The Next Civil War

Colonel Ballard approached the intersection slowly. He was waved to the side by a young military police officer. “Good morning, sir. May I ask where you are going?”
Colonel Ballard looked around and noticed that everyone leaving the neighborhood was systematically being pulled over and questioned.
“I am going to my office, young man. What is going on here?”
“Yes, sir. And where exactly is your office?”
Colonel Ballard thought it odd that the lower-ranking MP had just completely ignored his question and, no less, had the nerve to interrogate him about his destination. However, he patiently answered the question before scolding the young man. “I run the Equipment Issue Department. Just what exactly is this all about, Private?”
“Sir, you work with Major Henderson in equipment issue, is that right?” The young soldier immediately changed his tone and stood tall instead of leaning next to Colonel Ballard’s car.
“At ease, son.” Colonel Ballard had no idea what to think at this point. He stared at the young man quizzically. “Yes, that’s right. Major Henderson and I have been working together and have been good friends for many years.”
“Very good, sir! You may proceed, but please go directly to your office. Major Henderson has requested your presence there, and he wanted me to tell you that this is an urgent matter.”
The young man snapped to attention, waved his white glove motioning to allow Colonel Ballard to pass, and saluted LaRon’s vehicle as it passed through the intersection.
LaRon pulled away slowly, trying to figure out just exactly what the hell was going on this morning. Everything seemed completely out of place, out of order, and different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He glanced in his rearview mirror just in time to see the MPs pull a white officer out of his car, handcuff him, and place him in a jeep.
That’s when it occurred to him—all of the MPs at the intersection were black! “No,” he mumbled to himself and shook his head, “it’s just a coincidence.”
Still a little confused and sensing that the base was in a state of disarray, he sped up in an effort to get to his office as quickly as possible. He was anxious to find a place that was familiar to him, a place that would somehow let him know that this was just another typical morning at Fort Benning, Georgia. As important, he wanted to know what Major Henderson needed him for.
While he turned his car around the last corner before his destination, he was able to see his office in the distance and again noticed that something was strangely out of place. There were military combat vehicles—Humvees, personnel carriers, even tanks—everywhere. They surrounded his office building in a random fashion, and soldiers moved about everywhere.
That’s when it hit him. The soldiers! Every single one of them was fully armed and in combat gear! The men at the intersection in his neighborhood, the men around his building, men walking throughout the base—all of them were armed!
His car came to a stop in the parking lot. Colonel Ballard was immediately surrounded by armed soldiers. His car door was pulled open quickly.
“Please step out of the vehicle with your hands in full view, sir.” The young corporal had a very commanding tone and demeanor about him as he signaled to his men.
“What’s this all about, Corporal?”
“All due respect, sir, but Major Henderson is our commanding officer now. He did tell us to look for you, though. Come with us, sir.” The corporal nodded to a soldier standing next to him, did an about-face, and began walking toward the building.
Colonel Ballard followed, but not without the gentle nudge of the other soldier, who was now behind him. The hand holding his weapon pressed into the small of the colonel’s back.
As they made their way to Major Henderson’s office, Colonel Ballard was both amazed and impressed with what he saw. A very well-disciplined, organized operation was under way. Everyone had a job to do and was very busy. The primary storage bay had been converted into a command center complete with the latest in technological and communications equipment. His quiet admiration of what was going on around him was interrupted.
“Sir!” The corporal came to attention and saluted Major Henderson, who was sitting at his desk. “Colonel Ballard, as you requested, sir!”
“Very good, Corporal. You’re dismissed.” Major Henderson also nodded to the accompanying soldier, who likewise stood at attention and saluted before doing an about-face and quickly stepping out of the room.
“What the hell is this all about, Reggie!?”
“Are you with us or against us, Colonel?” Major Henderson stood and made his way around the desk to get closer to LaRon.
“Excuse me?”
“I need to know if you are on our side or theirs!”
“Whose side, Reggie? Who are ‘they,’ and what is this all about?”
“Can’t you see what has happened here? It’s the Black Heritage Army, LaRon. Yesterday I wasn’t sure if I should tell you the whole story. I wasn’t sure if you were ready to deal with the reality of what our people have to face every day. In fact, I’m still not sure if you even consider yourself to be one of us.”
Colonel Ballard still needed clarification. “By ‘one of us,’ you mean who, exactly?”
“I mean a black man, LaRon, and a proud member of the Black Heritage Army, someone who sees the racism around him for what it is, not for what the white man wants us to think it is. By saying ‘one of us,’ I mean someone who is willing to fight for our freedom—real freedom—not this lip-service world that they want us to believe in. I’m talking about the kind of freedom that our people deserve—the kind of freedom that we should have been given more than a hundred years ago.”
Colonel Ballard was still confused. “I still don’t know what you are trying to accomplish here, though. What can we possibly do to effect a change on an entire nation? Furthermore, what’s the answer to the issue of our freedom? What exactly would we want, and how do you expect to get it?”
The major continued. “Since the time of our first meeting almost five years ago, the Black Heritage Army has evolved into much more than just a place for black people to meet and to discuss political issues. At one of the meetings, a small group pointed out that we have a significant amount of power, and force, right at our fingertips.”
Reggie stood now and became more animated, gesturing with his hands at every opportunity to stress his points to LaRon.
“Don’t you see? Collectively, we have access to nearly forty percent of the entire arsenal of the United States’ armed forces! The southeastern states alone have over twenty-five military bases—army, air force, navy—hell, a full forty percent of the stateside fighting force can be found within a thousand miles of here!”
“Reggie, that’s ridiculous,” LaRon said, responding to this statement rather condescendingly. “Are you suggesting that the Black Heritage Army might take over the United States military?”