“Surely this can’t go on,” Ellen said. “Someone will stop it.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Congress? The Supreme Court?”
“He controls Congress, they don’t control him. And he got rid of the Supreme Court and replaced it with his own court. And, you heard him say it yourself: he has declared the Constitution to be null and void.”
“Then we will vote him out,” Ellen said.
“You are assuming there is going to be another election,” Bob said.
“He can’t stop the elections, Bob. The people won’t let him.”
“Ohmshidi stopping the next election isn’t the problem,” Bob said. “The problem is we will no longer be a nation by the time the next election is due.”
At Fort Rucker the next morning the Stars and Stripes flag was run up the flagpole; then a cannon shot was fired and the bugle call for Retreat Ceremony was played. Normal procedure for retreat was for all soldiers, wherever on the base they may be, to stop what they were doing. If they were driving, they were required to stop alongside the road, get out, face the flag even if they couldn’t see it, and salute.
That was exactly what was happening now, though many wondered if there was some sort of mistake. Retreat was at the end of the duty day, not at the beginning.
On the parade ground as Retreat sounded, a soldier slowly, and stately, lowered the Stars and Stripes. Then, very deliberately, and with as much dignity as could be mastered, two soldiers folded the flag into a triangle shape, so that only the blue field showed, without even a trace of the red. The flag was presented to a sergeant, who then presented it to General Clifton von Cairns. After presenting the flag, the sergeant took one step back and saluted. Von Cairns stuck the folded flag under his left arm, then returned the sergeant’s salute.
“Sergeant, dismiss the detail,” the general ordered.
“Shall we hoist the new flag, sir?” the sergeant replied.
“No. Dismiss the detail.”
A broad grin spread across the sergeant’s face. “Yes, sir!” he said, proudly. Then he did a smart about-face and called out, “Retreat detail dismissed!”
General von Cairns walked back into the headquarters building and into his office. Once inside his office, he closed the door, opened the drawer of his desk, took out a bottle of whiskey, removed the cap, then turned it up to his lips. He had long ago quit using a glass.
Colonel Ruben Sturgis, MC, the hospital commander, called his staff together. At one time there were twenty doctors, forty nurses, and sixty enlisted personnel on duty at the hospital. Today there were two doctors, three nurses, and one sergeant present for the meeting.
“Dr. Urban, you are the chief surgeon now, so this comes under your bailiwick. Effective immediately we are to provide no more care to retired personnel, nor to those who are qualified under VA,” Colonel Sturgis said.
“What are we to do with those we have now?” Dr. Urban said.
“Discharge them,” Sturgis said.
“Colonel, we have three in intensive care. If we discharge them immediately, they will die before nightfall.”
“What is their prognosis?” Sturgis asked.
“I’ll let Dr. Presley answer that,” Urban said.
“Not good,” the younger of the two doctors said. “The truth is, I doubt any of them will live to the end of the week. They are all three in extremis, and we simply don’t have the medication to treat them.”
Colonel Sturgis drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, keep them. Discharge the ones that we can, and admit no one new.”
“Colonel, we have no orderlies left,” Julie said.
“How many enlisted personnel do we have left?” Colonel Sturgis asked.
“I’m the only one.”
“It isn’t just the enlisted personnel,” Karin said. “As far as I know, we are the only nurses left.” Karin took in the other two nurses with a wave of her hand.
“How many patients do we have now?”
“We have seven,” Julie said. “Four retired, two VA, and one active duty.”
“What is the condition of the active-duty patient?”
“I took out his appendix yesterday,” Dr. Presley said. “I was going to release him this afternoon.”
“Release everyone, except the three who are in ICU,” Sturgis said.
“Alright,” Dr. Urban said.
Sturgis pursed his lips, then let out a long breath. “Just so you know, I have submitted my retirement papers. That was just a formality, I don’t expect DA to act on them. Hell, I’m not even sure there is a DA anymore. I’m leaving tomorrow morning, no matter what. And if I leave, I don’t intend to hold any of you here. Chances are we aren’t going to even have an army within another month, if we last that long.”
“We were going to ask you about that,” one of the nurses said. “Linda and I were planning on leaving tomorrow.”
“I’m going as well,” Dr. Presley said.
“Will no one be here for the three ICU patients?” Sturgis asked.
“I’ll stay until the end of the week,” Dr. Urban said.
“I’ll stay as well,” Karin said.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Julie said.
“Look, I’ll stay too if you need me,” Sturgis said. “I feel bad about deserting you at a time like this.”
“We can handle it, Colonel,” Dr. Urban said. “Hell, there’s nothing to do but watch them die anyway.”
Sturgis looked at what was left of his staff, then nodded. “I don’t know where we are going from here,” he said. “But it has been a privilege to work with you. All of you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
George Gregoire paused for a long moment, his voice choking. He wiped a tear, then continued.
