The decisions that were being made in 2019 were going to affect 2020 and 2021.
2020's a no brainer. By November of 2019 farmers would have been planning what they were going to do in 2020. No brainer.
But 2021? Why 2021?
Hello! Seeds!
The seeds for 2021 crop cycle were produced in 2020. And they were based on really long-range forecasts by the major seed companies. They'd have to guess what the major crops were going to be two years in advance and lay on the right seed stockpiles.
But most of those companies had been "nationalized." The seeds they were considering were not being based on the long, long-range forecasts. Not the right forecasts, anyway. And genetic modification? I don't think so. Genmod was bad. Evil. Wicked.
But the emergency that was going on right then was cattle. There were too many. And no way to feed them through the winter. Most of the tofu-eaters who had taken over as ranchers didn't even realize that. And you couldn't tell them.
Some of the people moved out to ranches, though, weren't idiots. They asked the locals what the hell they were supposed to be doing. Mostly the locals told them to push off. But occasionally they'd get a bit of "you're going to lose them all come winter."
Everybody "culled" in the fall. It was the whole point of Thanksgiving and all the other harvest festivals in history. You fed up certain animals during the summer and culled them in the fall. That way you didn't have to feed them over winter. Pigs especially but also cattle. See Charlotte's Web.
Oh, yeah, pigs. Most pigs were raised on factory-farms. Ever seen the movie Babe? That big warehouse looking thing where all the piglets are? That's where most pork comes from. You don't turn out pigs to feed. (Not since the Middle Ages when they used to be herded through oak forests for acorns.) They have to be fed continuously. And there wasn't any feed.
So we'd get calls from local commanders. They were out there doing whatever mission and as one of their "corollary missions" they were supposed to provide "support" for "emergency agricultural situations."
So, you're a sergeant in charge of delivering a "packet" of emergency supplies. Let's say that it's to Lamoille County since we've talked about that before.
You go to the "random associator" which is the NGO you're favoring at the time. Say the Lutheran Church. And you drop your packet. But there's this guy trying to get your attention.
He's in a quandary.
"I'm an accountant. I worked for Smith Barney. They went under in the Plague. I signed up for this 'agricultural nationalization' program cause it had to be better than eating soup on the lines. I thought I'd be sent out to work on a farm not run it. My wife and I got put in charge of a dairy farm. I figured out how to hook the cows up to the milking machine and even found a guy who's still collecting the milk. But he tells me that I don't have enough feed for the cows for the winter and the feed I do have is running out and I can't find any more for love or money. The county agent's never answered my calls. I know you're Army but do you have a clue what I'm supposed to do?"
You had to be, at first, pretty desperate to ask an Army sergeant a question like that. After a while, though, people started doing it all the time.
So the sergeant says he has no clue but he'll ask around. And he asks his platoon sergeant. And the platoon sergeant remembers something about a department that is supposed to be handling shit like that. And because he's devoted to his job he dips into institutional memory and finds a number to call.
And, late, he calls the Emergency Supply Methodology, Agricultural Emergency Supply Methodology help-line.
And he gets a private.
"ESMAESM help-desk, Private Smedlap speaking. How can I help you sir or ma'am?"
Milk cows. Feed.
"Where is this? Vermont? Hang on . . . I'm waiting for my system . . . Oh, right. Okay. Vermont is anticipated to experience extreme climatic conditions in the upcoming winter . . . Waiting . . . Cattle will require long-term shelter for survival. Will require feed equalling x pounds of feed per head per day. Grazing will be a minimal option of no significant note to survival. Feed stores are at an all-time low. Current feed prices indicate minimal availability and are anticipated to increase over-winter. Absent large stores of on-site feed, recommendation is culling to breeding stock. Does that cover it? Yeah, that means they have to kill them all, and hopefully keep the meat and stuff, because ain't no food for them and they're not going to be able to graze. Hell, if they're outdoors most of the time they're going to freeze. I dunno if you've seen the internal forecasts but I hope you've packed your EWCS. I can e-mail you this shit if you've . . . okay . . . Platoon.Sergeant@us.army.mil. Right. On its way. Thanks for calling the . . . Okay he hung up."
As time went on, the number got passed out to civilians. At first the help desk wasn't supposed to answer questions outside the military but by the time I got there that was old history. AESM had been up and handling for nine months or so. So we often had to deal with tofu-eaters. Which was always frustrating but occasionally really funny.
I ran the help-desk. It wasn't exactly rocket science most of the time. I had about sixty guys on my shift. "Guys." Okay, I had about forty guys on my shift and twenty females. Two female lieutenants, even. It was strange. I was infantry. Having women working for me was an adjustment.
Generally, the response stuff was set up. Sometimes, though, there'd be a call that needed actual, you know, farming expertise. There was a progression for that. But we didn't get many calls on my shift and I was bored so I generally got on at Phase Two calls.
"Major Bandit Six. Hang on, waiting for the data to transfer."
(Note, my actual last name was fairly common. I don't think any of the people calling knew they were talking to "The Centurion" and I never let on.)
"Okay, I see that first line said you need to cull all but breeding stock. Frankly, I don't know if you can even keep the breeding stock. Pigs eat a lot and there's not much sw . . . Ma'am, they're there to be turned into food. You gotta kill 'em to do that. I know they're cute, but that's the answer . . . Yes, that's a lot of pigs to kill. I suggest a .22 in the back of the head . . . Hello?"
Yeah, I got some complaints. Screw 'em.
And then I'd occasionally get some guy who was really fucking trying and needed an expert to tell him what to really do. When I got those I treated them like fucking gold.
"The good news is you're in a zone where the climate's actually better for most farming under current conditions than before. This shit that's going on actually helps some regions. Okay, give me your e-mail address . . . Damn. Okay, gimme an address. I'll send you everything I can get on what should work there. I can't give you a degree in agronomy but as long as I'm sitting in this chair I'll hold your hand as much as possible. There are stores of seeds, pesticides and herbicides that you can use. We can release them . . . Don't go organic on me . . . Oh, okay. Right, here's the deal. You can still get winter wheat in the ground if you're quick. You're going to need hands to pick rocks . . . I'll explain . . ."