Rolling Thunder
Page 44
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
1830 Hours Local, 21 December 1966
MACSOG Lounge
Saigon, Republic of Vietnam
Wolf Lochert sat with Al Charles in the MACSOG lounge drinking Bamuiba.
"No, Al, regardless of what you say, I blew it. I don't know why, but I blew it." The Wolf's body looked ravished and twenty pounds lighter. His right hand was tightly bandaged and in a sling. His tan was long faded and his skin was pallid and wrinkled. His eyes flicked at the slightest sound and his mouth twitched.
Al Charles looked at him with great compassion in his black eyes. "Ah Wolf, take it easy. You said yourself that pilot was already dead. Menuez and the others could have been greased anyplace. You got back alive."
"Hah," Wolf barked. "Not without Buey Dan. He saved my life. I passed out, he broke the ambush and called the Hornets in to get us extracted. I owe him a lot. Lost my lucky knife, though."
"Wolf," Al Charles said, his mahogany face crinkled in thought, "you have any, ah, misgivings about that guy?"
"Misgivings? What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean, do you completely trust him? He used to be Viet Minh at one time, you know."
"Yeah, I know that. He converted a long time ago. He's Catholic, you know. We're going to Christmas Mass together next Sunday at the cathedral on JFK Square. Says he wants to show me something."
"Wolf, I'm afraid you won't make that Mass."
"No? How's that?"
Charles dug into a folder at the side of his chair. "I got a TWX from DA. You're to report to some general in the Pentagon. It's maybe kind of a highly classified rescue planning group. According to this, they want a firsthand account of your story. I've got you a seat on a MAC flight to LA. You leave Friday morning, the 23rd." He stood up. "Oh yeah, one more thing." He flipped to Wolf a small piece of blue cardboard with two silver oak leafs pinned to it.
"Merry Christmas, Colonel."
0745 Hours Local, 23 December 1966
Camp Alpha Processing Center
Tan Son Nhut Air Base, Republic of Vietnam