The Face of Freedom. Benjamin Vance

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The Face of Freedom - Benjamin Vance


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was, kind of! It’s an old Civilian Conservation Corps, or CCC camp my dad calls it. It was made over, and then kind of abandoned for years. I guess that’s why so many trees have grown up. Anyway, my dad bought it about six or seven years ago and we started this camp.”

      “I thought the MSA had been organized for many years.”

      “Yeah, it has, but not here. It was just a bunch of guys that met in this general area and used the range once in a blue moon. When my dad bought this land there were a lot of guys piss … excuse me, mad as heck about not having a place to go to drink beer and shoot and BS about hunting. He and Ralph Lazenby got together and decided to turn this into a real compound. Duncan is a First Lieutenant in the Montana National Guard and he and they kind of set this place up … I guess ... kind of organized it.” She looked at him for credence.

      He didn’t give it. Instead, he planted a seed for future growth. “They should have let Duncan set it up Julie. What branch is he, do you know?”

      “Army; he’s in the Army National Guard.”

      “I mean what kind of specialty does he have, within the Army Guard … while he’s on active duty?”

      “Oh yeah, I think he’s … he’s like a leader of some Bradleys; some kind of tanks.”

      “Would it be Bradley Fighting Vehicles with the 30 millimeter cannons?”

      “Yeah, that’s it. He commands a couple of those things I think.”

      While they were walking and talking, he noticed she carried a plastic bag with a hardware logo on it. He asked, “Did you get our switch?”

      “Yep; well I got what the lady said was as close as she had. It’s a four pole switch and you only need three I think.”

      “Yes, that should be all we need to switch that mechanism back and forth. Now, if it works, we need someone to repair that one target holder with the bent section. It’s bent because it’s partially broken. It needs to be welded before you can slide in a target or a piece of plywood for the target to stick to.”

      “Oh, I don’t know anybody that can weld, but I’m sure somebody in this bunch of people can weld.”

      “I can weld, if you can find the equipment.”

      “Is there anything you can’t do?”

      “Yes, Miss Julie; lots of things I can’t do. Most of my life I was a JOAT, but I did finally reach the zenith of my capability in the material world.”

      “What the heck is a JOAT and what makes you think you’ve reached your zenith?”

      “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting your age. Jack of all trades or JOAT! I said zenith in the material world. Right now I think … I hope I’m aspiring to a higher goal than I ever dared when young.”

      “What’s young have to do with it? What did you do in the material world as you call it?”

      “Do you understand what I said last night about not wanting any notoriety for my part?”

      “Yeah, I understand, but I don’t agree with it.”

      He smiled inwardly, because that’s pretty much what he thought she’d say. He granted her the cut-eye stare that she was so fond of performing and said, “I think when one is young, we fear death because there is so much life to live in front of us. When some of us get older we begin to welcome the prospect of death ... for varying reasons. Perhaps things have changed so much in one’s lifetime that everything seems foreign and superficial.”

      He caught her eyes and continued, “For instance, when I was a young man you could form a contract with a handshake. When someone said they would be somewhere at a certain time, they were always there a bit early. Very few people stole, or lied, or got fat, or didn’t work and expect to get paid by the government for not working, and have more babies to make more money. It’s a different world now, and our Nation has changed. It changed after nine eleven, and it changed after the Saint Louis arch was toppled. People are afraid. They’ve been convinced by the government it can make them safe, when in fact the government can hardly function. As for me, I’m ready to die for my country if that’s what it takes. I’m no different than millions who’ve gone before me.”

      He gave it a break and Julie jumped in, “Usually though, it’s the young men and women who die for their country; not the older folks. What’s your take on that?”

      “Yes, I’ve thought about that and I think mostly young men are in it for the excitement or to prove something … yet the patriotism factor can’t be denied. When I was young, patriotism was the big thing of course. But, every young man worth his salt wanted to prove he was a courageous man. They joined the service of their choice or were drafted. The cowards went to another country.”

      “Maybe they weren’t cowards, perhaps they had different morals or convictions?”

      “Few and far between. If you got to the root of the reason, most were afraid. Thus, the government sees the need to make people feel safe and takes away freedoms to accomplish the mission. It’s easier to do it that way; no diplomacy and no threats to other countries.”

      “I can’t say I agree with you, but Duncan might.”

      “I’d feel bad if you agreed with everything I said. I like; that you have your own ideas.”

      “Can you take my own ideas about how to fix the broken target holder?”

      He stopped, looked at her and nodded his head. They stood there in silence for a moment. He thought he saw something in Julie’s eyes, just for a second that scared him.

      She continued, a bit reluctantly with, “Why can’t we bolt the frame back together?”

      “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. It’s a great idea if we can find some bolts, nuts, washers and a drill and bit.”

      “I think all that stuff is in the main supply and storage shed. Can we put in the switch and see if it works first?”

      “Sure thing, and by the time we get it working it should be lunch time for you.”

      The switch did not work the first time. He adjusted the pole sequence and it reversed without a hitch. They let it run through several back and forth repetitions and were proud of their work. The old hound wagged his tail in approval as well. In the final reverse run the broken target holder arm broke off completely. The reverse motion and momentum were too much for the rusty old metal. He made a mental note to place wire between the uprights to give them added support.

      Julie was delighted and upon returning to the cafeteria was like a little girl relating the morning’s endeavors and triumphs to her mother. Altrise Parker looked at the walker and beamed. Afterwards, he and the old hound made for the woods to work on the plan he decided to present to the combined forces of the MSA on Saturday night. He didn’t know Duncan yet, but felt sure at least some of his recommendations would be heeded. In addition, he wasn’t hungry.

      8.

      He’d been in the pine thicket about an hour when the old hound began a low growl, then started wagging his tail. Someone was coming through the woods noisily. He made a mental note to move his contemplation headquarters.

      “Hey there you guys,” came the greeting from Julie, walking ahead of her mother. He breathed a little sigh of relief. He held up his hand in welcome.

      “What are you ladies doing way out here?”

      “Well,” came the metered response from Altrice, with a butt-in from Julie, “We thought you and the other old hound could use some grub.”


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