The Missouri and South Carolina militia ripped into the DHS troops with a vengeance. Those agents had not been warned they were being flanked. The pompous attitude of the agents in charge didn’t see the need to coordinate with the Houston police chief. Why should they, when they had a direct line to the attorney general! Chief Henry had no real method to warn them.
The chief watched in shock, stunned by the efficiency of the highly organized militia.
“Look, they have four .50s…” pointed out his assistant police chief. “Sir? Sir? Do we engage?”
“No, do NOT engage!”
The .50-calibers were making quick work of the armored vehicles. Many agents began running into nearby buildings or surrendering, throwing their weapons down to the advancing militia.
Two light battalions of the Texas Militia were advancing in parallel from Milam Street. DHS forces were suddenly outnumbered and outmatched.
The two fighter jets launched from Ellington were making a beeline to the U.S. aircraft carrier and its support ships in the Gulf. The fighters that were buzzing downtown had bugged out to engage the Texas fighters before they could launch their deadly missiles on the carrier. The two Texas Apaches were now moving in and out of sight of the Jewish Community Center.
The scene on the ground was so hectic that the Apaches had no clear shot on DHS troops. Even the exposed armored vehicles were too close to Texas Guard militia and Tea Party volunteers to use any weaponry. The choppers continued to scour the outskirts of downtown for any DHS reinforcements or U.S. military troops.
The Texas Guard generals were outflanking Washington and the Joint Chiefs. Brahman’s plan all along was to take the offensive and hit Johnson with surprises he never expected. He needed enough distractions to allow the vote to go forward. So far, Johnson and Tibbs definitely had unplanned contingencies to deal with.
Chuck was still herding people out of the area as skirmishes continued to break out within a four-block area. He had successfully gotten most of the voters out of the center and had helped load the electronic ballot boxes into a van, which screamed out of the alley, cut across a concrete basketball court, clipping a fence but managing to escape with the votes that had been cast before the violence broke out.
The number of shots being heard was rapidly decreasing. As Chuck ran through the first floor of the Jewish Center, he rounded a corner next to an escalator and came to an immediate and painful stop.
Lying on the floor was a young woman with two gaping bullet wounds and lying in a pool of blood. She was gasping for air, but was still alive. She had a flag attached to a homemade flag pole that looked as if it was made from a broom handle.
“I need a doctor! We need a doctor here! Somebody call 9-1-1!” Nobody was listening, as the scene was still too hot. The woman, who he guessed to be nineteen or twenty years old, grasped Chuck’s hand with her left hand, but would not let go of the crude flag pole.
“Damn it! I need a doctor!” he continued to scream as he tried to apply pressure to the wounds.
She was dying—quickly.
“Sweetheart, what is your name? You’re going to be okay,” he lied.
The young woman tried to speak, but was aspirating badly. Blood was also streaming from her mouth. She was desperately trying to tell Chuck something.
“Hang on, sweetheart. We’ll get someone here to help you soon,” Chuck said to her as he tried to hold back his tears.
She continued to try to speak. Chuck thought maybe she was trying to tell him her name. He lowered himself to get very close to her face to try to hear her over the noise of the chaos that was still intermittent on Travis Street.
“Yes, honey?”
She let go of the tight grip she had on his hand and tried to lift her arm. At first, Chuck wasn’t sure what she was trying to communicate. Her arm and hand were blood-soaked. But, underneath the blood, on the back of her hand, Chuck saw it. Covered with blood but still stuck to her hand was a little white sticker that read: “I voted.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey! You’re going to be okay,” said Chuck. He could no longer hold back his tears, as he tried to move her dark chestnut hair out of her face.
She was still trying to speak. Chuck again lowered his head to her face to try to hear her name.
“I… I.. I love… love Texas,” she managed in a barely audible whisper. Then she gasped, and her arms shook slightly as she died.
“Oh, God, no… Oh, God. You poor thing. Oh, God! Noooo!” he sobbed.
Gunshots were still ringing in the street and occasionally still in the building. A round that hit the escalator barely ten feet above his head startled Chuck back to reality.
He rose up and looked at the young woman once more, then reached over and closed her eyelids. Then he noticed she still gripped the flagpole lying in the blood.
He picked up the improvised flagpole and saw the Texas flag, mostly drenched in blood. On the white bar, stitched boldly in red letters, was the number “1789.”
The young girl had taken it upon herself to make her own statement. She had defied the order not to vote and, in protest, stitched “1789” on the Lone Star Flag, the year the United States Constitution was ratified. This young girl had simply wanted her government to follow her Constitution and allow her to cast a vote. Like the heroes at the Alamo, she was making her own personal statement to return to the Constitution. And, like those heroes, she was killed for it.
It took just ten seconds for this to set in for Chuck.
Chuck set down his rifle, and used both hands to carry the blood-slippery handle. He began walking to the Travis Street entrance, then he slowly began to run. The glass doors had already been completely shattered. He ran out of the building, onto the plaza in front of the building, his clothes soaked in the young girl’s blood. He began waving the flag and screaming to anyone who would listen.
“YOU KILLED A GIRL FOR VOTING! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU SONS OF BITCHES? I SAID YOU KILLED A YOUNG GIRL WHO SIMPLY VOTED! THIS IS HER BLOOD! DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU—UGH…”
Suddenly Chuck’s chest exploded, ripped by bullets from the corner building. Chuck looked briefly confused, but tried to wave the flag higher. Then he was again hit by another round in his right thigh.
Chuck stumbled forward onto his knees, landing face first against one of the six large concrete planters in front of the building. The planter held Chuck in an awkward position, but the broom-handle flagpole was wedged between him and the planter. The flag furled and covered most of Chuck’s body.
Modern-day Texas hero Chuck Dixon died within seconds, holding the young girl’s blood-soaked flag. Within minutes, the entire world witnessed this heroic but disturbing image of Election Day in Texas.
Chapter 51
“We view ourselves on the eve of battle. We are nerved for the contest, and must conquer or perish. It is vain to look for present aid: none is at hand. We must now act or abandon all hope! Rally to the standard, and be no longer the scoff of mercenary tongues! Be men, be free men, that your children may bless their father’s name. But, when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.”
~ General Sam Houston (1793-1863)
Hero of the Battle of San Jacinto
First President of the Republic of Texas
Images of Chuck Dixon began hitting the world news by 10:45 a.m. Most of the violence being broadcast was located in Houston, Dallas, San Antonio and Austin.
In Austin, Gov. Brahman became physically ill upon seeing the video of Chuck Dixon being shot; it had been captured live by CNN cameras. Before excusing himself to the rest room to throw up, the governor barked out orders to a staffer to immediately reach the safe house where Christy Dixon was moved before she and her son could see the pictures or video streaming from almost every news site.
When the gov
ernor came back into the large room, he seemed to have a new level of intensity, which was saying something since he was commonly known to be intense anyway. The room, proud and defiant a few minutes before, had the wind knocked out of it as staff and state officials watched the very likeable and popular Dixon gunned down, his body wrapped in a bloody Texas flag and propped up by a concrete planter.
“Jeff, what are these scenes in Houston and elsewhere doing to us throughout the state?” asked the governor, wondering aloud if the carnage was keeping voters away.
“I won’t have the new numbers until the top of the hour, but this can’t be good,” said Weaver.
“Why hasn’t the military moved? What is his next move?” asked the governor.
“Sir, we are getting reports that there is serious dissension in the troops. We are being told there are conflicting orders. Some aren’t willing to move on another state or fellow Americans. There is a slight crack in the chain of command, it appears!” yelled Brig. Gen. Sterling, smiling wryly.
“Where’s our fighters in the Gulf?”
“They’ve peeled off from the route to the carrier as planned, but the Navy jets are on their tails. At least we pulled them out of Houston,” answered Sterling.
What the governor and his staff couldn’t know was that the live images being carried on television and the Internet were having an effect on Texans, but not the effect Gov. Brahman expected and certainly not the effect the administration intended.
Texans were outraged. They were leaving their work, homes and schools and migrating to polling places en masse.
In College Station, Texas, the home of Texas A&M University, the school cancelled classes so those eligible to vote could. The nearest polling place, in Bryan just a few miles away, was moved to the A&M campus by 11:00 a.m. to accommodate more voters. Schools and businesses around the state followed, but the mainstream media was reporting school closings because of the isolated cases of violence in the major cities.
“Governor!” screamed a staffer. “I’ve got various polling places calling in saying they’re overwhelmed with lines stretching around their polling places and some saying they have a two- or more-hour wait!” she said proudly.
Cheers went up in the governor’s makeshift situation room.
“Thank God!” exclaimed Brahman.
The joy was short-lived as casualty reports began coming in, especially from Dallas and Houston.
“Governor, sir, we have unconfirmed reports of at least eighty dead in Dallas and some number that will eclipse two hundred in Houston. I have no idea at this point if they are voters, feds or Texas Guard troops,” Brig. Gen. Sterling reported somberly.
“I hope Texas remembers,” said Texas Atty. Gen. Weaver.
“Texans never forget. That’s either our curse or one of our best attributes, I’m not really sure which,” replied the governor.
* * *
Meanwhile, the president and key members of his cabinet were in the situation room, which was adorned with snacks, drinks and party favors as if they were sitting down to watch the Super Bowl. However, it was clear their team was being outscored. What began as an apparent victory for President Johnson in shutting down the Texas election suddenly started to show that momentum was shifting.
The Joint Chiefs were all in attendance and suddenly all eyes turned to Chairman Herrera.
“General, why are our military troops not moved from the checkpoints? Where the hell are they? Houston needs them NOW!” yelled Tibbs.
The members of the Joint Chiefs from each branch of the military sat in chairs against the wall behind Herrera. They looked down toward the floor as Herrera was berated in front of all.
“Mr. President, what we had not guessed or planned for was the resistance of our troops to initiate hostilities against another state. We have widespread acts of conscience hurting our ability to maneuver and operate. Even in the officers’ ranks, it has disrupted our chain of command,” Herrera admitted.
Both Johnson and Tibbs were incensed. Neither had served in the military and neither had much regard for the military. To both, the military was a tool to advance their political agenda.
“Fix it! I mean fix it now! Are you telling me that troops are going AWOL, that they are committing treason and are refusing to obey orders?” asked the president.
“Mr. President, if I may?” said the Marine Corps Commandant, which irritated Herrera as he considered this speaking out of turn.
“Texans represent the highest percentage of enlisted Marines and it’s not even close, sir. Regardless of any plan to invoke hostilities on a sovereign state and the constitutionality of such an action, this plan was flawed from the standpoint that Texans are simply not going to fire on fellow Texans, much less whether Americans will fire upon fellow Americans,” said the commandant stiffly.
Tibbs turned to glare at Herrera, with a look for the ages.
“Why the hell wasn’t this considered?” demanded Tibbs.
“Mr. President, this concern was raised in various meetings with some of you present but, as events transpired, we simply did not have the time or resources to cull out every Texan from the units without either tipping our hand or maintaining combat readiness,” replied Herrera.
“Sir, the Keepers of the Oath are also playing a large part,” continued the commandant, to the visible dismay of Herrera.
“What the hell are you talking about?” demanded the president.
“Sir, many have taken an additional oath not to obey or follow orders that one considers unconstitutional,” answered the commandant.
“They will be shot by firing squad!” roared Tibbs.
“Mr. President, in light of the fact that I have also taken this oath, I hereby tender my resignation.”
“Resignation? You are refusing to obey a direct order to launch troops into Texas? That is treason, commandant. We will have you shot, too!” screamed Tibbs, veins popping out on his neck as he jumped up from his chair.
“Mr. President, I also offer my resignation,” said the vice admiral flatly.
One by one, each member of the Joint Chiefs offered their resignations, turned and saluted Herrera and the president, and walked out of the situation room.
“Arrest them!” yelled Tibbs to his staff members as the Joint Chiefs left the room. The staff scurried with Secret Service agents and senior FBI officials as they met the military professionals on the first floor and placed them under arrest.
“General, you better get your act together and get these plans back on track in a heartbeat!” said the president ominously.
“Yes, sir,” said Herrera as he left the room with his staff to try to re-establish some semblance of chain of command to re-implement the game plan.
“Mr. President, reports are coming in that voter turn-out in rural and small towns in Texas began with light turnout, but are now very heavy,” said an astonished Avery Smith.
“Damn, Avery. I know we couldn’t shut down every polling place. It sure would have helped to have the military rolling by now, but it’s not too late. Hell, it’s not even noon there yet, is it?”
“No, sir. Let’s hope Herrera can get the plan back on track. We do have one contingency, sir, and I’ll be happy to go over that with you now,” said Smith as he began to lay out the back-up plan.
* * *
By mid-day, world leaders were expressing a wide range of responses to the escalation of violence resulting from the United States federal government’s attempt to suppress the special election vote being held in Texas.
Responses ranged from outrage to regret. Even some of the United States’ allies were issuing strongly worded condemnations of the Johnson administration. There simply was not a country or ally wherein the U.S. had a better relationship since Johnson took office than the U.S. had before his election, with the possible exception of Mexico. Johnson’s amnesty orders and refusal to deport Mexican nationals had endeared him to Mexico City, which favor was returned by the Mexicans’ coo
peration in Operation Santa Anna.
Fox News was the first to report that the Joint Chiefs had been arrested in the White House. The White House would neither confirm nor deny the reports. When Johnson learned of the report, he was incensed; there had to be a leak in the West Wing. Even the Navy recalled its fighters to the carriers positioned in the Gulf.
Fox also reported that Johnson was planning a large-scale military invasion of Texas. Even some of Johnson’s most ardent supporters in Congress began to waver and openly question the end game and the violence. Top Democratic leadership in Congress had been assured that the administration could shut down the election without such a drastic measure. Only the most liberal wing of the Party was open to such a strategy, and many couldn’t wait to punish Texas and the fundamental Conservative ideology deeply rooted in Texas culture.
By 3:00 p.m. CST, the state had beaten back attempts to shut down polling places. Even where the administration had been successful in closing a polling place, another would pop up within an hour near where the first had closed. Tibbs referred to the mobility of the polling places as “cockroaches.” Some of the polling places were simply large RVs that could be moved quickly. Volunteers using two-way radios coordinated their movements and many were assigned to educate voters where to go once administration-friendly police departments or sheriffs dispersed them.
News reports were picking up a trend at polling places all over Texas. Voters were showing up with Texas flags with “1789” written on the white bar in red letters to honor the young unnamed girl and Chuck Dixon.
Gen. Herrera reported back to the president that the original plan was not possible in the original time frame. His officer corps was fractured and the news of the arrest of the Joint Chiefs had alarmed senior officers, who already did not trust this president.
Casualty reports continued to scroll across every news broadcast on the bottom of the screen, updated like a ticker symbol from Wall Street. Governors, especially in the south and mountain west regions, were outraged and began again calling for Johnson’s impeachment.
A State of Treason Page 34