WHO IS DEFENDING THE ARMY?
by OPOVV, ©2015
(Feb. 15, 2015) — ACT I
House lights dim as the curtain rises to the music of Bach’s Prelude of “Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1. The stage lights are very dim and slowly brighten as the curtain is raised and the music ends. The stage is set as the wardroom of a Navy oilier/supply ship. There are a few officers and a couple of NCO’s sitting around the table and, as the music ends, the captain enters from a door, stage left. The men casually stand to attention.
Captain: (as he takes the chair at the head of the table, the men also sit) “At ease. Be seated. I got a problem that I need to kick around, which is why I’ve called you here. Now I know all of the officers are not present, and the reason is simple: the ones that are here are those of you that I think will do me the most good. Henderson?”
Henderson: (stands) “Yes, sir?”
Captain: “No need to stand, any of you. Henderson is the best radio operator we’ve got, even though he’s just been on board for less than a year, isn’t that so? Sit.”
Henderson: (sits) “Why, thank you, sir. It just comes naturally, I think. I mean, I’ve been a ham ever since I was a Boy Scout. Amateur radio operator, Sir.”
Captain: “Now I want you to tell these men here exactly what you told me, and don’t leave anything out.”
Henderson: “Yes, sir. Well, I was off watch and had a couple of hours after chow so decided I wanted to listen in on what was out there to hear; I mean, I brought my old Collins radio aboard and messed around with it. I was listening in when I intercepted a radio call for help. That was the very word, ‘Help’, so I got interested and fine-tuned it and it turned out it was some of our guys in an ambush. They were surrounded, like, and were calling for help.”
Captain: “Take it easy. Calm down and go a little slower. So this Army patrol was out there in no-man’s-land and needed help. Now what?”
Henderson: “Well, that’s why I went to the Chief, sir, and why we woke up the XO, and why he woke you up. I mean, if I could hear him where we are, surely others can hear him, too. I mean to say, sir, nobody was answering him.”
Smith, the Weapons Officer: “Did you answer him? Did you ask any questions? Who are they? What unit?”
Henderson: “Oh, no, sir, I didn’t say anything. I just listened. But here’s the really strange part. Just for a fleeting second, or half-second, I heard a ‘received’ signal from, and you’re not going to believe this, heck, even I don’t believe this, but the received signal was from our embassy in Rome, I kid you not, and the reason why I remember the code is because it was on one of the tests at school, that different radios have different call numbers or letters.”
Smith: “So? So what?”
Henderson: “Well, nothing. No answer, nothing, not even anything forwarded. Silence, as if they shut down the net. That’s what. Kind-of reminded me of Benghazi, is what.”
Captain: “So, you see the problem? First, it seems that this Army squad needs help and that their base, or backup, hears them but isn’t answering. Why, I don’t know. So, I want to hear from each and every one of you in ten minutes. Just think about it. I’m getting a cup of coffee.”
As the captain stands, everyone also stands and watch him leave as he entered. Curtain lowers as Beethoven’s “Piano Sonata No. 14 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 27 No 2, 1st movement” is played and continues through to the curtain beginning to rise in Act II.
ACT II
Curtain begins to rise as Beethoven’s Sonata ends and Chopin’s “Piano Sonata No. 2 in B Flat minor, OP 35” begins. The stage is set as before with the officers and men talking and gesturing wildly, yet not making a sound: the only sound we hear is that of Chopin. When the music ends we hear the captain speak.
Captain: “In light of the new information, I must conclude that we can do nothing. Henderson says the net is as quiet as a church mouse. I called on a friend of mine, a general who you’ve all seen on Fox News, one of the few men I truly admire as a Patriot and I trust him, and even he can’t get squat out of his contacts. It doesn’t look good for our brothers in arms. However, Henderson has an idea that’ll float, I believe.”
Henderson: “Yes, sir. I’ve got a couple of my ham friends scattered around the world and I’m going to give them everything we have, which is nothing, really, but someone’s got to know what’s going on.”
Smith: “And you can leave us, our ship, out of it?”
Henderson: “Piece of cake. Let’s just say you can’t beat a one-time code and you can’t beat Pony Express, got it?”
Smith: “Got it. Well done, Henderson.”
Captain. “Okay, Henderson, do your best to get the word out: this Administration is setting our troops up to be slaughtered. And just like Benghazi, no cavalry. Let me add that our general friend is fit to be tied, so this is not the end.
“Henderson, I want you to monitor this Army squad. You’re off regular duty until this ends. Keep me informed, especially if they slip up and mention the unit and where they are. They’re out there somewhere, and if we knew exactly where, the captain on the frigate that we just fueled has a few Tomahawk missiles that just may be ‘accidentally’ fired to help our guys. Mum’s the word. Dismissed.”
The lights dim as the music of Liszt’s “Liebestraum No. 3 in A Flat Major” is heard. The stage lights go out save for one spotlight, stage center-front, shining straight down, and, one by one, the men around the table pick up posters measuring 2’ X 5’, each having a few words on it, and parade through the spotlight, showing the audience: “Declaration of Independence,” “Old Ironsides,” “World War I,” “Mt. Surabachi,” “Chosin Reservoir,” “Chu Lai,” “Kuwait,” “Fort Hood,” “Benghazi,” “Who gave the ‘Stand-down’ order?” “BIRTH CERTIFICATE” and, as the music ends and the curtain is lowered, Old Glory.
FINI