Happy 241st Birthday Army!
**Ragged Old Flag, Johnny Cash**
Prologue
June 13, 2015
Sergeant Garth Simpson-Slattery eyed the front of the car dealership contemplating how to properly lower the 30 foot long flag currently waving 90 feet above his head. When Major Velasquez had offered their company's services to President Michener, he was pretty sure this wasn't the kind of engineering challenge he'd had in mind. He walked around the pole studying the pulley system. There wasn't a winch or a cam or anything, terrible design. He had a feeling that on a windy day like this, if he released the rope, the flag would simply sail away.
"Findley, Chan, find me a vehicle with a winch on it. The heavier the better." He watched as they fanned out, jogging through the car lot looking for a jeep or utility truck of some kind. He made another circle of the flagpole, scowling. Commander Slattery probably recommended them specifically for this task thinking they couldn't get it done in time for the birthday cake ceremony tomorrow. Ha, too bad he didn't know Velasquez was known for pushing his people to get projects done "ahead of schedule and under budget." Want a bridge to get an armored vehicle across a ravine and on its way to a remote Pakistani cave? Been there, done that. Need a dam rebuilt two months before the monsoon season hits southern Iraq? Yep, they could do that. Airfield bombed yesterday but needed today? Sure. Hell, those Navy gits probably didn't realize that the only reason they could get their over priced tin cans in and out of Norfolk was because the Corps of Engineers was out there dredging the channel 365 days a year, not to mention maintaining the shipping channel for everyone else, dealing with contaminated sediment, and rebuilding the oyster habitat.
Michener at least seemed to have a decent appreciation of history. For the last five months the new combined military, the USCF as they were calling it, had been working to spread the cure. But Michener had also tasked them with rebuilding the US and re-establishing diplomatic relations with other countries. He'd called for a Fourth Continental Congress to assemble and vote on many key topics, including a temporary budget and authorization for payment of USCF personnel.
Tomorrow, June 14th, was supposed to be the beginning of the congressional assembly. Teams from the Nathan James and other active units had been collecting and escorting delegates to St. Louis for months and they were only three people away from a quorum now. Michener had decided the kickoff needed to be festive and fun but also showcase their continued military strength. When he'd summoned Major Velasquez and Garth this morning he'd opened with a question. "Do you know what the first act of the Second Continental Congress was?" Garth knew, they had authorized the continental Army. Michener had gone on to say that convening the congress was important internally but also as a show to foreign powers that the US was not a defenseless sitting duck.
Velasquez's ordinance team had already done a great job planning the fireworks. Somehow Commander Green had located enough people for a fife and drum band and Velasquez had sent a team to Fort Leonard Wood to collect the traditional uniforms of the ages. Garth was quite proud to be assigned a very attractive 1880's era cavalry uniform. His wife had spent all week carefully polishing the fittings and steaming the decorative gold braid. The Navy chefs had begrudgingly agreed to bake the Army's traditional birthday cake. When a tiff about who would cut the cake had erupted, given that the oldest person they had, Master Chief Jeter, was Navy, the President had decreed that the first person to enlist in the USCF, a kid by the name of Ray, would cut the cake instead. But despite all those plans, the president had not been satisfied. "This will be televised and news around the world. Our known and potential enemies and allies will be seeing it. I can't have that run down flag on top of the Courthouse building. Can your people do something about it?"
And so Garth found himself commandeering a flag from a used car lot along Route 44. As he waited for Chan and Findley to return he contemplated the flag. They were going to need to take down the rope too, to restring the flagpole on top of the Old Courthouse. After nearly a year of neglect the only thing remaining of the old flag was a few strips of tattered nylon. He already had two men working on opening the access panel in the courthouse roof. Unfortunately, in the chaotic aftermath of the Red Flu, most of the keys for the historic building had been lost too. Add locksmith service to the long list of skills his people were currently providing.
But he sighed, they weren't going to be able to pull this one off on their own. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Sergeant Simpson, how's it going with the flag?" Commander Kara Foster-Green's level voice made him smile. If only all the brass was as nice as her. He supposed the fact that his wife had known Foster-Green for years didn't hurt.
"It's Simpson-Slattery Ma'am."
"Last I heard the commander had not yet approved of that name Sergeant." He could hear the note of teasing in her voice. By now everyone was making fun of his name but he still refused to change it. His wife liked it that way so that was the way it was going to be whether the Commander approved or not. He didn't mind the teasing from Kara though, given how much confusion her change to Green had turned out to be for everyone.
"It's going along well so far Ma'am, but I'm calling to request some manpower. If we're going to do this right we need 20 to 30 people down here ASAP. Can you find us some recruits?" He really didn't need to ask if she could find them. Everyone knew that nothing happened in St. Louis without Commander Foster-Green knowing.
"Hum, do you need skilled people or just hands to get the job done?"
Garth thought about it. "I just need some physically fit people to hold the flag up off the ground as it comes down. It might not look it, but it's about thirty by twenty feet in size. That much fabric is heavy and it's going to sag a lot so it's the number of people that's important. High school students would do if we can round up enough of them."
He heard her shuffling papers in the background. "Now where did I put that sched..Oh yes. Can it wait half an hour? Master Chief is screening a bunch of new recruits over at the ball park this morning. I can ask him to send 30 candidates over and we can see how well they take direction." She sounded hopeful. "I'd like to come see this for myself."
"Thirty guys in half an hour would be great. And Ma'am, you should stay put. You don't want to trek all the way out here when you're already a week past your due date. If you're still going strong tomorrow you can come out to see us raise the flag and have the Army's birthday cake. Maybe the blank rounds going off the Nathan James at noon can scare the kid out."
She laughed. "Birthday cake? I didn't know the Army had a birthday party too?"
Garth chuckled. Kara was one of the few people who he felt comfortable ribbing about Army-Navy rivalry. "We invented it Ma'am, six months before the Navy even existed."
She just huffed a little "Well, we're all one now. But if there's going to be cake, I don't care whose it is, I'm in. I will hold out for the flag ceremony tomorrow. Besides, my back has been sore all day. Your wife warned me that by the end I would just want this baby out, but I think he's still waiting for his Daddy to get home."
"Still no word Ma'am?" In the distance he heard Chan call out. "Found one."
"No." There was a heavy weight to her voice that he wasn't used to hearing from Foster-Green. She was usually one of the most confident people under pressure. "The last news we had was from the delegates that came back from San Diego on the ship with your father-in-law last week. So, the best we know is that they were alive and doing something they thought was important about five weeks ago." He really felt for her. He knew his wife worried when he was TDY, and since they had married his trips were very well defined missions and rarely in communication silence. But Green's team had been hundreds of miles into enemy territory and all they could do here was wait for the team to reach out.
He felt pretty ineffective saying it but he thought she should know. "Well, when that baby decides to make an appearance, you know the rest of us are here to help."
"Thanks Sergeant. I appreciate it. Please tell Riley thank you again for the diaper covers she sent over last week. I can't believe the twins have grown out of a size already! It seems like they were just born last night!" Tell him about it. Three months and he still hadn't caught up on his sleep. "I'll get those puppies sent over right away. You want them to bring any equipment?"
He eyed the flatbed truck parked at the edge of the sales lot. "Nope, we've got what we need here."
Twenty minutes later several SUVs pulled into the lot and young men and women dressed in PT gear began spilling out. A slightly older man, whose close cropped hair, fitness, and aura of confidence indicated he either had some prior service or was in law enforcement directed them to wait by the cars while he approached Garth. He eyed Garth's sleeve before standing at attention. "Sergeant, I am Retired Specialist Jason Huges. I have brought with me 28 recruits ready to assist in the flag lowering and transportation."
Eying the young people milling about the cars, Garth was glad they had sent at least one other person with some idea of how things worked. He wondered if he looked that young and scared when he first enlisted. "Specialist huh, I requested 30 but you know the Navy, always a day late and a dollar short."
The older man's face split in a wide grin. "I thought for sure you were going to go with you know the squids, first ones there, first ones to fuck it up."
Garth chuckled and stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you Specialist. Y'all just sign up yesterday?"
The other man nodded. "We did. Can't say we are a team yet, but we're happy to do whatever we can." Garth called them all over and told them what he needed. In no time they had the flag down, folded, and tied onto the truck. As they headed back into the downtown district he chatted to Specialist Huges. "Can't say I've ever worked with Sappers before." The other man was saying. "You guys really know how to get things done. Too bad my area of expertise is in linguistics so Master Chief said he thought I'd probably be traveling with the Navy."
Garth tried not to smile gleefully and utterly failed. "You be sure to mention you were impressed with me when you meet Commander Slattery."
This is a prologue for a new story. Stay tuned to find out more about who Simpson-Slattery is; how Kara moves up to Commander; and why Michener must convene a congress so urgently.
