A ~12,000 word narrative generated through several back and forths with Grok on the conditions in Dallas:
Initial Strikes and Immediate Effects: November 28, 1997
On November 28, 1997, a catastrophic series of nuclear strikes devastated Texas and Louisiana, fundamentally altering the region’s landscape and stability. The targets in Texas included: Carswell AFB in Fort Worth with a 500-kiloton detonation, Dyess AFB in Abilene absorbing a 500-kiloton blast, Randolph AFB in San Antonio struck by a 250-kiloton warhead, Baytown hit with a 2-megaton explosion, Port Arthur obliterated by a 3-megaton strike, Texas City suffering a 1.5-megaton detonation, Beaumont taking a 1.5-megaton hit, Houston enduring a 1.5-megaton blast, Deer Park receiving a 1.25-megaton strike, Robinson impacted by a 750-kiloton explosion, Corpus Christi devastated by a 1-megaton detonation, Lemont struck with a 750-kiloton warhead, Nederland hit by a 500-kiloton blast, Sweeney absorbing a 500-kiloton strike, Borger taking a 500-kiloton detonation, and El Paso suffering a 250-kiloton explosion. Shreveport’s Barksdale AFB, just across the Louisiana border, was targeted with a 250-kiloton warhead. The combined yield of these strikes surpassed 15 megatons, effectively annihilating Texas’s oil refining infrastructure and critical military installations. Concurrently, a high-altitude EMP burst unleashed a devastating electromagnetic pulse across the state, disabling the electrical grid and plunging approximately 20 million people into an unprecedented technological blackout.
The Carswell strike, centered 30 miles west of Dallas, eradicated Fort Worth’s military hub, claiming an estimated 75,000 lives within a 10-mile radius as buildings were leveled and fires raged unchecked. The blast’s 5-psi overpressure wave, capable of demolishing structures and shattering glass, dissipated beyond a radius of 10-12 miles, leaving Dallas’s physical infrastructure intact—no windows broke in the city proper, no buildings buckled under the shockwave. However, the blinding flash of the detonation and the towering mushroom cloud that followed were starkly visible from Dallas’s western suburbs, including Irving and Grand Prairie, sending waves of panic rippling through the city’s 1.1 million residents. Fallout from the strike, carried northeast by prevailing winds, blanketed Collin and Denton Counties with radiation levels ranging from 100 to 500 rads over the next 48 hours, posing a severe threat to those areas; Dallas itself, however, received a negligible dose of under 50 rads, avoiding immediate radiation sickness but amplifying fears of unseen contamination among its populace.
The Houston-area strikes—encompassing Baytown, Port Arthur, Texas City, Beaumont, and Deer Park—collectively resulted in approximately 600,000 deaths, vaporizing 80 square miles of industrial heartland critical to oil production and refining. The resulting fallout irradiated Interstate 10 eastward, severing southern escape routes and supply lines from the Gulf Coast, leaving Dallas increasingly isolated. Corpus Christi’s 1-megaton explosion demolished its port facilities, a vital artery for trade and fuel distribution; El Paso’s 250-kiloton strike disrupted western egress through New Mexico, effectively funneling any potential evacuation routes northward toward Oklahoma. In Dallas, the EMP’s instantaneous effects were profound and far-reaching: power grids failed across the city’s 340 square miles, telecommunications networks went silent as cell towers and landlines ceased functioning, and 95% of vehicles—reliant on electronic ignition systems—stalled where they stood, stranding commuters and emergency responders alike on major arteries like I-35E, Loop 12, and the Dallas North Tollway.
The Dallas Police Department, with a pre-strike strength of 2,700 officers, and Dallas Fire-Rescue, with 1,600 firefighters, faced a catastrophic collapse in operational capacity by November 29. An estimated 65% absenteeism rate struck both forces—1,755 police officers and 1,040 firefighters either fled with their families to escape the unfolding chaos or were unable to reach their stations due to the breakdown of transportation infrastructure. Mayor Ron Kirk, a seasoned leader known for his calm demeanor, declared a state of emergency at 7:00 PM, broadcasting the announcement via bullhorn from City Hall as radio stations fell silent, their backup generators either inoperative or quickly exhausted. With only 945 police officers and 560 firefighters remaining—a mere fraction of the city’s pre-strike emergency services—the ability to maintain order or respond to the escalating crisis was severely compromised, leaving Dallas vulnerable to the chaos that ensued.
Looting erupted across the city by 9:00 PM, targeting supermarkets, convenience stores, and retail outlets in a frantic scramble for supplies that signaled the rapid unraveling of social order. In Oak Cliff, the Tom Thumb grocery store on Westmoreland Road was stripped bare within hours, its shelves emptied of canned goods like soups and vegetables, bottled water, and batteries as residents and opportunists alike descended upon it. In North Dallas, the Albertsons on Forest Lane met a similar fate, with looters shattering glass doors with crowbars and shopping carts to seize whatever remained—flour, rice, and over-the-counter medications became prized commodities. Emerging criminal factions capitalized on the power vacuum: the “East Side Lords,” a gang rooted in the Pleasant Grove neighborhood, raided a Walmart Supercenter on Buckner Boulevard by midnight, killing 15 employees and shoppers in a violent grab for food, ammunition, and portable generators. Armed with knives, handguns, and makeshift weapons looted from the store’s sporting goods section, the gang’s swift and brutal action marked the beginning of a descent into lawlessness, setting the stage for the power struggles that would define Dallas’s future.
December 1997: Civil Authority Collapses and Initial Disaster Response
Civil governance in Dallas disintegrated within days of the nuclear strikes, as the city’s infrastructure and leadership buckled under the weight of unprecedented challenges. On November 29, Mayor Kirk imposed a dusk-to-dawn curfew, announced through loudspeakers mounted on the few operational police vehicles and a handful of surviving battery-powered radios operated by volunteers at City Hall. However, with only 945 police officers scattered across the city’s sprawling 340 square miles—equating to roughly one officer per 360 residents—enforcement was virtually impossible. On December 2, a riot erupted at a Kroger supermarket in Deep Ellum when 200 looters stormed the store to seize its last stocks of rice, pasta, and canned goods; police, outnumbered and outgunned, fired into the crowd after being overrun, killing 50 and wounding 30 in a desperate bid to regain control, but the incident only deepened public desperation and mistrust in the authorities.
The fire department, reduced to 560 personnel, struggled to contain fires sparked by overturned candles, gas leaks from ruptured lines, and makeshift heating attempts in the absence of electricity. On December 5, a gas explosion in a North Dallas apartment complex on Preston Road obliterated two buildings, killing 25 firefighters and 30 residents; the lack of functional water pumps rendered firefighting efforts futile, as hoses ran dry and hydrants sat useless. By December 20, uncontrolled blazes had consumed approximately 5% of downtown Dallas, including parts of the Arts District—where the Dallas Museum of Art’s facade was scorched—and the West End Historic District, leaving behind charred husks of once-vibrant cultural landmarks. Smoke hung heavy over the city, a constant reminder of its fragility as winter temperatures began to bite.
City Hall’s emergency fuel reserve, comprising 5,000 gallons of diesel and gasoline scavenged from municipal vehicles and nearby gas stations, was depleted by December 10, leaving police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances immobilized across the city. Governor George W. Bush, operating from Austin amidst the chaos, issued an activation order for the Texas National Guard on November 30, but the state’s premier unit, the 49th Armored Division, was unavailable. Comprising the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Brigades—all Texas National Guard—the 49th had been deployed in late 1997 for disaster relief and emergency security operations in northern Illinois and Indiana in response to earlier regional crises, possibly flooding or civil unrest. By November 28, it was dispersed across three locations: the 1st Brigade stationed at Fort McCoy, Wisconsin; the 2nd Brigade at Camp Atterbury, Indiana; and the 3rd Brigade, along with division headquarters, at Springfield, Illinois. This deployment left Texas without its primary Guard force during the critical initial response phase, forcing Dallas to rely on fragmented local resources and improvised measures.
In Dallas, local National Guard units managed to muster 150 troops equipped with 10 operational diesel Humvees by December 6, drawn from nearby armories such as Hensley Field in Grand Prairie. These units operated without centralized command from Austin, relying on ad-hoc orders from surviving officers who communicated via runners and handwritten notes due to the failure of radio systems. To bolster this meager force, basic training classes from Texas military installations were mobilized, though their deployment was chaotic and severely hampered by the EMP’s impact on logistics and communication. Fort Hood, located near Killeen approximately 130 miles south of Dallas, contributed 300 trainees from its basic combat training courses—primarily young infantry recruits with only weeks of experience—who arrived in Dallas by December 10 via a convoy of commandeered diesel buses scavenged from local depots. Tasked with securing food warehouses like the Sysco distribution center in Irving, these trainees faced immediate challenges, lacking the discipline and equipment to counter looters effectively.
Camp Bullis, situated near San Antonio—itself reeling from the Randolph AFB strike—sent 200 trainees, mostly medics and support personnel, who reached Dallas by December 15 after a grueling march north through hostile territory, avoiding irradiated zones along I-35. These recruits set up triage stations at Fair Park, utilizing the Cotton Bowl’s open spaces to treat the growing number of injured and sick, though their supplies of bandages and antibiotics were quickly exhausted. Camp Bowie, located in Brownwood 150 miles southwest of Dallas, dispatched 150 trainees—specializing in logistics and engineering—by December 12, traveling in horse-drawn carts salvaged from local ranches after their vehicles failed; they focused on repairing water pumps along the Trinity River, but most efforts faltered due to EMP-damaged electronics and a lack of replacement parts. Camp Wolters, near Mineral Wells just 50 miles west, provided 100 trainees—a mix of infantry and communications recruits—who arrived on December 8 after a forced march on foot, tasked with guarding Hensley Field alongside local Guard units to protect Lockheed Martin’s assets. Camp Fannin, a historical training site near Tyler, 100 miles east of Dallas, reactivated by the state pre-strike, sent 120 basic infantry trainees by December 18, moving via bicycles and a handful of scavenged diesel trucks; they reinforced checkpoints in East Dallas but were ill-equipped for sustained operations, armed only with M16 rifles and limited ammunition.
By December 15, approximately 250,000 Dallas residents—representing 23% of the pre-strike population—had fled north toward Oklahoma along I-35E, the only viable escape route as I-20 east to Shreveport and I-45 south to Houston were blocked by fallout zones and abandoned vehicles. This mass exodus left behind an estimated 60,000 cars and trucks, clogging highways, overpasses, and side streets with a metallic graveyard that hindered movement and emergency response efforts. Water distribution collapsed entirely on December 4 when electric pumps failed across the city; 85% of households turned to the Trinity River and White Rock Lake, hauling water in improvised containers like buckets, jerrycans, and plastic bins scavenged from hardware stores and garages. Untreated and contaminated by sewage overflow from non-functional treatment plants, this water source triggered a cholera outbreak that killed 2,500 by December 31, with the majority of deaths occurring in South Dallas, where pre-existing sanitation issues exacerbated the spread of disease among crowded tenements and makeshift shelters.
Mayor Kirk resigned on December 22, exhausted and vilified after a gang-led arson attack on City Hall by the newly formed “Trinity Reapers” killed 8 staff members and destroyed the building’s lower floors. The assailants, numbering around 50 and armed with Molotov cocktails looted from a liquor store on West Davis Street, torched the structure in a brazen display of defiance, signaling the rise of organized criminal factions exploiting the power vacuum left by the retreating civil authorities. Police numbers dwindled to 600 by the end of December, retreating to three fortified precincts in North Dallas (near Preston Road), Oak Lawn (on Cedar Springs), and East Dallas (near White Rock Lake), their patrols abandoned as fuel shortages and manpower losses rendered them ineffective against the growing tide of lawlessness. Gang activity surged with alarming speed: the “Trinity Reapers” coalesced in West Dallas by December 18, extorting food and water from 15,000 residents with scavenged firearms—pistols and shotguns looted from sporting goods stores like Bass Pro Shops—establishing a brutal regime of control; the “West End Crew” formed downtown, raiding abandoned high-rises such as the Bank of America Plaza and killing 25 squatters in a December 30 turf clash over control of the area’s remaining canned goods and bottled water, marking the beginning of a violent power struggle that would define the city’s descent.
January-May 1998: Limited Military Response and Gang Surge
With the 49th Armored Division absent in the Midwest, Dallas’s military response relied on a patchwork of depleted local National Guard units and hastily deployed training classes, but their efforts were woefully inadequate against the escalating chaos. Lockheed Martin’s Hensley Field plant, a critical Defense Industrial Base (DIB) site producing components for F-16 fighters, saw 100 local Guardsmen deployed on December 8, reinforced by 100 Camp Wolters trainees by December 10. Together, they seized 6,000 gallons of diesel from nearby gas stations—most already drained by looters—and by December 15, 30 civilian workers operated machinery on portable generators scavenged from construction sites across Grand Prairie. Production ceased within days, however, as supply chains from the irradiated Gulf Coast were severed, leaving the facility a symbolic stronghold rather than a functional asset. The Dallas Naval Air Station, holding munitions and spare parts, had 20 local Guardsmen and 50 Fort Hood trainees deployed by December 12, securing its 600 acres with makeshift barricades constructed from wrecked cars and sandbags pilfered from abandoned hardware stores.
Resource control efforts were minimal but fiercely contested. On December 15, a combined force of 15 Guardsmen and 20 Camp Bowie trainees established checkpoints along the Trinity River near downtown, reserving 600 gallons of water daily for military use—enough to sustain their small contingent but leaving civilians desperate and resentful. On December 20, a group of 50 residents attempting to draw water from the river clashed with the guards, resulting in 15 civilian deaths and 3 wounded soldiers, an incident that further eroded any semblance of trust in military authority and fueled growing hostility among the populace. A December 25 raid on a Sysco warehouse in Irving, led by 50 Fort Hood trainees and 20 Guardsmen, netted 10 tons of canned goods—primarily beans, tuna, and corn—but cost 7 troops in a brutal ambush by the “Trinity Reapers,” who had fortified the area with stolen police rifles and barricades of overturned delivery trucks, demonstrating their growing tactical sophistication.
The combined troop strength in Dallas eroded rapidly, falling to 80 local Guardsmen and 200 trainees by February 20, 1998—comprising 100 from Fort Hood, 50 from Camp Bullis, 30 from Camp Wolters, and 20 from Camp Fannin—due to desertions and combat losses. Soldiers fled with their families to join the northward exodus or defected to emerging gangs offering food and protection; a February 5 firefight in Oak Lawn with the “East Side Lords” left 20 dead, including 8 Guardsmen and 5 trainees, as gang members armed with looted shotguns and Molotov cocktails overwhelmed a checkpoint near Turtle Creek. Martial law was declared on February 10, but without reinforcements and with the 49th still deployed in the Midwest, it applied only to Hensley Field and the Naval Air Station, leaving the broader city’s 340 square miles effectively lawless. The training classes, lacking combat experience and heavy equipment, proved ill-suited for sustained operations; by March, most had either deserted—approximately 100 joined local survival groups—or been killed or absorbed into the chaos, their initial contributions limited to short-term security and resource grabs that failed to stem the tide of collapse.
Dallas’s population dropped to 700,000 by March 1998: 250,000 fled north toward Oklahoma, navigating treacherous roads littered with abandoned vehicles and fallout zones, while 150,000 succumbed to starvation (65%), disease (25%), and violence (10%) in the first three months. Food stocks across the city vanished by January 15, as supermarkets, warehouses, and homes were stripped bare; a January 25 riot at a Costco in Garland killed 75 over 4 tons of rice and flour, with looters trampling each other in a desperate frenzy that left bodies strewn across the parking lot. Transportation ground to a complete halt—99% of vehicles, reliant on electronic systems knocked out by the EMP, remained inoperable, leaving streets like Mockingbird Lane and Harry Hines Boulevard choked with abandoned cars, their engines silent and gas tanks siphoned dry by scavengers. Waterborne diseases such as cholera and typhoid, fueled by the reliance on untreated river and lake water, claimed 40,000 lives by May, with 25,000 deaths concentrated in South Dallas and Pleasant Grove, where overcrowding in makeshift shelters and poor sanitation accelerated the spread among vulnerable populations.
Gangs solidified their grip on Dallas’s fractured society, exploiting the absence of effective military or civil resistance. The “Trinity Reapers” swelled to 20,000 members by April, taxing West Dallas residents with a brutal system—demanding food or death—enforced by a cadre of 200 armed enforcers wielding looted handguns, shotguns, and baseball bats scavenged from sporting goods stores and pawn shops. The “East Side Lords,” numbering 15,000, established control over Pleasant Grove, clashing with the “South Side Vipers,” a gang of 12,000 that fought for dominance over Fair Park’s dwindling resources; daily death tolls averaged 100 through May, with 70% tied to gang turf wars over food caches, water access, and scavenging territories. Police numbers shrank to 300 by April, barricaded in a single precinct on Lemmon Avenue in Oak Lawn, their patrols abandoned as officers faced relentless ambushes—10 died in a March 15 attack by the “West End Crew,” who used looted police batons and knives to overrun a checkpoint near the Dallas Zoo. Firefighters, reduced to 200, lost 20% of Oak Cliff to uncontrolled fires by May 15, unable to reach blazes with no functioning engines or fuel, leaving neighborhoods like Five Mile Creek a smoldering ruin.
Highland Park’s 4,000 wealthy residents, leveraging their pre-strike resources, hired 30 ex-police officers as private security, fortifying their 2-square-mile enclave with scavenged barbed wire, concrete barriers, and stockpiled supplies from nearby estates. This affluent island of order stood in stark contrast to the surrounding chaos, its residents armed with personal firearms and guarded by makeshift watchtowers constructed from dismantled playground equipment and roofing materials, a rare bastion amid the city’s descent into anarchy.
Mexican and Soviet Invasion: June 2, 1998
On June 2, 1998, Mexico, in alliance with the Soviet “Division Cuba,” launched a full-scale invasion of the U.S. Southwest, exploiting the nuclear devastation that had left America’s defenses in disarray. Mexican forces, numbering approximately 50,000 troops, crossed the border at El Paso—already crippled by its 250-kiloton strike—and swiftly seized Laredo and Del Rio by June 25, utilizing a mix of infantry, light armored vehicles, and logistical support drawn from northern Mexico’s military bases. Division Cuba, a Soviet expeditionary force of 15,000 equipped with T-72 tanks, BMP infantry fighting vehicles, and artillery, advanced from Brownsville along the Rio Grande, targeting central Texas with the strategic aim of securing key highways like I-35 and fertile farmland to sustain their occupation. San Antonio fell on July 10 after a week-long siege, overwhelmed by a combined assault of Mexican infantry and Cuban armor that shattered the city’s remaining defenses; Austin followed on August 10 after a bloody urban battle that killed an estimated 10,000 defenders, including scattered National Guard units, local police, and civilian militias armed with hunting rifles and improvised explosives.
A decisive blow to Texas’s governance struck on July 3, when a Spetsnaz company—elite Soviet special forces attached to Division Cuba—raided Crawford, Texas, 90 miles south of Dallas. Governor George W. Bush and his staff, holed up in a ranch compound for an emergency meeting to coordinate a state response, were assassinated in a precision strike. The Spetsnaz team, numbering around 120 operatives armed with AK-74 rifles, RPG-7 launchers, and plastic explosives, infiltrated under cover of darkness at dawn, killing Bush, 15 staff members, and 4 Texas Ranger bodyguards in a 20-minute firefight before withdrawing south to rejoin Division Cuba’s main force. By July 5, Texas’s state government ceased to function entirely—no legislature convened in the shattered capitol, no executive orders were issued from Austin, and no coordination remained for the state’s fragmented National Guard units, leaving local authorities and communities to fend for themselves.
Dallas, positioned 200 miles north of the invasion’s front lines, faced no direct attack from Mexican or Soviet forces, but the collapse of state government severed its last ties to organized support, plunging the city deeper into isolation and anarchy. The population dropped to 600,000 by August: 50,000 fled north toward Oklahoma, navigating a perilous journey through fallout zones and bandit-controlled roads, while another 50,000 succumbed to starvation, disease, and escalating violence in the months following the invasion. Gangs thrived in the power vacuum, their influence growing unchecked by any semblance of state or federal authority. The “Trinity Reapers” expanded their raids into Irving, killing 70 in a July 15 clash with a rival faction over a looted pharmacy stockpile of antibiotics, painkillers, and rubbing alcohol—rare commodities in a city devoid of medical infrastructure. The “Circuit Kings,” a tech-savvy gang of 10,000 formed from ex-Texas Instruments workers and scavenging opportunists, seized Love Field on August 1, establishing a toll system for scavengers—50 pounds of food or 10 bullets per entry—enforced by 150 armed guards wielding scavenged rifles, crowbars, and improvised spears crafted from broken machinery.
Violence peaked at 130 deaths per day in July, with 75% attributed to gang conflicts as factions battled for control of water sources, food caches, and scavenging rights across Dallas’s sprawling suburbs and urban core. The “East Side Lords” solidified their hold on Pleasant Grove, executing 20 dissenters in a public display on Buckner Boulevard to enforce compliance, while the “South Side Vipers” clashed with smaller gangs in Fair Park, leaving 30 dead in an August 10 firefight over a looted Red Cross stash of blankets and canned soup. The absence of state coordination left Dallas’s remaining residents defenseless against these internal threats, accelerating the city’s descent into a fragmented, gang-dominated wasteland.
49th Armored Division’s Return and Other Divisions’ Impact on Dallas: Autumn 1998
The 49th Armored Division, a Texas National Guard unit comprising the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Brigades, had been deployed in late 1997 for disaster relief and security in northern Illinois and Indiana, stationed across Fort McCoy, Wisconsin; Camp Atterbury, Indiana; and Springfield, Illinois. Following Mexico’s invasion in June 1998, it mobilized south, reaching Fort Sill, Oklahoma, by September 1998 at 60% of its Table of Organization and Equipment (TO&E) strength. A full-strength armored division typically comprises 10,000-15,000 troops and 200-300 tanks; at 60%, the 49th arrived with approximately 6,000-9,000 effectives and 120-180 armored vehicles, including M60s and early M1s, plus support units. Transit losses—around 500 troops and 20 vehicles to marauder attacks and mechanical failures—reduced it to 6,000 troops and 100 vehicles (50 tanks, 50 support) by October under the 90th Corps.
On October 25, 1998, a detachment of the 49th entered Dallas with 1,000 troops and 50 vehicles—mostly diesel Humvees and M113 armored personnel carriers spared by the EMP—tasked with securing Hensley Field against potential Mexican and Soviet probes and stabilizing the city’s spiraling chaos. The division deployed 250 soldiers to Lockheed Martin’s plant, reinforcing the 50 remaining local Guardsmen and 30 Camp Wolters trainees who had held the site against gang incursions since December 1997. On November 10, a raid targeted a “Trinity Reapers” silo near Love Field, reclaiming 8 tons of grain—mostly corn and rice—after a fierce firefight that killed 25 gang members and cost 20 49th troops, including 5 from a tank support unit overwhelmed by Molotov cocktails and sniper fire from adjacent rooftops. Throughout November, the detachment faced sporadic engagements along I-35E, losing 40 soldiers to ambushes by Mexican scouts probing north from Austin and vanguard units of Division Cuba moving up from Waco, equipped with Soviet-supplied RPGs and small arms.
The 49th’s presence in Dallas briefly disrupted gang operations. A November 20 patrol in Oak Cliff, supported by 10 Camp Fannin trainees, dispersed a “South Side Vipers” roadblock near Kiest Boulevard, killing 15 gang members and seizing 500 pounds of scavenged food—canned vegetables and dried beans—which was distributed to 200 desperate families near Fair Park, providing a fleeting respite from starvation. On November 25, a joint operation with 20 Camp Bullis medics established a temporary aid station at Fair Park, treating 300 residents for malnutrition and cholera before supplies ran out three days later. However, with no state government to coordinate efforts and Mexico/Soviet forces entrenched south of Dallas, the Pentagon ordered the division to withdraw north to bolster Oklahoma’s defenses. On December 20, 1998, the Dallas detachment of 800 troops evacuated, rejoining the main force at Fort Sill with 1,200 gallons of diesel—scavenged from abandoned tanker trucks—and Lockheed Martin personnel. Within 72 hours, by December 23, gangs including the “Trinity Reapers” and “Circuit Kings” overran Hensley Field, looting machinery, fuel remnants, and spare parts, erasing the 49th’s temporary stabilizing influence.
The 85th Infantry Division, formed on July 20, 1998, in Chicago from the 85th Training Division, had no direct impact on Dallas. Its operations were confined to western Louisiana and later eastern Texas, far from the city. The 95th Infantry Division, formed on the same date in Livonia, Michigan, from the 95th Training Division, arrived at Fort Chaffee, Arkansas, by November 1, 1998, under 90th Corps but focused on northern Texas and southern Oklahoma, never deploying to Dallas. The 98th Infantry Division, redesignated on July 20, 1998, in Midwest City, Oklahoma, from the 98th Training Division, operated in southern Oklahoma and northern Texas, clashing with Mexican forces by September 17, 1998, but its activities remained north of Dallas, with no units entering the city. The 46th Infantry Division, formed on March 17, 1997, at Camp Blanding, Florida, dispersed across eastern Texas in spring 1998 for anti-riot duties; while some elements operated near Dallas’s periphery (e.g., Tyler), no significant forces engaged within the city, and it reformed in Colorado by fall 1998. Thus, beyond the 49th’s brief 1998 intervention, no other division directly influenced Dallas’s trajectory during this period.
Post-Withdrawal: December 1998-December 2000
Following the 49th’s withdrawal, Dallas’s population plummeted to 300,000 by March 1999: 200,000 had fled north by late 1998, driven by starvation and violence, while 200,000 died in the first year post-strike—70% from starvation as food stocks evaporated, 20% from diseases like cholera and dysentery, and 10% from violence as gangs consolidated power. By December 2000, the population crashed further to 100,000, with an additional 150,000 deaths over two years: 50% from famine as scavenging yields dwindled, 30% from disease exacerbated by malnutrition and unsanitary conditions, and 20% from gang wars that intensified over shrinking resources. This left just 9% of the original 1.1 million residents, a stark testament to the city’s collapse.
With no external food or fuel deliveries—cut off by Gulf Coast destruction and Mexico’s control of southern Texas—survivors turned to desperate subsistence measures. Gardening emerged on 8,000 acres of yards, parks, and vacant lots by mid-1999, producing corn, beans, and squash to feed 15,000 at a meager 1,500 calories per day; by 2000, this shrank to 6,000 acres and 12,000 fed as soil exhaustion and lack of seeds took their toll. Scavenging, accounting for 20% of diets in 1999, dropped to 15% by 2000 as suburbs like Richardson and Garland were stripped bare—survivors resorted to eating expired goods and pet food from abandoned homes. Fishing the Trinity River, once providing 5% of food needs, fell to 3% by 2000, with stocks depleted by 95% from overharvesting, leaving only small, bony fish for riverside camps.
Gangs consolidated their dominance over Dallas’s remnants, their numbers shrinking with the population but retaining control over survivors. The “Trinity Reapers” fell to 15,000 by 2000, taxing West Dallas with 200 enforcers armed with looted shotguns and machetes, their stronghold a fortified maze of wrecked cars near the Trinity levees. The “East Side Lords,” reduced to 10,000, ruled Pleasant Grove, enforcing a 5-gallon weekly water toll with 150 enforcers—executions for non-compliance dropped from 50 in 1999 to 20 in 2000 as fewer resisted. The “Circuit Kings” shrank to 8,000, holding North Dallas and Love Field with 100 guards trading scavenged tech; clashes with the “South Side Vipers” (5,000) over Fair Park killed 20 in a November 2000 raid. Fifteen smaller factions, totaling 30,000, controlled 60,000 residents, taxing 85% of resources with brutal efficiency.
Water, with no purification systems, came 90% from the Trinity River, hauled in buckets and scavenged jugs; contamination sickened 80% annually, with typhoid and cholera killing 20,000 yearly—10,000 in South Dallas in 2000 alone. Transport relied on 2,000 bicycles and 200 horses by 2000, down from 3,500 and 350 as starvation claimed animals and raiders stole bikes. Downtown’s Dealey Plaza market traded bullets at 15 per pound of flour, with 500 daily transactions guarded by “West End Crew” enforcers (3,000) taking a 20% cut—violence enforced compliance, with 5 executions weekly for non-payers.
Violence peaked at 50 deaths per day in 1999, dropping to 15 by 2000 as resources stabilized at a subsistence level; gang wars accounted for 70%, with 5 daily deaths over Trinity fishing rights. Co-ops—200 groups of 50-100—grew 20% of food by 2000, losing 30 to a November 1999 “West End Crew” raid but killing 20 raiders in retaliation, securing fragile truces in Lake Highlands and Oak Lawn.
Conditions on January 1, 2001
On January 1, 2001, Dallas’s population stands at 100,000—9% of its 1997 level of 1.1 million—reflecting a brutal toll: 450,000 fled by late 1998, and 550,000 died over three years from starvation (50%), disease (30%), and violence (20%). No civil or state authority remains; 15 gangs control 70,000, taxing 85% of resources with 1,000 enforcers, while 100 co-ops sustain 30,000. Gangs—“Trinity Reapers” (15,000), “East Side Lords” (10,000), “Circuit Kings” (8,000)—dominate West Dallas, Pleasant Grove, and North Dallas, respectively, using fortified strongholds.
Food and Resources: Gardening on 6,000 acres yields 9 billion calories—feeding 12,000 at 2,000 calories/day with corn, beans, and squash; scavenging (15%) yields expired canned goods—soups, fruits—from suburbs; fishing (3%) provides bony fish from a 95%-depleted Trinity. Water, 90% river-sourced, causes 80% illness; 5,000 die yearly from typhoid and cholera, with survivors boiling water over scavenged wood fires.
Housing: 40% of pre-strike housing (440,000 of 1.1 million units) is intact—unheated shells with leaking roofs, broken windows, and no utilities; 60% are ruins or tents, housing survivors in squats and camps across downtown and South Dallas.
Roads and Bridges: Major roads—I-35E, I-30, Loop 12—are intact but clogged with 50,000 abandoned vehicles, passable only by foot or bicycle; bridges like Margaret Hunt Hill and Trinity River crossings remain intact but contested by gangs, with makeshift tolls (5 bullets) enforced by “Trinity Reapers” at key crossings.
Industry and Economic Activity: No formal industry survives; scavenging and bartering dominate. Dealey Plaza’s market trades 1 bullet for 15 pounds of corn, with 500 daily transactions guarded by gangs; co-ops produce 15% of food and craft tools (knives, nets) from scrap. A small “bone trade” emerges—horse and dog bones boiled for broth or ground into meal—yielding 2% of calories.
Other Conditions: Feral dogs (5,000) roam, preying on corpses and weak survivors; the Trinity River is a muddy trickle, overfished and polluted with sewage and industrial runoff. White Rock Lake, once a water source, is a stagnant swamp, breeding mosquitoes that spread malaria (500 cases in 2000). Violence kills 10 daily; disease, 15. The 49th (1,200 troops, 5 tanks), 95th (4,000, 3 M60A4s), and others, 100 miles north or beyond, have no impact. Mexico and Division Cuba hold southern Texas, isolating Dallas in a gang-ruled wasteland.
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