Willard
01-27-2007, 08:45 AM
Chapter 13
Dave awoke groggily at 11:45, Tony shaking him gently. “Dave, it’s a quarter ‘til. We’ve
got a problem, too.”
That got Dave’s attention. “What is it?”
“We keep hearing voices from the main trail. Kids and grown ups, a dog once. Rhonda
has a radio, she’s watching the way we came.”
“That’s good,” said Dave, lacing up his boots, “After I make radio contact, let’s make
sure the kids are ready to go quickly if we need to.”
Dave fished out his transceiver and listened at Noon. “Got your message” was all the
voice said. Then Dave heard the melody of Patsy Cline singing “Walking After
Midnight”. Dave smiled. He sure was. He listened to the song he liked so much, and then
repacked his radio. No brevity code, no alert song, no problems back at home.
After checking and re-packing the ponchos, Dave explained that he was going to look for
a better spot to camp, further away from the trail, as hearing the traffic they were, even so
little of it, was unnerving.
He gave Tony a running password, and with his canteen attached to belt loop via a
carabiner, reapplied camouflage cream to his face, and left the campsite. He moved easily
through the light underbrush of the old home site. He passed the old foundation, the cut
granite front step partially covered by a lilac bush, a remnant of forgotten dreams and
ambitions. Places like this usually made Dave melancholy, as he remembered the farms
of his youth now covered with asphalt, sod, and poorly constructed houses. He had no
time for reminiscing now, he was all business as he moved as if back on point in the
DMZ, every step a potential trip wire, every movement a potential enemy. He continued
for 20 minutes, finding a likely spot partially obscured by a large rock outcropping and a
large patch of briars, down slope from the old homestead . As he made his way back to
the family, he heard voices-loud voices. It sounded like a large group of people out for a
holiday or picnic. Dave hustled over to a fallen log and took a position behind it. He had
a fair view of a clearing that Dave assumed was once a barnyard in better times. He saw
them come into view one at a time. A dozen or more people, all carrying gaudily colored
packs, reds, bright blue, several of fluorescent orange. Dave recognized the cut. All the
packs were finest quality and popular with the urban hiker They were calling out to each
other in voices that echoed throughout the forest.
Dave cringed. He heard one call out “How about we stop here and have lunch?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” called a voice from the front.
The group met in the middle of the clearing, and Dave could see that they were armed.
AR-15’s with scopes, an HK-91 or two, a couple of what looked like Bennelli shotguns,
nothing low cost or second string, from a money standpoint. There were eight men and
male teenagers, all equipped with pistols in drop leg holsters. The entire group dropped
their packs and a group of them started to noisily collect firewood. One had a small axe
on his pack, a sleek affair with a black plastic handle. He started merrily hacking away at
a nearby standing Oak tree. Some of the women yelled to the men “How about some
rocks?”
“Yeah, sure”, rang a voice. Soon the group had a fire ring with a fire blazing in it, smoke
curling lazily to the clear, crisp Autumn sky. Dave had one thought ‘These idiots have a
death wish’. He remembered his friend Scott’s stories from when he spent three months
in Afghanistan fighting with the Mujihadeen against the Russians-any sign of camp fires
were often bombed from the air indiscriminately. If the U.N. Forces were actually
looking for stragglers and refuges, they could conceivably drop in heliborne troops to
investigate, or set up blocking forces, or just bomb them, which Dave didn’t think they
would do. Yet. He watched as the group below him, who Dave had Christened the
‘Knuckleheads’, started cooking their lunch. Freeze dried ration packages soon littered
the area as the ‘knuckleheads’ cast their trash aside with wild abandon. Dave could only
shake his head as he watched a few of them construct a makeshift shelter for a latrine.
One passed around a bottle of something Dave was sure wasn’t medicinal around. He
watched one check what must have been a GPS receiver and discuss the readout with
another. They were both pointing in opposite directions. Dave toyed with the idea of
making contact with the clown circus, but decided against it. Six extras were enough.
These people had no small children, and were making no attempt whatsoever at
maintaining a tactical presence. He felt no real obligation to them. Dave slowly low
crawled away from the party and almost silently made his way back to his concerned
wards.
“Dave, what’s going on?” asked a concerned Tony.
“A group of folks bugging out. Look like big money idiots from the city. Think they can
throw money at something and not need experience. I’d take you and your SKS over all
of them and $3000.00 pre bans any day.” Dave looked around. “Call Rhonda, let her
know we’re leaving. We’ll recall her just when we are ready to go.”
Tony woke up the kids, and they packed their kit quickly. A few of the kids had to ‘use
the woodline’, so to speak. After completing that, they called in Rhonda and rucked up.
Dave led them downhill, away from the party. They were off trail, and moved slowly and
carefully, seeking stealth not speed. Eventually they broke for a breather. Tony looked up
at the trees and said, ”Dave, how about this spot?”
Dave, sitting on his pack drinking from his canteen, looked around and said “Sure.” They
couldn’t hear the festival of all fools up the hill, and were under decent cover. Dave told
Rhonda and Tony that he would stand watch and they could feed the kids. Dave
mentioned the esbit stove they had captured from the Germans, and Tony smiled. “Hot
stuff for lunch?”
“Go ahead,” said Dave, “just no fun.”
Rhonda laughed, “Or you’ll scalp us?”
Dave grinned, “Yup.”
Dave took his pack a little ways up hill and laid his pack down. He took out the solar
charger and placed it in a sunny spot. Laying behind the pack, he remained alert for
unusual noises or out of place movement. He remained there for several hours, enjoying
the solitude of the place and wishing he was home and that things were normal.
Eventually, Tony came up to where he was. “Dave, you want a break?”
“Sure, Tony,” Dave whispered back. “How do you like the new rifle?”
“It’s nice, this thing probably costs more than my car.”
“Well, it’s no good of you can’t use it. Those idiots up there are going to get captured or
killed, all the fancy crap in the world won’t help them.”
Tony leaned into Dave, “How much longer, do you figure?”
Dave considered. “Three or four days, five at the most. We may be tight on food, but
once we get there we can get a ride. Where were you planning on going? Relatives or
friends?”
Tony looked away for a moment then back at Dave, “No, we don’t have anyone or
anything to go to. We just knew they would come for me, so we split. Kind of figured
we’d wing it when we got there. Staying out of jail was the first thing we was worried
about.”
Dave looked away. “Well, I can probably put you up for a bit, and introduce you to a few
folks. If you are as good a mechanic as you said the night I met you, you’ll have plenty of
work.”
Tony brightened, “That’d be great, Dave. That’s really good of you to do that for me and
the kids and Rhonda. But we still have to get there.”
Dave nodded. “There is that. Do you want to learn how to strip your rifle?”
“Sure.”
“OK, first, unload and clear it…..”
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Dave listened with rapt attention as Scott talked about the airstrike.
“We were on a hillside,” he said, his animated style of story telling keeping all eyes in the
bar locked on him, “and we were hiding in this cave. Well, these idiots we were supposed
to link up with were camped across the valley. We had met with them but I didn’t like the
look of them. They had rusty rifles and smelled like hashish. So I told Amir Khan that
there was no way I was spending the night with those pirates, so we climbed up the
mountain to a cave where we kept the missiles. So here we are, sitting in this cave,
shivering in the cold, and these doofuses have a big fire going like it’s bonfire day at the
beach. We’re talking to ourselves about the mission-we were gonna ambush a supply
column coming to relieve the fort we had under siege-and we hear a jet, way up high, out
of Stinger range. Then we hear whistling go past. Walid pushed me down and then
WHOOM!,” he yelled, splashing beer from his mug, his hands telling the story as much
as his words, “the whole freaking hillside across the valley goes up. Musta dropped a
whole load from a Frogfoot,” referring to the Soviet SU-25, loosely a copy of the
venerable American A-10, “We had stuff falling all over our mountain,” his eyes got a
faraway look. “Body parts, rocks, what was left of an RPK-74. Came down like rain.”
Everyone was quiet. Then he looked up, “And the next night the group I was with wanted
to build a frigging fire in the open! I said ‘What, are people nuts? Do you have any idea
why your pals across the valley got turned into martyr hamburger last night?’ and they
just looked at me. Inshallah, they said. God’s will. I told them God made them stupid, if
that’s how you feel. Half these guys are head and shoulders above any other guerilla
fighter in history, the rest are knuckleheads, 144% dumb*ss. The only thing is, they’re
beating the Russians.”
A blond from campus spoke up “Why are the Russians losing?”
“Two things,” said Scott, giving her the once over. Potential here, he thought, “One,
they’re using draftees who don’t want to be there and who’s only goal is to survive their
tour. The other is the ‘Ghanis are too stubborn to give up.”
While Daves mind drifted, events were stirring elsewhere. Back in New Hampshire, his
friends were listening to the radio. Most normal work was infrequent now, with society
holding its breath. Even in New Hampshire, where the power came from one nuclear
power plant and hydro power from Quebec, there was trouble supplying all of the needs
of industry. The pressure on the states that had declared themselves beyond the UN
mandates and oppressive federal government was substantial. Governors were alternately
threatened with prison and lengthy sentences and cajoled with empty promises of Senate
seats and more power. Fortunately real men and women of courage had emerged, as they
often do in crisis. Dave’ own governor was an example of this. Once criticized for being
wishy-washy on tough issues, he stood up to the Federal government on TV and declared
that he was not going to give up the citizens of New Hampshire and their God given
rights for all the power of God.
“I will no more sacrifice the precious liberty of the citizens of my state to the current
regime in Washington than I would to hollow mandates from the United Nations. Their
freedoms are not mine to sell, for any price. My oath as governor stated quite clearly that
my job is to protect the rights of citizens. I have no power to abrogate those rights, under
any situation or circumstance. The United States Government in Washington D.C. has no
more power to take away or curtail our rights to free travel, free association, or any other
blessing of Liberty recognized by our Founding Fathers than it has to sell oil rights on
Mars.
As of this morning, I have ordered the mobilization of the State Defense Force and the
militia. Right now we are calling for all male citizens between the ages of 17 and 62 to
report to their town halls, police stations, fire stations, state police barracks, former
National Guard armories, and other places to be announced locally, for enlistment in
militia companies. We would suggest that each person have at their disposal one firearm
of military utility. Lists of equipment needed are being developed and will be sent to all
towns in the state for dissemination. As of this moment I am declaring this state a gun
control free state. No citizen of this state is subject to any federal firearms law. The
General Assembly is right now passing a law invalidating all state laws concerning
firearms.
No peaceable person shall be debarred the right to keep and bear arms. Period.
Further, it has come to the attention of this office that there are a number of otherwise
peaceable people trying to reach our fair state to take advantage of our freedoms. We
welcome them with open arms. The representative of any agency interfering with the safe
passage of persons across out borders will be dealt with in the harshest possible manner.
I implore the President and our Congress in Washington D.C. to expel the foreign troops,
over 100,000 so far, that have landed in our country. Return our government to a sound
fiscal policy. Return to us our Constitutional Republic, that we entrusted to you and you
stole. We demand it. We will live that promise of freedom, whatever your mandates,
whatever price we must bear.
Our license plates bear a motto, and we will follow that promise- ‘Live Free or Die’. And
so we will.”
“Good night, and may God Bless the Republic, and the great state of New Hampshire.”
Dave’s group was in an uproar. Some wanted to launch attacks against the German troops
in Massachusetts immediately, some wanted to go to town and help organize the militia.
“We don’t need them,” stated Steve forcefully, “with all the training we’ve done we can
operate independently. Taking on a bunch of amateurs will slow us down and
compromise us. I vote for leaderless resistance.”
“I disagree,” said Jim, “ we need to develop an Army with coordination of effortdecentralized
for certain, but without coordination all of our effort will be wasted, effort
duplicated. No army has ever won a war without central leadership. Supply,
communication, support we will need soon enough, and we can’t do that alone.”
The debate continued well into the night. Eventually they decided they would offer their
services to the state, provided they could remain together as a unit. The first concern was
their families. They would go around and check to ensure they had enough food and fuel
to get through to Spring. They needed to inventory food, medicines, fuel, lamp oil,
female hygiene items, everything. Although individually against collectivism, they would
redistribute what they had amongst themselves for the sake of their families. They had
enough ammunition to fight the war alone, and the number of guns they owned between
themselves would have given UN weapons inspectors fits. But they were only 9. For now.
With the night, rested, well fed, and ready, Dave and his charges left the shelter of the
forest and again took to the trail. They made good time over the hilly terrain, as the trail
was clear and the path well traveled. They proceeded up the spur trail and again headed
north. They continued on this path for several hours, taking breaks as needed. The
children were bearing the march well, again better then Dave had a right to expect. He
hoped their fear of him didn’t manifest itself into hate. But, he reasoned, they had parents
that were, by all means, good and loving, and that went a long way too. Further than fear.
They cleared the second large hill, not quite in mountains yet, and out front Dave saw
something that made him stop in his tracks. A campfire, burning brightly, in the saddle
below him, off to the right. Apparently there was a clearing there, and people were
burning a fire, or all things. Dave would have bet it was those noisy clowns from the
early afternoon.
Dave decided to wait. He didn’t want to detour, but he didn’t want these rank amateurs to
draw fire, too. He called the group over to him, and laid it out.
“We can try to get past them quickly, or we can detour. But we’ll have to cut pretty far
out to get ahead of these folks. If we go past them we’ll need to push it 100% and still be
cautious as we can be.”
Rhonda and Tony looked at each other and nodded. “We’ll try to stay as fast as we can,
Dave. Right kids?”
A murmur from the children reinforced their Fathers word.
“O.K. Let’s make sure you kids stay with Mom and Dad. Tony, I’ll have a radio, as will
you and Rhonda. I’m going to go first, don’t try to keep up. When I get to the top of the
next hill I’m going to check it out, drop my pack, and come back for you guys to help.”
“Sure Dave.”
“If anything happens, I’ll call you. If it sounds like I’ve been taken out, we’ve been over
the maps, you can go north, you can defend ourselves. If I hear you in trouble, I’ll come
running. Don’t be afraid to drop your packs and run. You can survive without your packs,
so remember that.”
“We will” said Rhonda emphatically.
“Drink a little water, go if you have to, and follow me.”
Dave set out at a quick pace, trying to make time without sacrificing stealth. He was sure
he’d be up and back before the family reached the bottom of the saddle. As he progressed
towards the branch trail the must be there, for otherwise the clown posse wouldn’t have
made camp where they did, he slowed. He was glad he did as he saw lighter flare about
200 yards down hill from him. He dropped his ruck quietly and called Tony on the radio.
“Family Guy, it’s Boone” he called.
“Go ahead,” came the reply.
“I dropped my pack short of the saddle. Look for the luminous tape on the inside of the
frame, it should be facing you as you come down. There’s someone down here, I’m going
to check them out.”
“Roger” Tony answered tersely.
Dave entered stealth mode as he carefully made his way down the hill. He heard them
talking long before he got there, two voices chatting in the dark. He cautiously made his
way towards them, and took cover behind a convenient boulder.
“Hey!” he hissed. The voices stopped.
“Who’s there?” one called.
“A friend,” was Dave’s answer.
“Well come out, if you’re a friend.” He heard one man trying to sneak around.
“Tell your pal to stop trying to circle me and come out in the open and I will.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” asked the disembodied voice.
“You don’t. But if I wanted to I could have opened up on you instead of hailing you,
right?” replied Dave.
The voice seemed to be considering it. “Alright, Mikey, come out and we’ll see this guy,”
the voice called out after a minute.
Dave heard Mikey breaking brush and saw him come out onto the trail below him. Dave
took a deep breath and stood up. “Over here,” he called, his rifle pointing at them, safety
off, finger on the trigger. The two men had their weapons slung assault style but the
muzzles were pointed downwards as they approached him. Dave stepped towards them.
“Who are you?” asked the voice in charge.
“Just a wayward traveler, like you.”
“Where you headed?”
“Past you. I just want to go up the trail and no trouble.”
Silence. “We’ll need to check and see what we’re gonna do with you.” Came the reply.
“OK,” said Dave, I’ll wait here.”
The man spoke into a radio.
“Yeah, he just wants to pass b y, he says…..no, just a rifle…..I’ll see.”
“Where’s your pack, mister?”
“I left it up the trail.”
“He left it up the trail…..OK, hold on.”
“you military, pal? Boss wants to know.”
Dave answered “I was once, but now I’m just a citizen who wants to go home.”
“Where you from?”
“New Hampshire.”
“Hold on. Boss, this is Roger, he says he’s ex military and going home to New
Hampshire……I’ll see.”
“Who were you with?”
“I was with the 82nd Airborne, and tell your boss I’m getting tired of playing games.
Either let me pass or fight.”
“No need to get testy,” replied the man whose name was Roger, “let me tell the boss”
“No need,” said a voice from behind him. Roger whirled “Jeez, don’t sneak up on me like
that!”
Ignoring Roger and Mikey, the “Boss” walked straight up to Dave. “I’m in charge here.
What is it you want?”
“I want to pass here without your boys shooting at me.”
“You solo?”
“Right now I am.” Said Dave, not wishing to expose his group just yet.
“Roger says you were 82nd Airborne, that right?”
“Yes,” said Dave, his patience getting thin, “Infantry. Who the heck are you and why are
you blocking a public trail?”
“We’ll do what we have to to protect ourselves. Look, if you’re alone, you’ll be safer in a
group. Would you be interested in visiting with us? We could help you get north and we
could offer more protection than you have traveling alone.”
Dave answered quickly, “I’m only interested in passing here. What do you say?”
“If you don’t think we’re good enough…”
”I don’t care if you are all ex-Delta,” cut in Dave, “Can I pass or not?”
“Well, sure, it’s a free country.”
“I’m going to get my pack. I’ll be right back” said Dave. He trotted up the path radioed
Tony quietly that he was coming towards them. He found the family crouched around his
pack.
“I’m going back down. I’ll break squelch twice as a signal for you to come down the hill,
OK?”
“OK” answered Tony.
“I’ll explain it all when I can,” said Dave, “but for now, I need to move.”
Dave returned carefully, but his caution was unnecessary. The three man were still in a
cluster in the saddle. As Dave approached, the ‘Boss’ said “What’s your hurry? We have
a lot to offer. And we’re traveling in the daytime, it’s a lot easier to see.”
To which Dave answered “Are you going to let me. pass?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said the Boss, obviously put off by Davis brusque manner, “I was
just saying…/”
”Well, I have a family with kids behind me. They are going to pass here,” Dave broke
squelch twice, “in a minute. Please don’t disturb them.”
The Boss sounded bewildered, “I thought you were alone?”
“I was.” Said Dave. “But you took so long jawing that they caught up with me. They are
a little nervous, so just let them pass.”
Jus then the footsteps of the family sounded on the trail. Watching the three men to
ensure they made no moves for their weapons, Dave counted shapes in the
dark……3…4…5….6. After waiting a moment in silence, Dave said, “Let’s give them a
few minutes, and I’ll fill you in on something.”
The ‘Boss’ shuffled on his feet.
“I don’t know who you are or why you are bugging out, but you clowns are going to get
yourselves killed. You make too much noise when you travel. Your picnic this afternoon
was a lesson in how to be found. If you are fugitives or escaping, you need to quit
building fires, quit making noise, travel at night, and don’t put your security in the middle
of a trail!”
The Boss sputtered, “you don’t understand.;…”
“Oh, I understand, all right. I watched you clowns at lunch, big fire, chopping down trees,
and tonight I could see your fire from a mile away up the hill; it’s like a beacon saying
‘find me and kill me’ to anyone in a 15 mile area. You better think if you want to survive.
Good luck. You’ll need it.” And Dave turned and stalked off.
Chapter 14
Ideas are more important then guns. If we
wouldn’t let our opponents have guns, why
would we let them have ideas?
-Joseph Stalin, socialist
The next two days of travel passed uneventfully. They refilled their water several times,
from streams that flowed free and clear down the hillsides. Dave either treated all water
with purification tablets or used his filter. Even the most clean looking water could have
Giardia cysts in it. Away from treatment and modern medicine, diarrhea could kill, as it
did thousands of kids in the Third World every year.
Dave’s radio reports came in as expected, all was well at home. While scanning the AM
bands they heard the story of the Governors speech, and the Federal response, which was
to place more pressure on the state to accept foreign “securit forces”. Several other state
legislatures followed suit the next day with declarations of their own. The talking heads
from the mainstream media were calling for the removal of the politicians who had so
obviously lost touch with ‘the needs of the people’, not seeing it was they who had lost
that touch years before. All over America dividing lines were being drawn. As in the
period leading up to the Civil War of the 1860’s, this crisis had been brewing for years.
The difference this time was that half the country was unaware it was even happening.
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The American press, supposed bastion of freedom and truth, had long hence sold its soul.
Controlled by a handful of wealthy liberals, and guided at the newsroom level by bigoted
editors, the print media rarely offered more than a token glimpse of any viewpoint that
differed from their skewed world view. On the issues of gun control, abortion, child
rearing, homosexual ‘marriage’, welfare, taxes, and foreign aid, among other things, the
view from the pressroom was vastly different from the view where Mr. and Mrs. America
struggled to raise moral, decent families while being bombarded with bromides assailing
their values and views daily. The press couldn’t even see the irony in how they treated
the last war. Mention was never made of the complacency and outright support the
Muslim clergy in America gave to terrorists on our soil. American soldiers of the Islam
faith who attacked American troops, aided and abetted prisoners, and even gave
information to terrorists that allowed them to kill many more Americans were referred to
as if they were aberrations, each broadcast and article taking time to explain that these
people did not represent mainstream Islam. However as soon as an abortion clinic was
bombed, an outspoken homosexual activist was murdered, a strange sect was caught
starving their children, the perpetrators were depicted as being mainstream Christians,
typically White. Never was mention made that these people were aberrations, never were
their acts explained away, validated, or justified by a fawning press. When scandal
rocked the Catholic Church, the crisis led the headlines for weeks. Little or no mention
was made, however, on the fact that the majority of sex abusers were homosexuals. Don’t
want to offend the fairies, you know. Or maybe their ‘orientation’ wasn’t really a factor.
Straight folks do it to, they maintained, although they failed to provide any figures for
that claim. Better to destroy in institution of faith then offend perverts. When a male
‘couple’ kidnapped and molested a 13 year old boy, abusing him, killing him, and
encasing his body in concrete, little mention was made, again, of the fact that the abuse
was homosexual in nature. The story quickly faded to Section B, page 15. However the
ups and downs of celebrity love affairs were front page news for weeks.
During the first Clinton Administration serious questions about the finance of his
campaign, the Chinese connection, Lippo Group, his whoremongering and drug use, the
sale of secret documents by State Department employees, and a host of other scandals
were given word play then explained away, the party line never questioned. When he
bombed Afghanistan and the Sudan on the same day testimony was being given that
would implicate the President in perjury, the timing was not questioned. The press was
not only guilty of aiding and abetting, they were the enablers, covering up scandal by
giving legitimacy to every alibi or excuse, no matter how outrageous or unbelievable.
As the mainstream news media lost viewers, independent news organizations-‘the loony
right’ according to the same mainstream press-experienced a surge in their audience.
However the left wing activists and their well-oiled arapchek were effective in using the
courts to their end. Lawsuits for slander, liable, and defamation of character drained the
networks of money. The owners of said stations treated them as entertainment sources,
not news sources, which undermined the credibility of their stories and employees.
Eventually, members of the establishment left would not even appear on shows on these
networks. The establishment right, as was typical, had no solidarity against the left and
no real game plan to thwart the constant propaganda attacks and misinformation. In the
last few years before foreign troops landed on U.S. soil, invited by a sitting U.S.
President, it was only half jokingly suggested that the Republican Party was actually run
by the Demoncrats to give the American people hope that there were two parties to vote
for. Democrats supported abortion on demand, the Republicans abortion in some
situations. The Democrats supported almost all gun control, the Republicans only some
gun control. The Democrats wanted total control over Americas health care industry, the
Republicans only wanted to nationalize part of it. Oh, and Dear God if the press actually
called it ‘nationalization’. Too Soviet. They were ‘making health care available’.
Newspeak. Winston Smith would be familiar with they way things were being done here.
Hiding the reality behind a word. Gay went from meaning happy to meaning sodomite in
a generation. Making health care available replaced theft. Replaced nationalization.
Replaced slavery.
A large portion of America remained oblivious to what was going on around them. Like
the characters of a science fiction movie unaware of another dimension sharing space
with them, they swallowed the press’ lies, or simply tuned out the constant repetition of
lies, disconnecting from politics and policy, flotsam and jetsam in the tidal wave of
society. Blissfully unaware, they would bleat loudly and vigorously if the obvious were
pointed out to them. No time. Too busy cutting the lawn watching the game working to
pay taxes pay bills being lobotomized by prime time T.V. to really get involved. Not my
job, you know. My father was a democratrepublicanapathetic fool and I am proud to be
the same. You’re paranoid.
Others could read the writing on the wall. One only had to be a student of history to see
the road ahead. When the Roman Patrician class became too self absorbed to defend itself,
and the army filled with barbarians, Rome’s fate was sealed. How can a society endure
when it’s own citizens, who reap its rewards, care not enough to defend it? In America,
defense of the nation increasingly was viewed, by the establishment, as service one step
above abortion clinic bomber. Every sacrifice, every hardship, was denigrated at every
turn. The military was assaulted endlessly for the smallest mistake, the tiniest growing
pain. Any good the military did was screened by the dust cloud of anger thrown up by the
left. Most people had no idea what went on in the military, and had no concept of the
military’s good points or recent accomplishments. With the destruction of Americas
middle class, which was the real strength of the country, America was quickly being
reduced to just another socialist state, power being derived from the government owning
the fruits of its subjects labor. With the nationalization of health care, the standardization
of schools, the nationalization of utility services, and further expansion of the federal
government into everything from banking to trucking, the nation was fast slipping into a
mixture of socialism (where everything is owned by the state) and fascism (where
privately owned companies are directed by the state). And the American public at large
had no clue, nor did they care to.
The small percentage of the American public that did care was victimized by the press,
but their claims to this truth were dismissed as being frivolous whining by those not
concerned for ‘the greater good’. They were not being represented by their elected
officials. Well, we are a democracy, aren’t we? They were elected fairly, weren’t they?
The schools were not teaching the fundamentals. Well, they are trained educators. What
do you know about education? Home schooling? Parents aren’t qualified to do that, and
besides, it’s the states job to indoctrina…we mean teach your kids. Firearms? The
Founding Fathers didn’t mean assault weapons, they meant muskets. And besides, they’re
for the National Guard. Of course they didn’t mean hand cranked printing presses, too,
don’t be absurd. We control those, er, who was ever hurt by ideas, we mean?
As history demonstrates, you cannot for long suppress the free man. He will revolt, and
either be free or dead. Either is preferable to slavery. You can destroy him, you can even
enslave him. But as long as that spark of Liberty remains, imprinted deep in mans genetic
code, those who seek it will find it.
“By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under Liberty”-Massachusetts state motto
(ironic, no?).
Dave, Rhonda, and Tony were going over Dave’s topographic maps, discussing their
route for that evening.
“It looks like we’ll cross the border tonight, it’s about seven miles by the route we’re
taking.”
“Will it be guarded?” asked Rhonda.
“We won’t know until we get there,” replied Dave, “but we’ll continue as before, with
caution. I’ll walk point ahead of you, we’ll probably be pushing the range of the radios,
but it should give us enough of a cushion should I run into anybody.”
Rhonda and Tony’s heads nodded.
“Before we move I’m going to let my friends know we’re coming. They can meet us as
far south as they can go, maybe tomorrow we can ride the rest of the way in safety.”
Rhonda stated “That would be awesome, Dave.”
Tony nodded his assent, “I can’t believe we’re so close.”
They all reflected on the map. They had covered a lot of ground, given their situation.
The kids were holding up well. They had eventually decided that Dave wasn’t going to
scalp them, and had warmed up to him again, although at times it seemed they had their
doubts. But they had somehow adapted to keeping things as quiet as possible, and
suffered the nightly walks in silence. The weather was still bright and clear, chilly in the
daytime and cold at night. The further north they got, even at 10 or 15 miles a day,
brought them closer to cold weather and higher in altitude. They were glad to be ahead of
the cold weather that November would surely bring.
Packed and ready to go, the family, whose name Dave had only recently found out was
Antonetti, waited for Dave to send his radio transmission. Dave was sitting on his pack,
radio at his side, antenna strung up over a convenient branch. Using the code sheet he
was carefully composing a message to his group. Rechecking his work, he put away the
code and notebook, stowed his pencil stub, and picked up the radio.
“Angry Fellow 2-2, this is Minstrel 6-6, do you copy, over.”
Static.
“Angry Fellow 2-2, this is Minstrel 6-6, come in, over.”
A staticy voice answered, “Minstrel 6-6, this is Angry Fellow 4, go ahead, over.” Adding
the last two numbers meant they were not under duress. Under duress, or someone trying
to imitate his contact, would have used 2-2.
“Message follows, break” Dave let up on the key, and pushed a preset button, jumping to
another frequency, per their SOP.
“1-547-9-8-15-21-13-13-54-11-75-65-65-33-81-20, over”
“6-6, I copy 1-547-9-8-15-21-13-13-54-11-75-65-65-33-81-20, over.”
“That’s correct. 6-6 out.” Dave shut off the radio, and signaled Tony and his family to
move out. He then stowed the antenna, recovered his pack, and followed them into the
twilight.
Their movement would take them through the last few miles of the state park they had
laagered in that day. They followed another hiking trail for several miles. The further
they got from the main park the more unused the trail seemed. After crossing a barbed
wire fence into private land, they paralleled the property line, re-crossing the fence where
the property line ended. Once again in the woods, they had to break brush for just over a
mile to reach the next trail. Before reaching the trail they had to cross a road. Dave broke
squelch twice, meaning stop. He then broke it once and after a slow three count again. He
heard the family moving up to him fairly quietly. Dave and Tony leaned together so that
their heads almost touched. “Road ahead,” said Dave, “I’ll do it like before, I’ll go first,
check the road, cross and clear the far side, then let you know with three clicks. You
watch the road to you left, I’ll watch it to mine, Rhonda will escort the kids over.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Dave slowly approached the road, what he considered the most dangerous area to cross.
They had seen no sign of any police or troops in the woods, although there had been a
few helicopters flying over during the day. He stopped to listen. For five minutes he
listened intently, hearing nothing. One good thing about the gas crisis-not much false
alarm traffic. He cautiously approached the road, and lay down under the brush. Looking
up and down the road he saw nothing. Pushing off with his arms, he rose to his feet and
darted across the road, slowing before the far side shrubs and entering the wood line
slowly. He turned and dropped his pack, and listened again. Nothing. He explored the far
side, finding dark trees and silent plants. He keyed the radio, and returned to the road.
Shortly after, Tony appeared, he and Dave taking their positions, an adaptation of a
technique called “scroll to the road”. Normally the security would be relieved by the next
man in line, but tonight they would let the kids and Rhonda cross between them.
The kids crossed in pairs, Jake leading little Jennifer, then Rhonda, then Julia and
Carolyn. Giving them enough time to go into the woods about 50 yards, Tony ran across,
his pack flopping against his back. After he passed, Dave left the roadside and entered the
woods.
Recovering his pack, Dave again took the lead. They hit the trail after a half-hour of
tough going. Dave called a halt to drink and treat more than a few scratches on arms,
hands, and faces. They again took the trail as it curved around an old cemetary and then
climbed another hill. This one took them across a spur that gave them a starlit view of the
land beyond. “New Hampshire” Dave whispered. ‘This isn’t paradise, but you can see it
from here’ he mused. Quickly crossing the spur, Dave followed the trail down tot he first
of several steep parts, where the trail seemed to end abruptly at rock ledges. The trail
turned here, and the climb, up or down, was tricky. Dave lowered his pack down via 550
cord, and waited at the edge. Rhonda and the kids soon arrived. Dave pointed out the
danger, and had Rhonda move the kids off trail a little way. With Tony covering, Dave
made his way down the rock face and did a quick scout down the path a hundred yards or
so. Coming back, Tony lowered the families packs to Dave, who moved them to one side.
Tony then lowered Jennifer to Dave by both of her arms. Dave caught her under the arms
and parked her on his pack. “Stay right here, peanut,” he said quietly. “OK,” came her
answer in the dark.
One at a time the kids came down, then Rhonda, then Tony. Saddling back up, they again
headed down the trail, crossing several more ledges and drawing ever closer to their goal.
They were running out of dark when Dave conferred with Tony. “I had planned on
crossing into New Hampshire here. It’s about three miles, we cross a golf course, enter
farmland, and then yet another state park, this one just over the border. There’s a bird
sanctuary on the other side we can stay at if we need to.”
“Let’s do it, then,” said Tony, “we’re almost there.”
“OK, let’s go.”
Hiking up their packs for what they hoped was one last stretch, Dave led them around the
perimeter of the golf course, it’s once manicured fairways overgrown and mangy looking.
They crossed through the expansive backyards of several condoplexes, and followed a
dirt path into the woods behind the clubhouse. They saw no lights, heard no noises. They
didn’t even smell woodsmoke, which would have indicated habitation. The trail wound
through the woods, carrying them for a time next to a babbling stream that tumbled past
them towards the golf course. The trail wound steadily upwards, taking them up the last
hill and the crossover out of Massachusetts.
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Dawn was dimly approaching as they crossed the border on a level trail. Dave was in the
lead, and crossed by an open area on the right that was a parking spot for day-trippers and
bird watchers. The path was partially screened by trees and mountain laurel bushes, but
Dave still felt exposed. He quickly passed it and radioed Tony and Rhonda. “There’s a
parking area to your right, coming up. Hurry past it. Other than that it’s a clear shot.”
Dave heard them acknowledge, and switched his radio to their next frequency.
As Dave turned down the path, he heard a sound from the opposite direction. He paused,
then grabbed at his radio, shouting into it, “Tony, Rhonda, get off the trail! I hear trucks!
NOW!”
Tony’s breathless voice came over the radio “They saw us…two big trucks and …” the
sound of a machinegun firing drowned out Tony’s words. The bullets flew over Dave’s
head, some smacking loudly into tree trunks, the others whizzing through the boughs.
Dave dropped to the prone, facing the fire, unbuckling his pack even as he fell. He
quickly grabbed the two frags and the smoke grenade off of his belt and stuffed them
down his shirt. He heard another burst, this time from a small caliber automatic weapon.
He launched himself to his feet, calling out to his wards as he ran to the sound of the guns,
“Over here! Tony, Rhonda, kids, over here!”
Another burst of fire, up in the trees again, and the sounds of shouts in German. Dave
saw movement and brought up his rifle, skidding to stop behind a large tree. Carolyn and
Julia ran from the bushes like frightened rabbits.
They saw Dave, you yelled “Dump your packs and follow the trail. We’ll get you later.”
The girls shed their packs as they ran, and Dave turned his attention to the front. Jake ran
down the path, carrying Jennifer. “Follow the path!” Dave pointed. Jake nodded and
redoubled his efforts as more fire slapped through the trees. Dave again went forward as
he heard a long burst of fire from his direct front. He neither heard or felt any rounds
come near him, and charged forward. Breaking through bushes and coming again to the
path, Dave dove down next to Tony, who was reloading his G-36. “Where’s Rhonda?”
asked a breathless Dave. Tony pointed, “Right up there, behind a tree. She’s pinned.”
“I’m going left, I’ll hook around that way, so don’t fire to the left of her tree,” Dave
lowered himself and wiggled forward to have a look. More gunfire echoed through the
woods. “I’m going to throw a smoke grenade to the left, you throw yours to the right, as
far past her as you can. Get her out under the cover. I’ll come up behind you.”
“OK”
“Let’s roll,”
Dave and Tony both ripped the tape off of the pins on the smokes, and then quickly puled
them and threw them out, well past Rhonda’s tree. They heard another burst of
machinegun fire, and then the smoke started to obscure their view. More fire, rounds
whizzing over their heads. Dave did a quick rush to the left, and fired a few rounds, his
FAL’s deep boom echoing through the glen. Rhonda, not being a fool, started crawling to
Tony as soon as the smoke started floating back over her. Tony fired a few short bursts to
the right of her, even as Dave fired again from further left. Rhonda got up and ran at a
crouch to Tony, saying as she passed him “Let’s get out of here!” Tony fired up the last
of his magazine, turned, and ran after his wife.
Dave saw Rhonda crawling, and moved to the left again to try to draw attention away
from her. He fired a few shots at fleeting figures through the smoke, then dumped the rest
of his magazine at a steady pace through the trees to his own left, where he heard what
sounded like bodies rushing towards him. Crouching behind a tree and reloading as fast
as he could, he released the bolt with his left thumb and then reached into his shirt and
pulled out the first grenade. He bit the tape with his teeth, grabbing the end that he had
folded over to make untaping easier. He pulled it away, let it go, truned it, and bit again.
The tape was free from the grenade. He spit out the tape, let his rifle fall to its sling.
Grabbing the smaller piece of tape, he freed the pin, pulled it, and thew the grenade as
hard as he could to his right. Putting the tree between him and the blast, he readied
another grenade and threw it to his left. He rolled back and started firing back to where
Rhonda had been trapped. As soon as the second frag detonated, he took off at a run, his
chest pouch bumping against his chest, his lungs burning. He crashed through bushes and
bounced off of small trees as he fled the hail of gunfire that peppered the air around him.
Leaping over a small tussock, he heard crashing behind him. He dropped and rolled,
coming up behind the big rifle. Right in his sights was a Flectarn clad soldier with a G-36,
firing close enough in Daves direction that Dave took offense. He pressed the trigger and
as the rifle bucked he saw the figure crumble. He fired quickly at several fleeting shapes
in the brush, and readied another frag. Hearing the shouted commands, he released the
spoon, counted to two, and threw it far and high. The grenade detonated in the air near
the source of the shouted commands Dave had heard. With the blast, Dave was moving,
rushing to the rear in three second rushes, falling, rolling over, firing at running troops.
He prepped and threw his last frag to his right, where a German in Flectarn was firing his
rifle in long bursts toward Dave’s direction of travel. The man disappeared in the black
cloud of the grenades explosion, of wave of leaves and twigs filling the air. Dave rolled
to his non-firing side and rose. As he did, he saw another troop struggling to reload his
rifle. Dave took a flash sight picture and squeezed. The man flopped to the ground at the
same time Dave felt the familiar sensation of the bolt locking ot he rear. Spinning, he
rushed once more as his trigger finger released the magazine, which fell to the ground.
Dave’s other hand was at the same time grasping another magazine from his pouch. As
he felt his fingers grasp the 550 cord pull loop on the bottom of the mag, an appartition
rose from behind the fallen tree he was headed to. Clad in woodland camouflage, the man
held an M-249 SAW pointed just over Daves left shoulder. No time to reload, too far to
buttstroke, Dave decided he was history when he locked eyes with the ghostly figure.
“Get down!” the apparition said.
Dave awoke groggily at 11:45, Tony shaking him gently. “Dave, it’s a quarter ‘til. We’ve
got a problem, too.”
That got Dave’s attention. “What is it?”
“We keep hearing voices from the main trail. Kids and grown ups, a dog once. Rhonda
has a radio, she’s watching the way we came.”
“That’s good,” said Dave, lacing up his boots, “After I make radio contact, let’s make
sure the kids are ready to go quickly if we need to.”
Dave fished out his transceiver and listened at Noon. “Got your message” was all the
voice said. Then Dave heard the melody of Patsy Cline singing “Walking After
Midnight”. Dave smiled. He sure was. He listened to the song he liked so much, and then
repacked his radio. No brevity code, no alert song, no problems back at home.
After checking and re-packing the ponchos, Dave explained that he was going to look for
a better spot to camp, further away from the trail, as hearing the traffic they were, even so
little of it, was unnerving.
He gave Tony a running password, and with his canteen attached to belt loop via a
carabiner, reapplied camouflage cream to his face, and left the campsite. He moved easily
through the light underbrush of the old home site. He passed the old foundation, the cut
granite front step partially covered by a lilac bush, a remnant of forgotten dreams and
ambitions. Places like this usually made Dave melancholy, as he remembered the farms
of his youth now covered with asphalt, sod, and poorly constructed houses. He had no
time for reminiscing now, he was all business as he moved as if back on point in the
DMZ, every step a potential trip wire, every movement a potential enemy. He continued
for 20 minutes, finding a likely spot partially obscured by a large rock outcropping and a
large patch of briars, down slope from the old homestead . As he made his way back to
the family, he heard voices-loud voices. It sounded like a large group of people out for a
holiday or picnic. Dave hustled over to a fallen log and took a position behind it. He had
a fair view of a clearing that Dave assumed was once a barnyard in better times. He saw
them come into view one at a time. A dozen or more people, all carrying gaudily colored
packs, reds, bright blue, several of fluorescent orange. Dave recognized the cut. All the
packs were finest quality and popular with the urban hiker They were calling out to each
other in voices that echoed throughout the forest.
Dave cringed. He heard one call out “How about we stop here and have lunch?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” called a voice from the front.
The group met in the middle of the clearing, and Dave could see that they were armed.
AR-15’s with scopes, an HK-91 or two, a couple of what looked like Bennelli shotguns,
nothing low cost or second string, from a money standpoint. There were eight men and
male teenagers, all equipped with pistols in drop leg holsters. The entire group dropped
their packs and a group of them started to noisily collect firewood. One had a small axe
on his pack, a sleek affair with a black plastic handle. He started merrily hacking away at
a nearby standing Oak tree. Some of the women yelled to the men “How about some
rocks?”
“Yeah, sure”, rang a voice. Soon the group had a fire ring with a fire blazing in it, smoke
curling lazily to the clear, crisp Autumn sky. Dave had one thought ‘These idiots have a
death wish’. He remembered his friend Scott’s stories from when he spent three months
in Afghanistan fighting with the Mujihadeen against the Russians-any sign of camp fires
were often bombed from the air indiscriminately. If the U.N. Forces were actually
looking for stragglers and refuges, they could conceivably drop in heliborne troops to
investigate, or set up blocking forces, or just bomb them, which Dave didn’t think they
would do. Yet. He watched as the group below him, who Dave had Christened the
‘Knuckleheads’, started cooking their lunch. Freeze dried ration packages soon littered
the area as the ‘knuckleheads’ cast their trash aside with wild abandon. Dave could only
shake his head as he watched a few of them construct a makeshift shelter for a latrine.
One passed around a bottle of something Dave was sure wasn’t medicinal around. He
watched one check what must have been a GPS receiver and discuss the readout with
another. They were both pointing in opposite directions. Dave toyed with the idea of
making contact with the clown circus, but decided against it. Six extras were enough.
These people had no small children, and were making no attempt whatsoever at
maintaining a tactical presence. He felt no real obligation to them. Dave slowly low
crawled away from the party and almost silently made his way back to his concerned
wards.
“Dave, what’s going on?” asked a concerned Tony.
“A group of folks bugging out. Look like big money idiots from the city. Think they can
throw money at something and not need experience. I’d take you and your SKS over all
of them and $3000.00 pre bans any day.” Dave looked around. “Call Rhonda, let her
know we’re leaving. We’ll recall her just when we are ready to go.”
Tony woke up the kids, and they packed their kit quickly. A few of the kids had to ‘use
the woodline’, so to speak. After completing that, they called in Rhonda and rucked up.
Dave led them downhill, away from the party. They were off trail, and moved slowly and
carefully, seeking stealth not speed. Eventually they broke for a breather. Tony looked up
at the trees and said, ”Dave, how about this spot?”
Dave, sitting on his pack drinking from his canteen, looked around and said “Sure.” They
couldn’t hear the festival of all fools up the hill, and were under decent cover. Dave told
Rhonda and Tony that he would stand watch and they could feed the kids. Dave
mentioned the esbit stove they had captured from the Germans, and Tony smiled. “Hot
stuff for lunch?”
“Go ahead,” said Dave, “just no fun.”
Rhonda laughed, “Or you’ll scalp us?”
Dave grinned, “Yup.”
Dave took his pack a little ways up hill and laid his pack down. He took out the solar
charger and placed it in a sunny spot. Laying behind the pack, he remained alert for
unusual noises or out of place movement. He remained there for several hours, enjoying
the solitude of the place and wishing he was home and that things were normal.
Eventually, Tony came up to where he was. “Dave, you want a break?”
“Sure, Tony,” Dave whispered back. “How do you like the new rifle?”
“It’s nice, this thing probably costs more than my car.”
“Well, it’s no good of you can’t use it. Those idiots up there are going to get captured or
killed, all the fancy crap in the world won’t help them.”
Tony leaned into Dave, “How much longer, do you figure?”
Dave considered. “Three or four days, five at the most. We may be tight on food, but
once we get there we can get a ride. Where were you planning on going? Relatives or
friends?”
Tony looked away for a moment then back at Dave, “No, we don’t have anyone or
anything to go to. We just knew they would come for me, so we split. Kind of figured
we’d wing it when we got there. Staying out of jail was the first thing we was worried
about.”
Dave looked away. “Well, I can probably put you up for a bit, and introduce you to a few
folks. If you are as good a mechanic as you said the night I met you, you’ll have plenty of
work.”
Tony brightened, “That’d be great, Dave. That’s really good of you to do that for me and
the kids and Rhonda. But we still have to get there.”
Dave nodded. “There is that. Do you want to learn how to strip your rifle?”
“Sure.”
“OK, first, unload and clear it…..”
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Dave listened with rapt attention as Scott talked about the airstrike.
“We were on a hillside,” he said, his animated style of story telling keeping all eyes in the
bar locked on him, “and we were hiding in this cave. Well, these idiots we were supposed
to link up with were camped across the valley. We had met with them but I didn’t like the
look of them. They had rusty rifles and smelled like hashish. So I told Amir Khan that
there was no way I was spending the night with those pirates, so we climbed up the
mountain to a cave where we kept the missiles. So here we are, sitting in this cave,
shivering in the cold, and these doofuses have a big fire going like it’s bonfire day at the
beach. We’re talking to ourselves about the mission-we were gonna ambush a supply
column coming to relieve the fort we had under siege-and we hear a jet, way up high, out
of Stinger range. Then we hear whistling go past. Walid pushed me down and then
WHOOM!,” he yelled, splashing beer from his mug, his hands telling the story as much
as his words, “the whole freaking hillside across the valley goes up. Musta dropped a
whole load from a Frogfoot,” referring to the Soviet SU-25, loosely a copy of the
venerable American A-10, “We had stuff falling all over our mountain,” his eyes got a
faraway look. “Body parts, rocks, what was left of an RPK-74. Came down like rain.”
Everyone was quiet. Then he looked up, “And the next night the group I was with wanted
to build a frigging fire in the open! I said ‘What, are people nuts? Do you have any idea
why your pals across the valley got turned into martyr hamburger last night?’ and they
just looked at me. Inshallah, they said. God’s will. I told them God made them stupid, if
that’s how you feel. Half these guys are head and shoulders above any other guerilla
fighter in history, the rest are knuckleheads, 144% dumb*ss. The only thing is, they’re
beating the Russians.”
A blond from campus spoke up “Why are the Russians losing?”
“Two things,” said Scott, giving her the once over. Potential here, he thought, “One,
they’re using draftees who don’t want to be there and who’s only goal is to survive their
tour. The other is the ‘Ghanis are too stubborn to give up.”
While Daves mind drifted, events were stirring elsewhere. Back in New Hampshire, his
friends were listening to the radio. Most normal work was infrequent now, with society
holding its breath. Even in New Hampshire, where the power came from one nuclear
power plant and hydro power from Quebec, there was trouble supplying all of the needs
of industry. The pressure on the states that had declared themselves beyond the UN
mandates and oppressive federal government was substantial. Governors were alternately
threatened with prison and lengthy sentences and cajoled with empty promises of Senate
seats and more power. Fortunately real men and women of courage had emerged, as they
often do in crisis. Dave’ own governor was an example of this. Once criticized for being
wishy-washy on tough issues, he stood up to the Federal government on TV and declared
that he was not going to give up the citizens of New Hampshire and their God given
rights for all the power of God.
“I will no more sacrifice the precious liberty of the citizens of my state to the current
regime in Washington than I would to hollow mandates from the United Nations. Their
freedoms are not mine to sell, for any price. My oath as governor stated quite clearly that
my job is to protect the rights of citizens. I have no power to abrogate those rights, under
any situation or circumstance. The United States Government in Washington D.C. has no
more power to take away or curtail our rights to free travel, free association, or any other
blessing of Liberty recognized by our Founding Fathers than it has to sell oil rights on
Mars.
As of this morning, I have ordered the mobilization of the State Defense Force and the
militia. Right now we are calling for all male citizens between the ages of 17 and 62 to
report to their town halls, police stations, fire stations, state police barracks, former
National Guard armories, and other places to be announced locally, for enlistment in
militia companies. We would suggest that each person have at their disposal one firearm
of military utility. Lists of equipment needed are being developed and will be sent to all
towns in the state for dissemination. As of this moment I am declaring this state a gun
control free state. No citizen of this state is subject to any federal firearms law. The
General Assembly is right now passing a law invalidating all state laws concerning
firearms.
No peaceable person shall be debarred the right to keep and bear arms. Period.
Further, it has come to the attention of this office that there are a number of otherwise
peaceable people trying to reach our fair state to take advantage of our freedoms. We
welcome them with open arms. The representative of any agency interfering with the safe
passage of persons across out borders will be dealt with in the harshest possible manner.
I implore the President and our Congress in Washington D.C. to expel the foreign troops,
over 100,000 so far, that have landed in our country. Return our government to a sound
fiscal policy. Return to us our Constitutional Republic, that we entrusted to you and you
stole. We demand it. We will live that promise of freedom, whatever your mandates,
whatever price we must bear.
Our license plates bear a motto, and we will follow that promise- ‘Live Free or Die’. And
so we will.”
“Good night, and may God Bless the Republic, and the great state of New Hampshire.”
Dave’s group was in an uproar. Some wanted to launch attacks against the German troops
in Massachusetts immediately, some wanted to go to town and help organize the militia.
“We don’t need them,” stated Steve forcefully, “with all the training we’ve done we can
operate independently. Taking on a bunch of amateurs will slow us down and
compromise us. I vote for leaderless resistance.”
“I disagree,” said Jim, “ we need to develop an Army with coordination of effortdecentralized
for certain, but without coordination all of our effort will be wasted, effort
duplicated. No army has ever won a war without central leadership. Supply,
communication, support we will need soon enough, and we can’t do that alone.”
The debate continued well into the night. Eventually they decided they would offer their
services to the state, provided they could remain together as a unit. The first concern was
their families. They would go around and check to ensure they had enough food and fuel
to get through to Spring. They needed to inventory food, medicines, fuel, lamp oil,
female hygiene items, everything. Although individually against collectivism, they would
redistribute what they had amongst themselves for the sake of their families. They had
enough ammunition to fight the war alone, and the number of guns they owned between
themselves would have given UN weapons inspectors fits. But they were only 9. For now.
With the night, rested, well fed, and ready, Dave and his charges left the shelter of the
forest and again took to the trail. They made good time over the hilly terrain, as the trail
was clear and the path well traveled. They proceeded up the spur trail and again headed
north. They continued on this path for several hours, taking breaks as needed. The
children were bearing the march well, again better then Dave had a right to expect. He
hoped their fear of him didn’t manifest itself into hate. But, he reasoned, they had parents
that were, by all means, good and loving, and that went a long way too. Further than fear.
They cleared the second large hill, not quite in mountains yet, and out front Dave saw
something that made him stop in his tracks. A campfire, burning brightly, in the saddle
below him, off to the right. Apparently there was a clearing there, and people were
burning a fire, or all things. Dave would have bet it was those noisy clowns from the
early afternoon.
Dave decided to wait. He didn’t want to detour, but he didn’t want these rank amateurs to
draw fire, too. He called the group over to him, and laid it out.
“We can try to get past them quickly, or we can detour. But we’ll have to cut pretty far
out to get ahead of these folks. If we go past them we’ll need to push it 100% and still be
cautious as we can be.”
Rhonda and Tony looked at each other and nodded. “We’ll try to stay as fast as we can,
Dave. Right kids?”
A murmur from the children reinforced their Fathers word.
“O.K. Let’s make sure you kids stay with Mom and Dad. Tony, I’ll have a radio, as will
you and Rhonda. I’m going to go first, don’t try to keep up. When I get to the top of the
next hill I’m going to check it out, drop my pack, and come back for you guys to help.”
“Sure Dave.”
“If anything happens, I’ll call you. If it sounds like I’ve been taken out, we’ve been over
the maps, you can go north, you can defend ourselves. If I hear you in trouble, I’ll come
running. Don’t be afraid to drop your packs and run. You can survive without your packs,
so remember that.”
“We will” said Rhonda emphatically.
“Drink a little water, go if you have to, and follow me.”
Dave set out at a quick pace, trying to make time without sacrificing stealth. He was sure
he’d be up and back before the family reached the bottom of the saddle. As he progressed
towards the branch trail the must be there, for otherwise the clown posse wouldn’t have
made camp where they did, he slowed. He was glad he did as he saw lighter flare about
200 yards down hill from him. He dropped his ruck quietly and called Tony on the radio.
“Family Guy, it’s Boone” he called.
“Go ahead,” came the reply.
“I dropped my pack short of the saddle. Look for the luminous tape on the inside of the
frame, it should be facing you as you come down. There’s someone down here, I’m going
to check them out.”
“Roger” Tony answered tersely.
Dave entered stealth mode as he carefully made his way down the hill. He heard them
talking long before he got there, two voices chatting in the dark. He cautiously made his
way towards them, and took cover behind a convenient boulder.
“Hey!” he hissed. The voices stopped.
“Who’s there?” one called.
“A friend,” was Dave’s answer.
“Well come out, if you’re a friend.” He heard one man trying to sneak around.
“Tell your pal to stop trying to circle me and come out in the open and I will.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” asked the disembodied voice.
“You don’t. But if I wanted to I could have opened up on you instead of hailing you,
right?” replied Dave.
The voice seemed to be considering it. “Alright, Mikey, come out and we’ll see this guy,”
the voice called out after a minute.
Dave heard Mikey breaking brush and saw him come out onto the trail below him. Dave
took a deep breath and stood up. “Over here,” he called, his rifle pointing at them, safety
off, finger on the trigger. The two men had their weapons slung assault style but the
muzzles were pointed downwards as they approached him. Dave stepped towards them.
“Who are you?” asked the voice in charge.
“Just a wayward traveler, like you.”
“Where you headed?”
“Past you. I just want to go up the trail and no trouble.”
Silence. “We’ll need to check and see what we’re gonna do with you.” Came the reply.
“OK,” said Dave, I’ll wait here.”
The man spoke into a radio.
“Yeah, he just wants to pass b y, he says…..no, just a rifle…..I’ll see.”
“Where’s your pack, mister?”
“I left it up the trail.”
“He left it up the trail…..OK, hold on.”
“you military, pal? Boss wants to know.”
Dave answered “I was once, but now I’m just a citizen who wants to go home.”
“Where you from?”
“New Hampshire.”
“Hold on. Boss, this is Roger, he says he’s ex military and going home to New
Hampshire……I’ll see.”
“Who were you with?”
“I was with the 82nd Airborne, and tell your boss I’m getting tired of playing games.
Either let me pass or fight.”
“No need to get testy,” replied the man whose name was Roger, “let me tell the boss”
“No need,” said a voice from behind him. Roger whirled “Jeez, don’t sneak up on me like
that!”
Ignoring Roger and Mikey, the “Boss” walked straight up to Dave. “I’m in charge here.
What is it you want?”
“I want to pass here without your boys shooting at me.”
“You solo?”
“Right now I am.” Said Dave, not wishing to expose his group just yet.
“Roger says you were 82nd Airborne, that right?”
“Yes,” said Dave, his patience getting thin, “Infantry. Who the heck are you and why are
you blocking a public trail?”
“We’ll do what we have to to protect ourselves. Look, if you’re alone, you’ll be safer in a
group. Would you be interested in visiting with us? We could help you get north and we
could offer more protection than you have traveling alone.”
Dave answered quickly, “I’m only interested in passing here. What do you say?”
“If you don’t think we’re good enough…”
”I don’t care if you are all ex-Delta,” cut in Dave, “Can I pass or not?”
“Well, sure, it’s a free country.”
“I’m going to get my pack. I’ll be right back” said Dave. He trotted up the path radioed
Tony quietly that he was coming towards them. He found the family crouched around his
pack.
“I’m going back down. I’ll break squelch twice as a signal for you to come down the hill,
OK?”
“OK” answered Tony.
“I’ll explain it all when I can,” said Dave, “but for now, I need to move.”
Dave returned carefully, but his caution was unnecessary. The three man were still in a
cluster in the saddle. As Dave approached, the ‘Boss’ said “What’s your hurry? We have
a lot to offer. And we’re traveling in the daytime, it’s a lot easier to see.”
To which Dave answered “Are you going to let me. pass?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said the Boss, obviously put off by Davis brusque manner, “I was
just saying…/”
”Well, I have a family with kids behind me. They are going to pass here,” Dave broke
squelch twice, “in a minute. Please don’t disturb them.”
The Boss sounded bewildered, “I thought you were alone?”
“I was.” Said Dave. “But you took so long jawing that they caught up with me. They are
a little nervous, so just let them pass.”
Jus then the footsteps of the family sounded on the trail. Watching the three men to
ensure they made no moves for their weapons, Dave counted shapes in the
dark……3…4…5….6. After waiting a moment in silence, Dave said, “Let’s give them a
few minutes, and I’ll fill you in on something.”
The ‘Boss’ shuffled on his feet.
“I don’t know who you are or why you are bugging out, but you clowns are going to get
yourselves killed. You make too much noise when you travel. Your picnic this afternoon
was a lesson in how to be found. If you are fugitives or escaping, you need to quit
building fires, quit making noise, travel at night, and don’t put your security in the middle
of a trail!”
The Boss sputtered, “you don’t understand.;…”
“Oh, I understand, all right. I watched you clowns at lunch, big fire, chopping down trees,
and tonight I could see your fire from a mile away up the hill; it’s like a beacon saying
‘find me and kill me’ to anyone in a 15 mile area. You better think if you want to survive.
Good luck. You’ll need it.” And Dave turned and stalked off.
Chapter 14
Ideas are more important then guns. If we
wouldn’t let our opponents have guns, why
would we let them have ideas?
-Joseph Stalin, socialist
The next two days of travel passed uneventfully. They refilled their water several times,
from streams that flowed free and clear down the hillsides. Dave either treated all water
with purification tablets or used his filter. Even the most clean looking water could have
Giardia cysts in it. Away from treatment and modern medicine, diarrhea could kill, as it
did thousands of kids in the Third World every year.
Dave’s radio reports came in as expected, all was well at home. While scanning the AM
bands they heard the story of the Governors speech, and the Federal response, which was
to place more pressure on the state to accept foreign “securit forces”. Several other state
legislatures followed suit the next day with declarations of their own. The talking heads
from the mainstream media were calling for the removal of the politicians who had so
obviously lost touch with ‘the needs of the people’, not seeing it was they who had lost
that touch years before. All over America dividing lines were being drawn. As in the
period leading up to the Civil War of the 1860’s, this crisis had been brewing for years.
The difference this time was that half the country was unaware it was even happening.
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The American press, supposed bastion of freedom and truth, had long hence sold its soul.
Controlled by a handful of wealthy liberals, and guided at the newsroom level by bigoted
editors, the print media rarely offered more than a token glimpse of any viewpoint that
differed from their skewed world view. On the issues of gun control, abortion, child
rearing, homosexual ‘marriage’, welfare, taxes, and foreign aid, among other things, the
view from the pressroom was vastly different from the view where Mr. and Mrs. America
struggled to raise moral, decent families while being bombarded with bromides assailing
their values and views daily. The press couldn’t even see the irony in how they treated
the last war. Mention was never made of the complacency and outright support the
Muslim clergy in America gave to terrorists on our soil. American soldiers of the Islam
faith who attacked American troops, aided and abetted prisoners, and even gave
information to terrorists that allowed them to kill many more Americans were referred to
as if they were aberrations, each broadcast and article taking time to explain that these
people did not represent mainstream Islam. However as soon as an abortion clinic was
bombed, an outspoken homosexual activist was murdered, a strange sect was caught
starving their children, the perpetrators were depicted as being mainstream Christians,
typically White. Never was mention made that these people were aberrations, never were
their acts explained away, validated, or justified by a fawning press. When scandal
rocked the Catholic Church, the crisis led the headlines for weeks. Little or no mention
was made, however, on the fact that the majority of sex abusers were homosexuals. Don’t
want to offend the fairies, you know. Or maybe their ‘orientation’ wasn’t really a factor.
Straight folks do it to, they maintained, although they failed to provide any figures for
that claim. Better to destroy in institution of faith then offend perverts. When a male
‘couple’ kidnapped and molested a 13 year old boy, abusing him, killing him, and
encasing his body in concrete, little mention was made, again, of the fact that the abuse
was homosexual in nature. The story quickly faded to Section B, page 15. However the
ups and downs of celebrity love affairs were front page news for weeks.
During the first Clinton Administration serious questions about the finance of his
campaign, the Chinese connection, Lippo Group, his whoremongering and drug use, the
sale of secret documents by State Department employees, and a host of other scandals
were given word play then explained away, the party line never questioned. When he
bombed Afghanistan and the Sudan on the same day testimony was being given that
would implicate the President in perjury, the timing was not questioned. The press was
not only guilty of aiding and abetting, they were the enablers, covering up scandal by
giving legitimacy to every alibi or excuse, no matter how outrageous or unbelievable.
As the mainstream news media lost viewers, independent news organizations-‘the loony
right’ according to the same mainstream press-experienced a surge in their audience.
However the left wing activists and their well-oiled arapchek were effective in using the
courts to their end. Lawsuits for slander, liable, and defamation of character drained the
networks of money. The owners of said stations treated them as entertainment sources,
not news sources, which undermined the credibility of their stories and employees.
Eventually, members of the establishment left would not even appear on shows on these
networks. The establishment right, as was typical, had no solidarity against the left and
no real game plan to thwart the constant propaganda attacks and misinformation. In the
last few years before foreign troops landed on U.S. soil, invited by a sitting U.S.
President, it was only half jokingly suggested that the Republican Party was actually run
by the Demoncrats to give the American people hope that there were two parties to vote
for. Democrats supported abortion on demand, the Republicans abortion in some
situations. The Democrats supported almost all gun control, the Republicans only some
gun control. The Democrats wanted total control over Americas health care industry, the
Republicans only wanted to nationalize part of it. Oh, and Dear God if the press actually
called it ‘nationalization’. Too Soviet. They were ‘making health care available’.
Newspeak. Winston Smith would be familiar with they way things were being done here.
Hiding the reality behind a word. Gay went from meaning happy to meaning sodomite in
a generation. Making health care available replaced theft. Replaced nationalization.
Replaced slavery.
A large portion of America remained oblivious to what was going on around them. Like
the characters of a science fiction movie unaware of another dimension sharing space
with them, they swallowed the press’ lies, or simply tuned out the constant repetition of
lies, disconnecting from politics and policy, flotsam and jetsam in the tidal wave of
society. Blissfully unaware, they would bleat loudly and vigorously if the obvious were
pointed out to them. No time. Too busy cutting the lawn watching the game working to
pay taxes pay bills being lobotomized by prime time T.V. to really get involved. Not my
job, you know. My father was a democratrepublicanapathetic fool and I am proud to be
the same. You’re paranoid.
Others could read the writing on the wall. One only had to be a student of history to see
the road ahead. When the Roman Patrician class became too self absorbed to defend itself,
and the army filled with barbarians, Rome’s fate was sealed. How can a society endure
when it’s own citizens, who reap its rewards, care not enough to defend it? In America,
defense of the nation increasingly was viewed, by the establishment, as service one step
above abortion clinic bomber. Every sacrifice, every hardship, was denigrated at every
turn. The military was assaulted endlessly for the smallest mistake, the tiniest growing
pain. Any good the military did was screened by the dust cloud of anger thrown up by the
left. Most people had no idea what went on in the military, and had no concept of the
military’s good points or recent accomplishments. With the destruction of Americas
middle class, which was the real strength of the country, America was quickly being
reduced to just another socialist state, power being derived from the government owning
the fruits of its subjects labor. With the nationalization of health care, the standardization
of schools, the nationalization of utility services, and further expansion of the federal
government into everything from banking to trucking, the nation was fast slipping into a
mixture of socialism (where everything is owned by the state) and fascism (where
privately owned companies are directed by the state). And the American public at large
had no clue, nor did they care to.
The small percentage of the American public that did care was victimized by the press,
but their claims to this truth were dismissed as being frivolous whining by those not
concerned for ‘the greater good’. They were not being represented by their elected
officials. Well, we are a democracy, aren’t we? They were elected fairly, weren’t they?
The schools were not teaching the fundamentals. Well, they are trained educators. What
do you know about education? Home schooling? Parents aren’t qualified to do that, and
besides, it’s the states job to indoctrina…we mean teach your kids. Firearms? The
Founding Fathers didn’t mean assault weapons, they meant muskets. And besides, they’re
for the National Guard. Of course they didn’t mean hand cranked printing presses, too,
don’t be absurd. We control those, er, who was ever hurt by ideas, we mean?
As history demonstrates, you cannot for long suppress the free man. He will revolt, and
either be free or dead. Either is preferable to slavery. You can destroy him, you can even
enslave him. But as long as that spark of Liberty remains, imprinted deep in mans genetic
code, those who seek it will find it.
“By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under Liberty”-Massachusetts state motto
(ironic, no?).
Dave, Rhonda, and Tony were going over Dave’s topographic maps, discussing their
route for that evening.
“It looks like we’ll cross the border tonight, it’s about seven miles by the route we’re
taking.”
“Will it be guarded?” asked Rhonda.
“We won’t know until we get there,” replied Dave, “but we’ll continue as before, with
caution. I’ll walk point ahead of you, we’ll probably be pushing the range of the radios,
but it should give us enough of a cushion should I run into anybody.”
Rhonda and Tony’s heads nodded.
“Before we move I’m going to let my friends know we’re coming. They can meet us as
far south as they can go, maybe tomorrow we can ride the rest of the way in safety.”
Rhonda stated “That would be awesome, Dave.”
Tony nodded his assent, “I can’t believe we’re so close.”
They all reflected on the map. They had covered a lot of ground, given their situation.
The kids were holding up well. They had eventually decided that Dave wasn’t going to
scalp them, and had warmed up to him again, although at times it seemed they had their
doubts. But they had somehow adapted to keeping things as quiet as possible, and
suffered the nightly walks in silence. The weather was still bright and clear, chilly in the
daytime and cold at night. The further north they got, even at 10 or 15 miles a day,
brought them closer to cold weather and higher in altitude. They were glad to be ahead of
the cold weather that November would surely bring.
Packed and ready to go, the family, whose name Dave had only recently found out was
Antonetti, waited for Dave to send his radio transmission. Dave was sitting on his pack,
radio at his side, antenna strung up over a convenient branch. Using the code sheet he
was carefully composing a message to his group. Rechecking his work, he put away the
code and notebook, stowed his pencil stub, and picked up the radio.
“Angry Fellow 2-2, this is Minstrel 6-6, do you copy, over.”
Static.
“Angry Fellow 2-2, this is Minstrel 6-6, come in, over.”
A staticy voice answered, “Minstrel 6-6, this is Angry Fellow 4, go ahead, over.” Adding
the last two numbers meant they were not under duress. Under duress, or someone trying
to imitate his contact, would have used 2-2.
“Message follows, break” Dave let up on the key, and pushed a preset button, jumping to
another frequency, per their SOP.
“1-547-9-8-15-21-13-13-54-11-75-65-65-33-81-20, over”
“6-6, I copy 1-547-9-8-15-21-13-13-54-11-75-65-65-33-81-20, over.”
“That’s correct. 6-6 out.” Dave shut off the radio, and signaled Tony and his family to
move out. He then stowed the antenna, recovered his pack, and followed them into the
twilight.
Their movement would take them through the last few miles of the state park they had
laagered in that day. They followed another hiking trail for several miles. The further
they got from the main park the more unused the trail seemed. After crossing a barbed
wire fence into private land, they paralleled the property line, re-crossing the fence where
the property line ended. Once again in the woods, they had to break brush for just over a
mile to reach the next trail. Before reaching the trail they had to cross a road. Dave broke
squelch twice, meaning stop. He then broke it once and after a slow three count again. He
heard the family moving up to him fairly quietly. Dave and Tony leaned together so that
their heads almost touched. “Road ahead,” said Dave, “I’ll do it like before, I’ll go first,
check the road, cross and clear the far side, then let you know with three clicks. You
watch the road to you left, I’ll watch it to mine, Rhonda will escort the kids over.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Dave slowly approached the road, what he considered the most dangerous area to cross.
They had seen no sign of any police or troops in the woods, although there had been a
few helicopters flying over during the day. He stopped to listen. For five minutes he
listened intently, hearing nothing. One good thing about the gas crisis-not much false
alarm traffic. He cautiously approached the road, and lay down under the brush. Looking
up and down the road he saw nothing. Pushing off with his arms, he rose to his feet and
darted across the road, slowing before the far side shrubs and entering the wood line
slowly. He turned and dropped his pack, and listened again. Nothing. He explored the far
side, finding dark trees and silent plants. He keyed the radio, and returned to the road.
Shortly after, Tony appeared, he and Dave taking their positions, an adaptation of a
technique called “scroll to the road”. Normally the security would be relieved by the next
man in line, but tonight they would let the kids and Rhonda cross between them.
The kids crossed in pairs, Jake leading little Jennifer, then Rhonda, then Julia and
Carolyn. Giving them enough time to go into the woods about 50 yards, Tony ran across,
his pack flopping against his back. After he passed, Dave left the roadside and entered the
woods.
Recovering his pack, Dave again took the lead. They hit the trail after a half-hour of
tough going. Dave called a halt to drink and treat more than a few scratches on arms,
hands, and faces. They again took the trail as it curved around an old cemetary and then
climbed another hill. This one took them across a spur that gave them a starlit view of the
land beyond. “New Hampshire” Dave whispered. ‘This isn’t paradise, but you can see it
from here’ he mused. Quickly crossing the spur, Dave followed the trail down tot he first
of several steep parts, where the trail seemed to end abruptly at rock ledges. The trail
turned here, and the climb, up or down, was tricky. Dave lowered his pack down via 550
cord, and waited at the edge. Rhonda and the kids soon arrived. Dave pointed out the
danger, and had Rhonda move the kids off trail a little way. With Tony covering, Dave
made his way down the rock face and did a quick scout down the path a hundred yards or
so. Coming back, Tony lowered the families packs to Dave, who moved them to one side.
Tony then lowered Jennifer to Dave by both of her arms. Dave caught her under the arms
and parked her on his pack. “Stay right here, peanut,” he said quietly. “OK,” came her
answer in the dark.
One at a time the kids came down, then Rhonda, then Tony. Saddling back up, they again
headed down the trail, crossing several more ledges and drawing ever closer to their goal.
They were running out of dark when Dave conferred with Tony. “I had planned on
crossing into New Hampshire here. It’s about three miles, we cross a golf course, enter
farmland, and then yet another state park, this one just over the border. There’s a bird
sanctuary on the other side we can stay at if we need to.”
“Let’s do it, then,” said Tony, “we’re almost there.”
“OK, let’s go.”
Hiking up their packs for what they hoped was one last stretch, Dave led them around the
perimeter of the golf course, it’s once manicured fairways overgrown and mangy looking.
They crossed through the expansive backyards of several condoplexes, and followed a
dirt path into the woods behind the clubhouse. They saw no lights, heard no noises. They
didn’t even smell woodsmoke, which would have indicated habitation. The trail wound
through the woods, carrying them for a time next to a babbling stream that tumbled past
them towards the golf course. The trail wound steadily upwards, taking them up the last
hill and the crossover out of Massachusetts.
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Dawn was dimly approaching as they crossed the border on a level trail. Dave was in the
lead, and crossed by an open area on the right that was a parking spot for day-trippers and
bird watchers. The path was partially screened by trees and mountain laurel bushes, but
Dave still felt exposed. He quickly passed it and radioed Tony and Rhonda. “There’s a
parking area to your right, coming up. Hurry past it. Other than that it’s a clear shot.”
Dave heard them acknowledge, and switched his radio to their next frequency.
As Dave turned down the path, he heard a sound from the opposite direction. He paused,
then grabbed at his radio, shouting into it, “Tony, Rhonda, get off the trail! I hear trucks!
NOW!”
Tony’s breathless voice came over the radio “They saw us…two big trucks and …” the
sound of a machinegun firing drowned out Tony’s words. The bullets flew over Dave’s
head, some smacking loudly into tree trunks, the others whizzing through the boughs.
Dave dropped to the prone, facing the fire, unbuckling his pack even as he fell. He
quickly grabbed the two frags and the smoke grenade off of his belt and stuffed them
down his shirt. He heard another burst, this time from a small caliber automatic weapon.
He launched himself to his feet, calling out to his wards as he ran to the sound of the guns,
“Over here! Tony, Rhonda, kids, over here!”
Another burst of fire, up in the trees again, and the sounds of shouts in German. Dave
saw movement and brought up his rifle, skidding to stop behind a large tree. Carolyn and
Julia ran from the bushes like frightened rabbits.
They saw Dave, you yelled “Dump your packs and follow the trail. We’ll get you later.”
The girls shed their packs as they ran, and Dave turned his attention to the front. Jake ran
down the path, carrying Jennifer. “Follow the path!” Dave pointed. Jake nodded and
redoubled his efforts as more fire slapped through the trees. Dave again went forward as
he heard a long burst of fire from his direct front. He neither heard or felt any rounds
come near him, and charged forward. Breaking through bushes and coming again to the
path, Dave dove down next to Tony, who was reloading his G-36. “Where’s Rhonda?”
asked a breathless Dave. Tony pointed, “Right up there, behind a tree. She’s pinned.”
“I’m going left, I’ll hook around that way, so don’t fire to the left of her tree,” Dave
lowered himself and wiggled forward to have a look. More gunfire echoed through the
woods. “I’m going to throw a smoke grenade to the left, you throw yours to the right, as
far past her as you can. Get her out under the cover. I’ll come up behind you.”
“OK”
“Let’s roll,”
Dave and Tony both ripped the tape off of the pins on the smokes, and then quickly puled
them and threw them out, well past Rhonda’s tree. They heard another burst of
machinegun fire, and then the smoke started to obscure their view. More fire, rounds
whizzing over their heads. Dave did a quick rush to the left, and fired a few rounds, his
FAL’s deep boom echoing through the glen. Rhonda, not being a fool, started crawling to
Tony as soon as the smoke started floating back over her. Tony fired a few short bursts to
the right of her, even as Dave fired again from further left. Rhonda got up and ran at a
crouch to Tony, saying as she passed him “Let’s get out of here!” Tony fired up the last
of his magazine, turned, and ran after his wife.
Dave saw Rhonda crawling, and moved to the left again to try to draw attention away
from her. He fired a few shots at fleeting figures through the smoke, then dumped the rest
of his magazine at a steady pace through the trees to his own left, where he heard what
sounded like bodies rushing towards him. Crouching behind a tree and reloading as fast
as he could, he released the bolt with his left thumb and then reached into his shirt and
pulled out the first grenade. He bit the tape with his teeth, grabbing the end that he had
folded over to make untaping easier. He pulled it away, let it go, truned it, and bit again.
The tape was free from the grenade. He spit out the tape, let his rifle fall to its sling.
Grabbing the smaller piece of tape, he freed the pin, pulled it, and thew the grenade as
hard as he could to his right. Putting the tree between him and the blast, he readied
another grenade and threw it to his left. He rolled back and started firing back to where
Rhonda had been trapped. As soon as the second frag detonated, he took off at a run, his
chest pouch bumping against his chest, his lungs burning. He crashed through bushes and
bounced off of small trees as he fled the hail of gunfire that peppered the air around him.
Leaping over a small tussock, he heard crashing behind him. He dropped and rolled,
coming up behind the big rifle. Right in his sights was a Flectarn clad soldier with a G-36,
firing close enough in Daves direction that Dave took offense. He pressed the trigger and
as the rifle bucked he saw the figure crumble. He fired quickly at several fleeting shapes
in the brush, and readied another frag. Hearing the shouted commands, he released the
spoon, counted to two, and threw it far and high. The grenade detonated in the air near
the source of the shouted commands Dave had heard. With the blast, Dave was moving,
rushing to the rear in three second rushes, falling, rolling over, firing at running troops.
He prepped and threw his last frag to his right, where a German in Flectarn was firing his
rifle in long bursts toward Dave’s direction of travel. The man disappeared in the black
cloud of the grenades explosion, of wave of leaves and twigs filling the air. Dave rolled
to his non-firing side and rose. As he did, he saw another troop struggling to reload his
rifle. Dave took a flash sight picture and squeezed. The man flopped to the ground at the
same time Dave felt the familiar sensation of the bolt locking ot he rear. Spinning, he
rushed once more as his trigger finger released the magazine, which fell to the ground.
Dave’s other hand was at the same time grasping another magazine from his pouch. As
he felt his fingers grasp the 550 cord pull loop on the bottom of the mag, an appartition
rose from behind the fallen tree he was headed to. Clad in woodland camouflage, the man
held an M-249 SAW pointed just over Daves left shoulder. No time to reload, too far to
buttstroke, Dave decided he was history when he locked eyes with the ghostly figure.
“Get down!” the apparition said.