"Hey, Tom. Tomorrow is the women’s golf tournament and both Jean and Barb will be playing both days. How about taking a little excursion with me?"

"What have you got going in that convoluted mind of yours? I know you too well to take your question at face value.

"Well, I must admit to a surreptitious motive. I want to measure the wind speeds and direction at several points up in Mir."

"This wouldn’t have anything to do with that complaint from Washington that they expect a bumper harvest of poppies this year?"

"Could be. I’ve got an idea I want to try out."

"Well, as long as it has a tie to duty, I guess I have to go along with you. When would you want to leave?"

"As soon as you can get out of that soft bed. How about 06:00?"

"Which car?"

"As long as your gas is paid by the government, let’s take yours."

"Okay, I’ll pick you up about 06:00. What about weapons?"

"This is a peaceful mission so I just plan on my rifle and my Beretta."

"Okay, see you in the morning."

At 08:00 the pair had left Dir behind and were climbing the foothills toward Chitral. The towering mountain Tirich Mir was shading the morning sun from them and Ed commented, "If Tirich Mir is east of us, we must be about on the Afghani border. "

"Do you mind?"

"No, just commenting. But it’s time to get to work. See if you can take that camel trail up the ravine after I take some readings here in these beautiful poppy fields." Tom stopped the Jeep and Ed walked a short distance away and then held his wind gauge high over his head and read the meter. Then he connected several lengths of a fishing pole together and put the wind gauge on the top. This allowed him to read the wind gauge some twenty feet above ground. He logged the readings in a little notebook, dismantled the apparatus and returned to the Jeep. "Now see if you can work your way up a thousand feet or so."

In similar fashion, he took readings along the trail up to where the air was thin to breathe. "That’s fine, Tom, how about trying the same thing in the next ravine?"

"Okay, I just hate to drive through those lovely fields of poppies down on the flatland before the harvest."

"Just think of the junkies you are depriving of heroin in New York. A few tracks through the poppy fields is a small price to pay."

"When are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"Well, since it appears it will work, I’ll tell you. Suppose from up here we shot off a Roman candle sort of gadget that exploded and blew clouds of disease spores for the poppies into the prevailing wind. This wind would carry the spores down the ravine and all over the valley. We should be able to destroy a whole year’s crop by working our way up a half dozen ravines."

"Damned if I don’t think you have finally come up with a good idea. Where would you get the spores?"

"The BBC had an article a few days ago about the U.S. and Britain cooperating on developing such disease spores. By spring they plan to have a virulent strain. The old Armorer would have no trouble making a dozen or so shotgun type shells or Roman candles to carry them up into the higher winds."

Tom chuckled, "It seems to me that this would be a lot easier than trying to stop the flow of heroin from the Villages south to the boats carrying the heroin to New York."

"And a lot less dangerous for us, too. We can go home now? I’ve proven my point, even to you, and ought to be able to prove it to Washington, also. What could they possibly find to object to this time?"

A month later, Ed was seated at a meeting in the Department of the State back in Washington. Officers from the Pakistan Desk, the Afghanistan Desk, the Iraq Desk and various functionaries were included. Ed was standing at the podium with a number of charts showing the wind flow patterns along the Afghani border and the location of the poppy fields in Pakistan, or perhaps Afghanistan, depending on the vagaries of the border lines between the two countries. He described his plan and then asked for questions or discussion.

The official from the Pakistani Desk immediately took the floor. "This whole plan is ridiculous. It constitutes a virtual invasion of territorial lands of a friendly country. Besides, it probably wouldn’t work anyway."

Commerce stood up. Heroin is the prime cash crop of the whole northern region of Pakistan. What right do we have to destroy their right to make a living?

Ed was about to blow his top. "I suppose you would rather let them turn the poppies into heroin and then spend untold millions trying to stop the drug from infecting our youth?"

One of a group of lawyers took the floor. Unfortunately, that is legal while your method, while probably more effective is not.

Someone interjected, "Besides, you might be killed."

The meeting dragged on with Ed getting more and more frustrated. Finally, Staton, Head of the CIA, called for a vote and then closed off the meeting. He took Ed’s arm and led him to his private office. He uncapped a bottle of old scotch whiskey and poured Ed a healthy dollop. Ed was not one to take defeat easily, especially when he believed he was right. It took a half hour before he settled down.

Staton commented, "The only valid point I heard was that you might get yourself killed."

"So who cares? The GNP of the U.S. is about 5 trillion. Divide that by our population and each person is supposed to be worth about $20,000 to the country per year. Assume he works 30 years, that makes $600,000. We spend many times that much fighting drugs every year. If you make that calculation for Pakistan you come out with a figure like $30,000. That would be a good deal."

"Ed Wire, you’re a hard man. You’d never get elected as director of health and welfare."

"If I did, I would sure make some radical changes."

Roger White is trained as an engineering/physicist. He spent the WWII years at the Naval Research Laboratory, both as a civilian and a Navy officer, designing electronic warfare equipment and making several incursions into Europe in search of technical data. After the war, he formed Roger White Electron Devices, Inc., to design and manufactured microwave tubes. RWED was acquired by Litton Industries and he became director of marketing for them. He later formed TUCOR, another microwave tube company and when it was absorbed into TRAK Electronics, he moved to Texas and became director of marketing for LTV. In 1967 he set up RIP, Ltd., in Peshawar, Pakistan. A few years later, he established Straits Industries, SDN.BHD in Penang, Malaysia, and became a VP of Design, Ltd. in South Africa. In 1965 he returned to the U.S. and spent the next 20 years consulting. He has written numerous technical articles and 10 novels covering his adventures in the mid-east and elsewhere. He is presently retired and living in Florida.

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