Blood Rivalry

As the countryside passed by outside the window, he thought about much of what he had witnessed and experienced fighting for the Allies. Just months before the war came to an end, he was wounded in the Ardennes region between Belgium and Luxembourg as the Nazis made one last desperate attempt to divide the Allied supply lines and regain command of the Western Front.

Since returning to the States, he had worked for a general at the Pentagon. The general was responsible for advising the House and Senate Committees on Armed Forces and America’s delegation to the newly formed United Nations. It was during these times, while recuperating in the hospital and working for the general, that Colin observed real power—power executed by those who actually had it, as opposed to those whose ephemeral grip was illusory at best.

While healing from his wounds in a hospital bed outside of Paris and waiting to be sent home, Colin read of protests in Manila staged by American troops after Truman announced that the plan to bring the men home would be slowed down to ensure troop levels were high enough to maintain peace in the Far East. The announcement met with large-scale riots, with nearly 20,000 soldiers openly protesting in Manila and Guam—something unheard of in the military. In response, Truman reversed course and kept to the original plan to bring everyone home as fast as possible. This demonstration evidenced genuine power—power executed by the masses.

Working for the general, Colin regularly visited the White House, the offices of numerous congressmen, New York City, and San Francisco. He attended fundraisers for political candidates seeking public office and went on lavish trips with the general and senators on the Armed Forces committee, paid for by wealthy contributors and military contractors hungry for federal dollars to purchase their latest tank, ship, submarine, jet, or weapons system.

From these experiences, Colin drew two conclusions. First, politicians thought they had power—and while some did, it was tenuous and exercised at the whim of the voter. No, the real power lied with the moneymen and the kingmakers, the men who picked the winners and who would allow them to stay in office as long as they did as they were told. Second, the voters, when acting en masse, could foil even the efforts of the moneyed class.

Ah, but the man who had the ability to leverage the appetites of the huddled masses, and to pick the winners and thus own them—well, that man had real power. That man could decide when a nation went to war. That man had it all.

These were the thoughts that occupied Colin, inspired him, animated him, and that would drive him for the rest of his life.

He was six hours from the Union Depot train station in Columbia, South Carolina, and then a forty-minute drive to the family home in the countryside. This weekend, he’d relax. Next week, he would pick up where he had left off six years ago: working for his father, learning the family business, and glad-handing the party faithful. But this time, he was showing up with his plan—a plan larger than anything his father had ever imagined.

This was the story Colin was writing for himself.