by Geoff Wolak
‘What if that’s not the case..?’
‘Then … the missiles were meant to sink a carrier, the folks back home soon to be wanting revenge, the hawks using that to start a small war some place.’
‘They’d have to be cold and callus to think like that.’
‘And at the start off the Vietnam war..?’
He sighed out. ‘Yes, they lied, exaggerated, even bombed our own people to start the war.’
‘And so they could again. With a carrier sunk.’
‘FARC would get the blame, so … why a war here? Colombia sides with us, they want the FARC gone.’
‘Maybe a war on drugs, not on the FARC. Drugs are at the centre of this, drugs and money. A war against the cartels would see those cartels diminished, and when the dust settles the conspirators get their people in place, and grab the pipeline trade in drugs. It’s worth nine billion a year, a tempting figure.’
‘Very tempting. So why are we sat here?’
‘More TV minutes, which helps with recruitment, and it benefits the military – yours and mine. Then, to diminish the FARC, because whatever their motivation they handled missiles and fired them.
‘Also, to make a nice target for them to attack, and maybe to show their hand. But mostly, it’s for me to catch some foot soldiers and get the man above them, then the man above him till I get the spider at the centre of the web.’
‘You’re always collecting phones and IDs, a good policy, yes. I’m learning from you. So … we keep getting the foot soldiers till we have a line on the managerial types in a shirts and ties.’
‘Yes, sir, and we’re making progress.’
‘What will they throw at us next?’
‘Well, sir, I think we can safely say that they saw CNN and the F18 taking off, so they want this strip torn up.’
‘They know where we are now,’ he realised with a sigh. ‘Everyone in the world knows where we are now. So, mortars and rockets to keep us awake.’
‘They don’t have anything heavy to use against us, fortunately, and we’re spread out and dug in. So … I have no idea what they try next.’
The night passed quietly, men still damp, the wind fresh and cool, and the dawn brought a thick mist. At 5am I could see the issue - I shone a torch and created a halo effect, and in this mist the enemy could move an army into place and we’d not see them till they were close.
Moran called as I stood staring into the grey blanket around us. ‘We got company.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Not far from where the mortars were, so there’s a track south somewhere.’
‘What can you see?’
‘Can’t see fuck all, but the OP in the valley has movement, a line of men heading for you.’
‘Let the column pass, estimate numbers and call me back, then get behind them to get the stragglers. And phones and IDs.’
I stepped to the radio operator on duty, who now looked cold and miserable in his damp poncho. ‘Contact the airfield and the ship, standby helo casevac in one hour, but advise them of the mist here. We have a column coming up from the south. Oh, the Marines had OPs set-up, yes?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Recall them straight away, back to their trenches – if they can find them.’
I walked down to the medics, finding one on guard, also wrapped up in a poncho. ‘We’ll have company in an hour, and need of some medics. So that’s your timescale to wake them and to get the coffee down.’
‘Right, sir.’
I walked down to Swifty, asking men where his trench was. The Wolf he shared a trench with nudged him awake.
Swifty stood tall and peered out, rubbing his face. ‘Is that fog?’
‘Yep, and they’re moving in under it. I want all your British and American veteran Wolves ready to go. You rested?’
‘Yeah, got down at midnight.’
‘You have twenty minutes to get a brew on before you move out. Wake them all then meet me at the command post.’
I walked back up along the side of the strip, waking Haines, his sergeant on stag - and also looking cold and miserable. Haines eased out of his hole.
‘Get a brew on, and an hour from now we’ll have Charlie on the wire. Men will move out to intercept them, but some of the FARC might sneak in. Get your men up, brew on ready, but you have at least an hour.’
Next, I cut across the strip to Robby as he stood in his trench. ‘You got early stag?’ I asked as I knelt.
‘Slept early and just woke.’
‘Get them all awake, brew on, we’ll have Charlie on the wire in an hour.’
‘Using this fog.’
‘Yep.’
I walked along to the SAS, and to Taggard’s large trench.
A man lifted his face. ‘Right, Boss.’
‘Wake everyone, brew on, company is coming, one hour.’
My final call was Running Bear, a man on stag that turned to see who I was. ‘Wake them all, get some coffee down you, company is coming, but they’ll take an hour to get here.’
‘What direction, sir?
‘Right in front of you, coming up from the south.’
‘Can’t see squat, sir.’
‘Then listen and shoot.’
Back at the command post I got a brew on, a coffee, waking Rocko when it was ready. I handed him a chocolate bar, Salome wrapped up in her poncho, Billy snoring. ‘Get with it, we got company.’
Rocko sipped the coffee, and peered out. ‘Is that … fog?’
‘Mist, yes. They’re walking in slow from the south, Moran behind them.’
After his chocolate and coffee he bent and stretched before diligently checking his rifle, soon walking into the fog for a pee. When he came back he reported, ‘Can’t hear them yet. And stupid of them to move around in this fog, they’ll end up shooting each other. If they were smart, they’d use this fog to get position, then wait.’
‘Maybe they are getting smarter,’ I told him. ‘Nothing else has worked for them.’
I woke Morgen, the Colonel waking since they were side by side. Morgen was fresh and awake in minutes, and on the radio, the Marines on nearby hills warned. I got another brew on and woke Billy, the drink sipped by a blind man, his eyes firmly closed.
‘I smell coffee,’ came from within Salome’s poncho.
‘We got the game on. Thirty minutes,’ I told her.
She eased up and grabbed Billy’s mug and took two sips, handing it back to the blind man.
Outside, I met the Colonel after he had taken a piss. ‘You a morning person, sir?’
‘Have to be in the Marines. But the trench needs widening, so that’s a task for today, that and getting the damn mud out. They using the mist?’
‘Yes, sir.’
My phone trilled. ‘It’s Moran, and there’s hundreds of them.’
‘Be a proper fight then, but don’t engage, you have a small team. If the fog lifts, you can put the snipers up high. And when the rabble have passed you, send our new regulars south to find the trucks they used. Could be a team leader at the trucks, so they kill him and get his phone and ID, then they torch the trucks.’
‘They go alone?’
‘There’s eight of them.’
‘I mean, without one of us.’
‘Have Rizzo lead them. But have him double-time back to you if you’re up against a good team.’
‘They seem switched on, this FARC company, no talking, all moving quietly.’
‘They missed you, so they’re not that good.’
‘They missed Rizzo snoring, yes.’
Phone down, I stared into the mist, and it started to get lighter in colour as I stepped to Haines and his sergeant. ‘Sergeant, go around, quietly stand-to all men, and make sure all team leaders are on my frequency. Make sure someone protects the medics, task the Wolf captain.’
He rushed off north.
A minute later came, ‘Wolf Captain for Wilco, we on?’
‘We’re on.’
Swifty came in
with his large team. ‘What we doing?’
‘Rocko, you want a leg stretch?’
‘Fuck aye, been sat around too long.’
‘Rocko, you lead them. Down the slope here, all nice and slow and quiet. You go southeast, and in your mind picture the hill opposite the Marines east of us here.
‘You go up that hill twenty yards to get some height, then you move south say five hundred yards – so you’re on the left side of the valley, then get a good spot to aim into the valley, spread them along in pairs, ten yards apart.
‘And expect this mist to rise without warning when it warms up. Go.’
They traipsed past me, a sizeable force, almost fifty men. I just hoped they wouldn’t meet an equal force coming the other way in the valley floor, not in this mist.
‘Taggard for Wilco, you on?’
‘We’re on, get ready.’
The Colonel stepped to me. ‘What are we expecting here?’
‘They’re using the fog, sir, and maybe coming in from several directions, which is smart, but also dumb in a way because they can’t see us and shoot at us. Best bet for them would be to hide and wait till nightfall maybe.’
‘You have men out there?’
‘Yes, sir, and they report two hundred FARC sneaking in, a long line.’
‘Can’t bomb them in this weather,’ he noted.
‘The mist will lift, and then we’ll have the advantage, sir. The key element here is that I have a team heading for the FARC trucks. Hopefully, a man in a shirt and tie sat there waiting.’
‘A key player.’
‘A captain, but he may have a phone line to the man above him.’
‘Follow it up the chain, yes. I ran a Marines field intel team, but after this I’m re-writing the damn book.’
‘Soldiers have a sergeant, and he has a captain, and he reports to a major, and the major reports to the colonel. And if you shoot the colonel the whole chain of command collapses. So keep your head down, sir.’
‘Ha, you’re in charge here.’
‘Take position, sir, listen out.’
He got into a trench with Morgen and aimed out.
‘Running Bear for Wilco.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘We got the game on?’
‘Use your ears and tell me.’
‘All quiet for now.’
‘It won’t stay that way, this is desirable real estate.’
My phone trilled. ‘It’s Mitch, and Moran called and warned us, and now we can hear movement, but they’re being stealthy.’
‘Don’t engage till the mist lifts, then snipe down, get the stragglers. You have an estimate of numbers?’
‘Greenie says a company of men.’
‘Stay alert, no risks.’
I stepped to the Colonel. ‘We now have four hundred men moving in.’
‘Be a lively fight then.’
‘Be a long day,’ I told him. I transmitted, ‘Robby, you on?’
‘Here.’
‘Robby, Major Taggard, we have two hundred men coming up the valley below you. Get ready, it might get nasty.’ I turned to Morgen. ‘Warn your Marines, large force sneaking in.’
He got on the radio.
I called the number for Colonel Mathews and left a sitrep, a similar sitrep for the George Washington.
Half an hour later, and Swifty called me. ‘We’re in position, no movement yet.’
‘There’re two hundred men in that valley, same number again the next valley over. No heroics.’
‘We’d need to pigging see them first.’
‘Watch your rear.’
When my phone trilled it was Admiral Mulloy. ‘Major, you surrounded?’
‘We’re not in danger here, sir, other than the danger of small-arms accidents. The mist is thick, can’t see fuck all, us or them. They may try and sneak right up, or get position and wait. This will be drawn out.’
‘My people say the mist is only below a thousand feet, we could bomb.’
‘I have men in hidden OPs, sir, so we need to be careful here, but a target of opportunity may show up.’
‘We have helos ready, medics.’
‘If they tried to land they’d kill themselves in this mist, sir, and we have medics here, so for now we can tough it out.’
‘We’re standing by, Major.’
‘You an early riser, sir?’
‘6am is my usual time, to bed early, so I’m alert and with it. You rise early…’
‘From the start of my military career, sir. I went to bed just before midnight, and woke at 5am whether I wanted to or not.’
‘Some people are like that, yes. I have a commander here, good man, but terrible for the first hour. But unlike me he’s sharp at midnight when my eyes are failing me.’
‘I have a sergeant who’s slept through many attacks, but he’s good when he gets going.’
He laughed. ‘I’d wake, I’m a light sleeper.’
‘What was on the news last night, sir?’
‘My ship, my F18, that’s what. I had jealous calls from far and wide and I gloated a great deal.’
Now it was my turn to laugh. ‘Milk it, sir, because such events come around once every ten years.’
‘Good luck, Major, talk soon no doubt.’
Back at my command post they were supping tea, and waiting ready. I walked past the command post and listened, not hearing movement down the hill. I moved along to Running Bear, still no sounds as I peered into the mist, the colour changing gradually.
‘Wilco for Taggard, send me four men.’
‘Be with you soon.’
I heard the men behind me after a minute, and their whispered questions.
‘Where the fuck are you?’
‘Keep coming.’
Their outlines appeared.
‘Right, you walk up and down this south side, make a note of the American position here, you use your ears. Don’t go down the slope.’
They stepped slowly to the west.
‘Running Bear, make sure you don’t shoot them.’
‘I’ll ask them: who won the world cup in 1966?’
‘Who did win it?’ one of his men asked.
‘Oh my god, we have an infiltrator,’ Running Bear noted. ‘Shoot him!’
My phone trilled. ‘It’s Swifty, we hear something, sounds higher up through, across the valley.’
‘OK, standby.’
I stood with Running Bear, and we listened carefully as we peered into the mist, a visibility of twenty yards and improving. Ten minutes later the dull blasts registered.
‘What are those?’ Running Bear wondered. ‘Too small for mortars.’
‘Not grenades, so … maybe small diameter mortars. They lugged them.’
A cackle of smalls arm fire reached us.
My phone trilled. ‘It’s Swifty, who’s in contact?’
‘No one here, not Mitch either, and he’s two miles away. What direction?’
‘Across the valley from us, in front of you.’
‘No one there, none of us.’
‘So who they shooting at?’
‘I’ll call Mitch.’ I hit the numbers. ‘Mitch, you in contact?’
‘No, but we can hear mortars and small arms, north of us.’
‘Stay hidden.’ Phone away, I turned to Running Bear, and sighed loudly. ‘Don’t laugh.’
‘They’re not…’
‘They are.’
He bent over laughing.
‘Look, you little shit, there’s some young lieutenant over there doing his best in the fog.’
The SAS team walked up. ‘What’s so funny?’
I transmitted, ‘All teams, get a brew on, the FARC are assaulting the wrong hill.’
The SAS lads laughed hysterically as they walked off, and I returned to the command post.
‘Cease fire, tea break!’ came over the radio.
Salome was stood there. ‘What are these stupid men doing?’ She meant the SAS.
‘Ladies and gentlem
en,’ I loudly called. ‘Get a brew on, because the FARC are assaulting the hill across the valley.’
‘But … there’s no one there?’ Morgen puzzled.
‘In this mist, would you get the right fucking hill?’ I sat and got a brew on, Russian jokes being shouted out through the dark from Sasha and his team.
The Colonel noted, ‘Well this is fucking embarrassing, this is not going in my memoirs. We calling a halt till they figure the right damn hill or what? Major Morgen, send them a note, tell them where we are.’
I called ship. ‘Major Wilco for Admiral Mulloy.’
After ten seconds came, ‘Mulloy here.’
‘Sir, don’t laugh, and … hide this from the records, but as we speak the FARC are keenly attacking the wrong hill.’
‘The wrong hill? What the hell is wrong with them? And yes, we’ll keep it from the media, makes the FARC look stupid. Always talk up your enemy.’
‘I’ll update you later, sir. Wilco out.’
I called Swifty. ‘Listen, don’t laugh, but … they’re attacking the wrong hill.’
He laughed, and I could hear Rocko in the background.
‘Wait for them to sort it out.’
I sat, Billy cursing long and loud. It seemed he was going to charge some of the NCOs over there. And they had woken him early.
The distant echoing blasts continued, the cackle of small arms fire reaching us. A sandbag near us was hit.
‘They aiming at us?’ the Colonel asked.
‘No, sir, but firing wildly. Us to them is about a thousand yards.’
‘If we had mortars we could hit them.’
‘Waste of mortars, sir, it’s a big old area.’
‘So what now?’
‘We wait till they realise their mistake.’
‘They might go home!’
‘I have men ready to ambush them if they do.’
Twenty minutes later it fell quiet.
‘They realise now,’ the Colonel noted. ‘Hope they have a compass and a damn map.’
My phone trilled, Rizzo. ‘We shot up the men at the trucks, and the main man had a phone.’
‘Make a note of this number.’ I read it out from memory. ‘Call and say who you are, be polite, ask for it to be traced quickly. Then burn the trucks.’
