May 11th, 1954

Washington, DC

The various generals, officers, and civilian heads of the U.S. Military shuffled uncomfortably in their seats. Even MacArthur seemed on edge, going through his signature pipe smoke at such a rate it seemed as though the exhales would soon fill the room. Very few of those present today had been in this room the last time such a conversation was to happen, and absolutely no one knew what to expect from President Disney.

Eventually the President entered the room, causing everyone in attendance to quickly stand up from their seats.

"Please, please, sit down," the President said, "you know how much I hate that sort of formality."

At that, all those standing sat back in their seats, as the President poured himself a thumb of scotch at the nearby bar cart and took his place at the head of the conference table.

"So Mac," he began, turning to the Secretary of Defense, "what the hell exactly is this about."

"Mr. President," MacArthur responded, his face devoid of expression, "we've got the payloads ready at Clark Air Base. I believe you've been informed of the nature of the equipment being deployed there."

The President sighed. This is not at all what he thought he would be entering the presidency to do.

"I do, but Mac please, for my benefit, can you go through everything one more time? This is not a decision to be made lightly."

Mac ashes his pipe, and packs another smoke. He adjusts his cap, wiping sweat from his brow as he looks over the dispatches from General Patton.

"Well, uh, Walt. We've got seven warheads in the Philippines right now. Six of them are Mark 5 warheads. Those have a yield of 16 kilotons - that's just slightly bigger than the ones dropped at....well, y'know."

"Goddamnit Mac," the President interjected, raising his voice, "not the payloads, the purpose. I've spent the past year railing on Truman for what he did in office and now you want me to follow him into hell by joining the club of people that have ordered the dropping of a damn atom bomb on people!"

The President stood up, agitated, as total silence took over the room. The meeting was happening late at night - when most White House staffers would have already gone home - but if anyone was still around they could have heard Disney clear across the West Wing.

"When Truman dropped the bomb, it was a global fight for democracy, a war of survival against a state who struck us first. You're asking me to drop not one, not two, but seven goddamn bombs in the fucking jungle to take out an insurgent group! Is this really the precedent we want to set, that we can be using these things whenever the hell we feel like it?"

MacArthur responded likely a bit too quickly. ""Mr. President, I assure you that you'll definitely overshadow Truman in the history books. With this strike, we'll destroy the ability of the Viet Minh to fight us - they'll be forced into the fringes of the country. It'll save American lives and end the war."

Disney rolled his eyes. "And how many are going to die in the process, Mac? How many lives are we going to snuff out because of our failures on the ground? How many more lives are going to be lost if we normalize the use of such massive weapons in combat?"

"Technically speaking, Mr. President," MacArthur responded, getting out of his seat, "these aren't big cities like Hiroshima or Nagasaki we're hitting - these are being used in a tactical role. Much fewer civilian casualties. If anything, we're correcting the irresponsible precedent Truman set. When Hiram Maxim invented the machine gun, he didn't first test it out on unarmed civilians - it's a weapon of war. It belongs on the frontlines."

"And with all due respect, Mr. President," added Vice Chief of Staff of the Air Force Curtis LeMay, "letting the war drag on any longer won't win you favors at home. No one wants more of our boys coming home in wooden boxes."

"This isn't about the damn ballot box Curtis!"

With that, Disney threw his glass of scotch clear across the conference room.

"The people of this country chose me not just to be a leader, but to be an example for the world, an image of how we want the globe to see America. You have to understand how that image will be forever tainted if we start using these things in whatever conflict we stick ourselves in! Where are we gonna bomb next? The hills in Greece? The forests of Korea? Hell, why don't we start dropping bombs on Puerto Rico next, they just shot up the capital!"

MacArthur paused before responding this time, picking up a fresh glass from the cart and pouring it halfway full with scotch, before handing it to Disney.

"Walt," the General eventually said, "we're ending the war. You'll be hailed as a hero. They'll build statues of you in Hanoi and Saigon!"

Taking the glass, Disney downs half of it in a single tilt.

"Will they though, Mac? Or are they just going to see me, see us as the new empire who marched into their land and brought death and destruction to impose our will? Why the hell should we even be there in the first place?"

"Walt," MacArthur replied, his voice also raising a bit, "I assure you - we're not going to be sticking around any longer than we can help it. Once we destroy these commie [SLUR]s we'll be out of there, and leave Vietnam to the government of that god-forsaken country."

LeMay nodded, before giving the President a deadpan stare.

"This is a Communist insurgency," LeMay includes, "one fighting against a democratic government. An insurgency that, ever since we cut ties with their leadership, has wreaked havoc upon the civilian population of Vietnam. If anyone cries for their atomic demise, they'll only show their true colors. I don't see why we should care if the Commies go to hell by way of bullet or bomb."

Disney finishes the rest of the glass as LeMay finished his speech.

"Ah, FUCK!"

He reached back, about to throw this glass as well, but stopped himself halfway through the motion. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before sitting back down and putting down his glass calmly on the conference table.

"This job fucking sucks sometimes, you know?" Disney eventually stated.

MacArthur shook his head, his voice almost bordering on patronizing. "I have to say, Mr. President, I used to envy your position. I don't think I'd rather anybody else be in your position right now. I sure as shit am glad you're sitting here and not Kefauver."

LeMay nodded. "He sure as hell wouldn't have made the hard choices the job requires. Someone like him, a panderer, is one step removed from a Commie. The American people need someone to make their hard choices for them. They chose you, sir."

Disney grunted at the mention of Kefauver, thinking back to their debates. He lambasted the man then for not being able to take the firm stance needed against Communism to keep America, and Her allies, free and democratic, and yet here he was, not willing to make that same stance. Was he no better than Kefauver?

He paused for a moment, before silently getting up and walking over to the drinks cart. He poured himself a nearly full glass of scotch, and looked down into it. The face of his father looked back up at him.

Disney closed his eyes and nodded, setting the glass aside, and filling a different one with water. Bringing that one with him back to his seat, he sat down and took a sip, before turning back to MacArthur.

"Alright Mac," he began, "let's go through this one more time. Where would these bombs be dropped, and what outcomes can we expect from them? I don't want more grand statements of 'it will destroy the communists', give me specifics. If we are gonna do this, I want to make sure it's done right."

"Alright," MacArthur said, picking up a stack of papers. "Six of the seven targets are military. These will be focused on destroying the infantry formations of the Viet Minh surrounding the are of the Tonkin region we have under our control. This will free up our forces to launch decisive attacks against other points in the line, routing the enemy. These bombs, like I said, are each a Hiroshima or a Nagasaki. They aren't hitting heavily populated areas - they're aimed at frontlines, the soldiers who have taken up arms to fight on the side of Communism against the shield of freedom."

Disney nods. "And the seventh?"

"Well sir," the General continues, "the seventh is a bunker buster - it's aimed for Giap's headquarters. 20 kilotons, so it's bigger, but it's being rammed into the dirt, so it's not as destructive."

"I see."

Disney looked over the copies of the papers in front of him - troops arrangements, supply lines, rotation and reinforcement doctrines, supercarrier defenses, the whole of the matter.

"Mac," he eventually began, "you say the bulk of these bombs are dealing with frontline positions in the north, but to my untrained eyes, it seems as though those front lines go through civilian population centers. Would that not cause significant collateral damage?"

"To be frank, Walt, the only population center we're hitting is Viet Nooyen -"

With that, MacArthur pointed to Viet Nguyen on the map in front of them.

"- and that city has already been through hell and back with conventional bombs. I doubt there's anybody left hanging around who isn't Viet Minh. Officially, these bombs don't leave any toxic discharge. The ash will be carried by prevailing winds northwest, so nothing to worry about."

Disney poured over the map again. "Those seem pretty close to our troop deployments. I remember being told we tested this exact scenario back in '51 - Bastard Jingle I think it was - but don't remember what the results were for troop effectiveness in the wake of atomic detonation."

MacArthur chuckled and shook his head. "Buster-Jangle, Walt. We aren't going to be maneuvering in that area anyways. The Xs on the map are bigger than the radius of effect."

"They're still going to see and hear the blasts though," Disney insisted, "if these bombs are gonna demoralize the Viet Minh simply by being there, are we certain that it won't have a similar effect on our men? And that any lingering damage from the bombings won't hinder the planned advance on Thanh Hóa or interfere with the partisan operations ongoing there?"

"Well Walt, I think I'd be pretty goddamned chuffed to see our President greenlighting these acts of God to be inflicted on an enemy that's been giving us hell. And no, it won't affect our Thanh Hóa offensive, or any of the partisan operations. We've swept the areas with aircraft, and it all looks good. We just need the okay."

"Hmph."

Disney closes his eyes again, thinking it over one last time. He knew in principal that atom bombs were just big bombs, but they felt different, emanated a different weight. It was a commitment to the act of destruction, a sign as unambiguous as any that the complete and utter annihilations of whatever you aimed at was not only acceptable, but preferable to what would happen without doing so.

He looked down into his glass, and this time saw his own reflection looking back at him. It may be Patton's idea, and Mac's plan, but it was his decision. And no, it was not easy, but no worthwhile decision ever is, and the American people had entrusted him with the final choice in deciding what was worth it, and what was not.

The President looked back up at MacArthur, LeMay, and the rest of the assembled generals. Every man in this room knew what it meant to commit to stamping out Communism, that godless and anti-democratic force that threatened to extinguish freedom wherever it was found. An atom bomb may be destructive, and seven even more so, but even a hundred bombs dropped on Vietnam would do less harm to the people of Indochina than letting Communism take root unopposed. And while dropping the bomb was something he would have to spend the rest of his life thinking about, letting the Reds win here is something he could never forgive himself for.

"Alright Mac," the President finally said, looking the General in the eye, "do it."