Chapter 6: Big Mac's Big Attack
See, now's the time of the meal when you start getting the McStomach ache. You start getting the McTummy. You get the McGurgles in there. You get the McBrick, then you get the McStomach ache. Right now I've got some McGas that's rockin'. My arms... I feel like I've got some McSweats goin'. My arms got the McTwitches going in here from all the sugar that's going in my body right now. I'm feeling a little McCrazy.
Morgan Spurlock (A.D. 1970 - present)
The hastily repaired USS
Kentucky had scarcely left Pune harbor when the order to rearm was heard. Across the continent, workshops stepped up their production of longbows and muskets, and all military personnel from Jaipur to Bhopal were put on high alert. Jawaharlal Nehru traveled from city to city, urging them to the hurry up their construction projects so that new troops could be trained. Though the Americans would have to cross the sea to attack, India's pitiful lack of a coast guard meant that nobody could predict when and where they would strike. All Nehru could do was brace for the inevitable invasion.
But instead of any immediate offensive, it seemed that Lincoln had directed his energy elsewhere. In Mumbai and Madurai, rumors were heard about massive animal sacrifices accompanied by extravagant feasts of steak and turkey, ostensibly held to rally the American people. Caesar and Joan reported sightings of barges in the port of Memphis being loaded with the decaying hulks of hunted whales, but neither could confirm their purpose. In time, however, it became clear what the President was up to: a culture war.
News of these events sent a chill down Nehru's spine, as he recognized that the Americans were very advanced. "We are no longer facing some bathrobe-wearing pansy," he cautioned Gandhi. "America has both the capacity and the will to wipe us out."
But the Mahatma simply nodded in acknowledgment, as though there wasn't much to worry about. He pulled up the map of the American continent again, marking the locations of all the cattle ranches, fishing wharfs, and hunting grounds. "The average American eats 20 servings of meat every week," he explained. "With a diet like that, they're bound to have all kinds of problems. They're obviously being overworked now, so we'll have no trouble handling any exhausted troops they manage to dump on our beaches. I bet many of them will get seasick before they even arrive."
"Where did you hear that?" asked Nehru.
Gandhi reached into a drawer and produced a crumpled sheet of red paper, which he carefully unfolded to reveal a series of images with labels listed with numerals to the side. At the top of the sheet was a symbol similar to the Roman letter "M" written in a blatant egg-yolk yellow ink.
"This," said the Mahatma, "is a menu from McDonald's, the most successful chain restaurant in all of America. You would not believe the kind of unscrupulous business practices they have, but that is not my point. Just look at what kind of garbage they feed their customers!"
Aside from one side dish known as "French fries," which Nehru presumed was introduced to America by the vegetarian people of France, there was not a single option on the menu that he did not find morally insulting. Most of the images depicted sandwiches, but quite a different kind from the ones that the Romans used to eat. In fact, they had an entirely different name: "burgers." Instead of the lean, thin-sliced bologna and salami that had been the casus belli between Rome and India, these American burgers contained thick patties of beef that had been fried to a deep brown and were dripping with grease, immediately contaminating the single lettuce leaf that was the only vegetable offering in the stack. Elsewhere, there were variations on this theme, sometimes in the form of chicken, other times replaced with fish, but the end result was equally revolting to Nehru. "How can the Americans stomach such a thing?" he wondered aloud. "Not only is it pointlessly wasteful of life, but eating this kind of junk would cause an instant heart-attack."
"You are quite right," said Gandhi, handing him another sheet of paper. "Now take a look at this report, prepared by a team of expert nutritional chemists from the University of Delhi."
Nehru stared at it in disbelief. "A thousand calories in a sandwichthat's absolutely horrendous! And look at all that sodium and cholesterol... just the thought of it makes me sick."
"And now you understand why we have very little to fear," assured Gandhi. "Then they fight you. Then you win."
Perhaps this was why the Americans didn't immediately invade the Indian homeland, but instead focused on smaller prizes. In 1250 AD, Abraham Lincoln promulgated the Marinara Doctrine, which boldly claimed suzerainty over the high seas, suggesting that American forces would scoop up any outlying islands like meatballs from a plate of spaghetti. While the American navy could quite plausibly follow through on such a threat, Gandhi had little reason to be concerned, as India had never ventured beyond the continent. Julius Caesar scoffed at the ignorance of the Americans, noting that nobody in Rome had put meatballs on pasta for over 700 years. "How dare that fool use the name of my marinara sauce in vain," he snickered, feigning offense. "If Lincoln were ever to visit Rome, I would bury him under an avalanche of tomatoes and olive oil."
Only Joan of Arc was in a state of panic, as France had the most to lose if America took such an action. The isolated colony of Rouen was practically in the same bowl of soup as the American settlements at Denver, Cincinnati, and Memphis. "I must defend my people!" declared Joan as she began recruiting knights and swordsmen to the cause, only to find that she had no way to transport them there once ready, as Nicolas-Alexandre had just taken the last caravel out of Lyons harbor with a shipment of Bordeaux wine intended to calm the fears of French colonists. She would have cursed, but instinctively she clutched the cross around her neck and instead reminded herself that God would side with the vegetarians for sure.
By the time he completed the voyage, the Nicolas-Alexandre did not find himself welcomed by desperate French citizens, but instead a stern military officer clad in a neat, periwinkle blue uniform. He introduced himself as General Ulysses S. Grant, thanked the Marquis for the free delivery of goods with which he could reward his troops, and then promptly ordered the ship to leave. Rouen had fallen.
A despondent Joan of Arc lamented the first major defeat in the war against America, unable to do anything but kneel at the altar of Notre-Dame, contemplating how the heavens could have forsaken her.
Perhaps this was just a test of my resolve, she thought,
and so long as I have faith, we shall be victorious. And suddenly, as if someone was reading her mind, a voice echoed through the cathedral: "Indeed."
Two men had entered the hall, the first being the Marquis de Ségur, who turned to the other red-clad figure and implored, "But, Your Eminence, we need a strategy!"
"Cardinal Richelieu, what a fine moment for you to arrive," remarked Joan. "Please, tell us how we can recover from this tragedy."
The Cardinal stroked his beard for a moment, then said, "We cannot win this war against the Americans alone. Lincoln feels that he can flex his military muscle here because he does not fear retaliation from our allies, who currently are, shall I say,
underpowered." Here he paused, letting the final word reverberate throughout the hall. Joan nodded in tacit agreement.
"We must support our allies, particularly the Indians, in a way such that they can also share some of our maritime responsibilities," continued Richelieu. "Thus far they have been unwilling to commit to any kind of naval activity, but I am willing to believe this might not be out of cowardice. Rather, they are simply somewhat uncertain of their ability to navigate the high seas, and so I suggest we provide them some guidance in this regardof course, not without asking for some compensation as well."
Within moments, Nicolas-Alexandre found himself assigned to carry out this negotiation, presenting the plan to a skeptical Nehru during a dinner at La Cuisinière. While the Marquis knew deep down that India was paying much more than France in this exchange, he was counting on Gandhi's friendship and cooperative spirit to make the deal work. Eventually, the two reached an agreement.
Still, this would not be the end of Joan's troubles. Shortly thereafter, Lincoln dispatched his second-best commander, General Robert E. Lee, who seized the poorly defended southern French outpost at Chartres. French knights were ordered to retake the city, and this time the caravel
Fougasse was ready and waiting in Marseilles to ferry them across the channel. However, en route to the Île-de-Chartres it was discovered that no horses had been brought along, as the supply from the offshore pastures had been cut off by the Americans. Upon realizing this, many of these knights, who were mostly sons of noble blood, refused to fight like ordinary foot soldiers and instead openly mutinied.
Under such pressure, the crewmen were forced to turn back, only to come face to face with the USS
White Castle, which had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Within a few rounds, all that remained of the
Fougasse were a few shattered boards, on which a handful of struggling knights clung, desperately trying to stay afloat while cursing the heavy chain mail armor that weighted them down.
Greatly embarrassed, Joan had no choice but to call off the attack. Her anxiety soon turned to horror as American frigates began to line up on the horizon not far from Marseilles. Under threat of invasion of mainland France, she had no choice but to agree to a separate peace, formally forfeiting all claims to Rouen and Chartres.
In Delhi, Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was the first to denounce this as a failure of Nehru's foreign policy. "Those French good-for-nothings, the first thing they do when facing some minor difficulty is surrender," he sneered. "When you talk to them they act tough, but when it comes time to battle they'll simply shrivel up like a rotten grape." Mahatma Gandhi hushed him before the insult could be publicized, but he heard Bose's second, hidden message quite clearly: that in spite of being only two cities strong, the Romans were much more reliable allies.
Nehru was quick to defend his actions. "This is no big deal, they're simply faltering over a lack of a few horses," he explained. "We just to need to give France a minor boost, as well as urge Joan to instill a bit more discipline in her troops." Bose scowled but did not respond.
Yet even though the French were brought back into the alliance, it seemed that the Americans were only getting started. Having successfully established dominance over the seas, Lincoln next turned to the Indian mainland. Grant suggested to begin the attack at Jaipur, which was on a vulnerable northern peninsula within easy reach of American forces, but Lee argued vehemently that Pune must be taken first, in order to deny India the sea passageway that led to France. In the end, Lincoln could not decide between the two alternatives and sided with a third option presented by the Army chief, General George B. McClellan.
Known as "Big Mac" to his men, McClellan was quite popular among the American soldiers and seemed a natural fit for leading the charge against India. But he also fancied being a grand strategist and thought he had a better plan: eliminate the Romans once and for all.
Just two little towns can't put up that much of a resistance, he reasoned.
With a minimal amount of effort, we can dispose of one-third of the enemy alliance. The President gave his approval, but Grant and Lee were snubbed and both of them came up with excuses to avoid supporting McClellan in the invasion.
In 1355 AD, McClellan landed a massive invasion force of knights, longbowmen, and swordsmen along the shore beside Monte Cassino, preparing to first destroy the Roman iron mines, thereby severely crippling Rome's war economy. A lone spear-wielding lookout named Cincinnatus stood atop the summit, and immediately upon seeing the Americans he alerted not only Caesar but also Lucullus, sensing that time was not on his side. Lucullus was aware that much of the Roman military was away on offshore training exercises, but felt there were sufficient auxiliary forces, mostly musketmen, to defend the cities. Still, he was unwilling to take any risks with regard to the invaders, and decided it was time to ask for reinforcements.
Meeting at the Horti Lucullani, Bose could not have been any less enthusiastic. "India will gladly come to your aid," he promised Lucullus. "We have been preparing for this moment for years, and now the time is ripe for us to let out our pent-up rage. Let the Americans tremble in fear!"
Indeed, before dawn the morning the American camp was woken by a low rumbling sound in the distance. At first, McClellan thought it was an approaching thunderstorm, but with a clear sky above he could not explain the situation. Then he noticed that tree branches were shaking slightly, even though there was hardly any wind.
Was this the drum roll of the enemy? he thought. He nervously scanned the horizon, watching for signs of activity, when he eventually pinpointed a cloud of dust rising from behind a hill. Something dangerous was closing in.
Guided by Cincinnatus, Indian forces had arrived at the base of Monte Cassino, with the vanguard led by the most fearsome fighters ever known, the mighty war elephant. Suddenly, a deafening trumpeting sound blasted through the air. Startled, McClellan mounted his horse and urged his men to prepare for battle. He had hardly fit his feet into the stirrups when a stampede of elephants tore through the camp, crushing everything in their path. Amid the terrified screams of falling Americans, McClellan drew his sword, snapped his whip, and chargedinstantly colliding with an angry pachyderm, upon whose tusks he found himself impaled.
Big Mac's big attack was routed in moments, with a victorious India now more determined than ever to seek vengeance from America. Cincinnatus was hailed as a hero of the Roman Republic, leading a triumphal parade in the streets of Rome, while an emboldened Caesar climbed atop Monte Cassino, taunting the President on the other side of the sea. But amid the victory celebrations, it was Lucullus alone who knew of how close disaster had come. He drifted away after only a few bowls of fruit and goblets of wine, knowing that his work was not finished. There was more he had to do to ensure a crisis like this would never happen again.
Of course, he was still a fine chef. And as everyone in the civilized world knew, good vegetarian food has no trouble finding good friends.
... to be continued
'd)
