“That’s a pretty somber assessment, Bill,” said Veronica, wishing he would have been a little more upbeat. “What are some of the more positive things you are seeing?”
“It’s all relative, Veronica. Perhaps we have to look at what we are
not
seeing in Mankato to better understand our success. Several surrounding communities, for instance, have experienced rising crime rates, civil unrest, higher suicide rates, and a growing homeless population. We’ve not seen this in Mankato, and I attribute much of it to the Life Challenges Co-op and similar organizations now operating here.”
The audience applauded his answer in a show of gratitude and community pride.
“Can you be more specific, Bill?”
“I can cite many positives, but the greatest to me is the value of ‘we’ that all of us have learned.
We
have been able to pool and organize our resources to do what we couldn’t do on our own. In the process, we’ve learned to live with less, but we have what we
need.”
“Thanks, Bill, we all appreciate so much what you do,” Veronica said with affection in her voice. She then turned to Virgil Tonnemaker, a thirty-eight-year-old teacher, and asked, “Virgil, what can you share with us tonight?”
“It’s been a real learning experience for me,” he replied. “I paid little attention to energy or the environment prior to the crisis last fall. Then, as energy prices skyrocketed, the co-op showed me how I could maintain a reasonable lifestyle and still use far less energy than I had before. Little things like weatherproofing my house, turning lights off, driving less; they all added up. Now I ask myself, why didn’t it register with me before that using energy wisely makes good economic sense? It’s also far friendlier to the environment.”
For the next thirty-five minutes the panel shared similar stories with an appreciative audience. Veronica then introduced the evening’s member testimony with, “I would now like to ask Helen Larkin to share with you her experiences over these past six months. Helen….”
“Thanks, Pastor Veronica. My name is Helen Larkin. I’m a forty-two-year-old divorcee with a twelve-year-old daughter, and I’m a lifelong resident of Mankato. Shortly after all the happenings last fall, I lost my job as a credit manager at the Le Plume department store. This was before the store closed down for good in December. I had saved very little and lost most of my 401(k) money in the market. With virtually no child-support money coming in, no savings, no job, and no prospects, I was at my rock-bottom low with little hope.
“I started coming here right after the co-op was formed and got active in it as both a recipient of its services and as a volunteer. It was a godsend for me, and it changed my life. Shortly after I joined up, the co-op came out and weatherized my two-bedroom house for me. We kept the thermostat at sixty degrees, and I was able to pay my utility bill and stay in my home, thanks to the financial assistance arranged through the co-op’s banking contacts.
“There were no jobs available in Mankato, but I was able to find part-time work in a recycling operation near St. Peter. Problem is, I had no transportation. I had to get rid of my car—couldn’t afford the gas, anyway—but I went online, and through the co-op’s transportation matrix, I was able to hook on to a ride-share arrangement. I did what I could to pull my own weight, and I’m proud to say I didn’t have to take any government assistance—not that any was available. My daughter also chipped in by volunteering at the co-op’s daycare on weekends.
“Are we out of the woods yet? No, not by a long shot. I doubt I’ll ever make what I did prior to the crisis, and I think it’s going to be a long time before Mankato gets back on its feet. The shock waves have just been too severe for any quick turnaround.
“But it hasn’t all been bad. I’ve found things I never would have in the old days. I have come to appreciate the power of God working in all of us. It seems to me like He works through each of us as we help others, and in the process, we help ourselves. He has not given me more than I can handle, and I’ve learned more about myself and what’s important. In all honesty, I’m more content with what I have; the material things no longer have that same importance to me. It’s taken me back to a simpler life, and I’m more willing now to look to God for help rather than run away from him.
“That’s about all I have to say, other than thank you for being here for me when I most needed you. I was down and out, and you picked me up and gave me back my self-respect. How can I ever thank you enough? I am just so grateful.”
Helen’s quiet but sincere testimony elicited respectful applause as the audience reflected on what mattered most in their lives. Veronica then offered a few closing remarks before sending everyone off to their small discussion groups.
“Spring is in the air, my friends,” Veronica cheerfully said, “and I say that both literally and figuratively. We’ve weathered the most extraordinarily difficult winter we could’ve ever imagined, and we’re still here, smiling and working together. We’re learning to deal with our fears; we’re becoming more self-reliant, and we’re working through our challenges together as a community. Above all, we’ve learned to trust in God and our friends for guidance, strength, and wisdom.”
The audience broke into another loud round of applause.
“I don’t know how this will all turn out,” Pastor Veronica continued. “Perhaps one day we’ll get back to the way things were, but this is probably our new norm. What I do know is this: despite our challenges, something wonderful has happened. I actually hope we never return to our old self-centered, materialistic ways. We’ve been blessed with experiences that demonstrate the value of the Golden Rule and trusting in God, and that’s what must always matter most—regardless of the economic circumstances we may find ourselves in the future. That’s the special thing we must always keep in our hearts and souls.”
Out in the audience, Jake Hawkins’s raspy old voice rose, singing in an off-key warble, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me….” Within moments the audience had risen to its feet and joined Jake in song with an enthusiasm and thankfulness that left few dry eyes in the crowd.
“Thank you, Jake, and all of you for your wonderful words of praise. There’s no way any closing prayer I could give would top that. As we split into discussion groups, I ask all of you to discuss one question tonight: What is the most positive thing you have learned from the crisis we’ve endured over the past six months?”
As Veronica left the church for her drive home, she thought about her own question.
I’ve seen this crisis bring together my family and community in ways I never could have imagined were possible, and in it I’ve seen the hand of God guiding and directing us all.
C
layton McCarty took his usual seat in the Situation Room at precisely 4:00 p.m. As commander in chief of the U.S. Armed Forces, he planned to spend the better part of the next forty-eight hours in this room overseeing Operation Steel Drum—the Saudi War that was about to commence.
He recalled how, as a young Marine Corps lieutenant in command of an infantry platoon ready to cross the Iraqi border in the 1991 Gulf War, his stomach had been turning and his palms clammy. He wasn’t afraid of dying so much as he was of letting his men down in battle or getting one of them killed needlessly. By contrast, it felt strange now to sit in the safety and comfort of this quiet room, knowing that a number of brave young men and women would soon lose their lives. In the surreal peace of this sanitized environment, he vowed not to forget that the computer graphics mapping the front lines represented the blood and guts of real live human beings on both sides of the field.
General Warner Blake, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was the designated “anchorman” for the first four hours of the war. His task was to provide a running account of the battle and funnel important directives to and from the Situation Room. Every six hours thereafter, the commanding officers of each military branch would rotate the watch. At 5:15 p.m. (1:15 a.m., Saturday, 7 April, Saudi time), General Blake gave his first report.
“Mr. President, the Electronic Warfare Command has reported that all targeted Saudi frequencies and networks have been successfully jammed. This report has been tested and confirmed.”
A loud cheer broke out in the Situation Room, and the president breathed a huge sigh of relief. Failure of that first, crucial operation would have doomed Operation Steel Drum. Jack McCarty looked over at his brother and winked, giving him a thumbs-up.
So far so good,
thought Clayton.
Even the taciturn General Blake had a small grin on his face as he continued his report. “The next phase of the operation is now underway. The Seals, Delta Force, and Special Forces teams have been airdropped on their designated targets. They include the five Saudi oil fields and the Saudi nuclear command in the southern desert.”
The comment about the atomic bombs was a grim reminder that this war was being fought over far more than oil. Mustafa’s nuclear weaponry was an immediate threat to Israel and others, and everyone would remain on pins and needles until they had been secured.
“Mr. President,” General Blake bellowed out at 7:05 p.m. “Reports have now come in from all but the team operating in the Abqaiq oil field that the dirty bombs have been disarmed. Ah, just a second sir,” he added, listening intently to an incoming call. “Excuse me, sir; that was our Fifth Fleet Command advising me the dirty bomb in the Abqaiq Field has also been neutralized, but they were unable to prevent destruction of parts of the oil field infrastructure by conventional explosives. The good news is that all dirty bombs have been dismantled.”
Again, a loud cheer went up in the Situation Room. The deadly dirty-bomb shield that the Saudis had so effectively used to stave off retaliatory attacks over the past six months was now gone. As the celebratory chatter died down, Clayton asked, “What about the nuclear command post and the atomic bombs?”
“It is in the process of being secured, Mr. President, and the defensive perimeter surrounding the facility is now being reinforced with infantry companies from the 101st Airborne Division. The aerial assault on Saudi Arabia is now commencing. The first attack will last about an hour. They will quickly reload for a second sortie and more thereafter, as required.”
Clayton turned to working the phones with Lin Cheng and other allied leaders, keeping them apprised of the situation in real time. There was one notable interruption at 10:06 p.m. when General Blake reported another important milestone.
“Mr. President, the 82nd Airborne Division confirms that they have secured a defensive perimeter along the King Fahd Causeway connecting Bahrain with Saudi Arabia. All mines and booby traps have been removed from the causeway, and we are now moving armored and Stryker assault forces across the causeway into Saudi Arabia. They’re now entering their staging areas for the assault on Riyadh and the southern pincer attack.”
“What kind of opposition are they facing, General?” Vice President Cartright asked.
“Not much, Madam Vice President,” answered the general. “The Saudis were taken completely by surprise, and the air assault hasn’t made them any too anxious to leave their bunkers. I’d also add,” the general continued, “that our armored forces in Kuwait have now left their staging areas for the Saudi border. Our forces in Israel have crossed into Jordan and will soon be in position to launch their assault from the northeast.”
Clayton and Jack left the Situation Room for a short break and a sandwich with Maggie on the second floor. As they sat down in the living room, Maggie asked, a look of concern on her face, “How’s it going, Clayton?”
“So far, Mags, it’s going far better than we had any right to expect.” Jack nodded as Clayton continued. “Our military is performing beautifully. We’ve been able to jam their communications, and we’ve taken out their dirty bombs and nukes. We’ve also clobbered them with a massive aerial bombardment, and our troops will soon be in their final staging areas for the assault toward Riyadh.”
Maggie nodded at the news. “What will happen next?” she asked.
“If all goes according to plan,” Jack answered, “the armored assault on Saudi Arabia will start at around 11:00 p.m. our time. The armored and mechanized columns have been instructed to drive toward Riyadh at breakneck speeds. If they run into any opposition, they’ll go around it and continue on, leaving the Air Force to neutralize enemy positions.”
“How long will it take our forces to reach Riyadh?”
“That depends on the terrain and opposition, Mags, but these are all armored or mechanized forces—they’re not slowed by conventional infantry on foot. Theoretically, they might average thirty miles an hour or more, stopping only for fuel and ammo. They’ll all be approaching Riyadh from different directions. The northeastern forces out of Israel have the longest way to go at about eight hundred miles. The Kuwaiti forces will have about three hundred miles, and those in Bahrain about two hundred and fifty miles. All told, our forces should start approaching Riyadh in anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
Looking at both of them, Maggie asked, in a sympathetic voice, “How about my two favorite guys in the whole world? How are you doing?”
Clayton gave her that ‘I’m okay’ smile and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “We’re doing just fine, Mags.” He then tapped Jack on the arm and said, “C’mon, slick, let’s head down to the Situation Room.”
K
ing Mustafa was awakened shortly before three o’clock in the morning by the chief watch officer in the Royal Palace. The watch officer had a terrified look in his eyes as he gently shook the king.
“What is it, Colonel?” asked the irritable King Mustafa. “This better be good. What time is it anyway?”
“I’m so sorry to wake you, Your Majesty, but some strange things are happening and I fear for your safety.” Trembling, he appeared more frightened of the king’s reaction than of the menacing forces heading for the palace.