This is another story presented to you all to enjoy by a feller goes by the name "Two Blankets" And please respect his copyright and don't take any or all of his story thanks and enjoy!
THE Chainsaw Revisited
Here it is the continuation of the Loosegroup and another Adventure? *BG*
The Coyote County Militia
'Bout a few weeks ago, The Loose Group were knee deep in the goins on at the
regular monthly blackpowder shootin match. That is to say, we were leaning
agin the pickup door holdin our usual Bench Shooters meetin. Just doin our
regular best towards solvin the worlds problems. And just in case you've
disremembered - The Loose Group Bench Shooters Association was formed and
dedicated to studyin on, and solvin such problems as deeply disturb us and
our fellow man. Matter 0f fact, sometimes we study up solutions that has
to have a problem invented for 'em.
If I remember rightly, it was that lawyer fells, Al Capon (no ·"E" -
remember? ) that come up with the idea that we ought to fall in an do our
duty regarding this militia thing. Now that sort of caught us flatfooted I
admit. We was just standin around, spittin and scratchin and arguin about
who'se turn it was to punch holes in our targets and go turn em in to the
scoreshed - and right out of the blue like a streak of lightnin this dummy
wants us to join the Army
Now for some of us in The Group, this idea hit kinda like backin into a Warm
Mornin stove stoked up with hedge knots. Surprising, to say the least. You
see, when several of us were younger (a whole heap younger) we had made the
acquaintance of Uncle Sam's Army. But that was back when we figgered we was
bullet proof and eight foot tall. It was our duty, you see. Near ever
family in the county has a history of sendin boys off to settle some or
another kind of Federal dispute, some goin clear back to that police
action they refer to as the "War of Northern Agression". When the stuff
hits the fan, you just naturally went down and joined up. Didn't matter
much where they were sendin you or what the doins was all about. When yer
country calls, you go - an that's all there is to that
I reckon most of us just sort of figgered we's too old and slow for dodgin
ball and shot nowadays. I mean, the Federals had made it pretty clear to
most of us, that onct they was through with us, they didn't have much use
for us anyways agin. I can't count the times I've heard the boys tell about
bein turned down for things the Goverment promised 'em in return for doin a
bit of soldierin for them. Seems pretty clear to me that onct they's done
with you -they're done. You might as well not bother 'em none either, or
they'll get their back up and try to lynch you with all that red tape the
Federals are so fond of! And as Bear Ash is plumb tickled to remind us,
the Goverment decided they had a good thing a qoin when those early treatys
worked out the way they did - so they just added a passel of fancy words and
used the same dammed plan on the citizens. When an idea works - you don't
fool with it....!
Well, anyhow, old Al come hellbent fer election into the parkin lot in that
big old right new third hand Buick of his. Pulled left rudder, grabbed a
whole bunch of brake and danged near got her cinched up just short of the
older hooter. Don't matter a bit I guess, since the wall he took out don't
face square to the onlookers at the picnic tables. Onct he got her tied
up, he come bouncin outta that car talkin a mile a minute. Had this fire in
his eye that woulda done a Baptist preacher proud you know. Of course the
first thing we all noticed, was that fancy speckeldy camyflage turkey huntin
suit he had on. Looked near like some of them outfits you see in the big
mail order catalogs we keep in the hooters. I'll say this for him, he does
present a dashing figure in that rig. Why shoot, a man could cut hisself on
them starched creases. I reckoned them big chrome eagles on his collar was
not entirely useful though. You know them turkeys see right smart - they'd
pick up that shiny stuff in a New York minute. Had this black thing all
over his head too; called it a barrette, er baroter somesuch. Right proud
of it too he was; but I got to tell you, it looks a awful lot like a limp
old sock cap.
So when he finally gets within hearin range, we figgered out he was tellin
us we's in the Militia and we gotta gather up and form a Company. Right
about there was when we backed up agin that stove. . . .
Well, he kept rattlin on the way lawyers do. You know, if you study on it -
I bet them fellers talk to theirselves. Now think about it: they start
talkin when they get near you, and they's still talkin when you get away
from 'em . I suppose they talk to theirself just to keep in practice. But
I guess we learnt to put up with Al over the years. He ain't much of a
shot, and he don't know beans about shootin irons, but he does do a powerful
good job writing letters for us. And he's awful good about keepin us
supplied with them business cards he calls "Get Out of Jail Free" tickets.
Although to hear some of the boys tell it, there ain't nothin free about it.
Guess he has a lot of business, for there must be a eight er a dozen office
phone numbers on that card. Course, I've found it's a mite tough to get
people to answer them pay phones.
I recollect what he started out on, was that it was our Constitutional right
and duty to be a part of the Militia. We gotta stand ready to defend
against all comers that would try an tromp all over our Bill of Rights an
all them Amendaments. Seems they's a bunch of pinko-commie hippies takin
over our goverment. They're set to crack down on us freetrappers and danged
near make POWs outta us. Gonna make our hard money worthless too. (course,
lots of folk figgered that already happened back when the Federals took
away the Gold Standard , so that weren't no surprise) I understand that when
enough of them hippies gets elected or bought into office, they's goin to
create one big mess of a state ana control it all irom some fort Wall street
or somethin. Gonna happen soon too, according to them big city newspapers.
Least that's what Mr. Capon says. Now I grant you; most all our readin
comes from them mail order catalogs in the hooters," Guns and Ammo", and
"Four Wheel Drive"; plus the occasional ''Alvord Mirror". Now that Mirror
ain't a bad birdcage liner, and usually if'n you stop in the printshop and
whine awhile, the editor will give you one for free just to get rid of you.
Depends on how brave you are at that time of day though. Bear Ash says that
newspaper feller can steal yer soul if'n he uses that blamed glass plate
camry on you. Seem some of them pitures he prints -I'm inclined to be
cautious But nowheres in that mess of readin had we come across any
such thing like this old boy was tellin us. Only thing I can say, is that I
reckon when a big deal paper like the "National Enquirer" says it's so -
then by gum - it must be so. And there it was, front page, big as life and
twict as mean.
Appears we're facin a threat to our chosen way of life. They's fixin to do
away with a bunch of our liberties. Their gonna infringe on our rights to
act a fool. And then there was the one that yanked everyone's chain..... no
more guns! Now I guarandamntee you that one made ever member of the Loose
Group get up on his hind legs. No shootin irons? Why tarnation, that'd put
the fix on more'n half the folks in the whole dammed country. Just think on
it. Without huntin and shootin matches - what would there be to do.
Wouldn't have no excuse to lay around the cabin tryin to dry boots - drinkin
no label whiskey -
and tellin lies about game just out of range or so big you didn't have the
heart to shoot it. All them big mail order places would have to close up
and put all them telephone girls out of work. When nobody has an excuse to
buy 4X4 pickup trucks, why all them mechanics will starve. What about all
them little Mom and Pop country stores? You cut out the Sunday package
sales on shootin match days - why they'd go broke fer sure. Yessir,
outlawin our guns would be ever bit of a national emergency just like Al
says... And besides, don't you figger, without them shootin irons, you'd
have all that free time on hand - and you know how them wimmen like to fill
up yer free time for you!
Well we got the message; in no uncertain terms, that we was expected to
discharge our duty and prepare to defend all that which we hold near and
dear. And I guess I do recollect a particle of the oath from years ago
that went on somethin about "defending against enemies both foreign and
domestic", so I guess the idea must have some merit. He never was too clear
on where they was comm in from though. It sounded to me like he called em
Liberals, so I figger it must be that bunch outta North Aferka. If we let
them take over, they'll most likely have us all livin in tents and herdin
camels. Can't say I mind livin in a lodge, but danged if I can go the smell
of them camels... What I can't figger, is what they want with our guns. I
seen stories on them people - they ain't much for marksmanship - seems they
are right fond of bombs and such. Wouldn't think they'd have much use for
our rifles. And another thing that bothered a bunch of us - how they figger
to collect up all them guns? I got the drift that they was goin to ride
hard on the US Military and the Federal lawdogs and get them to do the
collectin. Now I don't know about you, but I ain't never seen a Federal
with enough sand in his craw to walk into a Sunday shootin match and ask
for a general surrender. I guess maybe they'd have to send a tank or
somethin. Otherwise I believe they'd likely need a whole batch of new
Federal guys you know
Onct old Al was sure we had the message, he took a breather while
Bear Ash made a run to the truck for another jug of that Fugowee bore
cleaner. That lawyer feller sure seems to like that stuff. Of course, as
time goes on, the rest of us need a little nibble of it too, just so's we
can understand the language he commences to speak. I hear him and a
Pentecostal convert got together one time and like to wore each otherout!
'Bout time the second bunch of logs burnt down, Al got around to layin out
the groundwork as he called it. Now first of all he says we all got to lay
in a supply of A-salt weapons. I figured the way he was talkin, that a
A-salt gun has to hold a whole bunch 0f shots, and fire real fast. Old
Slack Jaw popped up and announced that he'd be right proud danged sure fire
a whole bunch of shot at ....... Bear Ash volunteered his old war club,
and allowed as how that had to be the original A-salt weapon - and I'm a
mite inclined to agree with that. Of course there were all sorts of
twict-barrel shotguns offered up. But old Al wouldn't have none of that.
Says we got to go out and buy or trade for a bunch of Chinese Chainsaws....
Well right now you know Doc Farqstartter come up off'n his stump and
bristled up somethin fierce in Al's face. "We done settled that chainsaw
affair awhile back, and dammed if I can stand more of that fun. Besides,
whatever happened to buying American? If we gotta get chainsaws, to hell
with them Chinese, let's talk McCollock chainsaws" ...
"Besides which, my woman already has a couple of good saws and I don't need
no more...." Mr. Capon kinda backed off a mite, and crawfished a bit , and
finally got Doc settled some. Guess he never give it a thought that none of
us had ever come across that term afore. You see, he was talkin about some
fancy military shootin iron they use to storm beaches in China and
Yugoslowvakia and suchlike. Load that thing on Sunday and fire it all
month , to hear him tell it.
Now I don't know all the particulars, but I guess to
have a militia, you gotta have them Chainsaws. Seems a poor proposition to
me, but Al says it has to be so. You gotta be able to shoot thirty or more
shots right fast he says. And then we can take em to this gun mechanic over
at Tequllia flats and we will doctor em up a bit so's they'll rip off 600
balls a minute or some ungodly sum. Of course they was immediate objections
from all the assembly on that one. After all, it only takes a Freetrapper
one shot to do the job don't it? Well not accordin to the militia. Ya
gotta be ready to shoot the enemy at least fifteen or a dozen times just to
be sure. Sounds like a waste of powder and shot to me. But if it has to
be, then I guess we have to come up with some sort of A-salt gun. At least
ways, Al says we do.
Now it don't take much of nothin to get us Freetrappers interested when it
comes to shootin irons, but as the evenin wore on Al got into the
particulars of the more commonplace aspects of this militia life. Right
off the bat, he says we got to sign this "Charter" he got. Right impressive
thing it were too. Looked quite a bit like them treatys I think. I
figgered it was goin to be from the State House, but I don't know for sure
that was ever mentioned in all that fancy writin. Anyways, onct we'd all
signed up, he announced that this charter gave him the rank of Colonel and
commander of the Coyote County Militia Company - and that made all of us his
subordinates. Not too sure what that means, but the way he acts - I guess
it means he has a personal memo from God All Mighty. Says we gotta do what
he says and how he says it.... Seems like the Army all over again to me...
Cloyd did raise a right good point though. He thought we all should take a
vote on how to run the thing. Mr. Capon got a bit testy on that one: made
it clear that in order for us to properly defend democracy, there weren't
gonna be any dadblamed votin to speak of....
Oh my didn't he just go on and on. All sorts of them little nit pickin
details like lawyers are so fond of. Gotta have a table of organization.
Gotta have commissioned officers. Have to hire on one of the. publicity
outfits. Gotta have orgainzed drills and manuvers. Gotta live in tents and
eat cold undercooked vittles. And - by damn - we gotta salute him.....
Several of the boys took objection to a lot of this chicken scratch. But
like he says, "this is the militia, we're defendin democarcy, you ain't got
a vote...."
Deke offered up a perfectly good table, iffin we'd help him slicky
it away from his ex-wife. He didn't know just how "organized" it were,
but it dammed sure was a sturdy table, and we was welcome to use it any way
the militia wanted. And officers? Well we'd already had a belly full of
officers, but we most all allowed as how we probly needed a Surgeon
General. Hell, the Federals got one, so we might as well have one too.
Slack Jaw was all fer draftin this Hillary gal. Guess she is some kind of
authority on doctorin. Besides, she's got all these uniform kinda suits,
so's we wouldn't have to outfit her, just hang a bunch of rendezvous
medallions on her and it'd look about right. Now the choice of most of the
group was of course Doc Farqstartter; seem as how he was supposed to be a
real doc and all, and he was available - excepting Wednesdays and weekends
and eighteen annual holidays. That choice caused some grousin from Cloyd of
course, cause he ain't never forgive Doc for that slight he done to his
nanny goat that time. But by an large, we figgered Doc was the choice, just
in case we come up with problems on these manuevers. You get a bunch of
boys runnin around in the woods playin soljer, you near gotta expect a few
splinters and ditchins that might need a medic's attention. To say nothin
of the usual campfire casualties. Why shoot, I've seen many a man do a
"Flyin W" over the backside of a sittin log. Sometimes they'd even break the
jug.... Yep, it'd be proper to have a Surgeon General on call in any man's
militia. Ya just never can be too prepared you know. The onlyest
objection I have, is all that paperwork we have to go through to square the
deal with this College of Chiropractic as Doc calls it. Guess they don't
usually license combat medics to hear him tell it.
Now the general equipment weren't no
problem we thought. Most ever one had camp gear. Al held out at length for
Army surplus dirt floor tents, and fifty year old radios, and beat up old
alunium pans and such: but we finally convinced him the plains lodges and
Bakers were near as good even if they weren't a one that matched the other.
We'd even allow him to use that new fangled elecrtic day glow blue pop-m-up
lodge he can't bring to rendezvous, which gripes his soul somethin awful).
skinny allowed as how we wasn't to fret over any publicity. He'd just
explain our situation to his mother'nlaw and tell her to keep it right
quiet, military security and all why it'd be spread all over the state
quicker'n a coon whippin a young dog And radios? What we need with them
fifty pound sash weights? We send smoke, and we all know how to holler....
And near ever pickup truck has one of these CeeBee radidios in it.
Personally, I reckon he just wanted Army radios so's he could use that fancy
talk they have to have to make em work.
It were the matter of uniforms that got really got the assembly
up in arms. Mr. Al was mighty stout in his demands for reglar army turkey
huntin camyflage clothes. Now Slack Jaw don't hold with nothin concernin
uniform anything. Guess that were a sore spot with him clear back to the
time he was in the Army. Heap of bad memories there I take it. Thought for
a minute he was gonna slap old Al up side the head. Fortunately, Slack
wasn't none too steady on his feet at that moment - or on his knees either.
Ya see, Slack is sort of rough around the edges. Always looks kinda like he
walked by a ditch and the dirt jumped out and got em. He favors raggedy
pants and huntin shirts what are real hard to tell the true color of. Not
that he's poor for clothes you know. It's just that he don't hold with
replacin things until they wear out - or fall off. Some folks think Slack
looks about like he sorts bobcats for a livin.
Anyways, Bear Ash was in favor of buckskins, and Doc wanted joggin suits,
and Cloyd wanted bib overhauls, an so on, an
so on. Well, the upshot of all this carryin on was that we all disagreed to
wear whatever the devil we wanted as long as we didn't have to starch it or
press it or buy batteries for it......
I believe what really ended the evening (early morning)
discussion, was the matter of the mess hall. Now anyone with a particle of
sense knows an army marches on it's stomach; least that's what they keep
tellin the soljers. So's the matter of rations was of some keen interest to
all. Wasn't so much the provinder you know; for I reckon amongst The Group,
there would be no lacking for meat shootin. But when Al got around to
assignin cooks and KP, that was when the stuff really for sure hit the
fan.. It's one thing to cook yer own, and no man turns away a traveler from
his fire without offerin a bite to eat - but KP....? Nosir that just ain't
in the blood of a Freetrapper. I guess what really brought the show down,
was when Deke volunteered his missus to take care of the mess arrangements.
Now I reckon it wouldn't a been much of nothin, except Deke made such a brag
that he were obliged to make good on it. But then he up and staggers over
to the pickup and shakes the wife awake. Oh Lordy............. It has been
my considered observation over the years , that you best not wake up them
wimmen from a sound sleep 'less you got sometin serious to offer.. . That's
kinds like poken a
denned up grizzly bar. Uf course onct she heard what Deke had volunteered
her for, the wh6le show was over. I ain't
heard such screechin and hollerin since the lady schoolteacher found a
badger in her desk drawer Matter of fact, it reminded me some of a
turpintined dog'. Guess that were Deke though. She dammed near took all the
bark off him afore he could get away.... Then she come for us - meetin
adjorned.
Some days had passed, and odd members of The Group had
chanced to meet up here and there. Don't know that anything much had been
accomplished since the meetin, but it sure did provide a topic for a heap
of talk down at the combined gas station - feed store and billiards
emporium. Didn't sound like we's makin much progress to tell the truth.
Still didn't have no tents nor uniforms. Still didn't have no bullcook.
Matter of fact, we still didn't have no A-salt guns neither. Beginnin to
look like we didn't have much militia at all save for a Colonel and that
treaty paper we had to sign. And we had tried on several gun mechanics, but
weren't none of em had the wrenchs needed to work on them Chinese Chainsaws.
The future of the Coyote County Militia looked mighty dim indeed.
For a time there, we thought Bear Ash had come
up with a solution that would save our bacon. Now he's a right smart
blacksmith, and an engineer ( steamtrain) , and him bein a medicine chief
and all - well ya just gotta respect his abilities. He come up with this
idea he got off this cable TV thing. Gotta hand it to them Fugowee: They
are right smart in dealin with the goverment. They the onliest people in
the county with this cable TV stuff. Someone in the Bureau of Indian
Affairs and Porkbarrel Entitlements allowed as how they needed access to
more educational opportunities, so lickety split here come a sattelite dish
for the reservation. Guess when they flushed that outfit called NASA, all
that high tech stuff was to be junked. Someone figured out that if the
taxpayers originally paid 1.5 million dollars for this sattelite dish, then
they could salvage it and give it to the reservation for a measly quarter
million charged back to the taxpayers. Seems like a deal too good to pass
up to me. Well anyways, this is some humdinger of a dish. Big sucker too.
Near forty head of goats can rest in the shade of this thing. Powerful too.
Not only gets TV from them Rooshin sputniks, but the thing puts out somethin
called radiation that has taken care of the Fugowee population explosion
accordin to Bear Ash. Howsomever; he come across this Eyetalian broadcast
that had to do with A-salt weapons. Had him a hard copy of workin drawings
and everthing. Seems this gun mechanic and part time house painter feller
DaVinky whipped up this high capacity A-salt rifle for his boss. Looked
like something we could get along with. Onct Bear had sketched out the
general plan, it sure enough looked like a downhill pull from there. We
might get this militia thing Off the ground after all.
Wasn't long afore we struck a stump though. Bear allowed as how he needed
thirty muskets to work with. Tarnation, amongst all of us we didn't have but
a few muskets. Shake everthing up in a bag, and we couldn't muster but
maybe twenty-five shootin irons in various gauges and types Bad as I
hate to admit it, Mr. Al Capon came through for us again. Guess he knows
someone who knows the nephew of the chauffer what drives for this Washington
of DC big deal feller. Some nice Jewish flatlander name of Schummer I think
it was. I guess he has a line on a boatload of surplus muskets our
goverment give to Spain back about Nineteen and aught two and recently
bought back as a gesture of sound international trade and good will
and he's willing to cash them out a dime on the dollar. 'Course, we ain't
got much hard money in our warchest, and I reckon this Washington feller
ain't too much interested in groundhog pelts. But where there's a will -
there's a lawyer Al cut us a deal. I heard rumors, and I heard
stories, - and I figgered I didn't really want to know what sort of trade
took place - but we did get the muskets, and that's the important thing.
By-n-bye Bear did get our A-salt gun up and runnin, so we were officially in
the Militia business for sure. Matter of fact, we scheduled the first
monthly muster around the test firing of our weapon. well, it was quite a
circus I tell you. They had us all gather up in a bunch and stand
reasonable straight at attention while the officers saluted each other. Then
they saluted that Charter, and each other again, and then they saluted Mr
Schummer, and then they all decided they're arms was tired so we got to walk
around in circles and squares for a spell. Must have been quite a spectacle
for the crowd to see. Now for us, it was mostly a good deal uncomfortable.
You ever try to march a formation over plowed ground? How about standing
attention while a sweat bee crawls in yer ear? Shoot, they kept us standin
there so long the ticks made it clear up to our sash belts.... But, I
reckon it were generaly worth it, for eventually they got around to the
grand prize. We was all goin to get to see the A-salt gun test fired. I
suppose I should'a seem it comin. When they roped off the crowd back about a
hundred yards, I guess that should have give us a hint. Come to study on it,
I reckon they didn't trust that gun all that much.
But, we wasn't payin no never mind to practical
things. The sun was warm, the ladies were all decked out in their Sunday
skins, and we was proud as punch about them black sock caps. Bear did have
a mite of trouble in gettin the truck started right off. Guess I failed to
mention that. You see, we had to modify DaVinky's design a bit. Now you
gotta figger this thirty barrel musket goes about 400 pounds or so, and
there ain't no militia nowhere that
can carry around a critter like that..... So we commshawed a '52 Studebaker
truck to mount her on. Didn't look too bad either. Abe come up with some
Army surplus paint, so's it was all dressed up in this pale blue-green
genuine soljer paint. For all his raggedy looks, Slack is a fair hand at
printin so he lettered her up with all the Coyote County Militia signs .
Now she didn't run too good, and it was at times a real bearcat to get
started; but onct we wired up them four big diesel truck batteries to her,
it didn't matter much. She'd do near twenty miles an hour just on the
starter alone... Can't say I hold with the idea, but Mr. Al put them
whitewall tires on her too. It was an impressive piece of machinery I
reckon.
The Colonel had made us put up a bunch of targets all over
the primitive range . Claimed we had to learn to engage superior forces
utilizing cover and concealment, or sumsuch damfool thing. So we had a
whole batch of pasteboard targets all strung out in the woods, ready to
let'er rip....
Bear Ash backed that Studybaker around so's to properly
lay the guns onto the first set of "enemy", checked the caps, and announced
with a smart salute that he was more'n ready to get this hoedown started.
Mr. Al returned a right smart salute (onct he knocked off his sock cap, but
the next one was a goodin. . . ), and announced in a real genuwine parade
ground manner that Bear was to "Fire at Will". Bear looked a little
confused, but turned to his task anyway. The first volly went off without a
hitch. Tore the thunder out of a whole mess of them "enemy". Bear would
reach around the breech and fire two or three of them muskets at nearly the
same time - and went right on down the rows till ever gun come up empty. It
were a site I tell you. Must'a took near thirty minutes for all that powder
smoke to clear. And just like Al had ordered him - Old Bear was busy as a
beaver just stokin up them guns as fast as he could ram a ball. Al kept
yellin that he had to get the rounds per minute up a lot faster, so Bear
finally tied ever two or three triggers together with a long thong.
Whooeee - now that got the lead out.... Sounded kinda like a post shoot.
But you know them Officer types. Al wasn't to be satisfyed. More powder,
more shots, do it faster - this dadblamed thing is supposed to be an A-salt
gun....
Well by now we had all pitched in to help reload, and Bear was movin fer all
he was worth, even Doc got into the act and actually helped without askin
fer a signed release. But there is an end to all men's patience you know.
Finally Bear just up and wired all them thongs together into one big knot.
Next time Al wanted him to fire at this Will guy -Bear just let her all fly
at onct
From what I recollect of it - I do believe we managed to exceed that 600
shots a minute Al was campaignin for... and by a good margin! Guess the
Presibeterians at the meetin hall just over the crick enjoyed it too, fer
most of us seemed to hear a bunch of bells right after that. I think
Colonel Al was pleased for the most part, but it were some time before we
could get him to say much besides them Latin things lawyers are fond of when
they's tryin to get out from under somethin. Purty soon we found most of
them musket barrels (Bear is a right smart mechanical injuneer but he don't
weld for sour owl doo) And it didn't take much more' n an hour to get the
brush fires out, and in good time we did finally locate Bear Ash. He's out
at the pickup truck tryin to suck the bottom outta one of them jugs. Now I
don't claim to speak much Fugowee, but I got the drift that Bear ain't in no
humor to engage in any more rapid fire drills.... Least not until he grows
some hair back.
It was a grand day indeed, but I reckon if'n you shake it all up in a bag -
the Coyote County Militia came out on the short end of the stick. We lost
our Charter you know. Al took it with him, and last we heard he had that
Buick wound up an headed for Michigan. Well without that treaty, what was
we to do? Of course we didn't have an A-salt gun neither no more. They was
some small talk about tryin to call Mr Schummer for some more barrels - but
from what I hear, his office claimed he was a flake now - or a sellin
cornflakes - or some dammed thing. Anyhow he didn't have no more muskets
for trade and would we please not bother to call him no more... less'en we
had some real serious trade goods to offer. Since we's at the moment slap
out of lawyers and commissioned officers, I figgered we might as well get
ahold of this Attorney General they advertise so
highly. That was pretty much of a bust. Spent near't a day on the
telyphone afore I finally got this gal on the line. Right off, I decided
this was not the guy we needed. First off, this Attorney ain't no general -
not by a country Mile. This Missus Attorney Reno didn't know the first
blamed thing about Militia stuff. And then - this female ain't no lady
attorney or not.... I ain't never in my born days heard any lady talk like
....... What the devil would she have again the National Recovery
Administration? So like I said; I figger the whole deal was pretty much a
bust.
So's here we sit. No leadership, no tents to speak of,
no A-salt gun, all of Bear's jugs empty, and blamed near no powder and shot
left. Looked kinda like a long dry spell ahead for the Militia company.
Sorta come in with a whimper and went out with a bang, so to speak.
Guess it did sort of sober us up some though. Surely
weren't much pickin and grinnin around the fire that night for sure. About
three logs into the evenin, Doc stood up and announced he had the solution
Then he picked hisself up and leaned on a tree. Seems he had heard of
somethin called a Political Action Committee. Kinda like a Militia of
voters instead of shooters I s'pose. Wouldn't need no special Army surplus
gear. Didn't have to march and salute no more. We could even keep them
sock caps if'n we wanted. In fact 'bout the onlyest thing we had to have
was some gumption and a voter card. Seems that ever onct on awhile, they
put on a circus down at the Fire Stations, the schools, the State House,
and even at that Outhouse in D and C; and they vote on people to represent
the other people and make laws fer them.
Best of all, he said the Constitution we're all set to
defend, gives each man jack of us a vote. So we all get to have a say in
how we act a fool... Long as there ain't a shootin match gets in the way of
these elections, I believe this is a deal too good to pass up Only
problem I can see, is that to outvote them hippies we freetrappers has got
to outnumber 'em. Either that, or we got to buy more congressmen than they
do; and I understand them Senators look a bit down their nose at perfectly
good skins and beads.... Since we ain't flush with hard money, I don't
know fer sure how best to compete with them Liberals - it's said they have
got the finest politicians money can buy.....! But I do know this much: The
least work is the best idea. If'n we can take one day onct in awhile and
just do this votin thing; then that has got to be a heap easier than all
this marchin and salutin - an tryin to get them dammed chainsaws to shoot
So ends the chronicles of the regrettably short but honorably served
organization of the Coyote County Militia. Having come up with a suitable
solution to this temporary problem, we must move on to other such irritants
to our fellow man. I hear there is folks bein put out of jobs here just
so's that feller Slick can suck up to them Messicans...... And then
there's this other fruitloop over in Irack - this Saddam Hoser, what keeps
grabbin our boys and throwin rocks at all them nice people around
him........... Sounds tolerable like problems tailor made for the
Loose Group to study on I reckon.
Shinin times y'all
Kindly regards from all the Loose Group -
and "Two Blankets"
