The Beaver Conspiracy

By TRB

There was a family of beavers, some of their relatives and perhaps some friends too, who decided to build a dam not very far into the woods and very near a four-way intersection. Beavers have no control over their desire to build. It is an instinct. Then they have these engineering skills that are just in there with the rest of their DNA coding and no one knows why. MIT was so impressed with the beaver's engineering skills, they made the beaver their school mascot. If you graduate from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, expect there to be a gold beaver on your graduation ring.

But back to our beavers and the intersection, which, because of its proximity to the beaver dam was often flooded under a foot or more of water. The intersection was underwater most of the Summer and Fall, then it would freeze in the winter, and clumps of roadway would buckle and crack and separate. So over the years, the intersection needed hundreds of thousands of dollars in repairs or needed to be replaced altogether, a seven figure expense.

Naturally, this was of no concern to the beavers, who in the years they had worked on the dam had unintentionaly no doubt, created several square miles of new wetlands. This is very good in one respect. Beavers can expand and replenish dying wetlands preventing various species extinctions and restoring entire sections of a viable ecosystem. As noted, there is not evidence that beavers know of their good works they just do it because they are genetically programed to do it.

The presence of blue jays has similar pro-environmental effects. What blue jays do is somewhat even more mysterious. They actually fly in large numbers to the edges of forests all over, where they pick up various species of tree seeds and bury them at the outskirts of the woods. It is significant that they bury them where they do. Their efforts result in a process called reforestation. In other words, this simple act by blue jays creates new trees and causes forests to expand. If they planted the seeds in the forest, instead of on the perimeter, the trees probably wouldn't grow to maturity. So where they bury their seeds is very significant.

Environmentalists can't say how much of annual reforestation can be credited to the blue jay. They will confirm, however, that the little bird's activities make a difference. So next time you see a blue jay, keep that in mind. He is a working bird, working to grow trees, to replace ones that have died or to expand an existing forest. Just think, one of these birds does more to help the enviornment on a regular basis than any member of the human species.

But again, back to our beavers. I might as well tell you now. These beavers were not aware that they were "trespassing"on a U.S. Military Facility, a U.S. Army fort to be precise, nor were they aware that their activities had drawn the attention of the base commmander, a terminal colonel, who for some crazy reason thought it was still possible he might make the rank of General if he could just transform this backwater run-down fort into one of the most impressive military installations in the nation. In other words, he was bonkers.

General officers are produced from the ranks of combat commands, not from bases in the U.S. New General officers are usually promoted to that rank while serving as the Chief of Staff for a Combat Division Commander. And that is that. If you are given the command of a small fort during your colonelcy, you are officially a "terminal colonel," someone who can be assured retirement as a colonel. But this guy, either didn't know any better or didn't care. Nothing was going to get in the way of his imagined promotion to general.

Naturally, the Beaver Conspiracy was his idea.

It began with the realization by a light colonel in an engineer battalion on base that millions could be saved in road repair funds just by getting rid of the beavers whose engineering prowress continued to keep the intersection under water.He mentioned this in a meeting with the base commander. Millions. Well, yes, over several years, millions.

Millions. Maybe his ticket off this crappy fort and a chance to wear stars on his shoulders, and all for getting rid of some mangy beavers who were costing the U.S. Army, and the State, who shared some of the expense, millions. Yes, if he could solve this problem, word of it would get back to the Pentagon and maybe they would give him a second chance, take another look, decide to give him that star.

Meanwhile, I was already involved with this issue of the beavers. But in a different way. As the editor of the base newspaper, I had decided to put together a "double truck" of photos and text on their activities in our next issue. A "double truck" is when you devote the center two pages of the paper to one subject or photos. I had already been down to the dam. I had fallen into the small pond the beavers had created holding tight my trusty Nikon F, had saved it from drowning and was now surrounded by beavers working very hard to ignore me. The dam was impressive. You almost could not believe they had built it.

I got a lot of photos of the beavers and their dam and put together the double truck. Liked it. I didn't mention in the small story that accompanied all the photos that the activity of these beavers was also flooding the intersection. I didn't mention it because I thought it might give the base commander the very same ideas he had, unbeknownst to me, at that very moment.

Every week, I had to sit down for an hour or so with the base commander and talk to him about what was going to be in that week's newspaper. He liked stories about himself as the base handball champ, his running the Boston marathon. Anything that made him look good was "news." He used to insist that we have these meetings during his morning run. But I didn't like this idea. "I drink," I told him. Hoping he would get the joke and leave me alone.Instead he said, "What do you drink?" I could see the confusion in his narrowly spaced eyes. "I can't run and have a meeting at the same time," I told him. I was a senior enough NCO for him to reconsider. No running meeting.

So here we were in his office. I was explaining to him how cute the beavers looked in the photos, how impressive their dam was, and how their work has restored an important wetland. Yes, it would be an impressive double truck. "I don't think so," he said and proceeded to tell me about the damage to the intersection and all the associated costs, etc.

As well as his plans to have all the beavers shot dead.

They would be shot by soldiers from the combat engineering battalion. Human engineers shooting rodent engineers.

But his plan didn't stop there. No. He wanted coverage of this brilliant idea, and not just by our weekly fort newspaper. He wanted civilian reporters there as well. "What if someone is accidentally shot?" I said, staring into his blank eyes, which were now widening. I told him, I didn't see how he could send a dozen or so privates into the woods with M-16s, shooting at beavers in all different directions without at least winging a civilian reporter. He thought for moment. Told me to forget about the civilian reporters. but he wanted me to be there.

Back at the office, I began my counter-conspiracy. First I called various state officials who verified that our military installation was on state-owned property that had been leased to the federal government for use by the defense department. I also determined that our base commander did not have the authority to order the deaths of the beavers. First he would have to go to the state environmental agency and ask them. Then he would need permission from a council that dealt in wildlife issues. In the end, he would probably get permission to have the beavers removed from the base, after about a year or two of red tape. But he would never receive permission to kill them.

Basically, I reported his plans to state authorities, refusing to reveal my own name. They sent a couple of cars full of environmental officials to the base to have a good long talk to the commander. The beavers continued to build. The intersection continued to flood.

Several weeks later the colonel called me. He asked if I still had that story about the beavers. I said I did. They look cute in the photos? I said they did. They're activities are restoring a wetland that is helpful to the environment? Yes, sir, that is true. We should run with it then, he said adding that it was a positive story that made us look good.

"And don't mention the intersection," he concluded.

"No sir, I wont."

(Author's Note) To be fair I must point out that blue jays are not always helpful when they are planting new trees within inches of major roadways, and beavers can be a real pain if they are unintentionally creating wetlands where the new high school is scheduled to be built. Also in the preceeding story, although it happened basically as retold here, I can't really be sure of exact quotes all these years later. So, they are the best my memory could do.