Rowe's Gambit (PJW)

"Rowe's Gambit" is a transcript of testimony from former American Defense Force and Federal Bureau of Racial Affairs agent Herman Cash to the Gore Commission on Domestic Totalitarianism, 1992.

Rowe's Gambit
The siege of the NRP compound had lasted over a month by now, and I could tell everyone was getting antsy. No one more than commander Rowe, though. Maybe the thought of Negroes getting the upper hand on him got him angry, I don't know. At that point, I had seen enough to not really care about skin color too much no more: both a black man and a white man have the ability to shoot your head off your shoulders.

Rowe was probably facing pressure from Washington, too. Most of the country was already up-in-arms about the whole invading Laos thing...lucky for Governor Bell, California's schools were on summer break, or else whole campuses would've been shut down. Less lucky is that meant a lot of students had nothing better to do than protest.

Protesters definitely made Rowe sweat too. Half the time my duty was keeping the protesters away from our encampment. Beatniks threw rocks and tried to club us back, but we kept them away. That whole shooting into protester business wasn't a thing just yet. I tell ya, Racial Affairs used to have honor, before that whole Domestic Security nonsense.

But anyway, with the black man, Washington, beatniks, and the summer heat beating down on Rowe, I can see why he yelled enough is enough. One night, he calls me and Francis – I mentioned Francis already, didn't I – over to his tent. It's time to end this, Rowe said he was sending the two of us to try to sneak into the encampment. "What if we get caught?" Francis asked.

"If you need to defend yourselves, shoot," Rowe said. Emphasis on the last word. That night, he sent us out. Weird to think I was the veteran now and Francis was the rookie. We make our way to a little cresting hill outside the compound, and we're sneaking around on top of the hill when we hear movement. I tell Francis to stay low, but we must've been making too much noise because all of a sudden there's a flashlight shining in our faces.

"Put down your weapons. Now," the negro ordered. His patrol had four other members in it. Now, I might not have finished high school but I know that five is more than two, so I was ready to drop my gun. I guess Francis wasn't, because he muttered a word I ain't apt to repeat in front of you Congressmen, and then the negro dropped the flashlight, the light now pointing from the ground upwards, showing a huge red hole in his torso.

"Francis!" I yell, and then I tackle him off of the crest and into the brush below as gunfire immediately comes after us. Francis screams out, and as we roll to a stop I see he got hit in the shoulder. Fortunately, the negro patrol stopped following us. I heard a much larger sound of gunfire and a few booms, and realized that Rowe had ordered the compound to be stormed. "He set us up!" I tell Francis. "He knew either us or them would fire on each other, and now he's gonna store the compound!"

"I don't give a damn about the compound, get me to a medic!" Francis yells back.

"Your own fault you got shot," I mutter. I pick him up and put him on my shoulder.

As we make our way back to the rest of the men, I see a flash from the corner of my eye, and then all of a sudden I'm lifted to my feet.