by T I WADE
“I’ve told the rest of our men to head for the border. You go and keep them moving. Shoot anything out of the sky you can. I’m going to take out their fuel tankers. That should give us some time and then I’ll catch up to you. Alberto, apart from refueling, you head south until I tell you to stop. Just tell me which road you are on, understand?”
Alberto nodded and Manuel allowed half of Alberto’s jeeps to head south before checking what weapons his men had. He then asked the men how much ammo they had. The answer he got was eleven rockets for four rocket launchers and three jeeps with a machine gun on its rear bed.
He headed south in the lead of his twelve jeeps and fifty men to find a place to prepare an ambush on the main road. Manuel needed a place where there was open ground and where the jeeps could easily escape south without using the tarred highway.
His forward jeep with his second-in-command driving found a good spot several miles further south. Manuel’s group had nearly caught up with the slower convoy ahead of him when they left the hilly area and found open ground of a dozen or so miles before the next range of hills.
There was a hill where the road had been cut into the side of it. On the other side was a long rise of scrub and bush about 400 yards off the road and continuing south into the distance. Manuel drove a mile further on then turned off the road and doubled back through the scrub to his ambush point. He lined his jeeps up behind the ridge for a quick getaway and gathered his men to check what they had.
He checked to make sure that all the rocket projectiles were HEAT, “High Explosive Anti-Tank” rounds. The four rocket launchers he had were all older RPGs, but he had enough to do the needed damage and he had his best RPG marksmen with him.
With limited time they set up the ambush. The two tanks would be the most important targets and he ordered two men with launchers to place themselves in a second ambush position half a mile further south. He wanted the two remaining RPGs to destroy the fuel tankers being pulled behind any troop carriers. Once hit, the tankers would become balls of fire which could take out several trucks with their violent explosions. Also, having a vertical wall of dirt right behind the ambush area, he hoped that the pressure of the fireballs would do painful damage to more soldiers, or at least their ear drums, so that they couldn’t hear orders being shouted. He had done this a couple of times in Colombia with great success.
All Manuel needed now was as much fuel as possible to arrive in the ambush zone before the tanks got to his second ambush further south.
His second two rocket teams headed south with the machine guns on the jeeps to do the necessary damage and to make sure the path was clear for him and his four jeeps. And then they waited.
It was only twenty minutes later when the first tank arrived traveling at a good twenty miles an hour. This was followed by three armored personnel carriers with machine guns sticking out of their turrets. The second tank was next, then a second group of three armored carriers and behind emerged a dozen troop carriers.
Manuel worked out the distance between his two ambush points. A quarter mile was already used up and he began to sweat.
Finally, the first troop carrier pulling a heavy fuel tank presumably for the tanks up front came into sight and he got ready with his radio mike. He whispered orders for the first man with an RPG to bead his aim on the first tanker. It held about 500 gallons and looked heavy by the way its tires were squashed nearly flat. Then came a second tanker and two jeeps followed behind it.
“We need to fire pretty soon,” whispered his radioman further south, and he asked them to wait a few more seconds. A third, fourth and fifth troop transport truck hauling tankers appeared as the radioman to the south whispered urgently that they needed to fire immediately. Still Manuel waited another two seconds until he shouted fire over the radio. His gunners rose as one, took aim and got their rockets off before the Mexicans saw them.
It took twenty seconds to reload and aim the launchers and two massive explosions hit their ears as two of the tankers took direct hits. A second massive blast hit them, hurting their ears from 400 yards away. Manuel watched as his second launcher fired their second volley towards the lead troop carriers 700 yards away. Again a vehicle took a direct hit as the third and last RPG rocket fired by his fastest team flew high and hit the embankment feet above its intended target. Millions of pieces of rock and stone whistled out in all directions and Manuel shouted to get into the vehicles and get out of here.
His jeep’s RPG gunner was reloading and then aimed his third and last rocket at another truck and tanker, and Manuel waited for him as the others aimed their jeeps south. It hit the truck which seemed full of supplies and the truck, now a fireball, lifted off the road into the air and landed on its fuel tanker which immediately blew apart causing Manuel’s ears to ring. He grabbed for the passenger side of the jeep and they followed the dust of the others before the surprised Mexican troops had fired their first shot.
He reached his second ambush point and the jeep stopped and he stood up to look over the rise to view the damage. There were two armored vehicles heading directly towards his position, one tank had smoke coming out of its turret and the other was going around in circles, a track had been damaged by the RPG rocket. He saw three of the armored vehicles burning and he sat down and slapped his driver to move forward.
“We have armored vehicles at 300 yards, get going!” he screamed to his driver. He then radioed to the rest of the jeeps making a massive dust storm in front of him to get back onto the asphalt to stop the dust and wait for him. He needed help getting the armored cars off his tail.
His jeep was at full speed and his crew was hanging on for their lives as he saw a pattern of bullets hitting the sand to his left. He shouted to his driver to go over the dune and head for the road. He heard bullets whistling overhead as the driver turned slightly, hit the dune, made the jeep rise into the air and they were over with the road a couple of hundred yards in front of them. Manuel saw the last of his jeeps and men rising over the dune in front of them.
The jeeps were much faster than the armored vehicles behind and it only took several seconds before they were over the rise and out of range of the machine gunners on the armored cars getting further and further behind.
They drove for several hours before several vehicles needed to halt for refueling. They caught up with Alberto’s slower vehicles averaging about thirty-five miles an hour with the heavy troop carriers and fuel tanker transporters at maximum speed. Much like the Mexican army, now several miles behind, they could not move any faster. Manuel and Alberto had more than enough fuel to get to the border, a day’s travel away.
Also, no enemy aircraft had been seen for the last couple of hours as they had changed highways. The spotter plane, if there was one, was searching for them further north on the main highway. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for an aircraft to find them and during mid-afternoon their movements were noted. The Cessna was high and nearly out of sight.
Towards dusk they set up a night camp in the middle of open ground to make it look like to the aircraft that they were planning to stay overnight. It would take an hour to refuel and Manuel and his men had their first post-battle meeting.
“I hit the first tank a little low and it didn’t penetrate,” stated the first gunner to the brothers as they listened. “The left track peeled off and I think I damaged its wheels as it started going around in circles like a child’s toy. I hit the second armored vehicle directly and it blew up causing damage to the one behind it.”
“I hit the second tank in its sweet spot, Señor, and my round did penetrate, I saw a blast open up the top turret,” stated the second gunner. “I then hit an armored car but the round seemed to glance off the side and exploded on the one behind it. That one stopped with smoke pouring out of its front, Señor.”
“I hit my armored carrier, Señor Calderón, and one other armored car engine had smoke,” stated the third man.
“Good shooting, amigos, you halted their
armored advance and the idea was to slow them down,” replied Manuel. His own gunners reported what they saw. He had seen the same hits and the final tally was two tanks, four of the six armored vehicles, and at least four trucks with tankers and a troop carrier. At least the same amount of troop carriers must have taken damage from the explosions.
They had only hit the vanguard of the massive army behind them, but it had given them a chance to outrun them. Unknown to Manuel, the Mexican forces were still plugging along and only an hour behind them. Another brigade was heading in from the west along the coast road, a hundred miles south of them in an attempt to cut them off.
As soon as it got dark, hoping that the small spotter plane was now blinded, they packed up the elaborate camp they had made so that the spotter plane would think that they were making a night’s stop and continued south quietly without lights at a reduced speed of twenty five miles an hour. They spanned out so that there was at least a hundred yards between vehicles and they stretched for over two miles, Alberto’s jeep was the last vehicle and Manuel’s the first.
The battle had gone well today. The Mexican army was hurt, but he hadn’t lost a man in the last fight, so he sat back in the cool night air and dozed.
Manuel headed due south and hit the coast and the small coastal town of Puerto Āngel by 3:00 am. The troops, pushing hard to cut them off, were now only a few miles west of the town. Manuel could see a line of headlights a couple of miles long to the west of the town as he came across the last rise and saw the coastline silhouetted through his jeep’s windshield.
They made it to the main coastal intersection with the road which would take them south several minutes later and with no lights turned eastwards again. He radioed to all the commanders that full speed was necessary and they were to close up and keep to within fifty feet of each other.
As Manuel’s jeep climbed a hill and rose out of the town, Alberto’s jeep radioed that they were turning and he could see the headlights of the lead Mexican vehicle only a mile to the west.
They hadn’t expected another force of soldiers and they had made it by a mile. Manuel saw the lights turn left and onto the road they had just traveled down. The false camp setup the night before must have worked.
By dawn Manuel had connected with the 190 highway again. Over the next few hours the road turned from northeast to southeast. They passed through the town of Arriaga by noon and headed on the next ten-hour stretch of road to Tapachula, the border town with Guatemala.
It took the spotter plane most of that day to find them and it flew over at three that afternoon. Luckily, the entire group was parked under trees and bushes and refueling for their last leg when the tired men heard the drone of the next Cessna. Tarps and blankets were pulled out and the aircraft, again at a high altitude, passed over them searching, but not seeing any movement. Manuel decided to stay under camouflage and give his men a six-hour break.
By midnight they passed through the last town. Dogs barking in the night heard them pass. They reached the border post, freshly manned by several dozen Mexican guards. The guards didn’t stand a chance and as the convoy sped past the newly built wooden building they had dozens of machine guns blazing.
The Mexican forces realized a day later that they had missed the banditos and were given orders to defend the area until further notice. Ten thousand troops camped and got ready for a long stay.
Chapter 18
April Meeting in North Carolina
The meeting was over and the room emptied to rejoin the others. General Patterson asked everyone to head outside to see the new Wing of aircraft.
“General Patterson said that you are only a captain, not a general anymore?” smiled Sally, punching Carlos in the shoulder.
“I suppose I was never a really good general, and it’s time for me to accept it and slide down to your lowly rank, Captain Powers. But remember, I’m still your Flight Leader, so don’t push it, lady!” Carlos replied, trying to look serious.
Preston looked over to Clint who was being wheeled down the runway by the President himself with Martie, Maggie and Lee’s sister chatting to the First Lady. The President’s two daughters, the Smart kids and Little Beth were in a separate group, all talking over each other and playing around as kids do. Even Lu’s younger son was in the mix. They all were chatting like birds on a wire.
The older teenage girls were in another group. The three very pretty French girls were chatting with Lu’s daughter about things of interest to teenage girls, Preston supposed.
He looked back and could see the excitement and wonderment in Clint’s face, actually meeting the President himself. He smiled and continued with his friends.
The general and the two admirals were in conversation with the other tall French lady, Marie, who was walking next to Mo and Lee Wang and Beatrice as four F-4s and the three Mexican F-5s flew overhead and looked like they were preparing to land. Mo Wang was talking to Lee and it looked like they were becoming family again. Joe and David were with their girls, Pam and Jennifer. Buck was with Barbara, they were never apart, and Preston realized that with this lot, it wouldn’t take much time before growth in the American population would be kick-started again.
The Super Tweets had had a makeover and were painted with thin pink swirly stripes in between their upper body camouflage. A painting of Tweety Bird adorned the side of each cockpit with the pilot’s name. The first single-seat Super Tweet had “Captain Sally Powers” written on it. The second had Captain Jennifer’s name, and the third had “Captain Martie Roebels” written next to its Tweety Bird.
Preston noticed the lone twin-seat Super Tweet Sally had flown in from Colombia. It was placed in front of the six single-seat jets and still had the Colombian military paintwork, but the paintwork had been added to with blue swirly stripes and this time the dog Hector was in the place of Tweety Bird. “Captain Carlos Rodriquez” was the pilot’s name.
Air Force personnel helped the pilots into their new aircraft. Most of the girls still had hours of training to go, but that didn’t stop them wanting to sit in their cockpits. For once Preston was jealous. He had never flown jets in his life and apart from Buck, he would be now flying one of the slowest aircraft in his group of friends.
“At least I can still beat poor Buck in his DC-3,” he thought to himself as the rest of the group stopped around a podium where General Patterson climbed up to say something. As he did, Preston saw the F-4s and 5s coming in to land a mile away at the end of the lengthy Andrews Air Force runway.
“With the approval of the President of the United States,” the general shouted for everyone to hear, “I now have the authority as Commander General of the United States Air Force to inaugurate this new aircraft Wing, “The Tweety Pie Wing,” part of the new United States Air Force. There was applause and the ceremony quickly ended as the first F-4 came onto the apron, making too much noise for any more speeches.
“You now have a much faster girl there!” shouted Carlos in Preston’s ear as the jets came in one by one. “There’s no way a propeller pilot can catch up and marry a jet girl!” he added laughing in Preston’s ear.
Everyone waited, covering their ears as the seven aircraft came onto the apron. Preston saw a second group of four F-4s fly low overhead and they turned in tightly for their final approach to the same runway. The aircraft lined up and personnel ran up with ladders as the aircraft parked.
This second apron was extremely large here at Andrews and as big as the first one which had all the civilian Boeing and Airbus aircraft being refueled.
The line grew as the eight F-4s were positioned in a line and the 3 F-5s in another. It took several minutes before the noise was reduced so that the general could continue.
“Mr. President and First Family, Members of the Armed Forces, civilians, I give you the jet-fighter aircraft strength of the new Air Force of the United States of America. We have taken over the F-5s from the Mexican Air Force who preferred three of the captured Chinese fighter aircraft fro
m the destroyed Chinese Aircraft Carrier as a trade. They were not much good to us as our service section was not set up for their technical systems, while the Mexicans are better equipped for the Chinese aircraft. The other two Chinese fighters are being given to the Air Force of Colombia as a gift of friendship.”
Preston knew that there was a lot of politics at play here and he was sure Carlos was right in the middle of it.
“Refitting the AC-130 Gunships will be complete in a few weeks. There are over a thousand men working on the project. We will have in total six fully-operational AC-130 Gunships, seven C-130 tankers and 36 C-130 transport aircraft. That is enough aircraft to put 3,600 men on the ground, or on the end of a parachute anywhere on the North American continent within six hours, and protect them with gunship air support. We are arming and will have another seven modified C-130 Gunships ready for the Colombian Air Force in about three months and they are to be used as a backup-wing from our south if we ever need them. These aircraft are our main airborne protection until we get more modern equipment, which I‘ve been told could be decades away. Our other aircraft now number over 380 different aircraft of sorts, from Huey helicopters to civilian four and two-seaters. Another 400 aircraft have been found which will be operational in the future. Most need radio and radar equipment changes. We are bringing several older Boeing 707 tankers out of museums and might have them flyable by year-end. There are dozens of older military aircraft which many of our personnel have started to work on and over 500 more aircraft of all sorts, mostly Vietnam-era helicopters and fighters that will become operational over the next couple of years. Now, our Air Force fuel reserves: We have placed heavy guards around fuel storage facilities at 28 of our major Air Force bases around the country and millions of gallons of all types of aviation fuels and other oils are being commandeered from all areas of the country. I estimate this will supply our defense aircraft with fuel reserves for the next decade. We have engineers working on stabilizing the fuel reserves for long-term storage and we expect to have airborne protection long enough to get our country into a stable phase of new peaceful growth and advancement.”
