Solar Storm: Homeward Bound

by Vincent Keith

  “Got to admit, a few months’ back I was considering pulling it out. House gets too darn warm, and it takes too long to heat for a single guy who doesn’t like to cook anyway. But now? It’s my only source of heat. I did a little quick remodeling. That vent under the stove goes to the back bedroom. When the stove is stoked up, it creates a draft pulling cold air from the back, and pushing the warm air back that way. Work’s pretty good.”

  “I’ve got more or less the same setup, but I built it that way from the ground up. I’ve got an external vent too, to help move excess heat outside. Then again, my house is only seven hundred and twenty square feet, so excess heat is the norm. It lets me keep the windows open most of the time, which I like.”

  Eli nodded toward the table, “Shall we see what Aaron brought us to look at?”

  Aaron had covered the kitchen table with a variety of mechanical drawings and manuals. Jack spent several minutes digging through the stack of service manuals. Most were printed from online sources, but a few were originals. As he worked through the pile, he found a Canadian Defense manual for the Browning M2 .50 caliber machine gun. He glanced briefly at manuals for the M1917A1 and M191A4 machine guns. The MG-42 manual had both the original German and an English translation. The M1 Garand manual was an original which he set aside knowing he would probably need it. He slid the manuals to the side and flipped through the mechanical drawings. The last drawing caught his eye and he slid the sheet out and laid it on the top.

  “Seriously? A Lewis gun?”

  "Well, I've got five of them, and I think we can make a couple of them work. Maybe three? I've got spare barrels and a crate of magazines."

  “Do I even want to know how or maybe why?”

  “I bought a museum, well three actually, one in Belgium, and two here in the States. I was working on a deal to open a new museum. we just hadn’t figured out where yet.”

  “So there’s more?”

  "Yeah, lots but these and the M1 Garands are the only one's I'm sure I've got enough ammo to be useable. Well, that and the Tommy guns and the 1911s. And I guess maybe the Mosin-Nagants…

  “Anyway, they cut the MG-42 barrels during decommissioning, but I found four new barrels. Oh, and two of the receivers were cut in half, but I’ve heard those can be welded. I hope that works on the 1919 machine guns, because I’ve got 4 of them, but the receivers on two have been cut in half to decommission them. I’ve also got a dozen M1 mortars, all decommissioned. I think if we can replace the tubes we might get some of those working.”

  “Mortars? I don’t know guys. I’ve never even seen a mortar outside the movies. What about the fifty cal machine guns?”

  "Oh, those work. Or, I think they work. I've never tried them. Actually, I've never assembled them. Except the one mounted on the half-track which I know works because I tried it when I bought it. The half-track doesn’t now, but I have hope.”

  Eli looked at Aaron, “You realize that it’s illegal to have any automatic weapon in this state? Not that I’m complaining but, how the hell did they end up here.”

  “No, they’re legal here. I was working on the transfers when everything stopped working. They’re all listed as part of a military museum and… Um, the ATF think’s they’re all in Wyoming. That’s where I have them registered.”

  “Kinda moot,” said Jack.

  “Wait, you’re telling me you can own a machine gun in Oregon?” asked Eli. “Like I said, not complaining, just praying we don’t need them.”

  “Matter of fact,” said Jack, “yes, as long as you have the tax stamp. I can’t do it in Washington, but here, yes. It’s just—If you need this kind of firepower, you’ve got problems I wouldn’t wish on anyone… Well, almost anyone.”

  25

  RESTORING HISTORY

  Jack spent most of the evening going over the information provided by Aaron and working up a task list. Eli went out just after dinner to round up the machinist, and two guys with welding gear. While he was out Art showed up to talk about radios.

  Jack answered the knock at the door and found a heavyset black man in a green plaid Mackinaw wool coat and a dark brown fedora.

  "Hi, come on in out of the cold," said Jack as he stepped to the side to make room.

  “Art, Art Tatum”

  “I’m Jack Donovan.” Jack shook the man’s hand.

  “You look a little like Art Tatum, except he’d be a lot older if he were still alive,” said Jack.

  “Hah! Be damned, someone who knows who Art Tatum was.”

  “Big fan actually. I got it from Dad. He was a real jazz aficionado. Art Tatum was one of his favorite jazz pianists” Jack shut the door to block out the cold and reached out to shake the man's hand.

  “Yeah, I got it from my Dad too. The love of jazz and the name. I guess Tatum was a coincidence, but picking Art wasn’t. It works well enough for me. I suppose I should have picked up the Piano, but I was always more of a stand-up bass kind of guy.”

  “You play?” asked Jack as he motioned Art into the living room.

  “Every day. Got a band… well, I had a band, not sure what’s happened to the guys since, well…”

  “Yeah…” Jack nodded, “So, tell me about your station.”

  “I had a Kenwood TS-440. I loved that radio. I’ve got a hundred-foot tilt over tower I use for an inverted V trapped dipole for the eighty and forty-meter bands. And a sixty-foot collapsing tower with a hex beam. That’s for everything else down to two-meter.”

  “Nice, very nice. Any idea if they’re still working.”

  “It’s possible, they were all grounded, and I run homemade ladder line to the dipole. I can probably get the hex beam working even if the balun is fried. Not sure about the rotator, hard to point without it, and it’s very directional.”

  “Yeah, the guys down in Adin had enough spare gear in shipping containers that we could piece together a full set of antennas. I can lend you a radio to test with. But I need to get it back.”

  “It would be good to get some news, and I’m willing to do the work, even if it’s only for a few days.”

  “That’ll depend on a few things, how’s your CW?”

  “Morse Code? Good, forty words a minute when I work at it. Twenty-five is normal, but most folks don’t copy that fast. I got a big speed boost when I switched to a paddle style key.”

  “Wow, okay. On a good day, I can do maybe fifteen. Right now, I’d be hard pressed to manage five. The reason I ask is I’ve got a little Elecraft KX2 four band CW rig. It was my first radio, and it’s tiny, so I carried it everywhere. I’m ashamed to admit it, but when I got the KX3, I all but gave up on Morse code. I’ve been regretting it for the last several weeks, that’s for sure.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “The town needs a bunch of things, one of which is a working radio, and working radios are about as rare as anything right now. So I’m not inclined to let it go cheap. The problem is figuring out what you all have to trade that I need and can carry.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be much help. I don’t have much to trade,” said Ray. “My record collection ain’t worth nothing at this point although I think I might be able to get a tube amp working and the turntable still spins when there’s power.”

  "Damn, that would be tempting, but I've got no way to get it home. And frankly, I think my friends would shoot me if they knew I'd traded a working radio for a stack of vinyl. I think maybe we need to get Aaron and Eli in on this. A radio is, at this point, a town resource as much as anything. I've got plans for a few simple rigs you might build if you could find the working components, but…"

  "Yeah, we do sort of need a working model to test against, or there's no way to know if it works, short of get'n lucky."

  “Hey, Lexi?”

  Lexi wandered over sipping a huge mug of tea.

  “What’s up?”

  “I think tomorrow I’d like you to take the two radios over to Mr. Tatum’s and help him test his gear. He’ll mostly need a
n extra set of hands and maybe some introduction to the rigs.”

  “Okay.” She smiled, feeling very much the adult with her own responsibility.

  “And, take the iPad with you too. And let’s keep that quiet please.”

  Art looked at the pair, “Working radios? Really?”

  “Yeah, I still have two working radios, and the iPad has my log on it, and you’ll want to copy the contacts and net info. There are also a lot of documents, some of which are simple designs for radios unless you have some already?”

  “I’ve got quite a library of old radio books. I’ll spend some time thinking about it while I’m chopping wood, but I spend all my time cutting wood or working in the community garden. It’s the only way I can afford to eat. Now that I think about it, I’ve got a couple of unfinished projects I started a long time ago, maybe I can get one or two working.”

  “Ah, let’s see if we can’t get you freed up for more radio work. It would be better if you can get one of your rigs working. Soon as Eli gets back, we’ll talk it over. Matter of fact, Lexi why don’t you grab the KX2 and the manual and bring those out for Art to look over. And pay attention, Art’s probably forgotten more about radio and procedure than I’ve ever known.”

  Art tried not to smile but didn’t quite make it. Lexi skipped off down the hall, all long legs and flying ponytail.

  “Sweet kid,” he said.

  “Yeah, and damn sharp too. It looks like we’re going to be here for a few days at least. Part of that will depend on what I can negotiate for the work on the guns and the radio. I’ll tell you, if we didn’t have a few spares at home, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Art nodded, “Well I’m not going to hold my breath, I guess we’ll see how things work out.”

  Jack nodded. “The team down in Adin has been working the airwaves since we came through a couple of weeks ago. When I could last get through to them using the little end-fed twenty-meter antenna they’d made only forty-four contacts. It’s probably wishful thinking, but I’m hoping that more radio operators will come on the air when they’re sure they won’t damage their equipment. Others may be trying to get their rigs working again. I hope there are a lot of them just listening and not quite ready to join in. I’d hate to think we’ve got every station that’s still working already on the air. We’ve had no contacts with anyone in a major city since we started listening.”

  “Here you go mister Tatum,” said Lexi handing the radio and the manual to Art.

  “You call me Art darlin. Mister doesn’t sound right to me.”

  “Jack, can we rig up the NVIS and see if we can get through to Henry?”

  “That’s a good idea. Henry’s probably getting anxious, we missed our last two check-ins for lack of signal. Find your mom and let her know what we’ve got cooked up, I don’t want her getting too mad at me.”

  “As if,” said Lexi. She rolled her eyes and went back to the kitchen. Jack watched her go, wondering about the comment.

  “Not your daughter?”

  “No, long story, and not particularly pleasant, although she seems to be dealing with everything pretty darn well. The resiliency of youth I suppose.”

  “I gotta say Jack, I’m surprised you folks took the risk of even telling us about this.”

  “Well, I got a good vibe from Eli. How long has he been Sheriff here?”

  “Oh, I guess it’s been about three weeks.”

  “Wait, you’re saying he got the job right after the event?”

  “Yep, because of it. It’s a small town, and he was working as a Deputy for the County. With most of the vehicles dead, the radios, and the phones—well, we decided a town Sheriff was better than a nonexistent County Sheriff. Seems to be working out.”

  “What did you have before?”

  “Too small to have anything, just the county.”

  “Oh, sure, that makes sense.”

  “Yep, no mayor or anything. At least we have Eli now. He’s been a Godsend. I think we’d have been in real trouble without him.”

  Jack and Art chatted about how the town had handled the loss of technology and reports Jack had gotten from other areas on the radio. Art was primarily concerned about the reports of possible nuclear fallout. When Eli returned, Art waved him over to join the conversation.

  “Jack you’d best tell him about that radio report, even if we don’t think it’s real.”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe that it’s real, we just haven’t gotten any confirmation yet.”

  “What radio report?” asked Eli.

  Jack relayed the report they’d received in Adin about the nuclear exchange, and the possible fallout.

  “You’re traveling, so I’d guess you don’t put too much credence in it?”

  “I’ve got no choice, I suppose we could have stayed in Adin but then the food would have run out, and we might never make it home. If we’d gotten a couple more reports, or even just one, to confirm? I’m not sure what I’d have done, to tell the truth. The meter I got from Frank has shown no increase. We’re still way down in the safe zone.”

  “They’ve been monitoring down there? In Adin?”

  “Yes, there’s been a slight increase in radiation levels according to Frank, he’s the retired nuclear engineer. He thinks it might be related to what happened in Russia. Well, as of four days ago it’s still safe to travel. I’m going to try and get in touch with Adin and Henry…or Lexi will be in any case, probably tomorrow. I figured the rest of us should get busy on those guns.”

  “Great! I was hoping Aaron would convince you.”

  “It wasn’t Aaron, it was Art, and Rachael, and Lexi. Although I have to admit the project has its attractions.”

  "Either way, I appreciate it. If that son of a bitch thinks he's going to come into this town and turn us into serfs, he's going to have a surprise instead."

  “Only if we keep this quiet,” said Jack

  “Folks are going to figure out something is going on. So what do we tell them?” asked Aaron.

  “Don’t mention the radio gear. How many people know about the guns?” asked Jack

  “Aaron, did you tell anyone?” asked Eli.

  “Just the people in this room at this point. Never saw much point in talking about it until things went pear shaped, then I didn’t see any point in talking about it to anybody except you,” said Aaron.

  “Okay, good. So for now, it’s just the people here tonight,” said Eli. “I’ll talk to Jimmy Fisher about using his machine shop. He’s a pretty good machinist and I’m sure he’ll want to help. Other than that, let’s keep this between us.”

  “I’d suggest maybe you tell them we’re working on trying to get a couple of generators working, but downplay the possibility. You might go so far as to send a few folks out scrounging for alternators from dead cars. If they ask about the machine shop, maybe tell them we’re trying to rig up a power takeoff for one of the running trucks to drive a generator.”

  “Might work, most folks are too busy to pay much attention just now.”

  “We need to prioritize the work and get the weapons moved to the machine shop while no one is awake to be watching. After that, we just need to keep people out of the way.”

  “Aaron?”

  "The Garands are a more or less a sure bet, clean up, assemble, test. I just don't know what to look for to be sure they're safe. The Ma-Duce would be next. I think that's going to take some fitting of new parts, and swapping the barrel. I hope that's all. After that, it's a toss-up. The MG-42s, then the 1917A1 water-cooled machine gun, and four Browning 1919A4s. Two of the 1919s are truck mounted, and I've got tripods for the other two. The tripod versions of the M1919A4 are 7.62 NATO, everything else is 30-06. Then I guess the Lewis guns. Oh, and the mortars, but maybe we should save those for last. Unless you want to use the Tommy guns and the pistols."

  Jack chuckled as Aaron finished his breathless recitation of his available inventory. He’d been surprised, then shocked, then sort
of giddy at the extensive list. He looked at Aaron to be sure he’d actually finished and wasn’t just catching his breath before continuing.

  “Eli?” asked Jack. “It’s your town to defend. Will that work?”

  “It’s going to depend on how much ammo we have, and how long each gun will take,” said Eli. “Anything we can use for hunting should probably get done first. After that? I guess if I had to choose, I’d want the rifles first, then the belt-fed weapons, then anything that’s full auto. How much ammo do you have for the fifty caliber machine guns?”

  “Ten thousand rounds in links of the .50 BMG, with mixed tracers. I’ve got another twenty thousand rounds in boxes, a link tool, and a few crates of links. Thirty-five thousand rounds of 30-06, twenty thousand of those are in belts, and I’ve got more belts if we need them. Oh and forty-four thousand of the 7.62 but only twelve thousand of those are in links.”

  “Jesus Aaron, what the hell?” Eli sat back and scrubbed at this face.

  “A lot of it is surplus and some new stuff,” Aaron said in his defense. “I figured if I ever got the guns working I could start another annual full auto shoot-fest. People love those, and it would be good publicity for the Museum. Besides, it’s cheaper when you buy an entire warehouse.”

  Jack spit coffee on the drawing of the Lewis gun he was looking at and then quickly mopped it up with a dishtowel. “Good Lord, you don’t do anything by halves do you?”

  “What?” Aaron looked and sounded like he’d been wounded. “I thought this would be a good thing.”

  “It is a good thing, Aaron, it’s just… Jesus H. That’s a lot of ammo.” Eli shook his head in amazement.

  “Not so much when you’re running belt-fed machine guns.”

  “Got any other ammo?” asked Jack. He’d recovered from his shock and was taking perhaps a bit of pleasure from Eli’s reaction.