The Brass Horde

Historically the Golden Horde represents the armies and territories of the Mongol Empire as they spread across Eastern Europe and Russia pillaging the wealth and enslaving people to further their conquests. The Survivalist movement recognizes the Golden Horde as the loosely organized mass of urban refugees streaming out of the cities in search of food and shelter after a calamitous event or societal collapse. This mindless throng would overwhelm local defenses violently stripping the rural countryside of resources destroying everything in its path.

I am not worried about this great Golden Horde moving across the land raping and looting as they consume all my beans and wreck my lawn. They will never reach me and I am not in a resource rich environment. I am worried about the bugged out survivalists encamped in the trailers down the road who's idea of preparedness is 40,000 rounds of ammo and a can of barbecue Vienna sausages. I call these unbalanced groups the Brass Horde.

The Brass Hordes have the resources to reach me entrenching themselves a few miles from my house. These groups neglected survival consumables but are obnoxiously well armed. When their minimal supplies run out they will turn to the guns and ammo. These are the groups I worry about. Below is an example.

The Brass Horde at least tried to prepare. They had a plan to leave the city, some supplies and a large stockpile of weapons. Their intent was to relocate to a remote site as a group and hunt for food. The small group is made up of family and close friends occupying the trailers used to escape the city. Unfortunately their resources are limited and unwisely thought out.

At first they have good luck taking a deer and several rabbits for a stew, all looks good. But after a week or so their water rations are getting low and their expensive filter systems are useless on the frozen lake. They are able to melt some water over the fire pit and on propane stoves but this consumes critical resources. Most of their daily man hours are spent collecting and transporting ice blocks to melt for water. The meat is running low, they are exhausted.

The Horde elders decide that a couple of the women should visit a nearby cabin and ask to fill their water jugs. The established local, not wanting to seem rude, invites the ladies into the warm cabin...the aroma of fresh baked bread fills the air. Warm cinnamon rolls and hot coffee are served over light conversation next to the wood stove. The ladies fill their water jugs from the solar powered well, thanked the local and reluctantly venture back out into the cold, it was the first time they had truly been warm since leaving the city.

That evening the women huddled around the fire telling the others of their days experience. A strong north wind brought frigid temperatures and a heavy snow started around sundown...the Horde retired to their campers to weather the night.

Then the propane runs out!

The temperatures quickly plunge after the heater went out in the far north trailer of the circled compound. The father whose survival skills were honed by many hours watching the discovery channel, decided to start a small wood fire in the oven to keep his family of four warm. The ensuing inferno consumed two of their trailers and damaged the other six as over 10,000 rounds of ammo cooked off in the conflagration.

In the blinding snow the elders huddled for warmth around the smoldering ruins of their grand scheme...they knew what had to be done. After arming themselves and securing the women folk and children in the remaining heated camper, the horde took off for the neighbors cabin. The howling winds of the blizzard masked their plunder as they made off with six twenty pound bottles of propane, a chainsaw and five gallons of gas. The blowing snow filled their tracks as they retreated back to the compound confident in their escape.

Unbeknown to the Brass Horde the local had witnessed the entire thing from the warmth of the bedroom after being alerted by his growling dogs. Shouldering his gun he realized that confrontation was dangerous against eight heavily armed men and there was a good change he would die if shooting started. The local also realized that this was the first of many visits by the armed bandits who, made confident by their guns, would steal what they failed to store through proper preparation...so he started baking cookies.

"Good morning, I have fresh cookies and hot coffee" shouted the local from his truck as he pulled into the Horde's compound. "You all look like you could use a treat on this cold morning" he continued. The men leerily looked at each other assuming that the local man had not yet discovered the robbery and was just being a good neighbor. The local waved and yelled "God Bless You" as he drove away. Over their snacks and wicked strong coffee the Horde laughed at how easy a target this cookie baking fairy would be...

Looking through the rifle scope from his vantage point in on the hill he saw no movement...the last one fell several hours ago.

Later that evening the local man returned to the compound, collected the bodies and placed them neatly in the largest trailer. Gathering the stolen items plus the Hordes guns and abundant ammunition for barter he proceeded to pour gas in each of the remaining campers then burned everything to the ground. Cyanide in the coffee and cookies.

A heavy snow that night covered over the remains and the evident "mass suicide" was not discovered until later that springs. It was chalked up to collapse related hysteria...no further investigation.

This past elk season there was an encampment like the one mentioned above down the road from me, they stayed for ten days. Of course I had to run the what if scenarios through my mind. And just cause you will ask no I did not poison them.

How would you have handled the group? What would you have done differently?