Approx
5,147 words
A retired sheriff runs afoul of an outlaw he once put behind
bars.
The two guards escorting Lomack
cuffed him roughly behind the ears and one administered a viscous blow to the
kidneys as they pushed him into the tent, sending him sprawling to the dirt
floor. From behind his desk, the captain
glanced at the man on the ground.
“Well, if it isn’t Sheriff John
Lomack. Now ain’t this a hoot?”
Lomack shook his head to clear
away the haze. He remembered that
voice. “George Strang, fancy meeting you
here. Does your gang of ruffians treat
all prisoners this way?”
“Definitely not, sheriff, only
those who might be a spy for the other side.”
“I suppose that’s why you had me
brought here,” John asked.
“Not hardly, sheriff…”
“It’s mister, to you Strang. I retired three years ago.”
“No fooling? Who’d have thought that? Did the greenies get unhappy with your job
performance?”
“Let’s say I got unhappy with
their incentive program, Strang. I
served my five year indenture, the same as any immigrant does….”
“The same as any volunteer immigrant,” Strang corrected
him. “Not all of us had the luxury of
volunteering. Convict transportees get
an eight year sentence.” It was true,
dozens of nations on Earth had been happy to disgorge convicts from their over
crowded prisons, as fast as CONDEL could select them. The
only limitation was the number of starships available to make the twenty-two
year round trip to Tau Ceti at a gnats whisker below light speed. Because of the time dilation effect predicted
by Einstein, the actual time in space seemed only eighteen months, thirty-six
months for the round trip, except convicts did not return. Only the crew and the precious cargo of
radioactive fuel made its way back to a world starved for energy.
“Okay, so not everyone is treated
equal. I won’t argue with you. When Consolidated Developers offered 40
hectares to volunteer immigrants, I signed up.
We put down here on Botany Bay and I was assigned to the CONDEL security
forces. By the time I got my freedom
papers, I shipped over for another five years because CONDEL was offering 400
hectares to anyone already in the colony.”
“And they promoted you to sheriff
and that’s why you nabbed me when I tried to escape. The governor added two more years to my
indenture, Lomack. I really ought to get
even with you, ya know?”
“Just doing my job, Strang.”
“Yeah, at least you were fair
about it, not shooting me and dumping me in the woods as some greenie-bullies
might have, then reporting I had tried to evade capture.”
“Which, you did!”
“Well now, that’s sort of my job,
won’t you agree? So what brings you into
the deep dark woods with the rest of us runners? Are you spying for CONDEL?”
“No way! I proved up my claim and had a nice little
farm going until three months ago. Then
the greenies came in and arrested me on trumped up charges I had been aiding
runners. They took my farm and sentenced
me to ten years at the uranium mines in Purgatory. It’s a mighty long cross-country trek to
Purgatory and I managed to escape.”
“And you came here looking to
join up with the rest of us rebels?”
“What else could I do,
Strang? I’ve been convicted and the
government has taken my property. The
only way I can ever hope to be free and get it back is if you and your gang
succeed in overthrowing the governor and establishing self-rule.”
“I hope you’ll get out of the
habit as thinking of my men and me as a gang, Lomack. You won’t make any friends that way.”
“I’m not looking to make friends,
Strang; I’m looking to fight the greenies for my freedom.”
“Okay, I’ll take you up on
that. You’ll be assigned as a sergeant
in Lieutenant Purdy’s platoon.”
“Sergeant?” Lomack asked.
“Yes. I know you’ve had the training, and I also
know you’re loyal and will use all the initiative you possess to get the job
done. But I’ll have my eye on you, if I
suspect you’re not telling me the truth, if I think you might have some plan to
clear yourself with the greenies by turning in me and my men or sabotaging our
operational plans, I’ll have you court-martialed and shot!”
“I’m on your side now and you’re
the top dog, is that it, Strang?”
“Not top dog. We have a loosely organized regiment and I
command a combat company of that regiment.
CONDEL has, at most, 30,000 people here at Botany Bay. Most are transportees, some are immigrants,
and some are even gentlemen immigrants who have paid handsomely for luxury
transportation of their families and the 1,000 hectares they receive, after the
transportees have improved the land for them.
Estimates say no more than 1,000 immigrants work as clerks, bureaucrats
and appointed functionaries for CONDEL, like you once did. The largest part of the colony has no love
for the governor and his greenies.
CONDEL won’t even draft them to fight.
“If I find it necessary to do
something about you, it will not be anything personal, Lomack. If I have evidence of subversive activities
on your part, I won’t get involved personally, I’ll prefer charges against you
and have you taken to the regimental commander for disciplinary action. I wouldn’t trust myself not to treat it
personal where you are concerned. Get on
your feet now.”
John did so and was surprised
when Strang held out his hand. “No hard
feelings, Lomack. You pull your weight and
we’ll forget there ever were any difficulties between you and I. Agreed?”
“Deal,” Lomack said as he grasped
the outstretched hand. He wondered if
Strang honestly meant his words. He also
wondered if he would have behaved with the same magnanimity if their roles had
been reversed.
“Runner!” Captain Strang shouted
into empty air. Instantly a young
soldier appeared inside the tent and snapped to attention.
“Private Hastings, Captain!”
“Again today, Hastings? What have you done to get on the top-kick’s shit-list? No, don’t tell me, I might have to confine
you to quarters or something and I can’t afford to lose a good fighting man.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hastings said.
“Take Sergeant Lomack to
Lieutenant Purdy and tell him I said Lomack is to take over Winters squad. Have Lieutenant Purdy send Winter to me, on
the double. That will be all.”
“Yes, sir,” Hastings said, but
remained standing at attention.
“Outside now, Hastings, I want to
have one more word with Sergeant Lomack.”
The private saluted and did an about face.
When the runner was outside the tent, Lomack
asked, “How did Winter screw up?”
“He hasn’t, Sergeant. He’s just green. Winter
is a good man, but he needs a little more seasoning before the men will follow
him without question. He follows orders
and fights well, but his leadership doesn’t impress the men. I’m not going to take him down a peg, I can
use him as a training and operations NCO and perhaps improve his leadership. Damned politics drive me crazy! Why can’t I just get a soldier who’ll follow
orders and kill greenies? Why do I have
to coddle their personalities to avoid hurting their feelings?”
Lomack began to think perhaps
this was a side of the former convict he had never seen before. “I guess you do those things simply because
it’s in your nature, Captain. That must
be why your colonel put you in charge of this company.”
“Blow it out your barracks bag,
soldier! I just happened to be standing
in the wrong place when the colonel was looking for a new company
commander. The responsibility has
changed me also; no longer am I just on the lookout for my own well being. I have nearly a hundred men whose lives
depend on what I do or do not do. I
can’t let them down. I’m sure you
understand what I’m trying to say, John, I won’t let what’s passed between us
before get in the way of my duties to the regiment or my men. You understand me?”
Lomack snapped to attention and
gave a salute, hoping he did not look too silly. “Yes, sir!”
“Good, now get the hell out of my
sight.”
Lomack liked
Lieutenant Purdy from the moment he met the man. Strang’s men were in the field, and the company
commander had the only tent, which was needed for the paperwork that Armies
have historically found necessary to conduct battles since an Egyptian pharaoh
invented ‘carbon-papyrus.’ Purdy was
sitting cross-legged beneath a tree and cleaning a wicked sub-machine gun when
they met.
“Sit down,
sergeant,” he said, after Private Hastings had delivered the instructions from
Strang. “You’ll probably find Winter
hanging around the mess wagon, Hastings.
He has a bad sprain and couldn’t go out with his squad today. Tell him I’m sorry to see him go, but this
will be an opportunity to learn from the captain how a fighting unit runs. Personally I think the old man has his eye on
Winter for future promotion.”
“Yes, sir,”
Hastings said and disappeared into the woods.
Lomack thought it a nice touch that the officer should send his good
wishes to the young soldier.
“Nice looking
weapon,” Lomack said after seating himself.
“You think so? I guess it is,” the lieutenant said. “We manufacture these. Don’t have enough for everyone to have one,
but they are sweet, deadly, and practically jam proof. What more can a soldier ask for?” The lieutenant failed to mention where the
weapons were manufactured, of course Lomack understood it must be a closely
guarded secret. The runners certainly
couldn’t go into CONDEL headquarters and submit a requisition for assault
weapons and ammunition.
“I’ve heard of you,
Lomack. Used to be on the other side,
weren’t you?”
“I was sheriff over
in Benton City,” Lomack answered apprehensively. Was he going to have to justify himself to
everyone one of these rebels he met?
“And now you’re on
our side, eh? Well, the Captain’s
judgment has always been good enough for me, sergeant. If he says you’re gonna be in charge of a
squad of mine, I won’t question it. You
have eight men, all out on a screening patrol at the moment. I’ll tell you a little about them after we
get you something to wear and something to fight with. Later, when they return, I’ll introduce you
to them.” He changed the subject. “When’s the last time you ate, sergeant?”
“Yesterday around
noon, sir, speared me a fish with a green branch sharpened on a rock. I guess I was a little careless with my cook
fire and a couple runners nabbed me and brought me here.”
“You should have
eaten it raw, sergeant, don’t let that kind of carelessness get any of your men
killed. And you better get used to
calling the men soldiers. We’re a
military unit fighting for the destiny of this planet. We’re not your typical escaped transportee
who preys on honest settlers out of laziness.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll remember that.”
“Fine.” Purdy screwed the barrel onto his sub-machine
gun and slapped a magazine into the feed-well. He put his cleaning gear into a back pack and
stood up, “Let’s get you something to eat and I’ll tell you about your men,
then we’ll go to the supply wagon and see if Sergeant Miller has anything you
can shoot with.”
Over the next few
weeks, John adapted quickly to his new role as leader of a squad in
combat. He got to know his squad members
and soon learned their strengths and weaknesses. Some were able point men; others had a
tendency to get lost in the woods. Some
were excellent marksmen; others were better used as kitchen police. Acting independently as a squad, or with the
rest of the platoon, he participated in several raids or ambushes on greenie
police barracks to capture weapons and ammunition. The runners seldom had enough of either. They also attacked warehouses to obtain
clothing and food, or government clinics to secure medical supplies.
John was not happy
with the necessity for so much killing.
He complained to Lieutenant Purdy privately, “Even when the greenies
surrender, we still kill them. Does it
always have to be that way?”
“No one enjoys
killing, Lomack, but you realize we don’t have the ability to detain prisoners,
feed them, clothe them, and take care of their medical needs. More importantly, we cannot allow the
possibility of escape and the chance to report our location, strength,
equipment, and plans. This is a war and
the enemy must be destroyed.
“Our only advantage
is that Earth is eleven light-years distant, and CONDEL cannot easily obtain reinforcements. They can only recruit from among immigrants
already on-planet, and most will not willingly support the government.
“The greenies we
kill are fortunate to have a quick, clean death. Do you know what they do if they capture us?”
“I had assumed they
would take us to a collection point and perhaps confine us until the rebellion
is over?” John ventured.
“Not on this prison
planet, Lomack. Botany Bay is young, as
planets go, and coal and oil don’t yet exist, which is why we are still
primarily an agricultural colony with a horse and buggy economy. But radioactive minerals are abundant and CONDEL
must continue exporting nuclear fuel to Earth.
Prisoners are sentenced to the mines at Purgatory, which is the same as
sentencing them to a slow and lingering death.
Five years in the mines will surely result in leukemia or other forms of
cancer. Few prisoners survive. None have ever survived ten years. So which would you prefer, a quick, clean
death, or a lingering and agonizing one?”
“I understand what
you’re saying, lieutenant, but I still don’t like it.”
“That’s an
important quality in a leader, sergeant.
If you were a person who killed for fun, you would most likely take
unnecessary risks which would needlessly expose your men to the enemy. We kill only when we must and not because we
enjoy it.”
After another month
in which John led his squad on daily reconnaissance missions, Captain Strang
called his platoon leaders together to announce an imminent and decisive plan
of battle. After the officer’s briefing,
Lieutenant Purdy brought his platoon together and outlined the plan of action.
“Men,” he told
them, “the greenies are pushing through the Homestead Valley in force. Our patrols tell us as many as six hundred
men, with individual and crew-served weapons, even some light artillery, are
moving along the east bank of Dickerson’s River.” As he spoke, the lieutenant used a stick to
sketch in the dirt so the twenty-seven men could visualize their part in the operation.
“The river bank
narrows substantially at this point,” he drew an X with his stick. “We’re assigned to stop the greenies here and
prevent further movement.”
“Christ,
lieutenant, just our company against six hundred greenies? We won’t have a chance!” one of the privates
said.
“Not the entire
company, Rivera, just our platoon.
Captain Strang and the remainder of the company have a different role to
play in this battle.” The remainder of
the men began to mutter with disapproval and uncertainty. They had discovered this certainly must be a
suicide mission… they would be outnumbered probably fifteen to one. Enthusiasm was non-existent.
John Lomack didn’t
much like the odds either. Oh, sure, the
greenies would not be able to present a wide front and wouldn’t be able to
bring all their strength to bear simultaneously. The river and the narrowing bank would
canalize the CONDEL troops between the water and the cliffs, with no more than
thirty meters for them to maneuver. That
would provide a small advantage to Purdy’s men.
It reminded John of the Battle of Thermopalye and the three hundred
Spartans standing off the Persians. The
Spartans were defeated when a route around their defensive positions was shown
to the Persians, but they had made a good stand to protect their homeland from
the invading army. Much later, a Greek
poet wrote of the defenders, “Go then, and tell them we gave our todays, so
that they could have their tomorrows.”
John wondered if
anyone would write of the battle along the banks of Dickerson’s River. He wondered also if he would be alive to read
the account.
Lieutenant Purdy
reminded the men they had eleven kilometers to travel if they were to reach the
area of battle before dark. He gave
orders for the platoon to load up with extra ammunition that would be needed for
the battle and to be ready to move in just half an hour.
John was worried
naturally, knowing as soon as the platoon left the company area they would be
cut off and isolated without contact with the rest of the company. The runners could not afford to use radio
communications which could be easily intercepted by the technologically
superior CONDEL forces with access to satellite surveillance and computerized
code breaking techniques. Wide-spread
communications among the rebel forces was possible only through the use of
narrow beamed laser devices employed to transmit light or voice signals. The laser devices had to be located at fixed
points known to all the rebels and which, of necessity, had to be moved
frequently to prevent compromise.
With John’s squad
bringing up the rear of the platoon, they moved out after a hasty lunch. They carried rations for only two meals as
many of them did not expect to be alive after that.
Moving quietly
through the woods, they encountered no greenie patrols and hours later arrived
at a point from which they could descend the cliffs overlooking Dickerson’s
River. The lieutenant urged them to
descend cautiously for he could not afford to lose a single man due to
carelessness.
After a fatiguing
descent of fifty meters they reached the level of the river and Lieutenant
Purdy led them south another kilometer to a point where the narrow river bank
was littered with large boulders created by a landfall from the towering cliffs
above them. While it was still light, he
ordered them to improve their defensive position by moving rocks and boulders
into the gaps between the large boulders to form a wall and use clay from the
river bank to mortar them into position.
One squad at a
time, Lieutenant Purdy told them to take a break for a meal. While John’s squad ate, he spoke to his
men. “Keep building the wall through the
night. No defensive position is ever
complete and can always be improved.” He
didn’t tell them no battle was ever won from a defensive position. The Greeks had lost at Thermopalye; the Zionists
had lost at Masada; the Texans had lost at the Alamo; and the Maginot Line of
the French had been ridiculously easy to penetrate by the Germans. Their defense had been a delaying action, at
most. But even delaying the enemy can
provide a tactical advantage.
Had Strang finally given in to a need for
vengeance by assigning the platoon John was in to this hopeless task? Supposedly, even Solomon had repeatedly sent
Uriah the Hittite into battle hoping he would be killed and the king could then
possess himself of Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba.
Did Strang have the subtle motive of Solomon? John decided to ask him, if he survived the
morrow.
Purdy didn’t expect
the greenies to send out patrols at night.
As far as he knew there were still many kilometers between his platoon
and the advancing CONDEL forces.
Nevertheless, he maintained listening posts five hundred meters to the
front with orders to fall back to the wall at the first sign of approach by the
greenies. The remainder of his men he
allowed to sleep in shifts, with half always remaining alert.
John Lomack did not
sleep well even when he tried to lay down.
For nearly ten years he had supported the CONDEL administration, doing
his job to the best of his ability. Because
a few corrupt government officials had seen an opportunity to make a huge
profit from his four hundred and forty hectares, he had been declared a
criminal by the administration and had been forced to take sides with the
rebels. He wondered if his land was worth
the coming battle. If he were to be killed,
what value would it be to him? He had no
family to inherit the land.
With the rising of
the sun, the troops consumed the last of their rations and continued to improve
their bulwark. Around nine in the morning,
the outposts returned in a hurry and reported to Lieutenant Purdy.
“They’re less than
a kilometer off,” Corporal Jenkins said.
“Not many trees grow in the clay soil along the river bank and we
counted at least sixty greenies leading the column.”
“Just one klick,”
the lieutenant said. “That means they’ll
probably be here in about twenty minutes, thirty if they are extra
cautious. Pass the word to everyone to
prepare for action. Make sure your ammo
and grenades are laid out conveniently at hand.
We have to stop them before they reach the wall or we’re history.”
Grimly the men set
about their task. Weapons were checked,
in some cases a final snack consumed, and they waited. The greenies arrived, all too soon. “Let them get out in the open,” Lomack
advised his squad. “The lieutenant will
give the order to fire when they are close enough. If we kill enough in the first volley, the
rest will delay until reinforcements can catch up with them.” He half opened the bolt on his rifle to
inspect the chamber and be sure a round was ready to fire. “Get set,” he told them, a needless warning.
In moments the
first of the greenies appeared from the low bushes in front of the hastily
built wall. They came in a ragged column
of fours, at least fifteen deep as the outposts had reported. Purdy’s platoon was already outnumbered more
than two to one, but the lieutenant had not yet ordered them to open fire.
And still they
came. As the advance troops approached,
reinforcements came right behind them until John could see at least two hundred
men bearing down on their puny wall.
“Fire!” the
lieutenant yelled at last. Gun smoke
filled the air and the thundering volley was deafening. Dead or dying greenies began to hit the
ground, others dropped low to make a smaller target, and still they kept coming,
inching slowly forward on their bellies.
For the first few moments, the platoon fired as rapidly as possible,
stopping the attack before it gained momentum.
Then the greenies began using the technique of fire and maneuver. A dozen men on the left would fire rapidly to
keep the defenders heads low while another dozen on the right advanced three,
four or five meters in rapid leaps and short runs. Taking turns in this fashion, they were
slowly approaching the defenders. Their
losses were terrible but there was no question they would be able to overrun
the lieutenant’s platoon within the next half hour.
Bullets peppered
the defenders. Here a man fell mortally
wounded, there another fell. Those not
seriously wounded crawled back to their firing positions and continued the
attempt to stop the enemy. Lieutenant
Purdy took a bullet to the head which smashed his left ear and furrowed his
skull. He would live, but he was unconscious,
temporarily out of action. Being the more
experienced of the three squad leaders, Lomack assumed command of the platoon
and directed the placement of casualties while at the same time redistributing
the available fighting men to occupy the best defensive positions.
But the greenies
could not be stopped. Their numbers
bunched up into a solid wall of attackers who would easily climb the hastily
erected wall in the next few minutes.
John’s rifle became
hot in his hands and he replaced it with one from a wounded comrade. Their losses were becoming crucial and much
too soon to stall the advance for long.
They had started with twenty-seven men at sunrise. Already there were three dead and half a
dozen seriously wounded and no longer combat effective. Only two-thirds of the platoon remained to
deter the CONDEL troops. More than a
hundred greenies were dead or dying in front of the defenders, but five hundred
more continued to press the attack.
It was obvious the
defenders had but minutes to live. The
sheer number of the attackers would shortly over whelm the small force. They had fought with valor, but the battle
had been lost before it began.
The doomed men
refused to falter. The defenders never
considered surrender. If they had to
die, they would take as many greenies as possible to accompany them into hell.
Their situation was
untenable; the greenies had approached to less than thirty meters using fire
and maneuver. They were well within hand
grenade range and the defenders continued to impose a deadly toll on the
attackers. The assault was slow but
unstoppable. John decided he would not
mind dying, but regretted the number of friends who would be sacrificed with
him. Damn Strang! He should have known the folly of this
defense! Why did he have to send an
entire platoon here to be slaughtered?
John’s question was
answered at the last possible moment when a dozen simultaneous explosions
ripped the cliffs above the river bank.
In moments, thousands of tons or dirt and rock rained down on the
attackers, crushing more than a hundred and forcing others into the river. Following the explosions, the rest of the
company appeared atop the cliff, not less than sixty riflemen began firing at
the dazed and disorganized greenies. The
carnage was frightful as security troops dashed to the river where they had no
cover and made easy targets for Captain Strang’s sharpshooters. A few dropped their weapons and raised their
hands, still they were shot down and their bodies swept away by the current. In less than ten minutes the attackers were
defeated and the firing ceased.
Lomack assembled
the remainder of his platoon and made sure the wounded were being cared
for. The care his medic could give was
limited, but Captain Strang would soon be here with a more experienced medic
and additional supplies. It began to
look as though Purdy’s defenders would last the remainder of this day, perhaps
to fight another battle next week or next month.
“Check your
weapons,” John told the survivors. “I
want half of you cleaning them and half of you keeping your eyes open. Collect any ammunition you can find and
distribute it evenly. No one goes
forward of the wall! We’ve done our job
and the old man will be here soon. We’ll
let fresh troops search for survivors and strip the dead.” Following his own orders, he began to field
strip and clean his rifle for future action.
His fighting duties would not end until the runners had defeated the
CONDEL forces.
An hour later
George Strang and the remainder of the company reached the river bank, except
for a small force the captain had left to maintain surveillance on the cliffs
above. Quickly the top-kick disposed his
forces to search the battle field and retrieve anything of value.
“The old man said
you can move your men back to our camp in the woods, Lomack. We’ll get the captured equipment to the top
of the cliffs where we have a pair of wagons to take anything useful back with
us.”
“Right, Top, can
you spare a few men to help my wounded get to the top?”
“Sure thing,” he
answered, quickly detailing six men to help Lomack with the wounded.
John collected the
survivors and began moving them up the river bank to the spot where they would
ascend the cliff. Shortly he encountered
Strang who eagerly approached with his hand held out. “Congratulations, Johnny! Your men have done a….”
His words cut off
as Lomack landed a powerful uppercut which knocked him to the ground.
“The next time you
want to use me as bait, Strang, you can at least warn me!” Johnny said with
fury in his voice.
Strang raised
himself to his elbows and rubbed his jaw.
“I guess I deserved that, Lieutenant, but don’t ever strike me
again. It doesn’t look good in front of
the men to have officer’s fighting.”
The captain stood
and offered his hand again, this time Lomack accepted it with a firm hand-shake
indicating loyalty and understanding.
“We had to force
the greenies into a mass formation where we could easily defeat them,
Johnny. This chance was too good to pass
up. I knew that Purdy and you would
never give up your position, so I had to choose you for the job.
“Explosives are
easy to manufacture and we had plenty on hand.
The problem was to get the greenies in one place where we could make effective
use of them, and you did the job beautifully.
“Intelligence tells
us the greenies had about eighteen hundred troops before this morning, and your
platoon has made it possible for us to cut that number by at least a
third. This is more than a victory for
us, it puts CONDEL on the defensive and we know they cannot last much longer.”
“I would have liked
to know what the plan was, George. I
thought we were about to die here. I’m
just too stubborn to give up and had to hold out as long as we could.”
“I know that too,
Johnny. Lieutenant Purdy has the same
quality. That’s why I chose your
platoon. He’ll be okay in a week or so,
and he’s too good to go to waste so I’m bumping him up to regimental HQ. The colonel will be glad to have another good
man on his staff as we continue to press the greenies. Perhaps the end will soon be in sight.
“Now get your men
home and take a well deserved rest. The
remainder of us will clean up things here.”
Newly promoted
Lieutenant John Lomack saluted. “Yes,
sir!”
“Alright, men,” he
shouted to his platoon. “Who told you we
were on break? Move your tails now;
we’ll take a break when we get home where cookie surely has something for us to
eat.”
His platoon moved
off to begin climbing the steep cliffs along the Dickerson. John squared his shoulders and moved off with
them. An officer should always try to
present a good example. Perhaps there would be a poet some day to write of the
Battle at Dickerson’s River.
Perhaps being on
the other side was the right side after all.