Thank goodness for my note-taking skills as I share a tale that seems straight out of a Spaghetti Western comedy as we go back to the 70s when the Comstock became an unlikely battleground for the Silver City Guard’s wild antics during the Bicentennial Wagon Train’s stopover.
Captain “Clicker” Slocum led the charge, and the results were legendary to hear him tell it. We worked together at AM 1270 KPLY in Sparks during the early months of 1986, so I heard him speak of the escapade more than once.
“So,” he’d begin…”When the news broke that the Bicentennial Wagon Train would make its first stop in Silver City en route to Valley Forge, local committee chairman Grahame Ross, who also ran the Golden Gate Bar and doubled as a Generalissimo in the Silver City Guard, vowed to make it a day to remember.”
The Silver City Guard, known for its snazzy uniforms and annual parade accolades in the “Armed Rabble” category, was called into action. With the sudden announcement, preparations were frantic. Two Winnebagos, a Mayflower moving van, and a pickup truck hauling Sani-Huts joined the wagon train, setting the stage for mayhem.
Clicker, Bo’s’n Muller, and Lance Corporal White studied contour maps and planned strategy late into the night while Ross raised the red alert. Wing Commander Beaupre lamented the loss of the Silver City Air Force, sold for scrap a week prior, so his squadron would serve as infantry.
As the day of reckoning arrived, troopers gathered at the Tahoe Beer House, now serving as a command post, while Clicker prepared for “desert warfare” at the bar. The Guard was ready, with Cannoneer Greg Melton wheeling in the heavy artillery on his motorcycle.
However, things turned when Scout Charlie Wade, tasked with tracking the wagon train, whispered over the phone, “Captain, I am drunk and surrounded by the enemy!”
A baffled Clicker replied, “Bad news, men, our scout is bombed.”
Undeterred, the Guard continued to prepare for action. Recruits kept reporting for duty, and as the last report came in, the wagon train was heading toward Silver City.
Clicker ordered, “Men, they’re coming. Let’s move out!”
Troopers readied for action, some practicing strangleholds, others saber thrusts, and a few performing the Ghost Dance.
The Guard’s dramatic march towards the wagon train turned into a comedy of errors, with Clicker, momentarily confused about his missing sword, discovering his children playing with it. His command car raced off without him, leaving him surrounded by townsfolk.
Despite the initial confusion, the Guard sprang into action with a thunderous cannon blast, catching the wagon train by surprise. The teamsters and outriders halted their wagons, and the Guard charged down the rocky slope, armed and exuberant.
As the mayhem unfolded, Clicker gestured the wagons to the side of the road, “Consider yourselves under the protection of the Silver City Guard.”
The Guard raised a triumphant cheer, and Darius Jahaver added a fitting soundtrack with his banjo. Finally, Clicker thanked his troops for their service and dismissed the Guard, leaving behind a baffled but safe wagon train.
Clicker passed in 1992 or 1993, and his ashes were ceremoniously blasted over the desert landscape by Cannoneer Melton (whom I’d get to know better as “Straight Arrow” later that year after going to work for KBUL 98.1 FM) and a while back, I found Clicker’s name on one of the many bronze plaques in Virginia City set by the E. Clampus Vitus in honor of historical events or places, but damned if I can recall to what that metal tablet was affixed.
The Old Blog in the Desert 