Patriots

by James Wesley, Rawles

  Todd interlaced his fingers and clicked his thumbnails together. “We’ve got to show restraint, heed our conscience, and always remember that we are Christians. Instead of playing ‘lifeboat captain’ and just plain taking or ‘requisitioning’ what we want or need, we have always got to engage in fair barter.

  When those in need don’t have anything that they can spare to barter, we’ve got to do our very best to dispense copious charity. To quote Matthew Chapter 8:‘Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.’ I believe in salvation solely by Grace, but I don’t believe in faith without good works. It’s our duty as Christians….” Todd glanced at Kevin Lendel, and quipped, “Sorry, no offense intended with that New Testament stuff, Kevin.”

  Lendel replied, “No offense taken. My God is the same God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I subscribe to the same code of ethics. I just don’t eat pork.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Todd waited for the laughter to die down, and thrust his hands into the pockets of his DPM trousers. He said, “Enough of my lecturing. Now, getting back to the issue of image we want to put forward. What do you folks think we should do next?”

  Mary spoke up. “I’d suggest that the next time you go back to talk to Dunlap one of the women goes with you to soften our image. We can’t come across as being entirely militant. We’ve got to show that we are human, and that we’ve got compassion and balance.”

  Todd’s shoulders slumped. “I think that you’re right.” When a series of votes were taken later in the evening, it was decided that Lisa should go with Todd to the next meeting, and that she should attempt to intervene if Todd and Roger Dunlap started to show any friction. There was general agreement among the group members that it was important to have the militia patrol a large territory. In the short term, it would be a burden to patrol the area and give critical aid to the territory’s inhabitants. In the long term, however, as a more stable situation developed, a large territory would mean a larger base of population with more resources available to barter, and most importantly, a large pool of manpower to form a network of militias to defend against well-organized hostiles. T.K. predicted a situation “somewhat akin to the city states of Italy during the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance.”

  Mike brought out a large map that had been assembled from nine USGS topographical maps and mounted on a piece of plywood. The map was covered with heavy clear “combat” acetate so that it could be marked with water-based fine point felt tip markers. The acetate was already extensively marked with property lines and the surnames of landowners. Mike often used the map board when briefing and debriefing patrols. Following the discussion of how much territory they could handle, it was decided that a north-south line near Deary should mark the dividing point for the two groups’ areas of responsibility for providing aid and security.

  At the end of the meeting, T.K. led the group in a Bible study in 1st Kings, studying Solomon’s alliances with Hiram and Egypt, and Asa and Ahab’s alliances with Ben-Hadad. Then they prayed that God would give them wisdom and strength. They also prayed that God would allow the two groups to reach an understanding and form a lasting, equitable alliance.

  Just before noon on the twenty-fifth, with a light snow falling, Todd and Lisa arrived at the Deary cemetery, again driving Jeff’s Power Wagon. As Todd pulled the pickup to a halt, they could see Dunlap and a woman standing next to two horses that were tied up to the fence that surrounded the graveyard.

  Lisa observed quietly, “Looks like the Templars decided to soften their image as well.”

  Todd let out a faint chuckle in reply. When they stepped out of the cab, they felt a cold blast. The weather had deteriorated considerably since their last meeting. Carrying only their holstered .45s, Todd and Lisa approached Dunlap and the woman.

  “Hello!” Dunlap half-shouted.

  “Hail and well met,” Gray replied.

  As they approached to within a few steps of each other, Todd said, “Roger, I’d like you to meet Lisa Nelson. She’s our logistician, and the wife of our tactical coordinator.”

  Dunlap smiled and replied, “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. This is my wife Teresa, she’s our group counselor.”

  Todd tipped the brim of his boonie hat, and let out a quiet “Ma’am.”After a pause, Todd suggested, “It’s pretty cold today. If you’d like, we can talk in the back end of our rig. We’ve got a kerosene heater and a thermos full of hot tea.”

  Roger Dunlap and his wife exchanged glances, then nods. “Sure, that sounds great,” Roger said.

  Carrying their rifles with them, the Dunlaps crunched through the snow, following Todd and Lisa. Once they were inside the camper shell, Todd shut the tailgate and the back window, propping it open a crack with a scrap block of two-by-four for ventilation. Nobody spoke as Lisa lit the Kerosun kerosene heater-cooker. The four sat cross-legged on the carpet that covered the bed of the pickup, staring at the light of the heater that sat between them. The Dunlaps took off their gloves and wool glove liners and warmed their hands. Again without speaking, Lisa poured tea into four heavy porcelain coffee mugs.

  Finally, after taking a sip of tea, Roger spoke. “Earl Grey—my favorite.”

  Next, everyone tried to speak at once, then laughed.

  After a few pleasantries and talk about the weather, they proceeded to talk business. Roger reported, “We took several votes in the course of two meetings of the Templars. We are prepared to talk terms of an alliance.”

  Todd beamed. “Excellent. What scope for the alliance did you have in mind?”

  After a pause, Roger answered, “We want to set up a mutual aid and security pact. We would each be assigned a geographical area to patrol and secure.”

  Todd beamed. “That’s exactly what we had in mind. However, we also wanted to clearly set our priorities for providing charity—with no strings attached—both to local residents and bands of legitimate refugees.”

  “Agreed,” Dunlap said.

  “Also, one important point: If a lawless band should threaten the region, and if it is too big for either group to handle on their own, then our treaty would commit both groups to provide assistance, even if it means the risk of loss of life.”

  Roger turned up one corner of his mouth and said, “I guess that’s the bottom line, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, indeed. That’s the bottom line,” Todd echoed.

  Dunlap and his wife again exchanged glances. Roger stated, “We agree. We’re willing to covenant on that.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, the two hammered out their differences in terminology and concepts. Lisa and Teresa occasionally made comments and suggestions, but it was mainly Todd and Roger who did the talking. In all, their conversation was much friendlier. The only time that there was any hint of hostility came when the two men discussed where the dividing line between the two groups’ “Areas of Operations” or “A.O.s” should be drawn. Dunlap wanted the line three miles east of Deary. Gray wanted it one mile west of Deary. They eventually reached an agreement after Lisa spoke up and suggested that the residents of Deary would have the benefit of being able to call on the aid of either group if the line was drawn right through the center of town. Pulling out an Idaho road map, Dunlap traced a line for the Templars’ A.O.

  “Very well then. Our common boundary will be this line running north-south through Deary. Our line will then run back west to Kendrick. Then it will run north just to the east side of Moscow, and then back east along a line centering on Potlatch. There’s no need for us to cover Moscow itself. As I’m sure you heard, most of it went up in flames early last year. The residents that were left soon afterward set up a ‘committee of vigilance’ as they call it, complete with roadblocks. We’ve already made a treaty with them, and everything’s copacetic.”

  Todd spoke next. “Those boundaries are perfectly agreeable to us. I’d like the boundaries of the Northwest Militia to run as follows: From th
is ‘Mason-Dixon’ line north to where it meets the Palouse River, east to Hemlock Butte, due south on a line passing just east of Elk City, and then west to a point four miles south of Deary. Agreed?”

  Roger nodded. “I have no problem with those boundaries.” After the boundaries had been sketched onto a copy of the map for each group, the two men shook hands.

  The next item of business was coordination between the groups. “Do you have access to a single sideband CB?” Todd asked.

  Roger nodded, saying, “Yes, one of our base stations is a forty-channel S.S.B. rig.”

  “Okay then, what I’d like to do is set channel one, upper side band, as our main line of communications for coordination between the two groups. We won’t publicize the fact that we use that freq. I’d also suggest that channel seven, full band, be our regional frequency, on which any of the locals can get in touch with either retreat. Normally I’d say channel nine, the old civilian emergency channel, would be the most logical choice, but it still has a lot of garbage traffic. So channel seven it will be. We’ll both monitor it around the clock. When we need to talk privately, we’ll come up on channel seven, make contact, and then use the code phrase ‘Okay, I’ll meet you in Coeur D’Alene, goodbye,’ as the cue to switch to channel one, USB.”

  Dunlap considered Todd’s words, and commented, “That all sounds great.

  However, there’s just one problem. We both have plenty of power, but only a few of the locals still have power sources for their CBs. As people started running out of gasoline, they couldn’t maintain the charges in their car and truck batteries.”

  Lisa chimed in, “I’ve got an idea. We’ve got those small Sovonics photovoltaic panels for each of our vehicles. We normally leave them on the dashboards to keep the batteries maxed up. They put out about a hundred mil-amps in full sunlight. We aren’t using all of our vehicles now, so we could distribute most of these little panels to the locals who have CBs. They could use them to trickle-charge twelve-volt car batteries. That would give them enough power for occasional emergency use of their CBs.”

  Roger raised his eyebrows. “That’s an outstanding idea. We have about five or six of those little ‘Car Pal’ PV panels too, and we’re only using one of them.

  We have a big Jacobs wind generator and racks of Arco Solar panels for both of our stronghold houses, so we really don’t need the small panels. Since our two groups only have a limited number, we’ll just have to be very selective about whom we give the panels to. Logically, those on the main roads, and at the farthest reach of our territory, should get the highest priority. That way we can get early warning of any looters coming into the area.”

  Todd said, “Okay then, that’s agreed. Now for short-range tactical communications, our militia uses Radio Shack TRC-500 headset radios. There’s no way that we could have interoperable communications, though, because we use specially made crystals cut to an odd frequency. If we need to communicate between patrols for a joint operation, we’ll have to use portable CBs set to the same channel. Normally, we’ll use channel seven. For individual operations we’ll agree on another channel and an alternate freq.”

  “That sounds fine, we have two handheld CBs and a boatload of ni-cad and nickel metal hydride batteries. Let’s both put out orders to our groups that at least one CB walkie-talkie will be carried by each of our security patrols.”

  Next, Lisa asked Dunlap if his group had any critical logistic needs. He answered no, then asked the same question of her. She also replied to the negative.

  “Then I suppose that anything we can spare will continue go to refugees and/or the local farmers,” Dunlap said. After this exchange, the conversation once again degenerated into small talk.

  After more tea and nearly an hour of exchanging stories about their recent experiences, Teresa said, “Well, I guess we had better be on our way if we are going to get back to Bovill before dark.” The four then exchanged smiles and handshakes. After brushing the snow off of their saddles, the Dunlaps mounted their horses, waved, and rode into the timber. Todd was glad to see that they didn’t use the road. He mentioned, “We’re going to have to get ourselves some horses.” Then, as he got into the cab of the pickup, he quoted Doug Carlton’s words:“Roads are for people who like to get ambushed.”

  As they drove back to the retreat, Lisa said, “When you two were talking over the map, I couldn’t help but be reminded of something I read about the conference that was held in Yalta at the end of World War II. As the story goes, Roosevelt, who was quite ill at the time, and Stalin sat down with a map that was torn out of an issue of National Geographic. Over the objections of Church-ill, they decided right then and there how they would carve up eastern Europe after the war. Incredible. Two men with a pen and a map decided the fate of millions of people and more than a dozen sovereign states. It boggles the mind when you think of the significance of that one event: the cold war, the Berlin airlift, the Berlin wall, the absorption of Balkan states. I don’t know why historians have glossed over the Yalta conference. I think that if more people paid attention to it, Roosevelt wouldn’t have such a positive reputation. That bastard gave away half of Europe to Uncle Joe Stalin.”

  A sad expression spread across Todd’s face, and then he breathed, “Well… our little treaty that we made today will affect the fate of only a few hundred people, not millions, and hopefully all for the better. One thing is for sure; I feel a lot more comfortable having a big security buffer on our west side. That’s undoubtedly the main approach route for trouble coming into our A.O. The bad guys will probably have to get past the Templars first.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Spring

  “Let us never forget that the cultivation of the earth is the most important labor of man. When tillage begins, other arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of civilization.”

  —Daniel Webster

  For the three months before the birth, Mary had read and read again everything in their library about pregnancy and childbirth. The book she read the most was the midwife’s training book called Heart and Hands by Elizabeth Davis. She made Todd read all the books at least twice, too. She had a fairly easy pregnancy. Mary weighed herself and checked her blood pressure twice a week. From her reading, she knew her best chance for a healthy baby was exemplary diet and plenty of exercise. Using the test strips provided in one of the birthing kits that were stocked at the retreat, she tested her urine for sugar which would indicate gestational diabetes. She also tested it for protein which would indicate toxemia. However, she never had much swelling of her hands and feet, so she was not really concerned about the possibility of toxemia.

  She wished she wasn’t the first woman to give birth at the retreat, since no one else had ever been involved in a birth except herself during her obstetrics rotation in her nurse’s training. Margie had given birth to Della but it was a hospital birth and Margie said that she was “pretty well knocked out” at the time. She had also seen and assisted farm animals give birth. But she had had a pretty difficult time giving birth to Della, and increasingly radiated nervousness about the upcoming home birth. Finally, Mary decided she didn’t want Margie there at all for the birth, even though she was the only one to have gone through it.

  Lisa Nelson, who was about Mary’s age, told Mary she would really like to be there for the birth. She said, “Mary, you might not be able to help at every birth here. I really think I ought to learn as much as I can from you. Someday Mike and I would like to have a family and I want to know what I’m getting myself into.” Lisa was a disciplined and dedicated pupil. Mary was happy she would have her help at the birth. Mary wasn’t too worried about the baby needing any special medical attention since most floppy babies are caused by anesthesia. But Mary was concerned about tearing her perineum when birthing the head and shoulders. The last thing she wanted was Todd or Lisa sewing up her most delicate parts. She wished she could reach to sew herself up if necessary—but that was impossible.

  On the eve
ning of March twenty-fourth of the second year, Mary had a “bloody show.” This was the mucous plug being dislodged as the cervix began to dilate. Mary, Todd, and Lisa were very excited, because they knew that this meant that labor would be beginning soon. She had about three hours of irregular contractions that night, but then they stopped. The next afternoon, irregular contractions began again.

  By dinnertime the contractions were eleven minutes apart. Mary had very loose stools during the day, which was another encouraging sign of early labor.

  About 7 p.m. she became nauseated and vomited, but she knew that this too was nothing to worry about. During this early labor phase, Mary went about her usual daily tasks to keep her mind off the discomfort of the contractions, but she was careful not to tire herself.

  At 8 p.m. Mary felt like she was tensing up more than she wanted to, mainly because her contractions were so strong. Lisa and Todd were invaluable at this time. They reassured her, and started her on breathing exercises to help her get through the intensity of the contractions, and to distract her attention. Suddenly she felt a tremendous pressure, and her bag of water broke. There was amniotic water everywhere. Todd and Lisa were aghast both to see so much fluid, and to see Mary crouched down over the bedsheets, carefully examining them.