Grid Down Perceptions of Reality

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  “It sure sounds like you people really have it together up here.” Fred replied, “Well it's not perfect, but it works for us, and if you do become part of the community, you'll be required to do patrols. But the main reason I came here is ask a question.” Looking at Preston he asked, “Would you help lead a patrol down to the fortified homestead? Are you willing to do that?”

  Preston smiled, “Willing? I’d love too. When are we going?”

  Fred was obviously pleased and said, “Good deal. That's all I need to know. Come down tomorrow and I’ll show you around and let you know how we’re working things. We can discuss all of it tomorrow.”

  Amy asked if he would like stay for dinner, but he declined, saying, “Thank you ma'am, but I must decline your lovely offer. We'll see all of you tomorrow.” He climbed back on his horse and said, “See you around eight?”

  Preston said, “We don't have a watch, but we'll try to get there around that time.”

  Chapter 14

  The Encounter

  I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious.

  Vince Lombardi

  Joe spent the next three days working with Mike and his son Chris making the homemade slam shotguns. Chris was his woodworker his job was to make a crude rifle stock. He took two by fours forming the stock. Nothing fancy it would be held on the bottom with the right hand the left-hand would hold the barrel slamming it back into it. They were going to have to make a prototype first. Luckily Mike had hand pipe threading dies. Using a hack saw they cut the 1 inch pipe. Threaded the ends the only problem was they only had 7-1 inch steel caps. Seven more shotguns were bettered then none it would have to do.

  For the backing to hold the 1 inch pipe in place they used angle iron with two holes drilled in it. This was held in place with 2 inch-long wood screws. They had to drill the holes by hand using a brace. Power tools were surely missed in this long slow process. Chris had to whittle a notch for the steel cap. So the pipe would lay flat and even with the stock. The piece of angle iron mounted behind the steel cap to prevent the pipe from flying backwards hitting the shooter in the face. With a lot of filing cussing in persuading the three-quarter inch pipe was rounded out enough to fit inside the 1 inch pipe.

  They were ready to test fire their first prototype. They rode horses deep back into the woods. So the shot could not be heard by anybody. They set up a 5 gallon bucket as a target. Using the tree for cover they put the stock against it reached around and slammed fired they missed the bucket completely. But this was a safety test to make sure the angle iron and 2 screws were strong enough to protect the shooter from a fatal failure.

  It worked like a champ. Joe then put it up to his shoulder aiming low on the bucket he fired. He hit the bucket high. But it worked.

  Mike jumped in and said, “All right my turn.” They reloaded and Joe warned him to aim very low. He fired knocking the bucket off the stump. With a big grin on his face, “By God I think we got it worked out. I have a box of number four shot it’s not the best but a close range it will definitely do the trick.”

  Joe asked. “Do you have any more like number eight skeet shot something we could let these guys at least practice one shot with.”

  “No, but I do know somebody that should have a box.”

  After four more days of practice, everybody was learning to work as a team. Everyone shooting skills had vastly improved. On the fifth day, he changed everything up. He arranged the straw men so that the two men in front were still on horseback, the six in the middle, kneeling or laying down, and the two at the far end still on their horses.

  Everybody was wondering why the change. Joe explained that they simply have no idea how this is going to play out, but they do know one thing for certain, it's not going to go exactly as planned. He told them they needed to practiced different scenarios, they would be better prepared.

  He had instructed the guys with the shotguns to take some empty shells and reload them, but with no powder or new primers, just the weight of the lead. This time they were able to practice shooting and reloading. Since he had extra men, he had them build homemade spears.

  The 14-year-old boy that was good at throwing axes, had taught two men how to throw properly, and they were pretty good with them.

  They began again and the two men at the end with axes jumped up, charging the men on horses, hitting them in the stomach area with their axe. But then an accident happened. One of the men with a bow was shooting at too much of an angle. His arrow ricocheted off a car and hit one of the men holding an axe in the leg. He went down, screaming in pain. Joe called out for a medic and told the rest to keep practicing and firing. “This is just like a real battle, so don't stop, and keep fighting,” he said.

  He let everybody keep shooting for a few more rounds before he called a halt. He could tell they were all greatly upset and worried about their friend. Everybody ran over surrounding the man lying on the ground. Luckily they were using practice arrows with target tips. It hadn’t hit the bone or any vital area, so the arrow was removed and the wound was wrapped with bandages.

  Joe said, “Two of you men go with the medic and take him back to camp. The rest of you must do it again. The more we practice, the better we become.”

  Jacob interrupted, “Joe, everybody is upset by the accident and we need to wrap it up and call it a night.”

  Joe shook his head. “This is exactly why we need to keep practicing. Friends might get killed or wounded when the real fight goes down, and people must learn to overcome their emotions and keep fighting. This is not a game, his wounds are not serious and he'll heal up in three weeks and be fine. So we do it again.”

  Joe was trying hard to hold his temper because he knew these men weren’t battle hardened, and didn’t understand what it was like to be in a life or death fight, but they soon would.

  As everybody walked back to their positions, Philip walked beside Joe and quietly said, “You can be one cold, hard son of a bitch, can't you?”

  He stopped and turned toward Philip. “I have to be. We’re practicing right? If we allow people to break ranks and run to a fallen friend during battle, we'll be cut to ribbons. Remember when I said in the heat of battle, you would fight the way that you practice? Well, if we allowed the men to break ranks now, they would do the exact same thing in the heat of battle, when it really counted. It may seem cold and heartless but we have to get that mindset. Do you understand?”

  Philip replied, “Yes I do, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Joe said, “It doesn’t matter if you like it or not, my job is to make sure we win and keep as many of you alive as possible.”

  After practice was over Joe gathered the men that would be using the slam shotguns to explain how they would using them in the upcoming battle. He said, “ Now the seven men with the slam shotguns will be given a chance to test fire them once. This is empty see holding the three-quarter inch pipe out. The ¾ inch barrel slide underneath the pipe strapping back to the 1 inch pipe. You hold it like this using your right hand holding it tight against your shoulder aim slam back fast and hard. The trick is slamming hard enough to fire the shell but not so hard it throws your aim off.”

  Joe continued, “Chris has whittled you guys dowel rods. Your dowel rod is buried in the ground standing straight up to about 3 feet long. You fire your first shot. You pull out the three-quarter inch pipe slamming down the dowel rod this knocks out the empty shell. You have another shell in your pocket quickly replace put pipe back into the stock and you can fire again. You each will be given three shells. If you’re lucky you should be able to get all three shots off. But the most important thing for you men do remember is make that first shot count, don’t worry about the follow-up shots if we all do our job it should only take one shot.”

  The men each fired one shot, ammo was way too precious f
or anymore practice but they at least had a good idea how to work the homemade shotgun.

  After three more days, no matter what position Joe put the straw men in; everybody was hitting their target. He called everybody together and said, “Now, are you ready to do this?” Everybody nodded their head, saying they were ready, and shouting, “Let’s do it.”

  Standing in the back of a pickup, Joe said, “Okay, tomorrow the patrol should pass through this area.” He turned to Mattie, “Are you ready do your job?”

  Mattie responded with a nervous voice, “Yes. As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Joe went on, “Good. If they follow their normal pattern, they should be coming by this road at about 2:30. Things change, patterns change, so I think we should be here at 11 o’clock. We’ll use three scouts to find their location. Two men one will stay just in front of them and the other will come back to tell Mattie and the rest of us where they are. His job will be running back and forth with updates.”

  The next day was foggy with a mist and the temperature was a cool 55°F. This could work to their advantage, but it could also work against them. It might be almost impossible for the scouts to find them in the fog. Over breakfast at Phillips house, they talked about calling it off.

  Joe said, “I don’t think so. This fog normally burns off when the sun comes out, so by 11 o’clock we are moving into position. It should be breaking up by the time they come through and it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Philip said, “I’ve seen this fog rolling in before. Sometimes it breaks up, just like you say, and other times it lasts for a day.”

  Joe responded, “I say we go for it. If the weather doesn’t break, if the fog stays bad, then we’ll call it off.”

  By 10 that morning the fog was already starting to break up. At 11:00, they were all set up. Mattie and the three scouts went out to the road. Mattie was briefed on how to act like a scared girl, new to the area. Her shirt was tied up Daisy Duke style, knotted below her breasts, to add a little incentive to be chased. Her job was to stay at least 100 yards in front of them. Her little Mustang was a short horse, not a thoroughbred, like the ones that would be chasing her, but he made up for it with plenty of heart and spirit.

  Everybody was in position, sitting and thinking that they had 2 1/2 hours to wait, when the scout came racing back. “Oh my God, they are only 2 miles down the road,” he yelled, and then he raced back.

  The camp became electrified. You could feel it; the moment of truth would soon be upon them. The sun broke through and was warming the day, burning off the fog.

  Joe walked around and calmly told everybody to just relax and do what they’ve been trained to do and everything will be fine. He walked back to his position and Jane looked over at him. “You sure this is going to work?”

  He gave her a weak smile and said, “Yup, I'm sure everything will work out just fine.”

  Ten minutes later, the first scout arrived back and said they were within a half a mile. He quickly hid his horse and took up his position. A few minutes later the other two scouts raced in saying they were almost to Mattie’s position.

  Mattie was to be dismounted, with her horse feeding in the ditch. She was to let them get to within 150 yards, watching them out of the corner of her eye. They had positioned a car as a marker and once the patrol was even with that, it was her signal to jump on her horse and race off screaming in fear. She was nervous and scared to death of being caught and when they were 300 yards away, she wanted so badly to just get on the horse and race off, but she didn't think they had seen her yet, as they had not changed their speed.

  At 200 yards, still no noticeable change from the patrol. Mattie started edging her horse up toward the road. She thought, “Jesus, are these guys blind or just half-asleep?”

  At 150 yards, still no noticeable change. “Close enough,” Mattie thought as she swung the reins around the neck of the horse, put her foot in the stirrup and swung her leg over. When she was mounted, she heard somebody yell, “Halt!”

  She looked in that direction and seeing the full patrol of the men starting to charge her, she raced off down the road.

  Her little horse went into a trot, not really running, she looked over her shoulder and screamed. They were gaining quickly and they were only about 75 yards behind her. She leaned down, dug her heels into the horse’s hindquarters and yelled, “Run baby, run.” The horse sensing her urgency kicked it into high gear and was at a full gallop.

  She quickly made it to the road and turned towards the waiting ambush. That’s when she heard the first rifle shot. “Oh My God. They are shooting at me.” She leaned down even closer on the horse. The bullet was high overhead, but the sound of the high-speed snap spooked the little horse. He was almost in full panic, running for fear. Mattie had a heck of a time just hanging on. She raced down the road and luckily the trees blocked any further shots, until they caught up to the road she was on. The horse was more confident on the dirt road, and he surged forward at an even faster speed.

  Another shot rang out, as she raced by the old house. “Another high shot,” she thought “they must be trying to frighten me into stopping.” She dared a quick glance over her shoulder to see where they were. About 60 yards behind her and still gaining. She was almost to the final turn. “It’s going to work, it’s going to work, come on horse,” she whispered. The horse had run its initial panic out. She reined in to slow the horse down for the final turn. She turned and looked; they were only 40 yards away. God, their horses were fast. Pushing forward another hundred yards and her job was done, and then it was up to the men to save her.

  Two more quick shots over her head. Thank God they’re not shooting at her or the horse. She could hear the men yelling behind her, ordering her to stop and how she was going to pay dearly for running. “Not this time,” she thought, “you are the ones that are going to pay dearly.”

  Down the hill and through the trap, and she raced out of sight. The plan worked perfectly, like hound dogs on the hot scent of their prey, these men didn’t even notice they were riding right into a deadly trap. When the lead horse was about two car lengths away, Joe yanked the rope up, which was hooked onto the tow ball of a truck. Before the lead guy could rein in, his horse tripped over it and he went flying. So did the second, third, and fourth guy, causing the others to stop. Joe stood up and started shooting. Jane opened up and the arrows started flying. The screaming and crying began. The two men in the Gillie suits jumped up and quickly dispatch the first two, but before the other two could be killed, they managed to fire a couple of shots. Joe and Jane, hearing the shooting behind them, swung around and dropped both of them, quickly turning back around, looking for new targets.

  Horses were running around in panic, but he saw one lone guy make it past the guys with shotguns. They shot at him, and he slumped over, but kept on riding. It looked like an ancient battlefield, with spears and arrows stuck in the downed men. The men knocked off their horses never even got a chance to retrieve their rifles. Their horses had run off in a panic. The last two men standing still had rifles but tossed them to the ground and stood up saying they surrendered. Before Joe could do anything, Philip and Jacob walked up to the two men and said, “You’re the two that laughed about taking my daughter. Remember that?”

  Sheer panic quickly crossed their face and they both knew what was coming next. They made a desperate dive to retrieve their rifles, but father and son buried their axes into the back of the men’s heads. Joe thought that it was righteous anger. There were three more men laying on the ground wounded, with either a spear or an arrow in them. One was begging for mercy, pleading with them to allow him to live. Joe walked up to them and calmly shot each man in the head. Then he yelled out, “Rodney, Ed, get on your horses and make sure that lone man doesn’t make it back to his camp. They mounted and rode off. Joe looked at two of their own dead, and shook his head. “We should have had more men at this end,” he thought.

  Everyone came from their positions and down
to the battlefield. They all cheered and then turned and saw their own dead men. The shock of what had really happened started to sink in. Seeing the blood and gore of their enemy caused two men to run off and get sick in the woods.

  Joe barked out orders, trying to snap the men out of their shock, “All right you men, we still have work to do. Quickly gather up all their arms and ammunition, and anything useful. Pile it all in the back of this pickup and then get some horses to drag these bodies to the pre-dug graves, and get them buried.

  Mattie came back with three of the four horses that came up to her. She broke down when she saw two of their own laying dead.

  Joe turned to Philip and said, “You should take Mattie and go home.”

  Philip said, “No, we have work to do. Mattie, tie them horses off, then head on home and get cleaned up.” Before long everything was cleaned but the blood and gore. They wrapped their dead in tarps, preparing to take them home. Soon the area was cleaned up. The next ambush, they would be on equal footing, with the 11 rifles they now had.

  Joe told the men to gather up all of the horses, as they needed to get rid of the horses that had been wounded during the battle. They were quickly put out of their misery and dragged out of sight. The blood was covered up with dirt, and the area was restored almost back to way it looked before the battle began.

  The original plan was to slaughter all of the horses and eat the meat, thereby getting rid of all evidence that they were involved, but one of the men offered a suggestion, “I know where there is a corral and good pasture land. We really should keep these horses.”

  Philip added that it would nice to have some extra horses, once they had gotten rid of the other ass holes. Joe thought about that for a minute and said, “If they can be well hidden and not connected to anyone, then maybe it would be okay, but it means someone has to feed and care for them.”