Down the Hole

by Sally Six

  Around an hour later, the General’s door opened and both men stepped into Elizabeth’s office. The General had a concerned look on his face. Not what Elizabeth would have thought at all would be on his face after finding his brother was alive.

  “Elizabeth please send out an aide to collect Captain Fields, Murphy and Douglas. Have them report to the meeting room immediately. You’re expected to be there also.”

  Both the Williamson’s continued through the offices while Elizabeth informed an aide to go out and collect the other three captains. She picked up the duty roster and informed the aide where to go to find them. This had made her concerned for the General to be acting this quickly. There must be a problem. Elizabeth picked up her briefcase and headed over to the meeting room. She happened to look at the wind up clock sitting on her desk and was surprised to see to it was only 1:30 PM. She wondered what the rest of the day would bring. These days she didn’t like surprises. At least not the kind that meant trouble. She had a feeling they were going to get some.

  Not ten minutes later, they were all seated around a table and the General introduced his brother to the other captains who in turn nodded their heads in acknowledgment of Hank Williamson. Then General Williamson began to brief them on what his brother Hank had informed him of.

  During the briefing when the General began to ask for input from the captains, the first thing he heard was. “We knew it had to happen. We have had it just too darn easy.”

  “All right gentlemen and lady now that that’s out of the way. I want you to think about it and give us some real options. We can do things by the book which they will be expecting or we can use some of the things that we have learned from Captain Zellers and her husband, Bill. We can give them a big surprise.”

  General Williamson stopped and looked at the floor. Then looking back up faced Elizabeth. “Elizabeth would you mind stepping out of the door and asking my aide to run and get your husband? I think he needs to be in on this.”

  “No sir, not at all. I’ll be right back.”

  When Elizabeth talked to the aide and told him who he was supposed to find she also informed him it was leather tanning day. The aide smiled and took off at a run. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Bill entered. Bill was out of breath but recovering quickly. Everyone was in better shape these days.

  “I was told to come right over. That there was an important meeting that I was supposed to attend. I hope I didn’t take too long. I didn’t take the time to change.”

  Bill happened to notice the civilian sitting at the end of the table and was a bit surprised. Not one civilian had come into the base the three months that they had been here.

  General Williamson smiled at Bill. “No son that’s fine. There was no need to take the time to change. Now first I want you to meet my brother, Hank. He has been living around here for over eight months. He has been accepted by the local populace and has brought the information in that we’re about to tell you.”

  The General had Bill sit down and then went on to fill Bill in on what was going on. Just what the threat was and what his part was going to be in it all. Bill sat in shocked silence when the General was finished. Then they went over just what they were going to do and how to do it. General James Williamson was very happy that he had Bill come in. He was a wealth of knowledge on 17th Century war tactics.

  The next few days passed by very quickly as most everyone on the base had a role to play in the coming action. Bill was as nervous as a cat under a rocking chair. Today was the day and the army coming towards them had been seen coming into the valley at dusk last night. Bill could hardly believe that he had been made the leader of his own group of Special Forces.

  Only they were no longer Army Special Forces. They were his very own Zellers’s Rangers. All of his men’ faces were blackened and were attired as he was in green and brown dyed fringed leather pants and jacket with knee-high moccasins along with 14-inch bowie knives fastened on their hips opposite their pistols. Their quivers were strapped to their backs and their bows slung across their bodies. They each also had a small caliber weapon stashed on them. The only other modern piece on them that could be seen was their camouflage skullcaps. Some of the men also had a few odd small knives among other things hidden about them. These men were going to be quick and nasty. A group of deadly men that would be hard to see in the dense Tennessee forest. It would be dawn soon and it was time to give the order to head out.

  They were to meet up with Hank Williamson and some of the local good ole boys down in the forest. As the old song, A Country Boy Will Survive, went. They had. In fact this was a song this new unit heard quite frequently as it was Sergeant Billy Black’s favorite song. He played it quite often on his small battery operated CD player. He never seemed to run out of batteries to Bill’s amazement. Inside Billy plugged it in so his batteries would last longer. The base generator was running fine. There was a 5,000 pound diesel tank buried under the base and they were going out and finding more when possible, but they knew at some time that would run out.

  Bill’s head scout, Corporal Larry Underwood, gave the signal from the end of the tunnel. Their way was clear. One by one the Zeller’s Rangers slipped out into the moist predawn air.

  General Williamson had told them about the tunnel after they had been at the base a month. Elizabeth had found some odd paper work on it in the former Commanders file cabinet. They knew at some time it would come in handy. The tunnel was seven feet in height by eight feet wide with concrete floors, walls and ceiling. It ran from the motor pool back office 2000 ft. past the base fence.

  All thirty of Bill’s men were kneeling around him. He whispered the last of the instructions. They knew what to do and how to do it. Zeller’s Rangers began to wend their way quietly through the trees towards the valley and their mission. Death was coming down the mountain.

  The four scouts divided, each taking a different path down the hillside and around their prey. Their moccasins quiet in the dew wet grass. You would never even guess there was a group of men making their way down the dense forested hillside. Each scout had a group of men silently slipping through the woods behind them.

  Larry spotted the first of the local men when he was an eighth of a mile east of the lake. He gave a short Whip-or-will call and Bubba McCoy turned and gave a short answer back looking in Larry’s direction. Larry slipped through the last of the trees and stepped up to Bubba. Bubba put his right index finger to his chin and Larry smiled.

  “Doctor Livingston, I assume.”

  Bubba gave a gapped toothed smile and lisped. “But Ollie.”

  Larry stepped up and stuck out his hand. “Larry Underwood at your service.”

  Bubba McCoy told him. “It’s good to see you Army boys, but ya don’t look like I thought y’all would.”

  As Bubba talked quietly to Larry he could see the other men wending their way through the trees. All of them that he could see seemed to be staying twenty to thirty feet from one another.

  “What kind of information do you have for us Bubba? Also, I understand that you’re supposed to be our guide.”

  For the last month the Commander had them all taking turns learning the surrounding mountains and valley, but the locals knew the little odd things about the area that they didn’t.

  Bubba lisped in his southern drawl and Larry had to listen carefully to understand just what he was saying.

  Bubba had lost some of his front teeth on the top and bottom six months ago when his horse decided to deliver a hard swift kick when Bubba was trying to clip the horse’s hooves. A pine rattler had crawled up to the horse just at the wrong time. Spooked the horse and there went Bubba’s teeth. At this time Bubba’s 30.06 lay cradled in the crook of his right arm. His eyes always darting here and there seemingly watching everywhere at once.

  Larry was wondering about what Bubba was doing and decided he would just go ahead and ask. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  “Bubba before we go mu
ch further I have to ask you a question?”

  “Well y’all go ahead son. Fire away.”

  “Did you ever happen to be in the service? You act like you were by the way you move and keep a keen watch on your surroundings.”

  “Bubba gave a quiet snicker. “Yeah son as a matter of fact I was. Let’s just say it was a special branch of Black Ops. I’m not able to tell ya any more than that.”

  What was funny was Bubba completely lost his accent as he talked to Larry.

  “I knew it. I didn’t think my instincts were wrong. You just move way too good to just be a down home boy and nothing more.”

  Bubba frowned. “Son don’t put down these good ole boys. I tell you some of them will surprise you. I know a couple that can sneak up on me and they never spent a day in the military. I grew up here with these men and most of what I know about the forest I learned here in this very place.”

  “Sorry sir, that wasn’t my intention. There was no disrespect intended. They must be good for you to say so. I guess we best be getting on with the mission. The enemy won’t wait”

  “You got that one right son.” Bubba then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper which he unfolded. He also took out a tiny penlight and began to show Larry where their prey was camping.

  Bubba showed Larry just where the so-called military force was camping and where their forward guard was stationed. They had been seen coming into Lake Valley from the northwest side of the valley via Highway 25 and were still there. They came in on foot. It looked like in homemade Rickshaws and a variety of horse drawn wagons. That seemed crazy as they could have gotten some trucks running if they had found the parts or if the trucks had been in hardened shelters.

  Why they were being considered the enemy was the slaves that were being driven in the middle of the convoy. Not men that may have been convicts or otherwise criminals, but as far as Hank Williamson had seen men, women and children around ten years of age and up. The people had ropes tied to their necks which led from one person to the next. The fact that this was a convoy of U.S. military bothered the heck out him so he had gotten closer to make sure that’s what they were. He was very disappointed in the fact that yep they were ours alright. They saluted their officers and did as they were told. That’s all the closer he wanted to get. So he high tailed it over to Roger Gilliam’s and started the news going in the valley that they were being invaded and not a good group like had taken up residence in the old base.

  The people at the base had been watched since the day they had entered the valley. While during one of Hank’s watches, he had seen his brother out watching some of the new woods training. At least that’s what he thought was going on at the base.

  Larry gave a Bob White call and the other men made their way to him and they were then briefed on the findings of Bubba and the others.

  Larry along with the rest of his group of Zeller’s Rangers which now included Bubba headed on their way. Hardly a sound could be heard as they traveled through the trees. Most people wouldn’t know that the birds stopped calling and the squirrels called out warnings as men passed through. They were hoping none in the coming Army knew that fact either. As far as Bubba had seen as he watched them set up camp, they were over confident. They must figure their size made them undefeatable. This was also happening with the other scouts. They were meeting with the local men assigned to them and getting the last of the information they needed.

  The scouting parties were working their way another two miles through the trees and thickets. They could all smell smoke from the campfires. The local men and Ranger scouts and the men behind them were coming closer to the camp facing the oncoming wind. It didn’t take long to find the first of the guards. These men had become slovenly and inattentive. It wasn’t hard at all with the combined military and woods training to slit the throats of these men and lay them elsewhere in the woods.

  The Rangers took out all the guards accept one without anyone in the camp ever knowing what had happened to them

  The dead men were never found by those relieving them later. Corporal Tuner who had gone out to take his watch reported back to the watch commander immediately that the men were gone and must have deserted because there wasn’t any sign of a struggle anywhere where the men had been posted.

  Part of the Zeller’s Rangers found the first light of dawn was filtering through the trees as they made their way back towards the base with their captive. He was needed for information.

  * * *

  In the camp of the new enemy, Lieutenant Forest Sale hated to have to report more desertions to the General. He knew it would send the man into a rage. Sale didn’t what to be the messenger. Sale made his decision, pulled a note pad out of his pocket and wrote the General a note telling him of the desertions during the last guard shift. He then spotted a private headed for the breakfast mess line.

  “Private Weaver, front and center. I have an errand for you.”

  Private Weaver cringed. No good ever came of being volunteered for an errand these days. To refuse an order was a on the spot death penalty. He turned from where he was headed to a mess tent. He sure was hungry and he hoped this didn’t take too long.

  “Yes sir, at your service sir. What can I do for you Lt. Sale?”

  “I have a message that has to be taken to General Smith immediately private. I am expected to be assigning the coming watches. I can’t be in both places at the same time. You will deliver this message to General Smith.”

  “Yes sir, Lt. Sale.”

  Lt. Sale handed the paper to the private, saluted him and the private saluted back. Then both turned to go their different ways.

  Private Weaver was very nervous about delivering this message to General Smith. He knew their Commander would go into rages at the least provocation and bad news was one of them. He knew a few men had died as a resort of some of the General’s rage. The General tended to shoot the messengers. As he looked back to make sure Lt. Sale was out of site and before he got anywhere near the Generals tent he slipped behind a tree and opened the note.

  “EEE Gads.” There was no way in Hades that he was going to deliver this message to the General. This thing would get him killed. He ripped up the note and dropped it were he stood. He looked around to see if he was being watched. No one was paying the least bit of attention to him. So he walked over on to the next tree and from there the next tree and so on through the woods. He knew there were no guards out further from where he was. So he didn’t have to worry about that. Private Weaver regretted not having any of the things that he had collected, extra clothes and food especially. He hadn’t even had a chance to have any breakfast. He did have his knife and side arm on. He never went anywhere without them, orders. He even had his eye on one of the new slaves that had been brought in a few days ago, but he knew that was just a pipe dream. Officers got first choice.

  He thought he was walking more towards the North by the looks of the sun as it rose. He hoped that he would find an empty cabin in a few miles or one he could take over with little trouble on his part.

  Elsewhere in camp, Lt. Sale was eating his breakfast after making guard assignments for the following night. The day shift had just gone out and he was wondering why he hadn’t heard a gunshot from the direction of the General’s tent in the last few minutes. It should have happened over 30 minutes ago. He took up his personal eating kit along with his metal coffee cup and headed to clean and stash them back in his tent. His personal slave was washing her master’s clothes. So she wasn’t around to clean them for him. It wasn’t that far from the General’s tent so he should be able to find out what was going on and in what kind of mood the General was in now.

  In this new Army if you didn’t have your own eating kit of some kind, you didn’t eat until you did or if you did have a friend they would loan you theirs. That was rare as no one wanted to take the chance of not getting it back. Things had to be tougher now in this man’s Army. The slave’s food was served on leaves or pieces
of bark if that’s all they could come up with. They were needed to do the menial and back breaking work, but they could be replaced without too much trouble yet. The General thought that may not last and then they would have to start a breeding program.

  As Lt. Sale walked out of his tent after cleaning his eating kit, he ran into a slave boy of around eleven years of age and knocked the child flat on his butt. The boy had, had his arms full of clean clothes which were now all over the ground.

  “Well you dirty little dog, how dare you run into me.” Sale started to kick the boy as hard as he could. He kicked the boy for over two or three minutes until the young man was nearly unconscious. Sale finally tired of it and just walked away. But he had not been unseen from someone hiding in the nearby thicket. Another local, Calvin Rooks, had volunteered for the next six-hour shift to watch the camp. Cal narrowed his eyes and made sure that the man’s face that had kicked the boy was burned into his memory.

  When no one was paying attention to the boy moaning on the ground, a dark eyed girl of around fifteen slipped over and started to care for him. Tears were rolling down her face. Lucy had seen what had happened. Her little brother Barry had been the one run into, but it didn’t matter to the beast. It looked like he was taking something out on her brother instead. Now Barry also had the possibility of being beaten again if any of the clothes going to Captain Tanner were soiled and had to be re-cleaned. She hadn’t dared try to intervene with Lt. Sale. It would have meant a beating or worse for her. She still felt so guilty for just standing there and watching her brother being kicked as she watched from her hiding place by the side of a tent. When someone was being beaten, you tried your very best to stay out of sight in fear that you would be next. It seemed to be contagious.