William Johnstone - Phoenix Rising

“Whoa!” Jake said, leaning forward. “What did he just say?”

“He said he is bringing all the troops back home.”

“And do what with them? Where are they going to go?” Jake asked.

“I guess that means I won’t ever make it to Germany,” Karin said.

“That is pure insanity,” Jake said. “If this is the first thing he does, where do we go from here?”

Karin picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “I am getting concerned about you. I’m afraid that you are going to get so mad watching this guy that you may well have an intracerebral hemorrhage.”

“A what?”

“A stroke. It is my medical recommendation that we forget about him and go out for dinner.”

“You’re right. Even if I don’t have a stroke, watching this commie bastard is going to make my head explode,” Jake said. “We’ll go out, but I choose.”

“What do you mean, you choose? I’m the one who suggested we go out.”

“That’s just it. You suggested it,” Jake replied. “That’s like being challenged to a duel; the one challenged gets to choose the weapons. In this case the one invited to go out gets to choose the restaurant.”

“I’ve never heard that. Is that some Amish rule?”

“Don’t be silly, I never ate in a restaurant in my life until I was an adult. It’s just the rule of common sense. You made the suggestion we go out, I get to choose where we go.”

“Don’t tell me,” Karin said. “You are going to choose Bubba’s All-You-Can-Eat Catfish Heaven, aren’t you?”

“It is a great place, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, it’s just wonderful,” Karin said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m glad you like it too,” Jake said, purposely disregarding her sarcasm as he reached for his car keys.

“Jake, have you ever thought of maybe going to a quieter, more traditional restaurant where they have real silverware, elegant crystal, fine china, good wine, and maybe a strolling musician? You know. Something romantic?”

“You know what is romantic?” Jake asked.

“What?”

“Catfish fried golden brown, steaming-hot hush-puppies, a plate full of French fries liberally doused with hot sauce, a side of sliced onion, a dill pickle spear, and an ice-cold root beer.”

“How can you possibly say something like that is romantic?”

“Because it is beautiful,” Jake said. “And isn’t romance supposed to be beautiful?”

“You are incorrigible.”

“Not really. I’m just hungry,” Jake replied as held the door open for her.

She laughed. “All right, Bubba’s All-You-Can-Eat Catfish Heaven it is, then.”

The restaurant was noisy and filled with customers, many of whom were soldiers from Fort Rucker. Half a dozen waiters scurried among the tables carrying trays upon which there were platters piled high with fried fish. Over in one corner a group of soldiers were doing their rendition of “All Out of Love,” the singing discordant and loud.

“You wanted music,” Jake said, nodding toward the table of singing soldiers. “You’ve got music.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. You think of everything,” Karin said.

“I try.”

“Any aftereffects from your incident yesterday?” Karin asked.

Jake took a swallow of root beer before he answered. “He tried to kill me, you know.”

“What? Who tried to kill you?”

“The flight student I had yesterday. Oh, he might pretend that those geese hit us, but I know better. He went out looking for them. Every student I have ever had has tried to kill me. Oh, yeah, they all say they are just making honest errors, but I know better. I sincerely believe that it is a conspiracy.”

“I’m sure it is. A left-wing conspiracy, no doubt,” Karin said. “Every flight student you have ever had has been a part of the left-wing conspiracy.”

“That’s true. But it isn’t just the flight students. I mean, think about this. Ever since I got my wings, people have been trying to kill me. Did you know that in Iraq and Afghanistan, they were actually shooting at my helicopter?”

Karin laughed. “As I recall, you were flying an Apache while you were in Afghanistan, and doing quite a bit of shooting of your own. You didn’t get your Distinguished Flying Cross for making sightseeing trips.”

“Still, you would think they would have more respect for a disparate collection of oscillating parts that, somehow, manage to levitate.” Jake held up his right hand to call one of the harried waiters over, even as he was using his left to push another piece of fried catfish into his mouth.

“We’ll need another platterful,” he said when the waiter came over.

“We don’t need another whole platter unless you are going to eat them all yourself. I’m absolutely stuffed,” Karin said.

“No sweat, I’ll eat them.”

“Do you ever fill up?”

“Eventually,” Jake answered.

CHAPTER THREE

Monday, January 23

Major General Clifton von Cairns, the commandant of Fort Rucker, used one of the larger classrooms to have an officers’ call for all department, division, and section chiefs to talk about the troops that would be returning to the States. He admitted, during the meeting, that he had no idea what this would portend. The problem would be in finding billets for all of them.

“We don’t have space for them, not in our CONUS TO and E units, and not in our training commands. Department of Army has asked every post commander to inventory their facilities with an eye toward absorbing the influx.”

“General, will we be able to handle such an increase ?” a colonel asked.

“Yes, of course. We had much larger numbers of troops in garrison during World War Two. Of course, we also had a lot more military posts then. The problem now is that since BRAC, so many posts have been closed down in the last several years that it is going to make it difficult.”

“How long has DA known about bringing all the troops back to CONUS?” another colonel asked. “What I mean is, why didn’t they give us prior warning?”

General von Cairns looked at the colonel with an expression that mirrored his frustration. “Colonel Haney, from what I was told by the Army chief of staff this morning, Department of Defense learned about this at the same time we did: when the president announced it during his inaugural address.”

Monday, February 27

Hello, America. George Gregoire here.

In his inaugural address, Mehdi Ohmshidi stated his intention to bring back to the United States every uniformed American stationed overseas. Well, he has done that. So, let’s take a look at what has happened.

All military training in America has come to a complete halt. The bases are overcrowded. There is no place to put the returning military, not in any training capacity, nor in any operational unit. Morale has sunk to an all-time low as officers and men report to work daily, but with no real work to do.

And what has happened overseas ? With America’s withdrawal from NATO, all NATO operations have come to a halt. Terrorism has increased in Europe, and in the Middle East.

Since 1945, U.S. troops in Korea have helped support the South Korean military, providing the security needed to lift that country from the third world to one of the economic giants of the world. But with the withdrawal of American troops, North Korea has become much more adventurous, last week sinking two South Korean fishing vessels and, just yesterday, penetrating the buffer zone that separates the two countries and killing three South Korean border guards.

But it isn’t just Ohmshidi’s foreign policy that is failing. Let me ask you this. How is this universal program of shared wealth working out for you ?