'Tell him I'm not here, that I went home to play with my wife.'
Nesbitt put the phone back to his ear and relayed the first part of the message, listened for a moment, then covered the receiver again. 'No go, Major. He says it's very important.'
Everything in the 25th Armored Division was important. The trick was to know what really was important. Dixon decided that Michaelski, the brigade S-3, wouldn't be calling this time of day on a Friday unless it really was important. He picked up the phone, 'Dixon here. What's so hellfire important that it can't wait till Monday?'
'Tuesday, Scott. Don't forget this was going to be a three-day weekend.'
'Yeah, I remember. And I intend to keep it a three day weekend. So what is it you want?'
'I just got a call from Division that we are to stand by to receive a warning order. No one seems to know what it's about or when this warning will be given. I do know that anyone who is on leave is to be recalled and that the corps commander was called to D.C. and is currently en route back with some kind of order.'
Dixon straightened up and began to consider what the brigade S-3 was saying. 'Are we having an emergency re deployment exercise?'
'No. I know that for sure. You're not due a re deployment exercise.
But that's about all I know. Whatever it is, the division orders group is on alert to be prepared to assemble in fifteen minutes, and the Old Man wants the brigade orders group ready to go once Division is done with him.'
'So, no one knows anything except that everyone is to stand by. Are we initiating a full recall?'
'No one has said as much yet, Scott, but I would strongly advise you that you hang on to your staff and company commanders until we know what's going on for sure.'
There was a pause before Dixon replied, 'OK, Ralph, wilco. Just keep me posted. Colonel Childress isn't going to be thrilled about sitting around on a Friday evening waiting for Division.'
After hanging up the phone, Dixon walked out to Nesbitt's desk.
'Sergeant Nesbitt, get hold of the company commanders and tell them not to leave for home until they get word from the CO. If they've left already, have the company CQs get them back in. Pass the same word around to the staff, including our people. I'll be in the colonel's office for a few minutes.'
Without waiting for a response, Dixon headed down the hall toward the battalion commander's office, but stopped, turned and went back into his own office. He reached over his desk, picking up the phone receiver with one hand while hitting the preset button labeled HOME.
The colonel could wait another minute. Dixon needed to tell his wife not to hold dinner for him.
As luck would have it, Ed Lewis had no sooner closed and locked the door than the phone rang. He stood there for a moment, hand on the doorknob, and half turned, debating whether to forget it and walk away or go back in and answer it. From the car, his wife called for him to leave it. Lewis looked at the car, loaded with kids, camping gear and food. Three days' camping with a visit to the Grand Ole Opry was waiting for him. But wait it would.
He yelled to his wife to hang on a little longer while he answered the phone.
Put out by the untimely interruption, Lewis picked up the receiver and answered dejectedly with a simple 'Hello.'
'Ed, I'm glad I caught you.' It was Colonel Franklin from State Headquarters. 'I tried the armory, but no one was there. Is Hal still in town?' Hal was Harold R. Green, the commander of the 2nd Battalion, 354th Infantry (Mechanized), Tennessee National Guard.
'Yes, I believe he was going to stick around and catch up on some rest.
They've been dogging him kinda hard down at City Hall. What's up?'
'Ed, you've been federalized.'
Lewis stood there for a moment dumbfounded. 'Federalized? Me? What in the hell for?'
'Not just you, the whole battalion. Actually, the order doesn't go into effect until midnight tonight.'
'A Presidential order?'
'They're the best kind, aren't they?'
Lewis did not appreciate the colonel's poor attempt at humor. 'Christ, sir, what's going on?'
'I don't know, Ed. As soon as I have something, I'll let you know.
Until then, let's get the show on the road. Get your people moving and I'll start getting things ready from this end.'
'Who do we work for, the state or the 25th Armored Division?' 'Don't know, Ed. The order didn't say. It looked like someone simply copied the format out of the reg and sent it out without any additional instructions. Like I said, as soon as I have something, I'll pass it on. I have to go now, the Adjutant General just walked in.'
Ed went to the front door, yelled to his wife to get the kids out of the car and ran up the stairs to change into his BDUs.
After a dash through the city, through two stop signs, one red light and three near-misses, Lewis made it to the armory. He parked his car, still loaded with camping gear, in the slot marked 'Battalion XO.'
Captain Tim Walters, the full-time training officer and assistant S-3 for the battalion, was already in his office, talking on the phone. Other people were also present, most still in civilian clothes. Lewis saw the operations NCO, Master Sergeant Kenneth Mayfree, and motioned for him to come over.
'Kenny, have we gotten hold of the Old Man yet?'
'No, sir. Tim tried his office, his home and City Hall. No one has seen him since midafternoon, and no one answers at home.'
Lewis thought, Great, just great-the one time the stalwart of our community decides to slip out of town early for the weekend is the day someone decides to start World War Three. That last thought gave Lewis a sudden chill. Until that moment, he hadn't thought of war. His mind had been so busy trying to sort out what to do and whom to call that the reason for their being federalized wasn't given a second thought.
He looked around at the people in the armory moving about, going in and out of offices or talking on phones. They were all familiar to Lewis.
Not only had he been in the Guard with most of them for years, he had grown up with some of them and did business with many of them daily. At a glance, there seemed to be no difference from any night at the armory when the staff gathered for a short meeting or a weekend drill. But this was different. This wasn't going to be a short meeting or a drill. They were going to war.
That thought kept swimming around in his head as he went into his office and sat down at his desk. While millions of Americans were fleeing cities across the nation to enjoy the Memorial Day weekend, the 3rd Battalion, 354th Infantry, was going to war.
A small convoy of four long black Zil limousines raced through the deserted streets in the early-morning light. The General Secretary of the Communist
Party and the Foreign Minister, both fresh from the military airfield, were riding in the third car today. They, as well as other selected Party officials, had been 'out of place,' visiting other countries or at locations other than their normal duty positions. The General Secretary, having completed a visit to Finland, had been en route to a meeting with the
President of France when his aircraft was rerouted over East Germany back to Moscow. The Foreign Minister had been in Vienna, conferring with representatives of Israel on the matter of emigration of Soviet Jews.
He had left the Soviet Embassy in Vienna without notice and been whisked away on waiting Aeroflot liner. The two men had arrived at the military airfield outside Moscow within minutes of each other, satisfied that their part in the deception plan had been a success.
The General Secretary reclined in the backseat, his eyes closed but still awake. He was resting from his trip and preparing himself for the ordeal he knew they would all have to face shortly. It was important that he be able to portray the sincere, friendly image the Western news media had come to love, when he announced before the cameras that the Soviet Union had been forced to take military action to stabilize its southern borders. He knew that his story would not hold with those who knew the truth. It was not they whom he was interested in. It was the uninformed, the timid and those who favored 'peace in our time,' at any cost, that he wanted to sway. He had complete confidence that he could do so as he had done in the past.
Across from him, the Foreign Minister was less confident. He fidgeted with the hand loop hanging on the side of the limousine as he looked out the window with a blank stare. Hours of debate that had often degenerated into screaming matches had led to nought. The Foreign Minister knew they were making a serious error. Years of
