Chapter 71: Chapter 68: Operation Paperclip

Bermuda, the United States of America
May 1st, 1778

William Cockerill waited patiently in order to check in with the "Customs Officer" that was speaking with people in line. He was merely nineteen years old and had come straight from England, like all the immigrants currently awaiting in Bermuda. He was unsure why he couldn't just travel directly to New York City, where his letter of recommendation came from, but he had a hunch why he and his fellow Britishmen were treated differently than immigrants from France or Prussia. The island of Bermuda was home to the Continental Navy, or also known as the American Navy, and also had an impressive number of American soldiers strutting around the island. If he had to guess, the British were sent to Bermuda before being sent to North America as a show of force, and to ensure that Great Britain understood that Bermuda was well-defended and well-fortified. Not that Great Britain wanted another war, the British Lion had been bloodied and humiliated during the "American Rebellion."

He was here because he received an intriguing letter about two months prior. The letter was written by a man named "Samuel Kim," whose name was odd yet somewhat familiar. He introduced himself as an owner of an ironworks in New York City and asked for Cockerill to work under him. The American believed that he had immense talent and wanted the Englishman to design some machines for use in his ironworks and a factory he was planning to open within two years. Cockerill was going to be given a substantial pay a large bonus, and unlimited funding for any of his projects if he decided to accept the offer. Seeing that his career in England was lackluster both financially and career-wise, the British blacksmith accepted Samuel's offer and traveled across the Atlantic in order to search for a new opportunity in a foreign land. He had mixed feelings about coming to the land that his home country had been at war with just months earlier, but the promise of high pay and unlimited support for his projects put him at ease.

Finally, after waiting for about fifteen minutes, the line moved up and he was face to face with the "Customs Officer." The officer was sitting in a private booth and writing things down on a piece of parchment. He looked up at the man and smiled, "Welcome. What is your reason for immigration?"

"Work. I was offered a job in New York."

"I see," The officer replied as he scribbled a few words on a new parchment, "Do you have any letters of recommendation on you to verify this?"

"I do," Cockerill pulled out the letter from Samuel from his travel bag and handed it to the officer.

The officer read it for a few seconds before his eyes widened, "Ah, I see. You're planning to work with General Kim?"

"General?"

"He was the former leader of the Marines before he retired. I served under him for a long two years."

It was then that Cockerill realized that the man was in a military uniform (without a hat) and had a musket hidden in the corner of the booth, "I see. Well, is he a good man?"

"A great man. One of the best officers the world has ever seen, yet humble and caring. I heard from the others that his businesses are experiencing great success, so you'll be fine sir."

After asking a few more questions, several of them which Cockerill thought was odd ("Have you contracted any serious illnesses in the past month?" "Do you have any livestock or food items in the bag that you brought from England?"), he was cleared by the officer and handed his immigration papers, along with a small booklet, "These papers will verify your identity. You just need to show them to the Customs Officer once you board your ship to New York, and then show them again to an officer once you step onto the North American mainland. This booklet will have all information about the United States, from ports of entry to our current system of government. Welcome to the United States, sir. Next!"

As Cockerill wandered off, he saw that a Negro was next in line and was walking up to the booth that he stood in front of just moments earlier. He shrugged and walked back to the inn he was staying in the town of St. George. Since the ship to New York was expected to arrive in a week, he decided to go into a nearby tavern to drink and read the booklet he was given. He went inside, he found the tavern bustling with activity and discovered that other Britishmen were also drinking and chatting within the tavern. He sat down alone at a table, ordered some food and drinks, and opened the booklet. The very first page was the so-called "Constitution" of the United States, apparently the very highest form of law in the nation.

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America," Cockerill mumbled, "Certainly a mouthful."

He read through the book and was mystified at what he was processing. He had heard rumors that the United States was attempting a republican form of government, but the laws they had crafted and established were much more extensive than he imagined. He couldn't imagine this nation would last long without a strong central figure, like a king, but admittedly, it seemed like the Yankees made great efforts to create their republic.

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"The current "president" of the United States if George Washington, who has been placed as the head of the Continental Congress until the first elections are carried out on November 9th of 1779. As willed by the Constitution, male and female citizens (those that were living in the United States upon the ratification of the Constitution, which was ratified on August 9th of 1777) may vote in the General Election for the President and for Congress (the age requirement for men is twenty-five, while the requirement for women is thirty-five). All voting places across the United States will be determined before June of 1779 and citizens will be able to vote in the first elections provided they have proof that they have been living in the United States prior to the ratification. The right to vote will not be hindered by race, religion, belief, or sex, as prescribed in the Bill of Rights (the first Fourteen Amendments of the Constitution)."

"You're also reading that booklet too?" A Welsh accent called out behind Cockerill.

The Englishman turned to see a young man dressed in a large coat and trousers. Cockerill nodded slowly as he placed down the booklet, "I don't have much to do, so I decided to read the booklet they gave me."

"Same here," The Welshman said as he pulled out a booklet that looked exactly like the one that Cockerill had, "It's interesting as laws and politics go, but I've never been fond of politics."

"I've been using this to study about my future home for the next several years, depending on how things go."

"Pardon me for my rudeness, my name is Watkin George. I was an apprentice working at Cyfartha Ironworks." George said as he shook the man's hand.

"I'm William Cockerill. I was a blacksmith working in a small shop in England."

George stared at the table and the Englishman noticed that he was staring at the letter of recommendation that he placed next to his booklet, "Were you also invited by that Samuel fellow?"

"Yes. Were you?"

The former apprentice fumbled with a few things in his coat before pulling out a crumpled letter, "Yes. He sent me a letter three months ago through that John Adams fellow that was in Great Britain. Offered me a place at his ironworks. Apparently, his colleague invented a process to produce steel in mass quantities and I was intrigued so decided to come over."

Cockerill shrugged, "I was offered pay and a place to continue any of my projects."

"I thought you were a blacksmith?"

"I also designed machines in my free time."

"Interesting," George muttered, "Then perhaps you'll like to accompany me and work together once we're in New York? After all, we'll be working in the same ironworks my suspicions are correct. And I'm still relatively inexperienced despite my apprenticeship."

"Certainly. I was wondering how I would spend the next week on this island anyway," Cockerill replied, "But I'm interested in that steel-producing method you mentioned... Could the Americans have found a way to produce steel in mass quantities..."

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