Richard Schiver

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  • Following in their Footsteps.

    Following in their Footsteps.

    Operation Market Garden 34 Years Later

    In 1978, at nineteen years of age I was serving with the United States Army as an armor crewman. In 1977 the motion picture, A Bridge Too Far, was released and featured a star-studded cast. I along with a couple of my friends watched it at the base theater in Fort Hood, Texas. The following year our unit was slated to take our six month turn at the tip of the spear at the U.S Army’s heavy metal playground in Grafenwoehr, West Germany. Located 21 miles from the Czech Republic border, a member nation of the Warsaw Pact. 21 miles from a border of concrete and barbed wire constructed to keep their citizens from escaping the harsh life of a communist regime. Our only goal, our sole purpose was to halt any soviet advance that might push across the border. As such each of our tanks carried a full load (67 rounds) of what we referred to as service ammunition. It was a mix heavy on armor piercing and HEAT (High Explosive Anti Tank) rounds, designed to slice through enemy armor.

    In Graf, we lived in Quonset huts that featured a large open bay filled with beds and footlockers. It was where we stayed when we weren’t working on our tanks in the motor pool, or out on maneuvers with other units preparing for a day all of us feared. Many a night I would lie in bed worried if I had what it would take to face our adversary. Thankfully that day never came. We also had most weekends off allowing us a chance to blow off some steam.

    Germany is a small country, a little larger than the state of Oregon, and aside from the autobahn, the railroads are a prime means of transportation. You can go practically anywhere on the European continent with a train ride. Which is how a small group of us ended up in the Netherlands, following a route carved into history, and featured in a recent movie we had all watched. What I’m referring to is the primary route followed by the ground forces in Operation Market Garden, one of the most disastrous allied operations during the war.

    In short the operation’s purpose was to open a path into the interior of Germany to outflank the Siegfried Line. The operation used elements from the British First Airborne Division, the Polish 1st Parachute Brigade the 82nd and 101st U.S Airborne Divisions. Their task was to secure and hold the bridges until 30th Corp could relieve them. This would have opened a direct route into the heartland of Germany if it succeeded. Possibly shortening the war. But it didn’t work out that way.

    It’s been forty-seven years since I walked that route, and while much of what I remember from that day has faded into the mists of time, the emotions are still very strong. I recently watched A Bridge Too Far, again, as I recover from knee surgery and those emotions are as powerful today as they were then.

    At the time of our little walk, thirty-four years after it happened, I don’t believe we really understood how deep that river ran through us. I can recall feeling a sense of walking upon hallowed ground, what one might feel at Arlington. Our usual jack assery settled as we were filled with a sense of walking among the honored dead who gave their all for what they believed in. Yet when your nineteen and with your friends it’s nearly impossible to fully explore your emotions of the moment. As such the respect of silence was all we could offer.  

    Every year, on the anniversary of the operation, a memorial walk is held, and I’d give anything to follow once again in the footsteps of those who went before, while I still have time. Only this time not as a young man struggling to figure out life. But as an older, wiser man who understands the full measure of devotion needed to throw oneself against such odds.

    They were called the greatest generation, and their numbers dwindle everyday. It falls to us then to carry their stories forward for a new generation to maybe learn from.

    Follow the link below for some amazing then and now photos from Arnhem.

    War History Online

  • Navigating Life’s Paths: From Military to Author

    I grew up during the space race of the sixties. While the war in Vietnam raged my eyes turned to what waited for us beyond the earth’s atmosphere. I was a big fan of Star Trek, catching every new episode when it aired. I followed the moon landing like a religious zealot updating their progress daily as the they traveled to our closest neighbor. My father understood my obsession and on the night the video feed was broadcast live of Neil Armstrong stepping onto the surface of the moon, my father woke me up so we could watch it together.

    My goal in life was to work for NASA, to be involved in some way with the space program. I had the smarts, but for me school was boring. I had been offered a four-year scholarship to the University of Maryland, that I turned down. I wanted to see the world so I joined the military with the intention of learning how to work on missiles, a skill set I believed would put me on a path to NASA.

    Unfortunately, between the moon walk and my graduation from high school, my father became quite ill. He had type 1 diabetes. He always tried taking better care of himself but as was the case with this disease, no matter how hard you tried, it eventually got you. I had spoken to the recruiter about working on missiles, and was scheduled to report to basic in Fort Bliss, Texas for my training. With my dad not working because of his health I chose to go into combat arms, armor to be exact, for the enlistment bonus that would help save our home. Sadly, my dad passed eight months after I joined, and we lost our home a year later.

    While serving I had plenty of time to read, my tastes running to the more macabre as I devoured works by authors like Lovecraft, Richard Matheson, Graham Masterton, William Peter Blatty, to name a few.

    Would I do it differently if I had the chance. I doubt it. I enjoyed my time in the military, the friends I made, the places I saw, the brotherhood I became a part of. It became a big part of who I grew up to become. Who I am now. I know there are many different paths I could have taken to follow my dream, but a new dream emerged for me, one I played around with when I was in high school, and that is to write about the things I love.

    I still dream of going into space. I’ve watched all the movies, good, bad, indifferent. Alien, Start Wars, War of the Worlds, Interstellar, The Right Stuff, Armageddon. You name it, I’ve probably watched it. I also play a game called No Man’s Sky on my xbox. It gives me a chance to pretend, if only for a little while, that I’m exploring space. Here’s a little clip from gameplay.

    I’ve had many false starts with my writing, but now, at 66, I’m fully committed to finishing what I started to do. You may have noticed I’m now sharing a new sentence every day from my WIP I’ve titled Bitter Hollow. I do hope you’ll follow along. Here’s the link.

    https://richardschiver.com/my-journey-with-bitter-hollow-a-work-in-progress/

    Thanks for stopping by and listening to me rambling. I hope I haven’t bored you too much. Drop a comment below if your so inclined, I’d love to hear from you. I’d also appreciate a like, or a follow on social media.

    Thanks,

    Richard Schiver

  • Progress Report 01/30/2025

    Once again I’ve failed at keeping everyone up to date on my progress. In my effort to provide the best story I can for my readers I’ve taken the time to make sure everything is as right as I can possibly make it. What follows are the updates for each of my projects.

    Zomething Dead This Way Comes is back from the editor and I’m going through the manuscript addressing the issues noted. I’m shooting to have everything in place in February. I’ve also received four possible covers from my designer and I’m considering which one to go with. I’ll have more info soon on that.

    Over the past two years I have put down nearly 200,000 words as I’ve completed the first draft for Assimilation, book three of my Shadows of the Past trilogy. The trilogy is currently in rewrites then it will be off to my editor. I’m shooting for a late spring release for this.

    I’ve also completed the first draft of Faces of Our Fathers, book five of This Lawless Land, and have about another 30,000 words to go in Lair of the Broken Queen, which may, or may not be the final book in the series. I’ve been considering a seventh book I will title To Tame This Lawless Land, but I want to see how Lair of the Broken Queen shakes out first. I’m shooting for near the end of the year to have books five and six released. We’ll see then about book seven.

    I’ve also begun work on The Bad Place (not the final title, just a placeholder,) and I’m closing in on 30,000 words for that. I’ve been thinking along the lines of Nightwalker in some form or another as the title for this. This will likely be a 2026 title, released in mid winter/early spring.

    I’ve really been buckling down on my daily word counts. Shooting for an average of at least 1000 words a day. Some days I’ve hit more when the story really grips me, but I no longer allow myself to settle for only 500 words a day.

    I’m hopeful that by late summer I can bring back my weekly writing challenge with a minimum of 500 words every Wednesday until the story is done, then moving on to the next story.

    There’s a good bit going on behind the scenes right now. We lost our boy Max last year, we had a good fourteen years with him and that really hurt. A couple of knuckleheads moved in with us late in 2023. Mylo and Garfield are brothers from the same litter, and they get into everything. But we love them.

    Brothers Mylo & Garfield
    Garfield with big brother Max

    Until next time. Here’s the opening I’m considering for The Bad Place. What do you think? I know it needs a little tweaking.

    They lied to us, our parents, when they said there was nothing to be afraid of in the dark. They had outgrown their fear, replacing it with the reasoning of an adult who excused the cause for every bump and creak throughout the night. Attributing those errant sounds to the house settling or a rodent seeking shelter for the coming winter. It was in the dark where our greatest fears live. Hiding the monster under the bed, the creature in the closet, or the ghost at the window.

    When you’re eleven you don’t worry about making the house payment, or if Mr. Whetstone, your boss, is going to lay you off. You don’t worry about whether your wife still loves you, or if she’s banging the bag boy at the local Sav-A-Lot behind your back.

    When you’re eleven your fear lives much closer to your heart, in your nightmares, and the shadows crowding the corners of a darkened bedroom where the weak light of the nightlight dare not go. When you’re eleven the world is filled with equal measures of wonder and terror.

    Doug’s greatest fear at eleven was the walking dude. A character from one of the books his older brother once read, a being of unimaginable evil that came to their sleepy little town one night after a heavy storm. Doug had witnessed the walking dude’s arrival. The measured, steady, clip clop of his footsteps on the street in front of the house pulled him from a deep sleep. Slipping out of bed he shook his brother to wake him and crossed to the window so he could see who was walking down the street. Outside, the world was cloaked in darkness, low clouds obscuring the face of the moon that might have offered a degree of solace to a child coming face to face with his greatest fear.

  • Our Subconscious at Work.

    It’s amazing how the subconscious works.

    I wrote All Roads Lead to Terror, the first book in my post-apocalyptic series, This Lawless Land, way back in 2013. The story focused on four teenage boys exploring a world that had moved on. At the time it was only going to be a one off, then I’d move on to other projects.

    In All Roads Lead to Terror, one of the characters grabbed a bundle of hundred-dollar bills from a bank. Which on the surface made no sense. I mean in the world I’d built, who would want to be weighed down by such a useless object? But the character wanted it, so who am I to stand in the way? Right.

    One book became two, then grew into three. In 2018 I wrote book four of my supposed stand alone. I’m not as fast as many other writers out there, I usually only get about an hour a day to do what I love. But through all four books my character insisted on carrying that damn bundle of money no matter what. He’d been through a great deal by this time. He’d grown up a good bit, but a small voice in his head kept telling him to keep the money. Yet I still did not understand why he was being so particular.

    Book four burned me out on their story so I moved on to other things for a bit. But I never strayed far from the characters. My thoughts usually returning to them as I wondered what they were up to. During my break I wrote Not of Us, Cursed, and the third installment of a trilogy I started in 2012, I know another project I need to clear up.

    I returned to the story last year and recently completed the first draft of book five. Whereupon I turned my attention to book six, which I felt would be the last chapter in their story. But at this stage, twenty thousand words into the first draft, I believe there will be a seventh and final book in the series. One I hoped to dive into once I have finished the first draft of book six. Of course there will be the rewrites and editing and all that before my creation can finally see the light of a new day.

    In 2013 I never imagined that ten years later I would be writing book six. What’s more amazing, is that in book six I finally figured out why this young boy insisted on carrying all that useless money around with him. If you want to know as well, you’ll have to wait until I get the series done. Sorry.

    Update: I’ve found a new editor and will be sending him Zomething Dead This Way Comes, when his schedule clears up at the end of October. I’m also shopping for a good cover for it. If all goes well it will be available by the end of this year. Stay tuned for more updates as they become available. Things are finally starting to jell on the writing front, and I’ll be posting more often as more news becomes available.

  • Are We First?

    For years it’s been accepted that the universe is 13.7 billion years old, but lately there has been speculation it might be twice as old as we believe. Last year the James Webb telescope focused on several distant galaxies that appear early but look more grown up. More details about this development can be found at Big Think .

    But what does that have to do with your creative process? You might be wondering.

    A lot, and we’ll get to that shortly. I’ve always had an interest in space and space travel, so I find myself drawn to articles of that nature. I uncovered something called the Silurian hypothesis. A thought experiment which assesses modern science’s ability to uncover evidence of a prior civilization. More information about the Silurian hypothesis can be found on the Discovery website.

    For those of you who are fans of Doctor Who, yes the hypothesis was named after the Silurian race featured on the show. Put forth by physicist Adam Frank and Climatologist Gavin Schmidt its purpose is to try to pinpoint the methods of spotting deep time civilizations in other planets. Every civilization leaves a mark after it’s passed. Be it an increase in carbon emissions from an industrial revolution, or the microplastics that will remain long after we’re gone. But these traces will be so small as to be missed unless we’re specifically looking for them.

    As a writer my mind is always working in “what if” mode.

    The Silurian hypothesis first came to my attention when I was working on the final book in my Shadows of the Past trilogy. I thought what if the creature threatening our future was an indigenous inhabitant of earth and we were the invaders, having come from the stars ourselves. The more I dug into the hypothesis, the more I came to understand their method might be a little short sighted. Using the effects of our current civilization would only locate those civilizations that mirrored our own historic timeline. How would you look for signs of a say silicon-based life form? What if the barren planet we ignore once carried life that was wiped out by a bomb we have no knowledge of? What if the emerging civilization took a path entirely different from our own because they viewed the world differently than we did? What if they discovered fission power early in the process and their industrial revolution did not leave the same traces as our own.

    I’m not saying I’m an expert at any of this, nor do I have a thorough understanding of how they go about searching for the clues they seek. But it’s something that sparked my interest, and my mind tends to wander in those directions when I’m confronted with new knowledge.

    What do you think?

    Are we indigenous to this planet?

    Or did we come from the stars?