The Army Invades the Wichita Mountains

by CLARK C. VAN FLEET

AFTER the blood bath our continent suffered in the latter half of the nineteenth century, a sharp reaction set in throughout the nation. This was the period when the very heavens stank with the odor of decaying flesh from the valley of the Republican River to the Dakotas as the vast herds of bison were almost completely exterminated for their hides, and when every stream in the high mountain country was lined with beaver and otier fur carcasses, thereby offending the air as the bundles of peltry moved by bateau and pack train to points along the Mississippi River. By 1920, in an effort to save the last remnants of formerly plentiful big-game animals, refuges were set aside through the good offices of President Theodore Roosevelt and a dedicated group of conservationists who saw that the final chapter in utter destruction was near at hand. It was a long, arduous, and thankless task. But after many vicissitudes and a struggle against odds, a pitiful remainder of animals survived, and in some instances flourished. What we have today in the nature of unique ungulates and other rarities that formerly covered the western mountains and plains in untold numbers we owe to Theodore Roosevelt, Gifford Pinchot, Elliott Coues, and a host of others who stemmed the tide of waste and destruction. Now we are encountering forces within the government itself that seek to undo this great work of conservation.

In 1905 the Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge in Oklahoma was established — first because of the beauty of the region, second because it offered both summer and winter range for the animals the refuge sought to preserve, and, most important, because it was the last remaining area on the western plains that retained natural grass and other physical features characteristic of the early plains. On it were allowed to range American bison, long-horned cattle of the old Texas breed, and wild t urkey, with lesser game and a few prairie dogs. By careful guarding, these remnants flourished and have continued to do so to the delight and gratification of nearly a million sightseers a year. The preserve is a mecca for naturalists, students, and conservationists as well. It is one of the gems in our collect ion of wildlife refuges.

By unfortunate happenstance it is partly bounded on the south by the Fort Sill Artillery School. Old Fort Sill was nothing but a collection of cavalry barracks used to control and suppress the numerous bands of Indians confined by our benign government in what was then Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). Gradually, particularly during and after World War II, this reservation was expanded into the modern artillery school.

As the size of our cannon increased, with longer and longer range, the high brass in the school management cast sheep’s eyes at the stretch of country to their north and west now uninhabited by humans, except for refuge personnel. What a grand place for maneuvers and gun emplacements! Why not take over?

Their first effort proved abortive. Aroused conservationists and other interested groups denounced the plan both in Congress and throughout the country. The mass of the people waxed vociferous and the Army backtracked. Now, only two years later, the high brass have about-faced, and their latest attempt is devastating in its implications.

They have demanded that 10,700 acres of the refuge be turned over to them. The basis of this plea is national defense, an almost sure-fire appeal in the present state of national affairs. But the curious, the baffling part of this request is the falsity of some of the main tenets upon which it is founded. In the testimony of the Army’s representative before the House Armed Services Committee the following statements were made: —

“Approximately 80 per cent of the 10,700 acres which the Army proposes to acquire has been fenced off and access is denied to the general public except by special permit.”

“The recreational facilities are all in the northern 19,884 acres.”

“The portion of the refuge requested by the Army is the most inaccessible and least used part.”

The above contentions arc all pure fabrications, and I am sorry to record that the Congross passed the Army’s budget for Fort Sill without amendments.

These are the facts about the Wichita Refuge. There are six good recreational lakes in these “inaccessible” 10,700 acres. There are seven excellent picnic and public campgrounds accessible by line roads and with all modern facilities and garbage disposal. There are many miles of scenic drives, no permits are required, and there are no fences in the whole of the disputed area except along the southern boundary.

Somewhere along the line from adjutant to Pentagon the Army has become entrapped in its usual “snafu,” has got its signals crossed, or has found itself deeply entangled in its own red tape or, and this is a looming possibility, the high brass thought it might be pleasant to have a nice, comfortable recreation area all to themselves where they could build some cabins on any of the six lakes (the fishing is good), avail themselves of the excellent hunting such a former refuge would afford, and summer in the cool atmosphere of the Wichita range. It gets pretty hot come July in Fort Sill. The Congress should have investigated the facts. A question of integrity is involved.

The Congress also allowed the Army something over $2 million to purchase a strip of privately held land west of Fort Sill. This will add a parallelogram 8 miles long by 8 miles wide to their present range and will extend their total range to a length of 36 miles, not quite twice the maximum range of their longest rifle. Tf they can’t land their shells within a 3-mile radius at this distance with modern target pinpointing, they had better go back to playing mumblety-peg — the guns wouldn’t be of any service in a modern war anyway. If the Army wants this refuge area merely as a buffer zone, as its contention is, why not continue the coöperative agreement already in effect with the refuge management, which has worked so satisfactorily for many years in the past? The evidence indicates that the Army feels that it is now in the saddle, with public fear of the future as its riding animal, and it is going to press this advantage for all it is worth.

The Army has under consideration other demands that vitally affect game refuges in the Mountain Stales. It insistson taking over the Kofa and Cabeza Prieta refuges in Arizona. The Air Force requires that the Desert Game Refuge in Nevada be turned over to it for aerial gunnery practice. In each instance peculiarly vital havens for unusual big-game animals would be affected. Kofa is the final refuge of the Galliard mountain sheep and a pygmy form of our western antelope. Cabeza Prieta is a sanctuary for mule deer and other forms of western game. The Desert Game Refuge is the last and only home of the noble Desert bighorn making its final stand against the encroachment of civilization in this remote mountainous section. Those vestiges of native American wildlife would be lost forever if these Army exactions were approved. At Kofa the Army wants to experiment with lethal gases, presumably on the wild inhabitants of the area—a loss that can never be replaced, agonizing both to the poor beast and to the wildlife lover.

From the Sangre de Cristo range to the Sierra Nevada bulwark, and from the Colorado breaks to the sinks of the Humboldt, is a vast country of true and port desert, hundreds of square miles of which are relatively uninhabitable by man or beast. Even a lowly jack rabbit would have to carry a canteen and pack his lunch to negotiate much of it. Yucca Flat, which lies near the heart of this desert, has already been subject to the life-destroying impact of the atomic bomb. There are still vast areas practically devoid of life that could be utilized for poisonous gas experimentation, the firing of an “Honest John,” or the maximum range of a 280 mm. cannon. I think it is time we produced another Teddy Roosevelt.

Conservationists, sportsmen, wildlife lovers, it is up to you. All is not lost yet, but the hour is getting late. Congress has been buffaloed by facts, figures, and untruths under the Army label, and appears to be supine under this barrage. The congressional correspondence I have received in reply to my pleas on this matter has been filled with political innuendoes and hazy platitudes. In many instances my cries have been ignored.

As for the Defense Department, it reminds me of the farmer that had the mule to sell. In answer to his advertisement a customer came to buy. He looked the ancient quadruped over with meticulous care. Finally he announced succinctly, “That mule’s no good. He’s blind.”

“You’re wrong,” the farmer replied vehemently. “That mule can see as well as you can. I’ll show you.”

He led the mule to the barn door, pulled off the halter, and turned him loose. In the middle of the corral was an old and sturdy oak. The mule headed straight for it and rammed his head forcibly into the trunk.

“What did I tell you?” exclaimed the would-be buyer triumphantly. “That mule is blind as a bat.”

“Naw, naw,” answered the farmer in some confusion. “That mule ain’t blind. He just don’t give a damn.”

This sums up t he at t it ude of t he high brass. They just don’t give a damn.