Jim Meeks sensed right away that they were in deep trouble. The armada showed up on Barkley Lake nearly to the minute they thought it might.

David and his platoon started to engage the large transports with carefully aimed gunfire as the dozen faster boats raced up and began spraying their positions with machine gun fire from their mounted weapons.

The JP soldiers tried to target the boats, but they were moving too fast and in order to even take a single shot, shooters had to make themselves vulnerable to the swarm of bullets in the air. At least five of Jim’s men were already wounded.

Jim kept moving and taking quick looks over the edge. He saw that one of the transports had landed on the north end of the park directly across from them and troops were running off the boat carrying equipment and weapons. He also saw that the rest of the transports were attempting to land on the east side of Barkley Lake on David’s flank. David’s men were harassing these vessels, but were taking heavy casualties in turn.

Even in the din and smoke of the fight, Jim felt a moment of pride for his men. He had known nearly all of them for years. Although it was hell and chaos around them, they maintained their composure, tended wounded comrades, kept their heads down, and fired back when they could. Jim supposed that this was not his men’s first rodeo, given that they had endured numerous prison riots and even one bloody prison takeover and subsequent crackdown. He wondered if David’s soldiers were fairing as well. They were taking the brunt of the attack and were not as seasoned as Jim’s men. He was just about to send a squad of his men to help when he spotted something that made him change his mind.

While taking a quick peak over the concrete edge he saw another flotilla of small armed speed boats and more transports coming around the right edge of the park from the Kentucky Lake side.

Jim groaned. He wasn't surprised but had hoped it would only be one attack they faced. He studied the new force carefully and in that effort forgot himself. He felt a sharp pain on the side of his head and fell back onto the pavement. He feared the worst, and blood appeared to be everywhere, but when he reached up to his head he didn’t find any holes or fragments, only a graze along his skull. He was lucky, luckier than probably about ten of his men, he noticed with dismay.

A medic ran over to him, but Jim waved the man away saying he was alright. The medic insisted on throwing a bandage around his head to at least slow the bleeding. Once this was done, Jim peeked back over the edge and saw additional speed boats also firing at their position, keeping them pinned down. He noticed that the new troop transports were dispersing all of their troops on the north end of the park. He then saw something that truly scared him. The soldiers who had landed from the first transport had been busy in the edge of the woods and appeared to have set up several mortar tubes.

Good grief! thought Jim. As if the machine guns weren’t enough. “Take cover!” he screamed as he ran the length of the dam, “Incoming! Incoming!” Jim had never said those words in his life, but in all the war movies they yelled this when artillery was coming in, so he figured it was okay. The men seemed to understand immediately because they dove under vehicles or any other solid shelter they could find. Jim reached the east end of the position and was yelling in David’s direction when he heard several muffled “whumfs.”

“Oh hell,” said Jim. He looked up and could actually see the projectiles in flight. The sight was so amazing that he nearly got caught looking before diving under a large pallet of sheet metal. A moment later he heard explosions high above them followed by thousands of dings, strikes, and thumps all around and over him as if some giant had thrown down a double handful of gravel. He knew it wasn’t gravel as he heard the screams of his men.

Jim decided there was nothing they could do. Between the machine gun fire, the airburst mortars, and the overwhelming number of men rapidly outflanking them, they had to retreat into the dam complex and try to make a stand there.

Jim turned to David’s position to give him the order to withdraw, but saw nothing but smoke, blood, and dead bodies. Enemy troops were already at the other end of the road running across the dam and were advancing their way. Jim let out an audible moan over the loss of David and his men, but knew he couldn’t dwell on it. He quickly passed the word for everyone to withdraw inside.

Jim was headed in when he remembered the TA312 phone outside which ran south to where Nathan and Harold were. He almost disconnected it, but then wound the phone crank and picked up the handset. It seemed like forever before someone answered and it was neither Nathan nor Harold.

“Hello,” said a maddeningly calm voice. “Corporal Evans here, how may I assist you.”

“This is Captain Jim Meeks, get me either the Commander or Deputy Commander right now!” yelled Jim.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said the polite and cheerful voice. “Neither is available at the moment.”

“You find them now!” yelled Jim.

“Again, I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t. They’re not expected back any time soon,” explained the corporal.

Jim almost screamed, but knowing he only had moments left calmed himself and said, “Corporal, pass along to them that Captain Meeks is being overrun by forces on both the Barkley and Kentucky Lakes side by fast boats with medium machine guns, probably about two dozen. They’ve also got maybe six hundred men and have already seized the east end of the dam road and the top of the locks. We’re pinned down with mortar fire. I’m withdrawing into the dam and will try to hold, but it doesn’t look likely. Do you have all that, Corporal?” Jim screamed in a rush.

“Yes sir, I do,” said the Corporal, not nearly so cheerful, “but you should hopefully see Colonel Taylor and Lieutenant Colonel Buchannan soon.”

Jim was in the act of hanging up when he caught this last part and screamed, “What?”

“Yes, sir,” said the corporal hurriedly. “They left with all the troops they could gather this morning to come north after the enemy passed under the bridge. We tried to stop the ships, honestly sir, but they just kept going.”

“This morning?” asked Jim, trying to hear above another mortar strike. “Coming here?”

“Yes, sir,” said the corporal in a compassionate tone. “Help’s coming, sir. Just hold on, and good luck.”

“Thank you, corporal,” Jim said and hung up. He unhooked the phone and carried it under his arm into the dark shelter of the dam, which he knew might very well be their tomb.