Micah Gurley - Invasion Day - An Oral History of the Veech War

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 18 thbeen 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…

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 fall and disappear. I had my phone out, and I just stood there, hoping I could see another one. I thought it was a falling comet or something.

That’s when I saw the water move like a shark was coming at me. Like when the water surges on both sides, with something big in the middle. I started to get scared at this point, but it all happened so fast. Then, suddenly, it stopped. I stood there for a few more minutes, my heart racing when it came out of the water. I didn’t know what I was seeing at first.

It looked like a man, well, kind of. It looked like a weird-shaped man with an enormous head and glowing skin. I couldn’t see details well because it was sparkly, like, umm, well, you know. It looked like it was covered in shiny plastic. I know now that it was a personal shield of some type. But at the time, all I could do was stare at it as it stopped about ten meters away from me. I couldn’t move. I was scared.

We both stood like that, the alien moving his head from side to side, looking at the beach. It didn’t say anything, not a sound, just kept looking. Then it looked at me again, turned and walked back into the water. I already had my smartphone out, with the camera open, so I took a quick picture, then it was gone.

I turned around, swam back, and hoped the thing wasn’t following me. When I reached my friends, I told them about what had happened. Some of them laughed even after I showed them the picture! They didn’t believe me or thought I might have seen a diver or something. Others thought it was a ghost, and that scared them much more than an alien.

Did you call the police?

He laughs again.

Nobody calls the police unless you have money to give them. They were more likely to take me to a crazy hospital than help me. No, I sat on the beach, next to my friends, and then put it on social media as any good Vietnamese youth would. (laughs.)Most people said the photo was faked or that I was trying to get likes. Nobody took it seriously. Now, I just feel lucky I survived. It still scares me to think about it. I still wonder what it was doing. It wasn’t until later that I realized it was the first picture of the Veech. Of course, the whole world found out three days later.

The Pentagon, Washington D.C.

Colonel Nathan Kratz’s office is in a large room with unadorned walls. Bare fluorescent bulbs hang from the ceiling, filling the room with light. Clutter fills the office, with manuals lining the walls, chairs, and an old wooden desk. Behind the desk sits Colonel Kratz. He’s a small man who doesn’t fill out his Air Force uniform. Thin with short black hair and wire-rimmed glasses, he leans back in a leather chair, with a knee resting on his gunmetal desk.