Willow Trees in Warfare: The Invasion of America

By Clayton M Jennings

I will die tomorrow. I am barely over twenty years of age, and yet when the sun rolls over the horizon tomorrow, I will take my final steps towards eternity's abyss. I am not an old man dying in my bed, nor am I a screaming soldier about to be killed as I run into battle. Instead, I am me, a simple kid from the Midwest who has lived through things that many will never experience in a lifetime of existence. I'm writing this right now as a weary traveler ready for the sleep of paradise. I have made my peace, and I have readied myself for that long trip home. If you have read this, I plead with you to pay no attention to me, instead look at yourself. Hug your kids, hold your loved ones, take a look around and soak it in, because the unexpected is just around the corner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257163281

Book preview

again.

CHAPTER 1

-ARRIVAL OF THE UNINVITED-

I’m terrified of the dark. There is something evil about nightfall that gives me an unease that I often cannot shake. With dread in my soul I watch the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. I’ve learned that nothing can stop the darkness from sweeping over the plains, and even more that nothing can prevent the evil from overtaking the countryside. Sometimes when it is sunny outside, I’ll close my eyes as tight as I can and pretend that it is nighttime, but I can never feel the evil like I can at true night. I must admit that there is a joy that comes with closing your eyes during the day and darn near convincing yourself that it’s midnight, only to slowly crack your eyelids enabling the peace of sunlight to rescue your fear and put to rest your anxiety. When I was a boy I would fight with my parents about having a bedtime. Back then I wanted nothing more than to stay up all night and do as I pleased. I always told myself that when I got older, I would never go to sleep, and the night would be my escape from reality and my roadway into adventure. When you’re a child there is something about the nightlife that intrigues you, it dares you and begs for you to test it out. I often times now wonder if there is a connection between the elderly going to bed so early and rising so prematurely, and the young going to bed late and getting up belatedly. I wonder if those of old age have witnessed the terrors of night, so in fear of its evil they go to bed before darkness covers their homes and they rise early as to not miss an ounce of daylight’s security. Maybe the reason the young are intrigued by the night is because they have not yet been exposed to its horrors, therefore they venture into the dark with gleam in their eyes, only to awake later in life with vast regrets from the past. I’m terrified of the dark, because I’m haunted by its memories. They say that the evil deeds of night are created by men; I say that the deeds of night create evil men.

For the past three years I’ve witnessed the unthinkable happen. We’ve had our shores stormed, our homeland hammered, our towns torn, our cities sacked, and our men maimed and murdered. We were asleep in our beds, unable to hear the wolves howl as they crept towards our homes.

Here I sit, writing my story. Someone one day will find these writings and will maybe for a minute understand a hint of my pain and helplessness. I hope they will feel my struggle, sense my sorrow, and through it all, be able to appreciate their lives and their freedom that much more. I am scared. I will not live much longer, but I will die doing what I know I must do, what any good man would do. Please promise me this, before you read on, take a look around you, soak it in, understand that the things you take for granted can be gone in an instant. I never understood that. I do now. Hug your children, kiss your loved ones, tell your family how much you love them, close your eyes, and find glory in being free. Soon I will surely die, but it was yesterday’s dusk that will enable me to face tomorrow’s dawn.

Three years ago it all fell apart. The greatest country in the world collapsed from the inside out. Too many years of overspending, overconsumption, and over borrowing led to the demise of what was once called, The World’s Greatest Superpower. When I look back on that time it was as if it all happened so fast. One minute I was lost in the joy of summer break from school, and the very next minute I was witnessing mass calamity, crime, and killing as the country I had always loved and adored fell into utter chaos. We did it to ourselves. I never understood how as a nation we could consume so much and borrow so nonchalantly without it ever affecting us; eventually it did. There were signs leading up to the fall that many took note of. Gun sales shot through the roof as thousands flocked to their local ammo stores to load up in fear the economy would soon crumble. Some viewed these men and women as scared, it was to many as if these individuals were the same type of people who flooded their local grocery stores and hardware stores in the months leading up to the dreaded Y2K that was thought to strike on January 1, 2000, but never did. Those people were wrong, these people were right. Nobody was laughing anymore, and the same people who were campaigning for gun control were now fighting tooth and nail for any type of weaponry they could get their hands on. It had become survival of the fittest, and in the midst of it all, a war began to be waged in America’s backyard.

It was a smoldering day in most parts of the United States as the dog days of summer began. The nation’s economic status was on the rocks, to say the least. Unemployment was beginning to skyrocket, banks stopped loaning money, gigantic corporations filed bankruptcy, the stock market was teetering on the brink of doom, and the government was doing everything it could to right the wrong. There was a widely reported and talked about conference that was set to take place in Washington D.C. on a particular June day. Leaders from every major power throughout the world were scheduled to come together and brainstorm over possible solutions to this American’ made crisis that had begun to go global. The troubles of the U.S. economy were beginning to spill into nations around the world. Being so powerful, so enormous, and so massive in scale, the shaking of our financial system did not end within our borders. It sent shock waves through the rest of the world. People from all over the globe were putting their full trust and hope in the potential of this Washington D.C. meeting rightly called, The Conference of Great Hope. Not a soul ever expected the horrific happenings that were said to have taken place as the conference began. The events of that day are scattered and not all together clear.

Haha! You don’t have the guts man. You’re not tricking anyone by parking there, Trent said to me out of the window of his truck. Trent stood about five feet six inches short. He had always been thin when we were younger, but after puberty, his metabolism hit the brakes, blessing him with a fat stomach and chubby build. People constantly joked with him about his weight, something that Trent never really cared too much about. We were mudding in what was called the badlands close to where I lived in the Midwest. I didn’t even look over to where he was sitting. I gripped the wheel of my lifted ride and stared straight ahead at one of the steepest hills in the area.

I’m telling you Ske, you’re not that brave, ha, remember, you’re not me! Trent laughed just before drinking some of his sugared-down energy beverage.

I kept my left hand on the wheel and my eyes straight ahead while I dropped my fully-packaged off-road SUV into four-wheel drive. Hearing my truck click into 4x4, Trent quickly turned down his radio.

Dude, don’t be dumb bro. I was just messing with you, you know-

I slammed the gas pedal into the floor, sending all four tires spinning, slinging dirt, mud, gravel, and grime into the air as I began the steep climb up the hill. As soon as all four wheels were on the incline I could no longer see the road ahead of me. I was looking up into a clear blue sky. I had no way of knowing where I was going. All I could do was keep the gas pedal full throttle and hold the wheel steady and straight. Looking in my rearview mirror I could see Trent standing by his truck jumping up and down with his drink in his hand. Before I had a chance to look back in front of me, I had reached the top of the hill. With land in view from out of my windshield, I was relieved to see the slow decline in front of me. After going down the other side and taking a path back around the hill, I drove at Trent at a barreling pace before mashing the breaks and sliding my truck towards him, slinging a cloud of dirt and dust all over him. When the dust cloud settled Trent looked over at me as I now sat on the hood of my ride.

COUGH! COUGH! You owe me three bucks Ske, Trent said while hunched over coughing out the dirt.

And why’s that big guy? I asked with a smile on my face.

"Cus’ that’s what my once mud-free energy drink cost. What’s wrong with you anyways man? You know you could have flipped your truck trying to climb that thing. I’m not going to give some fake emotional speech at your funeral," Trent said while trying to wipe the mud off the top of his drink.

Sometimes you gota live on the edge buddy . . . can’t always sit in the background. Plus, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind all the snacks they’d probably have at the reception anyways, I said while pulling out my phone as it vibrated.

Yea, well the economy is living on enough of an edge for me man. I don’t need any more anxiety, he said while walking over to me and jumping up on my hood.

The economy? I said with a laugh, What does a high school kid like you and I have to worry about the economy for? Not like we’re gona be out of a job if the whole thing crumbles. Besides, that conference they keep talking about is supposed to fix this whole mess anyways, I said while sending a message back to my brother after he had asked me where I was at.

First off man, we won’t be in high school anymore after next year, and if we don’t have jobs, whose gona pay the bills? Whose gona provide a place to live? Whose gona help us with college expenses? Whose-

Hey, I interrupted, Chill out…we live in America… do you really think things are going to get that bad? You’re crazy,

Every empire or great power eventually falls. Rome, England, and whatever country that ‘Alexander the Great’ dude led. Look at all of them . . . they all collapsed, he said as he stretched out on my hood.

But what is the one thing we have that they didn’t? I asked.

Uhhh…beats me, he replied.

My phone vibrated again in my pocket, this time the vibrating pattern told me it was a call instead of a message. After pulling it out, I saw my brother’s name on the screen.

Huh, that’s funny, I said out loud.

What’s that? Trent asked.

Dominique’s calling me, I replied, What’s up? I asked as I picked up my phone.

Where are you? Dom asked with an over-urgent voice.

Already told you, I’m with Trent mudding, why? What’s up? I responded.

You need to get home now, he said with a conviction I had rarely heard in his voice.

Is everything alright? I asked. Trent sat up and tried to listen in.

There’s a bunch of reports saying the country is under attack. Just hurry up and get home, he said.

Did he just say what I thought he said? Trent asked.

What are you talking about? Like 9/11 stuff again or something? I asked.

Much worse, we are being invaded.

I slowly lowered the phone from my ear.

Hello? You there? I could hear his voice grow distant as I moved the phone away from my ear.

Did he just say we are being- Trent began.

Get in your truck, let’s go, I said before sliding off my hood.

WE GOING TO YOUR HOUSE?! Trent yelled to me from out of his truck window.

YEA! I yelled back, FOLLOW ME!

Trent and I had been best friends since way before we could remember. People used to get us mixed up when we were little because we looked so much alike. With blue eyes and blonde hair I guess you could say we were your All-American poster boys. There was rarely a time when you could find one of us without the other. We did everything together growing up. We went to the same school, had the same hobbies, and attended the same church. People saw us as wild boys, but for the most part they knew we had good intentions. When we were younger we were constantly getting into trouble, and those memories happen to be some of my fondest. Trent and I were strong believers in God. Growing up in homes where we were taken to church every Sunday helped develop a strong faith we both held. There was never a time back then that I can remember us having even the smallest amount of doubt that Jesus was real, and that one day because of our belief in Him, we’d get to Heaven. Those were our younger years. There came a time when Trent completely turned his back on the things which he had once believed in. I guess you never know how firm your beliefs are until they’re tested. The summer of our sophomore year in high school, Trent’s beliefs were more than tested, they were downright shaken.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was my birthday and Trent’s parents wanted to take me out for dinner to celebrate. Trent had purchased a sports-car the week before and was dead set on driving it that night. His parents decided they’d follow us to the restaurant in their SUV, not wanting to squeeze in the back of Trent’s smaller car. It was all laughs and good times when we met up at Trent’s house. His parents were always overly nice to me, and honestly, a part of me thought of them as my second parents. Trent and his dad were joking around while his mom finished getting ready. The night was looking like it would be a good one. Oh how wrong I was. The restaurant was about thirty minutes away, an Italian joint where his family loved to eat. In order to get to the restaurant from Trent’s house you had to take a couple country roads before merging onto a highway that led to exit 23. Trent and I didn’t talk much during the drive, he had the radio turned up and the windows rolled down. After about the first five minutes of the trip, his parents were no longer visible in the rearview mirror. Trent liked to speed. His parents didn’t. We pulled up to the restaurant and Trent asked if I thought we should go ahead and go in or wait. I told him we should wait since we didn’t know if they had reservations or not. We sat in his car and listened to the radio for about twenty minutes before he turned down the music to call his dad. He called him three times and then tried his mom twice. Still no one answered.

Should we go back? he asked after calling them.

Yea, I think we should. There wasn’t any traffic on the way here. They might have blown a tire, I suggested.

Yea, you’re right, Trent replied.

We pulled out of the restaurant parking lot and started back in the direction we had come. After about five minutes on the highway we both noticed police and emergency vehicles with lights flashing, on the other side of the concrete barrier. Trent slowed down and pulled over next to the median. He had seen what I had seen. A wrecked SUV turned upside down with firefighters standing next to it.

Trent- I started, but there was no stopping him.

He threw his door open and started running. After jumping over the median, he kept sprinting as fast as he could towards the SUV. I jumped out of the car and followed suit. After leaping over the median, I stopped. There he was being held back by three policemen as he screamed and fought trying to get to his parents. Everything in me went numb. I stood there unable to move. I just kept thinking, This isn’t real, this can’t be real. After fighting, screaming, and sobbing, Trent finally gave in. His body fell limp in the officer’s arms as they kept him from falling to the ground. I remember him looking up at me as the officer’s tried to help him get his balance. Tears were rolling down his face and he was giving me a look as if to say, Please make this go away. I couldn’t.

There are things in life that tear a friendship apart, and there are things that weld them together, the death of Trent’s parents cemented our bond forever. The police report later showed that a drunk driver swerved into the lane of Trent’s parents, causing them to swerve also. When they tried to correct their vehicle, they began to roll. His dad’s neck was broken. He died instantly. His mom sustained severe trauma to her chest which took her life within only a handful of minutes. Trent didn’t talk for over five months after they died. It was as if their death had also taken the life right out of him.

There hasn’t been a single Sunday service since the death of Trent’s parents that he has attended. I didn’t say anything the first couple of months after their passing, but after a while, I tried to get him to come back to church. I told him it was the only way to help ease the pain. Although throughout those years he never came right out and said it, there was no way he would ever pass through the doors of a church again.

The man who was responsible for their death was put on trial. He killed himself before the jury ever reached a verdict. Trent has never really said much about that man. I stayed by his side throughout that whole sorrow-filled week when his parents passed. He wouldn’t utter a word; instead random tears rolling down his face would speak for him. Then one day about a week after the funeral he just simply stopped crying. The tears had run dry; there was nothing left for him to weep.

CHAPTER 2

-SHOT INTO MANHOOD-

Throughout the past three years I’ve witnessed horrific things. There isn’t a day that goes by when the corpses that I’ve laid eyes on don’t haunt my thoughts and steal any joy that might come my way. You think you know man? You don’t. There is a wickedness that builds over the mountains before moving down upon the valleys, engulfing any who stand exposed. It’s volcanic in its origins, hiding beneath the beauty of the landscapes, simply waiting, waiting to unleash its malevolence upon the world. Evil lives, it dwells, and it surrounds. I’ve lived through things that most wouldn’t believe are capable of occurring. They say that man is good, man has good intentions, and in the times we live in, man is civilized. There is nothing further from the truth. Man is foul. Man has good intentions, only if the result of those intentions, benefit him. Man is only mostly civilized if the civilization around him stays civilized. There is an animalistic nature that mankind possesses. I’ve witnessed the animals feed, I’ve seen them roam.

Looking back on it now it’s surprising how normal things were in my town the day of the invasion. As I drove through my hometown of about 40,000 people, nothing really seemed out of the norm. People were stopping at stop lights, gas stations were pumping gas, some were in the drive-through lines of fast food restaurants, and nobody would ever suspect by the looks of things that the nation was being attacked on a full-scale level. While driving I turned on the radio and set it to an AM station. The same message was playing over and over.

This is an emergency briefing. This is not a test. The nation is under attack. I repeat, the nation is under attack. Seek shelter immediately.

Apparently not many people were paying attention to that advice. That drive through the downtown portion of my city was the last time I can remember things looking normal. People were mostly under the impression that another 9/11 had taken place. Therefore, it was business as usual for most in a small Midwestern town, away from the happenings of large coastal cities. It wasn’t until a few hours later that people began to comprehend the gravity of that day’s occurrences.

My family lived in a fairly large house on the outskirts of town. My dad owned a small business and my mom worked for a local law firm. We’ve lived in the same house my whole life, strange how I act as if we still live there. I guess in my mind, it’s still home to me. I have an older brother and an older sister. My brother was attending the state’s university when the war began. He was home on summer break when the invasion took place. He never went back. My older sister lives in Texas with her husband and their three kids. I haven’t spoken to her since the day of the invasion. Here I am three years later, and I still don’t know if they’re even alive.

I pulled into my driveway with Trent following close behind. My dad was standing outside talking on his phone with a concerned look on his face. Dad was a big guy. He weighed well over two-hundred and thirty pounds, and stood at about six foot five. Dom and I took after our Dad in height.

Dad, I said as I jogged over to where he was standing.

Just stay safe, don’t go traveling anywhere. Take the boys and get home, he said as he held up his finger, telling me to hold on. I could tell he was talking to my sister. I asked if I could talk to her before he hung up.

Everything is going to be okay. We are all too far away from the fighting to be in any danger. Get home and stay inside, I’ll call you later…Ske wants to talk to you, I love you, with that he handed the phone to me and walked inside with Trent.

Hey Anne, you okay? I asked.

Yea, we’re okay. I’m driving home with the boys right now. I keep trying to get a hold of Ben, but he won’t answer, she said. Her voice sounded shaky and anxious.

I’m sure he’s okay. Just get yourself home and wait there, I said.

Ske,

Yes Anne, I replied.

Don’t let anything happen to our family, she started to cry.

You know I won’t. Besides, this whole thing is going to blow over real quick, I wasn’t so sure of what I’d just said.

I hope you’re right. I love you Ske,

I love you too.

We tried later that night to call her, but the phone lines were down. That night we stayed at home watching the news. There was sheer panic going on throughout certain parts of the country. People were looting, fighting, and rioting. The fabric of America was unraveling before our own eyes. At first nothing could be confirmed, or at least that’s what they were saying on TV. Then at about 6pm that night, the first confirmed reports that we were truly being invaded came in. The Russians were launching a full scale attack on our western border while the Chinese were executing a bombing campaign on the eastern front. World War III had officially begun, only this time, distant European battlefields were replaced by backyards and town squares in the nation once thought to be the land of the free. The news reporters were urging everyone to arm themselves and stay at home, but it was evident by the videos that were being shown on TV that many weren’t listening. The first video that was shown was of a group of men somewhere in California, armed heavily, while riding in pickup trucks with American flags waiving. They were screaming wildly as they sped into battle. The video ended with them jumping out of the trucks as a deadly shootout began with what looked like a group of Russian soldiers. Although the initial reports were just of an air attack on the east coast, we later found out that there was an eastern Chinese land invasion going on at the same time. They had come across the Atlantic from bases they had created in Africa years earlier.

I remember thinking, They just messed with the wrong country. In every American’s heart there is a pride of the motherland. In each of us there is an unspoken belief that America truly is the greatest nation in the world. We feel invincible, as if there were no earthly force that could shake our foundations. We feel that God is with us. Growing up in America is in many ways like becoming part of a sports team, it’s always us vs. them and no matter what we will be victorious. You’re taught at a very young age to love your country, respect it, and pledge your allegiance to it. America is very different from most other nations because it is more of an idea than an actual country. It’s the idea of freedom, personal pursuit of wellbeing and happiness, limited government, and a homeland of the brave. There is this inner thought within every American that we are the good guys. We are the superpower that isn’t afraid to eradicate evil regimes and dictators. Most American’s think, We’ve never lost a war, and, We’re the reason for the allied victory in WWI, and, We’re the reason Hitler and the Japanese didn’t take over the world during WWII, and that, No one is better, and no one will ever be better.

It has been said that the United States would never fall due to an outside force, but instead, it would have to collapse from the inside out. It would take an economic meltdown like that of the Soviet Union that ended the Cold War. The nation is simply too large and too vast for any foreign force to obtain success in an attempt to overthrow the government and establish permanent power. The United States is full of citizens who love their nation and are willing to fight for its survival. American’s are proud of their forefathers and the things they stood for, and are willing to take up arms to make sure those convictions and values are upheld. Not only are these citizens in full support of their nation and their fellow countrymen, but they are also highly armed. The United States is the world leader in the amount of weaponry it possesses. This is not only the military, but the citizen population as well. The U.S. has been referred to as a Gun Club, and in many ways that is a very accurate description. Most American’s own guns, and many of those gun owners feel it is not only a means of self defense, but of protecting and upholding the Constitution as well. The thought of a foreign force invading the homeland was never taken seriously. For not only would that force have to battle the nation’s dedicated military, but they would also have to wage war with the nation’s heavily armed civilian population as well.

For many in my home state, the events of that initial day seemed far away from the peace of endless cornfields and the serenity of a small town, but at about 8:20 that night, the invasion became real. It was here, and it was now. At around 7:40 that evening, Dad, Trent, Dom, and I were just finishing moving our beds down into the basement. Dad thought we needed to stay close together. He thought the basement would be the safest place to sleep. I remember telling him it was a war, not a tornado. Mom was sitting in the living room still glued to the television, listening intently while hanging on the anchorman’s every word. Mom was a big fan of the evening news, something that she had to watch every night. Everyone told her she should have been an anchor-lady herself, due to her good looks and thin build. She had long blonde hair and pretty green eyes, more than likely, what Dad first noticed about her many years ago.

SOMETHING’S WRONG! Mom yelled from upstairs.

WHAT IS IT?! Dad quickly responded, his deep voice booming up the staircase.

THE NEWS JUST SHUT OFF! IT’S A BLANK SCREEN! EVERY CHANNEL HAS GONE BLANK! She yelled back.

We followed Dad up the stairs and out of the basement.

They’re taking out our eyes and ears, I said as we all stood in the living room watching the blank TV screen as my Mom flipped from one fuzzy channel to another. The white noise of the static gave an eerie feel to the room.

What’s that mean? Trent asked.

I read about a few months ago. It’s what we did in 2003 when we invaded Iraq. It’s the bombing of any building or facility that is crucial for a population to relay information and electricity. It’s called taking out the eyes and ears of the enemy, I said.

"So I’m guessing they