James Rawles: Patriots

As Todd tried to get to sleep that evening, memories of the recent war came flooding back. Mary sat curled beside him on the bed, under a small twelve-volt DC halogen reading light—her usual evening habit. She was rereading one of her favorite novels, The Red and The Black, and nibbling on dried apple slices. Noticing that Todd wasn’t asleep, she asked, “What’s the matter, hon?”

“It was that film we saw today. It made me think of all the friends that we’ve lost since the Crunch. I really and truly miss them. It was quite a price to pay for our freedom. All over the country folks lost family in the Crunch, and then more in the war. And across the Atlantic Ocean, there are thousands more that lost sons in the war. The Europeans will hate our guts for at least a generation, maybe a lot longer.”

Mary closed her book with a loud thump and set it aside. “Let ’em hate us! If the ‘You’re-a-peons’ can’t stomach a sovereign and freedom-loving nation, then that’s their problem. I think that deep down they must envy us. We looked tyranny in the eye and said,‘No way. Your day is done, Mr. Tyrant. Adios .’ There’s nothing wrong with that, Todd! And we can be proud of our militia’s record.

There are no skeletons lurking in the closet. We didn’t shoot anybody that was trying to surrender. And today, as a nation, we can be proud that we liberated Canada and are supporting and supplying the resistance movements in Switzerland, and Finland, and Spain. We can do that with a clear conscience.”

Todd nodded his head, but the expression on his face showed that he was still concerned. Mary ran her fingers through Todd’s graying hair and said consolingly, “Our son Jacob is growing up in a free and God-fearing country.

That’s the bottom line.”A moment later she added, “And as for what happened during the war, we can’t change that. It’s fodder for the history books, and will be neatly analyzed by ‘Monday Morning Quarterbacks’ in more documentaries like the one we saw today. We can count on it.”

Todd sighed. “You’re right . I can’t go back in time and fix any of my mistakes. But I wonder if Jacob or our grandchildren will ever have to go through the same thing?”

Mary didn’t answer Todd for a full minute. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a clock on the bedside table. Finally, she said, “It’s in our fallen, sinful nature for tyrants to rise up in every nation. And unfortunately, it’s also in our nature that the vast majority in every nation is either too stupid or too apathetic to do anything about it until the tyrants have put up their barbed wire and spilled a lot of blood.

“Grandpa Krause liked to quote a stand-up comedian from back in the ’80s who said, ‘There are three kinds of people in this world: Those who make things happen; those who watch things happen; and those who just wonder what the heck happened? ’”

Todd nodded and chuckled at Mary’s quote. He had heard her recite it before, but under different circumstances.

Mary continued, in a more serious tone, “While most people were still wondering what the heck happened, we made something happen, Todd.”

Todd breathed, “Yes, we made it happen. And you’re right. Tyranny is a product of our sinful nature. Hopefully films like we saw today will be reminders that will keep people vigilant, so tyrants don’t spring up so often.

Thank God for our Constitution. It kept us from having to confront tyranny on our own soil for a lot longer than the average European. And hopefully now that it has been restored, we’ll have another two or three centuries of uninterrupted freedom. From now on, the Federal government is not going to be allowed to corner the market on coercive force. Far more force is being retained by the states, and by the people. That’s why we keep that APC out in the barn. And there are thousands of other APCs and tanks in private hands scattered all over the country. There may be more rough times ahead, but we’re ready for whatever might come. And when we go to God, we’ll go knowing that our children are prepared, too.” Todd stroked his hand across Mary’s belly, and smiled. It was beginning to swell with their second child. “We’ll raise them up solid. Just like us, they’ll have the faith; they’ll have the friends; they’ll have the skills; and they’ll have the tools they need to pull through.”

Mary smiled and kissed Todd. She reached up and switched off her reading light. She whispered, “I love you darling.”

“I love you too. With all my heart.” He was soon asleep. And he slept well.

Twenty-seven years after the Crunch, and five years after the liberation of Europe, Kevin Lendel’s middle son had just started his freshman year at Boston College. At the end of the first week of the fall semester, Solomon Michael Lendel stood near the front of a lecture hall before his physics class started, chatting about the Olympic games. One of his classmates bragged of traveling to see the games in England, and was recounting his experiences. They were the first Olympic games since before the Crunch, and were still a big topic of conversation. Sol had watched part of the games on television.

A buzzer announced the start of class, and the Tektronix MPEG-3 teleconferencing monitors automatically switched on. On a row of monitors, students at three remote classrooms could be seen and heard, via the fiber-optic system.

As Sol took his seat in the front row, his coat flapped open briefly. One of the students standing near him went pale when she noticed that he was carrying a pistol in a shoulder holster. She shouted, “He’s got a gun! He’s carrying a concealed weapon! That’s not allowed on campus!”

The professor gave a stern look. He said, “Son, take off your coat.” Sol flushed and stood up again. He did as he was told, revealing a well-worn XD .45 pistol and a counter-balancing pair of spare loaded magazines in a hand-crafted shoulder holster. The leather rig was tooled in a floral Heiser renaissance pattern.

There was an anxious pause while everyone in the classroom stared silently, wondering what would happen next.

The professor cleared his throat. “Young lady, this gentleman is not carrying a concealed weapon. I can see it as plain as day .” There were roars of laughter.

“But…” she protested weakly.

The professor motioned with his hand, enunciating, “Take your seat, son.”

Sol tossed his sheepskin coat across the back of his chair, sat down, and opened his notebook.

The professor interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on the podium. He continued, “There is no University policy on the carrying of firearms, whether concealed or not. Nor should there be. Granted, open carry of guns has gradually gone out of style in the big cities these last few years. There isn’t much crime in the streets these days. However, this young gentleman’s choice to carry a gun—for whatever reason he chooses—is his own. He is a Sovereign Citizen and sui juris . The state has no say in the matter. It is strictly an individual choice, and a God-given right. The right to keep and bear arms is an absolute, secured by the Bill of Rights. I should also remind you that it is one of the main reasons we spent four horrendous years fighting the Second Civil War. How quickly we forget. Now let’s get on with class, shall we?”

10/22:A semiautomatic .22-rimfire rifle made by Ruger.