Grid Down Perceptions of Reality

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  Ken looked up at him with The Thousand Yard Stare. He said, “Chris is dead. I killed him. I couldn’t save him. I tried, but I couldn’t save him. He broke his leg and I should have helped him more. He’s dead. One of the beams hit him in the head and crushed his skull. It’s all my fault he’s dead. How am I going face his parents?” His eyes wouldn’t focus. It was like he was looking through Preston.

  Preston shook him, “Snap out of it. We’ve got to get moving.”

  Ken didn’t move. “Did you see all of them dead bodies? Did you see all the blood? This is hell. We killed so many. It was horrible. I can’t stop seeing all the dead bodies.”

  Preston tightened his grip on the man’s collar. “Look at me. We are leaving. You survived and this is war. It’s not pretty, but ugly and nasty. The most insane thing you can do to another human being, but we don’t have time for this right now. Come on soldier, move.”

  The man stood all the way up, uncaring if he was being exposed. Preston was sneaking forward at a crouch in front of him. He turned around and seeing the man walking without a care in the world, Preston went back and yanked him down. “Snap out of it. If you want to die, that’s fine, but don’t get me killed because you don’t give a shit right now.”

  Ken snapped out of it. “I’m sorry, this is my first battle. I wasn’t ready for this.”

  “Okay, just follow me and let’s get out here.” Ken started moving right after that.

  They made it back to Joe’s position and Preston shook his head, saying, “Let’s go.”

  Joe knew his friend well enough that there would be time for talking later. About 9 O’clock that night, they made it to camp. They reported to Scott and John. They informed them of what they thought happen. They said that about 60 to 70 men on the other side were dead or wounded. They had lost Chris and Ken was shell-shocked.

  John asked, “How bad is he? Do you think he will snap out of it and be fit for duty?”

  Preston said, “I don’t think so. I think we should send him home. He wasn’t ready for this type of carnage and his mind overloaded. I think for all of our safety, we should send him home.”

  Scott asked, “What you think Joe? Will he be fine in a couple a days?”

  Joe said, “I don’t think so. He’s gone. Every time we stopped, he just kept babbling about all the dead bodies, blood and how he didn’t save Chris. That kind of trauma takes some time to heal. For all our safety, he needs to go home.”

  John said, “You two take him back, and before you object, I want people to move in pairs, and you guys are already a team.” He pulled out the map. I figure it’s going to take you three days to take him back and then return.” He pointed to the map, “We’ll meet you here at this cross-section. If we’re not there, I’ll have two men waiting there for you.”

  Preston said, “And what fun are you guys going to be having while we’re gone?”

  “No need for you to know that right now, just in case by some odd turn of a events, you are captured. We don’t need you spilling the beans. Head out in the morning and we’ll see you in three days.”

  Chapter 26

  Make it back on foot

  When people don't believe in you, you have to believe in yourself.

  Pierce Brosnan

  The next morning they headed out after a quick breakfast. Ken insisted that he could make it back by himself, but Preston convinced him they were going back to see their wives.

  They rode right through the night and arrived at about two in the morning. They dropped Ken off at his house and took his horse with them. They rode on to their house, crawled into bed with their wives, and immediately fell asleep, sleeping like the dead.

  The next morning they had the dreaded job of telling Chris’s parents the bad news. Jane and Amy had to work at the vets, so they said their goodbyes and left. Joe and Preston rode over to Chris’s parents house to give them the bad news.

  Chris was only 22 at the time of his death, way too young to die. His body was at the bottom of the lake, stuck under the beam that killed him, so they couldn’t return it to them. They calmly and respectfully told them what happened. The Mrs. broke down crying, screaming and yelling. She told them they had no right sending him to out there to do a man’s job. She said, “You were the ones that were trained. You should’ve done it. My son is dead because you two were cowards.” The father tried to calm her down.

  Joe said, in a calm even tone, “We did offer to do it, but they insisted that they were ready to handle the responsibility. The only way to make soldiers, is to put them in the combat. It’s a cold hard fact. If we want freedom, we need soldiers. We’re so sorry for your loss. He was a fine young man and can be considered a hero for his part in stopping that army.”

  They politely nodded to each of them and got on their horses, and headed back to the front lines.

  Preston said, “Maybe you and I should’ve done it.”

  Joe responded, “Maybe, should have, would of, could of, is not going to bring him back. And you, of all people, should understand that. Unfortunately this new world is not fair or just. Sacrifices have to be made. Young inexperienced men are going to die. It’s the facts of war. We’ll never turn them into warriors if we do everything, keeping them in the rear for their safety, and we can’t second guess our decisions.”

  Preston acknowledged what Joe had said, and added, “I know, but a few days of training means nothing. We need more time to train these men.”

  “That’s what we’re doing. We’re buying Clint the time he needs to train the men he has. Come on we need to cover a lot of ground.”

  They made camp, still having about 20 miles to go. Little did they know that on the front line, John and a team of 10 men planned on stealing the 105 that night.

  John had the men cover the horse’s hoofs with rags so they could quietly move them into place. The plan was to use knives and crossbows to take out the sentries as quietly as possible. They would then hook the horses up to the cannon and pull it out, hopefully disappearing into the night before anyone knew it was gone.

  The Major was on edge, as he had placed an extra patrol of 10 men, five on each side, to silently sneak up and down the lines around their camp. After the bridge incident, he expected a possible night attack and wanted to have advance warning.

  The next day, Joe and Preston reached the meeting place at 10 AM. There were two men waiting for them. One of the men said, “We have to take your horses. Your orders are to work your way back up to your house. You’re on your own.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Joe asked

  The other man said, “We tried to steal the 105 last night. It went bad and we lost all but three of the 10 men that went in. Those three managed to steal the 105, but not the ammunition wagon. John wants to use the extra horses in relays, changing out the ones hauling the 105.”

  Joe said, “Doesn’t he need us to help?”

  The reply was, “I don’t think so, as his orders were pretty explicit. I think he doesn’t want to jeopardize any more men.”

  The other man added, “To say that the other side is pissed, is an understatement. They split up and have 10 patrols out searching for the 105, with 40 men in a patrol. You have to stay off the roads and work your way back through the brush.”

  They got off their horses and pulled out their supplies. “What are we going to do for food?” Preston asked.

  He threw them 2 MRE’s. “Sorry, that’s all we have. We really don’t have time to tell you anymore. We have to get these horses back where they are desperately needed, or the patrol may find them and we’ll lose the 105. Good luck.” With that, they raced off with the horses.

  Preston said, “Well, back to the good old days of walking everywhere. I say we walk just off the road and we should be able to cover about 10 miles, and then lay low until night. Once it’s dark, we can hit the road and cover as much ground as we can.”

  Joe agreed and said, “I hope so. Either way, we need to get out of sight.”


  They left the road and moved into the brush. They were back about 50 yards from the road, just enough so they could still see any activity on the road but were still concealed. A couple hours later, a patrol went by at a fast pace, they were looking for that 105. They took cover and watched them go by, counting the men.

  Joe whispered, “I counted 38, which is way too many for us to take on by ourselves.”

  Preston said, “If there were supposed to be 40 men in the patrol, we’d better keep a sharp eye, just in case they have two bringing up the rear. I guess they don’t have a sense a humor, now that they lost their big toy, they want it back.”

  They stayed there until dark and neither the patrol, nor anyone else, came back through, which was worse because all they knew was that they were somewhere in front of them. To stay low, they walked in the low part of the ditch, which was smoother, easier walking than trying to travel in the brush at night.

  They traveled about 15 miles that night, and when the predawn light was coming up, they got off the road. The buried themselves in a pile of leaves and went to sleep. Around noon, they were up and whispered back and forth. Joe asked. “What do think?”

  Preston said, “I think we should find the patrol and steal a couple horses tonight.”

  Joe grinned and said, “You’re never a boring date, are you? Come on, let’s quit goofing around and start covering ground.”

  They headed off and kept listening for any sharp noises, like horses hoofs on the pavement. About six that night, they came up to a small stream. It was still plenty daylight out, so finding a log fallen across the stream, almost reaching the other side, they used it to cross over.

  Joe went first and made it to the other side without a problem. When Preston was halfway across, they both heard the patrol coming. The sound of the stream had covered up the sounds until they were almost right on top of them. Preston crouched down on the log, holding onto a branch. The patrol was on the nearby bridge and stopped.

  Preston’s leg started cramping. Did they see him? He saw six men on the bridge. He looked over and the others were leading the horses down to drink. Preston thought, “Oh, what are the chances?” He was just a big still blob and as long as he didn’t move to attract attention, he would be fine. His rifle was slung over his back, so he slowly turned his head and saw Joe had his rifle at the ready, covering him. His leg started twitching and he had to shift his body weight. Holding onto the branch he leaned back and started slowly to straighten out his leg when the branch cracked with a loud snap and he fell into the stream.

  The little stream was deeper than he expected and he went completely underwater. As he popped up, bullets started whistling by his head. Joe was returning fire, so he dove under and swam toward Joe. He popped up next to shore and scrambled up. The men by the stream were rushing forward. He crawled over to Joe and said, “Let’s go.”

  Using the brush for cover, they ran as fast as they could. They heard the pursuers coming and weren’t going to hang around find out how many.

  They had been shooting at them and thought they had gotten lucky so far. They ran back along the stream for a quarter of a mile when Preston felt the sting in his leg. It was like a bee sting on both sides. He felt the wetness running down his leg.

  Catching up with Joe, he said, “We need to find cover quick.” He pointed down to his leg and Joe saw the torn pants and the blood.

  “You got hit? No time. Let’s find a thick pine and climb up.”

  Lucky for them, this was northern Wisconsin, with plenty of pines, cedars, and spruce trees. Joe said, “I’ll lure them away and you get up a tree.”

  They could hear the men chasing them but they were still a good 200 yards behind them. Preston found a hemlock about 30 feet tall, and he climbed about 20 feet up and sat down on a branch. He was fairly well concealed by the branches, so he pulled out his first aid kit and quickly put a battle dressing on the wound to control the bleeding. The bullet had gone cleanly through, missing bones and any main arteries.

  Joe went 50 yards off to one side, and when he started seeing brush moving about 75 yards behind him, he fired off three quick rounds. He then took off running for all he was worth, leading them away from Preston’s position. The pursuers quickly change directions and went after Joe, except for one man, who was sneaking along the edge of the stream. Preston thought he was there to prevent them from circling back. He watched the man carefully as he moved through the brush quietly with purpose. When he was about 20 yards away from the tree Preston was in, he stopped, cocked his head to one side and looked in the direction that Joe had ran. He was listening to the others chasing Joe. The man started sneaking along again and Preston watched him until he was out of sight.

  Sitting on a thin branch is anything but comfortable, as your legs start going numb, you have to slowly and quietly move so your legs don’t cramp or fall asleep. Preston was worried that his wound would stiffen his leg and he would have trouble climbing down.

  It was starting to get dark now, as the sun faded. He could smell the pines and hear the stream below. This would be a perfect setting if people were not trying to kill him. All of a sudden, he saw movement but thought it was too early for Joe to be coming back. It was the lone man sneaking back along the edge. He passed within 10 feet of the tree Preston was in, and was soon out of sight, heading back for the road.

  After dark, around 10 PM, Preston climbed out of the tree. His leg was stiffening but he knew he had to get walking on it. He had to wait for Joe and would give him a couple of more hours, or until midnight, and if he wasn’t back by then, they were both on their own. He found a small sapling spruce tree, pulling his knife he cleared the branches out so he could lean against it but it would still give himself plenty of cover. He sat down and waited for Joe. Before sitting down, he scraped all the branches and leaves out-of-the-way with his boot, so he could move quietly if he had to.

  Joe had taken the men on a wild goose chase. He ran for about 2 miles and then circled back to the road. He found a low spot, a dip in the road, and not seeing anybody, he crouched low and ran to the other side. He got in the brush and waited. If they had a really good tracker he would know before dark. How much time would they waste on only 2 guys on foot? He waited until darkness, and then worked his way back towards the stream. He watched the troops mount up and leave.

  He waited for an hour after dark, directly across to from where they had charged in. He watched for movement or any telltale signs of somebody left behind. He listened and smelled the air, but there was nothing he could detect.

  It looked like they had cleared out, so he slowly started working his way back to Preston. It took him over an hour and a half to reach Preston’s location, and when he did, Preston said, “You’re getting old. It took you long enough.”

  Joe chuckled, “If you weren’t such a clumsy ox, getting yourself shot, we’d already be miles away. How’s the leg?”

  “Just peachy. A little stiff, but the bleeding stopped so let’s get moving.”

  He got to his feet and they headed back to the road. Just before they reached the road, they heard men on horseback riding by. It was too dark to tell who or what they were. Joe whispered, “Their kind of serious type, aren’t they.”

  Preston whispered back, “What’s the plan boss?”

  “I say we stay low in the ditch. Travel until we find a farm field, or something open, and then we can get off the road.” Joe nodded in agreement.

  Preston’s leg limbered up, and still caused him some pain, but it didn’t slow him down. They had traveled about 5 miles when they saw a field off to the right. Staying close to the edge of the woods, they worked their way back a half a mile and ran into an abandoned farmhouse. They checked the inside for any food or needed supplies. Finding none, they decided to spend the night there.

  They didn’t think it was good idea to stay in the house, as that would be a prime place for the troops to look for them, so they stayed off in the woods, burying the
mselves in the leaves. They both slept and a couple of hours after daylight, Joe got up and did a quick recon of the area. They needed food. Going up to some collapsed buildings, he saw a groundhog run underneath some boards. As nice as some meat might be, they couldn’t risk the noise of a shot. He looked for an old hand pump well, hoping for water, but he knew he was dreaming.

  Joe returned and Preston asked, “See anything?”

  Joe replied, “Just a groundhog, but we can’t risk taking a shot right now.”

  Preston said, “Well, Amy packed me some of her professional grade self-locking snares. It’s real simple, all you do is close down the loop, feed it around a tree and through the swivel and that will anchor it there. Get yourself a stick, about 2 inches thick, sharpen one end and jam that into the ground. Split the top about 3 inches down and jam the snare in there. Then make about a 6-inch loop, positioning it about 2 inches off the ground right in front of his hole.”

  Joe said, “That sounds easy enough, but Amy is the expert. Can you make it work?”

  “Yeah, it is pretty simple. You just have to make sure the only thing that moves is the loop closing. None of the cable behind the stick can move. It has to be solid.”

  Joe looked at him, still a bit confused. “I’ve never done this before so why don’t you hobble over and help me?”

  “Quit being a baby. I’m going to clean my wound out. Now go get us some protein.”

  Joe said, “What if I screw up and spook him, then we’ll both go hungry.”

  “That’s the beauty of snares. The worse that happens is they knock the loop over. They just think it’s some stick and don’t know any better. Then you just open the loop up until you get it right. Even a bonehead like you can handle this.”

  Joe took the snare and headed to the place he had seen the groundhog. Preston dropped his pants and pulled out his first aid kit. He used alcohol pads to clean up all the blood around his wound. It looked pretty nasty. Using a fresh pad, he cleaned out all the debris and dirt that was in the wound. Then he poured activated charcoal right into the wound. The doc, or he should say vet, was a firm believer in using activated charcoal. He said it would absorb any infection in the wound. It hurt like hell but it was the best thing they had.