by Josiah922
Chapter 1
It was a great little farm on the backside of no where in the rural
Iowa. The area did not even have a formal name. People just called it
the Creel area. Creel it had been called because someone way back when
had the last name of Creel and settled here. There you go, nothing
fancy, just plain and simple. That is the way things were here.
Greg Bledsoe moved to the rural area after many years of living on the
East Coast. He grew up in this area and it was where he was returning
after a long lengthy life of fast pace living in places like Boston on
up to New York itself. Retired, done and NOT gonna work any more. Well,
at least not for anyone else. A small farm brought with it a certain
sense of pride. The work you done there was to live and provide and yes
he looked forward to THAT work.
His wife had left him a few years ago after the kids moved on to college
and he dove into his work. Greg forgot that most time spouses need more
attention when this happens, not less.
It was move in day and the U-Haul truck pulling a Chevy S10 turned into
the driveway. He stopped the truck and took down the “for sale” and
“sold” signs out by the road. A few moments later and the truck headed
on down the 100 or so yards to the house. He stopped the truck at the
house and looked through the envelope the lawyer had provided for the
key. It was then he noticed the car pulling into the drive.
The car drove up next to the moving van and two people exited the
vehicle. The first was a young lady in her late teens dressed in a type
of T length dress made of cotton with some lace. She softly exited the
vehicle smiling and, after helping the other passenger out of the car,
stayed quite and near the car. The second passenger was not so quite.
She was an elderly lady with a small basket in hand who started the long
lengthy conversation with Greg. “Hello there young fellow,” and the
conversation only sped up from there. After a few more moments of polite
chitchat the lady introduced herself as Maggie Winfrey. She welcomed
Greg to the area, invited him to the local church, talked about the
weather, inquired where he was from and started absorbing as much
information from Greg as she could with each question. It was then she
asked where his help was to unload the van. Greg had hoped to hire
someone but did not know where to even start to find help.
Maggie smiled, “Why son, just call the Cavalry.”
AJ Hinckley had owned the small corner store for only two years but he
quickly figured out the O’Keeffe boys were trouble with a capital T. As
soon as they walked in the door that evening one, about 13 years old,
walked to the rear of the store more looking down isles than looking at
merchandise. The other, about 17 years old, made his way to the candy
isle near the front. AJ was in the middle of ringing up a sale and could
not watch the boy every second.
AJ handled another customer paying for gas which was the only other
customer in the store and said “Come back again” as the customer exited
the door. The two boys headed for the front counter. Then the oldest
spoke, “Hinckley, how much money you got in there?” AJ’s heart skipped a
beat as he saw the glint in the boy’s eyes and noticed his right hand
in his jacket pocket.
“Well, that would be none of your business son,” said a man at the door
dressed in an OD green thin jacket, t-shirt, cargo pants and worn black
boots with the tale tale “C.A.V.” labeled on the boonie hat that covered
his head. He stood tall, but with his right hand behind his back under
his coat.
“No one called the Cavalry,” said the older O’Keeffe boy.
“Called us or not, here I am. How about you look around the store again?
Do you see those little globes here, here and there?” The man paused a
moment. “Those are the new security cameras that we installed for Mr.
Hinckley. Seems he keeps having candy go missing and these cameras can
run 24 hours a day covering every inch of the store. I am sure that we
will find out where they are going and I am sure the Sherriff might want
to know as well. Now do I have to have a talk with your Dad again or
are you finished here?”
The younger brother looked scared as the older brother gritted his teeth
as he emptied 4 snickers bars from his left pocket onto the floor. His
right hand clear his pocket too as he headed for the door. “Come on,” he
ordered to his younger brother.
The man spoke to the boys as they walked past. “You could go down to the
Buy-Low. I hear they are hiring a couple of part time bag boys.” The
older boy shuffled on past. After the boys had left AJ finally breathed
and turn to the man as he put down his money on the counter to pay for
his gas.
AJ said simply, “God bless the Cavalry.”
The man looked up from the boonie hat as he headed for the door, “God bless us all.”
Greg did not know what to expect. The man on the phone seem very
business like and very matter of fact. Greg had never heard of hiring
someone to work without money. Greg had offered $100 to the man to help
get the U-Haul unloaded, but the man immediately refused the money.
After talking in detail about what needed to be unloaded and a few
moments while he was on hold, the man came back with a counter offer of a
list of items.
20 gallons of diesel (we will provide containers)
50 lbs. long grain rice
Two wool blankets from the army surplus store
The lot actually cost less than $100 and was payable within three days. He thought it was a great deal.
Soon a four wheel drive green colored Suburban SUV with the acronym
“C.A.V.” on the side pulled into the drive and up to the house. Four men
exited the vehicle and one immediately walked to Greg with a smile and
handshake. The men were all dressed alike in pants and long sleeve shirt
in an odd camouflage pattern. “Mr. Bledsoe? I am Robert Jackson with
the Creed Area Volunteers. We are here and ready to get to help you
out.”
Greg shook hands with Robert as he said, “Well, glad to meet you.”
“First welcome to the area. Now, if you will just sit back and tell us
where you need everything to go, we will get you all set up.” The men
went right to work. They worked efficiently. Too efficiently. Greg
actually just started moving things to a room because he could not keep
up with the men moving everything from the truck.
They only took an hour to unload the whole truck. They even went ahead
and hooked up the phone, main tv (checking the antenna hook up), clothes
washer and dryer. Before leaving they did ask a few odd questions like
was he sure he had enough food and was his truck in working order. Greg
answered to the affirmative.
One of the men removed from the back of the SUV four 5 gallon fuel cans
and a large manila envelope. The other men sipped from canteens and chit
chatted quietly by the SUV.
Robert turned to Greg, “Mr. Bledsoe, if that is all you needed, here are
the containers for the fuel. As per our agreement we will return in 3
days for the fuel, rice and blankets. Here is also an envelope
containing a few things our Scouts have prepared. The boys get a kick
out of putting together little welcome packages. It contains a map of
the area (a few landmarks like churches, stores and farms have been
noted), a copy of the local paper, a book of $20 worth of coupons you
can use at the local Buy-Low Grocery Store and a pamphlet about the
volunteers. Don’t forget. You can always reach us on FRS frequency 9, CB
Channel 9, Ham local 10 Meter channel 28.411 MHz and at the phone
number provided on the back of the pamphlet.”
Robert shook hands with Greg again, “Sir is there anything else that you need?”
Greg could not believe the expertise and professionalism by which these men operated. “No, you have done more than enough.”
“Well, if you have an emergency or need help in anyway just give us a
call,” said Robert to the new arrival. It was exactly 3 days later when
Greg was doing just that as smoke and fire started to consume his small
barn behind the house.
Chapter 2
The nation was suffering. The economy was continuing on the decline that
it had over the past 2 years. Employment rate now over 13% for the
national average, national deficit just topped 20 trillion dollars and
the state budget was slashed 30% from two years ago. A knife blade’s
width separated the nation from an all out depression.
It was a small county commission meeting with very few in attendance.
The five county commissioners had been discussing the damaged bleachers
at Jefferson High School. The high school has serviced the Creed area
for decades and the aluminum bleachers had been there for most of them.
The fallen tree crumpled the already weakening section of bleachers and
the discussion was becoming more tense as everyone knew there was no
money in the budget to assist the school.
Finally the chairman, Mr. Helms, spoke the words everyone was expecting, “I am sorry. We just do not have the money.”
A man sitting on the fourth row looked up at the commissioner and nodded
when their eyes met. The commissioner spoke, “Chairman I would like to
call Mr. Robert Jackson to speak.”
The chairman rolled his eyes and looked straight at the man in the
audience, “We don’t need to hear from the Cavalry on this. WE govern
this county. We don’t have the money to fix the bleachers and if they
are fixed by some shade tree welders out there, it would not be up to
code and would have to be redone and fixed properly.” The 22 member
audience sat deafly still.
The first commissioner, Mr. Palmer, spoke again, “I make a motion to allow Mr. Jackson to speak.”
Quickly Mrs. Harris, the only female commissioner, spoke, “I second that
motion.” One other commissioner was already raising his hand in
affirmation of the motion.
Chairman Helms spoke, “OK, ok.” After a short pause, “Mr. Jackson, please setup up to the mike and say what you have to say.”
The man in the audience stepped up to the mike and began, “Mr. Chairman,
commissioners, and fellow citizens. I think all of you know me and know
that I am a man of my word.” There were nods from the audience as he
continued, “Well, you will then believe me when I say that this Tuesday,
Wednesday and Thursday I will be traveling to the other end of the
county and will spend the time hunting every day light hour that I can.
The Sheriff will also be joining me and if you have need to know where I
was during those hours, the Sheriff will be able to speak to that.
Thank you and good day.”
As Robert turned to leave, Chairman Helms asked, “You mean to tell me
that you addressed this commission to tell us that you and the good
Sheriff are going hunting?”
Robert turned back to the mike, “Yes, Chairman that is correct. That is
all I have to say. Good day.” Robert turned again to the door and left
followed closely by the Sheriff. Murmurs filled the audience as the man
left the commission chambers.
As they reached the parking lot the Sheriff asked, “Want to tell me what
all of that was about? Are you going to fix the bleachers or are you
going hunting?”
Robert smiled, “Yes.”
“Huh?”
“Charles, I said I would spend every day light hour hunting. I fully
expect to do just that with you this week out at the leased land. At
night … well that is another story. You know as good as I do that the
county does not have the funds to fix those bleachers. Just have your
men on the other end of the county all night and what happens happens.”
The Sheriff shook his head as he spoke, “Well, as you know the
commissioners have cut the Sheriff department’s budget by 30% this year
which means during certain times of the week I can only staff about 3
deputies for the whole county. I think that I will have only two on
staff those nights and I am sure that they will be way to busy with
legitimate calls to worry with mysterious happenings at the high
school.”
“Let’s talk later and schedule our hunting plans,” Robert replied as he climbed into the SUV.
The Sheriff shook his head and smiled. “Oh we are gonna do some hunting alright and those birds are all mine too.”
Funny thing about fire is it is a lot like a living thing. It breathes,
eats, reproduces and affects its surroundings. Technically there are
only three things needed to make fire: oxygen, fuel and heat. But
sometimes it takes on a mind of its own where it becomes just plain
mean.
The heat gathered off of the shorting wire in the junction box in the
barn. Most times the junction box was only charged for a few minutes
while Mr. Bledsoe was in the barn, but tonight a simple lack of
concentration by leaving the light on that was fed from the junction
box. The heat grew and grew. The aged wood around the box got warmer and
warmer. The bits of hay dust that had settled into the cracks also
began to heat. Then with a simple spark a small flame was born.
The light flickered into the living room and Greg noticed the flames
after reaching the window trying to find the source. He hadn’t made sure
that 911 worked here in the area, but he tried it anyway. The phone on
the other end rang and a female voice answered back, “911 what is your
emergency?”
“My barn is on fire!” is how the conversation started. After a few more
moments he said that he was new in town and did not know who to call;
then he described the fire, confirmed he was in no danger and gave the
address.
“Sir you are in the Creel area is that correct?”
“Yes.”
A slight pause came over the phone then, “Well, they are already
dispatched, but it will take about 20 minutes for the nearest county
department to reach you.” Then in almost a whisper he heard, “Have you
called the Cavalry?”
Greg’s eyes crinkled, “No. Should I?”
“I would,” came the response. “Do you have their number?”
“The Farm” it was called by its inhabitants, but it was much more than
that. It was true that they grew a large amount of food on the 200+
acres, but it also had several homes on the acreage where several key
families lived. The Farm was asleep. Night had come.
The night was quiet at the Coms desk. Adam sat at the desk doing his
college work and of course listening out for the watch at the LP/OP as
well as the other radios at the desk. Each radio monitored its assigned
channel and was attached to an external antenna on the tower beside the
main building. Also on the desk was a cell phone base that charged the
cell phone it held. The cell phone, that at this point in time, began to
ring.
Adam picked up the phone and spoke with the individual on the other side
for a few moments. Then while still on the phone he reached a small
panel on the side of the desk and flipped up the cover that protected
the switches underneath. Adam reached and pushed the button number 4.
Immediately in the 6 different homes on the farm a buzzer alarm sounded 4
short buzzes.
The intercom sounded the description as Adam spoke into the mike,
“Signal 101 Barn. Greg Bledsoe’s Farm. Flames Visible. Not Life
Threatening. County Fire already dispatched….Repeat…. Signal 101 Barn.
Greg Bledsoe’s Farm. Flames Visible. Not Life Threatening. County Fire
already dispatched.”
Three men were now running toward the multi car garage. As soon as he
entered, Robert punched the “up” button for door three. The second man
through the door ran to the 5 year old Ford F550 Crew Cab, detached the
trickle charger to the batteries and fired up the engine. As the engine
idled the men moved swiftly, they were in full fire turn out gear in
under a minute. Seconds later the Turbo Diesel truck with the 400 gallon
tank of water and 20 horse power water pump pulled out toward the front
gate.
Robert picked up the radio mike and called, “Coms we are 10-84 to the Bledsoe Farm.”
“Front gates opening.” Unseen eyes at the LP/OP focused on the main gate until it closed behind the truck leaving the farm.
Time crawled as it always did when excited. The driver fired up the pump
engine as they traveled down the road. It would be warmed up and the
pump fully primed by the time they got the farm only a couple of miles
away. The yellow warning lights on the top of the truck winked the light
continually around the truck. Except for the roar of the engine the
truck moved quietly down the road with no auditable warning. It did not
matter. At this time of night the traffic would remain light and they
would make good time.
Moments later they pulled into the Bledsoe Farm. They parked the truck
within hose distance, but out of the main driveway. A large custom cab
fire engine belonging to the county would be there in minutes and they
would need the room. The drive also positioned the truck within hose
distance of the house.
Flames were visible. However, it was not fully involved. There was a lot
of smoke, but only a good steady fire was on the inside. Robert thought
in hind sight that the hay in the first stall had caught fire and was
rather large, but it quickly had burned most of the fuel. It had burned
the sides of the wall of the barn, but because the core of the fire was
cooling because of lack of fuel it was only slowly starting to consume
the wood of the wall.
Four hundred gallons was not a lot of water, but put in the right spot
it could definitely buy some time. “Pull the 2 inch preconnect! Attack
the core of the fire. Right there….in the first stable.”
The nozzleman was pulling the preconnect off the truck and yelled through the mask, “But what about the walls?”
“Secondary! Attack the base and cool this fire down! Buy some time!”
“Sir!” both of the men said as they grabbed the hose and moved toward the fire.
Smoke billowed from the barn as the water cooled the embers that it
touched. The fire had diminished greatly and would take several minutes
to build back to the intensity of before. Four hundred gallons goes
quicker than you think and there was no way that it would handle the
entire fire. However, the fire had diminished and the last few gallons
ran through the nozzle as the sirens came into ear shot.
Within a few more moments the county fire department was in full swing.
The commander shouted the orders, “Two inch preconnect on nozzle crew!
Have the tanker put the drop tank here. Get to it boys. Put the wet
stuff on the red stuff!” The commander turned his attention to the
volunteers, “I suppose I have the CAV to thank for this NOT actually
being a flashover by now?”
Robert smiled a shook his hand, “Just keeping her cool for you TBone.”
“Hey that is Commander TBone to you,” the man said smiling back. “You
guys out of water?” Robert nodded back. “Hook up to discharge two on the
pumper. Keep the house cool and stand by as RIT.” TBone immediately
started shouting orders to the tanker driver, “Not there. Closer to the
pumper….”
After another 15 minutes the barn was extinguished except for a few hot
spots. The county crew worked on those over the next few minutes. The
CAV stayed until both teams were packed and ready to depart. As they
were silently driving home nursing tired muscles and sipping water to
cool down, one of the radios (the CB radio) in the truck squelched to
life, “County Coms to CAV. County Coms to CAV. Relay from County Engine
3. Relay from County Engine 3. Thank you for the assist. Thank you for
the assist.”
Robert picked up the mike, “CAV to County Coms. 10-4. Don't let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do. CAV out.”
Chapter 3
Maggie Winfrey waved to the SUV as it pulled down the drive. Her and her
grand-daughter sat on the porch till the Suburban pulled next to the
diesel powered 1985 Chevrolet Impala.
The two men exited the vehicle. Robert grabbed the rice and quilts out
of the back seats and walked up to the porch. “Hello Mrs. Winfrey. How
is my favorite neighbor?” The other man started unloading the gas cans
out of the back.
“Hello Robert. Come on up here. I got your seed ready,” Maggie answered.
“Sam, go ahead and bring that up here to the porch so Mrs. Winfrey can see that the cans are full.”
Mrs. Winfrey poked a finger at Robert, “Why Robert Jackson you act like I don’t trust you. I know you would never cheat me.”
“Mrs. Winfrey, part of the reason people trust me is that I deal fairly
and do not allow a deal to have even the slightest chance of dishonor.”
Robert smiled, “Please, for me, will you please count the cans?”
“I can see that there are 4. Come sit by me and talk while Sam puts two of them in my car.”
“Thank you Mrs. Winfrey. Here is a bag of rice and 2 nice wool blankets
for you and your grand-daughter as well. Winter will be coming along
soon and it might keep you a bit warmer. We are needing you to get the
word out about something for us,” Robert ended. Maggie instructed her
Grand-daughter to take the things inside and get the seeds for Robert.
Sam added 10 gallons of the diesel to the car and the other 10 gallons
to containers at the garage in back of the house.
Mrs. Winfrey gave Robert the latest local grapevine news and Robert in
turn told her of more national matters. She was the queen of the CB
Radio and kept everyone informed of most everything local to the area.
She had also been a HAM operator for over ten years and ran the only 2
meter repeater in the area. The local HAMs paid a yearly due to her to
use the tower and repeater for their rag-chewing.
The local newspaper was a rag. It was simply a place to advertise. The
local news coverage was less than adequate and the national news was so
old by the time the weekly paper was delivered it was not worth reading.
Mrs. Winfrey was the next best thing.
Maggie almost turned white when Robert mentioned the reports of UN blue
hat troops on “training exercises” at the US Army Reserve Center and US
Defense Department in Des Moines. There were more and more of these so
called “training exercises” all over the country after the government
had cut the defense budget and the UN had sent troops to “assist” when a
terrorist attack on Los Angles took the lives of some 2000 people.
“Mrs. Winfrey we are on the brink of all out depression and
hyperinflation. There are some that think the Blue Hats are here to help
secure the collateral of other nations. Don’t be surprised if they
start patrolling the streets or something worse. Just make everyone
aware of their presence right up the road and to be prepared. When it
happens it will happen fast.”
Mrs. Winfrey sat for a second in silence, “I will get the word out for
you Robert. Hold my hand and pray with an old lady for the good of our
country.” Robert smiled and knelt before the elderly lady holding her
hand as she offered intercession for a country gone astray.
Robert was right that it did happen fast. Within two months depression
kicked in. The DOW was just over 3000. People were being laid off from
their “in town” jobs or those businesses were just closing their doors
left and right. The government was shutting down all sorts of services
in order to save money.
The majority of the military was discharged, stationed overseas or in
conflicts with other countries. However, the UN peacekeepers were now
being used during episodes of civil unrest and “terrorist” displays. Of
course, the civil unrest was mainly people standing in line during the
food shortages and the “terrorist displays” were people participating in
protests around the country voice their opinions against the
government.
Within a weeks time Robert started hearing news in regards to these UN
forces helping to take into custody certain people who might cause
trouble and certain assets to be used for the “good of the people.” Up
state there were reports of larger farms being confiscated.
It was only a matter of time before 2 armored Norinco 6x6 wheeled APC’s
and 2 troop carrier trucks showed up at the CAV headquarters. They
parked their transports to the rear behind the APC’s and the infantry
units, about 30 in all, formed up behind the APC’s just outside the Farm
perimeter. The 30mm cannons on the APC’s looked formidable.
The officer, First Lieutenant Tien, was told that the 10 men and their
families of the CAV were waiting patiently while Robert talked with
their officer on the phone. The man spoke with an Asian accent, but that
did not bother Robert more than the content of what he was saying. In
short the CAV was judged as being a militia, and was deemed a “threat”
and illegal. All of their property was to be turned over to the State.
It would be used to help ease the burden on county services since new
people more trustworthy were being hired to take over. Refusal would
mean immediate detaining of every member of the CAV and the officer
reminded Robert that they were out numbered 3 to 1.
Robert answered in the words of Thomas Jefferson, “Honor, justice, and
humanity, forbid us tamely to surrender that freedom which we received
from our gallant ancestors, and which our innocent posterity have a
right to receive from us. – Do what you will Lieutenant.”
The APC’s revved their engines and rammed the dual cattle gate at the
front of the property. The chain that held the gate strained then
snapped. The two APC split up, one cutting toward the main house around
the debris and stopping in the clearing in front of the house. The other
took a defensive stance at the main “barn” in good position to cover
the houses. Infantry units fired at the LP/OP position and the solitary
figure that moved around the steel boxed tower. Bullets ripped through
the walls of the post and undoubtedly ended the life of the CAV member
within. No fire was returned from the LP/OP. The main house was
surrounded and with the stance at the “barn” the other smaller houses on
the property were covered well.
“CAV militia members. Buy the power invested in me, I order you to
surrender yourselves at once or we will open fire,” said the Lieutenant.
Silence grew as the time passed by. The order was given and the group
opened fire. The 30mm cannons opened up on the houses and the riflemen
began firing away. The noise was enormous as the explosions of rifle and
cannon continued for several minutes. It was then the order was given
to halt.
The secluded eyes watching from the fields burned intently at what
happened. They had come when the word went out like the Cavalry of old.
They wanted to see for themselves what happened. They let the sight sink
in. The eyes were young, old, male and female. It was not their homes
that were damaged, but they just might as well have been. If they can do
this to the CAV, they can do this to us. The people knew what to do. It
was decided and the finality of it was intently swelling from within.
It was then in the silence the one soldier noticed the figure in the
observation post still moving and the slight weirdness of its movement.
Almost mechanical the shape turned and moved. The counterfeit guard was
then discovered and the soldier turned to his commander.
The ordnance exploded from the iron pipes placed vertically in the
ground beneath the two APC’s. The combination of steel and gasoline
filled in on top of the ordinance killed several. One APC was totally
disabled. It was then that the true militia opened up.
From camouflaged positions in the fields men of ordinary disposition
took on the brow of conflict and joined their weapons to that of the CAV
members shoulder to shoulder. For the militia is not just one group,
but every person that in endowed with the right of liberty by their
creator. Weapons that were used to defend homes and hunt were now called
to action on the field of battle. The conflict was short.
Like their forefathers before they protected their land and their lives.
As the shots rang across the farmland that day, the words spoken
earlier in the secret town meeting came to the thoughts of most
involved, “We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will
always be prepared, so we may always be free -- Ronald Reagan.”
***
The end
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