008: Final Preps

Ours are a bit better... maybe

12th of September, 2000
Steve:

Jimmy finished the more difficult parts of his chemistry experiments, stuff he didn't want us messing with. As far as heavy weapons go: We now have 47 fragmentation grenades and 30 satchel charges. Jimmy assures that fuses and detonators should be about as reliable as factory models... we'll see I suppose.

Caleb has been keeping himself busy with his machine tools. You know you've run out of useful things to do when your mechanic starts screwing suppressors onto every rifle you have. Even the old Remington Rolling Block got one.

Kate spent the last few days re-zeroing them. She doesn't entirely trust Caleb's modifications, nor does she like being forced to use Jimmy's questionable reloads for non-combat shooting, but it will help us avoid whatever passes for game wardens these days, and may even have some tactical uses.

It's a good thing all those grenades/pipebombs we made are roughly the same diameter. Caleb suggested sticking wood dowels on the end of them, sticking soup cans to the ends of our shotguns and using them as grenade launchers. Jimmy didn't like the idea of wooden dowels going down the barrel (potentially dangerous, causes barrel wear) but he did approve the soup-can launchers and now even our old breech-loading bird guns are militarily useful.

We fired off a few dummy rounds and the things seem to be accurate out to 100 meters. Shame we can't suppress them too.

[Caleb: We probably could, actually.]
[Kate: No.]
[Jimmy: Shotguns can indeed be suppressed; used to be legal and common for fowlers in Europe to do so. Grenades I'm not so sure about.]

Kate:
It's a good thing I keep our guns are in such good condition, because poorer-quality weapons wouldn't react well to that nasty stuff these people want to put in them.

Jimmy's smokeless powder… isn't. And he's still working out the kinks with his primer reloads, so duds are pretty common. As said earlier, the stuff is only good for target shooting and hunting, and even then I'd want a back-up weapon loaded with reliable, professionally-made ammunition (remember last time, with the coyotes?)

He spends most of his time in the ruins of the forge, working alone just in case the thinkable happens. When Caleb ain't helping, he's working on his own projects. Steve helps those two when he can, and Maria and me? We go fishing.

And hunting. Squirrel, pheasant, raccoon, the occasional deer. Thank God there's more in these woods than coyotes. It had been so long since we last had to eat any that I'd forgotten how awful it tastes.

We spent the last two days pretending to be migrant farm workers and helping our landlady and her grandkids (seems to be a lot more of them than I remember) cut hay. Jimmy didn't like it but Steve said that no one would connect two peasant girls with an insurgent movement. Yesterday, we even had some help from a bunch of county workers… some kind of new Civilian Conservation Corps thing. Or perhaps it's more like the Reichsarbeitsdienst.

Maria:

More like Reichsarbeitsdienst, I think. Interesting arrangement they had with landlady: offer to help could not be refused, and neither could payment for service. But then again, is that not nature of all government assistance?

A couple of the sheriff's deputies were working as guards (why does entirely-volunteer work program need guards?) and talking about how eventually all farm workers, all across the country, were to be registered under programs like this. Officially it's to weed out "illegals" and prevent abuses at hands of landowners, but more likely the UN is simply collectivizing the farm workers as prelude to collectivizing the farms. There was more talk, about how farm animals would also be registered, about how farm animals would be chipped and monitored… wonder if they make us bend over for branding iron, too?

In Afghanistan, every year the Soviets would declare rural areas to be free of insurgents, only to be driven from them as soon as the last harvests were in. Same thing as happened to the Americans in Vietnam. It took them years to realize that the insurgents had never left, merely disguised as harmless-looking laborers in the farms and villages, working jobs where they could come and go as they liked and would seldom be remembered. Our occupiers seem to be catching on quicker. Remains to be seen what they'll do after tomorrow.

Guerrilla Warfare 02: Size and Composition

From Robert Heinlein, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress:
"The trouble with conspiracies is that they rot internally. When the number is as high as four, chances are even that one is a spy."

Wyoh said glumly, "You make it sound hopeless."

"Not at all, my dear. One chance in a thousand, perhaps."

"I can't believe it. I don't believe it! Why, in the years I've been active we have gained members by the hundreds! We have organizations in all major cities. We have the people with us."

Prof shook head. "Every new member made it that much more likely that you would be betrayed. Wyoming dear lady, revolutions are not won by enlisting the masses. Revolution is a science only a few are competent to practice. It depends on correct organization and, above all, on communications. Then, at the proper moment in history, they strike. Correctly organized and properly timed it is a bloodless coup. Done clumsily or prematurely and the result is civil war, mob violence, purges, terror. I hope you will forgive me if I say that, up to now, it has been done clumsily."

Wyoh looked baffled. "What do you mean by 'correct organization'?"

"Functional organization. How does one design an electric motor? Would you attach a bathtub to it, simply because one was available? Would a bouquet of flowers help? A heap of rocks? No, you would use just those elements necessary to its purpose and make it no larger than needed--and you would incorporate safety factors. Function controls design.

"So it is with revolution. Organization must be no larger than necessary--never recruit anyone merely because he wants to join. Nor seek to persuade for the pleasure of having another share your views. He'll share them when the times comes... or you've misjudged the moment in history. Oh, there will be an educational organization but it must be separate; agitprop is no part of basic structure.

"As to basic structure, a revolution starts as a conspiracy therefore structure is small, secret, and organized as to minimize damage by betrayal--since there always are betrayals. One solution is the cell system and so far nothing better has been invented.

"Much theorizing has gone into optimum cell size. I think that history shows that a cell of three is best--more than three can't agree on when to have dinner, much less when to strike. Manuel, you belong to a large family; do you vote on when to have dinner?"

"Bog, no! Mum decides."

"Ah." Prof took a pad from his pouch, began to sketch. "Here is a cells-of-three tree. If I were planning to take over Luna. I would start with us three. One would be opted as chairman. We wouldn't vote; choice would be obvious--or we aren't the right three. We would know the next nine people, three cells... but each cell would know only one of us."

"Looks like computer diagram--a ternary logic."

"Does it really? At the next level there are two ways of linking: This comrade, second level, knows his cell leader, his two cellmates, and on the third level he knows the three in his subcell--he may or may not know his cellmates' subcells. One method doubles security, the other doubles speed--of repair if security is penetrated. Let's say he does not know his cellmates' subcells--Manuel, how many can he betray? Don't say he won't; today they can brainwash any person, and starch and iron and use him. How many?"

"Six," I answered. "His boss, two cellmates, three in sub-cell."

"Seven," Prof corrected, "he betrays himself, too. Which leaves seven broken links on three levels to repair. How?"

"I don't see how it can be," objected Wyoh. "You've got them so split up it falls to pieces."

"Manuel? An exercise for the student."

"Well... blokes down here have to have way to send message up three levels. Don't have to know who, just have to know where."

"Precisely!"

"But, Prof," I went on, "there's a better way to rig it."

"Really? Many revolutionary theorists have hammered this out, Manuel. I have such confidence in them that I'll offer you a wager--at, say, ten to one."

"Ought to take your money. Take same cells, arrange in open pyramid of tetrahedrons. Where vertices are in common, each bloke knows one in adjoining cell--knows how to send message to him, that's all he needs. Communications never break down because they run sideways as well as up and down. Something like a neural net. It's why you can knock a hole in a man's head, take chunk of brain out, and not damage thinking much. Excess capacity, messages shunt around. He loses what was destroyed but goes on functioning."

"Manuel," Prof said doubtfully, "could you draw a picture? It sounds good--but it's so contrary to orthodox doctrine that I need to see it."

"Well... could do better with stereo drafting machine. I'll try." (Anybody who thinks it's easy to sketch one hundred twenty-one tetrahedrons, a five-level open pyramid, clear enough to show relationships is invited to try!)

Presently I said, "Look at base sketch. Each vertex of each triangle shares self with zero, one, or two other triangles. Where shares one, that's its link, one direction or both--but one is enough for a multipli-redundant communication net. On corners, where sharing is zero, it jumps to right to next corner. Where sharing is double, choice is again right-handed.

"Now work it with people. Take fourth level, D-for-dog. This vertex is comrade Dan. No, let's go down one to show three levels of communication knocked out--level E-for-easy and pick Comrade Egbert.

"Egbert works under Donald, has cellmates Edward and Elmer, and has three under him, Frank, Fred, and Fatso... but knows how to send message to Ezra on his own level but not in his cell. He doesn't know Ezra's name, face, address, or anything--but has a way, phone number probably, to reach Ezra in emergency.

"Now watch it work. Casimir, level three, finks out and betrays Charlie and Cox in his cell, Baker above him, and Donald, Dan, and Dick in subcell--which isolates Egbert, Edward, and Elmer. and everybody under them.

"All three report it--redundancy, necessary to any communication system--but follow Egbert's yell for help. He calls Ezra. But Ezra is under Charlie and is isolated, too. No matter, Ezra relays both messages through his safety link, Edmund. By bad luck Edmund is under Cox, so he also passes it laterally, through Enwright... and that gets it past burned-out part and it goes up through Dover, Chambers, and Beeswax, to Adam, front office....ho replies down other side of pyramid, with lateral pass on E-for-easy level from Esther to Egbert and on to Ezra and Edmund. These two messages, up and down, not only get through at once but in way they get through, they define to home office exactly how much damage has been done and where. Organization not only keeps functioning but starts repairing self at once."
So, how big should a direct-action revolutionary cell be?

Better to be alone than to be in bad company, but it probably shouldn't be less than three. It is possible for buddy teams and lone wolfs to carry out a protracted guerrilla struggle (many Japanese holdouts did it for decades, even launching occasional attacks on the post-war governments), but it's a hard life and not many are capable of it. Also, it's unlikely that such a small force would ever cause very much damage.

I disagree with Heinlein on the idea of a three-man cell always being optimum. It often is, but there are times when you would want more personnel. A larger force will have a broader range of skills, ability to take on bigger tasks, and will likely remain potent after taking casualties.

Growing too large, however, is even worse than staying too small: detection will be easier, feeding and equipping the fighters will be harder, coming to agreement on a course of action will be more difficult, sanitation and morale may suffer depending on location, and there's an increased danger of spies and infiltrators. A direct-action revolutionary cell should probably number no more than twelve members.

Urban and suburban cells will be smaller than rural ones; a cell of ex-Navy SEALs will be able to carry out operations with fewer participants than a cell of ex-Girl Scouts. I like to joke about something I call the Dinner Table Rule: if your cell can't be comfortably seated at the average family dinner table, it should consider branching out. If it's just two guys sharing meals on one of those folding tray things, you should work on your recruitment.

Who do you recruit?

People you can trust. Close family are ideal, lifetime friends likewise. Next step down the ladder would be members of one's larger social network. The "social network", historically, would have meant folk and faith: your extended family, the community they come from, the church they go to, and so on.  It does not mean someone you just met at a bar or on the Internet, though surely you would already know that (recruitment, secure communication and OPSEC is something I'll have to go into in depth later).

Who don't you recruit?


Go look up the Seven Deadly Sins. Anyone with a predilection for one or more of them probably shouldn't be recruited; the temptation for betrayal or dereliction of duty will be too high.

Avoid drunkards, braggarts, lunatics and fools, or use them in a manner where they can compromise the larger movement and can be removed should they pose a danger ("suicide bomber" is a surprisingly good MOS for these).

Operating as a resistance fighter will require a great deal of physical, mental and emotional strength, though those who lack these may find use as above-ground auxiliaries. Age is an important consideration: Che Guevara advised recruiting no one under the age of the 16, International Law advises no one under the age of 18. In Chechnya, Africa and the Former Yugoslavia (well, most wars not involving people who can't afford to lose) it was quite common for children as young as 11 to serve in combat.

Structure and Leadership Within the Cell

For all but the smallest cells, there should be someone who decides when to have dinner, how much of the rations to serve, who has to do the dishes and when to go blow up the enemy ammo dump (this need not be the same person; the resident tactical genius may not be the greatest accountant or homemaker). Such leaders will likely arise naturally on the basis of proven experience and talents, and formal ranks probably won't be necessary.

Gameplay Notes: An Update, And A Song

This has been a hectic summer, with members and material scattered over multiple states. However, we are hoping to get back to gaming in earnest this fall and possibly introduce a few new players.

007: Dress Rehersal

8th of September, 2000
Kate:

I had to kill four men yesterday, but apart from that I really did just fine.

Jimmy sent me to these run-down storage sheds near Dunnet. They were supposed to be abandoned, but we were pretty sure that someone was cooking amphetamines in the area and keeping their more volatile supplies there.

First trip there and back went without a cinch. The second trip was different, I was accosted by four rough-looking men accusing me of being a thief and/or trespasser (I was) and claiming to be the police and/or property owners (they weren't).

First I tried to talk my way out of it. I said that my grandfather owned the land and I was just checking it for him, and I didn't want any trouble. They just became more aggressive, and their leader said they were going to have to "teach me a lesson."

They started coming at me, one brandishing a shotgun, one with a pistol and two with knives. I emptied my S&W 1911's magazine into the two gunmen. The other two tried to get close enough to stab me, so I dodged their blades and likewise shot them down. After that I took my hatchet and finished them off. Didn't really want to, but I couldn't leave any witnesses.

It's hardly the first time I've ever killed anyone, and I can't say I regret doing it, but I made quite a mess up there. It would be rather bad if the authorities linked it to us, wouldn't it? Here's hoping that doesn't happen.

In addition to 150 kilograms of raw material, my spoils of war were as follows:

1 Taurus PT-92, 9mm
Pistol Clips, low load
1 Browning A-Bolt Stalker, 12 gauge
Bandolier, tight load
2 Decent hunting knives
23 US Dollars (near useless)
16 Euros (a bit less useless)
Ration cards (probably not a good idea to eat off the EBT of someone you just killed)
A bottle of decent-quality moonshine
50 grams of high-quality methamphetamine

[GM note: the dice seem to have it in for Kate, but so far she's been able to handle it just fine. However, right now I'd consider her a fugitive from both International Law and the Law of Averages, so we'll see how long her luck holds out.]

Jimmy:

Kate did fine; meth-head murders ain't exactly uncommon these days and terrorism fighting for our freedom is all but impossible to differentiate from market-garden crime in the early phases. I don't think she blew our cover.

We spread across the county in search of bomb-making material, bringing back 910 kilos without much further trouble. It's been a hard night for Caleb, Steve and I, but we've finished the most difficult parts and we're pretty sure we can produce a decent explosives loadout without blowing ourselves to bits. Most of it's pretty tame stuff: fertilizer-based explosives, other secondary explosives, and gunpowder. We did get quite a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide/Organic Fuel Mixtures, but we're going to be very careful with that.

Tomorrow we'll visit the Henderson gang in the quarry. If it ain't an ambush we'll evaluate each other's strengths and weaknesses and discuss the strategy for our coming raid. Maria will take point on the mission, as Kate and us boys are still exhausted from our exertions during and after all the stealing.

[GM: I was rather surprised that Maria made the best thief. As a member of the paramilitary class, she had among the highest stats for infiltration and crime, allowing her to get in easily and find the best types of material for our uses.]

9th of September, 2000
Maria:

Doug Henderson has nice little band of zombies.

Had five top lieutenants present that were reasonably well-equipped. Better equipped than us in fact: AKMs with 75-drum magazines, military-grade body armour, grenades, sidearms...

His seven "sergeants" were also well off: one had WWII-vintage Gewehr 43 and a few more had SKS's (these may have been Chinese Type 63/68 rifles), the rest had semi-automatic AR-15s and Ruger Mini-14s. I am not sure how well they they can actually handle them.

Below that are some men, seven total, armed with combat shotguns and apparently-homemade submachine guns. Decent firepower at close range, but I do question their reliability.

His five "snipers" carry hunting and surplus bolt-action rifles of various types, many without benefit of scopes. I suppose they will come in handy keeping heads downs.

They'll be bringing two trucks and eight mules with them. The latter is necessary, as unguarded paths into Rails Gorge are few and can only be traveled by foot and hoof.

Steve:
Doug has someone working at the Lewisburg Yard who sent manifests for three trains that we might be interested in, a small train (one squad) heading to a Chinese-run coal mine in West Virginia, a mid-sized train (two squads) to a Russian helicopter base in Maryland, and large train (three squads) to a French garrison in North Carolina. We were told that the quality of the troops was about equal, so we picked the middle one.

They picked an area where we'll only need to take out two bunkers before moving on to the train. I and Maria will take most of the Henderson Men to simultaneously attack the bunkers and then move on to the train. Jimmy will lead a small force to sneak into the gorge, wreck the rails in front of and behind the train, and prevent the train guards from getting out or any help from getting in. Kate will command the snipers on the ridges and Caleb stays with the mounts and acts as our reserve. We'll only have an hour between our first shots being fired and choppers arriving on scene, so we'll have to move fast, but I think it can be done and possibly without casualties.

We have until the 13th to be ready.

Kate:
There's one more thing to add: Doug was very worried about a triple-murder of his "associates" in Dunnet a few days ago. Whoever did it used a .45, possibly with a silencer, and a small ax of some kind. Pincher County Sheriff's office is worried. They feel like it was the work of a professional killer, he does too, and he wants to know if we have any idea of who might be responsible.

Um, no. Of course we don't.

Strategy Notes: How NOT to do it.

http://attackthesystem.com/how-not-to-do-it/

[GM: Words of Harold Covington, infamous neo-nazi leader (so racist, Ian Smith had him kicked out of Rhodesia) who nonetheless offers a wealth of sound advice. Have to wonder what he'd think of my little interracial Junior Militia Movement here in the North Georgia foothills. In any event, Keith Preston has redacted most of the "Hate the Jooz" rhetoric from this article, which you can find in its original form if your wish]

OUR MOVEMENT HAS ONE GREAT TALENT: we are absolute aces at demonstrating how NOT to go about resisting tyranny and genocide. That statement is only about half sarcastic; negative lessons can be of benefit IF WE CAN LEARN FROM THEM, an ability we don’t seem to be able to develop. The latest is that some “American militia group” has been busted in Canada, of all places, “training” out in the north woods somewhere, with (of course) an arsenal of weapons which has now been confiscated. Depending on the degree of corruption in the RCMP or provincial police units involved, the guns will either be destroyed or sold on the black market to criminals. Certain it is that not one single round from any of those weapons will ever be fired at the state enemy. I don’t know many further details, but I don’t need to. We’ve all heard the story before.

Look, I know none of you militia or survivalist types or McVeigh wannabes out there are going to listen to me. I have come to accept down through the years that the gods have afflicted me with the Curse of Cassandra; I speak the truth and it goes in one ear and out the other. Nonetheless, it is my duty to speak on. I am going to tell you some things about guerrilla warfare. I am far more entitled to speak on this subject that 90% of you. I have served in two armies and two wars, and I have lived in three countries, (Rhodesia, South Africa, and Ireland) which were undergoing guerrilla insurgency, plus I study history and politics and revolutionary movements as a lifelong vocation. Acting on the highly tenuous proposition that you guys are serious if muddled in your intentions and are not simply acting out middle-aged Rambo fantasies, I am going to give you a few pointers on how NOT to wage an insurrection against a powerful and entrenched regime.

Now, do I need to stick in the usual ritual disclaimers here, in order to advise you what NOT to do? Hmmm… probably not. Okay, we won’t bother with the semantic fig leaves this time we generally use to try and pretend we’re not really saying what we’re saying.[1] Now attend:

1. DIRECT ACTION REVOLUTIONARY MOVEMENTS DO NOT HAVE POST OFFICE BOXES. They do not have newsletters. They do not have web pages. They do not solicit donations in the mail from right-wing mailing lists. They do not maintain mailing lists themselves or keep any written records of any kind for the enemy to seize.

2. DIRECT ACTION REVOLUTIONARY MOVEMENTS *ACT*. THEY DO NOT *TALK*. I am presently fighting my own fight with words. I do not pretend otherwise. If I felt that armed revolt was appropriate for the place and time and for me personally then I would not be talking, I would be shooting. I would NOT be talking about how I was going to start shooting just any old time now when the spirit moved me.

Nor would I be sending people threats in the mail or leaving threatening messages on their answering machines and getting myself a lengthy prison sentence. This is the act of an idiot. Threatening someone at all is the act of an idiot. If you genuinely mean to carry out your threat then you are simply putting your target on his guard.[2] If you don’t mean to carry out your threat then you are a coward and a disgrace to the cause you purport to serve who makes us all look ridiculous. A large part of the lack of respect our point of view commands in this country is due to the fact that so many of our people are quite obviously pompous blowhards who dress up in camouflage uniforms and wave their semi-autos in the air for the television cameras talking and bragging about all the valiant deeds they’re going to do at some unspecified time down the pike. PLEASE don’t make fools of yourself and fools of the rest of us by doing this.

There’s an old saying, “Don’t Talk the Talk if you’re not going to Walk the Walk”. I disagree. Don’t Talk the Talk at all, under any circumstances. Either DO IT and KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT both before and after — or just plain keep your mouth shut.

3. DO NOT STOCKPILE WEAPONS. DO NOT STOCKPILE EXPLOSIVES. DO NOT STOCKPILE ANYTHING AT ALL. Stockpiles are nothing but nice, juicy propaganda plums for the BATF to seize. If you have a stockpile, given the poor quality of the so-called “guerrillas” the militias et. al. attract, some pale-skinned scumbag will eventually rat you out to save his own wretched hide. You will lose your stockpile and your freedom. There will be NO OTHER RESULT from stockpiling, because the fact that you stockpile indicates that you are not serious. Yes, yes, I know the I.R.A. stockpiles guns and explosives. They also lose whole arsenals every year to the Garda and the R.U.C., 150 Kalashnikovs at a time still in their original Libyan wrappings, that kind of thing. The I.R.A. stockpiles because they have a long ingrained love affair with guns almost as intense as that of the American right, although theirs is based on the long-standing British policy of prohibiting all Irish people from carrying weapons of any kind. They tend to overdo it for psychological reasons. But the Provos never have more than about FIFTY PEOPLE on “active service” at any given time in the North and maybe a dozen or so on mainland Britain and in Europe; their ratios of talkers to doers is almost as bad as ours, although at least they do have a few fighters. They always have far more guns than they have men willing to pull the trigger.[3]

Weapons of war in a truly insurrectionary movement do not belong in stockpiles, they belong in the hands of revolutionaries so the revolutionaries can use them and will not be caught unarmed. A serious guerrilla team parcels out the weapons and makes each man responsible for his own armament.

Leave explosives alone unless you really—REALLY—know what the hell you’re doing with them. The first explosives to start your people off with are hand grenades, not big huge truck bombs or strange concoctions your science nerd whips up in his basement. (Oklahoma City doesn’t count; it is an exception to all rules until we know exactly who was responsible and why, which we probably never will.) Grenades are almost idiot-proof (which recommends them highly to American revolutionaries; properly used, grenades can be a devastating weapon of urban guerrilla warfare. Don’t fool around with anything homemade.[4]

4. YOU DO NOT NEED FULLY AUTOMATIC WEAPONS. Do not buy them. Do not stockpile them. Expel from your group immediately anyone who offers to procure them for you: he is a police agent. Unless you are properly trained in their use, machine guns are more dangerous to you than they are to the enemy. Machine guns are not toys with which you may play John Wayne on the Sands of Iwo Jima; I once saw a stupid moron at Fort Jackson come very short because he’d watched too many movies and thought his M-60 was a toy. Given the mentality of many of our “freedom fighters”, the urge for them to play with automatic weapons if you have them will be too great to resist.

Automatic weapons have two specific uses in military tactics. One is for the defense of established positions. The other is as part of a highly-trained and properly led fire team, for use in fire-and-maneuver assaults. You are not going to be engaging in Rambo-like shoot-outs with police and troops — at least not more than once. A large part of your guerrilla tactics will consist of striking at the enemy while AVOIDING such entrapments. You do not have that kind of skill and training level. (No, you don’t.) You can accomplish anything you need to accomplish to attain the initial objectives of an insurrectionary movement with other weapons.

What weapons? Friends, the most devastating personal weapon for hand to hand combat ever invented is the lowly SHOTGUN, sawed off as short as possible. When you start accumulating your initial weapons stocks, buy shotguns and handguns, a FEW good rifles with high-powered scopes and a FEW good semi-autos. (SKSes are junk; avoid them, but most any other semi-auto long gun will serve). Buy these weapons LEGALLY and store them safely, but do not stockpile in barns or anything that hints at illegal intentions. Do not flourish them, display them, or let anyone know you have them. Do NOT buy guns in excessive quantity, and do not saw off your shotguns below the legal limit until the legal line has been breached and you’re going to jail anyway.

5. THE MEDIA AND THE POLICE SHOULD NOT EVEN KNOW THAT YOU EXIST. No press conferences, no press releases, no camera crews, no interviews, nothing that would tip your hand. When the time for direct action comes, the media are to be considered legitimate military targets. They are not our friends, not under any circumstances. Do not try to “use” them; they will use you.

Incredibly, the vast majority of American “revolutionary” groups do not practice the most basic, rudimentary security precaution of all, KEEPING THEIR MEMBERSHIP CONCEALED FROM THE ENEMY. The WORST possible catastrophe a fledgling guerrilla group can have is for one or more of its members to be identified by the government forces.

6. DO NOT WEAR UNIFORMS OF ANY KIND. If you do not understand why this is an absolute necessity, then do not attempt any kind of insurrectionary activity. You don’t have sufficient intelligence to so do successfully.[5]

7. NEVER DEFEND—ATTACK! The basic “strategy” of most militia groups, insofar as they have any (which isn’t very far) is based on static defense of their communities. Against system pigs or outlaws in a time of total social breakdown, that may be a feasible goal. Against the Federal government — the most likely attacker of any radical community — this outlook is absurd and suicidal. (Again, this assumes with a BIG suspension of disbelief that the present “militias” would resist at all instead of throwing down their guns and blubbering to the D.A. for a plea bargain.) Never, never, NEVER allow yourself to be pinned down in a “compound” of any kind. You are facing the most overwhelming concentration of military and police power in human history. To be surrounded is the end. Period.

8. DO NOT ROB BANKS or commit other criminal fund-raising acts (like writing Freeman-style bad checks) until you have already established your revolutionary bona fides by several very high-profile attacks against the ruling class enemy. This appears to be what happened to the so-called “Aryan Revolutionary Army”; they wanted to be the Order but so far as is known never struck a blow at the enemy other than to rob banks containing the hard-earned money of people which was insured by the FDIC. This is the worst possible publicity they could have received; the public in the Northwest now views anti-government people as criminals and bank robbers. Thanks a lot, guys.

How do you raise your initial funds? I’ll tell you how, and I’m not joking. SELL THE DAMNED COMPOUND! Use the money to buy TRANSPORT, vans, RVs, trucks, vehicles which can transport men and weapons and supplies for small fire teams who will MOVE and STRIKE and then escape and evade, then strike again, etc. You do not need land or anything else which may lead to your getting surrounded. Land is useless to you. Either you will (most likely) die and not need it, or you will win and you can then appropriate all the land you want.[6]

9. ESTABLISH AN ACHIEVABLE POLITICAL GOAL BEFORE YOU BEGIN. You are supposed to be guerrillas, not Natural Born Killers on some kind of pointless bloodbath spree. Violence is a MEANS to an END, not an end in itself. One of the reasons the I.R.A. has failed is they’ve been taken over by hate-mad psychos who have either forgotten this or never knew it.

10. THE BEST IDEA YET–FORGET THE WHOLE THING. We have completely wasted the past thirty years, comrades. That is a fact. Some of this wastage was due to sincere and hopeful expeditions down some dead ends which, in retrospect, were pretty obvious. The Duck Club and electoral politics are two examples which spring to mind. We have also been plagued with a series of self-appointed leaders who have been corrupt, incompetent, and dishonest, and we are still plagued with some of these holdovers from the past. You can yell and scream and moan and spread rumors that I’m a government agent all you want, but that’s a fact as well.

Had we not wasted those thirty years, it is possible that we might be in a position to engage in an armed insurrection against NWO. We are not, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either a fool or a REAL police agent. I am telling you to get your heads together and learn. I am not asking you to die for your race. I am asking you to LIVE for it, and more difficult, I am asking you to WORK for it.

I know this is a message many don’t want to hear.

Footnotes:
1. lulz

2. It might be worth noting that not a single successful American assassin has ever threatened their target before striking. Clearly, threats are for amateurs.

3. Stockpile food, not guns. What he later says about property could more easily apply to guns: either you'll die and not need them, or you'll find plenty left lying around after the smoke clears.

4. Obviously this doesn't apply in game, as we're all supergeniuses and our HOOAH will save us.

Actually, I've been greatly tempted to have my players suffer an own goal and offer them an option of ending their resistance movement on an even more pathetic note than the Weather Underground (wiped out by a cigarette, stupid hippies) or going back in time and downsizing their strategy a bit.

5. The purpose of a uniform is to be identified as a lawful combatant. Thing is, if you're a serious threat to the government and are fighting for anything that doesn't have a seat on the UN you'll probably be shot on sight no matter how you're dressed. Best not to be identified in the first place.

6. Property is a good thing to have if you're looking to the long-term (generational); having land that can be farmed pre-industially in the aftermath of the war. Don't expect to use it during the fighting (Direct action revolutionary movements do not hold territory) and don't become too reliant on your freehold if you don't want to be like the Boers when the Feds burn it to the ground.

006: Hunt and Seek

Jimmy's Diary
7th of September, 2000

Caleb and I made five carbide/match-head fragmentation grenades

I've made a scavenger's list of things that can potentially go "boom" and I'm going to be sending everyone out to burgle more local businesses later. We're giving a somewhat more circumspect list to the grandkids so they can pick up some of the ingredients on the way home from school.

We told them to grab an AP Chemistry book if they could—bombmaker's primer if there ever was one; less likely to get you killed than what you'll find in TM-31-210, the Improvised Munitions Handbook.

[Maria: Naturally, we won't expose our legals to anything more dangerous or suspicious than sending them to pick up flour and hydrogen peroxide along with grandma's groceries.]
[Steve: Indeed. Though you can get a decent blast with just that.]


Maria and Steve did well enough with the Hendersons. They wanted half the cargo plus a 30% finder's fee, they were talked down to 65% of the cargo on the condition that we all meet in the rock quarries on the ninth to show what we can bring to the table.Steve wanted and received full run of any salvageable components from the train itself, including the fuel.

[Steve: this is going to be a slightly lower grade diesel than what you could buy at the gas station; too thick and dirty to safely use in a standard automobile. So what can we do with bunker fuel? Plenty.]

They also plan on trying to find a truck for us. I suggested going to a neighboring county and stealing one off the DOT parking lot, but Steve wants to tow a junker back here and rebuild it. Seems like a waste of effort, but fair enough.

Caleb brought a small possum home from his hunt, but found no wild edibles. He said that he found the possum treed by a pack of coyotes, and chased them all off before shooting it. I asked him why he didn't shoot the coyotes, and he said that he would never eat dog. And yet, he has no problem eating an oversized rat? I swear, that boy...

Kate did a bit better, having more skill and having spent twice as long on her hunt. She brought back a large basket loaded with three days worth of greens and bagged four coyotes, the same coyotes whom Caleb had passed up earlier. This was accomplished with quite a bit of excitement, which I won't go into just yet.

Kate:
But I will, because "a bit of excitement" doesn't quite cover what I went through to bring a bit of meat home.

I was in this excellent little poacher's holler. High ridges and thick foliage to keep the report of a rifle from traveling, hard to reach by anything but foot, plenty of game trails and a nice creek to follow. The thing about perfect places, though, is that you're seldom the only one to find them. I ran into two other hunting parties in the area. Steered clear of them as instructed, though I noticed one was wearing fatigues and carrying at least one military-style rifle. Fellow partisans, perhaps?

I came upon the aforementioned pack of coyotes, drew a bead with my Winchester Model 70 and fired. One went down, the other six sniffed the air, one more went down, they found my scent and surprisingly bolted towards me, seeking vengence on whomever attacked their friends.

It took seconds for them to close the hundred meters between themselves and I. I fired two more times, killing one more and wounding another. A third shot missed and at this point one of them collided with me, chomping down on my rifle and wresting it from my hand.

I pulled my S&W 1911 and fired twice, I also drew my hatchet and cleaved the animal's skull. Another coyote dove at me but I dodged and fired into it as well. At this point they must have decided I wasn't worth it; I equipped my .243 Browning BLR and opened up on them as they fled, dropping one more.

I finished off the wounded, gutted my kills without delay, left what I couldn't carry hanging in a tree and made Steve go back to get it. Maybe that wasn't such a great hunting spot after all.

[GM Note: I had my niece and nephew roll on a random encounters table to represent the outcome of their hunts. Caleb encountered "3D6 dogs", which the guide said could be interpreted as 2D6 wolves but which I interpreted to be a pack of 2D6 coyotes (coyote-wild dog mixes more likely; they're actually something of a problem in the Eastern United States). He was willing to shoot wolves, but not coyotes. So I gave him a small possum as a consolation prize.

The dice were likewise unfriendly to Kate, so I gave her the same scenario. Naturally, she blasted the biggest meatbags she could get in her crosshairs. Good girl.]

005: Joint Venture

Yeah, we do watch a few modern shows around here.

Electricity had come to the Davis Farm in 1972; it was then that the power company put up a power pole that was now the most stable structure on the property. It held up a cattle barn, which held up a tool shed, which held up a turkey coop, which served as the office for the Henderson gang.

Thomas Armstrong Davis would roll in his grave if he could see what a mess his tweaker grandkids had made of the place. Junked cars and other assorted garbage littered the 42 acres, weeds covered the fields, pets and livestock had often been left to rot where they died, and neither the old home place nor the four trailers were fit for civilized inhabitants.

Doug had appropriated the property by calling in debts on some of the people living there: extrajudicial Fieri Facias[1], so to speak. Fixer-upper though it was, he figured it would make a nice place for him to lay low while plotting his return to power. Made a decent meeting place too, so long as no one thought he actually lived there.

"Interesting group of people." said Henry Marks, Henderson's second-in-command.

"Yeah, to Freud maybe." said Doug

"Maybe to us too." said Henry, watching from the office door as the visitors saddled up and trotted out, kicking up trickles of dust behind them. The turkey poults sharing the office chirped in surprise as he pulled the door shut. "You think they were really Mafya?" he asked.

"Seems they wanted us to think so, doesn't it? That could of been a Mafya soldier with them, or just some Ruskie deserter hitched up with the first band of Americanski she ran into. Who knows...

"Could be one of the Donner Parties, but I ain't heard of them working in this area yet, and they seldom deign to work with others anyway—santimonious, arrogant bunch of psychos.

"Could be local bushwackers, or some independent group transplanted here. They didn't act local and if they're independent they seem to be more skilled than usual—won't know that for sure till we meet again in the quarry.

"Could be cops pulling an entrapment scheme. We'll have to keep that in mind next time we meet, but Williams is too direct to pull off entrapment, not to mention too lazy. And no one higher than him still cares about us."

Henry went back to what he had been doing before the visit, cleaning out the coups.

"That's a little worrying though; if they can find us, what keeps Williams from doing it? Besides, ain't the Russian Mob supposed to be pro-globalist?"

"Williams is preoccupied, not to mention lazy." said Doug, smiling. "As for the mob, they're pro-globalist in the same way that Williams is, so long as it pays." Doug paused, peculating a fresh thought in his head as he thumbed through the roller deck on his desk.

"If these people, whoever they are, are as strong as they claim and see more profit in stealing from the NWO than working for it, then you might be right about this being an opportunity. We become Ivan's men in Pincher, maybe they'll find a way to help us put the the Williams' back in their place.

"I got a girl in Lewisburg, works at the rail depot, I get in touch with her and I'm sure she can get us some suitable timetables and manifests. Still, a train robbery..."

"Aw, come on." Henry nudged him "You remember playing us Train Robbers as kids—haven't you ever wanted to do it for real?"

1. My players start to glaze over when I break out the Latin, so I better define this:

In the past, and even today in some areas, when someone owed a debt but couldn't or wouldn't pay for it, the courts could order the sheriff to relieve them of and auction off something equivelant in value: be it livestock, a portion of their crops or property or a few of their prettiest daughters. It's a rarely issued writ these days (courts prefer to garnish wages now; taking a portion of your income instead), but it could easily return in a world as economically unstable as post-conquest America.