The Revolution Begins (Molon Labe) (2 page)

We started with entitlement programs that generously met the needs of individuals unable to provide enough for themselves.  This slowly but surely created a portion of the population that became unwilling to provide for themselves and a population that learned new tactics to get more and more government assistance. 

We allowed our politicians (the ones who speak on our behalf) to start legislating from their own personal feeling rather than from the consensus of the people they represented.  We allowed a two party system to bastardize the founder’s intent for a free people. Our media quickly took sides with a party that preached more and more liberal ideology. Freedom of speech allowed them to stop reporting the news as it was and to start reporting what they wanted us to take from the news.

Large portions of ou
r population were unaware that congress and our president had signed treaties with the United Nations that (on paper) made us subject to UN policies (such as disarming civilian populations). The people that spoke out against it were decreed conspiracy theorists and scoffed at while the politicians moved slowly forward with their socialist agendas. 

Policies were being created on the bas
is of “common sense legislation “and not constitutionality.  It all came to a head with a president that issued more executive orders bypassing the system of checks and balances provided for by the Constitution, than all of the other presidents combined. 

After a tragic series of shootings by mentally u
nstable individuals, the most liberal (and socialist leaning) president in our history flatly told the country and the world that he would take unilateral action to end gun violence and issued more than twenty executive orders banning nearly every modern firearm. He had taken a dangerous and irreversible step past the line in the sand.  He had infringed upon our constitutional right to bear arms.  Now (and especially with his inclusion of foreign forces) the true purpose of the 2
nd
Amendment was becoming painfully real for the president and the citizens of the United States. 

There was word filtering in from the Virgi
nia and Maryland Militias that the president was a virtual hostage in the White House with daily pot shots striking the building.  Congress was no better off with most of its members not daring to enter the premises on Capitol Hill. It would only be a matter of time before a list (not unlike the Iraqi war playing card decks) would be generated and names would be checked off and scratched out.  Our politicians had much to be frightened of. They had failed us, and if we were ever to start over, a completely new set of representatives would fill every seat. 

Yes, these patriots were angry and scared.  They weren’t scared of the enemy as much as the idea that their way of life and liberty could be taken away.  While there were no George Washington’s or Thomas Jefferson’s among us, we were all dedicated to the idea of fighting to return our Constitution to its rightful place.
We would see this through, or die trying.

Chapter 4

"The tank, the B-52, the fighter-bomber, the state-controlled police and military are the weapons of dictatorship. The rifle is the weapon of democracy. If guns are outlawed, only the government will have guns. Only the police, the secret police, the military. The hired servants of our rulers. Only the government - and a few outlaws. I intend to be among the outlaws." (Edward Abbey, "The Right to Arms," Abbey's Road [New York, 1979])

While being no George Washington, Captain John Gualtner was a true patriot.  He was a former Navy Seal with a background in counter terrorism and an expert in guerilla tactics.  He had spent fifteen years in the Teams prior to succumbing to a career ending injury while performing a HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) jump. He was still more than capable, but the military powers-that-be ruled him medically non deployable due to his injury. He chose to leave the service rather than to man a desk. 

He spent several years teaching at a tactical training academy while developing an unhealthy taste for liquor.
He kept his taste for alcohol until he hit rock bottom and then decided to turn around and make his life right.  In typical SEAL fashion, he fought back and after 9/11 he took a contract position teaching and training federal operators in counter terrorism tactics.  Many of us with a special operations background knew him well and were proud to serve with and under him. We’d march to the gates of hell with him. He was, and is that good.

The 1
st
West Virginia Militia group had its ranks swollen by soldiers and police almost immediately. West Virginia is home to the 19
th
Special Forces Group. To a man, they all joined our ranks. We reaped the benefits of this immediately. We were Airmans in guerilla warfare with new recruits to teach.  I had been an Infantryman in a Long Range Surveillance Unit and in my civilian life a SWAT officer and sniper.  Most recently I was working as a counter terrorism agent. 

The governmen
t took measures to shut down communications on a national level by causing a social media blackout.  They hit the kill switch for the internet and mobile phone service.  No cell phones, no email, no text. 

My job with the military involved communications and I was quite happy to see the new (to us) military radios
that military units brought with them...  We along with many other state militias had the ability to communicate securely.  The ability to communicate is a key battle asset for both planning and execution. We now had this asset.

What we needed
most was a secure base for operations.  We found that base in one of West Virginia’s natural resource assets; coal mines.  West Virginia is laced with underground chambers that run for miles and miles. With proper ventilation and a strict adherence to fire safety, the coal mines (which had multiple entry and exit points) were perfect for our operations.

Captain John quickly assigned me to
lead a sniper platoon. There were fifty of us. Thirty were trained military or law enforcement snipers with proper sniper gear.  Twenty were volunteers who had either qualified as designated marksmen in the military, or had been deemed as good shots by the rest of us. They carried an assortment of hunting rifles with quality optics. We used the two man sniper/spotter method popular in the military.  I was lucky. I had a veteran SWAT sniper with me.  He was and is my best friend and we have always worked well together.  We learned from each other.  Neil was my right hand.  Together we were responsible for planning the sniper operations for our platoon. 

Our first order of business was to find and destroy any enemy strong holds in our area. 
Just five miles from our base of operations (too close I thought) the UN had set up an operating base that they had expected to use as a collection point for confiscated firearms.  They were using an abandoned Boy Scout camp with gated entry points.

We
had observers posted and reporting intelligence on the camp since the UN had arrived.  The latest reports came after a local motorcycle gang tried to storm in and assault the compound.  The results were not pretty.  The UN troops were on guard already with itchy trigger fingers after their introduction to West Virginia justice in town.  Thirty five bikers were slaughtered at the gates by automatic machine gun fire mounted on troop carriers. The bikers returned fire sporadically until they were all wiped out.  UN troops pushed the bodies and bikes to the side of the road until body collection could be conducted. 

This camp would have to be addressed.  It was too close and although the bikers had practically asked to be wiped out, their intentions had been patriotic.  They would
be avenged.  We felt despite the heavy weapons used by the enemy, the advantage would be ours...  We knew the terrain and the enemy had chosen a spot that gave us cover and concealment. 

We would insert our sniper teams around the compound and
begin taking out leadership, sentries, and communications.  This would give the assaulting element time to breach the camp and eliminate all resistance.  We were not butchers, but taking prisoners was not on our to-do list.

It’s
strange to look at our situation.  I never imagined myself fighting an enemy on my own home soil. I have (make that had) a good paying job. My wife and children are at home. My wife clearly does not support my patriotic notions. It’s not that she isn’t patriotic; she just doesn’t like the idea of firearms.  In her heart she knew which direction I would have to go if the government went against the people. Still, she doesn’t like it.  She has a job and still goes to work.  I’m not sure what will happen with our bills.  Can the banks foreclose on our home? Are they operating like that?  Will my electricity be shut off? Will my family be safe in this war? These questions all run around in the back of my mind.  This is new to all of us.  When we are fighting for our government, they pay us and protect our family from financial problems.  This is different. We are fighting against them.  Will they enact legislation to freeze our funds just to hurt our families?  The sick bastards probably will.  Still, freedom is a higher calling. 

I’m
happy to know that like many of us, I prepared long ago for any catastrophe.  I have a year’s supply of food at my home and a bug-out location well stocked for my family, should disaster arise.  I believe they will be fine.  I pray that they will. 

Neil is a loner.  He has
an ex-wife and daughter who he sees a few times a month.  He had been preparing for this fight longer than me.  He is a veteran of SWAT and both the Army and Air Force.  He has seen combat tours on more than one occasion and while he would prefer peace, he excels at violence and tactics.  He is a great guy to have around in times like these.

Due to Neil’s
preparations for this revolution, we were uniquely qualified to take position as over watch on the front gates.  Neil had several .50 cal. rifles.  On this mission we would be using two of them. We loaded up the armor piercing ammo and waited for orders to proceed.

Chapter 5

"And what country can preserve its liberties, if its rulers are not warned from time to time that this people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms....The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants"

(Thomas Jefferson in a letter to William S. Smith in 1787. Taken from Jefferson, On Democracy 20, S. Padover ed., 1939)

Lying on a snow covered ground, looking at a familiar sight, I remembered years back when as a
Boy Scout, I spent a week learning the basics of archery and map reading.  Things looked different right now.  They usually do when crosshairs are part of the picture.  The ground near the guarded entrance was still covered with pink spots where the ill-fated attempt by the local motorcycle gang had unfolded.  Expensive Harley Davidsons and custom bikes lay in bullet riddled pieces in the far ditch.

Security had tightened up at the entrance as I observed two APC’s
(Armored Personnel Carriers) with what appeared to be .50 cal. machine guns mounted atop.  The Blue Beanie clad troops had their heads on a swivel seeming to know something was out there. I could see twenty soldiers roving about lightly maneuvering and waiting for orders.  We would stay in place until 0230 and begin our strike when they were the least alert.  Complacency would set in and their hyper-vigilance would wane.

Along the rear of the compound our forces were slowly gathering and waiting.  Our scouts had warned us that the UN had thought enough to place mines around their perimeter and exact locations were relayed so we could avoid the nasty contraptions.
Given enough time, we would find the mines and disarm them. Boy Scouts would use this camp again someday.

At 0230 the guard had lightened and the roving patrols to the front of the compound numbered only 8.
We still had the APC’s to deal with, but even their focus was dwindling. We had been watching while NVG (Night Vision Goggles) clad gunners were taking turns rubbing their eyes.  To the front we had seven sniper teams.  Each team was equipped with suppressed .5.56 AR-15’s firing subsonic ammo for the initial assault.  Our plan was to wipe out the roving sentries and then open up with the big 50’s on the APC’s.  The hope was that with the initial troops down, we could draw most of the camp’s force forward and leave their rear unprepared for the main assault. 

Two soldiers were sent in under the cover of darkness to infiltrate the camp and
disrupt (destroy) communications.  Their signal of completion would be our green light to engage.

Mitch and Jason were the infiltration team.  Both were experienced operators in the Army Special Forces.  This was not their first rodeo.  They crept past the perimeter and moved from building to building until they came to a communications rig which appeared to be using both
microwave and satellite radios.  No phone lines were ever installed at the camp, so neutralizing the equipment in the rig would be the only task. To do this, it was decided that the lines leading to the antennas would be severed. 

Mitch identified the lines to be cut while Jason provided security.
Jason never heard the round that impacted his right side and severed his aorta. He simply fell.  Mitch heard only the clatter of Jason falling to the ground and as he ducked low, he narrowly missed being hit by a silenced round. He got out a simple message in the clear before being hit multiple times, “Ambush, ambush, ambush.”