The fuse ignited the flare igniter, which ignited the magnesium ribbon, which in turn ignited the thermite mixture. The large molten blob from the grenade burned through a piece of three-quarter-inch plate steel, then dropped a few inches and hit a half-inch plate. It went through that one too, and dropped again to hit another half-inch thick piece. It went nearly all the way through it too, before it finally burned out. Della Carlton was impressed. She shouted,
“Wow! It reminds me of that scene in the movie Alien, where the acidic blood from the face hugger kept going through deck after deck of the ship!”
The second test was on a scrap piece of one-and-one-half-inch plate steel. It was set up at a slight angle. Despite the angle, the glob of furiously burning thermite went through with ease. All of the rest of the thermite grenades were saved for “operational tests.” They had only nineteen pull-ring fuse igniters so most would have to be lit with a match or lighter.
Rose and Doug worked for part of several days, filling the soda cans with a small-mouthed kitchen funnel until they ran out of the thermite mixture. The cans were sealed shut with duct tape over the igniter plug. Then, while laying in neat rows on newspapers in the shop, the grenades were spray painted flat olive drab. There were seventy-seven of them.
CHAPTER 22
Infrastructure
“Put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry.”
—Valentine Blacker, Oliver’s Advice
Order was gradually restored throughout the inland Northwest region by the fifth year after the Crunch began. Lewiston, Moscow, and Grangeville established sheriff’s offices. Each were staffed by men who were either police officers or sheriff’s deputies before the Crunch. With the success of the trading post in Moscow, other trading centers were soon established at Troy, Potlatch, Juliaetta, Orofino, Kamiah, Kooskia, Grangeville, and Lewiston. In Moscow, additional businesses began to open up in proximity to the original trading post. These included a boot and saddle maker, a barbershop, a bakery called the “YREKABAKERY” (which read the same way from either end), and a competing trading post, called the Moscow Emporium. Moscow was the first town in the area to restore its civic water system. By the end of the year it even boasted a trash and manure hauling company.
The first county offices to reopen in Latah, Nez Perce, and Clearwater counties were tax assessor’s offices. Staffed by volunteers, they straightened out the tangle of deeds for the numerous land transactions since the Crunch. Ironically, since there was no official currency, there was no taxation. The newly reestablished Latah County Board of Supervisors declared an indefinite tax moratorium, and a retroactive and universal amnesty on unpaid property taxes.
A three-man arbitrating panel was set up, deciding the disposition of abandoned lands—some of it now occupied by squatters—and land that was not held free and clear when the Crunch hit. In most cases, mortgage holders—if they could be located—settled for final payment in silver coin at the ratio of one dollar in silver coin for each thousand dollars in Federal Reserve Notes outstanding on their mortgages. In a few cases where less than half of the mortgage principal had been paid before the Crunch, mortgagees were evicted, and full title was returned to the note holders. In the summer of the fifth year, the Latah County Board passed a motion that allowed existing colorable “warranty” deeds to be transferred into true deeds of allodial title. Most other counties in northern Idaho and eastern Washington followed suit.
Once the full implications of this change became known, the majority of landowners filed for allodial deeds. Allodial title-holders began referring to each other as “freeholders.”
In May of the fourth year, word came from acquaintances, who lived near Bovill, that regular Sunday and Wednesday church services would be resuming at the town’s Reformed church.
The first Sunday service brought a large turnout. Most of the militia members decided to go. Because it was only a few miles, they, of course, walked. Ken remarked that it seemed strange to be carrying rifles and pistols and walking at five-yard intervals while en route to a church service.
By then, with the help of daily physical therapy with Mary, Terry Layton’s knee had healed and nearly her full strength and flexibility was regained. Terry had no problem with the weekly hike to church.
The Reformed church in Bovill was reestablished by Pastor David Karcherberg. Everyone called him “Pastor Dave.” Many of his sermons stressed the need to work together to rebuild the community and the regional economy. Within days, the church was reestablished as the social hub for the community. The church building was soon put to use for other functions such as bazaars. It also doubled as the town’s schoolhouse. Before the Crunch, the local schoolchildren went by bus to Troy each day for school. Since this was no longer possible, a new school was established at the church building.
Lon Porter, the militia’s only agnostic, and Kevin, who was Jewish, volunteered to provide security back at the retreat during the church services. The day after they went to the second church service, Doug announced at dinner, “I’ve talked this over with Dell, and Jeff and Rose. We feel that our weddings were rather rushed and informal. Not to take away from the covenant over which T.K. officiated, but we are planning another service to recommit ourselves to each other and to Christ. It’s going to be a double June wedding.
Pastor Dave is doing the honors.” There was applause around the dinner table.
Rose chimed in, “This’ll be a great joy. But what are we going to wear?”
Mary answered, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find something nice enough in my closet.”
The re-weddings took place on the second Saturday in June. Just before the first ceremony began, Todd tapped Mary on the shoulder and pointed out the muzzles of the AR-15s and HK91s peeking over the tops of the church pews.
He whispered, “I’ve heard of a shotgun wedding before, but this is the first battle rifle wedding that I’ve ever attended.” Mary gave him a scolding frown and pinched Todd’s side.
Lots were drawn to see whom the unlucky two people were who had to stay behind at the retreat to provide security during the wedding ceremonies.
Mike and Kevin drew the short dowels. Although they missed the wedding ceremony itself, they were at least able to be at the reception, which was held back at the Grays’ house. The only guests from outside the Northwest Militia who attended the wedding were Roger and Teresa Dunlap and five families from Bovill that they had met through the church.
There was a guard change scheduled for the middle of the reception. As Kevin walked into the back of the LP/OP to relieve Mike, he quipped, “Well Mikey, I never thought I’d ever pull a guard shift in a suit and tie.” After Mike started back down the hill to the house, Kevin plopped down on the chair behind the M60. He quoted to himself, “‘Things just get curiouser and curiouser.’”
Just for the occasion, the steel shutters over the windows were opened for the first time since the onset of the Crunch. After so many years of dim light, the full afternoon light streaming through the windows seemed brilliant. All sorts of sweets were made for the reception. Margie had made apple cider from the last of the past year’s storage apples, and Della made cakes and candies. Todd also broke out two bottles of sparkling apple cider that he had squirreled away in one of the basement wall lockers. They played Rose’s favorite John Michael Talbot and Enya CDs.
Toward the end of the reception, Rose got a wistful look in her eye, and then began to cry. Terry asked, “Are those happy tears, or sad tears?”
“B-both. I’m so very happy to be married again publicly, and this is a wonderful reception, but, but I just wish that my parents were here. I don’t know whether they made it through it all.”
Hugging Rose tightly, and with tears now welling in her own eyes, Terry moaned, “You’re not alone, you’re not alone. Most of us have family that we haven’t heard from, either. All that we can do is trust in God for their safety.
Hey, maybe there’ll be a postal service ge
tting started up soon, and you’ll be able to write back to Aurora.”
Before she left the reception, one of the ladies from church, who was wearing a taffeta dress and a Bianchi pistol belt, approached Mary. She praised,
“I just love the way you have your house decorated, and those heavy shutters look just dandy. I’ll bet you sleep well at night with those between you and the bad men.” Mary just smiled and thanked the woman for her compliment. She didn’t bother to mention the fact that the shutters were only the last line of the house’s defense. She later remarked to Todd, “There are some aspects of our security precautions that the locals will probably never hear about. Wouldn’t want to start any rumors, now would we?”
“That’s true,” Todd replied. “A defensive feature that becomes known is far less effective than one that’s a surprise.”
In July, shortly after one of the militia’s security patrols visited the town of Potlatch, some twenty-five miles to the northwest, Dan Fong asked Todd if he could meet with him privately. Todd immediately answered, “Sure, let’s go take a stroll.” The two picked up their HKs from the “ready rack” by the front door, and walked side by side toward the wood lot. After walking for a while in silence, Todd asked, “What’s on your mind, Dan?”
“After we went through Potlatch on our last patrol, I got to thinking. That town has been hit three times by brigands, and hit pretty hard. I was thinking that I might offer my services as a consultant to develop a real security set-up for the town, not just the on-again-off-again roadblock that they’ve been running. They’ve got the manpower for 360-degree round-the-clock security, but they’ve never really done anything about it. What they need is someone like me—someone with the proper tactical skills to get them squared away.”
“All of those young widows we saw up in Potlatch don’t have anything to do with your idea, do they?”
“Well, the thought of finding a wife did cross my mind. I’ve heard that five or six ladies up there might need a man around. You know, someone to ‘console them in their time of need.’” Both men laughed.
Todd began twiddling his thumbs as they walked. “I suppose that with that many to choose from, you can find yourself a real cute gal.”
“Physical attractiveness is not anywhere near the top of my criteria list, Boss.
I’ll be looking for a God-fearing Christian woman that can cook and sew and shoot straight. I don’t want one of those frail ‘Oh I can’t lift it—it’s toooo heavy’ type women. I want to find a good sturdy and hard-working gal with some brains, and faith, and some common sense.”
Todd chuckled and said, “Ah yes.‘Idaho:Where the men are men, and the women are too.’”
“I’m serious, Todd. It’s time that I found a wife. I’m pushing forty years old.
Besides, it’s starting to feel a bit crowded here, especially with the baby starting to toddle around, and probably more on the way.”
Todd stopped and looked Dan squarely in the face and said, “‘Each man has to have the wisdom to find his own way.’ If you feel that it is truly time to move on, you’ll go with my blessing. I agree, things are getting too cozy here. And I suppose that now that there’s less brigand activity, we won’t need as many people that are combat ready here at the retreat.”
Dan and Kevin took a horseback trip to Potlatch later that same week.
They returned three days later. Todd soon called for a group meeting to hear about their trip.
Dan was visibly elated as he gave his report. “My mission was a complete success. The Potlatch ‘Committee of Vigilance’ as they call it, has agreed to hire me on at the rate of twenty dollars in silver coin per month. I’ll also be given full allodial title to a vacant brick house on Main Street, if I agree to stay on for five years. I also got the freeholders to agree to supply me with all the firewood I need, as part of my compensation. They’re giving me the title of ‘sheriff.’ I can select whomever I want for deputies. I’ll have one full-time deputy on the payroll, and as many unpaid volunteers as I see fit. This is a real primo opportunity for me.”
“Won’t it be dangerous?” Rose asked.
“Sure, it’ll be a little dangerous. But so was living in Chicago before the Crunch. And back then, a man couldn’t carry a gun to defend himself without fear of getting arrested. Things are different now. I’ll be the law in Potlatch.”
Just then, Mike Nelson whistled the main theme to the film The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. It was followed by a chorus of “Wah-Wah-Waaah,” by nearly everyone in the room.
“Oh maaan,” Dan complained, “I can’t get any respect. I’ve just been named a town sheriff, and you guys still razz me.”
Mike retorted with, “You’re just so razzable, Fong.”
Todd threw out, “All teasing aside, we want to wish you good luck. I’m sure that you’ll be very successful. You’ll be in our daily prayers.”
Kevin nudged Dan in the ribs and said, “I’ll bet he’ll be married inside of a month. The Fong man here was practically drooling over all those lovelies up there in Potlatch.” The room was filled with howls of laughter and catcalls.
After the ruckus died down, Dan said, “Hey, I noticed that your eyes were pretty well locked on the ladies most of the time we were up there too, so lay off.”With that, Kevin’s face turned red and he sat down. The room was once again filled with laughter.
The next day, with the help of Ken Layton, Dan took on the task of reviving his long immobile Toyota four-wheel-drive pickup. This took several hours. They started early in the morning by wheeling the garden cart out to the wood lot. In it they carried a jack, a bottle of distilled water, a hydrometer, a five-gallon water can, a five-gallon gas can, five quarts of oil, an oil filter, a spray can of ether-based starting fluid, Mike’s small tool kit, a pair of jumper cables, and the battery from Todd’s Power Wagon.
Upon lifting the hood, they found that mice had built a nest on top of the engine block. After they had removed the mouse nest, replaced the oil in the crankcase, and added water to the battery and radiator, they found it was fairly easy to get the engine started. The only problem encountered came when Ken put the rig through an idling test. After ten minutes of idling, one of the heater hoses split, sending water cascading over the exhaust manifold and making clouds of steam. Replacing both heater hoses from Todd’s reel of spare high-temperature three-quarter-inch hose took only fifteen minutes.
Both the top and bottom radiator hose were still flexible and showed no signs of cracks. This was fortunate, as Dan did not have a set of spare hoses. The stocks of spares on hand at the retreat would be no help—they were for late 60s-early 70s Fords and Dodge Power Wagons. As they were reinstalling the battery that they had borrowed from Todd’s truck, Ken pointed out the incompatibility of the radiator hoses to Dan.
“I know, I know,” he replied. “If only I’d bought a group-standard vehicle, I’d have a running rig for several more years. Don’t remind me. I was an obstinate fool back then, and now I’m sorry for it.”
Layton put his hand on Fong’s shoulder and avowed, “I’ve got news for you Dan. You’re still pretty obstinate, but at least you’re not a fool. You never were a fool. If you had been, I wouldn’t have associated with you.”
Dan spent the next two days sorting through his gear and packing his truck.
It soon became clear that he would not have room for all of his equipment and the remnants of his storage food. He packed the most important gear, and left the rest in a pile in the basement. He told the Grays that he would be back for the rest of it and his horse when he returned for the first of what he hoped would be regular visits.
There was no melodramatic farewell for Dan Fong. He simply made his goodbyes to each of the militia members and hopped in his truck. As he drove out the front gate, he was again singing along with his favorite Creedence Clearwater Revival tape.
Word came three months later that Dan had married a widow with two young children. They also heard that under Dan’s di
rection, the Potlatch Vigilance Committee was setting up LP/OPs on three sides of town, and a roadblock on the fourth.
At one of Pastor Dave’s first sermons, he mentioned that he would soon be setting up a charity to benefit refugees and others in great need. Immediately after the service, Todd and Mary approached the minister, and told him about their collection of coins and equipment captured from looters. Pastor Dave didn’t hesitate about accepting the offer.
Later that day, when they began unloading the bed of Todd’s pickup at the back door of the church building, the pastor could not believe his eyes. When Todd dumped out the sack containing the coins, watches, and jewelry, Pastor Dave remarked, “All this was from the looters? The Lord works in mysterious ways.” Much of the captured equipment was sold at an auction to benefit the charity. Not surprisingly, some of the militia members bought some of the gear that they had secretly longed for.
Near the winter’s solstice of the fourth year, Kevin asked Todd to call a special group meeting. He said that he wanted to make a proposal to the militia as a whole. When everyone was assembled, Kevin began, “I’d like to make a suggestion that we split the militia in half. We’d open up my house to shelter half of us there, while the rest would stay here. These are the reasons that I’ve considered. First, we really have too many people to live here comfortably.
There just isn’t the floor space. Second, having a second retreat would provide a fallback position, in case one or the other burns down or gets overrun in an attack. Third, the isolation created by splitting in two might help protect us if there is ever any sort of plague. Fourth, we are letting a lot of good talent go to waste that we’ve been seeing in some of these groups of refugees passing through. If we split into two retreats, then we will each be able to recruit a few more members.”
After a pause to let his words sink in, Lendel added, “This will mean that we can bring in some people with needed skills like perhaps a doctor, a veterinarian, a plumber, a carpenter, or a blacksmith. Fifth, and finally, because my house is only a stroll down the road, we could have both radio and field telephone communications. That way, if either retreat came under siege, then the members of the other retreat could form a reaction team to outflank the attackers. What do you think?”
Patriots Page 40