Chapter 206
Civilian Conservation Corps
Chapter 206 Civilian Conservation Corps
"The second thing?" Adams frowned. "Besides building dams, what else can we do?"
Arthur asked, "Governor, have you ever seen a black storm?"
Adams nodded.
"I've seen it. Several times this spring, it blew away a third of the topsoil in my state."
Arthur turned to look at him: "Then do you know why there are black storms?"
Adams paused for a few seconds, then said, "Because of drought. Because of over-cultivation."
"Yes. The land was originally covered with grass or trees, and the roots of those grasses could hold the soil and prevent the wind from blowing it away. But the farmers cleared the vegetation and planted wheat, but when the drought came, the wheat died and the land was bare. When the wind came, sandstorms became inevitable."
He paused, looking at Adams.
"It's a vicious cycle. The more the land is cultivated, the poorer people become. In the end, the land is gone, and so are the people."
Adams sighed.
"I understand what you're saying. But what does that have to do with those 50,000 people?"
"Governor, you previously mentioned that people who can't do heavy work could be given uniforms and a piece of iron."
"Shovels, let them go plant grass and trees—"
He paused, then emphasized his words.
"They will become the most loyal builders of this country."
Adams was stunned.
"Plant trees?"
"Yes. Plant trees. We're going to plant trees all over these hillsides. Pine, cypress, poplar, anything that can survive."
"It takes five, ten, or twenty years for a tree to grow. But its roots hold the soil in place, preventing the wind from blowing it away. Its leaves block the sunlight, slowing down the evaporation of water."
"This is leaving a green line of defense for people decades to come."
Adams, somewhat puzzled, asked, "Why would those people be willing to do this kind of work?"
"Because of hunger and a sense of self-achievement."
"We not only gave them food, but also provided them with special uniforms."
"Once they put on this uniform, they are no longer homeless people or beggars. They are the builders of this country, the guardians of the Rocky Mountains, and the people who plant trees for future generations."
"This shift in identity is more effective than any bread."
"Kennedy, how much will this plan cost?"
Arthur waved his hand and said, "It won't cost much. The Federal Forest Service has a special fund that was originally used to hire people to cut firebreaks. But now, we can use it to hire people to plant trees."
He pulled a pre-written application report from his pocket and handed it to Adams.
"You just need to sign this and send it to Washington. Tell them Colorado needs to form a civilian conservation corps," responsible for planting one million trees and building 500 kilometers of firebreaks in the Rocky Mountains. This work will require 10,000 workers.
Adams took the report and read it line by line. The more he read, the brighter his eyes became.
Will the federal government approve it?
"It will be approved. Because this money is officially for forest protection, not relief. Those Republican lawmakers hate relief the most. But they can't oppose planting trees. Who can oppose planting trees in the mountains?"
He gave a cold laugh.
"Furthermore, even if they wanted to object, they would have to ask the conglomerates that own timber businesses if they agreed. Planting trees is..."
Why?
"It's for future timber needs. It's building up wealth for future capitalists. Those big conglomerates are probably overjoyed."
Colorado border.
At 9:00 a.m. sharp, a military truck drove from the direction of Colorado and stopped in front of the barbed wire fence. The door opened, and Governor Adams got out.
He was wearing an old but neatly ironed suit and was holding a tin megaphone.
He raised the megaphone and shouted into the crowd on the other side of the barbed wire: "Oklahoma! Kansas! Nebraska! Listen up!"
The crowd stirred. Everyone looked up at the man standing next to the truck.
Governor Adams took a deep breath and shouted with all his might, "Colorado doesn't need mobs! But Colorado needs labor! It needs people willing to build dams! It needs people willing to plant trees!"
A deafening cheer erupted from the other side of the barbed wire fence.
After the cheers from Governor Adams and others subsided slightly, they continued shouting, "Where will the dam be built? In the Rocky Mountains! Where will the trees be planted? On barren mountains!"
"Those who work are not slaves, they are workers! For every day's work, you get a ration coupon! What can you buy with a ration coupon? Bread! Potatoes! Clothes! Housing!"
The cheers grew louder. Some were crying, some were laughing, some were kneeling on the ground, and some were shouting at the sky.
Governor Adams put down the megaphone, turned around, and looked at Arthur standing behind him.
"Kennedy, do you think this idea will ultimately work?"
Arthur, ignoring the soldiers dismantling the barbed wire and instead looking at the displaced people pouring into Colorado and the shovels gleaming in the sunlight, said earnestly, "Governor, this idea will work, and these people will do it."
He paused, then added, "You must remember one thing. From today onward, these people are not refugees under your rule. They are your soldiers. Soldiers who build dams, soldiers who plant trees, soldiers who plaster this land."
"If you treat them well, they will follow you. If you treat them badly, they will become something more difficult to deal with than barbed wire."
Adams remained silent for a long time, then nodded.
"I've got it."
Two o'clock in the afternoon.
The cold barbed wire fence along the Colorado border was proactively removed by the National Guard.
Recruitment points were densely packed along the highway. A huge sign read:
[Colorado Waterworks Recruiting Office: We need 10,000 shovels; we offer dignity and hot soup.]
[Civilian Conservation Corps Recruitment Office: Put on the uniform and plant greenery for future generations.]
[Labor ration coupon exchange point: Redeem coupons for flour, potatoes, fuel, and daily necessities.]
Those refugees who were originally in despair and waiting to die, upon crossing the border, were not met with guns of expulsion, but with simple labor contracts.
Arthur stood beside a recruitment point, watching those withered men cover their faces and weep bitterly in the sunset as they received their first ration coupon.
He watched as those young people, whose eyes had previously been vacant, straightened their backs after putting on those old, drab gray military uniforms.
A young man walked past him.
He was wearing a uniform that was a little too big for him, and he was clutching a ration coupon he had just received tightly in his hand. As he walked past Arthur, he stopped and glanced at him.
"You're the one who wrote the book, right?"
Arthur nodded.
The young man suddenly reached out and grasped Arthur's hand.
"Thank you."
He only said those three words, then let go of her hand, turned around and ran towards the group that was gathering in the distance.