by T I WADE
General Patterson then introduced the President of the United States, the last to speak.
“Thank you to all for a job well done,” he started. “Members of the military and civilians, we are about to enter the most productive cycle of 2013, our spring planting season. Reports into the White House from around the country estimate there are over 300,000 large-acreage farmers on millions of acres of prime farm land, working together with five million civilians and 200,000 soldiers as protection squads. We have literally sourced every seed, plant and animal we can into maximum production for the coming spring and summer. With estimates on population numbers changing daily, we expect to be able to feed millions of people within two months from these farms. We have the distribution and food points in place. We know that millions more are small farmers or new communal farms where groups of people are getting together to plant crops for themselves. Our numbers of this second group are vague but we believe that enough food will be grown to feed America.
“A second season of summer/fall crops is already in the planning stage, and planning for winter storage is on the docket. On hundreds of farms across the country, every piece of plastic sheeting from central warehouses like Home Depot, Lowes and greenhouse specialty companies is being used to build acres of greenhouses and hot houses for the coming winter. We hope to have over 100,000 new acres of winter food grown in these houses during the coming winter months. Crime is now our biggest problem and the military and I are going to work out a plan to setup up new community police forces and judicial systems, using county-sized areas of land. I need help forming a new Congress and Senate and we will do so in the summer. We have enough gas and diesel fuel reserves to last approximately five years at our current usage. We have over 10,000 engineers, mostly on the West Coast, working on new developments. Unfortunately it is too early to give you dates of when projects will become active. I’ve been told that the national grid will take at least a decade to get going again, and that is only in the areas where we are planning to house our population. We have information from Mr. Wang about a cache of working electronic parts in Harbin, China and we will be going in to get them. I do not have any more information on that mission yet. It is time to reinstate law and order, stop gangs, stop all the killing, get our numbers into a census and begin to rebuild. The good news is that we cannot go any faster than what we are doing at the moment. So, I thank you all for your work, and I would like the next official meeting of the New United States of America to be at the White House on July 1st, three months from now. By then we should have buried our dead, know our population numbers, have enough food, and will begin planning what our next efforts will be. Thank you.” General Patterson returned to the podium and asked the President to stay.
“Who says that in these dire times, we humans can’t have a bit of fun?” continued the general. “So please, will current Air Force Captains Sally and Jennifer, and future Captains Martie, Maggie, Barbara and Pam come up to receive your Air Force Insignia for the latest Wing of the United States Air Force. Ladies and gentlemen, the President will hand out flight overalls and wing insignia for “The Super Tweety Pie Wing” of newly painted Super Tweets under newly promoted Wing Leader, Captain Carlos Rodriquez.”
For once there were smiles as the six girls stood up and walked forward. “Come on, Wing Leader Rodriquez,” added the general. “It’s not every day that a man is given command of so many good-looking female pilots.” There was much laughter and wolf-whistles from the audience as one by one the pilots received their flight overalls, the usual Air Force issue, with the new insignia already on the shoulders.
Carlos also received his set and an official military photograph was taken of the new wing with the President and General Patterson in the photo.
“Many of you pilots still need hours of training, including the Wing Leader himself,” continued the general. “This will be done at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base until the wing can be stationed at our new airfield in Apex, North Carolina. Many of us are heading that way later today and the Super Tweets will be flown down by qualified Air Force pilots for the occasion. The aircraft are now on display outside. Thank you for coming. The next meeting is at the White House, July 1st.”
Chapter 17
Manuel Calderón and Mexico
The two Calderón brothers met up and joined forces at a good ambush point on the road. The third brother, Pedro, was hundreds of miles to their south at the Panama Canal and unable to help them with their main army.
They had continuously and systematically picked up men everywhere they went, but the last two battles reduced their force of 3,000 men to nearly 2,000. Both Calderón groups had amassed captured weapons and ammunition from the defeated Mexican forces and had then ransacked everything they could from the destroyed Mexican bases. The 2,000-plus men prepared for the arriving Mexican army.
Unknown to them, the Mexican army also had new men arriving from all directions as they chased the banditos. It had taken time, but a spotter plane finally arrived overhead to give the Mexican troops eyes on their fast-paced race southwards. Over the last 24 hours 2,500 men had joined the 4,000 men who had survived the last battle where they had been ripped apart by the unexpected heavy bombardment from whomever they were chasing.
The army commander had been told by radio that another 5,000 men were on their way from the northern areas and would join them in a couple of days. With an army of over 10,000 men he felt confident that he could destroy the remnants of the southern banditos he was chasing.
The Colombian spotters up on the hills were the first to hear the faint sound of an approaching aircraft. The alarm was given and even though they were in southern Mexico, there was enough vegetation to hide the vehicles. Tire tracks were obliterated and men on the open sand dunes got under beige-colored tarps, or just dug into the sand with their camouflaged clothing.
Ten minutes later a “brave” Mexican pilot flew down the highway towards them at a high altitude of about 10,000 feet. If the pilot had flown lower, the two spotters in the aircraft, a Cessna 210 military aircraft, might have seen something, but they were taking no chances on this southern flight. Their plan was to head south and then return north at a lower altitude once they got a hundred miles south of the advancing Mexican army.
The Calderón brothers watched as it passed overhead. They were pretty sure that they wouldn’t be seen, but also assumed that this would not be the last aircraft overhead. They were always prepared for this in Colombia; the Colombian Air Force continuously sent spotter aircraft to look for large groups of people out of place on the ground below them. The Calderón Cartel always carried camouflage blankets, sand-colored and green, to protect them from the air. Most of their Colombian vehicles had camouflage materials for aerial surveillance and the captured Mexican vehicles were already camouflaged, many equipped with extra camouflage netting.
“Alberto!” shouted Manuel Calderón to his younger brother. “Get three men with shoulder rockets loaded with ground-to-air rockets on the highest hill, a mile to our south over there,” he said pointing to a hilly region. “Take the three shoulder rockets we captured at the last Air Force base. If this aircraft or any other aircraft comes close at a lower altitude, I want it shot down.” Alberto acknowledged the order and shouted at three of his best men to take a helper each and head for the hill.
The ambush was set twenty minutes later, two lines of men behind dunes well over a hundred yards from the main 190 north/south highway and about 150 miles south of Mexico City. This was a sandy area, but had a reasonable amount of vegetation for the invaders to hide from air surveillance. The hilly outcrops were higher than around the last ambush site further north and the grounds on both sides of the highway flatter and more open.
Manuel thought the last ambush by the Mexican Commander on his troops was amateurish and had lacked military expertise. The Mexican troops had been placed too close to the road; so close, in fact, that the ambushed force on the highway were able to charge the
ambushers very quickly. Here, there was a hundred yards distance on each side, very few would survive charging that distance with lead raining down at them, and ambushers would be shooting downhill to the road from a height which made sure that they wouldn’t kill each other.
All went quiet as they waited for the rapidly moving enemy to close in on them. Manuel’s radio operators were searching for the frequency the spotter plane was using and they heard the aircraft returning very low twenty minutes later as they found its broadcasting frequency. Manuel heard the pilot radio to the ground forces that he was about seven miles ahead of the advancing army.
Three ground-to-air rockets went up to meet the small plane several seconds later, two missing but one causing an aerial firestorm several hundred yards south of his ambush position. Manuel suddenly realized his new predicament, and his big mistake.
“Mierda, Mierda!” he muttered to himself. “Now they will be looking for us,” he stated over his radio to his brother. “Alberto, form a line of your men to defend your northern border and I’ll do the same in case they spread out and attack us on our northern boundary.”
Men moved into position and they got ready for the mother of all battles. Once this Mexican army was defeated, Manuel and his troops would have an open road to Texas, where he really wanted to be. He should have just continued north, but being an experienced commander, saw the need to gather his forces together. Pedro was still days behind them somewhere in Panama and his plans to attack America might have to be put on hold for a few weeks. He supposed that there really was no rush; he envisaged that America was in total disarray, and time didn’t really matter anymore.
For the rest of the day they waited. A second spotter plane flew overhead just before dusk and at such a high altitude would see nothing. The army should have reached him by now, but it hadn’t and his surprise might be thwarted, but he stayed in his position just in case the Mexicans thought that he might still be traveling south.
Nothing happened the next day either and he was getting worried.
“Where is that yellow bunch of cowards?” he stated to his brother over breakfast on day two. “Alberto, send a few men north, not along the road, and find out where these soldiers are.” Alberto sent out five of his best men and they returned just before dark. It had been a hot day and most of the afternoon they dozed in the shades of trees and tarps which took away the broiling heat of the sun.
“They are camped about four miles north of us,” stated the leader. “About 4,000 men and they seem to be waiting for something. They don’t seem to be in a rush to fight us, Señor Calderón. Maybe we should put a spark of fire under their fat butts and let them chase us into our ambush?”
“I don’t think they have a battle-tested commandant,” stated Manuel to the men. “Let us wait until dawn and then attack them with a group of a hundred men. Make them angry and hopefully they will chase our guys down the road. Alberto, take a hundred of your men in twenty jeeps with guns, mortars and rockets to them and attack their southern boundary with a killing rain of fire. Shoot off the mortars and rockets first, and then sweep in with the jeeps to machine gun them and immediately retreat like a yellow village dog with its tail between its legs.”
The early morning darkness was chilly as the jeeps, filled with men and weapons, headed north on the 190 as quietly as they could. During the night Manuel and Alberto had picked the jeeps with the best exhaust silencers. They should get to within mortar range before being heard. The army naturally would have guards out, but several Mexican civilian vehicles had passed through their position during the last twenty four hours, not realizing that there was a large group of hidden men watching them pass.
Manuel reckoned that the Mexican army would have a road block either side and told Alberto to silently take out all enemy soldiers until they got within range.
Alberto’s jeeps crept northwards at five miles an hour, trying to keep as quiet as possible still under the cover of darkness. His scouts from the previous day told him that they were within half a mile of the camp. He stopped and a dozen men with sharp knives went forward through the brush to find a road block with Mexican soldiers in different forms of sleep. One man was literally sleeping standing up with his head on a tree trunk they had built as a roadblock. The main gun position was positioned behind a row of sandbags a couple of feet high, a hundred feet behind the roadblock. Their blood ran down the road as they were quickly dealt with. There were also two good-looking jeeps to increase their vehicle numbers.
Once the roadblock was dealt with, he and his scouts moved forward on foot, using all the cover they could. There was a growing band of light on the eastern horizon and they only had several minutes to use what was left of the darkness as surprise.
They crept up a second rise of sandy ground, reached the top, looked down and saw a large army camp spread out a couple of hundred yards away. It was within mortar range and he sent a scout back to tell the men to drive the jeeps quietly to the first rise and then haul the four 80-mm mortars by foot the last couple of hundred yards.
Alberto could hear the convoy of jeeps creeping forward and he doubted that the sound would travel much further than where he was. Now the sky was lightening as he saw silhouettes of teams of men hauling the heavy mortars, four men to a mortar, with several bringing up cases of bombs behind them.
They were set up. His best mortar men aimed into the most densely tented areas as the sun lit up the higher hills for everyone to see. There were guards walking around and he scanned the terrain around his position. He couldn’t see any enemy soldiers any closer and his second-in-command whispered in his ear that the mortars were ready. He ordered his men to ready the dozen shoulder rocket launchers he had brought and waited for this second group to prepare.
The sun’s highest edge rose over the horizon as he brought his right arm down, signaling the attack to begin. The quiet around him was broken by mortars and rockets being propelled out of their tubes. Alberto had whispered orders for 12 bombs per mortar to first lay a deadly barrage of fire and then his rocket launchers fire a volley of six rockets per launcher. There were screams of orders from the camp as soon as the first hisses of bombs leaving the tubes were heard. Suddenly, and with the first eight mortar bombs in the air, there were men running everywhere as the first four bombs hit in a pattern at the same second, spewing men and tents in every direction. More mortars went into the smoke and dozens of explosions ripped the quiet scene into pandemonium.
Within three minutes 48 mortar bombs and 72 rockets blew several areas of the large camp to pieces. The damage was relatively small for such a big camp but men could be seen running in all directions out of the danger area.
“Get the machine-gun jeeps forward, the others pick up the mortars and give them a good reason to want to follow us!” screamed Alberto into his radio mike and five jeeps with machine guns rushed forward towards the camp. The rest of the jeeps were driven forward to collect the mortars and launchers and as the jeeps spun around to face south the men piled in their heavy equipment and climbed aboard.
Alberto, viewing the pandemonium below him, suddenly saw a convoy of old armored vehicles and two tanks come over and down the rise of the road a mile away, north of the camp and it didn’t take long for two of his five machine gun-equipped jeeps to become pieces of twisted hot metal as the tanks blew them to pieces.
“Get all our jeeps out of here! I want two teams of rocket launchers to reload and take out those tanks!” Alberto shouted as something landed several feet from where he lay. He instinctively ducked as the shell blew a couple of men to pieces. The tanks still couldn’t see the enemy but they had figured out where they were.
“We checked the area north of the camp last night!” shouted a scout over the radio. “There was nothing there last night!”
“Everybody get out of here! Take those two Mexican jeeps! Let’s go!” Alberto shouted as a second shell from one of the tanks landed several yards behind him and blew a small tree to pie
ces.
He had certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest, but didn’t see the 5,000 troops which had just arrived an hour earlier still behind the northern rise and ready for travel.
They drove with pedals to the metal out of the area. The enemy was still firing blind and they roared over the next rise before another tank shell landed in the rocky outcrop to their left, sending shrapnel-sized rocks in every direction.
“Manuel, Manuel!” shouted Alberto over the radio as a piece of rock whistled passed his ear. “They have dozens of armored carriers and two tanks. There is no way we can fight that many.” He heard a small propeller aircraft fly overhead. He watched it follow the road until it was taken out a couple of miles south of them by Manuel’s rockets. It literally flew into a barrage of ground-to-air rockets.
“Everybody get into vehicles, we are heading for the border!” shouted Manuel into the radio “I need all the rocket launchers we have here and their missiles.” His men scampered into all the remaining vehicles they had. Some of the captured Mexican trucks had forty soldiers in them and were pulling full fuel tankers behind them as they left camp; they would not be so fast. Manuel watched them go, holding any jeeps back with the collected rocket launchers, and waited for Alberto to come over the rise to the north.
A few minutes later Alberto’s jeeps came towards them as the last of his vehicles disappeared over the next rise to the south. Alberto’s jeep screeched to a halt as Manuel patiently waited in the middle of the road.
“They seem to have new reinforcements!” shouted Alberto as his jeep stopped a foot away from his brother. “It looks like a whole new army of soldiers with two tanks and at least six other armored vehicles.”
“It was to be expected,” replied Manuel. “They were waiting for something.”
“I think we reduced their numbers by a few hundred but that is not important anymore with their reinforcements. I saw a long line of troop vehicles behind the tanks, at least twenty with more coming over the rise as we left them behind,” added Alberto.
