INVASION DAY
AN ORAL HISTORY OF THE VEECH WAR
BY
Micah Gurley
Table of Contents
Copyright
Introduction
War
Bao Nguyen
Colonel Nathan Kratz
Kate Winston
Tim “Jackknife” Butler
Jackson Thompson
Tim Barone
Zoltan Albo
Ken Miller
Civilian Life
Reginald Kennedy
Jeb Tanes
Joseph Sutton and Carol Sutton
Poke Johnson
Tyer Lopez
Thomas Kincade and Jeremy Kincade
Momma Keets
Aftermath
Rosa Velez
Governor Terry Aycock
Keith Oakley
James Minchew
Joshua Wright
Jonathon Meeks
Jonathon Howell
Richard Osborne
Phoenix Station
Anna Lim
Dr. Orly Attia
Jim Turner
Kee Mpi
Oliver Lee
From the Author
Copyright © 2021 by Micah A. Gurley
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected]
FIRST EDITION
INTRODUCTION
No event in Human history has had such a monumental impact as Earth's first contact with extraterrestrials. Every nation, culture, and race on Earth was changed forever on September 18, 2031. Three billion humans died on that infamous day and in the war that followed. The elusive question that has piqued so many throughout history was finally answered.
Are we alone? We now know the answer.
Twelve years have passed since the Veech showed up in our orbitals, yet the impact of that day reverberates through every fabric of human society.
Why am I writing this?
Before Invasion Day, I was a teacher. Specifically, I taught history. I loved the job. This collection of interviews came from an idea I had when I received news about a famous pilot who served in the Veech War. The man died from a heart attack. The man was a hero in the war, almost universally loved and admired, and he died from a mundane heart attack. I was taken back by the story. I began to wonder about the man. What was his story? What had September 18th been like for him? Had he lost family? I had so many questions that I was hoping to find answers to, but after checking to see if the man had written anything about the war, I realized I never would. The story, sad though it was, fell victim to more important news. It was forgotten. I remember thinking that it was such a waste. It reminded me of a class I took in university.
A university professor once told me that there are no records from slaves in the thousand-year history of the empire. Rome ruled the known world, with millions of slaves under its heel, and we'll never know their voices, their story. We don't know their thoughts, their fears or their experiences. They're simply lost to time.
It was then that I decided to talk to as many people that I could about the war. Of course, there are billions of people with billions of stories, and I couldn't get everyone's, but unlike those Roman texts that were passed down, I tried to get the stories from everyday survivors, not just the power brokers.
This collection of interviews is not a comprehensive study of the war, military tactics, or decisions made by Key figures. Invasion Day will be the most written-about event in Human history, bar none. From every country and historian, volumes will pour forth, containing the decisions and heroism of those who fought.
But I wanted more. I wanted to record the common man, who is anything but common. What happened to them? What did they see or hear? How did they survive? What was their perspective on those days of calamity? I wanted their stories. The stories that you read, with a few exceptions, will be from everyday people who lived in extraordinary times.
These are their words...
War
Bao Nguyen
Danang, Vietnam
It's a hot, sunny day in Danang, Vietnam, and I'm sitting near the beach that American soldiers famously called "China Beach" during the Vietnam War. Its real name is My Khe. The beach's white sand almost seems to reflect the sun like a mirror and is only enjoyed by a few locals, whose heads are covered by large straw hats. Bao Nguyen agrees to meet me underneath a large sun umbrella in front of one of the resorts. Bao is slim with black eyes, short brown hair, and an infectious smile. He sighs as he sits next to me in a reclining beach chair, then starts his story.
It was in September, I remember, because my friends and I had a break from school, which allowed us to visit the beach for a few days. We didn't come here – too far away – but went to a beach closer to Ho Chi Minh City. A group of us, twelve, I think, were sitting underneath a large umbrella, much like this one. We enjoyed the day, doing what most university kids do: eating, drinking, and just having a good time. The beach was very crowded, with very little room to walk between the groups. It seemed like everyone from Ho Chi Minh had the same idea we did and swarmed the beach. I remember a lot of beautiful girls. (Smiles.)
He waves over a fruit seller, buys some small green apples, offers me some, then returns to the story.
Many of my friends couldn't swim, and others didn't want to be in the sun, but I liked the sun and wanted to swim, so I went by myself. During the low tide, you're able to walk about thirty meters before you even need to swim, so I walked all that way, then swam ever farther, getting a long way from the beach. I swam up to a sand bar where I could stand up without my head being underwater. I was looking out on the horizon, watching the large tankers sitting out there, when I saw a silver speck fall from the sky. It was gone before I could even get my phone out, and I doubted if I even saw it.
You had your phone in the ocean?
(He laughs.) We took our phones everywhere back then. How else could we take selfies? We kept them in a waterproof plastic pouch that we put around our necks. Anyway, I saw a silver speck
