Invasion Day: An Oral History of the Veech War by Micah Gurley (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📕

human-friendly. It's kind of a tradition for old military pilots to become bus drivers. And the benefits aren't bad either, last night I took my wife to dinner in Paris. We were back by ten.

Jackson Thompson

Lynchburg, Virginia

I'm sitting in a 60s style diner when Jackson "the Anchor" Thompson enters. He's a man in his early 50s who stands a little taller than six feet. He's in good shape, his short blond hair turning pure white.

He gives me a nod while he leads the older man next to him, his father. His father stood close to seven feet when he was younger. Though he stoops, his once-massive shoulders still show the size of the man. Jackson pulls out a chair and directs his father to the chair. His father sits down obediently and seems to melt in the chair.

The Ancor looks at me, his deep blue eyes demand my attention, and I feel a little intimidated even meeting them. He thanks me for waiting; he'd been a bit late. We order some burgers and fries, and he asks what I want to know about. I tell him, and he leans back in the chair and glances at his father.

(He sat silent for a minute.) Do you have kids? No, you're probably too young. I got married late, almost 35, and didn't have my son until I was 40. Before that, I'd traveled the world, spent my time in the military, really just did what I wanted to. I didn't have any responsibility. When I had my son, though… it was surreal. It was life-changing. Here was a living being that I'd helped create, one that depended on me for everything. Such responsibility, such love. From that moment on, he was my priority, my everything. We lost his mother shortly after his birth, problems with the pregnancy and her being older. It was just him and me, and of course, (He points at the older man.) this ancient giant.

That's why I made the decision I did at the Roanoke Valley. My son. We had watched the invasion on TV, of course. We saw the bombs drop on the major cities, but they didn't explode, so we weren't sure what happened. Then we saw those shuttles dropping by the thousands and the air battle that took place. The news was spotty back then, and they didn't know any more than we did. All we knew was that aliens existed, and weren't friendly. We were concerned.

Then another group of aliens showed up and attacked the first group. We could see the lights from the front porch. Very unnerving watching aliens battle in space. We knew the Veech landed soldiers not too far from us. That was enough to start getting people together, but it began before the Veech troops even reached us.

How so?

Looters, thieves, murderers, bullies, and just plain old, scared people. All of them came flowing out of the eastern cities, those that still had people. They all headed toward the mountains like it was a natural response ingrained in them. There was panic and hysteria everywhere. The highways became a parking lot, then became the world's largest sidewalk, with millions heading west.

We began to form protective groups, just neighbors who looked after each other. They were the beginnings of what became the Army of Virginia. (Smiles.) I'm not sure who came up with that name, probably some civil war reenactor. Anyway, that was the start. My old man here knew all the old families from our area, both good and bad. He told them to get out of those hills and into the valley.

Our first meeting with the Veech came two weeks after they landed in D.C. We watched the first battle of D.C, and as you can imagine, it was hard to watch. A few days after that, the Veech started pushing out, scouting the area. Small groups.

We were lucky in that the Veech sent most of their troops to the north and south, to secure the eastern seaboard. There were a lot of military bases on the East Coast, and they needed to be dealt with before heading west. Those early battles cost the military dearly, but with the exception of the battle for D.C., most of the military pulled back orderly and calmly.

The Veech wanted a secure rear, and that probably saved us up here. We weren't ready for any significant numbers of Veech. We didn't have the numbers or oganization yet. We were fortunate to only face a few at first. They gave us time, and that led to us getting stronger, much stronger

They eventually entered the Roanoke Valley, heading to interstate 40 so they could scout west. They moved down interstate 81 as if they didn't have a care in the world, completely bypassing Charlottesville. They were a confident bunch, which is understandable after those early battles.

The first group we encountered was small, about five of their hovering vehicles and maybe two hundred troops, no mechs. We had about a thousand people at the time, but we knew the land, and they no longer had uncontested control of the skies. We engaged them outside of Roanoke before they could turn our way.

It was a little tense. We knew they had some kind of shields, but we also knew they would come down after repeated hits. I positioned my people in the hills, around the interstate, from one to two hundred yards, buried in the woods. The distance wasn't a problem for the guys. They were hunters, country boys, hillbillies, all very comfortable lying in wait for hours, and expert shots. They might talk a little slow, but they carry around high-powered hunting rifles. Much stronger than a 5.56 NATO round.

Our first volley didn't kill many, honestly. The Veech reacted quickly, but our men spread wide, hugging the ground, and stayed in elevated positions. After five or six rounds apiece, their shields fell, and they went down. We had some machine guns placed further along