299 Days: The 43 Colonels

by Glen Tate

  “They came with books and theories on governing. They knew history and political science. They knew public policy—tax systems, regulatory systems, and economic systems. They were so hopeful.”

  “I also think of the ‘grown ups’ as I called them. The elected officials and middle-aged policy people. The ones who had tried to govern the right way, but realized it couldn’t be done with the old system.” She paused. “Actually, they would tell you that it could be done with the older system if the people wanted to have freedom and prosperity. But the majority of them didn’t, and they got what they wanted.”

  “In particular, I think of Sen. Trappford. What a wonderful man. What a leader. He was the glue that held the Think Farm together. He had so many tricks to tell the others. He could tell a story about how he bamboozled government people and everyone would learn from it. They just thought they were listening to a funny story, but he was holding class.” She started to tear up.

  “Then they took him from us.” She cried a little more but regained her composure.

  “The second thing I think about is the danger,” she began. “I always put it out of my mind when I was at the Think Farm. I had these amazing ways of just not thinking about it. But when I got really scared—and I did, you just never noticed it because I hid it—I realized that God was protecting us.”

  “How did He do that? One of the ways was with the security forces we had out there. There have been so many brave people mentioned here today. So many. But the soldiers and agents who guarded us were some of the very bravest. They were intentionally putting themselves at the one place the Limas most wanted to destroy. We know now, from intercepted intelligence reports, how obsessed the Limas were with finding out where all the Patriot political leadership was hiding. We had dozens of people out there; the odds were one of them would slip and get us detected. Many of us privately felt that it wasn’t if a Lima attack came, it was when.”

  “I remember talking to the soldiers and agents about their families. So many of them had to leave their wives and kids behind. They couldn’t tell them where they were. They couldn’t call them or communicate in any way with them. They knew their families probably wouldn’t be there after the war when they could rejoin them. They also knew that if our side lost, they would be hunted down for the rest of their lives.”

  “Yet there they were, hiding for twelve hours around my driveway, protecting me and the people in my house and the surrounding houses. There they huddled in the bushes, motionless and silent, with nothing to do but think about how they would probably never reunite with their families.”

  “I was so much luckier,” she said. “My husband and kids were right there with me. I can’t imagine getting through this without them.” She paused again. “Sometimes I felt guilty exposing them to so much danger. But I knew the outside world was much more dangerous for them. They were related to me, so they were targets.” She said this because, as a long-time liberty activist, she was on every list the Limas had.

  “Look at all the good we did on the Think Farm,” she said, transitioning to a topic of broad interest to the audience. “It was like Philadelphia in 1787,” she said, referring to when the Constitution was written. “All those brilliant minds, all those good people trying to construct something that would guarantee freedom for generations. Working together, compromising, arguing, laughing, and then taking a break for brownies.” She looked out into the audience.

  “It was a magical time.”

  Chapter 377

  Col. Wes Marlin

  (“Little Guy”)

  From magic to tragic, Ben thought. This next one was the colonelship Ben had dreaded giving. While he never personally knew Wes, one of his best friends did. Grant had told Ben many stories about Wes. The theme of most of the stories was what a thoroughly honorable and decent man he was. How he always helped people. How much potential he had. How he had just been trying to have a decent life. How he finally found the love of his life and would be a father.

  “This one is personal, although I never met Col. Wes Marlin,” Ben said. He explained that Wes was on the Team with Grant and what Grant had told him about Wes.

  Grant was shocked that Wes had been named a colonel. Not that Wes didn’t deserve it, because he most certainly did. The Team had turned down a colonelship. The Legislature must have decided to honor Wes anyway. That was all right; it was their prerogative.

  Hearing Wes’ name brought back a flood of emotions for Grant and the other Team members. He looked at the Team in the wings of the Legislature and watched as, one by one, they put their hands over their faces and started to cry.

  “Col. Marlin is being honored because he is an example of the sacrifices thousands of other New Washingtonians made. He sacrificed his life for us.” Grant started to cry as he thought of the last time he saw Wes alive and then when he saw the body. His life had been taken. Stolen.

  “We couldn’t give out a colonelship to everyone who died for us,” Ben explained, “but there was something special about Col. Marlin—how he lived, how he served us, and how he died.” Ben pointed at a soldier who got up and came toward the rostrum.

  “To explain this, we have a special guest, one whom we had to look hard to find: Wes’ father, Master Sergeant Richard Marlin.”

  Grant couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Wes’ dad, the one who was never satisfied with Wes and always let him know it. Grant thought there must have been some mistake; how could the Legislature let this guy speak on behalf of Wes?

  His dad solemnly came up to the rostrum. He could barely speak. “Rangers don’t cry,” he said as he blurted out a nervous laugh and wiped a tear from his eye. “Rangers don’t cry,” he repeated.

  “That’s what I used to say to Wes when he was little and hurt himself or was disappointed. You see, I thought I was raising him right by making him tough. It’s a tough world out there; Lord knows we’ve seen that recently. He needed to be tough.”

  Wes’ dad stopped to wipe a tear away. “But I overdid it. I was too rough on him. I never told him how proud I was of him.” He started to wipe away another tear and then stopped.

  “No, Rangers do cry, Wes,” he said looking up to the ceiling. “They do, little guy.” It took him a few moments to regain his composure.

  “I’m so proud of you, Wes,” his dad said. “So very, very proud.” He looked up at the ceiling again and said, “You retired at a higher grade than me,” he said, referring to the fact that colonel outranked a master sergeant. “An officer. My son was an officer,” he said. “First one in the family. I’m proud, little guy.”

  Wes’ dad started crying again. Finally, he said, “I wish you could see me telling you how proud I am.”

  He’s watching right now the outside thought said to Grant.