The White Man's War

Under General Thomasina Pridegon’s command, they prepared to roll into Russia. She already got the pass from the president and the secretary of defense. All of the branches of the United States military participated. But not all colors. Only the American Descendents of Slaves (ADOS) and Foundational Black Americans (FBA) found eligibility to fight. The reason? Reparations. The previous president had reduced the national deficit and debt down to the low hundred thousands by eliminating all governmental regulations and controls and instituing only taxes on consumption. In response, the Department of Defense had been boosted to a quadrillion dollars to round out the budget. Anyone who wished to receive the money but couldn’t serve because of injury or illness, or who would be deemed unfit, would have to take lesser amounts of money, somewhere in the millions. Family members of those who did fight could still qualify for receiving a deposit from the United States government.

Black men and women from seventeen to seventy-five served in one capacity or another. Those who chose not to serve and found themselves within this age bracket saw freedom from service as their right, just no payout of over two trillion dollars for each black for what their ancestors endured centuries before. General Thomasina Pridgeon looked at her clock. She wore a dark gray chiffon gown, fresh from a ball. Her husband napped upstairs, fast asleep, a world away from the night’s discussion.

“I’d say that the Marines should be landing anytime soon,” In her home office a fire blazed. Her achievements and photographs with dignitaries and business leaders adorned her walls. The light flickered and the overhead lamp showed a welcoming glow.

“We’ve got to show to the world that these all-black troops can do this,” Lieutenant General Vance Lum announced. His mess dress uniform still looked tidy and well-kept after the party. He swigged some gin and placed it down on the coaster.

“Yes, this is unprecedented. With just blacks fighting for their reparations, they're going to call this ‘The White Man’s War.’ He’s been in power so long that it would be thought of as a way for them to bow out and allow ADOS and FBA to do the fighting,” she replied.

“And the other races will be arguing whether this will be right…or not, come to think of it. They would’ve been fighting just to fight.”

“This war is going to be bigger because Iran is involved as well. North Korea and China are gearing up, too. This will be World War III and only blacks from America will be fighting in it,” She squashed a cigar as if it were a tiny piece of sausage in her ashtray.

“Yes, I think this will go rather smoothly. Every one of them will have to not pay taxes on the reparations. Two trillion dollars tax free to everyone who is black sounds like a good chunk of change.” Lum mentioned. He poured more top shelf gin.

“It is. And it’s selfish. That’s what makes it good. The years of struggle and strife that their forebears experienced will have to be documented now as a benefit monetarily. It will have to be shown in the history books for all time.” General Pridgeon rose from her seat. Lum shot to his own. She looked at him cross.

“Now, I know you outta sit down, Vance,” Thomasina announced.

“Of course. I’m still getting used to you outranking me.”

She laughed. It was a whole laugh, unburdened by stress or anxiety. She walked over to her window and saw hundreds of black troops committed to physical training.

“They’re going to say a lot. One thing they're going to say is, ‘if they want to fight, let ‘em.’ Also, they're going to be hurt by the idea of not fighting. That spirit the other races possess in fighting for their country has not been lost.”

“It will be this time around,” Lum grinned. He sipped some more.

“What I want to understand is that there is a definite fervor for blacks to be in the military now. I get it that they’ll be given roles in other services. All of the branches will have black generals on down to privates, airmen, specialists and seamen. The Marine Corps will see its first black Commandant. That in itself would be an achievement based solely on merit. I can agree to that.”

“I don’t think we’ve lost sight of this,” Lum said in a low and almost pleading tone. The door then opened.

“Good evening, ma’am, good evening sir,” Second Lieutenant Roswell Finkley addressed the two superior officers. “Here is digital correspondence to allow the troops to advance into Moscow.”

Thomasina looked at Lum. She shot back at the lieutenant. “Thank you, Finkley.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She opened up an app that made the United States involvement in the Third World War possible. She didn’t take it lightly. A ferocious calmness streaked across her face. Thomasina looked at Lum. His face looked like a corpse. He looked at the tablet that would give the full might of the American military its chance to show that blacks could fight all by themselves. For the first time in history, none of the other races would be eligible to battle on behalf of the US. Only Foundational Black Americans, not even Caribbean or African blacks would be asked to join in on the fight.

“This certainly changes things,” Lum replied in a low voice.

Thomasina’s face turned to stone. She felt like Medusa had stricken her as she struggled to move her hand. The lives of millions of black men and women would be in her grasp with just her signature.

“People will malign us, Thomasina,” Lum reminded.

“I know. We mustn’t let that be our guide, however. We must consider the lives and psyches and limbs of over eighty million blacks that have signed up to serve. Ever since Russia and Iran teamed up to jam our traffic networks and caused all of those collisions of the driverless cars, we’ve had the obligation to see to it that we defend our country. In years past, we have noticed that we have not won wars but lost them. Unselfishness, selflessness, and altruism remain the root causes of such defeats. Now, we have a robust fighting force that is willing to live in order to secure the dollars that should have been theirs in the first place.”

Lum crossed his leg on to his right like a businessman of ancient times who turned a newspaper page. “I see us doing this,” he replied.

The four star general looked over the digital document once again. She held the stylus like it was a grenade. Just a scribble of her John Hancock and the whole set of ideas would be translated into action. Blacks from all branches would take orders only from black leaders, officers and enlisted. This weighty moment made her all the more icy. She paused and did not remove herself from her seat for a long time. Lum stood up again.

“Maybe I better go….”

“No, you stay right where you are.”

“I have until twenty-three thirty to sign this document. I can hold out until then. Can you?”

“I suppose,” Lum slumped into his chair. He poured a double. “You sure you don’t want any?”

Thomasina shot a glance at him as if to say, “are you serious?”

“No.”

Lum shrugged and gulped this time.

“An all-black force. Just imagine what that’s going to be like. Imagine nothing but soot black to cocoa butter-skinned troops marching into the capital of the land of the Czars.”

The time read ten-fifty nine or twenty-two fifty nine hours. As the seconds ticked, there seemed to be a tacit understanding of how much power and might that the branches would have, with the full knowledge that blacks will be powering aircraft, tanks, and ships, in the effort to preserve freedom for every other race.

“It was already a problem verifying the origins of the blacks who came into the ranks. I’m sure they’re are some dark-skinned whites and West Indian fighters amongst us. History always finds a way to encapsulate the many too many untold stories related to this whole picture we call a nation,” Thamosina sighed.

“We’re going to have to take the amount of troops and make them into warfighters no matter what. Their training has brought them to this point. With the exit of the other races, we’ll just see who wants to actually fight for their liberty…and wealth.”

“But won’t those other people you mentioned, whites and Caribbean fighters, skew the data?” Lum asked sincerely. The clock ticked to eleven o’seven.

“It’s negligible. If they want to risk all of the blood in their bodies and the intellect in their brains, I’m here to return their salute. I don’t care if they do have a cheating mentality. Just imagine all of the Medal of Honor recipients who refused to obey orders and committed valiant and overwhelmingly venerable acts. Whatever that is, I want it for my troops. I want that to be a wonderful sight for our weary eyes.”

Speaking of eyes, Lum’s began to lower but he still had his faculties.

“Are you about to go to sleep, Vance?”

“No, I’m.…”

“I caught you is what I did. Did you hear me? Were you listening?”

“Oh, of course. Those who go above and beyond the call of duty have gone against their superiors because of good initiative and extraordinary judgement.”

Thomasina grinned slightly and then looked down at the tablet. The grin scurried away from her face. The clock above her fireplace displayed eleven fifteen.

“Jesus. There’s so much riding on all of this. I’m thinking back to our days at school. They taught us so much: logistics, history, logistics….” They both shared a laugh. It wasn’t as nervous as Thomasina thought it would be.

She looked at Lum. “I think that this will be an exemplary force. Too black, too strong.”

“The president is white. Will it really be a black man’s war?” Lum queried again.

“It’s going to always be America’s war. These are the men and women who just happened to have a melanin count that is higher than their counterparts. Maybe this will end racism…of course not.”

“Yeah, I thought you would say that.”

“It will, however, demonstrate to this country and the world that the black race is capable of engaging in thought and action to safeguard everyone that is yearning to sup from the fount of wealth and prosperity.”

“Does that mean white, brown, yellow, and red people, too?”

“Absolutely. They’re going to benefit from the trade of the multitude of dollars that will be generated once the troops return home. There won’t be neighborhoods but communities. Banks, law firms, grocery stores, schools, and other points that require private money will be established to people of every color who have the color green in mind.”

Lum jumped to his feet and seized the tablet without warning.

“What are you doing?” Thomasina asked. The time was eleven twenty-five.

“You better look at this. You better look at this with extreme scrutiny. I want you to look at this with the utmost inspection, ma’am.”

When he called her that name, Thomasina knew the severity of his words. There appeared to be a seismic shift in her posture. She had always sat up straight but now she leaned in to the idea of making the forces all-black. They had trained for months before this could happen. The changeover seemed to be ready for completion as the commanding officer and her executive officer fielded the most important document in all of the American military’s storied time on the continent.

“I think you should be able to see that this very document is going to go down as the moment where we finally said, ‘let’s do the damn thing,’” Lum intoned.

Thomasina clutched the tablet from Lum’s grasp. She peered down at it at eleven twenty-eight. With the knowledge that if she didn’t sign, the deal would be off and millions of black Americans would be without reparations. She grabbed the stylus and wrote down her name in cursive. The green send button highlighted and the words whisked away like dust from a floorboard.

“That was all it took,” Lum said and walked over to the liquor cabinet. “What will you have?”

“I’ll take a Scotch,” she mentioned.

“Now, we’ll have much more to discuss on our leaderboards. We’ll be able to talk about how most of the black populace will be extracted from the country. Even those of mixed races. If they have just one drop of black American blood, they’ll be prepared for a sizable check. They’re still ironing out all the details. Regardless, we have just engaged in an unprecedented way of warfare. A melting pot that has the pot as the fighters. Just think of it!” Lum exclaimed.

Thomasina clinked with Lum.

“Yes, this will certainly be one of the most compelling and excellent ways for the entire world and even Mars to understand that the black man and woman can handle business and get down for the get down,” Thomasina addressed.

“I think that it will show us just what intelligence has been buried, shoved over, overlooked, and denied by the white gaze,” Lum pointed out.

“In all the years that whites have been controlling the narrative, it is time for these individuals with darker hues to save themselves. I mean that they should safeguard their own just like if it was a brown, red, yellow, or white fellow combatant,” Thomasina sipped.

“If we have anything to do with trillions of dollars, tax free, flowing into black hands, that will only sweeten the pot,” Lum observed.

“At first, I always thought that an integrated force would be the best. I still do, except for these upcoming missions. It’s beautiful that other ethnicities want to fight alongside the blacks. I do, however, hold that if ADOS and FBA want their reparations, they should pick up a rifle and train their sights on the enemy.”

“Don’t forget their families. They’ll be wishing, hoping, and wanting to get those dollars, too. Trillions paid out to each and every one of the blacks will be a boon to the economy.”

“Damn the ‘economy,’” Thomasina said. “That money is for the individual lives of those who possess it. If the economy does fine, it will be because of the liberation of markets and the ability for the men and women in uniform to express themselves financially.”

Lum remained silent. He sipped some of his gin. He didn’t move much and inhaled sharply. Then, “I’ve come to the conclusion that with the might of black forces, we will see a change in the way that civilian life will be.”

“Haven’t we been saying that all night?” Thomasina asked.

“Yes, I know, but we’re going to enter a new phase of committing to ourselves the reality of people out of uniform of all stripes and ethnic backgrounds to fully appreciate not the sacrifices, but the egoism involved in creating a better nation. One that will be shiny and bright, wrought with a sense of purpose and understanding.”

Thomasina laughed. “Are you preparing your presidential speech this early, Vance?”

He grinned and then sipped. “That did seem rather bombastic.”

“No doubt.”