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| By Larry Kelly-Mahaffey |
On October 15, 2020, Captain Strang and Major Timms were halfway through their 40-hour tour in the bunker of a Minuteman ICBM silo in North Dakota. Captain Strang was playing solitaire on his tablet while Major Tim’s slept in a bunk across the small control room. Despite Timms wearing rock concert grade ear plugs, his ability to sleep while the sound of air conditioning units and other servo mechanisms filled the air, demonstrated some tenacity of spirit.
Suddenly the teletype machine, 50-year-old technology that had never been replaced, with presumptuous chucking and clanging, began spewing ticker tape onto the floor. Captain Strang sighed, put down his tablet, and arose to retrieve the message. “Oh, well, a little training exercise to break the tedium,” he thought. With half lidded eyes, he retrieved the tape from the floor and began to casually pass it through his hands as he read it. As he did so, his face became livid, his eyes began to protrude slightly, and if you had been standing directly in front of him, you would have seen his pupils dilate. For a moment he stood stock still, unable to move, and then, with some difficulty, he began to move his mouth, attempting to speak. “Maj...!” he exclaimed hoarsely, his voice cracking. Then swallowing, he managed to shout, “Major Timms! Wake up! This is it! Come witness your destiny!”
Slowly, Major Timms began to rouse himself, having just been interrupted from a dream in which a very attractive woman, with whom he was drinking, had been trying to extract from him the launch codes for his Minuteman Rocket. He was almost at the point where he would reveal to her that he had only been leading her on and was not about to tell our nation’s secrets when Captain Strang’s hoarse shouts interrupted his sleep.
“Wha...?” he asked Strang sleepily.
“We’re at war!” Captain Strang shouted back, more gleefully than Major Timms would have liked.
Major Timms sprang up abruptly and immediately experienced a bit of orthostatic hypotension. As he leaned on the nearest solid object with his head down, he, once again, assured himself the condition was better than the opposite.
As Major Timms leaned against his desk, Captain Strang strode the 3 paces to him and waved the ticker tape in front of Major Timms unfocused eyes. “This is the big one! This is what we were born for!” Captain Strang said.
As the blood slowly returned to his head, Major Timms realized that he had not considered what he was born for since he was a sophomore in College. These days, he mostly thought, if at all, that the meaning of life might be attaining the rank of bird colonel and retiring with a pension. “What are you talking about?” he asked Captain Strang as coherently as he could.
Strang passed the tape before his eyes. It read, “YOUR NEW TARGET COORDINATES ARE 39.9526 NORTH, 75.1652 WEST. ENTER THESE COORDINATES IMMEDIATELY AND GO TO LAUNCH. THIS IS NOT A TEST. REPEAT: THIS IS NOT A TEST. WE ARE AT WAR. DESTROY THE ENEMY AND A GRATEFUL NATION THANKS YOU.”
Suddenly Major Timms was as clear headed as on a crisp winter day. He looked at Captain Timms who looked back at him, the realization of what was happening simultaneously racing through their minds. Quickly, Major Timms sprang to the console rack and began entering the new target coordinates as Captain Strang read them to him.
“39.9526 North,” read Captain Strang, enunciating clearly.
“39.9526 North,” thought Major Timms as he began to enter the coordinate. “That must be China. What the hell has happened in the last day while we’ve been down here?”
“75.1652 West,” read Captain Strang.
Major Timms turned away from the console and said to Captain Strang, “East. You mean East.”
“What?” asked Captain Strang, open mouthed.
“You said 75 something West. You meant 75 something East, right?” insisted Major Timms, frowning.
“No. Says right here 75.1652 West,” replied Captain Strang, pointing to the ticker tape.
“Let me see that!” growled Major Timms, striding over, and grabbing the ticker from Captain Strang.
“See, there it is,” Captain Strang said, pointing to the text which clearly was inscribed as, “75.1652 WEST”
“What the fu_k!” Major Timms expostulated and strode over to the computer where he googled the coordinates 39.9526 North, 75.1652 West.
“That’s fu_king Philadelphia!” he exploded. “Some dog faced pony soldier Colonel in the Pentagon gave us the coordinates for Philadelphia rather than some place in China!”
Major Timms grabbed the hot line phone and was surprised to hear, instead of his commander at Airborne Launch Control Systems, the gravely voice of a stranger.
“Have you launched yet, soldier?” the voice enquired.
“No sir. There seems to be some mistake. The attack coordinates are for Philadelphia.” Major Timms replied.
“Soldier, you have 7 minutes before all hell breaks loose in your silo. Now do your duty as a sworn member of the military and launch!” the gravelly voice came back.
“Who is this?” Major Timms enquired, suddenly realizing that there might be something more amiss than the launch coordinates.
“This is General Brad Hadtack, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and I’m ordering you to launch immediately!”
“Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff? What happened to General Milley?” Major Timms asked incredulously, and then covering the mouthpiece, he whispered to Captain Strang, “Look up General Brad Hadtack. He says he’s the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”
As Major Timms was relaying this message, General Hadtack was replying, “The President lost confidence in General Milley and has replaced him with me, an officer who has his full trust and confidence. Now do your job soldier!” and the line went dead.
Captain Strang looked up from the computer and said, “General Brad Hadtack is a brigadier who is the commander of a small army base in Georgia. And he said he was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff?”
“Yes, there is something definitely wrong with this situation. I think we need to wait for clarification.”
“But you know what’s going to happen. If we’re at war, like the General said, in 7 minutes,” then looking at his watch, “in 5 minutes a shit storm of nuclear missiles are going to start raining down on us, and you, damn it, will have lost our ability to counterattack,” Strang imprecated.
“No, we wait. When in doubt, don’t,” Timms said solemnly.
“But…” Strang began.
“No ifs and or buts Captain. We stand down. That’s an order.”
The familiar sounds of the President’s voice coming from the squawk box suddenly rent the air. “Warriors of the United States. We are at war. A huge, enormous war. A massive war which we must win. A war we will win. The Lame Stream Media says I’m losing in the polls, but 12.2 million people watched my briefing last night. And the numbers continue to rise. And it will turn out to be a massive success. I know that you all will do your duty. Nobody wants to be nuked, but if we are to win massively, hugely, you must nuke our enemies. General Hadtack, he said to me, ‘Sir, you just tell me who to destroy, and I’ll do it.’” A loyal soldier, General Hadtack. A loyal soldier.
Now some of you are questioning your new commander, General Hadtack. He is a great guy. A really first-rate guy. He and I have really good chemistry together. He sent me this beautiful birthday card in a fancy envelope for my birthday. A really first-class card with a beautiful message inside. ‘To my first and only commander-in-chief on his birthday. Sir, we love you Mister President.’ What a beautiful card, from a beautiful man and a true soldier. And it’s not easy. General Milley, he’s smiling down on us. He was a good guy and a great soldier, but there was no chemistry there, you know. No chemistry. But a good soldier. But it’s not easy, so here we are.
And I know that all you fighting men will make us proud as the finest military force the world has ever seen, and you men, and your women too, will rain down fire and fury on our enemies like the world has never known. And my black fighting men too, and women. And Chinks. Don’t forget about the Chinks. Them too. And you Hispanics in the armed forces, some of you I assume are good people. One of the Hispanics, a Master Sergeant, came up to me the other day and said, ‘Sir, I want to thank you. My wife thinks I'm a loser. All my life, we never did well with the 401(k)s, with stocks, everything I invested. I'm up 72%, sir. She thinks I'm a financial genius. She's so in love with me. She's so in love.’ So, don’t listen to the fake military. I’m in charge. Article II says I can do anything I want. So, you must be strong. You must dominate. Win bigly!”
For a moment, the two officers stood in silence, their heads down. Major Timms held the elbow of his left hand with his right while he pressed his left hand against his cheek. Then Captain Strang broke the silence, “Well?” he asked expectantly.
“Well What?” answered Major Timms.
“You heard the President. We must do our duty as part of the finest military force the world has ever seen.”
“Is that what you heard?” Major Timms asked incredulously. “Yes, that was the President, and yes he told us to follow orders, but those were not legal orders and the President is not compos mentis.”
Captain Strang’s face began to turn red and he angrily spat out, “Okay. So, you went to some fancy college back east while I graduated from Nebraska State. So, you use big words like ‘compos mentis’ and I have no idea what you’re saying, but I don’t like the tone of it. The question is, ‘Are you going to do your duty or not?’”
“I’m sorry Captain. All I was saying was that the President is not sane, as is evident, and we cannot legally carry out the orders of a crazy person.”
Strang unstrapped the holster of his service side arm, pulled it out and pointed it at Timms. “Listen, Major. The President has given us an order. You are no longer in command here. I’m taking over. Now you do your duty and put your key in the console to unlock the Minuteman so we can fire it, or I’ll blow your head off.”
Timms folded his arms across his chest, scuffed the toe of a shoe, and looking Strang directly in the face, said, “Come, come, Captain. If you blow my head off, then who will turn my key to unlock the Minuteman? Both of us have to turn our keys at the same time, and you will be on the other side of the room from my station, so you can’t possibly turn both at once. Besides, have you noticed that while the President was meandering on, the putative 7 minutes before all hell rains down upon our heads has passed, and, remarkably, we’re still here.
Suddenly the squawk box sprang to life again, and a crisp down east New England voice intoned, “This is Major General John Mason. I have temporarily taken control of the Pentagon. I’m ordering all units to stand down and cease hostile operations against our nation. I repeat, stand down. We are not at war with our own nation. Cease all military operations in progress. Stand by for a message from acting President Nancy Pelosi.”
President Nancy Pelosi then addressed the soldiers stating that the former President had experienced a mental breakdown. He had ordered the destruction of several major cities in the United States in order to eliminate urban voters in a desperate attempt to prevent his defeat in the coming election. “We grieve the loss of Chicago, Detroit, Milwaukee and the tens of millions of residents there. Immediate aid will be sent to these cities’ environs in an attempt to save those who are still alive in the surrounding areas. Thankfully, several other cities the former President targeted were spared, their attackers realizing that the orders were not legal.” At this Major Timms gave Captain Sprang a knowing look.
“During an hour of chaos at the Pentagon, a team of special forces under the former President’s direction rampaged through the offices executing all senior officers who failed to carry out the President’s orders to attack our cities. The President was finally able to locate a Brigadier General Hadtack who would carry out his plan, but both the General and the special forces unit have now been neutralized.
The joint houses of Congress were hastily convened, and an ad hoc committee was formed which unanimously agreed that under Amendment 25 Section 4, the former President is not capable of discharging his duties. Amendment 25 specifies that, under these circumstances, Vice-President Pence would assume the Presidency. In an additional act of treachery, the former President sent our colleague Vice President Pence to Milwaukee for a campaign rally with the intention of preventing him from invoking Amendment 25 once the former President began destroying American cities. Consequently, in the absence of a vice-President, I was sworn in, and assumed the duties of President. The former President has been given the opportunity to write a letter to the President Pro Tempore of the Senate and the new Speaker of the House contesting this decision, but he has so far been unable to do so.
This has been the darkest hour that our nation has ever endured. I pray that we will never see the like of it again. May God bless us and may God bless the United States of America.”
As required by the Constitution, the election was held 3 weeks later on November 3rd, regrettably without the participation of the three cities that had been destroyed by nuclear bombs. The former President, while confined to a padded cell and cared for by a team of doctors and several large male nurses, lost in a landslide, receiving 37% of the popular vote. But he was barely defeated in the electoral college. If a Minuteman missile had killed the voters of Philadelphia, Trump certainly would have carried Pennsylvania and won the election.
Major Timms and Captain Strang asked to be given separate assignments.
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