napalm canisters and ignited. The halon fire suppression on those three tanks failed to
contain the flames. Fred’s tank was the first to go. Two more of the five tanks burst into
flames and exploded.
“We’re under attack. It’s a trap.” One of the remaining tank commanders radioed.
“No one told us there would be resistance,” the other commander radioed back.
“We didn’t sign up for this. This is a game changer. Fuck them all.”
The two remaining tanks stopped, jettisoned their napalm canisters and began
to pull back. The gunners kept the turrets sweeping back and forth shooting in a random
fashion. All the POWs had disappeared. There was no small arms fire. The only sound
was the whoosh of flames leaping from the burning armor, the occasional rounds cooking
off followed by the stench of petrol based fluids, rubber and eventually cooked flesh.
Not every soldier felt that way the commanders did. Some had family in those
camps. They kept their mouths shut. It was a job.
CHAPTER V, Peter
Peter stood in front of a small group of oldies. They were in the basement of a
small building in an undisclosed and shielded location. All of the oldies were armed.
Many were former military too. Peter had shown them a video of the battle with the
tanks. He also knew who commanded the lead tank.
“Gentlemen and ladies,” he said. “This is how we can stop them, if only for a
while. We will have to acquire better weapons and find people on the outside we can trust
to help us. We will need their support. The state has a near monopoly on force. But if we
just lie down...” he let it rest. He knew his history.
Peter was interrupted. “Why are you, a young man with promise, assisting us?
We’re old and...”
Peter put his hand up to stop him. He said, “A religious man was my first teacher,
No I take that back, my Grammy was. She taught me things most people today never
learn. I read all the old papers of state. I studied the history of the Republic that came
before this one and of its battles. I know what’s right. And I know of others who feel the
same way” He was interrupted again.
“Your Grammy?” someone asked. There was some laughter in the room.
“Yes, my Grammy,” he said smiling and tears running down his face. There were
chuckles throughout the room, and nods in his direction.
Holy Grammy Pt. I