Anti-assimilation army: A Spark

Chapter 2

Accustomed

Storing another plump rainbow trout under the flow of the ice-cold water of the stream and sealing it with a large flat rock, Arthur counted nearly ten fish stored away in the ingenious substitute for a fridge. Out of sight and smell from wild animals, and with the cold water keeping it fresh, they were able to safely store the extra food for times when it would be more difficult to forage, such as in the deep snows of winter. Indeed, the seemingly vast abundance of berries, fruit and tubers nearby began to dwindle, requiring them to travel further and further away from basecamp to find enough of the plants. While there was no shortage of water, the availability of protein other than fish was fairly scarce, mainly from the few birds Brian was able to take down with his hunting knife. The guidebook had suggested supplementing their diet with insects, which were a good source of protein, but no one was eager to try the wriggling creatures, only trying it as a last resort. After roasting a large grasshopper in the fire and eating it for the first time, Brian agreed that the bugs tasted awful and had a dreaded mushy texture to it. Samantha suggested that they just swallow the whole thing without chewing, and they all agreed that gulping it down was indeed a brilliant solution. Taking a second insect to try out the theory, Brian pulled off the pointy legs and antenna before swallowing the bug whole, which was not as bad as chewing the innards of the bug. Giving a hesitant thumbs up, he punched his gut a bit after feeling something wriggle in his stomach. 

“What I wouldn’t do for an egg-laying hen right now. Just imagine, fresh eggs every day for breakfast. Would probably go really well with those wild blackberries.”

Swatting another mosquito that landed on his neck, Joel agreed with his mom, eager to have a change in diet from the monotonous meals every day. “Yeah, we can feed the chicken the insects and eat the eggs ourselves! I’d take nice hardboiled eggs over insects any day.”

Arthur looked around, as if expecting to see something jump out of the bushes. “At least the bears seem to be hibernating by now. Haven’t seen or heard one for quite some time.”

“Yeah, you’re right Arthur, but best be on the safe side and keep our scraps and food out of reach from the wild animals. Those pesky ravens or eagles would do anything for a free meal you know. By the way, talking of eggs, the guidebook says that the common thrush can be kept like chickens for their eggs. We just have to tie one of their feet to a sturdy pole or tree and they won’t be able to fly away. The hard part is catching one though, it’s not exactly just going to let us capture it without a fight. But if we do manage to get one, the eggs would go a long way to supply us with protein.”

As they started getting ready for dinner, Samantha noticed a small pail next to a large pine tree on the fringes of their campsite. Gesturing towards the small container, she asked Brian about it, curious as to what he was trying to accomplish. 

“Oh that? I’m working on figuring out the difference between pine resin and pine sap. The former is edible like gum, but the sap is pretty much toxic. I just need to make sure I don’t mix up the two before starting to collect it as emergency food.”

Turning on the radio to indulge in the latest news from the war front, they were surprised to learn that the local defence in Vancouver was succeeding in slowing down the American advance. While vast areas of Surrey and Langley along with the Fraser Valley were taking quickly, the Fraser River was proving to be a challenge for the invading Yankees. Having demolished three of the four main bridges crossing the river, the final bridge was ferociously defended, stalling the attack as the Canadian winter began to settle in. With the first snowfall of the season drifting down from the cloudy skies, the two sides had reached a stalemate, with neither side wishing to initiate an attack on the other, waiting to defend or counter their adversary’s attack. The narrow bridge meant that only a few vehicles could cross at the same time, creating a chokepoint that could be easily defended by whichever side choosing not to attack. If worse came to worse, the Canadians figured they could still blow up the final bridge, forcing American engineers to build their own crossings before marching north towards Burnaby, Vancouver and the Tri-Cities. All along the banks of the Fraser, troops had been stationed and were kept close to the main arterial roadway to ensure quick deployment to wherever the Americans tried to cross and make a beachhead. Snipers on both sides fired long-distance bullets whizzing into buildings and sandbags, like angry hornets flying past, with some finding their mark. Many small boats had been scuttled by the retreating Canadians, ensuring that there would be no easy way to cross for the American army. Knowing that the American navy would attempt to help their land-based invasion, they also scuttled two large barges near Stanley Park at the entrance to the eastern part of Burrard Inlet, effectively blocking the waters from enemy ships that sought to encircle the defenders. The Americans in retaliation bombarded the defensive positions with round after round of shells, reducing many buildings to rubble and wreckage. 

***

Infuriated at the stubborn defence the Canadians were putting up, Major General MacMillan slammed his fist onto the map while surrounded by his lieutenants. “A few scrappy dogs and their derelict soldiers are holding back the entire Western Division of the American Army? I gave orders to cross the Fraser River hours ago, why haven’t we crossed it yet?”

“Sir, the bridge is very narrow, forcing us to cross two tanks at a time, which makes it easy for them to target using their anti-tank missiles. We’ve lost nearly a score of tanks as they tried to cross. The burning wreckages are further causing even more blockages.”

As they watched the light snow fall onto the pavement and melt into droplets of water, the Major General wondered if there would be another way to cross their barrier. “Lieutenant Grey, this Fraser River, does it ever freeze over?”

“Sir, we’ve looked at the records and there have been some instances of when the entire Fraser River had frozen over hard enough for carriages to drive on, but it hasn’t happened since the early nineteen-twenties.”

As he caught a snowflake before it reached the ground, the General made up his mind. “Tell the head of the Engineering corps to keep up the work on building a bridge, but keep the main army back out of range for now. I have a feeling Old Man Winter will help us flush out these rebels.”

***

After hearing of the stalled Americans at the Fraser, the Lee family was joyful, happy that though outnumbered and outgunned, their countrymen were putting up a valiant fight. Speaking with Chris the commander, he was excited to hear of the family’s commitment to their resistance army and he supplied them with some basic tools; a shovel, pick, and saw to cut wood with. In return, the family traded two rainbow trout to help feed troops on the front lines, which Chris gladly accepted and added to his cooler of rations to be distributed.

As they watched Chris drive south to where the action was taking place, the family decided to venture back to town to see if any other useful supplies could be procured. Taking with them a couple trout and some other foraged goods, they hoped to bargain with store owners or residents for materials they couldn’t find in the forest alone. Money was virtually useless in the given situation, and even if it were usable, inflation was rampant, making every day goods too expensive to afford. With food getting more and more scarce in town, bargaining with fish and tubers proved to be very lucrative, as people gladly exchanged tools, outdoor gear, and clothing for the meagre food Brian’s family had to offer. Looking at the residents of Squamish, he saw the desperation in their eyes as they saw the food, a testament to the hardship they were facing in town, despite being tens of kilometres away from the war front. Having been cut off from supplies by sea, not everyone was able to scratch a living out of the wilderness as the Lees had done fairly successfully. Many had taken to eating whatever plants they could find growing, while others chewed the inner-bark of some trees as a last resort. With little vegetation growing in the dying hours of autumn sunlight, scurvy was becoming a major problem as people failed to get enough of the Vitamin C, which their bodies desperately needed.

Parking their SUV back in its hiding spot, Brian noted the fuel gauge, which was indicating they only had a quarter of a tank of gas left in the car. As his family went about gathering food and water before the evening light fades away, they put away the new wares they had received and safely secured them in one of dozens of hiding places they had made in their basecamp. With a new shovel in hand, Joel made quick work of the Sword Ferns, gathering nearly twice as fast as when he harvested using a trowel. The large blade and shaft made it easy to dig using force from his foot to uproot the entire plant within seconds. Samantha stored clean, drinkable water in some new pails they had got, covering them over with a sealed lid. Carrying three large fish back as a result of some successful fishing with his new lures, Brian indicated to Arthur to store away all three, to make sure they ate their food sparingly, especially with winter coming along, making foraging all the more difficult.

***

At the temporary military and AAA headquarters in North Vancouver, General Choi was deeply worried with the plummeting temperatures and stalemate with the invading Americans. Knowing that the enemy had safe reliable supply lines connecting them to the production factories in the south, much of the Canadian western front’s supply lines were cut off with the recent forfeiture of breadbasket provinces Alberta and Saskatchewan. The Yukon and Northwest territories were unable to offer much in terms of foodstuffs, but gave the Canadians an escape route if they needed to retreat to the northlands. Using satellite communication to keep in touch with the main army corps in Ontario and Quebec, Choi pleaded with them to come to their aid, or at the very least send them supplies to keep the US at bay. It wasn’t long before his superior replied, breaking their hopes for a supply drop or arrival of reinforcements. The message was that they regretfully had to keep all resources and manpower in Southern Ontario to keep the nation’s largest city, Toronto, as well as the country’s capital, Ottawa, from falling into enemy hands.

The news was not what General Choi was hoping for, and it was looking more and more likely they would have to choose the least desired strategy against the Americans. A scorched earth mandate would see Vancouver and its neighbouring municipalities razed to the ground to prevent them from aiding the advancing enemy. Putting that policy aside, Choi knew he had to try everything else, before resorting to such drastic action that would literally wipe Vancouver off the map and erased from modern history.

Back at Garibaldi, they were just settling down to cook their usual dinner of fibrous tubers, when an unexpected family wandered in, asking if they could sit with them by the fire. Surprised that they had found their site deep in the woods, the new family said they were tipped by Chris about their camp. Placing several more stumps to sit on around the fire, Brian invited the new family to join them, even giving them a little of their food. While the husband gratefully accepted the food, his wife and daughter had a look of distain on their face before politely refusing, telling them that they already had dinner today.

“We saw the glow from your fire when parked in the lot, so we figured you were the other friendlies Chris talked about. We’re escaping the war just as you are. My name is Josh Hayes. This is my wife Natalie and over here is our daughter Alex.”

Shaking hands with Josh, Brian was glad to have another family join them, but with more mouths to feed, he wondered if teaming up was such a good idea.

As if reading his mind, Josh assured him that his family would help with the foraging, and that they had sufficient unperishable food packed away to last them a couple weeks. “We took all the food we could from our kitchen and pantry, although we shoulda visited the groceries stores and stocked up before they all closed.”

“Well there’s fish and plants on the menu here, but we’re thinking of domesticating some thrush birds and see if they can lay eggs if we feed them the insects.”

“That’s not a bad idea. We’ve got a large fishing net in our car…err, one more thing. Should we leave our car in the lot or should we move it to somewhere less visible?”

“Park your car next to ours. Joel will lead you through the path we drive on to get to our hiding spot.”

“Okay Joel, let’s get to it. I’d hate to think of someone stealing all our possessions with the car being out in the open unattended to.” Gratefully passing his empty plate to Samantha, Josh followed Joel back to the lot and they relied on the SUV’s headlights to navigate to their hideout spot. Taking out a package of dried mangos, Josh gave it to Joel as thanks for helping him out.

As both families retired to their vehicles for sleep, Brian stared at the roof of the car, wondering how much they should trust their new companions, who seemingly arrived out of the blue.

The morning brought with it the warming embrace of sunshine and Brian and Samantha immediately got to work cooking some trout for breakfast. Politely offering some to Josh and his family, they refused, not wanting to eat up all the Lee family’s supplies. Instead, they
counter-offered, giving the Lee’s some toast, jam and peanut butter, which Joel and Arthur devoured after having subsisted on fish and roots for the past week or so.

Thanking Josh for feeding their teenagers, they set about their chores, with Josh helping Arthur catch fish, and Natalie and Alex helping Joel forage for plants and berries. Indeed Joel was happy to lead the girls on a foraging trip, taking every opportunity to show off his knowledge of the wilderness to the pretty teenage girl.

“Wow Joel, you certainly know your plants here. You’re like a little encyclopedia!”

Blushing red with the complement, Joel tried to shrug it off and be humble despite every inkling of his being wanted to impress Alex. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just tips and tricks that I learn from our survival guidebook. And look! These are currents. They look like black blueberries but when dried they taste sort of like raisins.”

Approaching a plot of Sword Fern which had not been dug up yet, Joel demonstrated how to unearth the plants and peel off the leaves to leave the edible tuber intact. Handing the girls small shovels, they all worked diligently at harvesting the abundant resource and very quickly amassed a sizeable amount of food. Going over to the glacial-fed stream, they washed the tubers in the icy-cold water and carried them all in a straw basket back to their basecamp, where the boys were just bringing in their catch of the day. 

“Ho ho, look what Arthur and me caught! Seven trout in less than four hours. Isn’t that unbelievable?”

Arthur meanwhile had a concerned look on his face, and he asked his dad if it was sustainable to keep catching so many fish from the lake every day. “Dad, do you think the fish will ever run out if we keep eating so many of them?”

“Hmm, you have a good point there, perhaps we should try and find out how many fish there are in the lake so we can conserve our food source. We’ll go check out the lake tomorrow and see if we can get a grasp of how much fish we have to work with. Good observation Arthur.” 

After everyone settled down around the campfire and finished eating their dinner, there was an ominous silence that dampened the most optimistic of moods. 

Shaking his head at the dire predicament, Brian explained what he thinks will be serious problems for them in the near future. “Pretty soon it’ll start snowing up here and even though we have enough firewood, our food supplies will be stretched thin. Other than digging though the snow and frozen dirt to get at Sword Ferns, we’d have to cut a hole in the surface ice on the lake to even attempt to catch any fish. I also don’t want to burn through all your stockpiled foodstuffs in your car as well. We’ll welcome any contributions, but we’ll have to think ahead to find us enough food to last the entire winter. But that’s just me being the pessimist here, any thoughts on how to plan for the winter?”

“I think I speak for my family that we’d be more than willing to share our food stockpiles with your family, but the sustainability of our eating and the task of replenishing our food is a concern for us as well. Does your guide book list any other methods of finding food outdoors? I mean the whole bird-domestication idea was brilliant, but seems quite the challenge.”

“Well, in the worst-case scenario, there’s tree bark and spruce tips, but there isn’t much nutrition in them. Insects are healthier, but we’ll have to find a way to make the taste of them a bit more palatable. But you know what they say, ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’”

Joel and Samantha groaned as they heard the familiar phrase pop up once again.

“What about small animals like rabbits or rodents? We could set up traps around the area and check them every once in a while, if we caught anything. We’ve eaten rabbit before, haven’t we dear? I recall it was very lean and gamey tasting.”

Nodding his head with his wife, Josh recalled the dining experience they had before: “we ordered a stuffed rabbit loin, and it was the smallest appetizer I’ve ever seen but there was nothing small about the price. For the same amount of money, I could have gotten a whole rack of lamb! But I do admit, it has a very unique flavour to it.”

“You know, Samantha, the kids and I traditionally don’t eat rabbits or rodents, but it’s about survival now, not preferences, so I’ll help you with making some traps tomorrow and we’ll see what materials we have to work with. Otherwise, we could check back in town to see if there are any pre-fabricated hunting traps we could trade for.”

As the women washed the dishes, they chatted about their jobs prior to the war with the US, and they were surprised that their work places were not too far from each other in downtown Cloverdale. Samantha worked as a receptionist in a chiropractor’s office, while Natalie worked as a clerk in the grocery store just across the street.

“Do you go to the fried chicken place often? They have the best chicken for a good price as well!”

“The chiropractors and I often share a bucket of fried chicken, and for fourteen dollars, you could get like eight good sized pieces with fries and a drink.”

“What I wouldn’t give now for a bucket of fried chicken, let alone an egg.”

As she placed a hand on Samantha’s shoulder, Natalie encouraged her to keep staying strong, for her boys and especially for her husband. “We need to be a solid support for the boys. They may not admit it, but sometimes they need a strong bolster of support from their wife and mother to reassure them that we’re on their team, and it keeps them from getting paranoid or agitated. It doesn’t just take strength to do labourious work, it also takes strength to silently support someone, enduring minor annoyances and trusting them with making crucial decisions.”

***

While the families retired for the night after their labourious day of work, back at the war front, General MacMillan secretly sent several scouts, under the cover darkness to spy on the defenders and to look for any chinks in their defensive line. Communicating using elaborate hand signals, they silently searched the barricades, avoiding the night-shift guards and marking the location of any heavy artillery or machine guns along the entire front. Having finished their espionage, they piled back into their waiting inflatable raft and sped back to the American camp with their newly collected intel.

MacMillan looked carefully at the crude markings made by his spies and his fellow generals all agreed that Canadian defences were weakest along their eastern flank, with only two Maple Ridge garrisons protecting the main forces in Vancouver and Burnaby from being encircled from the east. While attacking from the east seemed the most favourable decision, they agreed it was also the most predictable move, and that the Canadians would no doubt have contingency plans if they were invaded from Maple Ridge. With a high concentration of heavy artillery and troops near the New Westminster border, it would only be a short train ride away for those troops to bolster the eastern front from any American incursion. 

A secondary option was to invade from the west, backed up by naval vessels that could keep the defender’s heads down while they crossed from Richmond into Vancouver. The only problem was that Richmond was home to a significant number of Chinese Canadians, and China had secretly made a deal with the US to not get involved so long as any Canadians of Chinese descent would not be harmed and be allowed to live in peace. Turning Richmond into a war zone might endanger those negotiations and inadvertently bring the Chinese powerhouse into the war, which would spell disaster for the American invasion.

 The last option would be a full-on frontal attack by crossing the Pattullo bridge and the Fraser River once it had frozen hard enough for heavy vehicles to traverse. Airborne units could support the crossings, and small rafts could ferry units across if the river fails to freeze over. Getting an update from the Navy, MacMillan was informed that the scuttled barges at the entrance to Burrard Inlet would take several weeks to remove, if unhindered by enemy fire, and only then would the Navy be able to provide covering fire and ferry units into the heart of the Canadian defences and cutting off any retreat to the north.

There was unanimous support for the final option, and MacMillan added that they would soften up the Canadians with aerial bombardment while waiting for winter to do its work on the river. 

As another round of bombers released their lethal payload on the Canadians hiding among the rubble and in underground bunkers, General Choi knew time was not on his side and that winter would bring a host of problems to deal with. A full-on retreat would be the safest option, but it would mean the Americans could take over Metro Vancouver without a fight. The retreat would be demoralizing to his troops and would further encourage the enemy to keep invading deeper and deeper into Canadian territory. While the outlook seemed grim, there was a glimmer of good news from their troops stationed in Maple Ridge. Tens of hundreds of Albertan soldiers and civilians were ready to help defend Vancouver and would bolster up their numbers, but they were still vastly outnumbered by the Americans. He winced as another bomb exploded seemingly too close for comfort, while Choi had ordered all anti-aircraft guns to not shoot, in order not to reveal their positions till the American Army launches its main attack. 

“General, sentries have reported seeing unmanned drones dropping bombs onto our positions, possibly with infrared sensors. Two of our bunkers have already been hit and we lost four men.”

Stroking his chin, Choi gave out the orders to deal with the heat sensing advantage his counterparts were using, and while it won’t stop the bombings, it may limit the damage done to their defences. “I want everyone to avoid congregating in groups. Stay with partners and hide at least a hundred metres away from the nearest group of two. Spread out across the city and keep your heads down!”

Back at the American camp, the officer in charge of the drone attacks had a worried look on his face. “General MacMillan, we have a problem. The heat sensors are working, but we’re detecting hundreds if not thousands of heat signatures across the city, and we can’t tell which to hit.”

“Bomb all of them if we must, we’re sure to hit some vital units sooner or later.”

“But sir, what if some of the heat signatures are civilians?”

“If they haven’t surrendered or left the war zone, their death will be on themselves for not leaving. Commence with the strikes officer!”

***

As the game of cat and mouse played out in Vancouver, the Lees and Hayes were listening to the radio, disheartened by the news that seemed to get grimmer by the minute.

“Nova Scotia and New Brunswick have surrendered after facing a week of fighting against forces invading from the Maine border and by sea. Troops in Southern Ontario are dealing with heavy rains and strong opposition from the main American Army and Air Force. Soldiers from Alaska have also started their foyer into the Yukon, and the offshore oil rigs off the coast of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia have been taken over by American ships. It is rumoured that China’s investments in the Canadian oil sands infrastructure has resulted in them being kept intact by the American forces, and that the rights to the oil resources owned by Chinese investors are respected by the US. All this is part of the deal that China’s holdings in Canada and any Canadians of Chinese descent would be protected if China avoids entering the war on Canada’s behalf. As the UK is bogged down with indecision, it is apparent that without the help of another power like China, the hope of a favourable Canadian deal with the US is growing more and more unlikely.”

“You don’t suppose they’ll let us go in peace for being half Chinese, eh?” asked Joel.

Chuckling out loud, Brian patted his wife’s shoulder as if blaming her for his predicament. “If only I married a proper Chinese girl instead of your mom, our problem would be solved!” Brian stopped as Samantha’s frown grew larger and larger, then he belted out in laughter, reassuring her that he had no regrets for marrying her and that he was only jesting; “Here, here Dear, no need to pout. You’re Chinese enough for me!”

Having regained her composure, Samantha inquired about the rabbit catching ventures the men worked on all day. 

“Well, we set up several traps made of buckets and rubber bands and we baited them using some leftover tubers from dinner yesterday. We’ll check them tomorrow to see if we’ve caught anything. Meanwhile, do you guys want to listen to a song I’ve composed? It’s called ‘Ballad of the Brave Beaver.’” 

Taking out his guitar, Brian played a brief introduction before launching into his song, singing with a pleasant tenor voice:

“‘I once knew a beaver who was brave and bold,

He left nothing unsaid and was quick to scold,

Till one day, he espied an eagle up high,

Looking down on the beaver from his place in the sky.

Calling out to the bird, the beaver did say,

‘I know you like fish, so can we parlay?

Don’t eat us beavers please if you may,

Or we’ll scare all the fish from the pond away,’

As the fierce bird landed, they met eye to eye,

Despite being smaller, the beaver wasn’t shy, 

The eagle commended him for being bold,

And so, a promise to the beaver was told,

‘Since you were so brave, I see today,

From now on only fish shall be our prey.’

And that’s why beavers are safe from the birds,

All thanks to the one who made his voice heard.’”

As Brian finished the last verse, there was a huge applause from the group, calling for an encore to sing it at least twice more. Even Samantha found herself impressed by her husband’s musical talent, glad that they were all thinking of something other than the impending war. If only they could focus on enjoying life, rather than fretting about their own survival. But she knew jolly times such as these were few and far between, given the gravity of their situation. When they retired to bed, she turned her head to see Brian snoring, with a drop of drool dripping from the side of his mouth. Perhaps they could act as the brave beaver did, making a deal with the Americans to ensure the safety of the Canadian people. Resting her head back, she closed her eyes and dreamed of a world post-wartime where they could live in peace.

With the rise of the sun in the morning, daylight brought little relief to the defenders on the north side of the Fraser River. Still being bombarded by naval and aerial attacks,
many-a-defender were growing weary-eyed and tired, unable to sleep much given the constant deafening explosions. General Choi knew the Americans had the upper hand, with air and water superiority, but he knew they had to buy as much time as possible, to keep the Western American Army from joining forces with their Midwest comrades and overwhelming the Canadian stronghold at Toronto with their combined forces. It seemed like yesterday that he was watching the Canadian badminton competition in the Richmond Oval, and watching as the agile athletes competed for the podium. He had hoped his son would take up badminton just as he did back in the day, but disappointingly, his son chose to play hockey instead. Now his son would be somewhere on the front lines, having joined the army the moment recruitment started at the beginning of the war. As the General of the Western Division of the Canadian Forces, Choi was proud of his son’s choice to volunteer, and he couldn’t have asked more from him given the circumstances.

“Sir, we’re getting reports that the American Navy is trying to dismantle the scuttled barges blocking rest of Burrard Inlet. Aerial drones have picked up sightings of cranes and divers near the site. Shall I give the order to retaliate with a strike force? There’s a company of units holed up in the UBC Endowment Lands currently at the moment.”

“No, I’m afraid they will be expecting us to retaliate and give away our positions. I’ve been thinking, we need to send a strike team east, over the Fraser River and encircle the American camp to attack them from behind. Meanwhile, we’ll stage a fake advance at the main front, making them think we will be crossing to attack them head-on. They won’t be expecting any aggression from our soldiers the way they are bunked down at the moment. That will be their own demise.” 

Shortly after giving the order, two companies of a hundred soldiers each began the trek eastward near Chilliwack, and secretly crossed the Fraser River to attack the rear of the American camp. Choi had given the orders to attack precisely at midnight the following day, where the main front will stage an elaborate feint before retreating back to their strongholds. The companies comprised of mainly snipers, but with some explosives experts and several lightly armoured vehicles. Headed by Major McGilvery and Captain Whitmore, the two groups set up on the outskirts of the American camp, making sure not to give away their element of surprise and their entire tactical advantage. Contingency plans were laid, and rendezvous points were given to every soldier to ensure no one would be left behind deep in enemy territory. 

As the pounding of artillery shells signaled the start of the attack at midnight, the Americans were completely taken completely by surprise, and rushed to defend their camp from the apparent frontal attack. 

With their snipers in perfect position with a full view of the American base, Major McGilvery gave the order and sniper fire whizzed into the Americans, causing much confusion and mayhem. 

General MacMillan was immediately informed of the current situation, while the officers tried to determine where the attack was coming from. “Bloody Cariboozers! Only cowards would attack at night and avoid a fair fight! Major! I want those attackers routed and captured, and please tell me we have infrared scans to identify the culprits.”

As he took a look at the satellite imagery, it became clear that there were only a handful of soldiers along the perimeter shooting into the base, and with a quick count, MacMillan realized it was only one or two Canadian companies supporting the attack.

The Canadians set up several land mines behind them as they retreated, and they could hear the blasts going off several minutes later as the Americans ran headlong into their traps. They then drove precariously down the paths they had marked as their escape route, and quickly turned north, hoping to reach friendly territory before the Americans could intercept them from returning to their base.

Back at the American camp, units were being bogged down as they swept the area for any more land mines. The units that had inadvertently run into the surprise explosives suffered significant casualties, and the lack of daylight compounded their difficulties.

MacMillan looked at an infrared satellite scan, and he knew that by now, the attackers were home free back in their territory, and that they had no chance of catching up with them even with their greater numbers and better technology. He looked over at his Major and asked about the damage done.

“About a hundred dead, twice that number wounded and two light vehicles severely damaged.”

MacMillan knew that although the attack seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things, he knew it was a huge morale booster for the defending Canadians, to know that they could fight back and inflict some damage on the American Army. 

“Lieutenant, I want the Navy and Air Force to blow that city to smithereens. Use all available fire power including artillery pieces by land. That’ll teach them not to play around with us.”

As their underground bunker shook under the impact of hundreds of explosions above ground, General Choi smiled at his Major, shaking his head in disbelief. “McGilvery, you think we may have gotten them angry? Perhaps they did not like our welcome gift.”

“We may have just woken up the sleeping giant. This ain’t no Pearl Harbour but they will retaliate just the same.” Wincing as another bomb exploded close-by, the Major lamented over the grim situation they were in. “It’s only a matter of time before they come storming into our city. If you’re planning on making a move sir, I’d make it quickly if I were you.”

Choi nodded his head in agreement with his subordinate, ordering the Sleeper Cell signals to be displayed, and soon enough, several pink firework displays dazzled the nigh sky high above Vancouver.

Among the foliage around the American camp, the fireworks were noted and several snipers under the cover of aluminum reflective blankets stirred as they received the signal to attack. They had been given orders to only shoot the highest ranked American officials, with the priority set on General MacMillan. Adjusting their scopes, the Canadian snipers waited, biding their time for the right opportunity to strike. 

The fireworks were also noted by the American high command, and they were unsure whether it was a signal of some sort or a distraction tactic. Units were place on high alert and the number of sentries on guard were doubled around the camp perimeter.

Choi smiled in anticipation to the confusion the Americans must be in and ordered the second part of his plan to commence. Several drones carrying explosives were launched into the night sky, whizzing off seaward towards the cluster of US naval vessels parked waiting to enter the eastern part of Burrard Inlet. For what must have been the longest minute of his life, Choi waited before being satisfied as the first sounds of explosion could be heard as the ships burst into flame.

MacMillan stormed out of his tent after hearing of the attack on his naval vessels, furiously stomped the ground and was clearly upset over the stubborn defiance of the Canadians. “If I find out that just one of our ships were sunk, I’m gona—garg!” holding his neck where a bullet wound seemed to appear out of nowhere, the army staff quickly carried MacMillan back inside and sounded the alarm that there were enemies in their camp. As the sirens blared, the Sleeper cells melted back into the forest, knowing that their job was done and that it was about time that they retreated. 

As surgeons worked to stitch up MacMillan’s torn trachea, they inserted an oxygen tube into his throat to enable him to keep breathing while they worked on his wound. As the General’s blood dripped onto the ground, staining it crimson, his incapacitation only spoke to the ferocity the Canadians had when it came to defending their homeland. 

When the daylight revealed the extent of the damage, no ships were sunk, but many had blackened decks where fire had gutted the exterior of the vessels. Patrols recovered shell casings from the snipers in the forest surrounding the camp, and they brought back the findings to their superiors. 

“They had units lying in wait all this time, tricking us to think they had retreated. We should be thankful that the General’s going to survive, but I want extra men on high alert patrolling within a two-mile radius from our camp. These Canadians are sneaky, and we’ll need to be on alert to avoid being taken unawares.” 

The second-in-command, Major Sigmunt acted as leader on behalf of MacMillan and ordered a small armoured division to attempt a crossing of the last remaining bridge. They were to move with extreme stealth and caution, so as not to reveal their position. They were to cross the river and establish a small beachhead to keep the defending machine guns preoccupied as more units crossed the bridge. A slight dusting of snow helped camouflage their white attire and vehicles painted white, as they ever-so-slowly creeped towards the crossing. 

Back at the Canadian camp, sentries were enjoying the warmth of the sun, giving them a brief respite from the bitterly cold winter weather. One scout took his binoculars out and scanned the war front before suddenly noticing the approaching cluster of light and heavy armoured units. Blowing his whistle to alert the entire garrison, they manned the machine guns and fired on the Americans, who quickly altered their strategy from stealth to making a dash for it, shooting as they rolled forward. As one machinegun turret was taken out by an armour shell, the Canadians fought back with rocket launchers and mortars, but could not penetrate the thick steel armor of the American vehicles and had to duck for cover as the mounted machineguns on the tanks fired back with fury.

Bullets flew past on either side, seeking out their targets with a dangerous hissing sound. Most of the fire from the Americans deflected harmlessly off the defensive structures, but some found their mark and several Canadian soldiers were taken out by the machinegun fire. As the tanks and vehicles advanced upon the front, they were able to establish a defensive position, creating a beachhead for other troops behind them to cross the bridge. As the troops crossed, the tanks kept the defenders’ heads down, allowing the safe traverse across the bridge by the bulk of the American Army.

At the Canadian base, General Choi was being evacuated to a safer location, north of the city, and with sirens blaring across Vancouver, it was a signal for defenders to retreat and form another front on the other side of the Burrard Inlet. This time, the Canadians did not take any chances, and blew up the Second Narrows Bridge and the Lion’s Gate Bridge to prevent the Americans from storming through. 

While the Canadians regrouped in North Vancouver, the US Army was busy flushing out pockets of resistance in the cities of Vancouver and Burnaby, meticulously going through building by building. While most of the Canadians had fled, some stayed to bog down the Americans, buying precious time for their retreating forces.

As he looked at the vessels gathered around Burrard Inlet, Choi saw that the US Navy was making good time dismantling the barges blocking the entrance and that it wouldn’t be long before ships would be able to ferry troops across the inlet. Glancing around at the dejected faces of his soldiers, he knew it was a hard pill to swallow letting the Americans take over Vancouver, but there was simply no way to protect the vital port city. 

Patting the backs of the men around him, he joined the other war office members and withdrew into the North Shore, the last part of Vancouver free from American rule.