![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
GWOT VI - Logistics
GWOT VI - Logistics
The sprawling facility had changed hands several times during the War. Army Reserve, FEMA, Homeland, Resistance (briefly), Homeland again, then the Resistance for a while.
Now it belonged to the California Republic, and the plan was to keep it that way.
The sergeants looked at the order. Cubed out for air transport. To be broken down at destination. Humanitarian relief efforts in Iowa.
"That's an awful lot of machine gun ammunition for a rescue mission," the transportation sergeant commented.
"Depends on who you're rescuing from what," retorted the supply sergeant as he wrestled with the balky computer.
###
"We won't be needing much oxygen," the surgeon corrected. "This will be backpack medicine. We'll use it if we find it, but given a choice between O2 and dressings, I'll carry more dressings. But what we'll need is more instruments. And sterilizers."
###
"No conceivable volume of food could make any difference. Not at a pound per person per day. But a field kitchen, with spices… that's a game changer. We'll be cooking over open fires before this is over, and be grateful of the chance. Yes, the big knives. Do you think cows just fall apart into steaks and chops when you touch their nose?"
###
"This is my entire stock of water purification equipment!"
"And if you had more, we'd take that too."
###
The automatic mortar was a beautiful piece of equipment. 81mm bombs at one every two seconds, sharing the love almost as fast as rockets, and much more safely.
She shook her head sadly and moved on. Ammo hog.
This would be grenade work. Tube launched and hand thrown.
No one ever died from having too _many_ grenades.
###
"There's two field fuel testing kits available. One is in Los Angeles and the other in Redding."
"Get them both. Governor's priority."
###
Mo frowned at his son.
"No," he started and ended the conversation.
It was unspoken. One of them needed to survive to carry on the family line.
So Mo Junior was not going to Iowa.
This would be work for a master blaster.
Some bridges need to be built.
Others need to be blown up.
###
"Forty five cases of zip ties," the MP sergeant marveled.
"Twelve hundred feet of hempen rope. In one hundred foot lengths. Breaking strain between 400 and 700 pounds."
"What's that for?" a private asked.
"Study your task book. And your knots."
The private would find out soon enough. And nothing was as cruel as a poorly tied hangman's noose.
###
The gun truck had been captured from Homeland. Some of the guns had been stripped off. The ammunition feed system had been replaced. Armor added.
A ring of armed guards surrounded the gun truck, facing outward. Two of them carried the distinctive submachine guns of the Strategic Defense Force. For with to kill other California Republic soldiers.
Within the truck, an SDF Captain and the Major were fumbling with something.
They straightened and got out. Most of the armed guards were dismissed to their duties.
The SDF guards remained. They would remain, taking turns on watch, until the gun truck left to be loaded on the plane.
###
The engineer captain inspected the hand tools again.
"Three times the normal load of files and grinders," he noted to himself. "Not enough."
###
On the drill field, a peculiar evolution.
Thirty soldiers riding bicycles. Rolling forward, suddenly dumping the bikes, coming up with their rifles, walking forward, alternating between shouting BANG! and short runs.
"Again," their sergeant called.
The Major watching. Turned to his orderly.
"Check the roster. How many bicycle mechanics do we have with us? Find them, designate them, requisition tools and parts. I want a full bicycle shop with us."
"Where do we get the bikes?"
"Same place we get our food, our fuel and our vehicles."
###
Magnetic and plastic signs. Plug in flashing lights. Vehicle radios and antennas.
The stack of signs took up little space.
"CALIFORNIA REPUBLIC" with the Bear and "CA RAPID REACTION FORCE" for the sides of vehicles.
"100% SEARCH OF ALL PERSONS AND VEHICLES" paired with "IF YOU TURN AWAY YOU WILL BE SHOT" for security control points.
"KEEP BACK OR YOU WILL BE SHOT" for the backs of vehicles.
Plastic signs for wiring up.
"MILITARY ZONE, OFF LIMITS, THIS MEANS YOU."
"KEEP OUT OR YOU WILL BE SHOT."
"MINES" and "GAS MINES" in their deadly little triangles.
"DETENTION AREA. NO TALKING."
STOP signs they would acquire locally.
But some things are universal, whether you share a language or not.
A pointed rifle is an excellent STOP sign.
###
Most important of all. Military duct tape. Cases and cases of it.
Some things need to be stuck together.
Other things need to fall apart.
The sprawling facility had changed hands several times during the War. Army Reserve, FEMA, Homeland, Resistance (briefly), Homeland again, then the Resistance for a while.
Now it belonged to the California Republic, and the plan was to keep it that way.
The sergeants looked at the order. Cubed out for air transport. To be broken down at destination. Humanitarian relief efforts in Iowa.
"That's an awful lot of machine gun ammunition for a rescue mission," the transportation sergeant commented.
"Depends on who you're rescuing from what," retorted the supply sergeant as he wrestled with the balky computer.
###
"We won't be needing much oxygen," the surgeon corrected. "This will be backpack medicine. We'll use it if we find it, but given a choice between O2 and dressings, I'll carry more dressings. But what we'll need is more instruments. And sterilizers."
###
"No conceivable volume of food could make any difference. Not at a pound per person per day. But a field kitchen, with spices… that's a game changer. We'll be cooking over open fires before this is over, and be grateful of the chance. Yes, the big knives. Do you think cows just fall apart into steaks and chops when you touch their nose?"
###
"This is my entire stock of water purification equipment!"
"And if you had more, we'd take that too."
###
The automatic mortar was a beautiful piece of equipment. 81mm bombs at one every two seconds, sharing the love almost as fast as rockets, and much more safely.
She shook her head sadly and moved on. Ammo hog.
This would be grenade work. Tube launched and hand thrown.
No one ever died from having too _many_ grenades.
###
"There's two field fuel testing kits available. One is in Los Angeles and the other in Redding."
"Get them both. Governor's priority."
###
Mo frowned at his son.
"No," he started and ended the conversation.
It was unspoken. One of them needed to survive to carry on the family line.
So Mo Junior was not going to Iowa.
This would be work for a master blaster.
Some bridges need to be built.
Others need to be blown up.
###
"Forty five cases of zip ties," the MP sergeant marveled.
"Twelve hundred feet of hempen rope. In one hundred foot lengths. Breaking strain between 400 and 700 pounds."
"What's that for?" a private asked.
"Study your task book. And your knots."
The private would find out soon enough. And nothing was as cruel as a poorly tied hangman's noose.
###
The gun truck had been captured from Homeland. Some of the guns had been stripped off. The ammunition feed system had been replaced. Armor added.
A ring of armed guards surrounded the gun truck, facing outward. Two of them carried the distinctive submachine guns of the Strategic Defense Force. For with to kill other California Republic soldiers.
Within the truck, an SDF Captain and the Major were fumbling with something.
They straightened and got out. Most of the armed guards were dismissed to their duties.
The SDF guards remained. They would remain, taking turns on watch, until the gun truck left to be loaded on the plane.
###
The engineer captain inspected the hand tools again.
"Three times the normal load of files and grinders," he noted to himself. "Not enough."
###
On the drill field, a peculiar evolution.
Thirty soldiers riding bicycles. Rolling forward, suddenly dumping the bikes, coming up with their rifles, walking forward, alternating between shouting BANG! and short runs.
"Again," their sergeant called.
The Major watching. Turned to his orderly.
"Check the roster. How many bicycle mechanics do we have with us? Find them, designate them, requisition tools and parts. I want a full bicycle shop with us."
"Where do we get the bikes?"
"Same place we get our food, our fuel and our vehicles."
###
Magnetic and plastic signs. Plug in flashing lights. Vehicle radios and antennas.
The stack of signs took up little space.
"CALIFORNIA REPUBLIC" with the Bear and "CA RAPID REACTION FORCE" for the sides of vehicles.
"100% SEARCH OF ALL PERSONS AND VEHICLES" paired with "IF YOU TURN AWAY YOU WILL BE SHOT" for security control points.
"KEEP BACK OR YOU WILL BE SHOT" for the backs of vehicles.
Plastic signs for wiring up.
"MILITARY ZONE, OFF LIMITS, THIS MEANS YOU."
"KEEP OUT OR YOU WILL BE SHOT."
"MINES" and "GAS MINES" in their deadly little triangles.
"DETENTION AREA. NO TALKING."
STOP signs they would acquire locally.
But some things are universal, whether you share a language or not.
A pointed rifle is an excellent STOP sign.
###
Most important of all. Military duct tape. Cases and cases of it.
Some things need to be stuck together.
Other things need to fall apart.