Militia leaders in Montana and nationwide have tried to distance themselves from Project 7 and the attendant media storm. The talk of guns and death lists clearly goes against the image of kinder, gentler militias they're working to cultivate.
Gritz, a highly decorated Vietnam veteran, has considerable cachet in the patriot movement. He achieved fame in the 1980s for leading unsuccessful forays into Vietnam in search of prisoners of war. In the early 1990s, he helped persuade white supremacist Randy Weaver to leave his cabin at Ruby Ridge, Idaho, after an 11-day standoff left a federal marshal and Weaver's wife and son dead. A few years later, he claimed credit for helping negotiate an end to the standoff between federal agents and the Montana Freemen.
In the wake of the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, he says, militias should be rushing to help the federal government -- in spite of their mistrust. And, he says, the militia movement based on government accountability, God and the Second Amendment needs to be wary of the violent racists who would corrupt it.
"Rather than putting face paint all over yourself and camouflage and assault rifles, acting like you're shooting the FBI and Jews and whatever," citizens' groups should instead "be prepared in the event of national emergencies while authorities are overtaxed," Gritz says.
In Michigan, militia groups are going a step further: They've offered the government their expertise in training domestic anti-terrorist forces.
Michigan was a hotbed of militia activity in the early 1990s. It was there, in fact, that McVeigh lived for a time with accomplice Terry Nichols. At one point, the Michigan Militia purportedly had 6,000 members, making it the country's largest citizen militia. But it fell into disarray after the Oklahoma City bombing. Norm Olson formed a new militia group in Northern Michigan in the late 1990s; lack of interest forced him to deactivate it last July.
After Sept. 11, militia groups in Michigan met to discuss their response to the terrorist attacks. When the Justice Department did not respond to their formal offer to provide anti-terrorist training, they decided to start the training on their own. According to the militia's online field reports, recent training sessions have attracted several dozen participants.
They offer a range of expertise -- from firearms and gas masks to hostage rescue and emergency medical support. "We don't call them firearms anymore," Olson says. "We call them anti-terrorist resources."
However much they change, though, militia groups maintain their roots -- and perhaps no person embodies that more than John Trochmann, who lives about three hours west of Flathead County in the little town of Noxon.
Trochmann is a legend as the hard-line leader of the Militia of Montana; he also runs Project 35, which is focused on environmental and land-use issues in Sanders County. Trochmann founded the group after hearing about Project 56 in Lincoln County.
Since Sept. 11, members of the Militia of Montana have been busy. For the first few months after the attacks, militia officials say, their survival-gear was selling briskly -- gas masks, chemical suits, anti-radiation potassium tablets -- though they decline to release sales figures. And Trochmann has been invited to speak about global events to groups and at preparedness expos in several states.
At home in Sanders County, he says, militia members have been doing their part to help with homeland security, patrolling the Noxon Dam and hydroelectric power facility.
"We're all in this together," Trochmann says. "Please don't believe what the mainstream media's been saying about us. We have friends who work at the dam, we have friends who live downstream and we have a light switch, too."
County Sheriff Gene Arnold says he has been in contact with Trochmann, and he appreciates the militia's informal patrols. "If they're watchdogs, I think that's great," Arnold says. "If they see anything, I expect that to be reported so we can get it to the proper authorities."
And while he has had differences with the militia in the past, Arnold says, things have been quiet and even congenial lately, and as long as the groups respect the law and do not try to force an anti-government agenda, coexistence and cooperation are possible.
Though Burgert claimed past membership in the state militia, Trochmann says he did not know Project 7 existed until Sheriff Dupont told him about it in mid-February. And while he credits Dupont for making the arrests "without spilling blood," he has a quick, barbed response to suggestions that there may have been a broader conspiracy.
"We have to remember that the prosecution throws as much manure at the wall as they can to see if it'll stick," he says. "That's just par for the course."
And yet, Trochmann is evidence that even as the militias try to soften their image and assert new local influence, the old militia character that combines high-proof paranoia with intense hostility for the federal government and the United Nations won't die easily. While his Project 35 offers itself as a mainstream civic group, his Militia of Montana newsletter, Taking Aim, refers to politicians in its latest issue as "treasonous bastards."
"One bullet at a time," it warns, "that's how you'll get our guns."
Earlier this year, Taking Aim began a three-part series on Sept. 11. A fundamental theory -- conveyed in stories, first-person accounts, photos and charts -- is that the twin towers of the World Trade Center were brought down not by fuel-laden jetliners, but by internal bombs.
"We believe this [the skyjacking and terrorist attack] is a fantasy they want us to believe," Trochmann says. "We believe wholeheartedly these towers were blown up."
The upcoming series finale will explore the "Arab connection {or lack thereof}," according to one of Trochmann's notes in the latest issue. If al-Qaida didn't attack the towers and the Pentagon, who did? Trochmann insinuates that the U.S. government was involved.
He points to the USA PATRIOT act and other measures that have expanded the federal government's power to spy on its citizens. The militias have been enduring such scrutiny for years, he says, and so it's no surprise that the government should extend its reach after Sept. 11. He cites a statement he has just received from a source he describes as a retired CIA agent, warning that Islamic militancy and the "war on terrorism" will be used as a straw man to take away basic American rights.
"Who gains from this terror?" Trochmann asks. "That's how you have to analyze a crime."
Olson, in Michigan, is similarly skeptical. "There's something else going on here, and terrorism is simply a cover story to get something else done," he says. "My basic theory is that this is a wonderful way to rebuild the CIA and the FBI and the military after it was decimated by our friend Bill Clinton."
But in Olson's view, Bush is no better. He rebukes Bush for not talking enough about abortion and for being "a globalist like his daddy." The Michigan militia's earlier offers of support for the government aren't the same as supporting the government, he insists. In fact, he admits his group has an ulterior motive.
"We want to build ourselves up and not invite federal intrusion," Olson says. "And by calling it a civilian anti-terrorist force, the American people will nod their heads and appreciate what we're doing and maybe the feds will stay away from us while we try to defend ourselves against whatever the federal government is up to, which I believe is nothing less than the creation of a police state."
If fear of terrorism helps bring in new members, he concedes, "I'll go ahead and piggyback that as long as it benefits us."