many have wondered, due to the mystery surrounding it, the rumored site of the great battle in which the King of America was defeated in 2031 – the region called Onion Creek Crossing, Montana. I am to conduct a survey of the organisms in the area, including the botany and zoology of the sector.

Yes! The Politburo has decided to allow this area to be surveyed for the historical record, perhaps to commemorate our valiant victory (and of course, the evil King’s defeat). We start in a few days time.

* * * *

From: [email protected]

To: polova_kvitka

Sent: 05/29/2051 20:31:06 Zulu

Subject: We begin our adventure!

My Dear Anya:

I am so pleased to hear that your son has been accepted at Donetsk State Medical University. You must be very proud of his achievements, and looking forward to honors he may receive there. You said that he would be majoring in the Psychology of Suicide Abatement. That is certainly a most important and growing field in the JDF!

I still mourn the deaths of Andriy and Daniela twenty-one years ago, but I bury myself in my work. The memory of my dear husband and daughter, their deaths due to the alleged negligence of the Glory of The Revolution food factory at Kyiv will accompany me forever, but when I am made too sad by these thoughts, I can only tamp them back into their dream box. Still, I will never forget the photographs of their purplish-red faces and hands curled up in a claw-like position, marring their beauty in my memory, and the suddenness of their passing.

The doctors would not allow me to approach their bodies in the morgue when I returned from my assignment – they seemed surprised that I was even there. My family had gone camping in a parkland area outside of Kyiv, sleeping there for a week, looking at the flora and fauna of the area, and eating food provided at local restaurants. I was told that the cause of their deaths was a virus contracted from birds, somehow transmitted to food, or perhaps through the air, and that their poor, lifeless corpses might still be contagious.

I would have given anything to kiss them one last time – even my life, I think.

As one must get used to the bureaucratic ways, and delays of the People’s Paradise, we have finally gotten all approvals, and made our way to the survey site. Our arrival in the Port of San Francisco two years ago was without too much trouble. The hulks of the American war ships still blocked the ship channel there, and I am amazed that our engineers have not yet succeeded in removing them. Before we boarded the train to take us to the Montana area, we toured the San Francisco City ruins.

It is an impressive area, and I cannot help but be impressed by a people who could achieve such grandeur in their everyday life. That they live at a primitive level today cannot be helped, as any setbacks in their progress were only in aid of their introduction to the joys of a Socialist People’s Brotherhood (and Sisterhood, of course!) Still, I feel a disquiet at such sights as an American woman scrabbling to pick up scraps from the passage of a refuse vehicle through her camp, or two small children squabbling over the body of a dead rat.

The Americans appear poorly fed, of course, as I am told that the local JDF governor is hardly generous in allowing them to enjoy some of the benefits of their agricultural efforts. Strange it is that we, friends seeking only to help our far away neighbors, also continue to starve in our lands even while we suck those neighbors dry of their abundantly growing produce. I was shocked to hear that we are stealing their meager agricultural efforts to send back to our people.

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