Wheatley's Messages
Via: NBC - Revolution - FOOTNOTES
May 7th
To Major Daniel Christensen, Monroe Militia I&I
My name is Joseph Wheatley. I am - I was - a corporal in the Militia, stationed with the 4th Battalion at the Holtwood crossing encampment west of Philadelphia. I volunteered for service before the Trenton campaign, I've been in since the beginning. I was being trained as a forward scout, since I'm from this area and I'm familiar with the terrain. As you must already know, on the night of May 27th, a group of us were sent out to recon a tent village that had sprung up outside of New Holland. We approached from the foothills to the south, figuring we'd have the advantage of high ground, but the odds were against us - Rebel lookouts were waiting in the trees. We tried to retreat to the east, but ran right into the tents. There were six of us, but dozens of them. A minute later, five of us were dead. In the chaos and the dark of the woods, I saw an opportunity and I took it - I ran. I found new clothes, and the next day, a Rebel patrol found me on the side of a country road. They picked me up, took me in, as if I was just some poor farmer with an axe to grind with General Monroe. And in the past few days, I seem to have earned their trust.
I intend to break that trust. How should I proceed? To reply, leave a message in the mailbox of the burned-down house at 1424 Apple Lane.
- Cpl. Joseph Wheatley
August 10th
I can only send these messages when I'm sent out to hunt by myself, and at great personal risk, so I hope that this is the last one. Below is an inventory of Rebel-held supplies:
- At least 5 semi-automatic assault rifles, varying makes
- Over 150 shells and cartridges, misc. calibers
- 3 grenades
- Assortment of crossbows and compound bows, arrows and swords to equip 40
- 23 men and women of fighting age and disposition
- Another 30 or so civilians who hang around the camp
- Various medical supplies (bandages, scalpels, syringes and manual IV pumps), including some stolen from Militia camps
The one thing the Rebels don't have is food. Every few weeks, they have to split up and head to neighboring cities to find sympathizers who will share their stores. I went with the last group, had to watch while hard-earned crops were handed over to people who are terrorists, plain and simple. You give them food, they're going to return the favor with a knife to your gut.
Here's the rub - on August 19th, they're going out for another one of these food grabs. But this time, they're really desperate. They'll leave most of their weapons behind, so they can move faster and carry more. Their camp will be virtually unprotected. Wouldn't take more than a dozen trained soldiers to take it. Then you lay in wait for the rest to come back in small groups.
It's an opportunity that won't likely come again. A bet worth taking. Within a day or two, you could kill every last person in the cell. And I can come back into the fold.
- Joseph Wheatley
October 15th
You messed up. It may not be respectful to say, but you did. I put my neck out for you, and you nearly let it get chopped off - you messed up.
All of the intelligence I had on them is near-worthless. Most of the cell moved on, off to raid Militia depots and towns, to kill our soldiers and take from us. They're always taking, food and water and ammo and drugs and - they think it's theirs and I can't tell you how much you messed up.
As I sat there, waiting for soldiers to come and torch this bug-ridden hellhole, I realized something. You must not trust me. You must believe I've been turned, and it makes me sick inside to think that, because you don't know how far from the truth it is. I volunteered. I volunteered, and every night I go to bed and every morning I wake up wishing that somebody would just listen to me and come in and paint this whole place red.
Please. They deserve it.
You can't win if you don't play the game.
- Joseph Wheatley
March 3rd
I sewed up a flag today. A bright, spangled red, white and blue. The last item on a long list of the gut-turning things I've had to do to stay here. Cover yourself with enough flies and you'll fit in with the pigs.
Last week, they promoted me. I'm a sergeant in their little crackerjack operation. I'm a higher rank in the rebellion than I ever was in the Militia. The voice in the back of my head says that'll change when something comes of this assignment, but what if I'm found out before then? Your inaction is already costing lives. I don't want mine to be one of them.
- Wheatley
May 23rd
I raided a Militia armory. Took a dozen hand guns and a few boxes of bullets. That's a dozen dead innocent soldiers. I can't say no or I'll be hung.
7 rifles. 300 bullets.
28 men and women of fighting age.
More civilians on their side every day. Your inaction is making it worse.
- Sgt. Wheatley
September 15th
To whoever -
I fought back when our camp was raided. I knew the Militia force would lose. They were outnumbered 3 to 1. What was the point? You can't do that, you knew you'd fail, and if I'd turned my gun on the men at my side, I'd be dead, too.
You don't understand what this is doing to me. I helped them raid a supply wagon. Stole bread from the mouths of our people. I helped them torture a captured scout - he could have recognized me, and I helped them cut him open.
And that's not the worst thing I've done. I killed one of my Militia brothers the day I came into camp. There were two of us that survived the ambush in the foothills. Together, we'd never have survived. They were closing in all around us. So I left him and ran into the brush. When the Rebels found him, I stabbed him. In cold blood. Told them the Militia squad was looking for me, since I was AWOL and trying to defect. They trusted me because I had just as much Militia blood on my hands as they did. And I lied to you because - I'm not sure why. But you have to know that it's been tearing away at me, and now all of these other things...
What you have to know - if you're waiting for the Rebels to give up, you'll be waiting forever. Maggots don't give up. They just keep eating.
- One of the maggots.
November 19th
Miles Matheson is here. I knew his face the minute he walked into camp. You may want me to stay inside, keep feeding information, but this time the dice is in my hands, and I'm rolling it. I'm escorting him through the SEPTA tunnels and into Philadelphia. I'll make sure the rest of the Rebels don't make it.
If nothing else, we now know it's November in Revolution. If Kripke and the Footnotes people actually talked about details this time XD
May 7th
To Major Daniel Christensen, Monroe Militia I&I
My name is Joseph Wheatley. I am - I was - a corporal in the Militia, stationed with the 4th Battalion at the Holtwood crossing encampment west of Philadelphia. I volunteered for service before the Trenton campaign, I've been in since the beginning. I was being trained as a forward scout, since I'm from this area and I'm familiar with the terrain. As you must already know, on the night of May 27th, a group of us were sent out to recon a tent village that had sprung up outside of New Holland. We approached from the foothills to the south, figuring we'd have the advantage of high ground, but the odds were against us - Rebel lookouts were waiting in the trees. We tried to retreat to the east, but ran right into the tents. There were six of us, but dozens of them. A minute later, five of us were dead. In the chaos and the dark of the woods, I saw an opportunity and I took it - I ran. I found new clothes, and the next day, a Rebel patrol found me on the side of a country road. They picked me up, took me in, as if I was just some poor farmer with an axe to grind with General Monroe. And in the past few days, I seem to have earned their trust.
I intend to break that trust. How should I proceed? To reply, leave a message in the mailbox of the burned-down house at 1424 Apple Lane.
- Cpl. Joseph Wheatley
August 10th
I can only send these messages when I'm sent out to hunt by myself, and at great personal risk, so I hope that this is the last one. Below is an inventory of Rebel-held supplies:
- At least 5 semi-automatic assault rifles, varying makes
- Over 150 shells and cartridges, misc. calibers
- 3 grenades
- Assortment of crossbows and compound bows, arrows and swords to equip 40
- 23 men and women of fighting age and disposition
- Another 30 or so civilians who hang around the camp
- Various medical supplies (bandages, scalpels, syringes and manual IV pumps), including some stolen from Militia camps
The one thing the Rebels don't have is food. Every few weeks, they have to split up and head to neighboring cities to find sympathizers who will share their stores. I went with the last group, had to watch while hard-earned crops were handed over to people who are terrorists, plain and simple. You give them food, they're going to return the favor with a knife to your gut.
Here's the rub - on August 19th, they're going out for another one of these food grabs. But this time, they're really desperate. They'll leave most of their weapons behind, so they can move faster and carry more. Their camp will be virtually unprotected. Wouldn't take more than a dozen trained soldiers to take it. Then you lay in wait for the rest to come back in small groups.
It's an opportunity that won't likely come again. A bet worth taking. Within a day or two, you could kill every last person in the cell. And I can come back into the fold.
- Joseph Wheatley
October 15th
You messed up. It may not be respectful to say, but you did. I put my neck out for you, and you nearly let it get chopped off - you messed up.
All of the intelligence I had on them is near-worthless. Most of the cell moved on, off to raid Militia depots and towns, to kill our soldiers and take from us. They're always taking, food and water and ammo and drugs and - they think it's theirs and I can't tell you how much you messed up.
As I sat there, waiting for soldiers to come and torch this bug-ridden hellhole, I realized something. You must not trust me. You must believe I've been turned, and it makes me sick inside to think that, because you don't know how far from the truth it is. I volunteered. I volunteered, and every night I go to bed and every morning I wake up wishing that somebody would just listen to me and come in and paint this whole place red.
Please. They deserve it.
You can't win if you don't play the game.
- Joseph Wheatley
March 3rd
I sewed up a flag today. A bright, spangled red, white and blue. The last item on a long list of the gut-turning things I've had to do to stay here. Cover yourself with enough flies and you'll fit in with the pigs.
Last week, they promoted me. I'm a sergeant in their little crackerjack operation. I'm a higher rank in the rebellion than I ever was in the Militia. The voice in the back of my head says that'll change when something comes of this assignment, but what if I'm found out before then? Your inaction is already costing lives. I don't want mine to be one of them.
- Wheatley
May 23rd
I raided a Militia armory. Took a dozen hand guns and a few boxes of bullets. That's a dozen dead innocent soldiers. I can't say no or I'll be hung.
7 rifles. 300 bullets.
28 men and women of fighting age.
More civilians on their side every day. Your inaction is making it worse.
- Sgt. Wheatley
September 15th
To whoever -
I fought back when our camp was raided. I knew the Militia force would lose. They were outnumbered 3 to 1. What was the point? You can't do that, you knew you'd fail, and if I'd turned my gun on the men at my side, I'd be dead, too.
You don't understand what this is doing to me. I helped them raid a supply wagon. Stole bread from the mouths of our people. I helped them torture a captured scout - he could have recognized me, and I helped them cut him open.
And that's not the worst thing I've done. I killed one of my Militia brothers the day I came into camp. There were two of us that survived the ambush in the foothills. Together, we'd never have survived. They were closing in all around us. So I left him and ran into the brush. When the Rebels found him, I stabbed him. In cold blood. Told them the Militia squad was looking for me, since I was AWOL and trying to defect. They trusted me because I had just as much Militia blood on my hands as they did. And I lied to you because - I'm not sure why. But you have to know that it's been tearing away at me, and now all of these other things...
What you have to know - if you're waiting for the Rebels to give up, you'll be waiting forever. Maggots don't give up. They just keep eating.
- One of the maggots.
November 19th
Miles Matheson is here. I knew his face the minute he walked into camp. You may want me to stay inside, keep feeding information, but this time the dice is in my hands, and I'm rolling it. I'm escorting him through the SEPTA tunnels and into Philadelphia. I'll make sure the rest of the Rebels don't make it.
If nothing else, we now know it's November in Revolution. If Kripke and the Footnotes people actually talked about details this time XD