“You won’t break us you sorry bastard!” I mumbled to myself with emotion.
“What was that?” Grant asked.
“Oh nothing General Thomas, I was just thinking out loud,” I responded as we continued our march. “Just thinking out loud is all.”
Chapter 7
The Alabama Militia
Return to Table of Contents
“It is hard to imagine a more stupid or more dangerous way of making decisions than by putting those decisions in the hands of people who pay no price for being wrong.”
—Thomas Sowell
The General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) was a multilateral agreement regulating international trade. According to its preamble, its purpose was the “substantial reduction of tariffs and other trade barriers and the elimination of preferences, on a reciprocal and mutually advantageous basis.” It was negotiated during the United Nations Conference on Trade and Employment and was the outcome of the failure of negotiating governments to create the International Trade Organization (ITO). GATT was signed in 1947 and lasted until 1994, when it was replaced by the World Trade Organization.7
GATT was designed to implement free trade with an, I scratch your back you scratch my back, type of effect. With GATT, there was going to be a lot of wheeling and dealing in Washington. For years and years the politicians in Washington got rich. American citizens always questioned that there was something wrong with the fact that a man could get elected to office and his net worth was say, $500,000. Four years later, when he ran for re-election, he would be worth several million dollars.
The politicians were supposed to speak for the citizens when in fact, they were really speaking for themselves and their own pocketbook. If a politician was debating the passage of a law that would affect a multi-million dollar company, the company would send a representative to Washington. That representative would give a large sum of money to the politician so that he would vote a certain way that was beneficial to the company. Politicians got rich by selling their votes. Everyone knew it was happening, but no one did a thing about it. As a result, politicians got richer and richer. The longer they stayed in office, the richer they got.
With the implementation of GATT, the wheeling and dealing went to a new level. After a while, politicians realized that GATT could be so much better for them, but not necessarily for the general public.
When the politicians realized that they could replace GATT with something else and line their pockets even more, there was nothing to decide. It would be done. The World Trade Organization fit the bill for the changes that they wanted.
The World Trade Organization (WTO) was an organization that intended to supervise and liberalize international trade. The organization officially commenced on January 01, 1995 under the Marrakech Agreement, replacing the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), which commenced in 1948. The organization dealt with the regulation of trade between participating countries; it provided a framework for negotiating and formalizing trade agreements, and a dispute resolution process aimed at enforcing participant’s adherence to WTO agreements, which were signed by representatives of member governments and ratified by their parliaments. Most of the issues that the WTO focused on derived from previous trade negotiations. In July of 2012, there were various negotiation groups within the WTO system for various agricultural trade negotiations which ended up in a stalemate.8
Because of GATT and WTO, politicians in Washington controlled the free trade of the country, and what they wanted they got. What they got was fat and happy, so to speak. Tyranny had a new name in America. Tyranny was the political machine that was running rampant through our nation. Tyranny, like our forefathers predicted over two hundred and thirty years before, had come to roost in the United States.
There’s a lot of time to think when you march for a day and a half. A lot of the group of soldiers scattered around and talked to others as they walked. As long as the ranks were vigilant in looking out for possible attacks, I did not mind. Adam drifted toward the back of the line a couple of hours into our journey. Sally Ann and Hannah were two long lost friends reunited. I could tell that they were both in heaven as they walked and conversed. I saw Abby several times, walking up and down the line distributing water. Of course she is, that is just like her, the way she has always been, always caring for others, I thought to myself. Grant and I talked sparingly.
“I’m sorry Grant. I hope you know that,” I said.
“What are you talking about Paul?” he asked as he took a drag off of his pipe.
“I’m sorry for commandeering your militia the other day. I can’t believe we haven’t discussed it yet. It’s like we’re tap dancing around it,” I said.
“Paul,” he started as smoke swirled about his head from his pipe. “Truth be known, I’ve been burned out for a long while now. I needed someone to come in and take the reins for some time now.” He looked over at me as I looked over at him, “You woke me up.”
“Well,” I said as I paused briefly, “I am sorry the way it started out. It probably could have worked out a little better than it did in the beginning.”
As Grant opened his mouth, I could see his lips moving. But I heard nothing but gunshots ringing out, soldiers hollering and women screaming.
“We’re under attack, take cover!” I hollered as I ran for cover behind an old Auto Zone storefront. Our group was scattering for cover and concealment as Socialist soldiers came from out of nowhere. There looked to be several hundred of them coming in on us in a full attack from our left.
Gunshots rang out, smoke filled the air, hand to hand battles were occurring. Then I heard it, that unmistakable whirring of the drones coming for us. “Snipers! Drones!” I hollered out. I could hear that wonderful sound of Remington 700 LTR .308’s going off from behind me. As we battled I could not help but think how prepared we were. We were holding our own against a veteran Socialist army supplemented by Russians soldiers.
As I glanced to my left I saw a man coming toward me on a horse. From his appearance, he was the soldier in command. “I’ve got to get to him,” I muttered to myself. He was about two hundred feet in front of me. I began running toward the horse.
I saw Grant firing his Smith & Wesson model 66 .357 combat magnum toward a group of socialist soldiers. I saw a few of them drop to the ground as blood filled the fronts of their shirts. I looked to the right and saw Adam cycling his Winchester 94 as he fired shots in rapid succession. Beside Adam was Lily. Lily held in her hands a Remington 870 pump shotgun. Whenever Adam would stop to reload the Winchester, Lily would take over with the shotgun. When Adam would start back with the Winchester, Lily would reload the shotgun. Time stood still as I thought to myself, Damn! What a team they are. I felt myself smiling in pride as my daughter fought the Socialist army.
I looked up as the horse and I approached each other. The rider had spun the horse a quarter turn away from me. He never saw me coming. In one gigantic leap, with a screamingly painful leg, launching myself from as close to a full on sprint as I could muster, I hit the rider in his left side. As we connected I could hear the air escape his lungs with a “Uuummpphh!” coming from his mouth. As we landed on the ground I could hear yet another “Uuummpphh!” As he lay there wheezing and gasping for air, I sat up, took my Glock 19 from the drop holster on my right thigh, and shot him in the head.
I jumped up in time to engage two soldiers in a hand-to-hand combat. As we struggled I heard the wonderful sound of a lever action rifle cycling which was followed by a loud boom. One of my adversaries fell to the ground bleeding from the chest. As I turned to the other soldier, I heard a loud shotgun blast. The soldier fell to the ground in a bloody heap. I turned to see Adam and Lily standing there smiling. “Hey Dad!” Lily said as she cycled the action on the Remington and fired another shot at a soldier behind me.
I heard an explosion. I turned and saw grenades exploding near socialists soldiers. Then I saw another explosion. Then a small lemon shaped ob
ject flying through the air, landing behind a group of socialists, and another KABOOM! “Who’s got grenades?” I was yelling as I saw Drones falling to the ground. Socialist soldiers were lying all over the ground in bloody piles. Then another explosion followed by that wonderful word, “Otstupleniye! Otstupleniya!” The Russian word for retreat was being screamed at the top of someone’s lungs. I looked up and saw socialist and Russian soldiers running away from the battle field and heard drones leaving the area. I was bewildered, as were most of my men, and women. We stood there watching them run. As I scratched my head in obvious curiosity, I looked to the east and I saw it.
Armies have used battle flags for over 4,000 years. Soldiers use flags to give others information such as, who they are and where they are on the field of battle. Long ago, knights started carrying flags into battle, because it was hard to know who the knights were when they were dressed and covered in armor. Flags were important because they helped soldiers tell their friends from their enemies.
Battle flags were used in early warfare at least since the Bronze Age. The word standard itself is from an Old Frankish term for a field sign (not necessarily a flag).
The use of battle flags as field signs apparently emerged in Asia, during the Iron Age, possibly in either China or India. Early field signs that were not limited to a flag, are also called vexilloid or “flag-like”. The Roman Vexillum itself is also “flag-like” in the sense that it was suspended from a horizontal crossbar as opposed to a simple flagpole.
Use of simple flags as military ensigns became common during the medieval period, developing in parallel with heraldry as a complement to the heraldic device shown on shields. The maritime flag also developed in the medieval period.
Some medieval free cities or communes did not have coats of arms, and used war flags that were not derived from a coat of arms. Thus, the city of Lucerne used a blue-white flag as a field sign from the mid-13th century, without deriving it from a heraldic shield design.9
“I’ve never been happier to see such a sight!” I yelled toward Adam. The glorious state flag of Alabama was flying in the wind, as a militia soldier wandered across the field in our direction waving it bravely.
General Thomas walked over to me, sword in hand, blood dripping from his right arm from a sustained injury. “General Hornady, I give to you, the Alabama Militia,” he said as he held his arm up and waved it across the air in front of him pointing toward a large group of men that were walking toward us.
I looked to Adam with a smile, with the intent of a nice congratulatory remark and a joyous high five; my smile kind of melted into confusion as I saw Adam and Lily embracing in a hug and then sealing said hug with a kiss. “What the hell?” was all I could muster from my lips as I looked on the scene unfolding in front of me in bewilderment, as my mouth hung open.
“General Lenard Davies at your service Sir,” came the statement from the man standing before me with his right arm outstretched and waiting to accept my handshake.
Turning to face General Davies, and then looking back at Adam and Lily, then back to General Davies, I extended my hand to shake his. “Perfect timing on your part General. I do believe we were getting ready to have our asses handed to us in that battle. Where the hell did you get grenades?”
“It did appear that your regiment was doing quite well” he said with a moderate English accent. “Whenever we have the glorious opportunity, we raid dead Russian soldier’s satchels and recover F1 hand grenades.”
General Davies was not a typical General nor was he a typical warrior. The man looked like a computer geek. General Lenard Davies was a tall thin man. I would guess him to be six-feet-five inches tall, and probably weighed less than two hundred pounds. He had very thin-wire rimmed glasses that resembled a cheap pair of reading glasses one used to buy in a drug store. He had every bit of the look of an Englishman though. He wore waxed, cotton trousers that were stuffed into knee high brown leather boots that fastened at the top with a large polished silver buckle. The trousers ballooned out where they tucked into the top of the boots. He wore a button up, long sleeved, heavy-duty khaki shirt and wore a hard shelled pith safari helmet. While I did not see a horse anywhere near us, he was carrying a short, metallic jockey whip in his right hand. If there were a poster child for an English gentleman, this dude was it.
The Soviet F1 hand grenade, nicknamed the limonka (lemon-like), was an anti-personnel fragmentation defensive grenade. It was based on the French F1 grenade and contained a 60 gram explosive charge (TNT). The total weight of the grenade with the fuse was about 600 grams or 21 ounces. The standard time delay for this fuse was anywhere from 3.5 to 4 seconds. However, fuse variants were available which gave delays between zero and 13 seconds, specifically for use in booby-traps.10
General Davies and General Thomas shook hands energetically. “Nice to see you again Lenard, I see you’re still carrying that flag into battle,” Grant exclaimed as Abby began dressing a wound on General Davies arm.
“Very good to see you again old chap. We will carry that Alabama flag until we are decimated. I do say General Thomas, your group is quite diminished from the last time we saw you. Whatever happened to all of your men?” he asked.
“Damn Russians and Socialists happened,” Adam said as he walked up and also extended his hand to General Davies and was greeted with a firm energetic handshake.
General Davies looked at Abby and moved his arm as he spoke, “Quite the nurse aren’t you young lassie?”
Having finished her bandaging, she replied to General Davies, “You should keep the bandage dry for a few days if you can. General Thomas, you’re next. Give me your arm,” she said looking at Grant Thomas.
Staring at Adam in confusion, “Nice of you to join us Major. I am glad that you could tear yourself away,” I said sarcastically, as I nodded toward a sheepishly smiling Lily.
Looking at General Davies I continued, “I would love to have some of those F1’s. I haven’t been able to come upon any grenades in a while and they would be awesome in battle.”
Clearing his throat, “General, I do believe we need to talk when you have a moment” Adam said.
“You think?” I said, as all of the soldiers of the Alabama militia and what was left of our militia gathered and celebrated by shaking hands and slapping each other on the back.
General Davies spoke, “I do say General Hornady, I have plenty of lemons for you later, but I do believe that we have stumbled into a more pressing personnel matter between you and the Major?”
Looking at Adam, “To be honest with you General, I don’t know yet,” I spoke, as I began to rub my beard once again while still looking at a red-faced Adam. “But, I guess I will find out soon enough huh?” still looking at Adam.
I continued, “We were actually coming to meet up with your militia and ask for some assistance in Vermont. We thought we were another day out from meeting up with you, but I am glad that we were wrong. I say again, I do believe you saved us here. But General Davies, I have to ask, what’s a man with an English accent doing over here fighting in our war?”
“Good Sir, I married a—” he paused slightly as his lips quivered a bit, “Southern Belle from Alabama twelve years ago. I stayed with her in your country and she and I were quite happy here making our home. That is until the day that the Obama Army killed my dear wife.” Stiffening and arching his back so that he was standing at attention he continued, “At that moment in time, the rules of love required me to be called into service against the man responsible for her death. I will die fighting, not for your freedom, not for my freedom, but fighting for my dear, dear Audra. I owe said sacrifice to her memory, if nothing else.”
“Understood. I am sorry about your wife Sir, I know that must have been difficult to say the least. And I, for one, am glad that you are fighting with us. What do you say we get the guys to set up a campsite while we talk?” I asked.
“Splendid. We are quite famished and would love to rest our feet so to speak” he
replied.
Looking at Adam I began, “Major, I know that there are other things you would rather be doing right now, but if you could see to it that the guys start assembling a makeshift campsite for the night I would appreciate it.”
“Yes Sir!” Adam responded as he hustled off into the large group of soldiers.
“Go easy on him there Paul,” General Thomas said as Abby finished with his bandage. “He’s a nice kid, Lily could do a lot worse,” General Thomas said. “Besides,” he continued, “Have you looked at your daughter lately? She’s a beautiful young woman now Paul, it’s time to let her go.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said looking at General Thomas as I continued, “Easy for you to say there Grandpa.”
Abby finished with General Grants injured arm and walked off without a word toward other injured soldiers.
With that General Thomas, General Davies and I walked over to the side of the gravel road and sat down in a small ditch and began to discuss the future.
The Conspiracy of American Democracy - A Father's Revenge Page 6
