by Tom Wilson
"Just a couple more nights, Colonel. But our camp's not far away, and we do have a telephone." Linda could have sworn that Jackie batted her eyes.
Tom Lyons was grinning appreciatively at the young Peace Corps administrator, and Jackie Bell seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. Linda decided to have a private talk with her about fighter pilots in general and the creep colonel in particular.
CHAPTER SEVEN
1345 Local—HQ Seventh Air Force, Tan Son Nhut Air Base, Saigon, South Vietnam
Lieutenant Colonel Pearly Gates
A hot message from CINCPAC, the four-star admiral in Hawaii, was waiting on Pearly's desk when he returned from lunch at the Tan Son Nhut Officers' Club.
SECRET
IMMEDIATE—TIME SENSITIVE
DTG: 250600Z APR 67
FM: USCINCPAC CO CAMP H.M. SMITH, H.I.
TO: CINCPACAF CC/XO/XP HICKAM AB, H.I.
CINCPACFLT CO/XO PEARL HARBOR NS, H.I.
7 AF CC/DO/XP/TACC SAIGON, RVN
7 FLT CO/XO/FO
INFO: JCS/JTO PENTAGON
USAF CC/XO PENTAGON
USN CNO PENTAGON
HQ TAC CC/XO LANGLEY AFB, VA
TFWC CC/TA NELLIS AFB, NEV
NOTS CO/VX-5 CHINA LAKE NAS, CAL
REF 1: (S) OPLAN CROSSFIRE ZULU
REF 2: 7AF CC (S) MSG DTD 230450Z APR 67
REF 3: 230535Z APR 57 MOSS/RYDER/ROMAN (S) TELECON
REF 4: 240930Z APR 67 ROMAN/RYDER (S) TELECON
SUBJECT: (SECRET) 7AF OPLAN CROSSFIRE ZULU COMBAT TEST
1. (S) 7AF/CC IS AUTHORIZED TO STRIKE TEST TGT (REF 1, PARA 12A(1)) AS REQUESTED (REFS 2 & 3), TO INITIATE TEST PHASE (PH 1) OF CROSSFIRE ZULU.
2. (S) WPNS LOADS FOR COMBAT TEST W/BE AS PER (REF 1) PARA 4C(5), AT DIRECTION OF (REF 4) CINCPACAF/CC.
3. (C) WPNS SETTING PARAMETERS & DELIVERY PROFILES ARE AT DISCRETION OF 7 AF/CC.
4. (U) SECDEF HAS DIRECTED THAT MAXIMUM PRECAUTIONS BE TAKEN TO AVOID HARM TO CIVILIANS AND FOREIGN NATIONALS AND DAMAGE TO UNAUTHORIZED TARGETS. MSN SUCCESS IS TO BE CONSIDERED OF SECONDARY, REPEAT "SECONDARY," IMPORTANCE TO THESE CONSIDERATIONS.
5. (S) THIS AUTH IS FOR ONE-TIME, RPT "ONE-TIME," TEST ONLY. TEST MAY BE CONDUCTED N.E.T. 26 APR & N.L.T. 28 APR AT DISCRETION OF 7AF/CC. STRIKE ACFT ARE AUTH TO ENTER HANOI RESTRICTED ZONE FOR PURPOSES OF TEST ONLY.
6. (C) RESULTS OF TEST W/BE REPORTED SOONEST TO SENDER AND ALL ADDRESSEES VIA CLASSIFIED COURIER.
7. (S) UPON EVALUATION OF COMBAT TEST RESULTS, DECISION W/BE RENDERED WHETHER TO PROCEED WITH PHASE TWO (SUSTAINED AERIAL STRIKES) OR PERFORM FURTHER TESTING.
8. (C) FOR NELLIS & CHINA LAKE: FOR THIS PROJECT, USAF AND USN HAVE AGREED THAT TFWC IS ASSIGNED AS LEAD WPNS TEST AGENCY, WITH SUPPORT BY VX-5 AS REQUIRED. DIRECT CONTACT WITH 7AF IS ENCOURAGED FOR DURATION OF CROSSFIRE ZULU. SUPPORTING TEST PROJECTS ARE ASSIGNED PRIORITY 1B BY DIRECTION OF JCS.
9. (U) FOR 7AF/CC: GOOD HUNTING. SECRET
Using a copy of the OPlan to check the referenced paragraphs, Pearly interpreted the message. They'd been authorized to start the test phase of the bridges campaign, to strike the Paul Doumer bridge on a one-time basis, as per General Moss's request.
General Roman, commander of PACAF had personally called the admiral and suggested the weapons load. He looked it up and grimaced. For the initial test the Thuds would be carrying AGM-12 Bullpups, the air-to-ground missiles both General Moss and Colonel Parker had not wanted. General Moss's staff could dictate the tactics to be used to deliver the Bullpups. Moss would likely delegate the formulation of specific tactics to the flying units involved.
As a CYA measure, they'd included the standard executive directive to avoid injuries to civilians and foreign nationals.
The timing window for the air strike would start tomorrow, Wednesday, and would continue through Friday. General Moss would likely opt to strike as soon as possible to minimize any possible effects from the security leak.
The test facilities at Nellis, as well as the weapons specialists at China Lake, would be made available to them. That was good news, because Pearly wanted every possible edge, and he wanted to know more about the smart bomb project the captain from Nellis had told him about. He felt a tingling sensation run along his spine. The campaign was his idea. With the approval from the brass the OPlan had taken a grandiose flavor, but . . . it was still his baby, and he must be mentally prepared for the losses that would surely come.
He carefully replaced the red cover atop the secret message and tried to capture the attention of the WAF admin sergeant who was talking on her telephone.
"Call the general's office and see if you can . . ."
She shook her head. "It's General Moss's secretary on the line, Colonel. He's yelling for you to get up there pronto."
Pearly nodded and absently pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, gathered the message and rose. "I'm on my way."
The WAF staff sergeant hung up her phone. "His secretary says he's definitely not in a pleasant mood."
Pearly nodded absently, thinking about the Bullpup missiles that had been directed in the message. General Moss had said they were the last thing he'd want to use on a big bridge smack in the middle of the Hanoi defenses. He'd personally called the Deputy for Operations at Hickam to try to get them to think differently, but PACAF XO was General Roman's protégé, and like Roman, he was another bomber general, and he had obviously not listened.
Fucking bomber people, Pearly thought as he went out the door and down the hall. He wondered how he'd ever gotten along with them before, when he'd been one of them.
As he hurried up the stairs, he girded himself with mental armor for the discussion with General Moss.
1420 Local—Bach Mai Hospital, Hanoi, DRV
Colonel Xuan Nha
Boredom was Xuan's principal enemy, and to fill his hours, he exercised his mind.
Xuan Nha was a short, barrel-chested man, handsome if one disregarded the sharp sparrow's nose. He was purposeful, educated, and intelligent, and without doubt the most knowledgeable man in the Democratic Republic regarding the employment of sophisticated defenses. He'd been the key figure in the establishment of the highly successful rocket forces.
Yet for the past several weeks, Colonel Xuan Nha had been slowly returning from the brink of death.
His right eye had been exploded from its socket and both eardrums punctured by awful overpressures, and his left arm had been severed at the elbow by a cannon round, all within bewildering seconds during a bombing-and-strafing attack on the rocket control van he'd taken command of. Those, and the fire-charred flesh of his legs and torso, had given him intense pain for the past weeks. The doctors at Bach Mai hospital had not believed he could endure it. His hardy body had proved them wrong. But though he was now healing and a number of bandages had been removed to allow the skin to be exposed to the healing air, the pain, while diminished, remained constant. Those portions of his scorched body exposed to the air felt as if they were crawling with insects. The doctors said that was a part of the healing process. He'd told them he was ready to endure the removal of his cocoon of bandages from his burned torso, but the doctors would not allow it, and each time he moved, he felt as if something in there were tearing. Sometimes blood would seep through a portion of bandage, for there was no skin to keep it from happening.
He waited and played mind games as he slowly healed.
He was a far different man than he'd been only a few months before. Then he'd been confident and sure, knowing how to use just the right mixture of terror and cajolery to get the most from his technical warriors in the People's Army, ready to make any sacrifice for the glory of the party . . . and himself. But he'd changed. Not because of the wounds. Injuries and even death were to be expected in his profession, and he was not a cowardly man. He'd been taught that politics were more deadly to an officer of the Vietnamese People's Army than any enemy.
If he was given the chance to return to his military duties, and he would work relentl
essly to do so, he would never place his trust in anything, not his superiors or subordinates or even his own abilities, without first measuring the political impact.
His wife Li Binh had visited once, but he remembered it only vaguely because of the pain. When he'd become lucid, there had been two visits by Tran Van Ngo, the lieutenant colonel he'd once groomed to take his place. Tran was commandant of Thai Nguyen Area Defenses and a busy man, but he had taken time to visit and whisper the sad state of things since Colonel Wu had been appointed in Xuan Nha's place.
The rocket forces were in utter disarray due to lack of direction, like a group of ships with wildly fluctuating rudders, and radar control of the interceptors was even more dismal.
"What can I do?" Tran Van Ngo had asked.
Xuan Nha had only shaken his head sadly, for he knew no appropriate response.
So the mind games had begun. And during the long periods of idleness, Xuan Nha had thought of the quickest and most efficient ways to repair the networks of defenses. There was little chance he would be able to implement the changes, but he thought of them anyway.
Colonel Nguyen Wu, the ambitious nephew of his wife, was now filling his former position at the head of the radars-and-rocket forces, and until Wu was gone, there would be no chance of his returning, and no chance for the improvements he had in mind.
His communications officer, Lieutenant Quang Hanh, had been wounded at his side in the control van and now recuperated from burns and a mangled leg in a crowded ward not far from Xuan Nha's room. He was scheduled to be released shortly. Each day he dutifully hobbled down the hospital hall to visit and tell him what he'd heard during his family's visits, and from faithful reading of Nham Dan, the party newspaper. Thus Xuan Nha knew a bit of what was happening on the outside, but not nearly enough. He wished Li Binh would visit, for she was a fount of information, but his messages to her went unanswered.
But that hot Tuesday afternoon things were changed, and were never again the same.
He'd once known Quon well, yet he was surprised when the fighter pilot came into his room and stared down at him, a grim expression on his face.
"So the great legend visits," croaked Xuan Nha. His larynx had been damaged, and his voice came out in a rasp. The doctors said it would always be like that.
Quon leaned against the bed. "When can you return to work?"
Xuan Nha grimaced. "It is my stomach and chest. The skin was burned away, so there is nothing holding it all together except scar tissue, and that forms slowly. I will be a long time healing." His doctors said if he healed, but Xuan Nha was an optimist.
Quon eyed the bandages encasing Xuan's torso.
"I can walk," said Xuan Nha. "Not fast, but if I am very careful, I can endure it for a short time. The Americans won that skirmish, Quon."
"The article in Nham Dan said you destroyed a dozen Mee air pirates before they were lucky enough to find you."
"And they say you have destroyed two dozen Mee fighters, but that you are too modest to claim them all."
"Do you doubt the party newspaper?"
"Never," Xuan rasped.
Quon cocked his head inquisitively. "I hoped I might find you ready to return to duty, Xuan Nha. The defenses have suffered greatly since you left us."
Hope fluttered momentarily, then abruptly subsided. "My wife's nephew is in control of all that now," he said finally. "You must speak to him if you wish for improvement."
Quon eyed Xuan Nha. "I would much rather deal with you. Nguyen Wu will be removed from his position, and I would like you to return to duty."
Xuan Nha's heart pumped faster. Quon was well connected with both the general staff and the party. Even the Enlightened One had congratulated him on his patriotism and selfless contributions to the Republic. Could he do it?
"Will you help me, Xuan Nha?"
He pondered, not wishing to speak rashly. This was a political move, and Xuan had been betrayed by party politics. Finally he said, "The doctors say I must stay here for a long time. They worry about infections if I leave."
"Does it concern you that I plan to have Colonel Wu removed from his position?"
Xuan Nha sucked a breath. Although Wu had connections in the party, Quon could easily challenge Wu's authority. But Li Binh was squarely behind her nephew, and he doubted that even Quon could match her power. He was certain he could not match her manipulations.
"I have just come from General Dung's office," Quon said. "He agrees that steps must be taken to improve the defenses. Nguyen Wu must go." Quon related what had happened when the Americans had attacked Hoa Lac and Kep air bases, and then, more haltingly, what had happened to his son.
Xuan Nha expressed his sympathy.
Quon's eyes narrowed bitterly in response, so Xuan Nha steered the conversation to other things. "What about Li Binh?" he asked. "My wife is powerful, Quon, and she supports her nephew totally."
"And you?"
Xuan Nha paused. He wanted to agree with Quon, yet he was fearful of Li Binh's vengeance. He tried to explain. "My wife will not allow harm to come to her nephew. Beware of her, Quon, for she is powerful and her anger can be awesome."
Quon smiled. "Li Binh is in Paris, coordinating a series of meetings with American diplomats."
"Ahhh. I did not know," Xuan Nha said. "We . . . have not been talking recently."
"I believe she talks with your nephew," said Quon, and there was a glint in his eye. "I regret to tell you this, but it is best coming from a fellow warrior. It is widely rumored that your wife and her nephew are sharing more than is respectable."
Xuan Nha felt dismay. He'd had suspicions even before he'd been wounded, but each time they surfaced, he'd rejected them because of what he knew about Nguyen Wu.
Soon after Wu had come to work for Xuan, his driver had told him that Wu enjoyed sex with men. Such behavior was casually accepted among Southeast Asian cultures and not discouraged by field commanders whose men might be without women for extended periods. But Sergeant Ng had told him that Nguyen Wu liked only men, and Xuan had believed him, for periodically the gnarled old sergeant would himself single out a young soldier for his use.
Yet however unlikely, somehow Xuan knew that what Quon said was true.
He paused for a moment to allow the churning in his stomach to subside. "Still," he said, "I cannot return to my office until the burns heal."
"But you will help me?"
He spoke carefully. "I will not stop you." Then Xuan told the fighter pilot about the things he'd been thinking of while he'd lain there, how the network could be reinstituted by establishing regional control centers at Phuc Yen and Kien An, both receiving inputs from the other and the midrange acquisition radars as well, and to coordinate interceptors, AAA and rocket batteries alike. Somewhat like his old Wisdom system, but not as sophisticated. Then he began to list the equipment and personnel they would need.
Quon interrupted. "We cannot allow foreigners to control our forces. Wu said the party would not allow it, and there I believe him."
"Then we will use the Vietnamese pilot controllers we trained at the Wisdom complex. They were preparing to take over when Wisdom was bombed and destroyed."
He realized that Quon only half understood what he was saying. "When you have . . . ah . . . worked things out with my nephew, bring Lieutenant Colonel Tran Van Ngo to me. He is commandant of Thai Nguyen Area Defenses. I will explain it all to him, and he will understand. Tran should be placed in charge."
"Only temporarily, and only if you agree to work closely and provide him with advice. I trust you, Xuan Nha, but I do not trust any other of your rocket people."
"You must move quickly with Wu, before my wife returns from Paris."
"Tomorrow it shall be done. I have the assurance of General Dung. Things are critical, Xuan Nha." Then Quon told him about the intelligence report that warned of a campaign against the bridges, and the Americans' bombing of Kep instead.
"Was the intelligence report about the bridges from a r
eliable source?"
"The best, a source so sensitive that very few know about it."
Xuan Nha remembered being told by Li Binh of it. A Mee journalist relayed secrets provided by an American serviceman assigned to a Saigon headquarters.
Quon continued, "Last week Wu and Colonel Trung prepared to defend the bridges by placing tremendous numbers of rocket-and-artillery batteries around them. Now they are convinced the Americans have changed their minds and that the same defenses should be moved to the air bases. We do not know whom to believe."
Xuan Nha thought hard before answering, remembering first what Li Binh had told him about the reliability of the intelligence source code-named Peacemaker, and then about his knowledge of the Western mind. He motioned vaguely toward his bandaged torso. "I feel it in my chest, Quon. It was a diversion. If they had attacked the big air bases at Phuc Yen or Kien An, it might be different."
Quon looked at him thoughtfully.
"If they cut our supply routes to Hanoi by destroying the key bridges, it will become a critical matter. Now they are trying to get us to move our defenses so they can do it."
"Perhaps," said Quon. He did not appear convinced. "I would hate to be the one to suggest that we keep our defenses at the bridges if they came to bomb Phuc Yen."
"The Mee politicians authorized them to attack the auxiliary air bases only. They are still frightened of bombing airfields with civil aircraft present. Trust me, Quon, for I've grown to know how they think. Advise Colonel Trung and General Luc that the guns must remain around the bridges. Have them bring even more. If the Mee attack on the first bridge is very costly and unsuccessful, they will think twice before continuing such a campaign. It would be foolhardy for them to continue to attack the bridges in the face of a thousand guns."
"We heard through our source that they may use air-to-ground guided rockets."
"Even better!" exclaimed Xuan. "The Mee must fly predictable paths to succeed with their guided rockets, which will be perfect for our gunners." He nodded, gaining enthusiasm. "Have them keep the artillery at the bridges. Protect other targets with rocket batteries and interceptors until the Mee attack the first bridge. If you can keep them from being successful on the first one, you will stop the campaign. The Mee politicians will force them to stop."
