The Kids Who Won the Cold War

By Gary Krakowski

In 1947, the government covered up an event that happened in Roswell, New Mexico. Besides the UFO cover-up, our government hid from the public something that would have destroyed our American way of life if not for three foulmouthed, street-smart, intelligent kids who, with the help of a junior senator, preserved America's freedom by putting us on the path to win the Cold War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781638814580

Book preview

Chapter 1

On July 7, 1947, a violent, brilliant electrical storm was on the horizon of the sheep pasture on Wilson’s farm in Corona, New Mexico. It was a small farming community with one streetlight, your typical small-town America. William Brazel, the farmhand, affectionately known as Mac, was washing his dishes from his supper. While gazing out of the window of his kitchen quarters, he noticed the night sky light up like it was high noon from the lightning of the approaching storm.

The winds arrived first, and Mac saw the barn door fly open. In his haste, Mac left the water running, flung open the door, and ran toward the barn to secure the doors. With his back to the storm, Mac saw a bright light flash off the secured doors. Turning around, he saw what he thought was a giant bolt of lightning that lasted way longer than it should have.

Unable to take his eyes off the beauty and majesty of nature, he stared at the lightning that, to Mac, seemed like an eternity. All of a sudden, out of the bolt appeared a shiny disk-like object plunging to earth at a miraculous speed. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he saw what he saw. The shiny disk crashed out in the sheep pasture. Scared and amazed but mostly scared, Mac, without hesitation, jumped into his 1932 Ford pickup and raced to the sheriff’s office that was four miles down the road on the outskirts of town.

Mac locked up his brakes, fishtailing past the entrance to the sheriff’s office on the gravel road. Jumping out of his truck, he then ran to the sheriff’s office. Mac threw the door open so hard it hit the stop, bounced back, and hit him in the ass as he entered the office, startling Mary, the dispatch/secretary, and Sheriff Hitchens. Mac, damn near out of breath and white as a ghost, told the sheriff exactly what he saw.

Sheriff Hitchens, born and raised in Corona, is an overweight middle-aged man, who is a little rough around the edges. Sheriff Hitchens replies in his raspy Southern voice, Mac, just what in the Sam Hill are you talking about?

Mac says again, Sheriff, I swear to the God Almighty, I saw a silvery-white flying disk crash out in the sheep pasture at old man Wilson’s farm! A smirk and a sarcastic sound comes from Mary, who is an older woman with gray hair, a small frame, and wire-framed glasses, who also was born and raised in Corona. The sheriff and Mary glance at each other, then glance back at Mac.

The sheriff tells Mac, If you are fuckin’ with me, Brazel, I swear, it’s not me you’ll have to worry about but the United States government. Now you’re positive on what you saw, Mac?

Absolutely, Sheriff, Mac confirms. The sheriff and Mary both look at each other again. The sheriff tells her to get the operator on the line. Mary picks up the phone and dials 0.

Hello. This is the operator. Blanche speaking. Blanche is your typical gum-chewing, pretty operator. She is in her late twenties with cat-eyed glasses.

Mary responds, Hey, Blanche, how are you? This is Mary out at the sheriff’s office in Corona.

Blanche says, Well, hello, Mary, how are you? How are the grandkids?

Mary says, I’m well. The grandkids are too.

The sheriff rudely interrupts. Give me the damn phone. What do you think this is, happy hour? Blanche, this is Sheriff Hitchens. I need you to connect me to Roswell Army Air Base immediately!

Okay, Sheriff. Hold your horses. What’s the emergency? Blanche curiously replies.

Blanche, please, can you hurry up and get me through? Hitchens calmly tells Blanche as to defuse Blanche’s childlike curiosity.

Okay, Sheriff, no problem, Blanche tells the sheriff.

Hello. Roswell Army Air Base. Ethel speaking. How may I direct your call?

Hello, Ethel. Hold please. Go for Roswell, Sheriff.

Thank you, Blanche. This is Sheriff Hitchens out at Corona. To whom am I speaking?

Hello, Sheriff. This is Ethel, the dispatch operator at Roswell Army Air Base.

Ethel, I need to speak to someone who’s in charge. I kinda got a possible situation out here, and I need to know how to handle it. I know it’s late, but it may be important.

Okay, Sheriff. I can put you through to the on-duty officer, and I’m sure he can help you.

Thank you very much, Ethel, says the sheriff politely.

Ethel courteously says, You’re welcome, Sheriff.

Hello. This is Captain Henderson. How may I help you?

Captain, this is Sheriff Hitchens out here at Corona. I was sitting at my desk, enjoying a nice, quiet evening, when an old farmhand named William Brazel came bustin’ through my door, telling me a story about seeing a UFO. This gets the captain’s attention.

A what, Sheriff?

You heard me right, sir, a UFO.

Did you see it, Sheriff?

No, Captain. Mac drove from the farm after the alleged sighting, and protocol states to call the nearest military base if such a thing is reported.

Wait, I thought you said his name was William? the captain questioned.

It is, said the sheriff. His nickname is Mac.

Okay, Sheriff, here is how this is going to go down. The captain sternly told the sheriff, Lately, we have had a number of sightings and people claiming to have seen UFOs, and nothing ever became of them. What you are going to do, Sheriff, is keep all people who have been informed of this at your office. How many people know about this, Sheriff?

Just me, Mac, and Mary, sir.

Who’s Mary?

Mary is my secretary/dispatcher.

Do not talk to anyone else about this. If you have to get something to eat, you get it, Sheriff, but not before you make sure Mr. Brazel and Mary are absolutely sure they understand the urgency of the situation. It is of national security. If you have to put them in a cell for their own protection, do it. I’m sending out someone to investigate. I see on the map you’re approximately seventy-five miles away. Someone will be there in two hours or less. Oh, by the way, what is Mary’s last name?

It’s Williams, says the sheriff.

Okay, Sheriff, so the only people who know are Mary Williams, William ‘Mac’ Brazel, and you. What’s your first name, Sheriff?

Fred.

Okay, Sheriff Fred Hitchens. I’m gonna get a team together. You stay put. Someone will be there in less than two hours. I’m counting on you, Sheriff.

Hitchens replies, You have my word, sir!

Chapter 2

Hey, Cindy, the captain summons his secretary over the intercom system.

Yes, Captain? Private Cindy replies in her sultry, sexy voice.

Can you get me the duty roster please? the captain demands.

Yes, sir! Cindy fumbles through her files and locates the duty roster. She pushes her chair away from her desk, unfolds her shapely legs, stands, walks toward the duty officer’s desk, and hands the captain the roster.

Thank you, Private Jennings.

You’re welcome, sir. Private Jennings walks away, and in typical guy fashion, Captain Henderson can’t help himself but to check out Cindy as she walks away and under his breath goes, Damn, what a woman.

Glancing over the duty roster, the captain sees that the only other officer on duty is First Lieutenant Smith. The captain says, Private Jennings.

Jennings replies, Yes, Captain?

Can you page Lieutenant Smith to my desk please? ASAP.

Yes, sir, Captain. Over the PA system of the officers’ barrack, they hear, Lieutenant Smith, Lieutenant Smith, please report to the duty officer’s desk on the double.

The always overeager lieutenant hops too, puts on his working khakis, and double-times to the duty officer. Sir, Lieutenant Smith reporting as ordered, sir!

Okay, Smith, at ease, and follow me, orders the captain. They walk into a private, secure office. The captain tells Smith, I have a job for you, Lieutenant.

Smith replies with gusto, Yes, sir!

Calm down, Smith, says the captain. You’ve got to learn to lighten up.

Smith replies, Sir.

Never mind, states Henderson. He tells Smith, Look, it’s probably nothing, but we have to investigate it anyway. I need you to pick a soldier from the duty roster, take the duty car over to the equipment shed, and find the KIT. You do know what the KIT is, don’t you, Lieutenant?

Sir, yes, sir!

Okay. Make sure all the equipment in the KIT is up to snuff. You know how to do that, Lieutenant?

Yes, sir!

Then I need you to hastily but safely drive to Corona and see a Sheriff Hitchens.

Smith asks, What is this pertaining to, sir?

Well, Smith, it seems like they had a UFO sighting up there, and I need you to quietly investigate the situation. When you arrive at the sheriff’s office, call me. Then I want you to take a Mr.—let me see here—William Brazel, nicknamed Mac, to a private office and get his story. He was the one who reported the sighting. Besides Sheriff Hitchens and William Brazel, the secretary, Mary Williams, is the only person reported as knowing about the incident. They are under strict orders to remain at the sheriff’s office and not to tell anyone of the situation, but you know civilians. Here’s the duty roster. Now go grab a soldier and carry out your orders, Lieutenant.

Yes, sir!

Looking over the duty roster as he walks to the enlisted men’s barracks, the lieutenant makes his choice. He opens the screen door to the barracks and yells out, Private First Class O’Keefe, front and center. PFC O’Keefe is a squared away soldier, a little on the timid, shy side, just trying to get along in the military. Lieutenant Smith orders O’Keefe to get ready for a road trip. Be outside of the barracks in five minutes. Be prepared for an overnight mission.

O’Keefe replies with vigor, Yes, sir!

As O’Keefe is getting ready, the lieutenant goes and signs out the duty car, grabs his go bag and firearm, and is in front of the barracks in four minutes and thirty-seven seconds O’Keefe is there waiting for him. Smith compliments PFC O’Keefe on his promptness.

Smith drives to the equipment shed and tells O’Keefe, Wait in the car. He unlocks the door and signs out the KIT. The KIT contains two radiological white suits, two sets of rubber gloves, two sets of goggles, a roentgen meter, a watertight stainless steel cylinder with internal tracking device, a camera, two rolls of film, a battle lantern, rations for two men for two days, a block of C-4 explosive with a timed detonator stored separate, a multimeter, and twenty-four bullets for a Colt M1917 revolver.

Smith checks and double-checks the batteries on the meters and the tracking devices. All are working. The lieutenant closes the KIT, unlocks the trunk, stores the KIT, closes the trunk, jumps in the driver’s side, then asks O’Keefe, Do you have what you need?

O’Keefe replies, Yes, sir. The two set off up US 285 north with lights flashing, no siren. The car settles into a nice 77 mph on an open highway.

About five miles down the road, PFC O’Keefe asks Lieutenant Smith, Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, where and what is our mission?

Well, it’s about time, O’Keefe. I was wondering when you were going to ask. You’re not too curious, are you, son?

Well, I am, sir. I just didn’t know if it was my place to ask.

One day, O’Keefe, you are going to be an extraordinary soldier. To answer your question as to where, it is in Corona, and our mission is classified. I will brief you when I get a feel for the situation.

Okay, sir. Do you mind if I smoke?

Hell no, soldier. I was about to light up myself.

O’Keefe asks Smith, You work mostly in the office, don’t you, sir?

Yes.

I hope I’m not out of line, but what is that secretary like?

Who do you mean, Private?

You know which one. Cindy?

Do you mean Private Jennings, O’Keefe?

Yes, sir, that’s what I meant, Private Jennings.

I’m just fucking with you, son. That girl is built like a brick shithouse with an angel’s face. She is absolutely beautiful. You interested in her, Private?

Yes, sir, me and every swinging dick in the barracks.

"Well, all I can tell you is, grow a pair and talk to her. What’s the worst that can happen? If you don’t start asserting yourself, soldier, you’ll never know what