Jernigan's War (27 page)

“I guess they almost got me, again. I need to get my four-wheeler, run down to my camp and bring all my ammo and gear back up.”

Butch asked, “Do you have any more ammo for the AK47’s?”

“I sure do, I’ll bring it back with me and see you back here tomorrow. Now, if you can take me back across the river, I’d appreciate it.”

Butch dropped him off on the other side of the river and one of the other Ferriday boys gave him a ride to where his four wheeler was hidden. Dix cranked it up and made the run down to the old home place. He felt safe there so he spent the night in the bamboo grove again. The same nightmares haunted him and once again he woke depressed and profoundly sad. He packed up all the gear, guns and food and tied everything down. He made one last walk down to the old cypress tree. He wanted to firmly set its memory in his mind so that he would never forget it.

He climbed on the four-wheeler and headed for town. The knobby tires on the four-wheeler were starting to show wear from all the time on paved roads. He would have to start looking for a new set or a set from another four-wheeler when he had the opportunity. He met Butch where he said he would the day before. Dix handed him seven AK47’s and a large pile of loaded magazines for them.

“How many have you killed since you’ve been over here?”

“I quit counting while I was still in Gulfport. These are just the guns and ammo I picked up that I didn’t have to pack very far. I know where there are three or four more with ammo if you need them.”

“Ammo is the main thing we need.”

“We’ve been in touch with Captain Miller,” Butch continued, “The Chinese have picked up reinforcements and will probably cross the Calcasieu River today. A nuclear bomb went off at Fort Hood. We think that our communist President gave up the nuclear command codes. Constitution forces had secured 95% of
the nukes right away; but, we think this one came in on a cruise missile from a ship in the Gulf.”

“It sounds like they have redirected the invasion to Houston.”

Butch grinned, “Word is that they abandoned New Orleans when the river was blocked.”

Butch and Dix were suddenly interrupted by paratroopers filling the sky and landing south of town. The question was: which side did they belong to?

Dix motioned to Butch, “Hop on.” They drove over the levee and into the willows next to the river. Dix strapped the Springfield on the rack, put on Jake’s AR15 and picked up the two magazine pouches that contained six thirty round mags each. He already had the pack loaded. He took out the 30-06 ammo and returned it to the ammo can. There was no use carrying the extra weight.

He and Butch made a quick run to the top of the levee. The sky was still raining paratroopers. Dix looked through his binoculars and to his horror realized that they were Chinese. Constitution forces would not be packing AK47’s. Dix asked Butch, “Do we have any allies that would be coming in to save us?”

Butch shook his head, “I think our odds just changed and not for the better. I’m going to order our men to make a run for it.”

Butch got on the radio and told the Americans what was taking place and to fall back into their former guerilla positions. The battle had changed back to guerilla warfare just as it had been up until yesterday.

“Damn it Butch, I wished I hadn’t brought my gear up from my camp. At least they are on foot like we are. I wonder if they realize they are boxed in by the rivers and blown bridges?”

The Chinese troops secured the small local airport and started receiving parachutes that were landing heavy equipment. They quickly joined up with the Chinese in town. For the first time since everything started Dix was uncertain as to what he should do. He and Butch went back down the levee and melted into the willows along the river. The Chinese set up sentries within sight of one another up and down the levee.

“I can kill all of them within sight of us with the Springfield. I wonder if we can cross the river in your boat with my gear.”

Butch drawled, “We could, if the boat was on this side, it’s on the other side of the river, and the men who took it aren’t coming back.”

“Well then, I suggest we just park our butts on this river bank until dark. We can try swimming the river after dark or we can slip out of here on the four-wheeler after dark. Now if you’re in a hurry to start fighting, we can start shooting from here and just fight our way south to open country. But I’m almost certain that this four-wheeler and the trailer will float. If we can wait until dark, we can slip into the water and float across or we can float downstream for a mile or so and get out.”

“I don’t see where we’ve got a choice, Dix. I don’t want to take on a bunch of fresh troops right now.” They sat quietly keeping their eyes on the two sentries closest to them.

As soon as it was dark they bumped the four-wheeler out of gear and eased it out into the river. It floated as planned and they hung on each side and steadied it so that it wouldn’t tip over. They silently drifted downstream in the shallows. They could see the sentry’s silhouetted on top of the levee as they silently drifted down the river. The water was cold and they were soon shivering uncontrollably. Fortunately the river was up just above its natural banks and they were able to stay in the shallow water.

Dix cranked the four-wheeler and it climbed out of the water with the trailer behind it. They climbed on and Dix headed back to his camp at the old home place. He and Butch drove back into the bamboo thicket and disappeared. Dix soon had a hot fire and in no time had his camp re-set up. He hung the tarp and using paracord had their clothes drying on it around the fire. They were out of radio range so all they could do was wait at this point. Dix cleaned his guns and inventoried his ammo and weapons. He still had over 500 rounds of 30-06 and a full combat load for Jake’s AR15 and his 9MM. He topped off the gas tank in the four-wheeler. There wasn’t going to be a lot of sightseeing taking place, unless he captured some more fuel.

That night they opened a fifth of bourbon, passed it back and forth and talked of times past and dead friends. Dix said, “If I survive this war, which is highly unlikely, I plan to buy this place back and come home.”

Butch reminded him, “There’s a good chance that nobody owns this place anymore. They estimate that 75% of our population is dead.”

They dozed by the fire and the morning came. They ate a couple of MRE’s for breakfast and loaded up. The sun was almost peeping over the horizon when they headed out. They were on foot as stealth was the order of business today. Dix led them back through the old pecan grove between the bayous behind the old homestead. They walked out behind Jones Bayou, across the road and north to town. They had an eight mile walk and it would take hours to get back. They couldn’t walk down the road on top of the levee because they would be sitting ducks out in the open.

Butch carried his AK47 and the battle gear he was packing from the day before. Dix carried his Springfield; he realized that in open country fighting, the need for extreme long range accuracy was preferable to raw firepower. Jake’s AR15 was better for urban fighting where you would be engaging moving targets less
than 300 yards away. Dix was not a young man, and he didn’t have speed and agility on his side, but he was in top physical shape for his age. All these weeks in the field had taken all the fat off his body. He would hate to see his blood pressure readings; he had run out of his medicine months ago.

About three miles from town they spotted the first Chinese patrol. Just south of Jonesville a road cut back to the west. The road made a meandering circled around and went back to the highway west of town. Dix and Butch sat back in the cotton field and watched as the patrol turned and walked down the road.

“Do you think we should try and kill them, Dix?”

“Let’s see if you can raise your men on the radio first.”

Butch keyed the microphone on the radio, “Is anybody listening this morning, this is Butch.”

A voice came back, “We thought you were dead.”

“Almost froze to death, but I’m still alive, where do we stand?”

Butch whispered to Dix, “That’s my cousin, Carl.”

“Everybody made it out last night. We are in our original campsites. The Chinese flew in heavy equipment out on Alexandria highway, repaired the bridge on that end and are getting ready to break out.”

“Have you notified Captain Miller, Carl?”

“Yes, he said not to stop them, they have something planned. He wants us to regroup after they’ve left and prepare to repel them if they come back.”

“Evidently,” Dix thought, “they were going to hit them with something or they were going to blow the bridges at Alexandria.”

“Butch, I’m heading back to camp and then to my boat to clean up and rest for a few days. I could use another five gallons of gas if you can round some up and you can help me float the four-wheeler across the river when I get back here.”

Dix turned and headed back to camp. Once again he loaded up and headed back to town. When he arrived Butch had him a can of gas and the fishing boat was back on the Jonesville side of the river.

“They all pulled out about an hour ago, I’m going to let you drop me off in Ferriday on your way back.”

Butch and Dix floated the four-wheeler and trailer across with the help of the aluminum boat and outboard motor and made the run back to Ferriday. Dix topped off the fuel and headed back to the boat camp.

Old Man Beagle Boyer couldn’t believe his eyes, “Hot damn, I can’t believe what I’m seeing; the stories coming from the battle were something. We lost a lot of people.”

Dix nodded, “They lost more.”

Ben and Frank knocked him off his feet and covered him up. “What you been feeding these boys?”

The old man laughed, “Lots of catfish, and don’t make the mistake of cooking pancakes, they are the two biggest beggars that has ever been born.”

Dix climbed on board the catamaran and kicked on the engine long enough to top off the batteries. He fired up the hot water heater and took a much needed and well deserved shower. He shaved his face and head clean. He put his clothes in a cut off plastic barrel that Beagle had on the dock. He dumped some detergent in and let them soak. He put on fresh clothes from the catamaran and boiled a pot of rice. He dumped some spaghetti
sauce on top and stirred it up. Beagle came out with some fried catfish and they had a feast. Dix needed calories. One MRE a day was not enough to maintain a man in the field. Dix asked the old man, “What happened when the Chinese came across out of Natchez?”

“The Chinese made a run through Vidalia. They killed a few people who got in the way and a few people who didn’t. Then the ruling Communist in Natchez felt it was time to extend their jurisdiction to this side of the river. They started to try and collect a toll from everybody this side of Ferriday. They left Ferriday alone because Butch’s people were still running the show.”

“Have they been by here?”

“They’re charging me 50 lbs of catfish a week,” Beagle grumbled.

“How many show up to do the collecting and what time do they normally arrive?”

“There are three of them, one who does the talking and two standing around with AK47’s. They stop by here last thing in the afternoon every Wednesday, I think they have a fish fry after their political meeting. They even make me clean them.”

Dix started thinking, “What kind of vehicle will they be in?”

“They’ll drive up in a 4X4 Red Dodge pickup with four doors. They put all the crap they steal in the back. They’ll have an ice chest for the fish. All I have to do is fill it up with fillets.”

“Do they all get out at the same time?”

“Yea, they aren’t worried about me putting up a fuss; they put the guns on me as soon as they get here.”

“How deep is the water under the catamaran, Beagle?”

“It drops off to about 20 feet.”

Dix nodded, “Well, at least I can sleep late in the morning.” He cleaned his weapons and reloaded all the magazines.

The next morning they ate a good breakfast and Dix said, “Let’s put Ben and Frank in the catamaran out of the way. When they arrive I’ll be waiting out of sight behind that old boat. You give them the fish. When they get in the truck and turn it around, I’ll kill them where they sit. They will be facing the other direction and will never know what hit them.”

The day went as planned. Dix locked the pups up in the catamaran about 3:00 o’clock. He set up over by the old boat with Jake’s AR15 and his magazine pouch containing six thirty round mags. He also had his Browning 9mm.

They arrived on schedule, a small man with braids and two huge guys with AK47’s. They hopped out and called to Beagle, “Old man, fill it up, next week the tax is going up, we’re going to need two ice chests full, we’re having a party.” Beagle filled the ice chest and they told him to put it in the back. Beagle struggled with the heavy chest but got it loaded. The biggest gunman shoved him and he fell on his back in the dirt. Dix watched as they got in and turned the truck around. As soon as they dropped it into drive, he opened up on them. He ran all thirty rounds through the cab and through the occupants. The driver hit the gas and the truck headed off toward the levee. It hit the levee, made it about half way up before it stopped and rolled back to the bottom. Dix walked over the truck and turned it off. The little one with the braids was still alive. Dix shot him through the head. He pulled the big man out from behind the wheel. He and Beagle went through the truck and saved anything of value including the catfish. He also drained the gas out of the gas tank and the oil from the crankcase.

Dix moved the catamaran away from the launch and tied it up on the side. He loaded the dead driver into the back seat and rolled the windows almost all the way up. He cranked the
trunk, drove it to the edge of the ramp, set the parking brake, and stepped out with it in gear. The engine was knocking from the lack of oil. Dix tripped the brake release and the truck rolled into the water. It floated out a bit and sank to the bottom. He cranked the catamaran and repositioned it at the launch, completely covering where the truck sank. The old man dusted himself off, “What do we do now?”