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Kyle paused for a few seconds before he replied, “Top, I can’t say I disagree with the decision to send them along-- after all, Eric and his group were going to head out either way.  They stopped by more as a courtesy to us than anything, after all.

“This mixed force for the guard’s families is more than a little weird, though.” Kyle said.  “We’ve never done anything like this before and frankly, I think there’s a reason for that; everybody’s mind is in a dozen places right now. Having your family around does different things to the guys.  I mean, I keep catching them looking in the mirrors in the trucks, or over their shoulders while they’re unloading stuff.”

“And I swear, the dogs are driving me nuts.  I love ‘em, I swear I do, but they are getting in the way and they don’t all love each other the way we do.”

“You’re a smart guy, I’m sure you’ll think of something.  I know you only have a squad with you but I want someone monitoring the radio at all times.  If it means things take longer so be it.  Call in once an hour.”

“Roger, I’ll rotate everyone through.  Promised Land, clear.”

“Oh wonderful--this is what I get for not going with ‘Walkabout’?  Advance Area ‘Promised Land’?  Fine, Pharaoh out.” Mallory laughed as she signed off.

“Oops.  That’s gonna bite me in the butt, I can feel it already,” Kyle muttered to himself as he took off his headphones and stepped out of the communications tent.

“Wilson, you’re in charge of the radio rotation.  Her eminence, Pharaoh First Sergeant Jensen the First, has decreed that the magic box will be manned at all times and to report in hourly,” Ramirez told Sergeant Wilson.

“I understood the part about the radio and the First Sergeant, and that’s good enough for me.  Why do you get her going like that by the way?  You two siblings or secretly married or something?” Sergeant Wilson prodded.

“What can I say…”

Both Wilson and Ramirez finished the last half of the sentence together, “there’s a reason you’re/I’m still a Staff Sergeant.”  Laughing, Ramirez trotted off to make sure the rest of the squad was operating as the well-oiled machine he knew it was.

Shaking his head, Sergeant Mark Wilson ducked into the communications tent and sighed.  “Thank goodness we have Sergeants like him and Top.”  He got briefed, relieved the Specialist who still had his headphones on, settled down in the chair, and proceeded to be bored for the next fifty-eight minutes until it was time to report in.

Chapter Seventeen

With only minimal use of the heavy equipment and chainsaws, they cleared enough area for all the vehicles in the advance expedition, plus room for a few more by 10:00 am.  To do so, however, they had had to cut down seven very large trees and more were going to have to come down.  Some of these trees were an absolute tragedy to waste, so Ramirez sought out Eric and Joel.

“Before I run something up the flagpole and see who salutes, I wanted to run it by you guys first.  We’re going to be cutting down a lot of trees over the next couple of weeks, and some of it looks to be prime timber.  I hate to waste it by chopping it up for firewood or letting it rot.  I’m thinking of suggesting some more permanent structures to higher,--sorry, First Sergeant Jensen.”

“Any of the other squads have any Engineers?” Eric asked.

“Yeah, we have three Specialists who own an engineering firm in 5
^th
Platoon, 1
^st
Engineering Squad.  That’s who I was going to suggest we have come out to supplement us so it got done right.  Problem is I know nothing about wood.  It looks like good wood, but frankly I don’t know if we could even use something right after we cut it down anyway.”

“Well,” Joel interjected, “I can help a little bit there.  It isn’t what I do but it’s been an on again off again hobby of mine for years.  Plus, I love the New Yankee Workshop.  Norm Abrahms is the man!  Anyway, you can use newly-felled wood for some things but it’s going to shrink and crack as it dries, and some of it will warp.  Some wood will obviously be better than others and it depends entirely on what you want to do with the wood.”

“If you’re planning on planking the wood, shrinkage and warping will be the biggest problem you face.  If you want to build log cabin style buildings, shrinkage and cracking would be the big thing.  Note that shrinkage will be an issue no matter what.  Does the Armory have any milling equipment?”

“None that I know of.  Shoot.  Maybe this won’t work.  I just hate to clear cut acres of woods and not do something worthwhile with the lumber if at all possible.  It didn’t even occur to me until we were cutting it all down.”

“Don’t throw in the towel just yet there Kyle.  Doesn’t the U.S. Military have the ability to requisition supplies in a time of crisis?  We passed how many ‘Big Box’ hardware stores on the way here this morning?  For that matter there’s a Northern Tool & Equipment in Madison and I know they sell portable sawmills.  You can even get ones that clamp on to a chainsaw for the rough cuts.”

“Joel, I’m starting to like you a whole awful lot.” Kyle was smiling from ear to ear.  “If you’ll excuse me then, I believe I’ve got a call to make.”

“Does he ever stop?” Joel asked.

“Stop what?” Eric replied, grinning.

“Well, I guess that actually answers my question, dunnit?”

“Let’s get back to helping the ladies get the families situated.  You know, having either wooden floors under the tents or even half walls would be really nice come the first rain.  I was so busy thinking ‘get out of Dodge just in case’ that I didn’t think everything through…you know?” Joel was looking up, trying to divine the weather for the next week from the three degrees of sky he could see.

Less than ten minutes later, Kyle tracked them down again to let Joel know he was going shopping.  “Looks like you drew the short straw for finding one or more sawmills.  Actually, there was only one straw and you were the only one doing the drawing.  It felt kinda rigged if you ask me.”

“Nice.  They are usually sorta heavy though, I’ll probably need someone to drive one of these monstrosities,” Joel inclined his head towards their impromptu parking lot.

“Yup.  You’ll be going with KB--that’d be Sergeant Kevin Bowersock.  As soon as the 5-ton is empty, the two of you will head up to Madison.  Your point about the portable sawmill was well taken.  Top said to get as many as you could, literally.  She figured they would have at least one of the big band saw varieties and hoped for several of the chainsaw clamp-on type.  Top likes New Yankee Workshop, too.”

They were walking away from the main group, where Kyle had found Joel and Eric.  “He’ll be authorized to sign the requisition forms which I’ll have ready by the time you take off.  There’s actually a list of things to get since you’re  going.  No reason to waste a trip; and it’s a big truck.”  At this point Ramirez--because Joel couldn’t think of him as Kyle for some reason--looked almost uncomfortable.

“Mr. Taylor, how comfortable are you with handguns?” Ah, that’s why, Joel thought to himself.

“Very.  You apparently haven’t looked in the Suburban.  I’ve been around all kinds of firearms all my life.  I’m as comfortable as can be, I would suspect.  What handgun specifically are you asking about?  Semi-automatic or revolver?  Model 1911, like what you’re wearing?”

“Yes sir, exactly like what I’m wearing as a matter of fact.  How familiar are you with that?”

“Come with me if you would, and I can show you.”  Joel motioned to Kyle--as he felt like Kyle once again--to follow him to the Suburban.

He opened up the back and pulled out a locked case.  From inside he pulled out another, smaller, locked case.  From inside of that he pulled out his grandfather’s Colt .45 Model 1911-A1 Semi-Automatic Government Issue sidearm.  This one had been issued to his grandfather upon entering the European theatre during WWII and was documented as having been destroyed upon his exit of same.

As a matter of fact, his grandfather had been instructed to throw it onto the ground in front of a steamroller to become part of the base of a road on his way out of Germany.  Like all good soldiers, he had responded with something along the lines of “Sir, yes sir!” or “Roger, out!” or some such, and proceeded to not only ignore the patently absurd order, but to bend down and pick up another one of the perfectly good side arms that had already been discarded.

This particular .45 was all original, including the barrel and recoil spring.  It was Joel’s pride and joy.  It was the first firearm he’d ever owned or fired, having literally knocked him on his butt at the age of eight, and he loved to tell the story behind it.  He was sure he would get the chance to tell Kyle at some point but instead he proved how comfortable he was by ejecting the magazine, clearing the chamber, locking the slide back, ensuring it was safe, and handing it to Kyle.

For his part, Kyle was impressed with how well Joel handled the weapon.  That alone didn’t necessarily mean anything but it certainly meant that it wasn’t the first time Joel had picked it up.  Then when Joel handed it to Kyle, he was forced to take note of the GI stamp on it.  Upon closer inspection, he noticed the serial number.  He set Joel’s .45 down on the tailgate, removed his own--which also happened to be a Colt, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered--and proceeded to clear his own weapon and check his own serial number.

“Joel, how old is this?”

“Circa WWII.  Actually, it was manufactured in 1936.  It’s an actual Colt too, not a Springfield or a Singer.”

“How many rounds have you put through it?” Kyle asked as he put his own sidearm away.

“Me, personally?  I’ve put probably 5,000 through it, myself.  I should probably replace the barrel but I just can’t bring myself to do it.  It’s original.”

“Oooookaaaay.  I guess I was worried about nothing then.  I’ll just be getting you a holster.”  Kyle shook his head.  “Here I was all concerned about sending you out there, yes it’s just day three, blah blah blah, but I was still concerned.  If you’ve put that many rounds through it I assume you have a decent fifteen-meter score?”

“Yeah, seven rounds only leaves four holes in the paper and you can’t see the X anymore.”

“I swear I worry about the dumbest things.  There’s really no good reason other than continuity but you’re wearing BDUs so let’s keep the uniform complete.  Let me get you that holster.”  Kyle returned his own weapon to his holster and trotted off to where some of the supplies were being sorted.

“Joel, that is probably the closest I have ever seen Kyle come to picking his jaw up off the floor.  The whole silent treatment, no story behind it like you did with me, the whole thing.  Very nicely done, man--way cool.  He will want to know the story now too, by the way.  He’ll appreciate it.  His grandfather was over there as well, so it means a lot to hear about it from other guys.” 

…

It was
almost another hour before the 5-ton truck was done being unloaded, but true to his word, as soon as it was finished Joel and KB were on their way.  Thirty seconds into the ride Joel had determined that the 5-ton was not designed to be driven empty for long periods of time over rough terrain.

“I can’t imagine being in the back right now,” Joel commented.

“I don’t have to imagine and I am very glad to have this incredibly uncomfortable canvas seat.  Those teak slats suck.  So, how’d you get drafted for this?  Top rig the straw draw?” KB asked.

“Sounds like she has a reputation for doing that.  Yeah, I think that’s what happened.  I mentioned that I was pretty sure I knew where we could find a portable sawmill and I was a fan of the New Yankee Workshop.  I think that sealed my fate.”

“Oh yeah, you were doomed as soon as you opened your mouth.  I don’t mean that in a bad way, don’t get me wrong.  I think the world of Top.  Lucky to have her.  Any Platoon Sergeant or higher that doesn’t rig the outcome their way isn’t worth their salt either.”

“Nope, Top, she’s #1.  What she says goes.  Sure we’ve got the LT and the Cap’n, usually, but everything gets filtered through the First Sergeant and from there to the Platoon Sergeants and on down.  If it got to us, it came through her and if it came through her it was worth making its way down.  She won’t let it through unless it needs to get through, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think I do.  It actually makes a lot of sense.  What I wouldn’t have given to have a boss like that most of my career,” Joel mused.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of active stupid that works its way around Top.  I just meant the important stuff.  And in my day job…don’t get me started.”

They were just turning onto the highway, and Joel was looking forward to a flat surface to drive on.  “So, what else do they want us to pick up besides the portable sawmills?”

“Tools mostly, and concrete if they’ve got it, which I sure hope they will.  I’m authorized to requisition whatever I feel is in the best interest of the U.S. Army and the U.S. Government and I’ve got a whole passel of forms I can leave with anyone who might be there.  Assuming the lights eventually come back on--and I think they will--they’ll even get paid for whatever we take, with interest.

…

When Joel and Kevin pulled into the parking lot they realized that they might actually have to wait in line.  The parking lot was by no means crowded, but it wasn’t deserted either.  It was amazing how many stores were--if not exactly open as usual--at least populated and doing business of a sort.

It took Kevin almost five minutes to find an employee, although nobody in any form of management had shown up that day, apparently, and it was already nearing closing time.  He explained three times, using smaller and smaller words each time, what he needed and would be doing.  Finally, after it was made clear that whatever Sergeant Bowersock needed, Sergeant Bowersock was taking, in the name of the U.S. Army--and not just because some dude in fatigues wanted to take some stuff--things started to roll.

“I didn’t want to have to kill him and put his dead body out front as a warning to others, I swear I didn’t, but man it was a close thing there near the end!” Kevin shook his head as he neared the truck so they could move it around back and load their newly acquired items with the forklift.