299 Days: The 43 Colonels

by Glen Tate

  “As the war went on, the Limas were losing control of more and more territory. Soon, they only held the locks. Locks,” Ben explained, “are the facilities on all the Columbia and Snake River dams that allow shipping traffic to be raised or lowered past the dam so they can continue on. The locks and the dams, which supplied most of the power in the region, were extremely heavily defended by the Limas.”

  “The Limas were losing control, though. First the Lower Granite, then the Little Goose, Lower Monument, and Ice Harbor locks and dams fell to the Patriots. That meant Lima vessels could no longer go all the way up the Columbia and Snake Rivers to Idaho,” Ben said and looked up at the Idaho ambassador in the gallery. He added, “Not that the Limas cared that much about Idaho, but they sure wanted their potatoes, as inferior to Washington potatoes as they are.” Several in the audience, including the Idaho ambassador, laughed.

  “It was becoming obvious to Col. Yeager that the Patriots would win this. He was brave, but didn’t want to be cruising up and down the Columbia River flying the Lima flag when the Patriots finally won. He had his Arab radio guy and a rotating group of Patriot intelligence agents, but when the Patriot forces on the river became larger and larger, the odds of a friendly fire incident increased.”

  “Plus,” Ben said with a smile, “Col. Yeager had one final and spectacular mission left before he retired.”

  “Many people wonder why New Washington doesn’t face much of a threat from Lima-held Portland and the rest of old Oregon. The answer is simple: on New Year’s Eve, the I-5 and I-205 bridges over the Columbia River connecting the two states were destroyed. Apparently some barges hit them.”

  Chapter 373

  Col. Jacob Davis

  (Manufacturing Master)

  “But don’t worry,” Ben said as the applause for Col. Yeager died down, “the crew of the tugs hitting the bridges were uninjured. They somehow managed to jump ship into a rescue boat right before the accident. Lucky guys, I guess.”

  “AR-15s need to eat,” Ben said, knowing that would thoroughly confuse the audience and pique their interest in what he was about to say.

  “You heard about Col. Schultz who made lots and lots of AR-15s for us. Well, ARs need to eat. They need ammunition and magazines. That’s where Col. Jacob Davis comes in.” Ben pointed to a man in his sixties in the audience who stood up and waved.

  “He, too, doesn’t like to give speeches so he said I could describe what he did. His motivation for helping the Patriots is like many of the other colonels. He missed America. He had always been an entrepreneur and watched in horror as the land of the free turned into the land of taxes and handouts. He is a Christian and believes God wants us to be free and treat each other well. And finally, he saw the ‘Legitimate Authorities’ bullying people and taking what they could by force. All of these things made it clear to him that he needed to work for us.”

  “And he was well suited to do so. Jacob owns a sheet metal fabricating factory near Longview, in the southern portion of New Washington. Manufacturing wasn’t exactly an easy business before the Collapse. Why employ Americans to make things when you can have those nice Chinese people, who are our friends, make them cheaper? What could possibly go wrong?”

  “Two years before the Collapse, Jacob had to close down his plant. He had to lay off dozens of good people, some of whom had worked for his company for decades. That was the worst day of his life, he told me.”

  “In the two years from the plant closing to the Collapse, Jacob had time on his hands. To eke out a living after the bankruptcy, he put his machine shop and production skills to work and started reloading ammunition. He was a life-long hunter and shooter. Between his garden and hunting, and selling reloads, he made enough to feed his family.”

  “His reloading equipment started off as regular hand presses a hobbyist would use. Then he started expanding his equipment. Ammunition was the one thing that was selling well, and fetching high prices, leading to the Collapse. Everyone wanted it, and was paying top dollar for it. This allowed Jacob to raise the money to expand.”

  “There was also increasing demand for AR magazines. He engineered a process to make them. They weren’t pretty, but they worked.”

  “When the Collapse hit, he realized the authorities weren’t in control of much anymore. He cut the locks on his shut-down plant and got it back up and running. The local authorities looked the other way, and actually helped him get the electricity and water back on, because he was employing local families.”

  “Longview, down in southern Washington, was, as Col. Deborah Levi described, a pretty friendly area for Patriots. Col. Davis could essentially operate freely there.”

  “Until one day when DHS found out he was making ammunition and magazines. The local DHS boss wanted a cut of that. His men went to raid the facility—to confiscate the contraband and turn it over to the authorities, of course—but were met by a Sheriff’s posse that outnumbered them five to one. This was during a time when the Limas could barely keep control of I-5 running through Longview. They decided to concentrate on their main mission of securing the interstate instead of getting killed trying to make some side money.”

  “Col. Davis had a huge facility and was only using a portion of it for this ammunition and magazine production. He put out the word that other Patriot manufacturers were encouraged to use this facility as long as they were producing war materials. Many made the dangerous journey there. Some brought their equipment; others used Col. Davis’.”

  “We know from the various intelligence sources you’ve heard about today that the Limas were furious that a Patriot manufacturing hub was operating in Longview. They tried to cut off the power to it, but couldn’t get the local officials to cooperate by targeting the shut-off to only the manufacturing facilities. The Limas’ only alternative was to cut off the power to the entire city of Longview, which would have been disastrous politically. They tried to conduct an airstrike but didn’t have enough operational planes with all the AWOLs they were suffering. Besides, at this stage of the war, the Limas were concentrating their resources on Olympia and the Seattle metropolitan areas. So what if some teabaggers were making ammo and magazines in some hick town?”

  “Well, the ammunition and magazine production, and all the other manufacturing being done in and around Jacob’s facility were a big deal. They supplied hundreds of troops with ammunition and magazines. This made taking and holding southwestern Washington much easier.”

  “As you’ve seen from several of the colonels, the Restoration is as important as winning the war. Col. Davis has assumed a crucial role in the rebuilding. He advises my cabinet and the Legislature on manufacturing issues. He tells us what we need to do—which is usually ‘get out of the way’—to get manufacturing back up and running. He tells us about utilities, rail lines, getting good workers, and what raw materials manufacturers need.”

  “He tells me that what we’re doing is working. Manufacturing is springing up everywhere in New Washington. When I ask him why, he says, ‘You’re getting out of the way.’”

  Chapter 374

  Col. Joshua Smith

  (The Mountain Man)

  “We’ve had colonels who used airplanes and boats to transport valuable cargo. Our next colonel used a low-tech method that worked remarkably well: mules.”

  “How did the Patriots move so many people and so much cargo over the Cascade mountains when the highways across the mountain passes and the railways were controlled by the Limas?”

  “The answer has two ears, four legs, and moves slowly. But steadily. And without roads or gasoline.” Ben paused.

  “But it came at a high price. Col. Joshua Smith is receiving his colonelship posthumously. He was killed a few months ago by an avalanche as he was bringing a mule team through the mountains.”

  “Col. Smith was a guide near Wenatchee, which is in the middle of the Cascade Mountains. He took tourists and hunters on pack mule trips. He had a nice life. He got to camp and got to be in
the woods all the time, which was what he loved.”

  “He is the only person I’ve heard of who didn’t know the Collapse occurred. He lived in the woods on the trails. He never owned a cell phone and didn’t know how to use the internet, and didn’t want to learn.”

  “He started helping us because he was getting paid to do so, which was fine,” Ben said. “But as the people he was bringing out of the Seattle area started to tell him their stories, he quit charging us. That’s when he made the real impact we’re honoring him for.”

  “Col. Smith didn’t just guide his mules across the mountains for us. He convinced this fellow guide—a very tight-knit community no outsider could penetrate—to work for us. He even recruited area ranchers and others to become full-time guides. He organized security for the mules, relying on a mixture of Patriot soldiers and local men and women. He organized it all. He plopped a sophisticated pack mule system in our laps and never asked for a dime.”

  “Human cargo was probably the most important thing Col. Smith’s teams moved. High-value assets, like spies and defecting military leaders came over from the Seattle area to the safe areas of eastern Washington. People flowed the other way, too. Several special operation units from eastern Washington got into the Seattle area from the mule teams.” Ben looked at Col. Hammond and said, “I see Col. Hammond is nodding his head.”

  “The Limas had no idea how people and supplies were getting across the mountains. Their satellites were barely functional. They had very few aircraft; what few they had were for higher priority missions than shooting up mules. Besides,” Ben said, “from one of their communications that we intercepted, we learned they thought of themselves as the mighty federal government. They weren’t afraid of some ‘knuckle draggers with mules,’ as they said in the communication.”

  “The mule team guides who worked with Col. Smith told me that he wouldn’t want much said about him. They said he’s in the hills somewhere now, which is what he wanted. I respect that and will keep these remarks very short. But we appreciate you, Col. Smith for all you did.”

  Chapter 375

  Col. Shawn Swanson

  (The Admiral)

  “We go from pack mules to nuclear missile submarines,” Ben said. “What a perfect way to make the point that low-tech and high-tech helped us win.”

  “As Colonel Hammond and General Roswell described, there was a fight to win over top military leaders. While the commander of a few hundred or a few thousand troops is a big prize, the commander of submarines with a few dozen nuclear warheads is an even bigger one.”

  “Our next colonel is an admiral. Much like General Roswell, a colonelship is a demotion, but Admiral Swanson said he would be proud to be called a ‘colonel’ because his admiralship came from the United States Navy, but he resigned from that organization. We are happy to announce that he has accepted command of New Washington’s naval forces. Please welcome me in honoring Col. Shawn Swanson.”

  A bald man in a naval uniform with impressive decorations stood up and crisply walked to the rostrum. He was very comfortable giving speeches.

  He began by pointing to Gen. Roswell in the audience and saying, “Thank you, General, for letting this old sailor get back into the uniform he loves.”

  “We’re coming to the end of today’s presentations and you’ve heard much of the background already, so I’ll be short. I commanded the Bangor nuclear submarine base near Seattle. When the Collapse hit, I—like many of my officers and senior NCOs—was torn. We knew the Limas were rotten and wanted no part of them. But we also knew that the equipment under our control was extremely lethal. If it got in the wrong hands, millions of people could die. Those of us who handle nuclear weapons take this responsibility very seriously.”

  “I decided to secure the nuclear weapons and then worry about picking sides later. The men and women under my command were remarkably professional and shared the same vision as me. I wanted to get the subs and warheads out of CONUS, or as most people call it, the continental United States.

  “I knew that I couldn’t turn over nuclear weapons to the Patriots. Loyalist forces were extremely strong when it came to securing them. I could not hold off the Limas if they wanted to attack Bangor. Besides, I didn’t have the means of launching the nuclear weapons, and I wouldn’t want that responsibility anyway, so nuclear weapons in my hands at Bangor would do the Patriots no good. I had to get them out to sea so whoever controlled them would at least have them. I was taking a risk because if the Loyalists ended up with control of the subs, I had just handed them enough firepower to destroy the world several times over. But it was better than putting up a fight at Bangor and being overrun by the Limas.”

  “Besides, by putting the subs out to sea, I preserved the trust my FUSA superiors had in me. It was, objectively speaking, the rational thing to do. They assumed I was loyal to them because I had followed my orders, which were to safeguard the subs.”

  “I didn’t mind following a constitutional order like securing nuclear weapons. It was when I was ordered to turn over command of my subs to the old government that I chose to disobey. I knew the Limas were considering using the subs against ‘rebel’ American cities, especially those in the South. I learned this from friends on the inside who worked at the Pentagon. I couldn’t be part of that.”

  “With all the safeguards in place with launch codes, I couldn’t just hand the subs over to the Patriots. Even if I knew how to contact them and actually thought that would be a good idea, the Patriots couldn’t use them, which was good as I had strong feelings about the use of nuclear weapons against Americans. Just as I would have no part of the Limas using them, I would have no part of the Patriots using them either.”

  “Right about this time, we were hearing that Gen. Warrilow, the national Patriot military commander, had control of several nuclear devices. We were also hearing about the Utility Treaty, where both sides would not use their nuclear weapons in exchange for the utilities remaining on in the country. It was a stalemate. Perfect. We nuclear weapons people love a stalemate.”

  “But it also occurred to me that, much like the Cold War I was trained to fight, if one side obtained overwhelming nuclear firepower, a stalemate might break down. From what we were hearing, it looked like the Patriots only had a fraction of the nuclear weapons the Limas did. I decided I wouldn’t add to this imbalance by letting my subs get into Lima hands.”

  “There’s a way to basically take the firing pin out of a nuclear missile and its warhead. Once this is done, it can never be fired and the warhead can never detonate. The Limas know I did this, so I’m not telling anyone anything classified today. I made the nuclear warheads inoperable. Now neither side could use them.”

  “The crews have been out to sea for a few months with missiles that don’t work. Once they need to return to port to replenish, there’s a plan in place for repatriating them to the sides each of them chooses.” He didn’t describe the plan, but it was to let subs dock in Canadian ports. As a neutral country, the crews could disembark and stay there or go to whichever part of the FUSA was controlled by the side they wanted to join. This was much more humane than letting the Russian or Chinese navies know where the subs were and sinking them.

  “Now that those warheads are inert, I focused on putting together the most professional naval force possible for New Washington. Most of the naval bases are still held by the Limas, so I don’t have all the facilities I’d like. Then again, most of the personnel went AWOL, and a good chunk of those who are fighting picked the Patriot side.”

  “The main thing our little navy did during the war was support the privateers. We also used our small vessels to collect intelligence and move critical personnel and equipment. Very low-tech, but very effective.”

  “I can sleep well at night,” he said in conclusion. “I did the right thing by disabling those missiles and I’ll always be thankful I had the opportunity to do it. Thank you.”

  Chapter 376

  Amber Taurus<
br />
  (The Den Mother of Liberty)

  “Everyone has heard about the Think Farm,” Ben said as the applause for Col. Swanson died down. “Many of you in this room spent some time there. This next colonelship goes to woman who made the Think Farm possible, Amber Taurus.”

  A beautiful woman with black hair stood up and walked to the rostrum. The audience gave her a standing ovation. Many of them knew her and had, as Ben said, lived out at the Think Farm during the war. She was not just another honoree to many of them; she was family.

  Col. Taurus was a little star struck by the applause from the huge crowd. She felt odd standing in front of the Legislature to accept an award, but at the same time it made perfect sense. God had done amazing things in her life, she thought at the rostrum, and standing before the Legislature and accepting this award was just one of them. She closed her eyes to soak in the moment and enjoy it.

  “Thank you,” she finally said, talking over the applause. “I don’t have much to say,” she paused, “Well, maybe I do.”

  “I’m just a mom,” she said and looked at Ben. “Oh, that’s right, I’m not supposed to say I’m ‘just’ a mom.” The audience laughed. She was far from being ‘just’ a mom. She was brilliant and a natural leader. She could read people like a book. She could finish sentences for people she’d just met. She knew public policy backwards and forwards. She could break down complicated problems into simple pieces. And she made brownies that people would do anything for.

  “I can’t really explain why God chose me to do these things,” she said with a shrug. “He just did.” She shrugged again. She had become a popular hero in New Washington and her genuine humility was one of the reasons.

  “I think of two things when I think of the Think Farm. First of all, the people. What an amazing collection of people. The young college kids who came there to build a better state. They had no life experience, but they did know that the old government was corrupt. They knew that something better was possible. They’d heard stories about the old America and all they wanted was to live in it themselves.”