This Is Only A Drill - Part 1

Let's say something bad happens. For example, you live in Sacramento, and a dirty bomb just went off in Los Angeles, about 350 miles to the south. You're worried that your own home town or maybe neighboring San Francisco might be next, and who knows but that a stiff sea breeze might be blowing a fallout cloud your way. Fortunately, you've purchased a cabin near the Oregon border, only 250 miles away. An easy half-day drive, normally. But this isn't normal. The streets are full of panicking people, the riot police are using a heavy hand to keep things under control, and nobody knows what the hell is going on. You're in an office building trying to get through on an overloaded cel-phone system, your wife is halfway across the city, dealing with God knows what, and your kids are in school at a third location, probably going through some kind of meaningless fire drill. What do you do?

First of all, you should have already talked to your family about the possibility of something like this, and agreed on some kind of plan. If you haven't, you can still put the phone down, because if you have kids in school, there is a 99.9% chance that your wife will be heading for them. If meeting at the school wasn't your plan, it should have been, because that's where you're both going to go anyway. So, you exit your building and take stock of the scene outside. It sucks. Mobs of people are running around, trying to pull their heads out of their asses, and traffic is even more of a nightmare than usual. In any large city, it will generally take longer to drive somewhere in a crisis situation than it will to bicycle, run, or even walk. So, hopefully you have a small emergency kit (“Get Home Bag”) in an inconspicuous backpack, in your trunk, and you can throw that over your shoulder and head for the kiddies. If you can afford to keep one of those neat folding bicycles in your trunk too, that's even better. But, if you're like most of us and can't, you're going to be walking. So, hopefully you thought to put some sneakers (or – my personal preference – police-style “duty shoes” designed for lots of walking and a little running, in all weather) in that Get Home Bag, along with whatever type of weather-appropriate outergear (at least a light rain-proof jacket) you feel is appropriate. If you pass any kind of store that sells bicycles, and it's open for business, this would be a good time to buy a bicycle. Fortunately, you had the foresight to pack a couple of hundred dollars in cash in your Get Home Bag, as the price of bicycles just doubled, and the credit card machines aren't working because the phone lines are jammed.

Incidentally, I do not – however sexist it may seem – suggest that women abandon their cars and walk into scenes of civil disturbance. A car – although by no means a fortress – is at the very least a large, blunt weapon. It's better to arrive late than never, and you may need that car to leave town, so ditching it at the first blush of trouble is not a great plan. If – as in the scenario I'm describing here – you're a married man with a two-car family, you should plan on your wife staying with her car, so that if you have to leave yours somewhere, you're not totally out of transportation.

Alright … Let's say you get to the school, but there's good news and bad news. The good news is your kids have already been picked up by your wife. The bad news is, she didn't realize that you were coming there, and didn't wait for you. Now you've gotta get home. Good thing you brought those duty shoes and/or bought that bicycle!

Several hours pass, and you get home. You had to walk/bicycle through some really bad parts of town to get home, and you saw people starting to do some light looting, but fortunately you had the foresight to pack a loaded handgun – with appropriate holster - in your Get Home Bag. If you're really smart, you've gone ahead and procured a legal Concealed Carry Permit, but if you haven't, you keep it in your trunk in a small range bag along with some paper targets and ear-muffs. Why? Because, “Officer, I was on my way to the shooting range when you pulled me over for a broken taillight and decided to search my car.” In the event of civil unrest, however, you're a lot better off to have a handgun – and to make the decision whether to carry it illegally or not – than not to have one. The cops are going to have a lot more to worry about than some dude on a bicycle with a backpack on, trying to get home to his family.

Anyway, you get home, and thank God, your family is safe and waiting for you. It's starting to get dark now, and no more nukes have gone off. If more nukes have gone off, that's the end of your story. You never even got out of the city. But, for the sake of illustration, let's say everybody's okay. Now, you've got a problem, because you've got fallout coming, and traffic is still a nightmare. Can you beat the cloud? Maybe. But wait, you left your car at the office. Did your wife get her car home? Do you have enough bicycles for everyone? Can the kids bike for half the night, in the dark, on highways jammed with panicking motorists? You're going to have to make that call. My tendency would be to think that, if no more nukes have gone off, this is now a Stay Home scenario. Tape up the doors and windows, load the shotgun, turn out the lights, and sit tight.

At this point, you have a decision to make. You can either offer to help your neighbors, or not. Nothing intrusive, of course, just an offer to help with their door-taping and perhaps a suggestion of mutual aid should circumstances deteriorate. If your neighbors are law-abiding citizens, they'll probably appreciate your offer of assistance, especially if you seem calm and competent about the steps necessary to seal a home against fallout. If they aren't law-abiding – say they're drug dealers or gangbangers – it may be even better! When TSHTF, they're probably just as scared as anyone else. If they aren't, they'll be out looting, and won't be home anyway. But, as I mentioned previously, there's safety in numbers, and while you don't want to advertise your presence – or supplies – to anyone truly dangerous, earning brownie points with free-thinking folks (who are probably fairly well-armed and have access to resources that you don't) could be very valuable. The judgment call is yours. However, for peaceful neighbors, it should be a no-brainer. They're much more likely to help you later than to try to ob you. And, if things get that bad, you're going to have bigger problems.

So, you sit tight for a week, and things aren't looking too good. The fallout was pretty minimal, fortunately, and the worst of the traffic is over, but the water and electricity went out the night of the attack, and the static-filled reports you hear on your battery-powered radio are making you think that more than just Los Angeles was affected. You've heard a lot of noise and looting going on in the streets, and if you had a car at home, it's either been stolen or had all the gasoline siphoned out of it. The cops seem to have gone home to take care of their families, and if there's any military presence at all, it's going to be focused in the commercial districts. You make the decision that this has become a Leave Home situation, and that you've gotta make a run for your cabin.

In the next blog entry, we'll explore the lessons learned on your hypothetical trip to your hideaway. For now, let's recap what we've learned so far.


To Do
-Make a plan with your family
-Prepare your Get Home Bag and your Stay Home Kit
-Earn a Concealed Weapons Permit


Get Home Bag
-First Aid Kit
-Bottled Water
-Sneakers
-Rain Jacket
-Hat
-Emergency Food
-Cash
-Handgun, Ammunition, Holster


Stay Home Kit
-Duct Tape
-Shotgun, Ammunition
-Food for a month
-Water for a month
-Battery or crank-powered radio

Leave Home Kit

- Bicycles

- Gasoline