As I walked up to the large group, everyone stopped and I was staring at Adam and General Davies with my mouth hung open. General Thomas walked up to us with his pipe barely hanging onto his lips and his mouth was hung open also.
“General Hornady, General Thomas, may I be the first to introduce you to the Iowa militia!” Adam said, as he waved his hand behind him toward the group.
I looked at Adam, General Davies, General Thomas and the group and spoke, “Well this ought to be a damn interesting story. Let’s hear it.”
“Our scouts tell it best,” Adam said as he motioned for one of our scouts to move forward. The scout walked up to us and Adam told him, “Tell the General what you told us.”
All of the soldiers were talking, whooping, hollering, and getting to know each other. I could hardly hear myself think, let alone hear the soft spoken scout. I motioned for him to come with me and I turned and walked toward my usual corner of the building. General Thomas, General Davies, Adam Lily, Ben, and another man I assumed was from the Iowa militia, followed me. Once I got to my spot, I turned to the scout, “Alright, begin,” I said, waiting to hear the story.
“Well General, we got set up just about two miles outside of Brattleboro like you asked. We were going out on reconnaissance every four hours. The first trip, we saw this large group camped out. We did not know who they were so we decided to come back the next trip and watch them for a bit. It was after three trips and maybe four hours of watching that we realized they were militia. Then we had to figure out how to make contact. So far?”
“I’m with you,” I replied.
“Well, we found the Russian campsite. It looks like a permanent structure inside of Brattleboro. It’s an old middle school and they have large tents stationed outside. They have a mess tent, a latrine, and a medical tent. It’s a huge campsite. We laid eyes on The Bear but no one that matches the description you gave us of Emmet Forsyth. We are guessing four to five thousand men are there. There are about three tanks, five drones, and maybe four battle copters scattered around the building. They’ve got some Jeeps and Howitzers also. So far?”
“I’m with you. Please continue,” I said once again.
“We kept coming back to the militia camp two miles outside of Brattleboro. We decided to make contact. So, we found an old white rag in a burned out church nearby and tied it around a stick. Then, walked into the camp waving it as a surrender flag. Their General, General Alexander,” pointing out the gentleman who followed us over to my spot. The man waved his two fingers at me and nodded his head, “made contact with us,” he continued.
General Alexander was a small man. I would say he was a very generous five-foot-six inches tall and he probably weighed one hundred fifty-five pounds. He was bald, had big ears that stuck out on the side of his head like Elmer Fudd. He wore a Special Forces uniform with a green beret resting on his bald head. He had the AA patch for the 82nd Airborne distinction on his shoulder. He had tall black leather combat boots and digital camouflage pants with a long sleeved digital camouflaged tactical shirt. He had a Colt AR-15 slung over his shoulder and a Colt 1911 pistol in a holster on his hip. I could see the edge of a knife sticking out of the top of each boot and another sticking out of his belt on the left side. He may have been a small man, but I could tell from looking at him that I would rather fight The Bear than this man.
Special Forces military units were the elite of the elite.
Special Forces, or special operations forces are military units that are highly trained to perform unconventional, often high-risk missions. Special Forces, as they were recognized in the twentieth century, emerged in the early part of the century, with a significant growth in the field during the Second World War.
Depending on the country, Special Forces would perform some very necessary specializations: airborne operations, counter-Insurgency, counter-terrorism, covert operations, direct action, hostage rescue, intelligence operations, mobility operations, and unconventional warfare.21
While the United States Special Forces existed in World War II, they truly came into prominence in the Vietnam War with the Green Berets.
The United States Army Special Forces, known as the Green Berets because of their distinctive service headgear, were a special operations force tasked with five primary missions: unconventional warfare (the original and most important mission of Special Forces), foreign internal defense, special reconnaissance, direct action, and counter-terrorism. The first two emphasized language, cultural, and training skills in working with foreign troops. Other duties included combat search and rescue (CSAR), counter-narcotics, counter-proliferation, hostage rescue, humanitarian assistance, humanitarian demining, information operations, peacekeeping, psychological operations, security assistance, and manhunts; other components of the United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM) or other United States government activities that also specialized in those secondary areas. Many of their operational techniques were classified.
As special operations units, Special Forces were not necessarily under the command authority of the ground commanders in those countries. Instead, while in theater, Special Forces units would report directly to a geographic combatant command, United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM), or other command authorities. The Central Intelligence Agency‘s (CIA) highly secretive Special Activities Division (SAD) and more specifically its elite Special Operations Group (SOG) recruited its members from the Army’s Special Forces. Joint CIA-Army Special Forces operations go back to the famed MACV-SOG during the Vietnam War.
The main mission of the Special Forces was to train and lead unconventional warfare (UW) forces, or a clandestine guerrilla force in an occupied nation. The Special Forces were the only United States Special Operations Force (SOF) trained to employ unconventional warfare (UW). The 10th Special Forces Group was the first deployed Special Forces unit, intended to operate unconventional warfare (UW) forces behind enemy lines in the event of a Warsaw Pact invasion of Western Europe.22
The 82nd Airborne was also an elite unit of the United States Army.
The 82nd Airborne Division was an active duty airborne infantry division of the United States Army, specializing in parachute assault operations into denied areas. Based at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, the 82nd Airborne Division was part of the XVIII Airborne Corps.
The 82nd Division was constituted in the National Army on 5 August 1917, and was organized on 25 August 1917, at Camp Gordon, Georgia. Since its initial members came from all 48 states, the unit acquired the nickname All-American, which was the basis for its famed “AA” shoulder patch.23
The scout continued, “Well, they were soon identified as the Iowa militia. They told us they were going to Portsmouth in order to leave up here. Well, everybody seems to think they were leaving the country because they were tired of fighting, but General Alexander told us differently.”
Stepping forward General Alexander spoke with a strong, deep, command bearing voice. “I’ll take it from here Corporal. General Hornady, we were heading out to take a supply ship down the east coast to the tip of the southernmost point in Florida. I have information that there’s a staging area there for redeployment to the west coast of Florida. Because we have a healthy number of soldiers, and are fierce in battle, I thought we could help them down in Florida. They are having issues down there with extreme intolerance. We’ve picked up smaller militias and incorporated them into our number in the last few months. As soon as the good Corporal told us that your group was coming here to engage Alexei Vadim, well, we had to put our travel plans on hold,” he said as he smiled widely.
I was still trying to take it all in. This was a lot of information to digest. We not only had found the Iowa militia, but a famed General who quite honestly, demanded respect when he spoke. I could have listened to this guy speak for hours. “We appreciate your willingness to help us General,” I said as General Davies stepped up.
“Kind Sir, could you please clarify for us, how many men do yo
u have in your Iowa militia?” General Davies asked.
General Alexander spoke very firm and direct, “Nineteen hundred Sir!”
My mouth dropped open and my hands began to tremble. “Did you say nineteen hundred?” I asked.
“Yes Sir I did,” he replied.
“General, if you would come with us, I think we should discuss our plans for the impending battle in Brattleboro. I’m sure your men and my men can become acquainted and get some rations while we talk,” I suggested.
“Affirmative Sir! Major!” he called out. A tall thin man of average build walked up behind him. “Yes Sir” he replied. “You are in command Major!” The Major saluted General Alexander and General Alexander saluted back.
I walked to the front door of the old Exxon gas station and kicked in the front door. General Davies, General Thomas, Major Adam Jones, Sgt. Lily Hornady, General Alexander and the scout walked in and stepped up to the old counter. I looked over at General Davies, “The map General,” I said.
As General Davies searched for his old map of Vermont I walked back to the front door. “Ben!” I yelled. Ben came running up to me. “Yes Sir,” he replied.
“You’re the future son, get in here and see how it works,” I stated.
Ben’s eyes were wide with excitement as he walked into that old storefront of an Exxon gas station. He stayed beside me and appeared to be ready to soak up any and all knowledge he could from the experienced group that stood before him. “Adam, this is Ben. Ben this is Adam, your Major. Adam, Ben is your responsibility, Ben, do exactly as Adam tells you, no questions asked. Understood?”
“Sir, yes Sir,” came Ben’s reply.
“General Davies, the floor is yours,” I said.
Chapter 18
The Final Preparations
Return to Table of Contents
“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail”
—Benjamin Franklin
General Alexander, we have already discussed our thoughts on a plan of attack, and now I would certainly like to hear your thoughts,” General Davies said.
“Scout, draw a map of the school for us on this piece of cardboard,” General Thomas said. He threw the torn top off of an old pizza box onto the old weathered counter.
“How many men do you have?” he asked. The scout went to work with an old pencil that was so short he could hardly hold onto it.
“Sixteen hundred fifty,” I replied.
“So, with my men that gives us three thousand five hundred fifty,” he said drumming his right forefinger on his chin and looking at the map General Davies had placed on the counter.
“I would want to disable the drones and battle copters first. If we could coordinate that with one third of our men, a battalion, and coming in here from the south of the school,” he said, pointing at the map of the school the scout had just finished. “We will engage the Russians in battle and that will draw them out of the school and the tents. Once that battle gets going, we can have another battalion of our men come in from the east. That will set them on their heels a bit. The third battalion will watch from here,” he stated. He pointed at a cluster of trees on the north side of the school, on the cardboard. “Whenever the third battalion sees a need with the other two battalions, they will supplement, and assist. I will go in with the first battalion and work on the drones, copters, and preliminary attack. One of your Generals will go in with the second battalion. You, General Hornady, and the other General will wait for supplementation by the third battalion.”
Adam stood there, “Wow! That’s pretty good for spur of the moment. That is very similar to what we had originally planned. Now we have more men available.”
“Well, there will be other parts to the puzzle. We will have snipers scattered about taking shots when available. We will probably have the tank you acquired go in with the second wave. If you can get that battle copter you have working, it would be a very nice addition to the fight. We could use it to take out some of their copters. My only problem with the copter and tank you have is getting it in there quietly for a surgically precise attack. Ultimately, we may have to leave them here for another day.”
General Davies spoke up, “I would like to volunteer to lead the second battalion into combat, good man.”
I looked at General Davies, “No Sir. I will lead the second battalion. I have a date with The Bear and Emmet Forsyth.”
“As nice as that may seem to you General, the third battalion will give you the better opportunity to survey the field. You can look for them and plan your attack accordingly,” General Davies argued.
“He’s right Hornady. Third battalion is your spot for that strategic attack into the heart of their defenses. You’ll find Alexei there. I would not worry about Forsyth. Once Alexei is out, he’ll fold up like an accordion,” General Alexander said.
Realizing that they were both right, I relented. “Okay, third battalion it is.”
General Thomas had been standing there taking it all in, and finally spoke up. “The only thing left is to decide when to leave and at what point we break off into our battalions.”
Looking at the scout I said, “How long will it take you and the other two teams of scouts to get in place to watch their camp?”
“Five hours! Give or take an hour,” he replied.
“Unless someone has an objection, I would like the scouts to get set up and watch the camp!” Looking at my scout I continued, “You need to gather information on the current numbers of men on site, tank compliment, copter compliment, and drone compliment. There may have been changes since you were there last. And we will need to meet with you prior to our attack to finalize the plan. It is imperative that you gather all possible information for us, no matter how small the information may seem to you.”
General Alexander spoke up, “Corporal, we can meet at our old campsite where you intersected us. Say, tomorrow night at 1700 hours?”
“We can do that Sir. I will have two teams meet for the debriefing and will leave one onsite to continue to monitor the socialists. If we are not there tomorrow night, then you can plan on the worst case scenario,” the scout replied.
“So, you will leave now, and the rest of us will leave at 0800 tomorrow morning for a 1700 hours rendezvous at the old campsite. Any questions?” General Alexander asked looking at the group.
No one said a word as we all looked around at each other. “Dismissed!” I said forcefully.
As the Corporal was leaving the building, I stopped him by grabbing his left arm and turning him around to face me. “Be careful out there. It is paramount that we get accurate information, and we can’t get that if you all get yourselves captured or killed.”
“Roger that General,” he said as he turned and left the building.
“You’ve got some good scouts General,” I heard from behind me. I turned to see General Alexander standing there. He continued, “My guys never saw them or had any idea they were around scoping us out until they waltzed into camp waving that white flag.”
“They ought to be good, they were trained by the best,” I said.
General Alexander finally broke a smile and began to chuckle, “I guess that would be you?”
Looking him dead in the eyes and not blinking, “No Sir. My father,” I said, as I turned and left the building.
That night there was not much sleeping. I was like a kid on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow night our final plans will be set into motion and my date with The Bear will be imminent. I tossed. I turned. I turned, and I tossed. I’ve got to get some sleep I told myself. But I just could not. Finally, around 0300 hours I got up and walked back to my corner of the Exxon station. As I walked through the camp it was dead quiet. There wasn’t one soldier moving, everyone was fast asleep. I looked up on the ridge that over looked our camp and could see guards watching for us. As I approached the front of the Exxon station, I could see that General Alexander was already sitting in my spot.
“Good morning,” I said softly and sit
ting down in front of him.
“Good morning!” he replied in that firm tone. I saw that he was fiddling with something in his right hand. I looked down to see that he was twirling a knife around in his hand.
“I noticed you’re a knife man,” I stated.
“My specialty has always been edged weapons and I’m good with a gun,” he replied, looking across at me. Our eyes made contact and he continued, “I’m lethal with an edged weapon. I guess you could say it is a gift.”
“Everybody has a specialty I guess,” I stated continuing to look at him.
“To the contrary General Hornady. It’s not a specialty, it’s a damned curse,” speaking authoritatively. “When I was twelve years old, I killed three men who were raping my sister behind our barn. All I had was an old Benchmade pocket knife. I carved them up so good that a team of trauma surgeons couldn’t save a damn one of them!” He looked down at the twirling knife.
The Conspiracy of American Democracy - A Father's Revenge Page 14
