Chapter 20
Independent Boise Militia
Carson Taylor looked out his window
at the night sky. His caravan was driving down the empty I-84 freeway. The only
light he could see was coming from the dropping of bombs around the Boise
metropolitan area. Occasionally he was able to catch the light from tracer
rounds coming from the aircraft flying overhead. The air strike had been a
success against Boise and Mountain Home, but some planes were still able to get
off the ground. Taylor was able to take solace in the fact that those few
planes that did leave the runways were still heavily outnumbered by the Oregon
Air Force. The planners of this invasion were proven correct in their estimates
in that the US would leave Idaho fairly unprotected, despite even the fact of
the state being directly on the border with the ROC.
Looking ahead Taylor was able to
glowing orange light. “Hey Bill do you see that?” he said to the driver of his
Humvee.
“Yes sir. I see it. Can’t quite make
out what it is just yet.”
“Not sure myself. I have a thought,
but won’t know for sure until we are close enough.” Lt. Taylor got on his radio
calling to the lead Humvee, “Private Reed.”
After a bit of white noise Reed
answered back, “Yes sir, Lieutenant.”
“Do you have a visual on that light
in front of us?”
“That’s a positive sir. Looks like a
fire in the middle of the road.”
“Damn. That’s what I was afraid of.
Do you see any way we can go around it?”
“It doesn’t look like sir. We can
have a look around when we get to it.”
Taylor
put his radio down, “Nothing ever just goes to plan during a battle. Bill, do
you have an alternate route for me?
“Yes
sir. If we can't get around that fire, then we can take the 20. It’ll be little
longer, but we still get to our destination,” said Bill. The ROC caravan pulled
up to the fire which turned out to be a burning car. “Sir, looks like this poor
soul tried to get the hell out of dodge and didn’t make it. But why aren’t
there cars looking this way all over the place?”
“Well
rumor has it that the US has the border states in a lockdown state. The people
that were left inside the cities were probably too scared to leave. Scared of
trying to make the trip to California. Scared of running to a state further
east in case someone got wind that they broke the curfew. These people were
caught between a rock and a hard place.” Taylor inspected the wreckage. “This
poor fella just wanted a little freedom I bet. Just too bad he was a day too
late.”
“Sir.
I think we are going to have to use that alternate route we got.” The
lieutenant walked around the wreckage to where Bill was now standing. He looked
ahead and saw most of the freeway in front of him was gone.
“Well
Private Reed, do you see any way around now?”
“That’s
a negative sir.” Reed said with a smirk.
“Well
we ain't making any head way just standing around looking. Let’s get our asses
onto that alternate route. We have a city to secure.” The caravan loaded back
up and continued on their way to Boise.
The
caravan continued on its way for a little while longer until they were ready to
knock on the door step of Boise. They were close enough that Taylor was able to
see some of the remaining lights of the city. But something that he saw also
confused him. He could see flashes of light in the distant. Not just any flashes
of light, but the flashes that usually come along with tracer rounds from gun
fire. But that would be near impossible. His platoon was the lead in the
invasion. There were no other troops ahead of them. It just wasn’t possible for
there to be other troops ahead of them. Taylor chalked it up to his own nerves
and the dark and light playing tricks on him.
Taylor
took his eyes off of the city and took a glance at the lead Humvee. Taylor had
led his men to opposition free run onto the steps of Boise. Just when that
thought crossed his mind a quick flash of light came from the near distance.
And another split second later, the lead Humvee exploded into a ball of fire.
“Holy shit! Reed!” Lt. Taylor screamed as his own Humvee came to a screeching
halt. Machine gun fire rattled the vehicle as the Californian soldiers answered
with fire of their own. As the scene was just about to settle down, another RPG
shot through the darkness. This one taking out the back of the caravan.
“Ambush! Perimeter. Set up defensive positions.” Taylor yelled orders to anyone
that could hear him and over the radio communications with the rest of his
platoon.
The
fight pushed Taylor and his men away from their vehicles and away from the
heavy machine guns in them. Taylor took cover around the corner of a nearby
building. The platoon was in a very tough situation. They were on the wrong
side of this fight. They had to take the defensive approach, and had to do so
without much cover. The Americans were able to hide behind entrenched
positions. They had been there waiting for anyone to come along. Taylor just
chose the wrong street at the wrong time. But there was no time to worry about
that.
“Bill.
We won’t last too long just sitting here. The Americans have the high ground and
the entrenchment.” Bullets whizzed by the corner.
“Of
course sir. What are we going to do?”
“We
need to find a way to break their position. We need to do it. Without us, the
Boise invasion will more than likely fail. Our operation was to punch that hole
in the American line and make it easier for the heavy infantry to move through.”
Taylor wiped the sweat from his brow. “We are not going to die just sitting
here. We are going to give them a fight. But we ain’t going to just give
ourselves up. We’re going to give us a chance. Bill, I need the mortar men.”
“Yes
sir.” Bill got on the radio to call over the mortar team.
“We
need just enough mortar fire to give us a chance. Strike at their positions,
make them weak and confused. Give us a chance to live to see the end of this
war.” Taylor said as the mortar team arrived. Mortars were placed. “On my mark.
We send the explosives, and then we take the offensive back. Ready. Fire at
will”
“Fire
in the hole,” a mortar team member yelled. The strike took a fair sized chunk
out of the American position and gave Taylor’s men just enough of an
opportunity to fight back. Initially Taylor was able to lead his men back, but was
still unable to capitalize. The Americans regrouped and pushed the Californians
back in their cover.
“That
was our shot. We are going to need our bigger guns to break this line.”
Just
then a voice came over the radio, “Lt. Taylor, give your position.”
“Give
the order,” he answered back.
“Alpha
3-9.” The voice answered. Taylor gave his position to the Californian on the
other side.
“Why
do you need our position?”
“I
heard you may be needing a miracle.” And then from a nearby street came the
sound of tank’s heavy fire. Then came another shot. Then multiple simultaneous
shots. Tank fire and machine gun fire filled up the audible air. Taylor was
able to get a glance at one of the tanks as they rolled by a cross-street
parallel to the one he was at. He caught the glint of the dark grey blue of the
Californian tank. Taylor recognized them. They were the T5 tanks nicknamed the
Terminators, named after the movie character made famous by a former actor
turned governor of California. The Terminators were a light speed tank. Smaller
than an Abrams battle tank, the Terminators were lightly armored which made
them able to move much faster than their heavier brethren. Reminiscent of the
speed of World War II Panzers, Terminators were built with urban warfare in
mind. Built to move through the streets of a city with speed and ease. This
tank squadron was now pushing their way through the American positions.
With
the Terminator tanks now leading the charge, Taylor was finally able to get his
men back to their Humvees. The men loaded back up and joined the tanks as their
finally entered the city proper. With the tanks along their side, the ROC was
able to move along the streets of Boise and being securing locations around the
city.
As
Taylor made his way closer and closer towards the campus of Boise State
University, the ultimate end goal, he sent a few scouts up ahead of his
movements. Taylor was curious to know if he and his men would face any stronger
resistance on their way to the college. Aside from that initial skirmish on the
city outskirts, Taylor had not seen many more soldiers within the city limits.
He could tell many of them were Idaho National Guardsmen. They were in full US
Army gear, so he couldn’t tell for sure, but as a fellow Guardsman he could
just tell. He could tell the type of training they received and the types of
tactics that they were following. Seemed to him that the US government didn’t
want to spend too many causalities in defending something they viewed as
insignificant. The US may not have viewed Idaho as important, but California
viewed important enough to launch their first strike at an invasion of the
state.
After
moving through the city smoothly, Carson was now very close to his destination.
It was at this time that one of his scouts returned with some of the
intelligence he gathered. ‘Well, do you have anything?”
“Yes
sir. I think I have something that you going to want to see with your own eyes.”
The young scout told his lieutenant.
“What
do you mean I have to see it with my own eyes? What is it? What did you see
kid?”
“A
fire fight sir. Near the Boise State campus.”
“Near
the college? But that is impossible.”
“Saw
it clear as day sir.”
“But
there isn’t anyone that far ahead. We are the forward company. You are looking
at the front line right here.”
“Well
someone beat us to it then.”
“And
you said fire fight?”
“Yes
sir. Saw two clear positions. Both firing on one another. Saw an American flag
near one. Couldn’t quite make out the flag of the other.”
“Ya
I think that you’re right. I am going to have to see this one for myself.” The
scout brought Taylor to an observation position he had used when he first spotting
the fight.
“Just
over there sir. Just along the river and off the campus.”
Taylor
looked through the sights of the binoculars. Sure enough he could make out two
clearly defined defensive positions. He could see one position with an American
flag. The other one, which was closer to the university, was flying a different
flag. Taylor was able to recognize it as the Idaho state flag, only this one
had a slight modification. This flag had a Boise State bronco hastily painted
over the flag. Taylor took note and thought the flag a peculiar sight.
Taylor
looked over at his scout, “Get on the com. Give them the position of the
American defenses. We’re going to flank them. Tell them to leave the other
position alone. They’ll be handled later.” No later than had he given the
order, did Taylor hear the first mortar rounds begin to fall on the American
position. Taylor remained in his observation perch, commanding the battlefield
from above like the 18th century general. The Americans were taken
by the surprise. Don’t know how much of a shock it could have been. If they
were competently trained they should’ve known that the ROC was in the city, and
that they should’ve given up on this rag tag fighter group. The Nevada platoon
and the tank squadron were able to quickly overrun the Americans.
Now
with the Americans pushed aside, Taylor was left to continue his investigation to
figure out who were these other fighters. Taylor brought the binoculars back up
to his eyes. He peered out to the Bronco flag position. Waving next to the
Bronco flag, Taylor could make out a plain white flag. “They are surrendering?
Wow, that was easy,” he chuckled. The lieutenant sent out an envoy to meet with
the surrendering fighters. A couple minutes later the envoy returned with news
that they wanted to have a commanding officers’ meeting.
Carson
Taylor walked across the decimated city streets. He was flanked on both sides
by one of his soldiers. He walked up as the opposing officer was doing the
same, being flanked in the same manner. Taylor looked the man over. He thought
to himself that the man looked like he had stepped straight out of apocalyptic
movie or one of those Tom Clancy video games that his dad used to play. When he
and the other man were finally face to face Taylor said, “My name is Carson
Taylor, Lieutenant, Californian Army, 1st Nevada Mountain Division.”
The
other officer answered, “I am Kellen Snider, Captain, Independent Boise
Militia.”
“Independent
Militia?”
“Yep.
I fancy ourselves freedom fighters. My men and I don’t exactly see eye to eye
with the Federal government. We took it upon ourselves to create a militia
granted to us by the 2nd amendment of the Constitution.”
“So
you are civilians?”
“Some
of us yes. Some were Idaho National Guardsmen who refused to be called up to
the Army. Some are Army veterans. Some were active duty military until they
went ‘AWOL’. I, myself, was a Captain for the Boise Police Department. But we
all just wanted to defend our homes. Decided if the Army won’t do it then we
will.”
“How
did you find yourselves in a fire fight with the Americans then?”
“We
were actually prepared to fight you guys. After hearing the Army wasn’t going
to send any additional troops to the state, we decided we would defend at least
Boise. Ended up fighting with the US Army when they tried to give us orders and
disperse our group. We in Idaho are a stubborn bunch. And we weren’t going to
just let them take away our Constitutional right. And that’s when we got into
the fight. Then after a while you guys showed up. We didn’t want to fight you,
just defend our homes.”
“Understandable.
Well I can let you know that California sees Idaho very differently. We see it
as very much a place that needs and deserves protecting.”
“Glad
to hear that. Haven’t heard much anything like that for a while.”
Taylor
satisfied in what he has seen and heard from the militia leader told him of the
plan to set up headquarters at Boise State.
“Well
I think you are just in luck. That is where we have been holed up for the past
couple weeks. We’ve set up our own HQ.” Captain Snider led the way as the
militia, Taylor, and the ROC troops followed behind. He led the group back to
the campus of Boise State and led them to the Communications Studies building. “This
is our HQ. This is our radio room which is our way of communicating with our
resistance groups across the state.”
Carson
took a quick look around. “Stuff looks a little bit dated.”
“Best
we could do. The equipment is either the school’s or stuff that the guys have
brought from their own homes.”
“Well,
let me show you something.” Taylor looked around towards his troops. “Hey Tom.
Get over here and get set up.” A short, geeky looking soldier made his way forward.
Tom quickly got to work pulling out his state-of-art field communication tools.
“Tom here is our com guy. He’ll have this place running twice as fast and twice
as efficient in no time.”
“Wow.
Didn’t know you have such spiffy equipment out in the field. Well, Lt. Taylor
if you and your men want to set up your HQ here you are more than welcome. I
feel you will do a better job at defending the state than the US Army did.”
“Thank
you Captain Snider.” Taylor said while shaking his fellow officer’s hand. “I
don’t think it’ll be too hard to find a place amongst our ranks for you and the
Independent Boise Militia.”
