by Doug Kelly
The men awoke later to the door swinging open and the colonel’s loud voice commanding them to, “Rise and shine.” The light through the window was much dimmer now. After Dylan rubbed his eyes, he realized that they must have been asleep for hours and that the colonel was not alone.
The general had told Colonel Byrd to meet them in the cafeteria. They would discuss business over evening meal rations.
“Get dressed,” ordered Colonel Byrd. “General Matthews has business to discuss with you.”
“What could he want from me?” asked Richard.
“Actually, all of you. Meet me back where we ate lunch. It’s more like a favor, so don’t worry about it.”
Dylan was the first to get dressed. He looked out the little window toward the river. It was late in the day and he realized that it was too late to get started around the dams. The river valley reminded him of what he needed to do and that his only objective was to get back to his family and protect his children. He wanted to leave now, but felt obligated to stay and listen to the general.
The three men walked back into the cafeteria. They immediately noticed Colonel Byrd with the general and several other officers sitting at a long table. The general was at the end of the table speaking. The colonel looked up and saw the men standing at the entrance to the cafeteria. He motioned them over and several people moved away from the table so the three men could sit together. With a few quick hand gestures from the general, a young soldier hurried off to the food line and brought back three rations of food for their new guests. The general stood, and in a southern accent, addressed the three men.
“Colonel Byrd has explained your quandary to me. I commend you for adapting, and overcoming this crisis facing us Americans, if not the entire world. Those of us who have grown accustomed to and dependent on high technology will be affected the most. I fear a dire outcome. However, like you three gentlemen, we are also going to adapt and overcome.”
The general exhaled with a sigh. “We need food. There are thousands of people in town and on this base. The trucks are not going to show up with food anymore and the high-tech machinery used to harvest the crops is obviously not going to work. Ironically, farmland and cattle ranches surround us. We need help from the communities surrounding us. Our city population can provide manual labor to help harvest the crops. This base can supply an organized force to provide protection and security. The country is going to Hell in a hand basket, and soon organized gangs will form and have the power to terrorize the small communities that surround us. If we can get those communities to cooperate, everyone benefits.”
The general sat down and leaned forward as he continued to speak. “I would like you gentlemen to deliver a message to Fort Benton from the people of this base and the city of Great Falls. I understand your chosen route is to take the Missouri River back to your homes. Fort Benton is right on your way. I have a handwritten message signed by the members of the city council and me, promising protection for their community, and workers to harvest the crops. All we want is food in return for that protection and security.”
“Forgive me for asking, but why don’t you have your men do this?” Dylan inquired.
“We are all working double time to keep things orderly around here. There are a few vehicles…older and maybe unreliable vehicles…that our mechanic crew has been able to get operating again. We have a lot of people on patrol to deter impending chaos, civil unrest, and all that comes with it. A contingent of personnel is currently heading westerly to rescue the missile launch officers in the Minuteman silos. Our resources are spread thin. In a nutshell, it’s on your way and we need your help,” said the general, now leaning back in his chair waiting for a response. The general had noticed that Dylan and his two companions were nodding their heads as he spoke. He did not doubt that they would cooperate.
“I want to help,” Dylan responded.
“Fantastic!” exclaimed the general. “I should also tell you that we want to help you. The colonel has requisitioned one of the trucks that is still working. Using the truck, we can get you around the dams, all five of them. That should get you home a little faster. Before you go, have the colonel take you to see a supply sergeant. He will get you some MREs and supplies for your journey. I can’t give you any weapons. I hope you understand.”
“You have a deal,” said Kevin, nodding to Dylan and Richard.
With a few quick hand gestures from the general, a young soldier scurried off and returned with three cots.
“Stay with the colonel tonight. I have assigned him to get you on your way in the morning.” The general nodded, then turned abruptly and left the dining hall.
“Let’s put the cots in my room and go find a supply sergeant,” the colonel said, as he stood, waving the men toward his room.
The supply sergeants were located across the base, away from the officers’ quarters. The colonel walked them toward the inventory building. They passed countless stalled vehicles cluttering the base. As they walked, the colonel said in a low voice to the three men, “Look around. If we were attacked right now, there’s nothing we could do. Let’s hope nobody can take advantage of what has happened to us.” Speaking in a normal but sad tone, the colonel added, “I hope the best for the missile launch officers in the underground missile silos. They have sent teams of volunteers to get those the men out. I hope the missile silos don’t become their graves.”
Sergeant Haber stood at attention when Colonel Byrd entered the supply requisition office. Dylan, Kevin, and Richard, walked in behind the colonel. Colonel Byrd introduced the men to Sergeant Haber, who was working alone. The colonel returned the sergeant’s salute and said, “At ease, Sergeant. These men need some supplies,” as he handed the sergeant the signed requisition. The colonel turned and pointed toward the door where they had just entered the building. “Is that jalopy out front the transportation for these men to get around the dams?”
“Yes, sir. The mechanic told me to tell their driver to choke the throttle hard to start it,” said Sergeant Haber. He held up the truck’s key and dangled it with two fingers.
“The mechanic is not their driver?” asked the colonel.
“No, sir.”
The colonel turned to face the concrete block wall. He raised his forearm to the wall and leaned against it, burying his forehead into the bend of his arm. “Oh crap, they need someone to drive them and then bring the truck back.”
Sergeant Haber held up the key again and said, “Sir, I’ll volunteer. I’m cycled off duty tomorrow and would like to get a chance to drive that old thing. It reminds me of an old flatbed we had on the farm back in Illinois. I’m a little homesick, sir.”
“Deal.” The colonel motioned for Sergeant Haber to keep the keys. “They’re going to bunk in my room tonight. Work out what time to meet in front of the officers’ quarters tomorrow morning. I have to get to another meeting right now.” The colonel walked away and turned to give a quick salute just before he went through the exit door.
Sergeant Haber picked up a pad of paper and a pen, walked to the row of windows, and pulled the blinds up to let in the remaining light of the day. He tapped the pen on the pad and asked, “What do you need?”
The three men stood facing each other. They exchanged ideas with brief debates. Their immediate concern was food and they were each able to get a case of MREs. Dylan requested some digital camouflage clothing. Richard mentioned they did not have anything for first aid, so the sergeant handed him a first-aid kit. As an afterthought, Dylan doubtfully asked for a multi-tool with a small saw and was pleased to get one that would help him finish the bows. Kevin looked down at his worn shoes and requested some boots from the sergeant, who found each of them a pair. Dylan thought it would be a good idea to get wool blankets, just in case the weather got cold at night. He still doubted how fast he could get back home, although he desperately hoped it would be before it truly did get cold.
After an extended period of silent contemplation from the three men,
Sergeant Haber asked, “Is that it?”
Each man nodded silently as they looked at their supplies.
“What time shall I meet you?” said Sergeant Haber, lifting an eyebrow.
Richard held his bare wrist up to the sergeant. “We don’t have watches that work anymore.”
“Shit…you’re right…I don’t either. Can you get your breakfast rations, then meet me at sunrise in front of the officers’ quarters?”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Kevin, speaking for the others as he turned to walk toward the exit. “We have to get going now.”
On the way back to the room, they noticed dark clouds coming in from the horizon. Dylan mentioned the two rafts they had left concealed on the riverbank; he was concerned about the approaching storm raising the water level. They decided to drop the new gear off at the room, move the two rafts up to the top of the dam, stake them down, and use the tarps to cover their supplies.
Dusk was approaching rapidly and so were the dark clouds. They trotted down to the riverbank and untied the two concealed rafts. With three men to a raft, they moved them to higher ground. Kevin used his little axe and made stakes to lash the rafts to the ground before covering them with a tarp. They finished just as it started to rain, and jogged swiftly back to the room, but to no avail. They were soaked by the time they got inside. They were all still fatigued and agreed the best thing to do would be to just go to sleep. They needed the rest, and everyone agree that this was probably the last time they would sleep inside for a while. They took off their wet clothes and covered themselves with their new wool blankets. Deep sleep came quickly to all three men. They did not hear the colonel come back, bumping the furniture in the dark room, and cursing at his dead flashlight.
The colonel was the first to wake the next morning. He stood up and clapped his hands loudly to announce the dawn of the men’s departure. Richard groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. Kevin stood up and gave Richard’s cot enough of a kick to get his attention, then pulled the blanket off his head.
“It’s probably later than you think. Cloudy and raining outside, looks miserable,” said the colonel, as he lifted the blinds on his small window. “Let’s get some chow and get you out of here.”
Dylan was noticeably withdrawn that morning. He had dreamed about his children being in danger and he could do nothing to help them. He woke up thinking about his current situation and began to brood over his new reality, which was a nightmare he had to struggle through. All he could do was survive day by day and keep moving forward. As the other men talked at the cafeteria table, he rested his face in the palms of his hands, hovering over his meager ration of food. Kevin noticed the change in Dylan’s disposition. He slapped him on the back to bring him into the conversation at the table. He did not ask what was bothering Dylan. He knew, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Let’s find our chauffeur,” said Dylan, as he stood up, looking toward the exit.
Sergeant Haber was ready and waiting for them by the flatbed truck. He was wearing a rain poncho and had brought three more for the men. They quickly put the rain gear on and jumped on the flatbed, tucking the wool blankets and other new supplies under their ponchos to keep them dry. As soon as they jumped on the truck, the colonel dashed for the entrance to the officers’ quarters and saluted them quickly before he stepped inside. The Sergeant pulled the choke fully and closed his eyes as he turned the key. To his astonishment, the motor turned over on the first try, with a cloud of dark smoke from the exhaust. He pumped the accelerator a few times with his foot, the engine responded with a moan and more smoke.
Dylan leaned forward and pointed to the direction of the dam near where they secured the rafts. The sergeant slowly released the clutch and the truck jumped forward, rocking the three men in the back. The sky was pewter gray with low hanging clouds. Raindrops smacked the plastic of their rain ponchos hard as the truck strained to go faster. The men pulled their hoods over their faces and waited for the truck to stop. As the truck slowed near the dam, Dylan tapped the top of the cab, leaned to the driver window, and pointed to the three rafts on the ground, still covered with tarps. The sergeant pulled up next to the rafts and pointed the truck toward the road that would portage the men and rafts around the dams. They stacked the rafts on the flatbed and Dylan and Kevin began tying them securely in place. The sergeant and Richard stood by the passenger door and tried to talk over the pounding rain and echoes of thunder.
“Someone should ride in front now,” suggested Sergeant Haber.
Richard opened the passenger door to take advantage of the invitation. He saw a black duffle bag on the seat and reached across to move it. The sergeant lunged and grabbed Richard’s arm.
“Hold it, hold it…I’ll move that out of your way,” said the sergeant, as he pushed Richard’s arm away from the bag. The sergeant gently moved the bag over to the driver’s side and then he went to the other side of the truck and gingerly picked up the bag, then set it carefully on the floor. The sergeant took the driver’s seat and everyone else found their spot on the truck. With another cloud of black smoke, the truck lunged forward again and into first gear. The sergeant drove the truck slowly up, then down the hills around the dams.
Richard saw the sergeant’s knuckles turning white from his tight grip on the steering wheel. The sergeant was silent as he drove. He stared at the wet road ahead, occasionally glancing down at the black duffle bag. As the truck approached the last dam, Richard noticed the sergeant had started sweating profusely. The windows were slightly rolled down and the air was cool. Richard tried not to stare, but he could see that there was something different about the sergeant now.
The sergeant stopped the truck at the top of the last dam. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark and gray. Looking past the dam, they could see a gentle slope to the river. The sergeant helped them take the equipment down to the riverbank. They left the wool blankets in the truck cab to stay dry.
“I’ll put your blankets in my bag and meet you down there, go ahead,” said the sergeant, pointing to the rafts near the water. He waited until the men turned their backs and slowly removed the black duffle bag. The sergeant unzipped the bag and carefully placed the blankets inside. He carried the bag down to the river and sat it down by the raft nearest the riverbank. He was now between the men and that raft. He removed the blankets and tossed them into one of the rafts.
“I was thinking it was too bad we couldn’t get you any weapons for your journey. It’s such a shame. You have a long way to go and there are a lot of bad guys out there.” The sergeant spread his feet a little wider as he stood in front of Dylan’s raft. “I heard you were lucky enough to get a pistol. What kind is it?”
“9mm,” Dylan said, looking confused at the question.
“That’s fantastic. Do you mind if I take a look?” asked the sergeant, with a forced smile.
“Why?”
The sergeant took a step toward Dylan. “I am a big fan of firearms, I love the 9mm…do you mind?” asked the sergeant again, now holding his open hand toward Dylan. “Look, I brought a wonderful assault rifle. It’s in my bag, right here. The stock collapses…why don’t you have a look at it?” The sergeant got closer to Dylan.
Dylan pulled the pistol out of his pants and handed it to the sergeant. The sergeant smiled and passed the pistol from hand to hand. He took a few steps back toward his black bag by the raft. “Dylan…Dylan…Dylan…a good soldier never gives up his weapon,” stated the sergeant coldly, as he looked up from the pistol, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I think I should keep this pistol, Dylan...I wouldn’t abandon a good pistol…especially if it was my only weapon.”
Dylan’s face was red with anger. His hand was on his knife under the rain poncho, gripping it tightly. But Sergeant Haber had the pistol; Dylan knew there was nothing he could do about it.
“What kind of shit is this?” said Dylan, angrily. “You have your choice of weapons back there. You’re in supply and can g
et anything you want. We need that!”
“Yes…plenty of weapons, kept in the armory, locked up tight and guarded. But no rafts. And correction…I was in supply. I quit this morning,” said Sergeant Haber, sarcastically. “I should thank you for your idea on how to get home. I’ll be going back to Illinois. My parents have a farm there.” The sergeant sneered. “They will be out of food on the base and in the city before winter arrives. You’re crazy if you think I am sticking around for that. Thousands of hungry people with automatic weapons…no thanks.” The sergeant pulled an envelope sealed in a plastic bag out of his duffle. “Here is the general’s message for Fort Benton,” said the sergeant, as he put the envelope, sealed in a plastic bag, on the ground. The sergeant began to push the raft onto the water after gently loading his duffle bag into the raft. “Don’t follow me. I prefer to travel alone,” warned the sergeant, as he patted the black bag. “Stay away.” The sergeant jumped into the raft and pushed away from the shore. The three men stared at him and he stared back as he floated away.
“I didn’t see that coming,” said Dylan, in a subdued voice. Dylan picked up the letter from the general and dropped it into Richard’s raft. He turned and looked at his two companions and said, “I saw what was in the bag. It was full of ammunition, grenades, and maybe some explosives, too.”
Richard’s eyes grew wide as he listened to Dylan speak, and said, “When I reached to move that bag, he freaked a little. That explains it.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it,” said Kevin. “Double up with Richard. Set part of his stuff in my raft to give yourself some more room.”
They transferred some of the supplies between rafts. Dylan was now sharing Richard’s raft, and they moved the rafts near the water. Just before they pushed off, Dylan noticed a stand of river cane at the riverbank. They delayed their departure to cut down several dozen of the bamboo-like plants.
