Private First Class Jake Gregory Meyer - MOS 5811 Military Policeman, Military Police Detachment, Marine Barracks Brooklyn, United States Marine Corps
Indianapolis, Marion County, Indiana, United States of America, North America, Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy
07:04:15 ATC/ Thursday, July 4th, 1968 - 20:00/ 8:00 PM
Jake never expected to be captivated once more, especially with some extraterrestrial redhead no less, from a completely different galaxy and a planet called Corellia, yet despite the staggering revelation that humanity was more widespread than previously believed and understandably so, the unremarkable native of Indiana felt a connection with this amiable redhead. Previously, the 5811 who was recently transferred from Marine Barracks Philadelphia to the one at another Navy Yard located in the borough of Brooklyn, New York City considered himself star-crossed and resigned himself to be a perpetual bachelor after his hapless experiences with relationships yet now after a year since their first encounter in Philadelphia Jake felt that at last he had found the one he desired settling down with.
"It's such a beautiful night, Jake." The familiar high-pitched voice said next to him on the blanket. "Thank you for bringing me here."
"Yeah, well this night is nothing compared to you, Sara." The American declared, causing the Corellian to blush.
"Aww...You're so sweet."
Jake was going to respond when another voice interrupted the couple. "If you lovebirds are finished, I brought the beer and I would've bought champagne instead but it might be too refined and French for your tastes."
It was Sam, a childhood friend of Jake's and a paratrooper in the famed 82nd Airborne Division who was currently on leave. Samuel Westbrook was by impression not what anyone would expect to be a transplant from Massachusetts with paternal grandparents who were literal wealthy WASPs of the Eastern Establishment, especially with only a faint trace of a Mid-Atlantic sociolect or even immediately surmise at first glance that his mother was anomalously Jewish with his aforementioned paternal grandparents in mind, a fact that was divisive within the old money household but Jake on the other hand didn't blink an eye and as founding father Thomas Jefferson once said: 'I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.'
Arguably the pair would have never met if Samuel's father had not accepted the job offer from Eli Lilly's Pharmaceuticals back in 1954 with the move to the Indianapolis area further incentivized by a familial rift as there was still disapproval over the marriage with his mother or suffering a snapped carburetor belt en route to their new residence in the exclusive affluent community of Meridian Hills in northern Marion County, a chance meeting in which the family car broke down on an isolated and unfamiliar rural road while moving to the obscure Midwestern city of 'Indy-No-Place' and were stumbled upon by the Meyer's when the farming family was returning home from a rare vacation, the amusement park known as Santa Claus Land down in Spencer County, the very same county where the future Sixteenth President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, spent his formative years and while Kentucky was home to the Great Emancipator's birthplace and Illinois promoted itself as the 'Land of Lincoln', Indiana was his boyhood home.
Needless to say, the difference in backgrounds between the five foot eight man with brown hair and brown eyes and his six foot two friends with blue eyes and flaxen was night and day and while the interclass amity did pose challenges such as the time when he was almost sent east to the Roxbury Latin School but ultimately attended a nearby college preparatory known as the Park School instead, no one would dispute the fact that the two became close friends even though they were from a completely different stratum, the pair however habitually disregarded that their situation was interclass and had a rapport with the only real clashes between them being political in nature and even then it was regarding the Conservative and Liberal Wings of the Republican Party ideologically with for instance the Meyer's uncompromisingly backing U.S. Senator William Ezra Jenner while the Westbrook's supported Jenner's colleague Howard J. Whitmore, Junior who had defeated the current President's and Attorney-General's own younger brother Edward in the 1964 Election after a tight race with even the Boston Globe proclaiming that Ted's Political Aspirations are Dead!' and the National Review simply declared 'Nepotism Halted'.
Undoubtedly Harvard was his expected future but the draft and poor timing threw off the plans. Without a fuss, Sam went in not as a commissioned officer after four years at an Ivy League institution but rather as one of the low-ranking enlisted men and while outside observers would believe him to utilize connections in escaping from his predicament, noblesse oblige was considered to be an old money trait.
"Asshole." Meyer muttered some rare profanity in jest but of course out of earshot due to the presence of a woman before he reached into the cooler and grabbed a Schlitz courtesy of the Joseph Schlitz Brewing Company of Milwaukee for himself and one for Sara.
It still amazed the Devil Dog that the Corellian could drink him under the table, but that was not the point. The point was that the Leatherneck truly enjoyed the time they had together so far and he also learned that the redhead was an orphan and she enlisted in the Republic Army at the age of sixteen and was currently a corporal in its SpecForce Division.
Snorting at the thoughts of forming a relationship with an extragalactic human female who somehow managed to pass Special Forces training, the Military Policeman handed his sweetheart her drink.
"Here you are, babe. An all-American beer."
"Thank you, larel." She smiled sweetly before placing a peck on his cheek.
She looked stunning in the dress his stepmother gave her. Originally, Sara was going to wear her galaxy's equivalent to a service uniform with pants but Rebecca somehow convinced the Corellian to wear the cobalt blue-colored dress for the celebrations to draw attention away from herself and shortly after the redhead kissed his cheek, the fireworks started to ring out as the show began.
"Here's to a great Fourth of July." Sam toasted. "May America last for two thousand years and more."
The glasses were clinked and the trio watched as the display continued.
Private First Class Jake Gregory Meyer - MOS 5811 Military Policeman, Military Police Detachment, Marine Barracks Brooklyn, United States Marine Corps
Southeastway Park - 5624 South Carroll Road, New Palestine, Sugar Creek Township, Hancock County, Indiana, United States of America, North America, Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy
07:06:15 ATC / July 6th, 1968 - 12:00 / 12:00 PM
If everybody had an ocean
Across the U. S. A.
Then everybody'd be surfin'
Like Californi-a
You'd seem 'em wearing their baggies
Huarache sandals too
A bushy bushy blonde hairdo
Surfin' U. S. A.
You'd catch 'em surfin' at Del Mar
Ventura County line
Santa Cruz and Trestle
Australia's Narrabeen
All over Manhattan
And down Doheny Way
Everybody's gone surfin'
Surfin' U.S.A.
We'll all be planning that route
We're gonna take real soon
We're waxing down our surfboards
We can't wait for June
We'll all be gone for the summer
We're on Surfari to stay
Tell the teacher we're surfin'
Surfin' U. S. A.
In the background, some boys were chasing each other around with cap rifles and revolvers, attired in Western-theme garb straight out of the Old West and Harrison Meyer pulled down the lever of his Nichols Spitfire as he pursued Clyde Brandhorst into the woods only to hear an unexpected sound, one more befitting for the Roaring 20s and John Dillinger than Abilene, Kansas and Tucson, Arizona in the late 1800s.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!
"You're dead!" Clyde shouted as he emerged from behind a tree with a Mattel Tommyburst in his hands, a literal toy Thompson Submachine Gun and an imitation of a design that only appeared a few years before the Posey War which was a small, brief three-day conflict with American Indians in Utah in 1923 which was considered to be an official closing to what was once the Old West but even by then the American West was no longer 'Wild' per se.
"Hey, no fair!" Harrison called out. "There were no Chicago Pianos in the Wild West!"
"All is fair in love and war." Clyde countered to his cousin.
"Then pine cones are grenades!" Harrison justified as he tossed one in Clyde's direction but not too far away a different scene was playing out.
"Jake, no!"
The Leatherneck, however, grinned at his giggling girlfriend before throwing her into the lake. It has been nearly a year already and the American believed without doubt that it was a match made in heaven.
But his act did not go without retaliation as in return, the Republic SpecForce soldier gave him the death glare and started to splash water at him.
"Okay! Okay! I get it! You don't like the water and I surrender!"
"It's not the water I don't like." Sara playfully pouted. "It's you ruining my attempts at tanning."
"Sorry, angel." Jake smirked just before Mister Westbrook called out the welcoming words.
"LUNCH IS READY!"
All at once, Jake, Sara, and the others ran to the picnic tables where the meal was being served.
"My, it seems that you enjoyed yourselves."Jake's stepmother, Rebecca, smiled as she noticed her stepson and the Corellian holding hands despite being both wet.
"I sure did. Not sure about Sara though."
The redhead gave her man a little love tap in response to him embarrassing her.
"Ouch! What was that for!?" Jake questioned, the Hoosier rubbing his now sore arm.
"That was for throwing me into the water." She smiled ever so sweetly. " I didn't think that your mother raised you to be such a barbarian."
Before Jake could mention something regarding his late mother, his father interrogated him from the grill, a twinkle in his eyes as he flipped the burgers and sausages.
"Oh? Did he now?"
"DAD!"
Everyone chuckled at the Devil Dog's expense.
The people at the cookout were Jake's and Sam's families, both nuclear as well as extended. Jake's father was in the 82nd Airborne during the Second World War and two of his uncles were in the 1st Marine Raider Battalion under Merritt Austin Edson, Senior. His paternal grandfather Stefan was at Belleau Wood in the 5th Marine Regiment while his maternal grandfather Henry was drafted in August 1918 and was placed in the 7th Infantry Regiment of the Regular Army - becoming one of the few Doughboys to be issued the Rifle, Caliber .30, Automatic, Browning, M1918 - and his step-grandfather Douglas was in the Indian Wars including escorting the infamous Apache warrior Geronimo for internment in Florida, and later charged up San Juan Hill, finally serving in World War I as a Sergeant in the First Infantry Division: The famed 'Big Red One'.
Then there was the background of who was quite possibly the oldest guest in attendance at the age of eighty-seven, that being none other than Jake's paternal Great-Grandfather, Walther, who upon the outbreak of the Spanish-American War back in 1898 enlisted in the 27th Battery, Indiana Volunteer Artillery and landing on Puerto Rico before his unit was ordered to engage the Spaniards at Guayma, where it arrived on August 13th.
The Battery was in position along the San Juan Road in conjunction with Battery A, Missouri Volunteer Artillery; Battery A, Pennsylvania Volunteer Artillery, and Battery A, Illinois Volunteer Artillery but as fate would have it when the battle was about to begin, the artillery crews received word to stand-down as the armistice was signed and therefore never fired a shot.
But Walther's father Wilhelm was in the 32nd Indiana 'First German' Volunteer Infantry Regiment during the American Civil War and saw action including the brazen stand that received national acclaim at the Battle of Rowlett's Station on December 17th, 1861 where the outnumbered first and second generation German-Americans fought off Texas Rangers and supporting Confederate Infantry.
Jake was just the latest in his family tree to serve his country but Samuel's family, on the other hand, had a longer history of service when his ancestor, Ronald Westbrook arrived in America aboard the Mayflower and served as a Sergeant in the colonial militia for the Massachusetts Bay Colony.
The two families continued their conversations as they reached the banquet table that had the standard bratwurst, potato salad, coleslaw, and other picnic fare. There was even cheesecake for dessert.
Walking up to the table, Sam reached for the nearest slice and attempted to grab it, but someone else had other ideas as she snatched it out of his hands.
"Excuse me Sara, but I believe that the piece you currently have is mine."
"Shut up." The Corellian smiled deviously before sticking her tongue out in an unladylike manner. Usually, the redhead wasn't this childish in her personality, but she can never get enough of this treat the Earthlings called 'cheesecake'.
"Although it was an unfortunate travesty, historically..." Westbrook began. "People born on this planet with red hair were once burned for witchcraft."
"And I can shoot you from over one thousand meters with my boyfriend's rifle." Sara threatened, smiling in victory as the off-duty paratrooper started to sweat.
"You're scary. You know that?" A voice said behind her.
It was Jake and he grabbed her from behind, pulling her into a hug. The redhead beamed as the Marine glanced back to Westbrook.
"Sorry Sam, but there are three rules that I learned from her and number one on the list is to never get between her and her cheesecake." He declared to the Sergeant before pecking Sara's forehead. " Isn't that right?"
"Are you serious?" Samuel pouted. "She just threatened me and I thought you would wear the pants, traitor!"
Jake shook his head as Sam stormed off with his pride hurt, unexpected for a high-class gentleman but he was certain that he was messing with her.
"Think you should go after him?"
The Jarhead focused on his sweetheart. His one and only despite being a potential hazard to his health. "Nah, he'll be fine." Meyer shrugged. "Besides I learned the hard way to never get between you and your slice of cheesecake."
"Lesson learned." She smiled before giving him an affectionate peck on the cheek.
Private First Class Jake Gregory Meyer - MOS 5811 Military Policeman, Military Police Detachment, Marine Barracks Brooklyn, United States Marine Corps
Meyer Farmhouse - Acton, Franklin Township, Marion County, Indiana, United States of America, North America, Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy
07:08:15 ATC/ Sunday, July 7th, 1968 - 8:00 PM
"Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before!"
"That Communist show again?" Jake questioned as he overheard the introduction for that show 'Star Trek' narrated by William Shatner but it didn't take much to wonder about Roddenberry's true intentions and for him to speculate the actual subtle messages, which was propaganda inducing Communism of course, and seeing through the whole scheme did not require membership in the John Birch Society at all but it was unfortunate how there were fellow Birchers who did not recognize the obvious red flags. "NBC should pull it off the air."
"To be fair, the inaccurate portrayal of hyperdrives and blasters aside, I think you would look cute in one of the red shirts." She jested.
The Marine however rolled his eyes and countered the wisdom of wearing an obvious target. "I prefer olive drab, it's less conspicuous and blends in with the terrain. Besides, they seem to have a habit of dying immediately on arrival."
"Nevermind." The redhead relented. "Honestly, I wonder how Spock would fare as a Jedi? He has the stereotypical stoicism down although I'm unsure if the fictitious Vulcan philosophy has anything conflicting with the Jedi Code."
"I suppose it's ultimately a matter of perspective and principles." He reasoned after taking a sip of his beer. "Everything is seen from a certain point of view and the truth can become opinionated but theories and perspectives can only go so far compared to reality."
"Are you some philosopher?"
"Nah, just some Average Joe who happens to be observant and politically savvy to the surprise of the pretentious disciples of Nelson Rockefeller." Jake chuckled as he made good-natured fun of the clueless Ivy Leaguers he's ambivalent about. "Besides, I read about the issues from time to time and no one needs a degree from Harvard or Yale to understand them."
"More like astute." Sara snorted.
"Hey, that's right!" Jake chuckled. "Mom always said that I was bright." He paused and momentarily gazed at a black-and-white photograph hanging on the wall showing a blonde woman petting the nose of her American Saddlebred before turning back to the screen of the television. 'At least William Shatner doesn't own a ranch because if he did I hope the stallion buck him and the resulting fall kills him.'
Private First Class Jake Gregory Meyer - MOS 5811 Military Policeman, Military Police Detachment, Marine Barracks Brooklyn, United States Marine Corps
Meyer Farmhouse - Acton, Franklin Township, Marion County, Indiana, United States of America, North America, Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy
07:08:15 ATC/ Monday, July 8th, 1968 - 06:00 / 6:00 AM
With only five days of accrued leave left, Jake had to make the most of his time at home helping out especially since he hadn't been in the reserves for quite some time but rather the regular Marine Corps, and of course Elke was throwing darts at the board, which may as well be her favorite hobby.
"Moin, pikanten Muffin (Hello, spicy muffin)."
"Jake…" Elke glared at him due to mentioning an adorable nickname that was really not before she threw the dart at the picture of George Stanley McGovern, the liberal South Dakotan who was presently the director of Food for Peace.
"Wat is 't dit keer? (What is it this time)?"
"De rotte Pinko steiht achter 't weggeven van 'n extra twintig Millionen Tonn an Commodities an Mali un de Republik von Guinea, de französisch-kolonien, de nuu Soviet-alierten sünd. (The rotten pinko is behind giving an extra twenty million tons of commodities to Mali and the Republic of Guinea, the French colonies that are now Soviet allies.)"
"Dat is de eerste keer, dat ik dorvan hört hebb (That's the first time I've heard of it.)" Jake rolled his eyes and wondered how harebrained the South Dakotan was, nevermind the President, if they thought they could just bribe nations with food when their corrupt leaders were just going to sell it off for cash to afford luxuries or even just hoard it for themselves. "Mit Darts kriggt man keen vun Kennedy's Diener ut 't Amt, dat köönt bloot de Amtsentheffung oder de nächste Regierung. (You won't get any of Kennedy's servitors out of office with darts, it can only be impeachment or the next government.)"
"Ik mok bloot mien Frust los. (I'm just venting my frustration.)" The towhead, fraternal twin, and third eldest child deadpanned.
"As üblich. (As usual.)" Jake remarked as he poured himself coffee from the percolator and right on time as his father emerged.
"Is de Koffie klaar?(Is the coffee ready?)"
"Dat sall ik nuu rutfinnen. (I'll find out now.)"
The inimient articulation of English however adjourned the exchange in Low German and caused the men as well as Rebecca's stepdaughter to immediately cease using Platt.
"Sweetheart, why don't you grab us some eggs?" Rebecca prodded upon noticing the pair of darts that struck the eyes as well as the tip of the nose that could form a perfectly aligned inverted triangle with a string.
"Sure will."
As the third-eldest brush passed her when she arrived in the kitchen, Sara admired the handiwork and accurate precision of Elke's throwing. "Your sister is still rather sharp with darts."
"She sure is." Jake sighed. "And while at it continue to bring another definition for being dour."
Personal Entry
I find that the sense of identity and perception of freedom being confounding between the Americans and the Republic, contradictions such as the principle of a "Separation between Church & State" paraphrased from Thomas Jefferson's writings even though the Constitution of the United States only mentions that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof" and school prayer is deemed acceptable yet an institution like the Jedi Order however would not be acceptable as a branch of government in this society.
Even so, I still cannot help but find a charm and while settling on and assimilating into this quaint world is appealing, I still have to prioritize my obligations and my duty has precedence over personal feelings.
The fact that the Federation of Planets is nonexistent and a fabrication for entertainment is reassuring but the claims of aversion to the Force, the inhabitants and material alike being unphased by the effects may be concerning and result in high casualties among Sith.
It is unknown whether such a phenomenon is only viable in this new Galaxy or if it could be transported to the Galaxy if it remains present as an inheritable trait.
It is also unknown if the impervious nature is thorough or a temporary barrier that could be overwhelmed.
What I fear is not the threat of the natives as they are incapable of offensive actions beyond even their planetary atmosphere but if the Republic integrating it into its war apparatus and committing genocide against the Sith civilization once more. It happened before and undoubtedly it could transpire again.
I am also apprehensive about the correct course as all indications suggest that the natives are concerned with planetary affairs and not an entire galaxy sixty light-years away from their homeworld.
However, the fact is evident:
Earth and the surrounding region of space is the key to tipping the tide as whoever controls the resources can be assured to remain unimpeded by the Force itself and that does bring two unpleasant consequences.
The Empire could either attempt to subjugate the natives and exploit the natural resources or commit genocide against the inhabitants.
The Earthlings should have been oblivious to our existence and us theirs but then again I would have never met Jake.
He is no-nonsense and can be blunt at times but he still has his moments, witty, and intelligent but not overbearing. I actually would not figure him to be someone who would be related to those with antics as he is even-tempered in contrast with 'Irish Temperament' but overall I feel at ease whenever I'm around him.
It sounds erroneous but apostatizing from the Empire as I sincerely feel for him and the ambience is captivating. Perhaps I went native but it just feels right.
I will also go ahead and reveal that it will be mentioned that Jake's maternal grandparents have a horse farm in Tipton County, Indiana - with his grandfather also running a gun shop - and before anyone asks the fact that 'only wealthy people own horses' is actually a misconception and case in point, as a personal disclosure, my maternal grandparents have a horse farm and no, it is not a stud farm and they have not ridden for years as nowadays they take in retired riding steeds. Additionally, my maternal grandfather is a retired firefighter and my maternal grandmother is a retired nurse who grew up with horses although her father - my great-grandfather - was a bar owner and the son of immigrants from Frankfurt, Germany. Neither of them has been to, for instance, the Kentucky Derby and in fact, they refuse to watch it given how they heard about abuses in the horse-racing industry but needless to say while it is an expensive hobby and there's no way I could afford it - though horses are not my passion even if I could deal with the upkeep -, it is not exclusively for rich snobs either.
And while on the subject, at the time William Shatner did not own Belle Reve Farm and it would not be until 1983 that the actor became fascinated with equine.