Historical Event: Neath Militia



The town of Neath is centered about sixty-three miles East-northeast of Wolcott. With a population of just under four hundred within township limits, the surrounding area was vast farmland populated by ranchers and those who tended their fields. Further out, forests enveloped the farmland and tumbled over steeper and steeper ridgelines and lesser mountains. Mostly poor and unassuming, this small village only played a minor role in the Kildare Quake incident due to the numbers of 'raiders' who came from this area. For years after the quake, it remained the quiet town that it always had. A small clinic staffed by a husband and wife team and police station were supplemented by a community funded volunteer fire department. A local radio station just outside of town would broadcast country music for most of the day. For all intents and purposes, it was a sleepy little town. There were not any attractions or major fairs to pass through. The locals had their quiet town and they liked it that way. For more than three hundred years, Neath barely changed.

Warday and the Following Weeks

Wolcott was hit with a ten megaton nuclear blast at 1433 Local time. The city, itself, was turned into a radioactive wasteland of slag and ruins in the blink of an eye. The fireball that levelled almost every structure for a twenty-five to thirty mile radius from the blast zone damaged buildings as far out as Neath - which escaped the worst of it. The sides of buildings facing Wolcott were tanned a deeper shade of their initial color, the stone walls of the area blackened just a touch. Cracked windows were not uncommon. The worst damage reported was the collapse of a barn when a Colonial Viper crashed into it, burning the structure to the ground.


Shocked beyond belief, the citizens of Neath grabbed their rifles and descended into their cellars. The radioactive clouds took their time as prevailing winds initially dropped the debris from Wolcott further to the south. About three weeks after the blast, the winds shifted and gave the surrounding area a light dusting. It was enough to pick up but not enough to poison the local water table. Unaware, most people had already begun to leave their homes. With no contact from the government, the town of Neath began a slow spiral towards anarchy. A few of the livestock died. People started to worry about crops. Families started disappearing that were involved in disputes over supplies.

Exactly thirty days to the minute from the explosion, the Citizens Band (CBs) came alive to the sound of music. No words were sang. No opening given. The radios, which had been mostly silent to ignored pleas for help and assistance, lit up. Bagpipes played in memorial for those lost. It was a watershed moment for the whole community, the song tearing at heartstrings and the memories of what had been lost. Who had been lost. It reminded the community of Neath who they were and had been for three hundred years. As the echo of the song faded from the speakers, the next voice was that of a woman calling for people to meet in the center of Neath. It was time to stop fighting. It was time to band together.

Organization and Formation of the Neath Militia

Arriving in the center of town, the local population found five armed Colonial Marines: Lieutenant Natalie Vandenberg, Staff Sergeant Uriel Crowe, Sergeant Brady Watts, Lance Corporal Vince Bardeaux, and Private Lucas Fulloms. There was a young Raptor Ensign, as well: Morgan "Slick" Williams. The Lieutenant announced that she had been the one to make the call. Initially, people thought that the Marines were there to provide relief and news. Instead, they had Ensign Williams announce what he had learned about the attacks for the twenty-four hours after the bombs had hit. Many didn't believe them. Some refused to listen. Everyone was angry. Just when it looked like a mob might form, the bagpiper named Lance Otis called for calm and suggested they move to the local pub. While it sounded a bit curious to the Marines, they were not in any position to argue. Nor did they realize that this was the normal place to hold debates.


Initial discussions of news and stories went late into the night. Accusations of the past weeks were ignored. Those who would not heed the warnings were 'dismissed'. At nearly four AM local, the group disbanded and agreed to meet the following day. The next morning, the CB's were alive with discussions and invitations. The plans to meet and talk were passed quite a ways. When they did assemble, nearly all the survivors from the surrounding area showed. The town's population swelled from four hundred to nearly double that in a matter of hours. When it came time, the Mayor and Lieutenant Vandenberg stood in front of the crowd on a pair of picnic tables while Crowe and the other Marines stood guard against unrest that never came. News and facts were once again relayed. However, this time, the man and woman were ready. Calls for organization were made. The establishment of a defensive force was needed against the Cylons.

The idea of having their town controlled and defended by five members of the military was not something the citizens of Neath were willing to allow despite protestations from Vandenberg. However, after a very "spirited" debate, the Lieutenant backed down. It was decided that two men (Police Chief Frankie O'Malley and Pub Owner Marvin 'Mick' Sheldon) would organize the militia and be in charge. Lieutenant Vandenberg would act only in an advisory capacity and retain control of any and all trained military forces. Over the next few days it was all hashed out. Supplies were noted and help volunteered. The Mayor would spend the remainder of his months moving from crisis to crisis.


The first weeks were spent in reconnaissance. While the two men retained nominal control, the Marines led the groups of men and women further and further away from their town. They got as close as they dared to Wolcott - only enough to be able to spot the cold remains of Wolcott's once thriving downtown from a far ridgeline. Steadily, locals were escorted out to see it for themselves. It proved to have the effect the Marines expected: the citizens were furious. Seeing it for themselves really brought home the notion that the Cylons had intended to kill every last person on the colonies. They wanted proverbial blood. Revenge was in the air. A local Marine Reserve armory was raided within a few days and the Neath Militia was no longer a group of hesitant and armed locals. They were motivated and well-equipped. All they lacked was training. Vandenberg set out for each of her Marines to begin giving it where it was needed. Discipline was enforced not by her, but by the two civilian leaders. Two weeks of crash course bootcamp and combat drills later, they already had their first targets picked-out. Salty and ready, offensive operations began.

Initial operations went well. The first targets covered basic ambushes for Centurions to establish their perimeter defenses. When the patrols became more heavily armed, the militia changed targets and tactics. Eventually the Neath Militia graduated to taking out Cylon air defense assets. They launched deep strikes against Cylon refueling posts. Losses were minimal and things were going well until they got overzealous. From early April until the first week of July, the citizens of Neath put up what they thought was a valiant effort. Chief O'Malley had led a patrol out the last week of June to scout a suspected Cylon refueling base and instead discovered, in his estimation, something more valuable. It looked like the start of a mining operation. Mick Sheldon agreed to the strike while Lieutenant Vandenberg and Staff Sergeant Crowe disagreed - defenses were too heavy. Surprisingly, the strike against the operation came off with only one KIA and three wounded. However, the repercussions would prove disastrous.

The Downfall

That was the final straw for the Cylons. They had put up with the militia's raids for months, treating them like an annoying fly in their ointment. However, the strike against the mining encampment was it. Gathering what was nearly, at one estimate, a thousand Centurions, they swept the countryside in a straight line on July 5th. Moving with the air support of Cylon Raiders and anti-aircraft guns aimed at the terrain ahead, they intended to wipe this town from the surface of the planet. Initial reports came from a shocked patrol who had nearly been overrun before Marine Sergeant Christopher Richards (a later arrival to the town) ordered them to withdraw while he provided covering fire. With the Sergeant given up for dead, these men reported in and everyone mounted up. Entire families, trained or not, knew what was coming. Granddaughters carried rifles alongside grandfathers. Husbands and wives locked the doors to their homes for what they assumed to be the last time. The town of Neath had drawn their line in the sand. The outskirts of town and no further. The Marines urged everyone to evacuate. They were called cowards. Traitors. The doctrine of guerrilla warfare meant nothing to the citizens. It was their home. Their town. Their heritage for generations. Reluctantly, Vandenberg, Crowe, and their Marines moved to the front.


Three hours later, the first Centurions appeared on the road. Raiders came in low over the treetops and began strafing the militia positions. The citizens opened fire out of desperation and most of their rounds fell woefully short. Heavy Raiders landed more Centurions as the treelines turned silver as far as the eye could see. By this point, nobody could have any illusions. The wounded were piling up at the Adair Clinic - the decided medical facility for the defense. With hopeless odds facing them, Vandenberg got on the wireless and ordered everyone to fall back into the town. If anyone heard her, they didn't listen. Out of time and options, the Marines performed a fighting withdrawl from their positions and managed to get to the Adair Clinic. The husband and wife team refused to leave under any circumstances and that was it. The patients were just too unstable to move and the Adairs would not leave them to die. With nothing else they could do, the small Marine fireteam evacuated Neath to the northeast and disappeared into the woods. The whole operation was completed by the Cylons successfully sixteen hours later when they razed the town to the ground under orbital missile barrage while the Marines watched helplessly from a distant ridge.

Affected PCs

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