WAR
I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was
war?"
Eve Merriam
President Shane Simba received a severe wake up call. Not from the sources one would imagine –a hectic and higgledy-piggledy personal life – but one of national interests. On an early morning before dawn, Somali warlords, ruffians, armed vagabonds and members of foreign terrorist organizations crossed Kenya’s borders to the east. The insurgents crossed close to one of the recently constructed military bases that Shane had ordered built. He was alerted by the Kenyan military and packed hastily to go to the front. He was taken by helicopter to a point where it was safe to launch a small airplane, not detectable as one carrying our President.
On arrival at the base, he set up headquarters in the main building and slept, when able, in a barracks. Oddly enough, this type of stress produced no ill effects in Shane’s damaged gut. The events seemed to fortify our young president. He was out and about on forays, encouraging the troops and risking his own life along with theirs. It almost seemed as if Shane Simba was designed for a life of military adventure. Covered with dust from mane to shoe, he would take a shower in his rustic room and join the soldiers for a plain evening meal. He would sometimes walk about the base during the post midnight hours calling encouragement to the guards. He almost drove his personal Masai warriors to distraction, so democratic was he in joining in with the ordinary requirements and demands of a war zone. On the international front, he was gaining kudos from other nations in not declaring war on Somalia. A world that had seen an inadequate and trigger happy American president take the entire world to the precipice of universal holocaust, was admiring of one who didn’t jump the gun.
On the home front, Betty, his pregnant wife, had to be tranquilized and put to bed for fear of losing her second child by him. Jane, the mother of his recently born son and daughter, was summoned to Bob Bushbuck’s office at the Masai Mara Daily.
“Jane, I know you have new babies, but the President is continuing his stay on the eastern border between Kenya and Somalia. He has been getting rave reviews for his bravery and attempts at talks with the Somali and other nations. Can you go there?”
“Bob, I will go immediately. I am a mother and a career journalist too. By the way, one of the perquisites of being married to a Leoparde heir is that I have plenty of household help to tend my babies.”
“I will send you in our plane as far as is safe and then a helicopter will await you there.”
“I’ll be ready this afternoon.”
“Good luck, Janie and again – thanks.”
The helicopter blades chopped through the dust filled air, spraying clouds of grit on those standing about. It landed on a pad not far from the center of the military base. Jane was helped off by members of the Kenyan air force. She looked about her, trying to spot the President. She found him not too far away, surrounded by soldiers. He was speaking with them, his back turned to her. She brushed her dusty hair from her eyes and made her way toward him. She stood just behind him, listening to his words and noticing that any scrap of uncertainty had been shorn from him like tender branches in gale force winds. He stood tall; his words filled with confidence and shared experience. When he turned to face her, the slightly dazed look of the past few weeks had evaporated and in its place was a look of fierce determination in the sea green eyes. She stepped forward and proffered her paw.
“Mr. President, my boss asked me to come here and cover this amazing story.”
“Glad to see you, Jane. As you can see, this is not an easy place to be.”
“I’m accustomed to those, President Simba. I’ve covered my share of fronts.”
“Get the boys to find some lodgings for you. I think there’s an extra room not too far from mine and comparatively safe from night marauders and shells.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
‘
Lachlan had prepared a marvelous meal. We were playing host to poor Betty Simba. The soufflé was begging to be eaten before it fell but that was not to be very soon.
“Lachlan, he will die out there,” sobbed Betty, who filled with tranquilizers and too much wine, was sitting on our sofa, her head on Lachlan’s shoulder.
“Betty, your husband is the President of Kenya and Kenya is involved in a serious conflict. He has to be with his military at this time. You will have to steel yourself.”
“I can’t stand it if something happens to him,” she blubbered into my handkerchief.
I finally spooned the already deflating soufflé onto plates and took them in trays to the den.
“Luke, I’m so sorry Jane had to leave you and the children and join my dad at the front,” said Staci Simba as she expertly guided the twin engine Cessna across a bumper crop of cumulous clouds with Luke Leoparde in the co-pilot’s seat.
“She’s a reporter, Staci. I knew that when I married her. I’m sorry your dad is in such peril.”
“He’s a President but I didn’t know that when he fathered me,” she giggled.
“Let’s drown our worries in a drink and supper at my house when we land. My cook makes the world’s best barbecue and potato salad. You can see the kids. They’re crawling just a little and their eyes are open now. You may know my older boys. I think they go to your school, maybe a class behind.”
“I’d like that, Luke.”
She heard the water running as she entered the room. His Masai guards, knowing what she meant to him, had let her in the door to his barracks. Jane crept to the shower stall. His naked form was visible behind the flimsy curtain. She removed her clothes quietly and pulled the curtain aside. He saw her and with fierce desire and infinite love in his eyes, grabbed and held her so tightly to him she felt need of a deep breath.
“Janie, Janie,” he moaned into her dampening fur.
“You could be a young Saracen lord fighting in the Crusades…..you so look the part, Shane. You are magnificent. I am so proud of you.”
She kissed him all over his face and moved downward.
After they had made love many times on his narrow bed, they lay for a while speaking of their children, themselves and this threatened war. Finally, they dressed and went to join the soldiers for the evening meal.
in the barracks.....
The situation between Kenya and Somalia worsened. More of our troops were placed on the borders. Our war ships closed in on Somalia still within international waters. One of our ships was fired on by a frigate out of Mogadishu, Somalia’s main seaport city. It was a tense time in the lives of Kenyans. Our newspapers and televisions were filled with headlines and twenty four hour reportage of the President, the military and their battles with the insurgents. As in renegade wars with the guerilla tactics and weapons that are so prevalent these days, many casualties occurred on both sides.
Things were tense in the State House, waiting any word from Shane aside from the regular news agencies. There were daily feeds in the Masai Mara Daily written by Jane. Vice President Daniel Lyon did a superb job covering for the absent Shane. Justice Minister, Sloane Simba worked around the clock with Daniel as did I.
Shane and his lioness reporter in front of a tank.....
Those that seemed to thrive on the situation were the President and his journalist lover. In the thick of things, even engaging in forays and skirmishes with the enemy, Shane and Jane seemed to gain strength both physically and psychically. She, with her camera and recorder, would sit behind him in a military vehicle and join the fray. The more bullets whizzed past them, the greater grew their confidence and excitement. In the twilight, the couple sought the camaraderie of the soldiers and generals. Late at night, finally returning to his room, they would shower the invasive grime from their bodies before making love on his very basic bedding. Their steps were light, with a fire and determination in their eyes that impressed all who saw them. Jane was privy to the conferences with his generals and the planning that went on for the next day’s operations. Shane, though weary, seemed in the peak of health. The military seemed to sense they were a couple and made it possible for them to be together at night with a complete lack of judgment. The soldiers and generals were now totally devoted to the President that had fought alongside them. They had always liked Jane, who had covered many an event as a reporter.
A young male lion from an unremarkable pride decided to form an army of big cats. He put his message forth from the prime time news desk of Dodi Dik Dik Lyon at WMM-TV, who screwed him after the broadcast. His clarion call got results. Even Ashley Lyon volunteered to use some of the safari club planes to ferry necessities to the front. He and Luke offered to fly them. A patriotic and unified Kenya was ready to kick the asses of the war lords and rubbish that governed Somalia. The world was waiting for the next chapter in the catalog of extremism and insurgency to be played out.
“I want to go with you to the front, Luke, when you take the food for the troops,” begged Staci Simba.
“Staci, I can’t let you do that. You are the President’s daughter. He would have me tarred and feathered for bringing you there.”
“No, Luke, please. I am very strong and involved up to my ears in Kenya.”
He saw the determination in the amber eyes of Shane Simba’s daughter. He relented and they taxied to the runway and took off, banking the Cessna toward the east and the war front.
It was twilight in the midst of a dust storm when they landed on the base runway. They were escorted to the main building where Shane was conferring with his generals. When the door opened Staci spotted her father with two men and Jane at his side. Jane was speaking and Shane was listening. In the time it takes a heart to beat, Staci realized that her father was in love with Jane and that they had a soul bonding intimacy that permeated the atmosphere around them. She would never be able to pinpoint her exact reasons for knowing. She only knew that there was something so powerful and palpable between the two that it could be seen and almost touched. She looked at Luke and in another burst of clarity realized that he knew about his wife and her father. She touched his paw gently.
“Shall we join them?” he asked his clear green eyes unfathomable.
The Exotic Animal Clinic, hospitals in Nairobi and clinics in less populous areas were beginning to fill with victims from the front. Staci Simba, with Dr. Juma Mnyama at her side, would visit the soldiers. She, Lachlan, Juma and Dr. Frank Tigeres paid a visit to the main hospital in Nairobi as well. The First Lady was asked if she could make a visitation at least to the Exotic Animal Clinic. I relayed the request to her.
“Oh, Maurice, I am pregnant. Certainly they don’t expect me to visit the wounded,” protested Betty.
“Betts, I’m afraid they do. I will go with you. At least pay a token call to the clinic.”
“I’m sorry, Maury. I simply must think of my pregnancy. This is Shane’s cub.”
There was no persuading her and I looked on in horror as she began to garner very unfavorable press and television coverage for her lack of patriotic involvement in the conflict. By the same token, Staci Simba’s pretty face was on the cover of every newspaper in Kenya for her dedication to the troops and her engagement in the AIDS battle.
“Betty, Shane is going to be displeased when he comes home and finds the bad vibes about you,” I told her, not without a certain amount of trepidation at having to speak so boldly to our leader’s wife - even if she was an old and dear friend.
However, Shane Simba didn’t need to come home to find those. A helicopter brought all of the pertinent newspapers to him each morning as in the State House. Before daybreak, he would read them over coffee by the dim lamp in his room.