The Greatest Battle That Never Happened

The Greatest Battle That Never Happened

                                                                 “Wine for my men, we ride at dawn.”

-       Three Musketeers (Maybe…or?)

Tucked away in near obscurity in the closing pages of history books on American warfare, or relegated to secondary import as found in the small print footnotes below, nestles a little-known fact about our country's critical battles. Each and every time history beckoned, a Farnsworth answered the call.

Christmas, 1776- General George Washington crosses the Delaware and solidifies his place as the heroic founder of our nation. Sadly, little note has been made of the man who made it all possible, Phineas T. Farnsworth, who manned the rudder of Washington’s boat, skillfully and courageously maneuvering the lead craft through the ice flows that chilly night. No Farnsworth, no successful landing, no victorious surprise attack, and no United States of America.

Winter, 1812- General Andrew Jackson hastily organizes a conglomeration of ragtag “soldiers” to defend the City of New Orleans from British attack. Greatly outnumbered, Jackson needed an imaginative, formidable defensive strategy to thwart the oncoming onslaught. As Jackson discussed possible deployments and fortifications one evening at dinner with his Lieutenants, the waiter serving his table that night, Filbert Farnsworth, offered a suggestion.

“Uh…excuse me, sir, but I have an idea. Maybe we could, like…you know, construct a barrier, a wall, or some kind of obstacle…like a mile long…to defend the City.”

Jackson pounced on the idea, and the mile-long breastworks known as “Line Jackson”, proved instrumental in defeating the British. No Farnsworth, no “Line Jackson”, no United States of America.

1836, San Antonio Texas- Mexican forces led by General Santa Anna lay siege to the Alamo and demand the surrender of its 215 defenders. Colonel William Travis answers the demand with a cannon shot fired over the wall, and the courageous gesture and ensuing heroic defense serve as a rallying cry that lives through the ages. Unbeknownst to most U.S. history buffs, the man behind the cannon shot was none other than Ferris Farnsworth, the highly trained armaments man designated with the task of loading the cannon with ball and powder. No Farnsworth, no cannon shot, no Texas.

!863, Vicksburg, Mississippi- General Ulysses S. Grant’s attempts to take the City, considered “The Gibraltar of the Confederacy” because of its critical location, are repeatedly rebuffed by Confederate Forces. One evening in his headquarters, the General throws up his arms in frustration, and exclaims “Jesus Christ, how do I beat these guys?!”

Fate put the General’s orderly within earshot, and Private Finnean Farnsworth approached the General.

“Excuse me, sir, but instead of constantly throwing our forces at them, why don’t we just bomb the shit out of them until they can't take it anymore?”

The advice was followed, Vicksburg was taken, and the Union forces went on to win the war. No Farnsworth, no bombing the shit out of the City, and no United States of America.

1919, Norilsk, Russia-

No entry above as nothing happened.

It is fascinating to take a look back at the decisive battle that wasn’t. One of the most significant events in human history left its mark by an act of omission, and of course, it involved a Farnsworth.

Fearless Freddy Farnsworth was destined for greatness. Handsome, daring, and first in his class at West Point, Fearless Freddy quickly rose in the ranks of the U.S.Army and distinguished himself with countless acts of valor at the Battle of Belleau Wood during World War I. Toward the end of the war, Fearless Freddy received a radio transmission.

“Freddy, you’ve got a call on the 2-way.”

“Who is it?”

“He says he’s General Pershing.”

“Right.”

And right he was. General John J. Pershing was calling Fearless Freddy to tab him to lead one of the most daring military operations in history, one that could alter the borders of nations for centuries to come.

“Farnsworth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those pesky Bolsheviks are on a course that could upset the world order. Wilson wants us to intervene and help the White Army defeat those Red Army bastards and restore things to pre-revolution days. We need a good man to lead our forces, and I’m told you are the guy for the job.”

“That’s nice to hear, especially coming from you, sir. Uh, what’s the job?”

“We’ve got 3,000 men stationed in the hills outside Norilsk. You’ll parachute in tonight and be briefed by our field commanders. You will attack at dawn. The timing is critical and top secret. We must attack at dawn.”

“Norilsk? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s Russia’s northernmost city. We’ll establish a base there and keep moving south. With their whole country in disarray, Wilson thinks we could take over the country and suck out their oil and minerals… and provide a nice vacation destination for people who don’t like to go where it’s warm.”

Fearless Freddy was both humbled and excited about his new orders. He knew his family’s history of military service, and now he would accomplish a spectacular feat that would finally give the Farnsworth name a long-deserved prominent place in the history books.

That evening, just a few miles outside the small town of Norilsk, Freddy addressed his field commanders.

“Men, I’ve reviewed our battle plans, and I am confident we will be successful. The only thing you didn’t know until now is the timing. We attack at dawn.”

Freddie was met with a room full of puzzled and confused faces.

“Is there a problem?”

One of the field commanders slowly raised his hand.

“Uh, what exactly do you mean by dawn, sir?”

Now Freddy was confused.

“Dawn, you know, when the sun comes up.”

“Uh…sir…the sun won’t come up here for five weeks or so.”

“What?”

“We’re north of the Arctic Circle so we get that polar night thing. Nights can last for months in these regions. But they get some pretty long days, which is nice.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Afraid not, sir, so you must mean tomorrow morning, like 7:00 AM or something like that. If we wait until dawn, we’ll be sitting here for quite a while.”

“But General Pershing specifically said dawn. He was quite clear on that.”

“Excuse me, Captain, but why would they rush you over here in one day so you could attack five weeks from now?”

“Mmm, you may have a point there, soldier. I better contact General Pershing for clarification.”

“Sorry, sir, but you won’t be contacting anybody. There are no communications up here.”

“No communication?”

“Nothing, nada, the big zippo. You’d have to wait for the next plane in and out of here, and that can only happen after we take over the airport which can only happen after we attack.. at dawn or whenever.”

The serviceman’s curse- unclear orders followed by the dreaded need to make a decision and assume responsibility for whatever followed. Fearless Freddy’s dedication to the letter of the law and his sense of duty to carry out the commands of his superiors were unmatched. General Pershing knew where Freddy was going. He was a smart guy. He must have known about this polar night business. When he said attack at dawn, he must have meant dawn. If he wanted the attack to start at 7:00 AM, or 6:45 AM, he would have said so. For Freddy, the words were clear. Dawn means dawn.

“We attack at dawn… whenever that is.”

“Uh, sir, seriously, that’s five weeks from now. We don’t even have enough provisions out here to last that long. I think he must have meant, you know, like in the morning, early the next day, by the clock”.

“If Pershing says dawn, it’s dawn.”

Fearless had great difficulty sleeping that night. The General’s words kept bouncing around in his head- “We attack at dawn.” But why would Pershing want to wait five weeks before the attack? The U.S. forces could be discovered. The men were going to run out of food in 12 days. The average high temperatures would be cruising around the -27˚ F mark for the next few weeks. Did the General mean what he said? Could Fearless inject his own interpretation into the General’s words and alter the order?

 It was a troubled man who left his field tent that morning and looked to the east in search of a rising sun. It all looked pretty much the same as it did the night before- dark on dark and then more dark. A day without dawn didn’t seem possible to Freddy, but now he lived it. Victory and the ensuing glory sure to follow eluded Freddy that day, and the next, and the next, and the next. Every day Freddy struggled with the intent of Pershing’s words and the possible consequences of his deviating from his precise language. If he waited, Norilsk could be lost. If he attacked before dawn, he could be court-martialed and the Farnsworth name would be tarnished forever. All the while, the men were growing restless.

“Farnsworth, you freaking idiot, Pershing could not possibly have meant that we should wait five weeks before we attacked.”

“I see your point, but he did say dawn.”

“Oh, my God.”

Seal hunts were organized, and the men began burning their second sets of clothing and boots for warmth. Hushed references to the Donner expedition were heard in the early morning hours.

The men tried to reason with Fearless Freddy.

“Maybe he meant dawn someplace else, like where he was.”

The men all joined in.

“Oh, for sure that’s it. Silly us. Let’s go attack.”

But Freddy would have none of it.

“That’s not possible. They would have said something about that at West Point. Pershing said we attack at dawn. He must have meant our dawn. How could we know when it’s dawn someplace else? No, he wants us to hit them when dawn is upon us. Go and play some cards to get your minds off the cold. It is rather chilly out here.”

The talk turned to mutiny, mass desertion, and even doing away with Fearless Freddy.

“We won’t have to do it ourselves. We walk him out a mile or so, tie him to a post, and let the polar bears get him. That way our hands are clean.”

In the fourth week, with the men’s road to salvation still in the planning stages, fate intervened. A small group of men, women and children were spotted on the horizon approaching the camp. The men sought to take advantage of the opportunity.

“Ok! They are attacking us, so let’s attack them. We don’t need no stinkin’ sunrise. Problem solved!”

 “No, we’re not going to attack them. They seem to be coming in peace.”

One of the villagers stepped forward. Another dose of fate smiled upon the gathering as he had spent time visiting his nephew in New Jersey.

“We see you here long time. Must be cold…and hungry. Tomorrow feast of rising sun. Come join us. Big party.”

The group turned and parted. An offer of friendship and hospitality from a bunch of Russians they had never seen before. Freddy’s thirst for battle evaporated into the cold night air.

“Ok, we go to town, get some food and thaw out. Then when the sun comes up, when Pershing’s dawn arrives, we… oh, the hell with it.”

The cheers of the men could be heard all the way down the hill to the little town below.

And Fearless Freddy Farnsworhth’s place in history? In books published in the U.S.- not so much. But to this day, a nicely framed picture of a very inebriated Fearless Freddie doing the traditional Cossack folk dance is on prominent display in the library in the small town of Norilsk.