It’s 1864 and war time. The Congressional Republicans are lost behind enemy lines…
____________________________________

Stumbling around in the jungles, they happen upon the Congressional Railroad Line, well known for shuttling the Congressional Democrats back and forth from one lost battle to the next.

The Congressional Republicans decide amongst themselves to follow the rails for awhile, because at least the way is clear, even if the direction changes from one vista to the next.
The raggedy Republicans sullenly stumble along, stepping from one crosstie to the next. Topping a steep hill, they struggle down the other side, the birdies a-churpin in the jungle on either side of the track, the blue sky dotted with succulent puffy white clouds above, everything else vibrant greens and browns…
Then, rounding a blind curve they find where the unending rails suddenly part. The rails, made of iron, brittle at the best of times, were produced by desperate men on the gubment dole, burning off the emergency war stimulus money. Now, for several yards, one of the rails is broken into foot long pieces, probably from the heating and cooling effects of sunlight. That’s all…just the simple tug and pull of nature…normally not a problem when quality is maintained.

Amusement turns to wonder as they catch the sound in the long distance of the Congressional Troop Train huffing and chuffing up the steep hill behind them. Whoomp chuff chuff. Whoomp chuff chuff…

The Congressional Railroad Tracks are broken, the train is coming, and the situation is dire. The gallant Republican Leader, quickly assesses the situation and orders up his Congressional Republican Engineers. They confer briefly, and then the Engineers begin to issue instructions. A whoop goes up amongst the men, and they quickly organize into groups. He knows that only with a great and heroic effort may the tide be turned and the day saved.
The leader backs off a ways, pointing and shouting orders, urging his men to a fever pitch of desperate ingenuity.

At last, the Congressional Republican Leader stands alone on the tracks, one hand on his hip, the other on his sword, beaming at their accomplishment. Now, nearer, having topped the hill, the train is picking up speed… Chuff chuff whoomp, chuff chuff whoomp…. Faster and faster it comes…the fireman throwing log after log into the yawning maw of the firebox…Chuff chuff whoomp, chuff chuff whoomp…

Sitting on their hastily, created bleachers, the Congressional Republicans, just inside the camouflage of the thick jungle screen of vines of green and felled ancient trees of brown, are well hidden on either side of the track. They see the puff puff of the smoke rising above the shrouding vegetation before they see the richly ornamented Congressional Locomotive. Munching on the day’s ration of parched corn and a little hardtack, the excitement mounts as they catch sight of the locomotive proper.

It’s a beast, well constructed from the best iron available, black and sleek, huge clouds of jet blue black smoke puffing from the conical stack. Faster and faster it comes… Whoomp whoomp chuff, whoomp whoomp chuff…

The wreck was…magnificent. The locomotive, seeking permanence, found impermanence, and as it derailed, it pulled the cars and even the caboose on top of it. In the end, it was great greasy burning fire that didn’t last long, really.

The last thing the wide eyed Congressional Republicans saw on the one side of the locomotive was Harry Reid, his head poked out, a lunatic death’s head grin creasing his face, and Nancy Pelosi on the other, wild eyed…elated.
Unseen by the Congressional Republicans, the Congressional Democrat troops, behind, in the string of passenger cars (the paint fading and peeling) were already hanging onto their seats for dear life, as they had been since the ride started. None even saw the broken rails, though they had long feared such a scenario greatly.

Later, the show over, the Congressional Republicans melt back into the jungle. They could but scratch their heads and wonder at what they saw, for the train seemed to actually pick up speed when the engineers saw the parted track ahead. Were the engineers loco? It would make for a good story to tell the grandchildren. Many battles lay ahead, but the tale of how the enemy derailed themselves was told many a time around the campfires.

They say that today, when you visit the place where the Congressional Democrat Troop Train derailed, (The rails long gone, it’s now a much used combo jogging and bicycle track) if you listen very carefully, lightly upon the wind, you can still hear a ghostly refrain, sung in the minor key…

Yes, we’ll rally ’round the health care flag, boys
We’ll rally ’round again
Shouting the battle cry of healthcare
We will rally from the hillside
We’ll gather from the plain
Shouting the battle cry of healthcare...