Founders (34 page)

From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!

Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto, “In God is our trust.”

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

This was the first time the Ben had ever heard the usually omitted later verses. Like many others who were gathered, the lyrics moved him to tears.

Then Andy Laine stepped up to the microphone and pulled a sheet of handwritten notes from his ACU shirt pocket. “My only regret,” he began, “is that I didn’t join the Resistance sooner. I’m from New Mexico, and it took a long time for the ProvGov to become a threat to our liberty there. If I had only known the full depth of the ProvGov’s crimes, I would have joined the fight sooner.”

Andy cleared his throat, and went on:

I’m not an eloquent speaker, so I don’t have the proper words for this sort of momentous occasion. I will just let the words of our Founding Fathers express my sentiments. First, I’d like to quote from George Washington, the man who could have been appointed our nation’s king, but who humbly demurred. In his farewell address to his cabinet, Washington said:

“Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it simply be asked: Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge in the supposition that morality can be maintained without
religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle. . . . Observe good faith and justice toward all nations. Cultivate peace and harmony with all. Religion and morality enjoin this conduct; and can it be that good policy does not equally enjoin it?”

Next, a brief quote from Alexander Hamilton, from one of his many writings in
The Federalist Papers
:

“The fabric of American empire ought to rest on the solid basis of the consent of the people. The streams of national power ought to flow from that pure, original fountain of all legitimate authority.”

And finally, a quote from Thomas Jefferson:

“The people of every country are the only guardians of their own rights and are the only instruments which can be used for their destruction. It is an axiom in my mind that our liberty can never be safe but in the hands of people themselves, that, too, of the people with a certain degree of instruction.”

Andy bowed his head and prayed aloud solemnly, “Almighty God, we beseech thee, oh Lord, to again extend thy covenantal blessings on America. We realize that we deserve only your righteous wrath. But we have repented and we beg ye, oh Lord, for thy mercies upon us. We pray for thy providence and protection, as well as that by thy Holy Spirit that thou would grant wisdom and restraint for the new Congress that we elect. We pray this in the name of Christ Jesus, Amen.”

Then Ed Olds stepped up onto the base of the flagpole. With
many people recognizing him, the crowd began cheering. Like Andy, Ed’s MultiCam uniform now had a full-color American flag patch on the right shoulder, and a “U.S. ARMY” tape where the “UNPROFOR” tape had been a day earlier. He raised his hand in a slow wave, and waited for the crowd to quiet down.

With the mobile PA system, Olds announced: “Ladies and gentlemen, here we stand, on Independence Day, once again independent.”

This inspired a huge wave of applause and cheering that went on for nearly two minutes. Finally, Olds continued. “The war of resistance was leaderless, so this puts us in an interesting position. Rather than have some individual declare, ‘I’m in charge,’ we are recognizing that
we
, the People, are in charge. As an active duty soldier, I recognize that you are our employers.
I’m
certainly not in charge, and I’m the officer who relieved the post commander. He was a quisling and a crony of Maynard Hutchings. The officer corps certainly isn’t calling the shots. That’s
your
job, ladies and gentlemen. I urge you to re-form a limited, and in fact
minimalist
Constitutional government, from the grass roots up. The county governments are key to this.”

A woman in the crowd shouted loudly, “That’s right!”

Olds continued, “We don’t need a
new
Constitution. The existing one—the one that was briefly discarded—can still work fine, if the separate powers can be kept in check, and the original intent of the Framers is heeded. So once again, as Ben Franklin said more than two centuries ago, I’m here to announce: ‘It’s a Republic, if you can keep it.’”

There was a huge round of applause.

The applause finally died down and Olds added, “And
beware.
I’m glad Andy Laine quoted George Washington—because he was very prescient. Washington wisely advised us to beware. He once wrote: ‘Government is not reason; it is not eloquence; it is force. Like fire, it is a dangerous servant and a fearful master.’”

There was a cascade of applause, and a man in the crowd shouted,
“Veritas!”

Immediately after the anthem and speeches, Ed Olds and Andy Laine were introduced to some of the militia members, including Ben Fielding, Brent Danley, and the Old Man. It was not until they discussed where they had been operating that Andy recognized the men from the intelligence dispatches. He had an “aha” moment when he realized that Ben was the resistance fighter known variously as “Mister Green Jeans” and “Bloody Ben,” in reports.

Ben, Brent, and the Old Man had infiltrated into Fort Knox five days before on foot. But they departed in a liberated Ceradyne Bull mine protected vehicle, with Brent behind the wheel. There was heavy traffic in both directions on Bullion Boulevard—traffic like none of them had seen since before the Crunch. The traffic was slow, as revelers honked their horns and slowed to watch spontaneous celebrations and fireworks.

As they passed the Chaffee Gate, Ben leaned forward from the rear seat and asked the Old Man, “So now that we’ve won, how about you finally let us know your family name? I’d like to keep in touch.”

The Old Man made no reply. He dipped his head and looked deep in thought.

Brent turned the vehicle south onto the Dixie Highway, and glanced over at him. He continued to look contemplative. Finally, the Old Man shook his head and said with a laugh, “I’ve told you before, Ben, you don’t have a
need
to know. I think it’s best that now we all just humbly fade back into the woodwork.
Especially
our recon team. After what we’ve done—I don’t know about you—but I’ve got some mixed feelings. We killed almost as many men from Shreveport and San Antonio as we did from Stuttgart. So I’d rather just put it all behind me and make a fresh start.”

They drove on in silence for another minute, and then the Old Man asked, “Say, can you drop me off down at the Cav Store?”

Brent answered, “Sure, my pleasure.”

A few minutes later, they pulled into the U.S. Cavalry Store
parking lot. A group of teenage boys and girls were there, setting off smoke grenades and launching military pop flares, with many hoots and hollers. The group was boisterous, with one of the boys shouting, “A Fourth of July to remember!” In the distance, they could hear the sporadic detonations of artillery simulators and what they presumed were grenade simulators.

The three men stepped out of the vehicle and reached into the rear cargo compartment to pull out the Old Man’s MOLLE vest, rucksack, and well-worn suppressed MP5-SD submachinegun. To do so, they had to move a couple of cases of hand grenades and untangle the slings of eight captured guns, including a German MG4 light machinegun. Without any flourishes, the Old Man shouldered his gear. They shook hands and he said quietly, “See you on the other side, gents. God bless you.” He turned and strode away.

Brent and Ben sat lost in their thoughts for a while before Brent restarted the engine. They were both blinking, fighting back tears. Then Ben asked, “Can you give me a ride home?”

“You betcha. Where would that be?”

“Muddy Pond, Tennessee. It’s about a four-hour drive from here. I’d love to make it back there this evening.”

“My pleasure.”

Ben grinned and said, “I’ll introduce you to my wife and kids. I got word that they’re doing just fine.”

As Brent pulled out of the lot and back onto the Dixie Highway, again heading south, he said, “Okay, but I can’t stay long at your place. I’ve got a long drive home to Vermont.”

They pressed on through Radcliff amid the revelry, including several UN flags being burned. Boom boxes and car stereos were playing mostly patriotic music. Appropriately, on one street corner a boom box was playing the old Roger McGuinn song “Dixie Highway.” At various places they drove through clouds of smoke in white, red, yellow, and violet. “How’d they get hold of so many smoke grenades so quickly?” Ben asked.

“Oh, I suppose the same way that you accumulated your little gun collection back there.” Ben thrust his thumb over his shoulder toward the vehicle’s cargo compartment for emphasis, and said laconically, “They weren’t nailed down, so they just mysteriously ended up in private hands.”

“I noticed that you snagged a couple of extra M4s complete with PVS-14s, that TAM-14 thermal sight, and a few Claymore satchels, too,” Brent countered.

Ben nodded. “As they say, ‘To the victor go the spoils.’ They’re just a few war trophies that double as insurance.”

“Insurance?”

“Yeah, an insurance policy for my family to keep at home. Just in case another joker like Maynard Hutchings ever pops up.”

Brent let out a breath. “God forbid that should happen in our lifetimes, or in our children’s.”

“If the representatives of the people betray their constituents, there is then no resource left but in the exertion of that original right of self-defense which is paramount to all positive forms of government, and which against the usurpations of the national rulers may be exerted with infinitely better prospect of success, than against those of the rulers of an individual State. In a single State, if the persons intrusted with supreme power become usurpers, the different parcels, subdivisions, or districts of which it consists, having no distinct government in each, can take no regular measures for defense. The citizens must rush tumultuously to arms, without concert, without system, without resource; except in their courage and despair.”

—Alexander Hamilton, writing as Publius,
The Federalist Papers,
Number 28

The UN’s own barbed wire internment camps made a convenient place to put the UN soldiers while they were waiting to go home. It took more than a year to send the UN forces back to Europe by ship and airplane. All of their vehicles, aircraft, and weapons stayed in the United States. This caused nearly as much acrimony as the reparations and the delays in returning their troops.

The Europeans chafed at being billed for the demobilization
and troop transport. The “return bounty” reparation was fifty ounces of gold per enlisted soldier, 200 ounces per officer, and 500 ounces per civilian administrator, payable before delivery.

Recognizing that the foreign troops would soon be out of the United States, the RCG scrambled to reestablish NORAD and its nuclear deterrent. Trident missile submarines returned to port, and the nuclear missile silo LCCs at Malmstrom AFB were remanned.

Maynard Hutchings spent seven months in hiding in Brussels. He committed suicide just before his scheduled extradition hearing. Most of his civilian staff and a few divisional and brigade commanders were eventually extradited from Europe, given trials, and shot. Hundreds of lower-ranking military officers and local quislings were arrested and similarly put on trial. Sentences included head shavings and brandings. In a few rare cases, there were death sentences.

Only a few UN troops who professed fear of retribution if they were returned to their home countries were granted asylum. Each of these individuals was given a separate hearing by the RCG. Most of them eventually bought citizenship.