Apocalyptic Musings Concerning Accidental Guardians (Updated post from 3/6/2016)

 

"The eight Elders, dressed in white muslin robes, stood beside each other in a semicircle, a good twenty feet from the fifteen strangers and their well-worn motorcycles.  Elder Martin looked over the poorly maintained shotgun carried by the spokesperson of the group, a Benelli M1014, 12-gauge police riot gun.  The rough looking biker took a few steps forward while talking.  Martin saw him adjust and tighten his fingers around the shotgun's modified pistol grip, as he continued to babble on about "just passing through."  The other strangers held similar weapons, at various stages of readiness.  

Martin sensed Elder John, the sixty year old retired navy SEAL, standing next to him, gently shifting his weight to his good leg, as the biker spokesman slowly closed the distance.   A slight breeze caused the robes of the Elder's to lightly flutter. 

The leader stopped walking forward, and also stopped talking.  He was close enough for Martin and John to smell.  He hadn't bathed for... well, forever.  He smiled, showing rotting teeth that went well with his greasy hair and filthy clothes.  Martin kept his eyes locked on the stranger and recited softly, in a friendly, even welcoming tone, the Elder’s Golden Rule, “He who hesitates is lost.”   

Elder John cocked an eyebrow.

The spokesman for the "visitors" saw the eyebrow rise and also caught a low movement as something like a stick lifted Martin's white robe from underneath. He saw the polished bluing of a gun barrel appear from below the drape of muslin material. Realizing, that his attention had been professionally diverted in several directions, he, all too late, snapped his eyes up to see a slight smile appear on Martin's lips just as the Elder's 12-gauge Mossberg exploded, virtually cutting the biker in half due to the short distance between them. The other strangers didn't stand a chance as similar gun reports, from the other Elders, ended the meeting in short order. 

A few seconds later, when the echoing sound of gunfire subsided, Martin's smile had been replaced by a look of sadness. The villagers immediately set about quietly removing bodies and dismantling the motorcycles.  The Elders, just as quietly, turned and reentered the meeting hall from whence they’d come.  

He who hesitates is lost."

-- "The Old Guard" (excerpt from the prologue)

I wrote this prologue about 16 years ago. It was a story I considered writing in the late 1990s and which "life events" had put on hold. I eventually forgot about it as I struggled with my divorce, the tragedy of 911, and Hurricane Katrina's attempt at wiping out my parents. I may yet find the time to elaborate on it to see where the adventure takes me.  Or, I may not, as I approach 70 years of age.

The story's premise originally came to mind as a premonition of future events I could see on our horizon.  The collapse of law enforcement and, by extension, civilization as we know it, will give rise to a multitude of different groups within our own country, which have been waiting years for an opportunity to take advantage, and many other gangs of the criminal element, that simply want to seize the moment in order to have their flash of faux importance as they feed off the carcass of what the other, stronger groups, leave behind.  Almost all of us will certainly clash over our differing philosophies on how to go about rebuilding society.  Compounding the disaster will be enemies from without our country that will see this opportunity to capture our lands and possibly save their own countries from ruin.

In the midst of apocalyptic stories are always the common people; the people with great fear and great dreams, wishing only to survive in the all too real danger of a virtually lawless frontier where insane criminal gangs, mainstream religions, religious fanatics, militias, and military strongholds, all vie for power and control over some piece of real estate that people call home.  There will be safety in numbers, and the numbers had better be armed and ready to fight, for their survival, God, mom, and that delicious apple pie.

We can only hope, somewhere in this insanity, guardians with a moral sense of purpose will rise from the ashes.  It will probably start with military Special Ops teams that consider this mess as a job not done.  They have served our country, ready to kill, die, and live like there is no tomorrow.  

What will they do when tomorrow shows up broken?  I'm banking that they'll survive.  They'll survive by assisting others to survive, fight, and live.  They will find a higher purpose in burying what's dead and starting over, one person at a time.  Like the politics of today, survival will be all about us and them.  "Us" will survive at any cost and if "them" doesn't like it, they better find a rock to crawl under.  You can lead, or follow. Or, get out of the way and not survive.

The apocalyptic stories we see in the movies or read about in fiction seem ready to have a lone hero, or a small band of "good-bad" guys, battling the real evil of the land.  But, what if this "disaster" gives rise to the "best of the best" that we have produced?  What if our soldiers, lacking any cohesive higher echelon, actually find a righteous purpose beyond the political and military gamesmanship they were trained to undertake?  What if the "militaristic" rewrite of Lord of the Flies, as told in Francis Ford Coppola's, Apocalypse Now, is populated by military men and women that truly give a shit about protecting the innocent and the tattered remnants of their society and the rule of law?  It is a given that action, and not negotiation, is their preferred modus operandi?  If so, hesitation in any given situation would be frowned upon.  Instinct.  They are trained to know.  If they have to guess, they're trained to base their guess on their best analysis of a given situation, and then, right or wrong, they act, and hope they're right.  They wing it.

I love watching different takes on "end of world" scenarios.  Unfortunately, too many of these scenarios of doom rely on action, more action, and then, when all else fails, still more action, death, and destruction.  No one really looks at deep character development.  No one looks into the hearts and minds of the heroes and the fodder.  Maybe with the written word, but in film it becomes lost.  We are given very little to connect with.  Apocalypse Now gave it a good try, but it went a bit overboard and reality became too dark for most folks' sensibilities.  I'm not sure many civilians understood the moral.  Hell, Vietnam was confusing for everyone, as was Cambodia and Laos, but then, we were never "officially" there.

I'm certain I'll find a moral to my story before I finish it.  Do bad things happen to good people?  Maybe it's that "good people" only find their true calling when things turn to shit around them.  Or, maybe, God can be found at the armpit of the world, and one's faith can only be discovered when all else is lost.  Maybe I'll simply find that an old acronym, from my days of plotting nuclear destruction, has more meaning at the end, like WRATGAS (Who Really And Truly Gives A Shit).

Who really and truly gives a shit?  Let's pray to God that someone does.  Maybe it'll have to be us.

"You have to have men who are moral... and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling... without passion... without judgment."

-- Colonel Kurtz, "Apocalypse Now"

Editor's Note

(Re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card)

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so. This is also why, occasionally, I will present an "opinion" just to stir an emotional pot. Where it may sound like I agree with the statements made, I'm more interested in getting others to consider an alternate viewpoint. 

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and while engaging in peaceful and constructive discussion, in an arena of mutual respect, concerning those opinions put forth. After over twenty years with military intelligence, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we learn from the experience, and what we do afterward.

Pastor Tony spent 22 years with the United States Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, instructor, and, finally, a senior manager. He spent 17 years, following his service career, working with the premier, world-renowned, Western Institutional Review Board helping to protect the rights of human subjects involved in pharmaceutical research.

Ordained 1n 2013 as an "interfaith" minister, he founded the Congregation for Religious Tolerance in response to intolerance shown by Christians toward peaceful Islam. As the weapon for his war on intolerance he chose the pen, and wages his "battle" in the guise of the Congregation's official online blog, The Path, of which he is both author and editor. "The Path" offers a vehicle for commentary and guidance concerning one's own personal, spiritual, path toward peace and the final destination for us all. He currently resides in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he volunteered as the lead chaplain at a regional medical center.

Feel free to contact Pastor Tony:  tolerantpastor@gmail.com