by J. B. Craig
“Jefe – big truck coming down approach road.” Esteban called on the radio from the lookout in the steel reinforced bed of the destroyed Deuce-and-a-half.
“Reinforcements coming your way.”, replied Greg. The day shift got on their Harleys and negotiated the mine road while the night shift was called up by Angel, who was holding the fort by the berm-gap detonators. After much planning and debating the best defense, the day shift’s job would be to get near the head of the minefield and lay their bikes across the path (not on a mine) in such a way that any invaders would have to go over the bikes, or onto version 2 of the community land mines – the leg exploder. There had been some improvements in the community defense systems. Gunny manned, or “womaned” the .50 caliber in the Eagle’s nest.
Greg got on his Harley, and roared to the first defensive bike, and gathered up his troops to approach the road.
Coming in was an Army 5-ton dump truck. It had twice the capacity of the deuce-and-a-half trucks, hence the name. It also had a much larger and taller footprint, since it carried twice as much cargo. Hanging out the passenger window and waving with her hands out, was Jennifer. “Hold your fire, Sheepdogs! Hold your fire! Friendly’s incoming, and am I glad to see you still here!” Jennifer yelled, with tears dripping off her cheeks.
Greg gave the ‘Clear, but not ALL clear’ sign that meant “safeties on, but rifles in the general direction of the possible danger.” The truck came to a stop. The sheepdogs complied, and circled the front of the truck, with Este coming down from the Deuce to check the back of the 5 ton. He looked up into the bed – possibly the only one of the dogs that could do so without stepping on the bumper. Then he shook his head and came around the back of the truck.
“It looks clear, Jefe. You might not like it, though!” Este shook his head and held position at the rear.
Jennifer dropped out of the passenger seat, and ran to Greg, hugging him. Her tears were still falling. Annie stuck her head out of the cab and yelled “Hi Greg!”
“Hi Annie!” Greg nodded and smiled she had grown in the last 2 months. He then turned to Jen and said “What’s up – is there trouble coming?”
Jennifer replied, “Yes, but no time soon. They’re busy raiding Dahlgren. It all fell. So much blood! We got away out a back gate. Many brave men gave their lives for us.” Here, her breath hitched. “Including Mike!” Then she sobbed and fell into Greg’s arm. Greg felt her resolve stiffen, and she said, “We have wounded that need help. We also have women, children, and all the supplies we could carry.”
Greg knew that a 5 ton could carry a lot of supplies. He got on the radio and called all able bodies to come out and help. He asked the guards who laid down the Harleys to clear a path through the field with the police tape they had salvaged.
“All of you who are mobile, please follow these gentlemen through the path that they lay with the yellow tape. Stay on the path – there are mines, and you’ve been through enough. 6 women and 4 walking children got out of the truck, 2 were carrying babies. After the back of the truck emptied out, Este gave Greg a boost into the bed to look around. There were 4 soldiers in various states of wounded. They looked like non-life-threatening injuries, but they were not going to be moving. Doc and Kim roared up in their bikes, and were directed to the bed of the truck, where they commenced triage.
Jen said, “Greg, organize the stretcher bearers. There are military stretchers rolled up right THERE”, as she pointed to a group of them. Greg started barking orders from the top of the truck, while giving words of comfort to those men not with Kim or Doc.
An unknown man came around the driver’s side of the truck, followed closely by Este. Greg looked down, and saw a man with a bloody arm, but in good shape otherwise. “And you are?”
“First Sergeant Emilio Garza” – You can call me “Top”. My men pushed me into the truck to evacuate the civilians – against my will. Unfortunately, they were also well trained, and I had no choice. My men died to save me, and these civilians and wounded.” Top’s words were bitter, and angry.
“Staff Sergeant, no longer active, Greg Creighton. Thank you for your sacrifice, and for bringing these civilians to safety, for however long that lasts. It looks like your men are being taken care of. Can you give me a high-level view of what the supplies you brought are?”
Top looked at his troops, being carried on stretchers to the field-hospital on the harbor and nodded in satisfaction. “Your troops are disciplined, and your medics are squared away. I think we’re going to get along just fine, Sergeant Creighton.”
“I hope so, Top. I’ve got a strong, small group of well-disciplined civilians, with one Marine Gunny and a retired Vietnam Vet. They keep treating me like an officer, so I sure could use your help getting them straight on the rank thing.”
“Well, you know a Gunnery Sergeant, at E-7, already outranks your E-6, so it looks like rank is going to be a fluid thing. For now, I’ll treat you like the Lieutenant in charge, since this is your fire base, and we’ll re-evaluate. On supplies, we’ve got the 3-B’s. Beans, Bullets and bandages. There’s a several cases of MRE’s that were pre-loaded, along with the handful of small-arms that we could carry to the truck. Based on what Jennifer told me about your skill-set, I was able to pack a few surprises for those bastards if they show back up, although I didn’t plan on being here to have the pleasure of using them to get some revenge. Can you get some men to carry these 4 crates, specifically, in first? Oh, wait.”
Top looked at Esteban and started barking orders in Spanish. He slid 2 of the crates to the edge, almost without effort, slung his .308 and threw a crate over each solider. After the reality of the situation hit him, the looked at Greg and asked, “OK Jefe?”
“Si Este, I’ll see you at the community center. Round up the non-wounded, unless Doc and Kim need helpers. Standard guard shift otherwise. We don’t know what’s coming. Call in our Navy and get the Galley crew cooking.” Greg threw a crate over his shoulder, and Top grabbed the last weapons crate. Greg wondered how strong Este was, because he was going to need to take a break on the walk back.
“That big guy has the Mortar Rounds. I’ll send back my team to get the plates and tube. You and I get to carry the Recoilless Rifle rounds.”
Greg danced he Snoopy dance up and down. “Tell me you have a 90MM, Top, Please!!!! These crates say that’s what’s in them!”
Top winked and gave a thumbs-up.
“Bill, keep watch from up here. If you see anyone coming, fire off a shot. It doesn’t look like you have a radio.”
“Si, Jefe”, smiled Bill. I got this. Send back some runners with a radio, and to get the rest of the supplies. I’ll stay on this station until end-of shift. Please get me up to speed at shift-change.”
“You got it. Hooaah, Bill.”
Top and Bill both said Hooah and smiled at each other.
“Follow the tape, Top. Everywhere else is a combination of toe poppers and leg blowers.”
“Leg Blowers?” asked Top.
“Top, I was a 12-B in the first Desert Storm. I don’t have any actual claymores, bouncing betties and other AP (Anti-Personnel) mines that they trained me on. Think of the leg blowers as bouncing betties that don’t bounce. They’ll kill a man, unlike a toe popper. In our first battle, we learned that toe poppers don’t do well against Harleys, although they do serve to disable the bikes. “
Top looked at Greg, and his respect meter went up another notch. “You led the battle that Mike told us about?”
“I don’t know about led it, Top. I fought in it, same as everyone else. I didn’t die, but I lost 3 good men. I don’t know if I’d call that leading. We all fought, we won, they ran.”
“Yeah, you led it. Nice job, Soldier!” I heard you killed over 40 and only lost 3. Don’t beat yourself up too hard – that’s a rare ratio there. Nothing to be ashamed of. A good defense can be expected to kill 3 to 1, if you need a comparison. Hooaaah!” and here Gunny smiled, “Jefe.”
“Well, we kil
led about 10 of them after the battle, mostly us veterans with our blades. I didn’t want my rookies to have the rough dreams that I have.”
“Greg, in this world, you kill them, or they come back stronger. You did the right thing.”
“That means a lot, Top. Let’s go to the Mess Hall, get you patched up, and debrief. Our back is covered by one of my best, if Bill doesn’t have to run!” Greg laughed. “He’s pushing 70, but he was at the Da Nang, and spent months in Cambodia, even though he was “never there”. He’s the real deal.”
Homecomings and bad news.
The residents and off-duty Sheepdogs were all in the mess hall, and heard a horrific tale of betrayal, subterfuge, and massacre, as told by Top.
First came a story of the Presidents Selective Service call-up. Calls had gone out to all State FEMA camps. Most were on military bases, and groups of National Guard, Active Duty and Law Enforcement were led by A Department of Homeland Security (DHS) leader. The went into the more populated areas, and the DHS leader took them to the addresses of anyone 18-30 years old, drafting them on the spot. Refusal to be drafted was treason. The other choice was execution.
These young men were brought to Dahlgren for an abbreviated BASIC training and were sent out with more teams with DHS leaders to recruit more. Uncle Sam was short on bodies, due to the outage, and the crimes happening all over the country. Uncle Sam DID have plenty of bullets and firearms, especially the M-4 that most were issued. The families and regular military somehow ended up billeted in a section of the base reserved for supplies, the families of the original Guard Units, and Law Enforcement families.
In that same area of the base there was also a small helicopter air-base and maintenance shed. Some of the Army’s helicopters were either EMP proof, or repaired, and they ferried supplies and DHS Personnel from the Military and FEMA caches throughout the country. Top didn’t see too many fixed wing aircraft still flying, but heard there were some out West.
The president had been evacuated to one of the Nuclear Proof strongholds and was running the country from there. About 1/3rd of the senators were stored away in various areas, but because there was a congressional recess at the time of the EMP, many were un-accounted for.
What nobody on the base except the bad guys knew was that many, if not most, of the draftees that were picked up later in the “draft” were plants from various local gangs. A few nights ago, top told him about the “Spark” of his confrontation at the HQ gate, and they turned their M-4’s on all of their non-gang recruits, as well as the regular military and law enforcement. With the barracks free of any “good guys”, they proceeded to storm the base, including opening the gate for access by the other motorcycle riders. The base fought back, led by Top’s quick thinking, and there were many lost on both sides, but the Guard and Law Enforcement were pushed back. The rallied around their families, and fell back, taking way better than 3-to-1 due to their superior training, but they didn’t have much better weaponry than the bikers.
In a last desperate attempt to save their families, they loaded as many supplies as they could easily, and got their surviving family members in the truck. Top’s remaining soldiers forced him into the truck, and sent them out the back gate, giving as much covering fire as they could. His last radio transmission was from his Mike, telling him that he was one of the last, and they were about to end it – for the guard. Then a huge fireball filled the corner of base where the last of the survivors were. Top saw it in the mirror, and for one of the first times in many years, shed a tear for his men, who gave all. That fireball turned into a second, and third, with numerous secondary explosions. Top listed the names of his surviving troops and vouched for the skills of all of them. They were mostly Rangers with a SWAT team member. Army Ranger Sgt. Jones, Marine Corporal Baker, PFC Newman (another Ranger) and Police Corporal Simmons were going to be an asset to the community, if they recovered.
Top told the group, but mostly Greg that 1 of the crates carried high-explosive (HE) Mortar rounds, the other had flares, and assorted other types of charges. He said that his guys could run a mortar without a problem. In the back of the truck was the tube, plates and aiming devices. The other 2 crates were rounds for the 90 MM recoilless rifle, which Top left behind the seat in the Deuce, under the stewardship of Bill.
The 90 MM, or Ninety-Mike-Mike was, basically, a bazooka. It was a tube that you loaded from the rear, and the back-blast shooting out of the back of the tube was supposed to counter the projectile coming out of the front, making it recoil-less. Greg had trained with the 90MM in the Army and couldn’t have been happier. This was better than the Ma-Deuce. It had a much slower rate of fire, and was best used if 2 people manned it, one shooter and one loader. So, there was much less lead going down-range, but there was a much bigger, high-explosive BOOM. Top brought one crate each of High Explosive (HE) and Anti-Personnel Flechettes. The second type was made for turning men into shredded men-burgers.
The backpacks that Jennifer saw loaded into the truck ended up having a variety of anti-personnel mines, including, joy of joys, Actual Claymore AP mines with blasting caps and detonators.
The last present that Top brought was a world-band, or HAM radio, along with enough wire to rig a decent antenna. They would be able to hear news of the world with this thing.
All in all, the Rock Army just acquired some tremendous fighting assets. Unfortunately, it sounded like the bikers had recruited a lot of new bad guys. He hoped most of them were taken in the explosion that Mike give his life to make happen in Dahlgren.
Expanding the Sheepdog Army
The selfless soldiers at Dahlgren were seasoned and battle tested. They were smart enough to load not only bad-ass soldiers, but those that they knew could still defend the civilians, and who would make it with moderate medical treatment. Over the course of the next few days, Top made sure the truck was emptied of the rest of the supplies, and then he worked with Greg, Gunny, and Angel to set up the best defense possible.
Several of the women had lost their husbands in Dahlgren and wanted to be trained to “get some” back from the bad guys. Jennifer was one of those women. She had asked Greg if she could have a room near his in the Mansion and she and Annie were put right next door, at the insistence of Este, who had become Greg’s bodyguard, whether he wanted him or not. Este himself moved all the personal items out of the room next to Greg’s, even though Angel protested at being moved forcibly. Este explained to Angel that he had a nice, spacious corner for him on the 3rd floor, and Angel moved there without any more complaint. Este was a gentle giant, but when he set his mind to something, he was un-stoppable.
Top had a conversation with Greg about the 90MM, and after quizzing him, was convinced that Greg should run the 90MM. Nobody else on the peninsula except Top and the 3 Rangers had worked with one. Top and Greg also agreed that the front of the peninsula was heavily fortified, and they needed some heavy artillery at the rear. Jennifer insisted that she be trained as a loader, and Greg and Jennifer spent a few days drilling with practice rounds, until Greg and Top was comfortable that Jennifer had it covered. She was now a 90MM loader. She still carried her .357 revolver, and Greg insisted that she get trained up on the Mauser, because once the 30MM was loaded, she could snipe from their position.
Top wanted his Rangers to run the Mortar, with a radio so he could walk in the rounds from a forward spotter, who would be the Marine. The third ranger was paired with Angel and trained him on how to call in mortar fire from a position near the approach road. They had a highly-camouflaged deer trail so they could pull back from the road, and view the battle from a sniper hide near the front of the berm. This way, if the bikers got through the trail, they would have fire called in on them from behind them, while being sniped at the same time.
Este’s self-declared firing position was from the third-floor window. After a loud and long argument in Spanish, Top agreed that Este had a “good idea” and let that be his fighting position. Nobody had said no to Este yet, whe
n had an idea, and was persistent about it.
The last Ranger, Sergeant Jones, was made the other team lead, opposite Gunny. Top, Gunny and Sgt. Jones had a lot of inter-service trash-talk, and grudgingly, agreed that Gunny knew her shit. She wasn’t a Ranger, so took the day-shift lead, with Sgt. Jones taking the night-shift lead.
One of the women who came in the 5-ton wanted to contribute but had never used a gun. She had, however fished her whole life, especially with her husband, a deputy sheriff from Fredericksburg. She wanted to stay true to his memory and contribute to the community. With this pronouncement, Greg was pulled from the fishing crew, and was back on security rotation, almost exclusively stationed in the Osprey nest.
Somehow, despite his best efforts, Greg was relegated to “the officer” role by all of the Enlisted men. He was given his “bazooka”, and was consulted on his demolition designs. He was clearly among better tactical soldiers, but still had valuable input on strategic issues, especially obstacles and position placement.
The Brain Trust
One day, when the leadership group, consisting of Gunny, Angel, Top, Sgt. Jones met in Greg’s original house, below the Osprey nest. Joining them were the Chiefs of the respective teams: Mess hall Ethel, Doc, Greg’s ever-present shadow, Este, and Sam. Jennifer also showed up, and when questioned why she was there, pointed down the hall and said, “That’s my bedroom, this is my house too.” Top knew that voice and shut up.
