Survivors: A Novel of the Coming Collapse

13. Kasserne

Laine’s flight to Ramstein was on a C-17 with a mixed load of cargo and passengers. About thirty passengers lined one wall, on flip-down seats. It was an uneventful but noisy flight. He wore his earplugs. While on the flight, he composed draft e-mails to send to Kaylee and to his brother. Then he read some psalms.

After arriving at Ramstein, Andy got nervous when he saw a scene unfold in an adjoining hangar. A Texas National Guard unit that was on an emergency redeployment back from Bosnia was undergoing a “health and welfare” inspection overseen by officers and senior NCOs from the unit as well as some MPs. All of the troops had to completely unpack their duffel bags and backpacks. They even had dog handlers there, with German shepherds sniffing through the spread-out baggage. As an officer traveling alone and on a flight inside Germany, it was unlikely that Laine would ever be searched. And if he was, he wondered if his forged hand receipt would stand up to scrutiny. After all, it was fairly common knowledge that SIG P228s (called M11s by the U.S. Army) were not on the TO&Es of any but a few CID and MP units.

At Ramstein, there was more frustration: Because of fuel economy measures, he would have to wait until the next day to get transport to Grafenwohr Training Center. From there he could easily catch a ride to Rose Barracks, his unit’s home near Vilseck. So it was one more night in an Air Force BOQ.

There was no wireless Internet service at the “Q,” so he was forced to “war walk” with his laptop to find an open wireless network. He finally found one in an NCO accompanied housing complex. After he had logged on, he sent out his draft e-mails and checked his in-box. There were three new “Hurry home” e-mails from Kaylee. Then he checked the AFN Germany weather page and the HQUSAEUR G3 Road Conditions Web page. Out of curiosity, he checked the spot price of gold at Kitco.com. He was startled to see gold at $5,453 per ounce. It had gained $312 per ounce in the past twenty-four hours. Since his laptop’s battery was down to 32 percent, he turned it off and walked back to the BOQ. He was in a foul mood.

The next morning at breakfast, he discovered that the local Internet was up but that no connections to anywhere in the United States were working-for both e-mail and Web pages. The AFN television news soon reported the same Internet outage, with no known time or date for resumption of service. Andy shut down his laptop and prayed.

The bus to Graf at noon the next day was crowded. Most of the passengers carried six or more loaded shopping bags. They said that they had been forced to come to Ramstein because the shelves at the small commissary at U.S. Army Garrison Grafenwohr were nearly stripped clean.

Simultaneously, the price of food on the civilian economy-in the town of Grafenwohr-became astronomical, after the conversion from U.S. dollars to euros.

Andy overheard two military wives sitting in the seats ahead of him, discussing their mandatory next-of-kin evacuation orders (NEOs), NEO contingency suitcases, and the lack of transport to the United States. They were quite anxious and at a loss as to what they should do. While on the bus, Andy copied all of his personal files onto a flash-drive memory stick. He also copied the PDFs of several field manuals, including a joint service “Survival, Rescue, and Escape” manual, several out-of-copyright books on primitive skills like candlemaking, and a copy of the book Where There Is No Doctor. Then he took a deep breath and deleted all of his personal files from the laptop.

Once he had arrived at Graf, Laine borrowed a cell phone to call for a ride to Rose Barracks. But before he could finish, he was interrupted by a staff sergeant who had overheard him. He said, “Sir, if you don’t mind riding in a War Pig, I’m headed to Rose in just a few minutes.” Andy recognized him as a supply NCO from one of his unit’s sister squadrons. Laine nodded and gave a thumbs-up to the NCO and then, turning back to the phone, said, “Strike that-I just got a lift. Out here!” He flipped the phone closed.

The sergeant helped Laine with his bags as they walked to the M1078A1 truck. The two-and-a-half-ton truck-the replacement for the venerable M35 deuce-and-a-half-was an ugly boxy truck with a long step up to the cab. This was the same up-armored variant that Andy had ridden in many times in Afghanistan. A corporal was standing guard behind the tailgate, holding an M4 with a magazine inserted. It seemed odd, seeing that level of security in Germany. To Andrew, it looked more like A-stan mode than what he was used to seeing in Germany.

As they loaded Laine’s baggage, Andy could see a large pile of boxes and crates with “ORM-D” labels and large orange diamond-shaped “Class B Explosives” stickers.

“Ammo?” he asked incredulously. He cleared his throat and asked, “I thought that none of the squadrons were doing range fire until next April.”

“Sir, I guess you’ve been out of the loop. At 2330 last night Regiment put everyone on an alert for civil disturbances.”

“Whoa! Sounds serious.”

Laine’s first stop at Rose Barracks was the brigade orderly room. It was humming with activity. Before he even had a chance to put his bags down, Colonel Olds spotted him and shouted: “Andrew! Good to see you finally made it back here. Transportation problems?”

“Yes, sir, plenty. A major Charlie Foxtrot almost every step of the way.” He set down his overseas bag and flight bag but held on to his duffel bag. They shook hands.

“Well, I’m glad to see you back. We could really use your help. I think for the time being, I’m going to lend you to the S3 shop up at Regiment.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I’ve passed my active duty obligation date. That was seventeen days ago. I’m just back here to TI my gear, clear quarters, and outprocess.”

“Oh, that’s right. Hmmmm… and if I remember correctly, you have a fiancee waiting for you.” After a pause, Olds said, “Well, at least one of my staff is going to make it back to CONUS this year.” He sighed, clamped his hand on Andy’s shoulder, and said in a quieter voice, “Good luck, son.”

Laine’s next stops were the arms room, where he turned in his M4 carbine, and the NBC cage, where he turned in his M40 protective mask. After so many months of deployment, he felt naked without them. For the next two days he had brief moments of panic each time he stood up, realizing that his weapon was missing. But remembering that he still had the SIG P228 buried in the bottom of his duffel bag gave him some comfort.

By regulation, U.S. military service members always mustered out of active duty inside the United States. But a very recent emergency order from the Army Personnel Command (PERSCOM) stipulated that anyone of E4 pay grade or higher could now be released from active duty in situ anywhere except inside combat theaters at the discretion of a brigade S1 or higher. And a release for anyone E6 or higher could be made even inside a combat theater with a divisional commander’s approval.

At just after 1600, Laine checked into the Rose Barracks BOQ and finagled a field-grade single room by mentioning that he was in his last few days of service and that he was exhausted from his long journey. After dropping off his bags in the room and getting a shower, he rushed over to the squadron S4 cage in a nearby warehouse. He wanted to get there before close of business for the day. There he checked out the key to the luggage cage, where he had two footlockers and a large cardboard box in storage. All three items were stenciled “1LT Andrew Laine-8277,” the last four digits of his Social Security number. Luckily, his items were stacked together near the top of the eight-foot-high pile that lined one side of a sixty-foot-deep security cage. Using a large cart, he retrieved his items, signed a release form, and returned the cage key.

Although he was entitled to have these items shipped back to the United States as hold baggage, Laine realized that, given the circumstances, he would probably never see them again. It was better to sell or give away most of the gear as soon as possible. So he borrowed a two-wheel hand truck overnight and got a ride back to the BOQ.

Andy put a fresh set of batteries in his Kaito KA202L compact general coverage receiver radio and dialed in 1107 kHz AM for the local Armed Forces Network station, AFN Bavaria (“The Big Gun”). The transmitter was just outside of Vilseck, so it boomed in loud and clear. He caught the end of The Afternoon Mix show, then heard the familiar top-of-the hour announcement: “It’s six o’clock in Central Europe, and AFN is on the air!” Andy listened to the news summary while he sorted gear. It was more bad news.

From the news reports, the rioting seemed to be the worst in India, Pakistan, Israel, Brazil, and the eastern United States. There were also some riots reported in French cities with large Muslim populations. But unlike in previous uprisings, the French police had the gloves off. They were shooting rioters on sight.

Andy Laine hadn’t seen the contents of his footlockers and boxes for nineteen months. The first footlocker was completely filled with books. He emptied it onto the other bed in his room and then carried it to the BOQ foyer, where he left it standing on end with its lid swung open. Atop it he taped a sign: “MOVING SALE-TONIGHT ONLY-2.4 GHz Laptop, Books, CDs, DVDs, Clothes, and More! 1830 Hrs. TONIGHT ONLY-BOQ Room 106.”

Andy changed into civilian clothes and popped the top of a can of Afri-Cola. He continued sorting. Just a few minutes later there was a knock at the door. He answered it to find a pair of black female second lieutenants from down the hall. One of them asked, “Are you Lieutenant Laine?”

“Captain, actually.”

“Oh, sorry, sir. We, uh, we just saw your footlocker with the sign. Can you start your sale now?”

“Sorry, but I’m not ready yet. Give me until about 1820 to sort through all this and come back here with cash. I’d prefer euros.”

“Will do, sir.”

After they left, he started sorting books. Laine’s collection included a lot of classics, biographies, Christian apologetics, reference books, and military field manuals.

After some deliberation, he settled on carrying just four books with him: his King James Bible, a compact copy of the SAS Survival Guide by John “Lofty” Wiseman, a small English-French/French-English dictionary and phrasebook, and a copy of FM 5-34, Engineer Field Data.

The books that it pained him the most to sell were his hardback set of Matthew Henry’s Commentaries and his set of The Rational Biblical Theology of Jonathan Edwards. But he knew that he had to travel light.

He unlocked the second footlocker. It contained mostly clothes, about thirty audio CDs and a dozen DVDs. He already had MP3 backup copies of the CDs burned onto Kaylee’s laptop in New Mexico, so there’d be no regrets in leaving those behind.

Laine cut the tape seal on the cardboard box and pulled out the modular sleep system (MSS) sleeping bag that he had bought at the post clothing sales store during his officer basic course. Also in the box was a civilian bivouac bag, a Millet brand “Cyrano.” This was a top-of-the-line bivy bag made with an olive green Gore-Tex top and a heavy brown rubberized waterproof fabric bottom. This sleeping bag’s cover could take the place of a tent and was so waterproof that he could practically sleep in a puddle and it wouldn’t leak. The bottom of the box was filled with clothes, a rappelling Swiss seat, and a binder full of his college term papers.

Andy sorted and then resorted his civilian clothes, paring them down into two piles: “Keep” and “Sell.” He sorted through the contents of his suitcase, duffel, and flight bags with the same ruthlessness. He placed everything that he planned to take on his trip home in the closet, so that it would be out of sight when buyers arrived. He took the time to check the condition of his compact Elecraft KX1 QRP shortwave transceiver. This low-power rig could be used to transmit Morse code in the 20-, 30-, 40-, and 80-meter ham radio bands.

Powered by six AA batteries, the ten-ounce radio was capable of transmitting around the world when ionospheric conditions were right. It put out just 1 to 2 watts of power (or up to 4 watts if using an external 12-volt battery). Using his 200-watt Kenwood HF rig in Texas, Lars had several successful two-way contacts with Andy in Afghanistan, even though his younger brother’s transmitter put out only a few watts of effective radiated power. Andy carefully repacked the transceiver and accessories in two thicknesses of zipper-lock bags and then in a pair of Tupperware containers.

The two lieutenants returned at 1815. Right behind them were a TDY Marine Corps captain and a WO2 aviator. Then came a couple of majors: one was a field artillery officer and the other was a chaplain.

As they crowded into the room, Laine announced:

“Okay, here are the ground rules: I hold up each item, describe it, and name a price. The first one that says ‘Dibs’ gets it. The prices will be very reasonable but nonnegotiable. Keep in mind that I just had to pay $125 for a dinner at Burger King, so don’t try to nickel-and-dime me. Each of you grab a notepad from the desk there and keep your own tally. We’ll settle up at the end, in cash. Now, any part that you pay for in euros, you can divide by four-a four-to-one exchange ratio. Klar?”

The sale was over in less than a half hour. Most of the items sold for between $10 and $50 each. Laine was surprised to see some of the officers buy clothes in sizes that didn’t fit. Then he realized that they were desperate to get out of dollars and into anything tangible that they could later barter or sell. He even sold the two empty footlockers for $100 each.

The one item that brought in the most cash was his laptop. It sold for $2,500, which was a pittance, considering the recent inflation. Andy was sad to see it go, but unless the Internet connections inside the United States started working again, it would just be a boat anchor. And if the connections were reestablished, Andy surmised that he could keep in touch using borrowed laptops or rented PCs at Internet cafes.

Laine took the small remaining stack of the books that hadn’t sold and put them on the half-empty bookshelves of BOQ lounge. Most of what was already there were Reader’s Digest condensed books, out-of-date travel books, and romance novels. After he had added his books, the collective IQ of the shelves rose dramatically.

Andy returned to his room and wrapped his remaining gold coins in duct tape. He similarly wrapped the wedding band mate to the engagement ring that he had presented to Kaylee just before his Afghanistan deployment. He then removed the screws to the Primus backpacking stove lid’s sheet metal heat shield. He inserted the duct tape squares inside the lid and used even more tape to hold them in place. When the heat shield was reinstalled, the extra thickness was undetectable.