Circle the Wagons!

May 10th, 2010. Armed resistance in the United States ended 145 years ago today. On this day, way back in 1865, newly appointed president, Andrew Johnson, declared that all major fighting east of the Mississippi River had ended, and with the capture of the southern secessionist, Jefferson Davis, the American Civil War was officially over. The last time I checked, the Arizona desert was west of the Mississippi. 
    Crossing the cautionary, cordoned ropes of the Arizona border, a division of Darger tanks launched a 3-day offensive upon the arid deterrence of the heartless, reptilian heartland. The slithering, protectionist, border defenses were no match for the migratory Darger foot soldiers swarming across the battlefield. 
    No.7 started the charge with a cannon shot over the central air defenses of Fort Apache, while No.16 continued his bludgeoning run of terror with multiple raids. And No.99 led his first successful campaign since his return to action two days ago. The Calvary charge of No.58 and his cohorts put down the few outbreaks of general uprising by the rattled, rebel forces. W is for Ira B. Hayes.

"Papers, please!"

May 5th, 2010. "You're just like that stupid neighbor lady who used to live next door to me when I was still in school." I said.
   Darger looked at me puzzled, and scribbled some words on his "pad". His "pad" was nothing more than an old magazine with another magazine taped to it, with a blank piece of paper taped on top of that. When the paper was filled with whatever it was that he had written, he would tape a new piece of paper on top of that. I didn't even bother to read what he wrote.
   "It's because you're S-T-U-P-I-D! That's why!"  I concluded.
      "Why don't you write THAT down in your stupid book."  I said it, but immediately wished I hadn't. The poor bastard had his homemade ticket in his front shirt pocket. Without really thinking, I grabbed it and began tearing it to pieces. Darger started to cry.
        "C'mon!" I said. "Get out of the street. You're going to get picked up by some murderers or killer birds or something. Don't be a baby, Darger."
        Meanwhile...Down at the Ravine, the troubles continued for Gen. Glory and his underwhelming fighting forces. The tension is building amongst the enlisted ranks, and morale is steadily sinking below the waves of apathy.  L is for Cinco de MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

Smothered

May 4th, 2010. I remember the big smiles on the faces of the girls who were handing out the blankets. Karen and I were both starving. I was mad at myself for not eating the hard candy that I had taken from my daughter earlier. Little Karen had stuck a piece of the candy on the back of the puppy's neck, and it was driving the poor pooch into a spinning, maniacal hissy-fit. Finally, when the dog jumped onto the bed and dribbled the sticky candy all over it , I had had enough. "Dammit-all! Get the dirty dog off the filthy bed!" I screamed. Before I could yell another word, the frightened dog lept off the bed and onto my back, sending me into even more of a screaming rage. Somehow, I was able to grab the candy from the pup's clenched teeth and simultaneously send him peeing across the bedroom floor. I wanted to eat the candy, but I threw it at the puppy, and stormed off to the garage for a pill instead. I knew traffic was going to be hellish because we had taken such a late departure; Karen and I rode to the Ravine in silence. The smiles were comforting, alright. And the blankets were free. I felt warmth inside and outside of my clothes.
    But, by the time we had managed to muster-up some dried beef, fresh dish water, set up our bunker, and settle in for the battle, the Darger's baby-faced, boy commander was being eviscerated by the blitzkrieg attack of Milwaukee's best and bravest. The enemy guns absolutely bombarded No.22 with a multifaceted attack, knocking him from the battle, and off his little pony. The Darger hardliners fought hard to battle back from such a resounding pounding, but in the end, all sights should be readjusted on No.22's caliber.
L is for "There's NO such thing as a FREE Blanket.

Trigger Happy

May 1st, 2010. The Darger's call to arms was heard loud and clear on another clean and sober Saturday night in Traffic Town.  Answering a lightning-fast, first-strike charge, the menacing, long range cannons of Number 16 sent a spectacular broadside of muscle-flexing scorn into the clenched fists of the enemy bersagliere.  The Darger guns subsequently erupted in full effect, taking the battlefield by storm.
      The beleaguered air defenses managed to avert any serious advance by the Steel City soldiers under the command of another of the Darger new recruits, No.37. He was backed up sufficiently by his supplementary reservists, Numbers 35 and 38, respectively. W is for Sound Effect.

Shot's Fired!

April 30th, 2010. BANG! BANG! At last! The Darger guns broke a five day detente on Friday night in a timely turnabout from their recent run of nothingarianism. After immediately allowing a lone enemy combatant to breach the hold, No.16 let them have it with both barrels!

It was a huge lift to the Darger morale. Sharpshooter No.58 returned to his fighting form to stave off the buccaneers with solid support from the platoon of piecemeal groundpounders.

When No.7 launched a mediating warhead into the enemy lines, it secured a firm foothold on the return path to glory. The guns weren't firing at full capacity, but the sound and the fury was reassuring.  W is for Winds of Change.

Blown Away

April 28th, 2010. On an unnecessary cold and windy battlefront 2,800 miles across the divided homeland, the Dargers on Wednesday put up a last ditch fight against the unyielding Citizen army whom they had come to conquer. In a desperate move by the crippled invaders, the newest recruit, No.48, was thrust into the hostile arena in hopes of creating enough chaotic discourse to allow for an ordered, diversionary withdrawal from the toxic, turbulent Citi of bankers.
   The promising, young rifler took his position in the center of whirlwind war zone, but his inexperience cost him any chance of glory today. The Darger unit is making way for Traffic Town in a state of utter disarray. Intelligence reports coming out of Central Command are showing small signs of squalor and dissent within the inner circling sect of war hawks. L is for "the Winds of War"

Doubled Over

April 27th, 2010. After surrendering a second straight city in as many outings, the humbled Darger army spent all of Monday climbing out of the ashes in Warville, then grumbling north up the main supply road for 240 miles, chasing counter-revolutionary traffic into $tock Citi(sic)for yet another debacle. Once inside the corrupt megalopolis, however, the forces were met with a 24-hour cease-fire.
    So, today, with a little more than 2 extra days removed from combat, an exasperated General Glory ordered his attack hands to throw two successive, head-on investments at the well fortified, state-of-the-art, Citidel(sic). The first assault was led by No.18, and although his charge was struck hard at the outset, he fought a determined fight, but eventually had his horse shot out from him. His fresh-faced replacement was simply overwhelmed in his first call to duty and was forced to lay down his arms. Meanwhile, the Darger artillery units were again held in check. L is for "in like a lamb"
    In the 2nd wave of attack, the oddball dragoon, No.49, was sent in to breach the nouveau riche walls of the Citidel(sic). However, the defenses were wise to the battlefield tricks of the flat-footed musketeer, and they took complete control from the start. Finally, the Darger cannons were able to get back on track and staged a rally that brought the battle to a stalemate until the all too familiar meltdown of the never-ready reserves. Once again, the arms support failed to turn back the counter-attack, and the night ended in a sound defeat for the Darger forces. The down-trodden troops will have to find some way to find the will and firepower to get out of the Citi(sic)alive. L is for "out like a light"

Obelisked!

April 25, 2010. With mounting pressure from the home front, and empty hand lobbying from the forward command, the discordant Darger unit was unable to capitalize on the illusive capitol defenses. Again, the Darger heavy artillery failed to breach a single line of the special forces interest groups, the choreographed grassroots movements, or the sniveling, lip-service militias.
   Lost in the early symbolism of the Sunday afternoon, a cult of 33,000 sun worshippers outlined the owlish inroads of the district in a profane parade of Warvillian protectionism. Darger forces book-ended the day's fighting by mounting hard-hitting campaigns, but were ultimately brought down by the enemy's lone psychological operation.
   The new balance of power has rapidly masqueraded into an arms race, and the challenge now falls in the hands of a ragtag group of professional conscripts who are underfoot, limping north into unbridled, urban warfare.
L is for E pluribus nothing.

Big Guns Silenced

April 23rd, 2010. The Darger military entered the partisan perimeters of "Pentagram City" on Friday night under the threat of darkening skies. An ominous darkness that seemed to slither right through the very souls of the invading army. With their most decorated artilleryman wounded in the fighting the night before, the Darger bombardment was ineffective in their initial siege against the fortified Warville forces.
    Two 5,000 pound ordinances were dropped on the Darger front liners who were under the misguided command of No.49 at the time. Both bombs were crushing blows to the attacking force and there was not much of a fight in the platoon after that as the Dargers seemed disorganized and trance-like. The darkness still looms. L is for L'Enfant!

Guns Blazing!

April 21st, 2010. The LA Darger war machine unleashed a full-frontal assault against the big red menace tonight in renewed river bend  fighting on the banks of the Ohio River. The collective efforts of Numbers 7,15,16,27 and Number 99 crippled the enemy's defenses with a multitude of aggressive lapidation. The Darger rifle battalion again was called in for flare-ups of continued small arms resistance. 
   All eyes will be watching the skies for tomorrow's operations as a bank of thunderclouds has been sighted moving in from the southwest flatlands. The Dargers, however, appear to have packed their rucksacks with plenty of their own thunder and lightning. W is for "Hitting Machine"

PASSED TIME (No.5)

ROAD (Reorganization Objective Army Division) RAGE!

April 20th, 2010.  Monday's mobilization back eastward across 2,200 miles of the nation's ever expanding midsection allowed the Darger fighting machine an extra day of wanderjahr , and the Darger Brass an extra day to mull over their munitions, and re-examine their reconnaissance. As predicted, the siege of "Porkopolis" began just after a symbolic armistice attempt failed. Early success from a base-clearing, ballistic bludgeon by the marching force's steady veteran, No. 23, was surrendered almost immediately back to the natty foe by the blundering blisterfoot, No. 58.
    An embattled core of offensive unity, led by a brave horseback rally late in the struggle by No. 27, brought a temporary truce to the killing fields, and he is deserving of many medals for his mettle and superstar firepower. It's worth noting that No. 99 was back on his horse for the fracas after his latest triumphant return to duty back in Traffic Town, and contributed to the cause.
    In the end, however, the outcome of the game was determined by a preemptive, pacificatory disarmament by the second line of defense, No. 38. On this course, one might want to question the horse, but when almost all of the horses are gunning off-course, one might need to question the horse's courses. That would be the Brigadier General, of course! L is for subparmachinegun

Auxiliary Power!

April 18, 2010. On a hot and ample afternoon, decked out in the promotional pride of the home standing army, a blowzy crowd gathered for revenge and inhospitality.

The Darger outfit again sent out their young, gun-slinging, liberator from Texas, No. 22, against the army of unfriendly giants.

 This time, the hired left handful came out with his cap and hellcat blazing, and quickly steamed through the front and middle ground forces. Grueling inaction by the equally over-matched regular forces, and an arrogant communications error ended the Darger Jager's day.
  Down but not obligatory out, a late charge by the old war-horse, No.9, repelled the hill dwelling, enemy gunner and feigned him into a pinch. That set the battle stage for a surprise attack by General Glory. The big howitzer, No. 99, was re-commissioned for duty, and he promptly ambushed the enemy's hopes with a vanquishing broadside of aptness.

  The steady art of the rifle and the colossal power of the powder keg provided the Dargers with fame and glory on the battlefield today against a fee-fi-formidable-foe. W is for Hace calor!(whew!)

42 REDUX (Deja vu)

April 16th, 2010. "OBEY!" the Giant killer, Number 42, thundered after he hammered a grand, quarternary battery of resultant casualty over the gaped jaws of the garrisoned Giant army. The tactical blast was the second of the night for the emerging field commander, and the 3rd of the battle for the resurgent Darger unit- the other bombshell coming from the big gun banks of Number 42, who's impressive display of heroics at the outset of this fighting season has gained the attention of war hawks near and far. 
    Once again, the battlefield was camouflaged in the honorary fashion of Number 42, the great, pioneering equalizer of modern warfare. On his third charge of the early 2010 campaign , Number 42, finally gained a respectable war footing at the start of operations, and backed by the support of offensive outpouring, emerged confident and victorious. Once again, an easy Darger victory was almost allowed to slip through their firm, powerful grip as the corp of mid-riflers simply shook to pieces at the first sight of fighting.
Beware! A freakish foe looms on the Saturday afternoon radar screen.
A need to resort to arms will once again put Traffic Town through a pace of slow dissuasion. W is for Equal terms

Bombs Away!

April 13th, 2010. Echo Park Base. Home at last from 
a long road trip of fighting across the Eastern Divide, the Darger army had regrouped and were now basking in the sun, solace, and familiar spices of their concrete confines deep within the sold-out overgrowth of Chavez Ravine. They'd had a day's rest, and were fortifying positions for the celebratory arrival of the inaugural home battle. News of a Serpent attack from the Arizona desert is certain, so I merged into a languid convoy of Darger followers traveling southbound along the river hedged in by a dry bank of traffic making the stiff climb of Mt. Elysian- milling the opening rumors of an attack.

    Atop a mountain of parked cars, I could see the outlines of excitement below so I tagged along with a band of freedom fans who had just broken camp beneath the behemoth, sky-blue, "T" of Traffic Town's historic landmark, and we were half-way down the trail when the first wave of explosions ripped through the air.

    "They're shooting at us!" I yelled. Another barrage of thunder-booming detonations shook the hillside and like a wind-aided flag whipping me in the face, a hissing squadron of sonic bombers suddenly shot through the sky sending the battlefield below into a bombastic fit of rockets, glory, and smoke. A heavy, blue woman lost her footing and rolled headfirst past an old-hatted man traveling all the way from New Mexico. With an old Texas accent he screamed, "My God, they're going to kill us all!" The woman would have been lost for  good had not the brave Texas talker thrown his hat on top of her so as to levy her fall. "Hat's off!", I laughed, and made off onwards and downwards to the volcanic battle that had just erupted!

     By the time I had reached the creature comforts and close proximity of my bunker, the young Darger sharpshooter ,Number 22, had taken control of the Battery defenses and was holding the invading regiment of Rattlesnakes at a left arms length. Eventually, the concentrated infield fighting fell off and his aim quelled the mighty crowd that had gathered with restless affiliations of sameness.
     And then General Glory sent in the Bomb Squad. KA-KOOM!! Number 99 unleashed what was to be a cannonading overture of LA muscle and manpower. BOOM! WHAM! BLAM! Non-numerically , but respectfully in order of heroics, No.23, No.27, and No.16 all followed with manly displays of bang.

     To the thrill of everyone, the gravity of those Bazooka shots echoed long enough to ensure a decisive victory despite another sloppy humanitarian relief effort by the shell-shocked gang of Darger mid-range riflers. At the close of this glorious opening battle 56,000 satisfied, sun-shiny, day-trippers will collide right back into the waiting commute of the 9-5 crowd. The day was perfect. To the Letter "T"!  W is for Open Home.

Dargers' 2010 Battle Begins On Road.

April 5th, 2010. WAR!!! Steel City is a long, day and a half's haul from Traffic Town. Two thousand, four hundred and forty miles of seventy-five degree night and daylight...1,000 miles of sweat per hour. Spring  Camp had proved not to be a spring- but a speed bump. To be honest, the opening day contest for the 2010 Los Angeles Dargers felt more like it was a million miles away. The lasting image of the battle that comes to my mind is that of a rotten Vadalia Onion exploding into an eye-watering explosion of yellow and black venom upon it's test-dummy impact with the filthy, bullet-holed windshield of a 1970's South American Ford Motor Coup car. THUMP! Number 44 led the plunge into the Allegheny River on Monday afternoon, throwing everything but the el fregadero de cocina at the Eye Patches for four futile innings, while  Numbers 23, 27, 33, 99 took the high road to the promises of another fight, and a successful 2010 war campaign. All ends that ends...well?

L is for Viva la Vadilla! RAGE ON! This Road is Our Road!