by John Ringo
I was in a meeting on "potential taskers" that had one of the main generals sitting in it and at one point when they were discussing "communication strategy taskers" I just stood up.
"This is bullshit. And it's got to stop."
"You have a problem with the mission, Bandit Six?" the general asked. He was sort of stern but I could see he was also alarmed. Everyone assumed I was totally going along with "information management." If I wasn't willing to, the whole plan was in the shitter.
"No, sir. I'm up with the mission. My problem is that for the last three critical days I've been getting briefings more or less at random, most of which have been useless and a waste of everyone's time. It's like every department in the Army got a secret message there was going to be a Centurions broadcast and wants to get its two cents in. And, thus far, none of the meetings have been about what I suggest much less what I'm going to need. And those meetings are going to take a long time and there are going to have to be decisions made. And not by committee, General. And may I remind everyone that in less than two weeks my battalion, which is going to be somewhat necessary to this whole jug-fuck, is up for ARTEP. And if it fails said ARTEP, because for example its commander has been sitting in meetings for two weeks, it's not going to be combat certified, rendering all of this moot."
"It's not going to fail the ARTEP," the general said.
"We've been working hard, sir, but . . ."
"No," the general said. "Listen to me. It Will Not Fail The ARTEP. If I have to personally pencil in all the results. Besides, it's a good unit. It will do fine. On that you're just suffering from pre-ARTEP jitters, which is normal. You're a new battalion commander. Had them myself. Your unit is good and will pass ARTEP. If it doesn't, It Will Pass ARTEP. That's been decided at a much higher level than this. Okay, who or what do you need for these meetings?"
"I need . . ." I said then paused. "I'm going to need someone senior from PIO. Someone with a brain and preferably real media experience if that exists. Pretty quickly I'm going to need geeks. Since I don't talk geek, I'm going to need translators from my unit, two sergeants from Bravo. They're still there. I stopped by and said hello already. I'm going to need overhead specialists. I'm going to need Graham and the crew if I can get them. They can come in late. I have an op-plan for this. It's not the op-plan that's been presented. The op-plan presented, especially the 'suggestions' from PIO, will not work. My op-plan will work. Oh, and I need someone senior enough in each of the meetings that require coordination with other departments that when I say 'this is what I need' the person can say 'do it' and it gets done. And eventually I'm going to need a lot of savvy and devoted-to-the-concept eyeballs. Those can't come from my unit and should probably all be geeks. Intel geeks might work. Say an intel battalion. Maybe a DIA unit."
"How short can you make an operational outline?" the general asked.
"Depends on if people are going to joggle my elbow."
"1700. My office. Verbal only. Meeting, and all meetings on this matter for the rest of the day, adjourned."
My op-plan was simple in concept and really complicated in detail. A simple Centurions broadcast would not work. The media was going to be all over the op like shit on stink. We were going to have to not only do a normal Centurions show but on top of it, woven into it, deconstruct most or all incidents of "spin."
Which meant we were going to have to cover the media like stink.
Every photograph from every stringer was going to have to be caught by an Army team who would find the context the stringer was, intentionally or unintentionally, missing. Every broadcast of every news network was going to have to have another camera on it, showing what the cameras were not reporting. When it was impossible to really show that, we were going to have to "craft" imagery that got into the details.
And we were going to have to turn a one-hour show out in nearly real time. Preferably every evening the op was going on. Graphic imagery, script, the thematic elements and step all over the news media's reporting. Since most people still got their news between 5PM and 7PM, and that was when all the really spun news was going to hit the airwaves, we were going to have to do a show while they were spinning. Then show the counter spin. Show the reality they were missing or essentially falsifying.
Waiting until the next day, waiting until the next week, wasn't going to cut it. We had to hit people when they were still gathering their opinions about what they'd seen on the news.
"That's impossible," were the first words out of the mouth of the PIO general in the meeting.
"No, sir," I replied. "Taking Istanbul with a Stryker company was impossible. This will just be very very difficult."
And it was.
So while I was working on all the shit involved in getting combat certified, I was also working on getting that operation ready. And it was a massive fucking exercise. Worse, really, than getting through the ARTEP which, the general was right, was not as hard as I'd expected. I had very good subordinates. Thank God. And the previous commander.
After our inspection by the IG, another hair tearer while I'm simultaneously juggling the "secret" side of what we're going to do, we got our, secret again, orders for our upcoming operation. Finally, I could get the battalion staff working on that op, but I still didn't have them in the loop on the Centurions side.
But it was obvious I was working something else. Most battalion commanders don't go through pre-ARTEP and then ARTEP and ORSE without contributing much but "Uh, huh. Sounds good. Great job. Keep up the good work." Delegation was one thing, this was crazy. They input something. I just didn't have the time.
I finally got the go-ahead to bring the battalion staff in on "Operation New Centurions." And they looked at me like I had two heads. I gave them background. Then I gave them more background. Then I tried to explain what a massive fucking headache it was going to be. And I also explained that while the operation was going on, I was going to be juggling both sides.
We were still waiting for our "combat certification" when the PIO guys started filtering in. They were gathering "background" on people. It quickly became evident that the Centurions thing was starting up again. Sergeants pointed out that talking about it was a bad thing.
The last remaining problem was, we didn't have an outlet. We could release it on the Web but that would only hit a fraction of the available households.
The Army cut a deal with the networks. One broadcast network would get a new Centurions show for free. Each night, 8PM Central, guaranteed broadcast was all that was required. Resale rights would be minimal for cable networks and one cable TV news company could get it for free. But it had to air, guaranteed, without editing. That was the only proviso.
The networks knew they were looking at something radioactive. They also knew that Centurions meant vast numbers of viewers glued to the TV.
In the end the network execs went for the money. They couldn't pass up new Centurions shows.
Fox got the cable news rights. ABC, again, got the broadcast rights. Four or five other minor networks picked it up as well.
The news hit the Internet before we were even starting to move out. Actually, while negotiations were still going on with the networks. From the way it was sounding, it was coming from our side. Hit the conservative blogs first. I figured it was someone in the battalion. I didn't care. It was creating "buzz."
But what the operation was was still secret. When we moved out, we moved out at night and spread out our units so we could be going anywhere.
Three days later, all the units were assembling in a state park near Lansing.
Chapter Five
I Am Your Centurion
"Rubble" was our first episode.
We moved out from our assembly areas at dawn. It had been determined that for reasons of "reduction of collateral damage" we should do most of our fighting during the day. Also, because that way we were able to "craft the image."
There were reporters on scene by the time we hit the edge of Detroit. They
'd been told we were coming and punched out crews immediately. The command track I was using had, besides all the usual shit, four TVs in it tuned to every major network. We had the "regular" networks split and one for Fox and one for CNN. Graham had done one bit for us then faded out. He was actually on the "other side" of this war.
There were actually reporters "embedded" with the Caliphate forces to show the "truth" of this "unconscionable use of force" against "peaceful Muslims" who were being "oppressed" for "voluntarily choosing" an "alternative lifestyle" to the "Fundamentalist Christian orthodoxy." Graham wasn't with those idiots, but he was still on the other side of the propaganda war.
I didn't spot the shot. But one of our "savvy eyes" did. CNN had broadcast a touching piece while we were still on the outskirts of Detroit about the "horrific collateral damage" of our "military assault." As far as I knew, nobody had fired a shot, yet, and there was a female CNN reporter standing in front of a pile of rubble we had presumably made.
And right behind it came the "alternative view" from an Army videography team. The guys on the team had the right idea. They stayed on the reporter though most of her bit then zoomed in, so you could still see the reporter's shoulder out of focus, on some rebar sticking out of this rubble we had, presumably, made that day. It was rusted.
"Get me all the information we can about that building," I snapped. "I need to know when it fell down and why."
Sure enough, it was a lead-in shot for most of the evening news shows. And they were all over us like stink. We were barely fighting and they already wanted us to surrender.
Hell, no. I haven't yet begun to fight. Either war.
"Rubble" talked about how "Caliph Ali" had been tearing down buildings to build a mosque. The "Martyrs of the Great Jihad of September 11th Mosque." We had overhead of "people" still working on it (more on that later) even as we did our approach. Also dated satellite imagery showing that particular building standing, then being pulled down. Nearly a year before.
We discussed the basis of Islam and, notably, the way that the Koran talked about slaves. Because we already knew where we were going with the overall story.
We took the outskirts of the area "Caliph Ali" held with fairly light fighting and about no casualties. We put out sniper teams to counter their sniper teams. And we bunked down for the night.
Normally, the U.S. Army fights at night. We've learned to own it. But we wanted the news media to get good video. So we could hammer them with it.
Two-front war. The main front was taking down Ali. The second front was showing the media we could fight that war, too. I'm not even sure they shouldn't be reversed.
Second day was "Collateral."
The main shot for that was a shot of one of the Mongrels' Abrams taking out a building. And the line of dead bodies, females and kids, that were outside the building. Clearly dead because of those evil U.S. Forces since nobody else was shooting, right?
Another shot from CNN, broadcast all over the place as we expected. It was the most newsworthy shot of the day and we were pretty good at figuring out which would be the lead-in story for the news at that point.
We showed the heavy weapons emplacement in the building. And had Predator video of the women and children being shot, by Caliphate forces, as they tried to get out of the way of the battle.
The Caliphate was using human shields all over the place. We showed just how very hard it was to avoid collateral damage. We had video of soldiers taking fire and casualties and not returning it until they could target the actual fighters. Also of kids being used as spotters.
Body slammed them again.
The third was "Tangled."
The shot for that day was an Abrams with a plow ripping down a building. Urban renewal indeed.
The Caliphate had laced their penultimate defenses with IEDs. Most of them anti-personnel.
We had one, unfortunate, shot of a civilian trying to escape who ran into one and got blown to rags. Sniper overwatch and we were gathering everything in realtime.
We had graphics of how they were laid out and how we took them out, mostly by going through buildings.
Of course, we were also showing the Caliphate how we were coming, but I didn't really care.
We were picking up lots of video of some horrific stuff that we weren't showing. That was for the last segment.
The last day we did start out before dawn. I took the Bandits, the Scouts and the Mongrels on a sweep to the east.
While the main force of the battalion, and most of the media, were concentrating on the main fighting, we swept around in our standard flanking maneuver. There were defenders in that area but they weren't numerous. Also IEDs but we had those licked.
We breached their final defenses and shoved, hard, for the central command post.
Why?
Hostages.
The "Caliph" had gathered many of the "dhimi" (cover that in a bit) as well as all of his slaves around him. Well, most of them were packed into the roads that the battalion was slowly and with much noise and commotion grinding forward on.
They were forced to stay in place with chains on their legs as well as guards behind them with machine guns.
We swept in behind them. And we got the guys with machine guns, mostly, before they could open fire. At which point I told the battalion to speed the fuck up and watch out for civilians. And handle casualties.
The "Caliph" had taken refuge in a former library that was, for the time being, the most palacious building he could find. It was, he considered, heavily defended. And he, again, had hostages.
I had the Mongrels take out the forward defenses and then the Bandits unloaded and started raising all kinds of hell.
Our intel was that his "throne room" was in an upper lobby. I had Third Herd assault the front while the rest of us went around the side and up the fire stairs.
The "Caliph" was on his "throne" (a canopy bed) surrounded by his harem, not one of which was over sixteen. He had his "martyr guards" oriented to take Third under fire.
When we came out of the stacks, everybody was looking towards the main stairs.
Second Platoon lit them up. They want their 72 virgins, we'll make that easy for them.
Which left the caliph surrounded by terrified teenage girls and holding a naked ten-year-old up as a human shield.
I was a commander. I didn't shoot people if I could avoid it. That's what snipers are for.
I had Second's sniper shoot him in the elbow. It was nice and exposed.
Then I shot him.
And, yes, he appeared unarmed. But I couldn't be sure. He was still moving and thus "a potential threat to myself and noncombatants."
So I shot him several times. Some of the shots at point blank range.
Sue me.
That night we broadcast "Chains."
Two hours, by previous negotiation, it laid out what had really been happening in the "kindly" Islamic Caliphate of the 9/11 Martyrs.
Mullah Ali had established true Shariah. There were three classes of people. The Muslims, "dhimi" and slaves. Dhimi were any people who refused to renounce Christianity or Judaism but were able to successfully contribute to the Caliphate's brutal "tax regime."
If you could not contribute, you were made into a slave. Sometimes. Actually, what usually happened was that you sold a member of your family. Usually a pretty daughter; they brought the most money. Or you'd lose your business and eventually become a slave.
It was, in fact, very much on the normal lines of a caliphate.
The only added fillip is that each week every dhimi household was paraded before the "faithful" and forced to undergo a ritual auto de fe in which they were at first threatened with death and then "reprieved" if they paid their taxes.
Dhimi females were, by law, not to be veiled. They had to wear the "hijab," the headscarf, which is a sign of ownership by the way, but they could not wear veils.
At the weekly auto de fe, females ranging as young as ten were pulled out of the
dhimi households and "used" for the pleasure of the caliph and his "generals."
Sometimes they were used publicly while the parents and husbands were forced to watch.
Rape is a method of control. It is an exercise in naked power. It was used as such to ensure that things in the Caliphate were "peaceful" and "ordered."
Then there were the slaves. The slaves were dhimi who could not pay their taxes. They did the majority of the labor on building the mosque, as well as the combat emplacements. Chained in long lines, the shackles on their legs were muffler clamps mostly, they were as ragged and emaciated as death camp survivors.
Given all that, you'd think that anyone would want to become a Muslim, right?
Only "persons of color" were permitted to "submit to Allah."
Like I said, he'd have made MLK a racist.
The news media, by the day of the final assault, was trying to change its tune. Why?
People had stopped watching anything but The New Centurions. They knew they would get their news as facts, not spin. Not a picture of something and a whining bitch talking about how soldiers, who were incredibly well regarded by then, had been killing innocent women and children but what was actually happening.
There's no point in watching a 24-hour news cycle if all the "news" is wrong.
People were turning off TVs until Centurions came on.
By day four, the news media was getting the hint. It was taking a clue-bat, but they knew that whatever they showed that night, we were going to deconstruct and destroy them with.
"Chains," we actually had a hard time. But CNN could be counted on to toe the party line and they had a shot of dead women and children lying in a roadway.
They'd been chained up to stop our advance. They couldn't run and they couldn't hide. They were shot in the back by "soldiers" of the Caliphate when Farmer's Freaks breached the perimeter. And the "soldiers" died seconds later, courtesy of two fast acting TCs and the World War One era Ma Deuce, thereby saving hundreds of lives.
CNN showed the bodies, from the hips up.
They didn't show the chains.
