The War After Armageddon

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is a novel, not a strategic forecast. That said, the plot does engage several of my enduring concerns, most notably the iniquity of fanat i cism in the name of any faith; the danger of nuclear proliferation among parties not dependably subject to deterrence; and our military’s reliance on electronics that may prove all too fragile in a major war. Warfare’s superficial manifestations change mightily, but its essence remains flesh and blood.

Readers with military experience know that I’ve taken liberties in three areas. First, I drastically limited the use of acronyms to avoid rendering the book opaque even to veterans. A typical staff officer can work a half-dozen acronyms into a simple declarative sentence, but effective storytelling can’t emulate a cryptogram. Second, I simplified the structure of a corps staff to concentrate on a few key players. I sought to capture the feel of a staff, based on personal experience, instead of bogging the plot down in the infernal complexity of line-and-block charts and niche responsibilities. Third, I accelerated the pace of events to keep things “high and tight.” Forgive me.

Finally, I owe great thanks to several friends who helped me avoid embarrassing mistakes. Given the controversial themes of this novel, I won’t embarrass them by using their names, but they know who they are: a cherished wine-drinking buddy who commanded a Marine regiment at war; another old friend and veteran U.S. Army Armor officer who went out of his way to prevent me from “throwing a track” on the page; and, not least, the magnificent Marine aviators out at Miramar who let me “crash” an F/A-18. The misfires in this novel are my own, but the steel on target owes much to these generous men.