The Canadian Civil War: Volume 5 - Carbines and Calumets

by William Wresch

  Chapter 11 –

  The battle for Biloxi

  When I went down to breakfast the next morning, I had my eyes on the front entrance, wondering if there would be another group of people waiting for me. Instead, I saw the oddest thing - two people running past on the street. These were not people jogging for exercise (something almost no one does in New Orleans), these were men racing somewhere. By the time I had crossed the floor to the dining area, I had seen three other men and one woman run by. A waiter met me and asked if I wished to be seated by the television they had wheeled into the room, or in a quieter area. This is a small restaurant, with barely a dozen tables. The six closest to the television were occupied by silent men. The six tables away from the television were empty. I decided maybe I should sit by the TV too.

  What did I see? A fire. The National Resource Building was on fire. Six stories tall, it was just seven or eight blocks away, which explained the people running down the street to see it. A voice in the background explained the fire had started around dawn, and it was assumed the building was empty. "Reliable sources" had informed the media that the few people in the building at dawn had been evacuated by an unnamed group before the fire was set. The group might have been unidentified, but the Heritage Party flag was everywhere in the street. Gee, who might have set the fire?

  The last time these crazies had wanted to draw attention to themselves, they had blown up a cathedral. Was it too much work to blow up an office building? But as the television coverage continued, I could see the mad reasoning at work. An explosion was quick. Ten or fifteen minutes at the most, and it was over. This fire was going to draw attention for hours. Whatever sick bastard was doing their media work was earning his pay that day. They also got to show that while fire trucks had driven to the vicinity, they were making no real effort at putting out the fire. Clearly they were complicit in the arson. Take that, Green Bay, fire fighters will break their professional oaths, if it means you lose a building down here. Wow.

  And it got worse. Whoever was choreographing this day had a full game plan. The news team broke into the fire coverage to alert viewers to a battle on an army base outside Biloxi. The Canadians have always had a set of military bases east of Biloxi. They have a naval base in Mobile Bay, and several army posts nearby. Needless to say, they are there to protect their southern and eastern flanks from us. According to the TV, sometime during the night, some officers at one of the army posts – Camp Biloxi - decided they should be serving Louisiana, and not Canada. But the vote had not been unanimous. The result was a gun battle that started small, but grew as more and more men chose sides. By dawn smoke was rising from burning buildings all over the post. Television cameras shooting from outside the base showed columns of smoke rising from multiple locations. They were also picking up small arms fire. So far no heavy weapons had been used. Most of the camp was in control of forces loyal to Louisiana, and it was expected complete control would be established by the end of the day.

  What of the other bases? Reporters announced mass desertions of southern troops. They were shown leaving their bases, walking proudly and often in complete units. They were all still wearing their uniforms, but now they had blue arm bands with white crosses. They were declaring themselves for the Louisiana National Army. Oh wait, here's some luck, one of them wants to step out of line and talk to reporters. He just happens to be good looking, in an immaculate uniform, and he talks like he has been given speeches all his life. Who was stage managing this event? He deserved a Tony. No Broadway show ever had this much drama so well paced.

  While the immaculate sergeant explained their motives, the tyranny of the north, the "war" on their culture and religion, I first looked for cue cards but then found something more interesting -- the arm bands. His was perfect. It was not hand made or gathered up at the last minute from blue material. The cross was embroidered - and perfect. His arm band fit exactly. I looked at the rest of the marching freedom fighters and saw that each of them had the same arm band, and each of them was perfect. This event had been planned for weeks at least. The French might not be able to build a reliable car, but it was clear they could put on a great play when they wanted to. I kept my mouth shut, but mentally I was shouting at the screen - author, author.

  I was pretty sure I knew how the play ended, and I didn't need to see the second act, so I moved to a table farther from the TV and ordered breakfast. The staff might have been distracted by the events of the day, but they still did their jobs, and I had a great breakfast in just a few minutes. Meanwhile, I got out my phone and dealt with the calls that had been piling up.

  The first was Elise, of course. She knew I was safe in the hotel (you gotta love gps), and she hoped I would stay there until things settled down. The ministry was working on a plan to get people out of town to somewhere safe. I thanked her for her concern, and told her I thought I could still make my own way out in a day or two. That pretty well wrapped up our conversation. I could hear people in the background. I wondered if she had been home at all the last couple days. My guess was she wouldn't be out of the office for days to come. Her country was at war.

  My next call was from Catherine. It started with the usual, are you safe, how are you doing, blah, blah, blah, and then she got to the real message. They were making progress on the Fosters. First, I didn't have to worry about a libel charge since there was plenty of evidence in plenty of places putting Foster oil rigs in the Gulf. The facts could be established before a panel of chimpanzees. But, she said, the fact that they hid their tracks so badly might indicate a bigger problem. They seemed to think they had nothing to fear from discovery. Yes, they had sabotaged some boats and tried to kill me, but that was pretty small stuff for the Fosters. They had lots more muscle at their disposal and hadn't used it. So, they didn't think they needed to use it. Why would that be? Give that some thought, kid brother. There was some serious ugliness going on, probably much more than we could see. I thanked Catherine. She really was the smart one in the family. I hoped she took the business over when dad retired. My brothers didn't have half her brains.

  My clown call for the morning came from the American consulate. It was a robocall telling all U.S. citizens that there was an event underway in Louisiana, and we should be prepared to leave. We should also be assured our government would do all it could to assist in our departure. What that assistance might be was never stated. Forty-five seconds after it began, the message was over, but if I pressed "2" I could hear it again. My safety now assured, I finished breakfast and went back to my room.

  Sitting in my room with my phone and computer, I could smell the smoke from the fire. I assumed the fire department would make sure the fire didn't spread to more "desirable" buildings. This one would probably last all day, a blazing statement about how people felt about their national government. I wondered if they would feel the same way when they realized their pension checks might be a little late this month. Did the government even have an obligation to pay pensions to people who now felt they lived in a different country?

  What else was going up in that building? I had never gone into it, but I was vaguely aware it had lots of offices and a couple courtrooms. Were court records going up in smoke? Property records? All that sort of thing was now on computers and backed up some place, right? Wasn't it? If there was some information lost, who might benefit? It occurred to me the fire might be more than just a visual statement of protest. There were some who might have an interest in record destruction. I bet Elise and her people had already come to the same conclusion and were working on that angle.

  For me, the record I wanted to find was the diary of Joseph Thiere. I gave the historical society web site one more try, and then I called the provincial library. They were open. I was surprised. I could think of lots of reasons why every office in town would be closed. I asked for the archives area, and Margaret answered.

  "
Will you be coming to the library today?" she asked.

  "I probably should stay off the streets until we know more about who is burning buildings and what buildings they plan to light up next."

  "They shouldn't be doing this. There is no need."

  "There are lots of people in your party, Margaret. Some of them might have special needs."

  "Yes, it is my party. I will not deny it. I want my homeland to be free."

  "That's why I am calling. I cannot find Joseph Thiere's diaries on the Historical Society web site. Is there another set of files you could upload to me?"

  "The town is on fire, and soldiers are shooting each other, and you want to read history?"

  "In 1754 Louisiana knew Washington had invaded French territory. The colony had lots of choices. In the end, they decided to support the colony of New France. Why? It seems to me that decision is more important today than any other day. What were they thinking? Why did they side with Canada and not with the British colonies? Don't you want to know the answer too?"

  "Things change over two and a half centuries."

  "Yes, they do, and maybe the reasoning from 1754 is no longer relevant. But maybe it is. What do you say, history major. Should we take a look?"

  "All right. I will see what we have down here from that period. Whatever has been digitized I will email to you."

  "Thank you."

  "Shawn? Be very careful."

  "I will, and I appreciate your concern." I hung up. I had no idea what Margaret could send me or how long it would take.

  What to do in the meantime? I turned on my television. Not much had changed. The National Resource building was still in flames. Soldiers were still leaving bases east of Biloxi. There seemed to be thousands of them. Was that just careful photography, or were so many soldiers really leaving their units? And where were they going? The TV showed them leaving, but there were no shots of them arriving anywhere. Were they headed to Camp Biloxi to join the fighting there? Were they going to some other camp? It was almost nightfall before their destination became clear.