The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE.

by D. B. Silvis

  Lieutenant Larry Wheeler

  Connor Boyle’s parents were notified their only son had been “Killed in Action”. Killian, not being assigned to any military unit as he was an independent civilian SERE instructor, was free to leave Vietnam at any time. He was now ready to leave, and wanted to escort Connor’s body back home.

  In 1950, the United States began a policy of “concurrent return”, which called for the flying of the bodies of fallen troops back to the U.S. as quickly as possible. The Air Mobility Command was designated as the nation’s pallbearers, ferrying the flag-draped remains in metallic transfer cases to Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. They didn’t have special crews who were assigned specifically to bring out the nation’s dead. When Killian learned of this, he asked to be able to take Staff Sergeant Connor Boyle’s personal effects and be part of the crew who would escort his body home. It was known as the ‘Angel Flight’ bringing home our fallen soldiers. Those in command at Air Mobility welcomed his offer to travel as part of the crew to accompany Connor and the bodies of five other soldiers, who had lost their lives in Vietnam.

  Early the next morning Killian said goodbye to Lieutenant Wheeler, Sergeant Glun and the Montagnard soldiers. Then he, the bodies of Connor and the lieutenant who had been the pilot of the Bird Dog were flown in a CH-21 helicopter to Saigon. There Killian met a Tech. Sergeant, who was the loadmaster, and the other crew members designated to serve as the nation’s pallbearers. They loaded six metallic cases into a cargo plane and departed for the long flight from Saigon to Dover, Delaware. The bringing out of the dead was one of the most emotionally taxing missions for the crew members, who spent hours traveling with the flag-draped remains.

  Throughout the flight Killian found himself staring at the metallic cases. He thought about what he had been taught regarding the flag-draped coffins and pictured a military burial ceremony.

  The twenty-one gun salute, which stands for the sum of the numbers in the year 1776. Then there’s the folding of the American flag thirteen times. The first fold is a symbol of life. The second fold is a symbol of the belief in eternal life. The third fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing the ranks, who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of the country to attain peace throughout the world. The fourth fold represents the weaker nature, for as Americans citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war for His divine guidance. The fifth fold is a tribute to the country, for the words of Steven Decatur, “Our Country, in dealing with other countries may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong.” The sixth fold is for where people’s hearts lie. It is with their heart that they pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and the Republic for which it stands, one nation Under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all. The seventh fold is a tribute to its Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that they protect their country and their flag against all enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of their republic. The eighth fold is a tribute to the one who entered the valley of the shadow of death, that we might see the light of day. The ninth fold is a tribute to womanhood, and mothers. For it has been through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and woman who have made this country great has been molded. The tenth fold is a tribute to the father, for he too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of their country since they were first born. The eleventh fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon and glorifies in the Hebrew’s eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The twelfth fold represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the Christian’s eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit. The thirteenth fold, or when the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding them of their Nation’s motto, ‘In God We Trust.’

  Killian looked at each of the flag-draped coffins and wondered about each dead soldier in turn.

  How old was he? What was his life like before Vietnam? Was he married? Did he have children? Are his parents alive? Where was he from? Did he live in the country or was he a big city boy?

  Those and other questions kept racing through Killian’s mind. Then his attention settled on the flag-draped case of his friend Connor Boyle. He knew a few things about Connor. After his friend’s parents had been notified, Killian called them. It had been a difficult thing to do, but he had felt it was necessary. He wanted to introduce himself as Connor’s friend. He wanted to let them know he was going to be accompanying the body back to the Dover Air Force Base. He had also wanted to know more about his dead friend.

  Connor’s parents had, of course, been distressed. However, they had been glad to hear from one of their son’s friends, and to learn he’d be accompanying Connor’s body back home. Killian learned his friend had never married. He had an older sister, who lived in Colorado with her husband and two small girls. Connor’s dad told Killian his son had been a good athlete in high school and had been an avid Boston Red Sox fan. Connor joined the military after giving college a six-month try, but that life hadn’t been to his liking. He also told Killian his son had been proud to have made Staff Sergeant and be part of the Forward Air Control. Connor’s mother had added that her son had mentioned Killian in his last letter.

  Tears came to Killian’s eyes as he thought of that conversation and of his dead friend. He closed his eyes; tears ran down his cheeks and into his thick red beard. At last, he fell asleep.

  Hours later, the cargo plane landed at Dover Air Force Base and taxied up to a long, low building with broad stretches of tinted glass. The building was surrounded by parking spaces. Killian thought it looked like a big warehouse, not a place where fallen soldiers were brought for processing before being sent to their home town.

  There were quite a few family members in the building awaiting the arrival of their son, husband, dad or brother. After the six cases were unloaded into the building, Killian met Connor’s parents. His mother was a wisp of a woman with a gentle smile, who exuded friendliness. When Killian shook hands with Connor’s dad, he grinned, as he realized Connor, had been the spitting image of his father. As he handed them Connor’s personal effects, he could see they were doing the best they could to hold back their emotions. He sat with them during the short ceremony for the six dead soldiers. Then Connor’s dad left for a few minutes to meet with the people at the Mobility Command to make arrangements for his son’s body to be taken to their home town of Boston, to be buried.

  Killian and Mrs. Boyle spent those few minutes in conversation. She wanted to know about her son’s last days. Killian told her about some of the good times they’d had, though not everything. When Connor’s dad returned, they wanted to know about the day their son was killed. Killian told them the story almost exactly as it happened. The only part he changed was that he let them believe it was Lieutenant Wheeler and his troop who had caught and killed the North Vietnamese soldiers, who had tried to capture their son and the plane. Connor’s dad had tears in his eyes. Mrs. Boyle was quietly weeping. As Killian looked at them, he thought that Connor had been fortunate to have had such nice parents.

  “I’m really sorry for your loss,” he told them solemnly, “and I want you to know I’ll always remember my friend Connor.” Then he showed them the tattoo on his right forearm. “We both had this done a few days before Connor’s plane was shot down.”

  Connor’s mother held Killian’s arm and patted the tattoo, as if she was patting the arm of her own son.

  CHAPTER 17

  Later that afternoon, Killian called the office of Congressman Kipling Smith. He told his friend he’d be arriving at Washington’s National Airport in the evening. When he stepped off the plane and walked into the airport lobby, both Kip and Maggie were there to meet him. They informed him they planned on spending a few days with him at Zack’s ranch.

  The following day, Whelan Dunn showed up at the ranch and joined them for lunch. Whelan
was anxious to hear the true story from Killian about what was really going on over in Vietnam. He knew the usual scuttlebutt and the propaganda the government and CIA were feeding the local newspapers, was as he put it ‘bullshit’.

  “Killian, it’s my belief we’re getting a different story here about Vietnam from what’s truly happening there. As you know, up until the middle of this year the CIA was absolutely and exclusively responsible for creating and carrying out the policies which led up to the Vietnam War. They sponsored Ngo Dinh Diem, and they provided the arms and leadership for Diem to crush his opponents. They were also involved with the Michigan State University Advisory Group. We know the United States policy in Vietnam was a CIA monopoly.”

  Killian nodded in agreement. “Yes. It was all CIA in Vietnam until the regular U.S. military decided the Special Forces and the Civilian Irregular Defense Group were not being employed properly. They ordered Operation Switchback, which transferred control of the CIDG program from the CIA to the Military Assistance Command Vietnam, referred to as the MACV. By then the U.S. Special Forces had trained 11,000 Montagnards Strike Force and 40,000 hamlet militia from over eight hundred villages.”

  “Do you feel the MACV was a good move?” asked Whelan.

  “I don’t think anything done over there is good,” Killian replied. “The MACV is there to support the Army of the Republic of Vietnam in defending the country. The ARVN is under the control of President Ngo Dinh Diem, who the CIA put in power. The MACV includes the Army of Special Forces instructors, the Green Berets and CIA personnel organizing the Montagnards in the mountains of the Central Highlands, where I spent most of my time.”

  “So even with Operation Switchback, the CIA is still strongly involved,” Whelan mused.

  “Absolutely, their stamp is all over Vietnam.”

  “Things aren’t going all that well for Ngo Dinh Diem,” Kip put in. “Now the Buddhist priests are fasting and staging peaceful demonstrations against him.”

  “Yes, we read the ARVN troops fired on them last May,” said Maggie.

  “And in Saigon last June, in protest, one of them set himself on fire,” added Zack.

  “Then, more recently, violence escalated when the forces of Ngo Dinh Diem raided pagodas, killing Buddhist priests and arresting thousands of others.”

  “That’s true, Kip. I’ve heard rumors among the troops in Vietnam the CIA’s encouraging a coup against Ngo Dinh Diem, and the word is, our president isn’t opposed to it,” said Killian.

  “That’s a pretty wild rumor,” Whelan responded.

  “Jesus, that would really set things on fire over there,” said Kip.

  “Yes, but there could be some truth to it,” Killian continued. “The talk is the CIA has talked to some generals in the ARVN about the removal of Ngo.”

  No one said anything for a few seconds.

  Kip set down his cup of coffee. “Our president had an interview with Walter Cronkite in September. He emphasized the Vietnamese government’s failings and placed the final responsibility for the success of the war on the Vietnamese. Recently, we in congress have learned that by the end of the year the president wants to start withdrawing military personnel from Vietnam. We believe he wants all CIA officers and agents out as well.”

  “The CIA won’t stand for that,” injected Whelan. “The president will have great resistance from them.”

  “But I’ll bet he pushes for it,” said Maggie. “The president isn’t happy with the way things are going in Vietnam. He’s incensed with the methods the CIA are using, and for their getting us into this mess.”

  Again no one said anything for a few moments as they continued eating.

  “Killian, please tell us about your time over there,” said Whelan. “Kip mentioned you’d found a few of those Blue Warriors, and tragically lost a good friend.”

  Killian spent the next twenty minutes giving them the short version, about the Blue Warriors he had encountered, and about the loss of his friend, Connor Boyle.

  After Killian had finished Zack stood up. “Well, I suppose Killian has had all this war talk up to his ass. How about we have a drink, and talk about more enjoyable things.”

  As Zack headed into the large living room everyone laughed, got up from the table, and followed the wiry old man, who was already at the bar.

  Days later, Killian took a plane to Boston, to attend his friend Connor’s funeral. When he returned to Washington, D.C. he went directly to Kip’s office.

  “How’d it go?” asked Kip.

  “The military puts on a nice funeral. However, it’s still sad to see heartbroken family members mourning their loved ones.”

  “Yes, and to think funeral ceremonies are going on all over the country. Too many young men are being killed.”

  “Kip, you men in congress have got to do something. It’s a powder keg over there, and things are going to get much worse.”

  “Believe me, Killian, we discuss it every day, but the CIA and the president are pulling in different directions. The rest of us are caught in the middle.”

  “Doesn’t seem like a good way to run the country.”

  “No, it isn’t,” agreed the congressman.

  They lapsed into a silence for a moment.

  “What are you going to do now?” asked Kip.

  “I’m not sure. I’d really like to go back to my ranch in El Paso.”

  “You know that isn’t a good idea, Killian.”

  “I know, and I won’t, but maybe someday I will.”

  Kip nodded.

  “We do have some unfinished business I’d like to clean up, Kip.”

  He looked quizzically at Killian. “What business?”

  “With the Mafia underboss Mario Marcinetti, I don’t like his getting away with the murder of General Dugan.”

  “Killian, you should let it rest. I don’t think now’s a good time to get involved with the Mafia again.”

  “Why not?”

  “There’s too much going on right now with the Vietnam problem, and I don’t believe the team would like it.”

  “I thought the team was inactive.”

  “Well, we are and we aren’t.”

  “What the heck does that mean, Kip?”

  “We want to see what’s going to happen in Cuba and Vietnam. So, for the time being, we’ve decided to cool our heels.”

  Killian shook his head, “I can tell you what’s going to happen. Castro’s going to tell the U.S. to go to hell, and all hell is going to break out in Vietnam.”

  “I’m a bit more optimistic about those situations, Killian.”

  “I’ve been involved with the people stirring those pots, Kip. You blend in the powder kegs of Castro, the Mafia, and Ngo Dinh Diem with his army, the North Vietnamese Army, and add the CIA, as the lighted fuse, and you’ve got the potential for an explosion which will rock the United States for years.”

  Kip looked worried. “God, Killian, I hope you’re not right.”

  “So do I, my friend, so do I.”

  They sat in silence for a short time.

  “What about Mario Marcinetti then?” Kip asked.

  Killian thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll cool my heels for a while.”

  In South Vietnam the days of President Ngo Dinh Diem were numbered. The United States was outraged over the actions of his regime, as were the South Vietnamese leaders in the ARVN, who wanted him out of power.

  At the same time, U.S. President John F. Kennedy was struggling with the growth of communism. In the short time he’d been in office, he had acquired a number of formidable enemies. Among them were the Cuban leader Fidel Castro, Nikita Khrushchev of Russia, the Deputy Director of the CIA and powerful Mafia bosses, who were talking of targeting the president and his brother, who was no friend of the crime organization.

  On the second day of November, Ngo Dinh Diem, along with his brother, Ngo Dinh Nhu, was arrested by the Army of the Republic of Vietnam. While being transferred to the military headqu
arters at Tan Son Nhut Air Base they were executed in the back of an armored personnel carrier by two ARVN officers.

  Three weeks later, the course of American history was altered when the president of the United States was killed. President John F. Kennedy, while riding in an open convertible on a Friday afternoon in Dallas, Texas, was shot in the head by Lee Harvey Oswald, who made the rifle shot from the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository. After the murder, there was speculation the death was a conspiracy involving the CIA, the Mafia, the sitting Vice-President Lyndon B. Johnson, and many others. It was rumored there were links between Oswald and the dark labyrinths of the CIA.

  Soon after the death of the president, one by one, General Charles Mittlebonn, Admiral George Hildegard and Congressman Thomas Bernard showed up at Congressman Kipling Smith’s, Washington office. They concurred that, in their opinion, the chameleon team no longer existed. They felt it was much too dangerous to be at odds with the multifarious activities of the CIA, and did not wish to continue to investigate or confront the powerful association.

  Over the past months, Killian had been enjoying his work at Zack’s ranch. They had trained and sold a few excellent racehorses. The old man had basically retired and turned the everyday operations of the ZS ranch over to Killian.

  Zack and Killian had read about the execution of Ngo. They discussed what it meant to the United States and South Vietnam over a steak dinner and a couple of drinks. A few days later, as they sat in front of the television and saw President Kennedy shot and killed, they became angry and drunk.