Phoenix Rising pr-1

by William W. Johnstone

  I’m going to ask the two officers of the SPS who are standing here to display one of the two banners that are behind me now.

  The two men removed one of the banners from its stand, then spread it out so it could be seen. The logo Ohmshidi had described was in the center of the flag.

  This symbol, placed upon a pure white field, will be the new flag of our nation, proclaiming to the world that we are a nation of peace and a nation that safeguards our environment. For far too long, the red, white, and blue stars and stripes flag has, in song and story, represented us as a bellicose nation, too eager to go to war at the slightest, or even perceived, provocation.

  I am ordering today that, with immediate effect, this new flag replace the Stars and Stripes as our national standard. I am further declaring that the display of the old flag, or any previous national symbol, such as the representation of an eagle, on public or private property, to be declared a seditious act. The wearing of a flag pin on the lapel is also prohibited. Accordingly, I have given orders to the SPS to arrest anyone who displays the old flag so that they may be brought to justice. Further, singing of the song “The Star-Spangled Banner” is hereby prohibited, and violators will be prosecuted. Any newspaper that publishes an article in opposition to this act will be shut down, and the author of the article, as well as the publisher of the newspaper will be arrested. Talk radio and opinionated television commentators are here and now cautioned that public protest over this will be regarded as an act of sedition and they will be arrested. In addition, any radio or television station that carries this seditious programming will be shut down, confiscated, and given to those citizens who are loyal to me, and to the new paradigm I am bringing about. This is absolutely necessary if we are to have a clean break with our troubled and misguided past.

  And finally, I have changed the name of our country to the New World Collective. This is in keeping with my determination to make our nation a beacon to the rest of the world—a leader in peace, progress, and real equality for all humankind. I am ordering all government documents from henceforth to represent not only our new national symbol, but also our new name.

  As I am sure you will understand, a new nation will require a new constitution. Accordingly I have declared the constitution of the nation once known at the United States of America to be null and void. I am having a new constitution written, one that will insure an equitable distribution of wealth among all its peoples, and one that will take into account the necessity of efficiency of government, by providing the president with absolute authority.

  And now I make this promise to you. I will work tirelessly to make this new nation succeed, but I cannot do it alone. Much sacrifice will be required from you, so I ask all of you to do your part, and to report to the authorities anyone you see who, by word or deed, commission or omission, may be undermining the authority of your president.

  I will close this broadcast with the words and music of the new national anthem, as sung by the Children’s Choir of the Tranquility School of Baltimore.

  Thank you, and long live the New World Collective.

  The camera moved then to a group of children all wearing choir robes with the new O symbol upon their chests, singing what was to be the new national anthem. As they sang, the words rolled across the screen.

  Unbreakable New World Collective

  Our people loyal and true

  To Ohmshidi, our Leader

  We give all honor to you.

  (Chorus) Glory to our great leader

  May he remain right and strong

  The party of the faithful

  Ohmshidi to lead us on!

  In the New World Collective,

  We see the future of our dear land

  And to the Ohmshidi banner,

  In obedience shall we stand!

  (Chorus) Glory to our great leader

  May he remain right and strong

  The party of the faithful

  Ohmshidi to lead us on

  “Jesus, Ellen, I never thought I would live to see something like this happen. This must be the way the Germans felt when they realized what Hitler was doing to them.”

  “Surely this can’t go on,” Ellen said. “Someone will stop it.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. Congress? The Supreme Court?”

  “He controls Congress, they don’t control him. And he got rid of the Supreme Court and replaced it with his own court. And, you heard him say it yourself: he has declared the Constitution to be null and void.”

  “Then we will vote him out,” Ellen said.

  “You are assuming there is going to be another election,” Bob said.

  “He can’t stop the elections, Bob. The people won’t let him.”

  “Ohmshidi stopping the next election isn’t the problem,” Bob said. “The problem is we will no longer be a nation by the time the next election is due.”

  Fort Rucker—Thursday, June 21

  At Fort Rucker the next morning the Stars and Stripes flag was run up the flagpole; then a cannon shot was fired and the bugle call for Retreat Ceremony was played. Normal procedure for retreat was for all soldiers, wherever on the base they may be, to stop what they were doing. If they were driving, they were required to stop alongside the road, get out, face the flag even if they couldn’t see it, and salute.

  That was exactly what was happening now, though many wondered if there was some sort of mistake. Retreat was at the end of the duty day, not at the beginning.

  On the parade ground as Retreat sounded, a soldier slowly, and stately, lowered the Stars and Stripes. Then, very deliberately, and with as much dignity as could be mastered, two soldiers folded the flag into a triangle shape, so that only the blue field showed, without even a trace of the red. The flag was presented to a sergeant, who then presented it to General Clifton von Cairns. After presenting the flag, the sergeant took one step back and saluted. Von Cairns stuck the folded flag under his left arm, then returned the sergeant’s salute.

  “Sergeant, dismiss the detail,” the general ordered.

  “Shall we hoist the new flag, sir?” the sergeant replied.

  “No. Dismiss the detail.”

  A broad grin spread across the sergeant’s face. “Yes, sir!” he said, proudly. Then he did a smart about-face and called out, “Retreat detail dismissed!”

  General von Cairns walked back into the headquarters building and into his office. Once inside his office, he closed the door, opened the drawer of his desk, took out a bottle of whiskey, removed the cap, then turned it up to his lips. He had long ago quit using a glass.

  Base hospital, Fort Rucker—Wednesday, June 28

  Colonel Ruben Sturgis, MC, the hospital commander, called his staff together. At one time there were twenty doctors, forty nurses, and sixty enlisted personnel on duty at the hospital. Today there were two doctors, three nurses, and one sergeant present for the meeting.

  “Dr. Urban, you are the chief surgeon now, so this comes under your bailiwick. Effective immediately we are to provide no more care to retired personnel, nor to those who are qualified under VA,” Colonel Sturgis said.

  “What are we to do with those we have now?” Dr. Urban said.

  “Discharge them,” Sturgis said.

  “Colonel, we have three in intensive care. If we discharge them immediately, they will die before nightfall.”

  “What is their prognosis?” Sturgis asked.

  “I’ll let Dr. Presley answer that,” Urban said.

  “Not good,” the younger of the two doctors said. “The truth is, I doubt any of them will live to the end of the week. They are all three in extremis, and we simply don’t have the medication to treat them.”

  Colonel Sturgis drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, keep them. Discharge the ones that we can, and admit no one new.”

  “Colonel, we have no orderlies left,” Julie said.

  “How many enlisted personnel do we have left?” Colonel
Sturgis asked.

  “I’m the only one.”

  “It isn’t just the enlisted personnel,” Karin said. “As far as I know, we are the only nurses left.” Karin took in the other two nurses with a wave of her hand.

  “How many patients do we have now?”

  “We have seven,” Julie said. “Four retired, two VA, and one active duty.”

  “What is the condition of the active-duty patient?”

  “I took out his appendix yesterday,” Dr. Presley said. “I was going to release him this afternoon.”

  “Release everyone, except the three who are in ICU,” Sturgis said.

  “Alright,” Dr. Urban said.

  Sturgis pursed his lips, then let out a long breath. “Just so you know, I have submitted my retirement papers. That was just a formality, I don’t expect DA to act on them. Hell, I’m not even sure there is a DA anymore. I’m leaving tomorrow morning, no matter what. And if I leave, I don’t intend to hold any of you here. Chances are we aren’t going to even have an army within another month, if we last that long.”

  “We were going to ask you about that,” one of the nurses said. “Linda and I were planning on leaving tomorrow.”

  “I’m going as well,” Dr. Presley said.

  “Will no one be here for the three ICU patients?” Sturgis asked.

  “I’ll stay until the end of the week,” Dr. Urban said.

  “I’ll stay as well,” Karin said.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Julie said.

  “Look, I’ll stay too if you need me,” Sturgis said. “I feel bad about deserting you at a time like this.”

  “We can handle it, Colonel,” Dr. Urban said. “Hell, there’s nothing to do but watch them die anyway.”

  Sturgis looked at what was left of his staff, then nodded. “I don’t know where we are going from here,” he said. “But it has been a privilege to work with you. All of you.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Wednesday, July 4

  Hello, Americans.

  Today is Independence Day. For two hundred and thirty-four years, our nation honored this historic occasion. Even when our country was young, it was a cause for joy and celebration. In the great cities and small towns, parades were held, patriotic music was played, there were barbecues and fireworks, and baseball games.

  When you think about it, Baseball was America, wasn’t it? Babe Ruth, Stan Musial, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Derek Jeter.

  George Gregoire paused for a long moment, his voice choking. He wiped a tear, then continued.

  But—those days are no more.

  It isn’t just no more barbecues, no more fireworks, no more baseball. America itself, is no more.

  When I first warned you of the danger we were facing under the evil, and yes, evil is the only word I can use to describe this tyrant, this evil Ohmshidi, I prayed long and hard that I would be wrong. But I wasn’t wrong. In fact, if I made any mistake, it was in not being forceful enough.

  Thomas Jefferson once said: “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.” Winston Churchill said: “If you will not fight for the right when you can easily win without bloodshed; if you will not fight when your victory will be sure and not too costly; you may come to the moment when you will have to fight with all the odds against you and only a small chance of survival. There may even be a worse case: you may have to fight when there is no hope of victory, because it is better to perish than to live as slaves.”

  My fellow Americans—yes, I said Americans, not World Collectives—that time has come! I am calling upon all Americans to rise up against the despot Ohmshidi!

  The Stars and Stripes appeared on screen, with the music of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The flag was replaced with scenes of U.S. Air Force jets flying in a diamond formation; that was replaced with a Navy destroyer at sea; and that was replaced with Army tanks rushing across a desert.

  Then, suddenly the music stopped and the screen went black. After a moment, a placard was placed on the screen.

  By order of Mehdi Ohmshidi,

  Supreme Leader, New World Collective,

  Broadcasting on this network has been

  suspended for engaging in acts of sedition

  Fort Rucker—Monday, July 16

  Although it had been some time since the president ordered a seventy-five percent reduction in force, no RIF orders had come down. That was understandable as there was almost a complete breakdown at all levels of the military, and the Pentagon was no longer issuing orders. Fort Rucker was a mere shadow of itself, practically a ghost town now, with only a few hundred soldiers still present for duty.

  At this point, “Present for duty” was nothing more than an entry in the morning report, or it would have been if company clerks were still filing morning reports. But morning reports were no longer being filed because there were very few company clerks remaining and many of the clerks who did remain had no first sergeants or company commanders to validate the reports. Four fifths of the buildings on the base stood vacant, the classrooms and training facilities were empty, entire companies of the TO&E units were gone, and the base headquarters was just a shell with no more than two or three officers and NCOs still reporting for duty.

  Those soldiers who were still reporting to their duty station did so as a matter of habit, and because they had nowhere else to go, or nothing else to do. They tried to hang on to a semblance of the lives they had before all this happened by coming to “work” though all they did was play hearts, bridge, poker, and blackjack. They gambled hundreds of dollars on every card, losing or winning with aplomb because, increasingly, money was losing its meaning. Most of the lower-ranking soldiers who did remain on the base did so only because the Army was still supplying them with quarters and food.

  But even that was not a guarantee. The mess halls had not had a new delivery in the last two weeks, and the post was running critically low on provisions. Also there were few cooks remaining so, more often than not, the preparation of the food was being done by the soldiers themselves.

  The stimulus package of one hundred thousand dollars issued by Ohmshidi, who now called himself Supreme Leader, to individuals to “jump-start” the economy, had long ago been used up. Those who cashed their checks immediately realized some benefit. Those who deposited their checks in the bank had money on paper, but not in reality, as a cascading closure of banks all across the country left much of the deposited money in limbo and unaccounted for.

  By now, it made little difference what the money was worth anyway, as there was a steadily decreasing availability of goods and services. Automobile factories had shut down long ago, including foreign car companies, but the auto industry wasn’t the only production stopped. No longer was there any major manufacturing of any kind, from aircraft, to household appliances, guns, and furniture, to clothing. In addition, food-processing plants had stopped so that no canned, frozen, or packaged food was being produced, and the food remaining in the nation’s inventory was being used up at an alarming rate.

  The value of stocks plummeted so far that there were no viable stocks remaining, and the market stopped all trading. Gasoline was rationed to five gallons per family, per week. The posted cost of gasoline, mandated by the government, was two hundred dollars per gallon, but the rationing and the cost were meaningless, as there were fewer and fewer service stations that actually had gasoline. Those few stations that did have gasoline would no longer sell for any amount of money, but would exchange it for something tangible. Bartering had become the new medium of exchange, and farmers and gardeners who had eggs, chickens, pigs, and vegetables became the new wealthy.

  Unlike the Great Depression of the 1930s, when people who had cash were able to weather the storm, money meant nothing in this economy. Millionaires, and those billionaires who had managed to hide their money from Ohmshidi’s “equalization” confiscation, discovered that it was all for naught. Those with assets in cash, stocks, and bonds,
were totally wiped out.

  Eventually all transportation came to a halt—the airlines halted operations, trains quit running, trucks stopped rolling. The interstate highway system had no traffic, though that wasn’t to say that it had no cars. It had become the final resting place for millions of cars. There was a forced egalitarianism among automobiles, whether new and luxurious, or old and austere; they contributed equally to the national graveyard of vehicles, sitting alongside each other, abandoned right where they had run out of gas.

  The trailers of the abandoned trucks had all been forced open and emptied of whatever cargo they might have been carrying. The state police no longer patrolled the roads and highways and, on those interstates not blocked off by parked cars, drivers who had gasoline, and who were foolish enough to waste it, could drive over one hundred miles per hour without worrying about a traffic ticket.

  At Fort Rucker, as at nearly every other military base, the post exchange, commissary, and clubs were all closed. Aircraft sat unattended on the flight lines of all five Fort Rucker airfields. There was no traffic of military vehicles, and even the MPs, the few who remained, stayed in their quarters, or reported to the office only out of a sense of habit. Like the city and state police all across the nation, law enforcement was nonexistent.

  The Daleville and Ozark gates were unattended, which meant the post could be entered by anyone, military or civilian, and there were increasing numbers of civilians wandering around the base to see what they could take, scavenging without opposition from any of the soldiers, most of whom were now scavenging for their own survival.