Adrian's War

by Lloyd Tackitt

  “Used to be all Wolfgang did was come in with about twenty armed men and tell us to bring them food. We would pile the food up until they were satisfied and left. We still had enough to get by. A gunfight right here in our streets didn’t seem wise. When we heard about you, and how you were whipping up on them single-handed, it was like a miracle. One man could do that? If one man could do that, imagine what we could do if we just knew how. We kept hoping you’d come see us, come lead us. When they took our people hostage, it changed. We knew we had to do something, but we still didn’t know how to go about it. We simply don’t know what to do, where to go, how to attack. Their fighting men out number our fighting men, so a straight up attack didn’t seem the right way to do it. Yet what else could we do? We couldn’t figure out anything, though. No expertise. When you showed up today it was the most perfect timing you could ever imagine. We were going to march up the road tomorrow and probably commit suicide. But now, now you can lead us. You can show us what to do, and how to do it.”

  Adrian sat quietly for a moment. “How many able-bodied men will I have to work with?”

  “Twenty three men over 18 years of age. Armed with every kind of rifle you can imagine. All the willingness you could dream of, but no fighting skills. Enthusiasm galore and guts too. But no idea what to do, or how to do it.”

  “Twenty three’ll be enough. I have a plan in mind and they should be able to execute it. I’ll need to get them out of town and into the woods before I explain the plan. I don’t want anyone here in the village to know what we’re going to do. If Wolfgang sends men here to grab more hostages or to interrogate I don’t want him forewarned. He’d find out we’re out there planning an attack—which is bad enough—but he won’t know the exact plan. I won’t tell the men the key details until the last moment. We’re outnumbered and our attack depends on surprise. If Wolfgang knew our plan he could come up with a way to defend himself and his men against it. You spread the word to the people who stay behind. They must not say anything to anyone. Secrecy is absolutely imperative. If they talk, they may end up bringing down the whole thing, which in this case, would mean the end of this village.”

  The old woman asked, “Is it true what that man told us? Did you kill twenty of Wolfgang’s men with a bow and arrow? You’ve been fighting them by yourself all winter? They haven’t been down to bother us. Did you have them so scared that they wouldn’t leave camp?”

  Adrian replied, “I hate to count the dead like that, but it was more than twenty, and more put out of action permanently. I let them leave camp to hunt for food, so they wouldn’t need to raid your village any sooner than necessary. Other than that I kept them pretty much bottled up most of the time. It’s not as hard as you might imagine, if you’ve had the training and experience that I’ve had.”

  The old woman said “More than twenty? Damn it, son, you must be a holy terror on wheels. Do you have any idea how far and wide your story has been told? People out there are desperate for good news. They are desperate for leadership. There are too many bad guys out there, and not enough good guys. They talk about you around campfires at night. Stories are told about you that couldn’t possibly be true. It’s like Daniel Boone or Davie Crockett all over again. You’re a legend, and that legend is going to grow and grow with each retelling. I’ve even heard the stories being told on the ham radio—it’s spread everywhere. People need a hero, and it looks like you stepped up at the right time and in the right way to fill that role.”

  “That can’t be,” Adrian said. “I haven’t done that much, and it wasn’t that hard. They made me mad, really mad. So I decided to take them to task for it, and I have. But it isn’t something that proves leadership. What I’ve been doing isn’t enviable, shouldn’t be something to hold up as an example. I have been killing men in the meanest way possible. How is that heroic?”

  The old woman said, “Son, you don’t understand. Those men deserve every misery you put on them and then some; and everyone damn well knows it. There are other groups like them that deserve it too, and other people that would love to see you come do it, or to help them do it. If nothing else, it gives them hope that maybe they can do it themselves. People need heroes, especially in this day and age. Say, those are some pretty nasty scars. What got hold of you? Was it something Wolfgang’s men did?”

  “These? No, I ran into a grizzly bear and we got into a fight. I killed him with my spear, but it was a close thing.”

  The old woman slapped her knee and laughed a high old woman’s cackle. “See there! That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You killed a grizzly bear with a sharp stick and act like it was nothing special. From the spread of his claws he was a monster bear! I’ll tell that story tonight. In a week it will have traveled far out onto the plains and over the mountains to the coast. It’ll be picked up on the ham radio and spread like wildfire. People will add it to the legend, how Hunter killed a grizzly bear with a stick. The campfires will be resounding with tales, taller and taller every day. You’re a natural son, a natural.”

  Adrian heard the buzzing sound of men gathering outside. He got up, shook his head with dismay at the old woman, knowing nothing he could say would stop her from making a big deal out of the bear story. He walked outside and saw that most of the men were there, a few more trotting down the street. He counted heads. Twenty-three, just like the old woman said. She knew her people, she was a natural politician. Adrian was afraid she would make a career out of pumping up those Hunter stories. Nothing he could do about it right now. There were bigger fish to fry.

  “Listen up. We’re going into the woods. When we get away from here I’ll tell you the plan, explain it so that each of you understands your part in it.” Adrian turned and walked up the street towards the forest.

  The ragged band of men followed behind him, cheering and chanting. “Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!” turning his name into a war chant. They followed the elk skin-clad tall man as he strode rapidly and confidently into the dark woods. They were on their way to give hell to their enemies, at long last.

  Chapter 20

  HE STOPPED IN A SMALL clearing a half-mile into the woods, and turned to face the twenty-three men following him. “Men, I have a small speech to make. Settle down and get comfortable.” He waited while they sorted themselves out, dropping packs and squatting on their heels or sitting on the ground. When they had settled in he said, “This is a volunteer mission. I don’t know you men; I don’t know what each of you is capable of or not capable of. I don’t have time to find out the right way, either. Normally I’d want a full month with you before starting what we are going to do, but we don’t have that luxury. So, I have to depend on you to be honest, not just with me, but with yourself, and your neighbor next to you.

  “I know each and every one of you wants to help and is willing to fight. At least in the heat of the moment you believe you are. It’s easy to get caught up in all the hoorah, to get snarled up in peer pressure. But there are men who aren’t made for fighting, and if they try, they get themselves and others hurt or killed. There is no shame or embarrassment attached to that. We’re not all built alike. I can’t play a guitar, tried to but couldn’t get the feel of the thing. There is no shame in that. It’s just the nature of man that some are fighters and some aren’t. Some are painters and some aren’t. Each of you are to take a half hour to sit quietly and think about this. Are you sure you can fight? Are you sure that when the lead starts flying, you can shoot back, and actually aim to kill a man? Are you sure that if the man standing next to you catches a bullet in the face that you can keep on going into those bullets? These are hard questions. Tough questions. I don’t expect every one of you to say you can.

  “I’m going to the other side of the meadow, and I’ll wait there. In half an hour I want those who truly believe they can fight to come to me, one at a time. I want you to come over there and look me straight in the eyes and tell me that you can fight. I want you to give me your personal word of honor that you will fight t
o the death if need be. I want your oath that you will die for the man standing next to you and for the people behind you in the village. I also want your sworn word that you will follow my orders instantly and without question. That, too, is of extraordinary importance. I might give you orders that you believe in your own heart to be wrong, or incorrect for the situation. But obedience is the essence of discipline and discipline wins wars more than anything else.

  “Any man that can’t honestly do that should go back to the village and defend it. In my eyes you will be every bit a man as the ones who say they can fight. Defending the village is just as important as what we are going to do. Any man that can look into his own soul and see the truth, and act appropriately on that truth, is a man to respect, and will always have my respect.” Adrian walked across the meadow and sat with his back to the group. He took out his bowie knife and began sharpening it, even though it didn’t need sharpening. He was nervous, afraid that maybe his speech was too convincing, that none of the men would follow him now.

  Thirty minutes later the men lined up and began walking across the meadow to Adrian one at a time, each taking a moment to look directly into his eyes and swear an oath in their own words to follow his orders and fight to the death for his comrades. It took an hour for all twenty-three men to swear their oaths. Adrian could not have been happier with the results. These men had taken his speech to heart. They had looked at him with clear eyes and clean consciences and sworn their allegiance to him. They would fight as well as they knew how, and they would obey his orders. It was up to him to use them efficiently, to not waste their efforts or their loyalties—or their lives.

  When all of the men were sworn in, Adrian addressed them again. “OK, we need to elect officers. You men know each other and have some idea of each other’s capabilities. We need four captains. I’m going to break you up into four groups of six, with one five-man group that I’ll lead myself. Normally I select the captains. But, we don’t have time for me to get to know everyone that well, so I am depending on you. No false modesty, please; it will only get people killed. No personal animosities. Just honest evaluations as to who are the four best leaders in this group. We will do it by secret ballot.

  “Anyone have paper and a pencil? All right, hand out pieces of paper big enough to write four names. Pass them out. Each of you write down the four names of the men you think should be captains. Go with your instincts; don’t over-think it. You already know in your gut who they are so let your gut tell you. Don’t show them to each other. Don’t discuss your choices. Write them down, fold them over, and hand them to me. Nominate yourself if you think you should. Hurry up now.”

  Ten minutes later Adrian had counted the votes. “The Captains are, and by almost unanimous votes, Jeff, Charles, George and Kyle. You men step forward, let me see who you are.” The four men stepped forward almost shyly, yet with evident pride in having been chosen. Each told Adrian his name.

  Adrian announced, “Now Captains, it’s time to choose the men for your group, here’s how you do it. I’ll choose the men and send them to you. If I send you someone that you have personal problems with, problems that you believe will interfere with performing your duties, send him back to me. But only do so if you are sure you and he can’t work together. Same goes for you men, when I send you to your Captain. If you have a problem with that Captain, let me know. We don’t have time to do this any other way, so make sure it’s a real problem that will really interfere, not some petty squabble.”

  Adrian then assigned the men to the four Captains. He chose by age and fitness level, equalizing the teams. There were no kickbacks from either end. “Good. OK, men, gather round.” The men seated themselves in a semi-circle in front of Adrian. He was pleased to see that they naturally separated into their four groups. “Captains, think about the men assigned to you and choose a lieutenant from your group. Your lieutenant will act in your absence, carry out assigned missions, and take your place if you are disabled or killed. Choose as well as you can.

  We have two missions. First, we rescue the hostages. Second, we go to war. Do not confuse the two in your minds. Our first mission is to get the hostages out of there and safely back home. Your assignments will require strict mission discipline. If, in the process of freeing the hostages, you see an opportunity to kill enemies, don’t do it unless it will help us in the rescue operation. Do not stray from the mission. It is one of the worst mistakes you can make. It is one of the easiest mistakes to make. Amateurs make that mistake. The mission objective is the one and only thing you are to achieve. Nothing else matters. Nothing else counts. Anything else is a distraction and lessens the chances of achieving the objective. I cannot stress this enough—do you understand?”

  He was met with vague head nodding and a couple of thumbs up. Adrian jumped to his feet and, putting on his best drill sergeant imitation, screamed at the men, “I said do you understand! Don’t give me a goofy fucking nod or stupid thumbs up! You yell your answer! Now—DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

  The men all jumped to their feet yelling, “Yes Sir!”

  Adrian said loudly, “You sound like you’re not sure. Let me repeat. The mission objective is everything. Only a stupid idiot wandering around with his head up his ass forgets what the objective is and does something else, and if that happens, the mission will FAIL! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

  “YES SIR!” they all shouted, making the forest ring.

  Adrian shouted back, “Do you think you can all say it at the same time? Do you?

  “YES SIR!” they all shouted, closer to being in unison.

  “Once more, damnit—you’re supposed to be a fighting unit. At least sound like one. All together now. The mission objective is the only thing you need to concern yourself with. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

  “YES SIR!” they shouted in unison this time.

  “Very good. Captains, get your men together. We have several miles to cover. Everyone in single-file. Maintain ten feet distance between each man. We’re going to do some cover drills along the way. At random times I’ll shout or signal ‘cover’ and I want every man to hit the dirt on opposite sides of the trail, flat on their bellies, behind any cover available, rifles pointing out. This has to become an automatic response. I’ll also use the following hand signals. I want you to get used to them; obedience has to be automatic and instant.”

  Adrian showed them four hand signals. One for stop, one for stop and cover, one for silence, and one for follow. “We only have a few hours to learn what normally takes months. Pay close attention; don’t let your minds wander. OK, follow me, single-file, ten-foot intervals, absolutely no talking.”

  With that, he moved into the woods. As soon as the men were strung out behind him he hit them with the stop and cover signal. There was a slow ragged response. Adrian strode up and down the line, showing each man how he should be positioned; making sure each man’s rifle was pointed in the correct direction. He used positive encouragement. Explained it all again individually. Then as soon as they were moving and strung out he did it again. And again. And again. But now, each Captain was able to correct his own men. It took two hours to cover a half mile, but by the end of it the men were reacting to his signals like old professionals. It was a good enough start.

  Adrian led the men towards the mining camp. When they were within a quarter-mile he gathered the men together. The way they gathered in their respective units was encouraging. “I’m going to take the four Captains with me from here. We are going to infiltrate the edge of the camp so that they can see where the buildings are, where the sentries are posted, and where the hostages are being held. I can’t take all of you—it would be too risky. When we come back I’ll draw a map and explain the operation. While we are gone, Lieutenants, check your men’s weapons and ammunition. Make sure all weapons are ready and loaded. Have extra ammunition handy, but make sure it’s secured and won’t fall out when running or taking cover. Have every man jump up and down and listen for any jangling sounds, then fi
nd a way to silence it. Maintain absolute silence. No unnecessary talking, no walking around. Stay low and stay quiet. Wolfgang has patrols out, so don’t draw their attention or it’ll blow the mission. Stow all of your gear here except for weapons.”

  Adrian led the four men to a good vantage point at the edge of the forest. He explained about the roving patrol, where they would be, and how to avoid them. They crawled into position and Adrian whispered as he pointed out the various buildings and terrain features. The hostages were in the picnic building, cooking dinner. It would be dark in a few hours. They would have to move fast if they were going to pull off this operation today. Waiting for tomorrow wasn’t an option; Wolfgang could lose his patience at any time.

  As they watched, Wolfgang came out of his cabin, strode up to the hostages, and began yelling at them. He groped one of the younger women and viciously backhanded one of the men that tried to interfere, knocking him unconscious. It was plain that at least one of the women would be raped that night. One of Adrian’s Captains stiffened and acted as though he might jump up and rush down to the scene. He didn’t, but it was obvious that he was closely related in some way to the woman or the man. Adrian didn’t ask. In a village that small he assumed that all of his men were closely related to one or more of the hostages. Motivating his men wasn’t an issue. Not knowing their capabilities, and their inexperience fighting, especially the fact that they had never fought together—those were the issues. He moved back and the Captains moved back with him.

  “I’m going to kill the roving guards,” Adrian said. “You four go back and tell the men to get ready. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Alone, General Hunter?” Kyle asked. “You’re going to kill four men by yourself, and it’s only going to take you a few minutes? “

  The way Kyle asked made Adrian realize that what to him was a simple chore was an impossibly extraordinary feat to these men. He also noticed that he had been promoted to General. His men back at Fort Brazos would laugh their asses off at that.