Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
Somehow, they found you. Not only that, they found out about you. And then the letter arrived, delivered by a sombre-faced but very polite Army captain. At the top of the letter, centered, stands boldly the Presidential Seal. After the salutation, the letter reads:
Your nation needs you. The world needs you.
I swore that I would "to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." I cannot, of course, do this alone. I need the help of all good men and women. I believe that you are one of these good people. I believe that you will answer your country's call to use your unique gifts on behalf of all freedom-loving peoples everywhere.
On December 14, at 8:00 a.m., please bring this letter to the guard at the main gate at Port Hueneme, which is just outside Los Angeles.
Thank you. I am certain you will not disappoint.
Sincerely,
Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Port Hueneme is a small Navy base. It is little more than a few warehouses surrounded by a chainlink fence topped by barbed wire. The SP on the gate glances without emotion at the letter and directs you to a drab gray box of a building. Another SP at that building's door lets you in.
You find yourself in a square room, its walls also drab gray. A box within a box. A closed, gray metal door sits off center in the opposite wall. There is a small square table and six metal folding chairs. A pot of very black coffee sits next to a half-dozen ceramic mugs. There is neither sugar nor cream. A sailor whose name tag and insignia identify him as PO3 Gaines stands in the corner near the opposite door. He nods as you enter.
"Have a seat, please," he says. "Would you like some coffee? Lieutenant Commander Johnson will be here shortly to brief you."
With these words, it is obvious that PO3 Gaines is not going to be inclined to either answer questions or make small talk. For time being, at least, there is nothing to do but remember the events of the past few days or perhaps talk to one of the other un-uniformed people in the room....
Your nation needs you. The world needs you.
I swore that I would "to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." I cannot, of course, do this alone. I need the help of all good men and women. I believe that you are one of these good people. I believe that you will answer your country's call to use your unique gifts on behalf of all freedom-loving peoples everywhere.
On December 14, at 8:00 a.m., please bring this letter to the guard at the main gate at Port Hueneme, which is just outside Los Angeles.
Thank you. I am certain you will not disappoint.
Sincerely,
Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Port Hueneme is a small Navy base. It is little more than a few warehouses surrounded by a chainlink fence topped by barbed wire. The SP on the gate glances without emotion at the letter and directs you to a drab gray box of a building. Another SP at that building's door lets you in.
You find yourself in a square room, its walls also drab gray. A box within a box. A closed, gray metal door sits off center in the opposite wall. There is a small square table and six metal folding chairs. A pot of very black coffee sits next to a half-dozen ceramic mugs. There is neither sugar nor cream. A sailor whose name tag and insignia identify him as PO3 Gaines stands in the corner near the opposite door. He nods as you enter.
"Have a seat, please," he says. "Would you like some coffee? Lieutenant Commander Johnson will be here shortly to brief you."
With these words, it is obvious that PO3 Gaines is not going to be inclined to either answer questions or make small talk. For time being, at least, there is nothing to do but remember the events of the past few days or perhaps talk to one of the other un-uniformed people in the room....
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