As I mentioned a few days ago I have been working on a little bit of fiction writing off and on the past few months and I would like to begin posting it for comments. It isn't much just a smattering of short ramblings based on characters who inhabit a fictional county that is currently engaged in insurrection against tyrannical government goons of many flavors.
I don't have some grandiose plans for the future for any of this, it is really just an exercise I have been working on dealing mostly with local militia supply and support issues. Many of you may remember I consider the matter of irregular supply and logistics as the most important aspect of armed local resistance in a scenario such as this. While reading about Ex-Special forces operatives behind every tree actively fighting back against alphabet agencies is exciting I have yet to read any works that present the activities of the common man if you will or more to the point how these common Patriots would take on the role of making sure those who were physically able to take the fight to the enemy would be materially able to do so. I know some authors have mentioned it briefly here and there but I have never felt the subject as been given it's due if you will.
Ya pretty boring stuff I know. But consider the problems these people would have collecting food and other necessities and setting them aside and then delivering them to those they support when needed.
Like I said just something I been playing around with. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know what you think. I didn't get too excited about grammar, structure or punctuation either so pick on that if you like as well.
Keep Prepping Everyone!!!
Everything was still covered in dew as the sun began to break over the budding hardwoods and cast it's orange glow across the fields and fences. What few cattle remained on the small farm were already at the pasture gate waiting to be fed.
Sara could hear them protesting as she slipped out of bed and gathered up her clothes.
Don's side of the bed was already empty, he had awoke hours earlier and slipped out the door heading for the back of the farm. A fence was down and he needed to have it fixed before they could move the cattle from one pasture to the other. Don had taken all the materials he needed to fix the fence out yesterday so there was no need to take one of the vehicles this morning. He would walk and then pick up the tools later when it was time to put a bale of hay out with the tractor.
Both gas and diesel were in short supply so combining trips was a necessity.
Since matrial law had been declared almost a year ago everything had been rationed. Sara and Don's place barely qualified them as a "working" farm so the government goons had allowed them to stay on their property. Many of the locals who had houses scattered around in hidden pockets had been forced to relocate to an approved city. No matter how much land you owned if you had a job somewhere else or didin't work your land directly the government would not allow you to stay.
Sara and Don's nearest neighbors, the Hendersons had lived barely a mile down the county road and they had been forced off their land for that very reason. They had owned almost 200 acres but leased out some of it and collected Department of Ag "CRP" money off other parts by not planting anything. When the economic problems struck Mr. Henderson was one of the few who had held on to his full time job at a bank, now nationalized, in a nearby small city. Under the new rules only those who directly worked the land were allowed to reside in the rural countryside. Many local college and government employees who fancied themselves country dwellers had a rude awakening when they found out they no longer had the right to own land under the new government rules.
What the government was going to do with all the small (and large) private estates and land they had confiscated was as yet unknown.
Sara didn't really feel a bit sorry for them actually. They had always been part of the problem. They wanted their own property and houses away from the cities but still aimed to benefit from the taxes of others. They voted in the politicians that promised more spending just so they could keep their pensions and cushy jobs. Good riddance to em. They didn't belong out here anyway.
As Sara exited the house to start the day which began with shutting up the complaining cattle, she glanced over at the fence line running between the yard and the small hay field. Sure enough the fist sized piece of limestone was sitting right on top of the third fence post from the Western corner.
She had expected that.
Two days earlier the Feds had hit the Hubers' farm not 5 miles North up County Highway J. Sara didn't know the Hubers personally but news of the "raid" traveled fast. It certainly hadn't been the first one around here this Winter.
Sara didn't know which specific government agency had done it. Rumors flew of course that they were looking for guns or other contraband but the truth was Sara couldn't keep all the different agencies straight anyway. At nearly 60 years old she wasn't going to go grab a rifle and take off across the countryside no matter how much she wanted to so keeping track of the specific agencies was useless to her anyway. Don was in no shape for guerrilla warfare either for that matter. Their days of physical resistance were past but they could still help.
That stone meant that once again their help was being asked for.
Officially Marion county had been pacified but unofficially the government had never let out that they had lost two complete "teams" this Winter alone. Once a raid went down or news of one surfaced the local militia would activate or so Sara imagined. She had heard rumors that other sympathizers located close to heavily traveled roads would tip off the militia when a convoy was moving. Other times she had been told that the local militia would set up ambush traps or wait close to farms they thought were likely to be raided.
Don had mentioned last Fall that air assets in the form of helicopters and such had never materialized in this part of the country. The government thugs needed those elsewhere it was assumed but such things were outside Sara and Don's knowledge.
The less Sara knew about the particulars the better she felt. She didn't know any of the militiamen. That fleeting image that melted into the woods two months ago that reminded her an awful lot of her own great nephew could have been anyone really. Neither her sister nor her niece ever mentioned Zack joining the militia and that was exactly where Sara wanted the matter to rest.
It was enough for Sara to know that the Limestone rock showing up on that particular fence post meant the militia was asking for supplies. The government enforcers had tax payer funded MREs and trained support crews. The local militia had only what they could get locally.
Sara would not let the boys down.