Fixed fortifications are a monument to the stupidity of man.
General George S. Patton, U.S. Army, circa. 1942
The North African Campaign
In every siege in the history of mankind, the besieged hopes for something to happen to relieve the siege. It is a completely passive situation in which the inhabitants within the walls of fortifications hope that they will somehow have enough provisions to outlast their enemies at the gates or that someone will come to their rescue.
But the besiegers have the advantage. They control the countryside and the access to food and water. They can come and go as they please. They can attack when they please. The only time they may give up the siege is if some other more pressing matter calls them away, or an ally of the besieged attacks them. In any case, unless the besieged come out to fight them and can prevail in battle, it is only a matter of time before the provisions run out and surrender becomes the only option.
General George Patton knew this. He led America’s most effective tank division during the Second World War. Tanks were fortresses on wheels. The mobility of power was what impressed Patton about the Germans. The German blitzkrieg made a mockery of old Europe’s Maginot Lines, the inherited strategy from the First World War. Patton knew that a “fort” was useless as a long-term defensive strategy. It only bought you time to regroup, protect the weak, and make opportunity to overcome a surprise attack. The belief that a fortress would so awe an attacker that he would give up has been an almost comical attestation to human vanity. It certainly is stupid in the long run.
The wrath of Nature is like an invading army. Its destructive power is sometimes irresistible. A storm shelter works because storms are short-lived. Things return to normal after a few days, at the most, and then it is safe to venture out.
Our homes are our “fixed fortifications” against Nature. We have a “roof over our heads” to protect us against the elements. We have plumbing to bring in our water and to remove our wastes. We have pantries and basements to store our food, our necessities, and our luxuries. We return to them at the end of every day when we must sleep. We lock the doors and windows so that we can rest in peace, when vigilance has made us weary.
There are times when the Bible tells us to lock ourselves in our homes until the dangers have passed (Isaiah 26:20). There are times when the Bible tells us to flee to the mountains (Matthew 24:16). There are times when God tells us to build a boat (Genesis 6:14).
During the last, world-wide cataclysm – as far as we know – the guy who built the boat survived. The people who hid in caves did not. There are some legends which suggest otherwise, but I think they represent the records of local or regional calamities. The Great Deluge was a global-scale catastrophe without precedent in the historical record, although the geological record tells us of greater ones in the far-distant past. We don’t think anyone other than Noah and those with him on the Ark, survived.
Noah’s Ark was a mobile fortress. Caves are not. A cave can be an impressive fortification. But there is no way out. If there is a “systems failure” of any kind, the inhabitants of a cave have no other options.
Noah’s Ark was not entirely disaster-proof. If the scenario described by Patten and Windsor is true, the grounding of the Ark was a harrowing experience as it slid down a mountainside and broke in two. God gives us a path to survival; he doesn’t always hide us from the terror of the experience.
The best source for information on home-made bunkers is Cresson Kearny’s Nuclear War Survival Skills. Much of what is to come will require the same skill-set taught in its pages. The book was the work of the Oak Ridge Laboratory. It comes from the Cold War Era, and is probably available online (see Oregon Institute of Science and Medicine). I still have my worn copy from the original 1979 edition. You should get one, too.
The book is clinical. It describes the horrors of a nuclear war in a way which may seem detached. Pay close attention to the details and weigh carefully the implications of what is said. Preppers build their bunkers and forget about things like the shock wave.
In God’s great eschaton, you will want a bunker. But I think it needs to be a mobile, amphibious bunker. You will still not likely survive. But you might. It depends on whether, like Noah, you have found “grace in the eyes of God.”
JWS – August 14, 2021
Survival Praxis is published bi-weekly only to the 2046AD.org website.
copyright reserved
