They did not look happy.
Geoff Craig came down the landing dock steps as Father, Jack, and Aunt Jemima got out of the truck. Craig wordlessly handed a sheet of paper to Father, who read it, said, “Shit!” and handed it to Jack, who read it and handed it to Aunt Jemima.
SECRET
HELP0022 1730 ZULU 6 APRIL 1965
VIA WHITE HOUSE SIGNAL AGENCY
FROM: HELPER FIVE
TO: EARNEST SIX
REFERENCE MAP BAKER 08
1. AT 1425 ZULU 6 APRIL 1965, OUTPOST FOX RELAYED A RADIO REPORT FROM OUTPOST GEORGE STATING THAT UNUSUAL ACTIVITY IN THE BUSH HAD BEEN DETECTED AND CONGOLESE SOLDIERS ANTICIPATED AN ATTACK. WEATHER CONDITIONS AT THAT TIME PRECLUDED BOTH REINFORCEMENT OF OUTPOST GEORGE OR AN AERIAL RECONNAISSANCE THEREOF.
2. AT 1530 OUTPOST FOX RELAYED A RADIO REPORT FROM OUTPOST GEORGE STATING THAT CONGOLESE SOLDIERS HAD DISAPPEARED LEAVING THEIR UNIFORMS BUT TAKING THEIR WEAPONS.
3. THERE HAS BEEN NO FURTHER COMMUNICATION WITH OUTPOST GEORGE.
4. AT 1615 THE WEATHER HAVING CLEARED SUFFICIENTLY TO MAKE AERIAL RECONNAISSANCE, AN L-19 FLYING OVER GEORGE REPORTED SIGHTING ONE APPARENTLY DISMEMBERED BODY; NO OTHER SIGN OF LIFE; AND EVIDENCE THAT GEORGE, INCLUDING GASOLINE SUPPLIES, HAS BEEN BURNED. UNDERSIGNED FORBADE THE L-19 TO LAND.
5. IN VIEW OF THE FOREGOING IT MUST BE PRESUMED THAT TECHNICAL SERGEANT CLARENCE D. WITHERS, RA23380767, SFDET17 IS MISSING IN ACTION AND MUST BE PRESUMED DEAD.
6. A CONGOLESE COMPANY STRENGTH TRUCK BORNE RECONNAISSANCE FORCE WILL DEPART OUTPOST EASY FOR OUTPOST GEORGE AT FIRST LIGHT AND AERIAL RECONNAISSANCE WILL RESUME AT FIRST LIGHT. FURTHER INFORMATION WILL BE FURNISHED AS AVAILABLE.
HELPER FIVE FOR HELPER SIX
SECRET
“What was Colonel Supo’s reaction?” Father asked.
“He wants to see you four hours ago,” Geoff Craig said.
"Let’s go,” Lunsford said, and walked quickly up the stairs of the loading dock.
[ TWO ]
Office of the Commanding General
The John F. Kennedy Center for Special Warfare
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
1555 6 April 1965
“Administratively, Sandy,” General Paul R. Hanrahan, “how is this going to be handled?”
“Normal routine, I would suppose,” Felter replied. “The Adjutant General sends the telegram—”
“The AG doesn’t know yet, does he?”
“That just came in, Red,” Felter said.
“Hold off on telling him, would you, please? At least until we know for sure.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Red,” Felter said. “I’ll wait until I hear from you. You are talking about no later than tomorrow?”
“No later than tomorrow,” Hanrahan said.
“Break it down,” Felter said.
“White House Secure disconnecting,” a male voice said.
“Ski!” Hanrahan called, raising his voice.
Captain Stefan Zabrewski, who had been standing just outside General Hanrahan’s office from the moment the White House Signal Agency announced they had a secure call from Colonel Felter for General Hanrahan, stepped into the door.
“General?”
“One of the outposts was run over. It looks like SFC Withers has bought the farm.”
“Shit!” Captain Zabrewski said, and then “ ‘Looks like’, General? ”
“He messaged that the Congolese with him had taken off. Then he went off the Net. An L-19 flew over, and saw a dismembered body.”
“Goddamn!”
“Get me his address, the other personals,” Hanrahan ordered.
“Have the sergeant major put Padre Martin on ten minutes’ notice in Class A’s.”
“Yes, sir.”
"I will probably require an L-23 to send Wilson. I want us to do it, not some candy-ass AG notification team. And if it’s anywhere this side of Nome, Alaska, I’ll go myself.”
"Yes, sir.”
Captain Zabrewski returned in less than four minutes.
“Sir, RFD Laurinburg, North Carolina,” he reported. “Next of kin, his parents.”
“Thank God, he wasn’t married with half a dozen kids,” Hanrahan said, and then: “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I understand, sir,” Zabrewski said, very softly.
“Where’s Laurinburg?”
“About fifty miles, sir.”
“Activate the chaplain,” Hanrahan ordered. “Change that ten minutes’ notice to I want him here in Class A’s, when I get back from changing into mine. Same thing for Tony.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And make sure Tony has a road map. He’s a good kid, but I’ve been lost with him before.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, may I come along?”
“You don’t have to, Ski. You understand that?”
“I knew Withers, sir.”
“Okay,” Hanrahan said.
[ THREE ]
Office of the Military Commandant of Kivu, Oriental, Equator,
and Kasai Provinces
The Hotel du Lac
Costermansville, Kivu Province
Republic of the Congo
1910 6 April 1965
“Forgive our appearance, sir,” Major George Washington Lunsford said as he entered the office of Colonel Jean-Baptiste Supo with Major Darrell J. Smythe and Lieutenants Geoffrey Craig and Jacques Portet. “We just got the word.”
What could have been a smile flickered on the face of Colonel Supo as he returned Lunsford’s salute.
“Totse, Tomas, and I have been at the map,” Supo said, speaking French. “Deciding how best to deal with the situation.”
Majors Alain George Totse and Doubting Thomas/Tomas were on their knees on the floor, on which a large map of Oriental and Kivu Provinces was laid out.
“The heavy question, boss,” Doubting Thomas said, “is whether we can get the L-20 into George. It’s one of the shorter strips.”
“Why do we want to put an L-20 into George?” Lunsford asked as he dropped to his knees to look at the map.
“Because we can be there thirty minutes after first light,” Tomas said. “And the reaction force—if there’s no ambush— can’t get there before nine-thirty, maybe later.”
“Why the L-20?” Lunsford pursued.
“The sooner we get trackers on the site,” Colonel Supo said, “the better. As Tomas has set it up, there would be six people in the L-20. The two trackers, myself, yourself, Tomas, and the pilot.”
“You’re going to the site, sir?”
“Yes,” Supo said simply. “The question then is can we all go in the L-20, with two L-19s available for reconnaissance, or will it be necessary to make three trips in L-19s, which will then not be immediately available for reconnaissance?”
“I can put the Beaver in there,” Jack Portet said. “Getting it out again with six people on it will be a little hairy.”
“The trackers and Major Tomas will stay at George,” Colonel Supo said. “Major Tomas leads me to believe he has some tracking experience himself.”
“Yes, sir, he does,” Lunsford agreed. “Sir, with respect, you don’t think the Simbas will be at George, knowing we’ll land there to see what happened?”
“They are neither sophisticated nor courageous,” Supo said flatly. “As, apparently, neither were the soldiers I left with Captain Withers.”
Lunsford didn’t reply directly.
“What time’s first light?”
“I figure we can get off the ground from the airstrip at five minutes to six,” Doubting Tomas said. “I’d give my left nut for a D-model Huey for this.”
“It will take us fifteen minutes to get to the airstrip,” Lunsford said. “That means we’ll have to leave the hotel no later than 0530. Order breakfast at 0500. Sound reveille accordingly.”
Without really thinking about it, Jack and Doubting Thomas understood this to be an order; both said, “Yes, sir.”
“I could bring the H13 out there
,” Geoff Craig said. “Once we’re sure the landing zone isn’t hot.”
“Don’t send it anywhere else,” Lunsford ordered. “But don’t start out there until you get the word.” He paused and looked at Colonel Supo. “I am presuming, sir, that all of this meets with your approval?”
Supo nodded, indicating he approved.
“There is one other thing,” he said. “The reaction force.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I think it unlikely that there are Simbas in sufficient numbers in the area to give them the courage to attack the convoy,” he said. “But the possibility exists. Would it be possible to provide some degree of aerial surveillance of the Force while it is en route to Site George?”
Lunsford nodded.
“Work it out, Aunt Jemima,” he ordered, switching to English. “Either you take one of the L-19s, or Craig does.”
“Sir,” Major Smythe said, flustered. “I haven’t understood a word of this conversation. You’ve all been speaking French.”
“In that case, Geoff, you take it,” Lunsford ordered in English. “You keep the H-13 hot to trot, Jemima, in case we need it.”
“Yes, sir,” Smythe said. “May I respectfully remind you, Sir, that it is the aviation officer who normally makes flight assignments? ”
"In other words, you want to fly the L-19?”
“Yes, sir, that would be my recommendation.”
“Okay. Geoff, you keep the H-13 hot to trot.”
[ FOUR ]
The Hotel du Lac
Costermansville, Kivu Province
Republic of the Congo
2125 6 April 1965
The mess of the military commandant of Kivu, Oriental, Equator, and Kasai Provinces was organized according to the customs of the Force Publique, which in turn was closely patterned after that of the Royal Belgian Army. Seating, in other words, was by rank. Seating was under the control of Colonel Supo’s sergeant major, who shuffled people around until protocol was satisfied, and only then sent Colonel Supo’s orderly to find the colonel and tell him his officers were assembled for dinner.
Colonel Supo sat in the middle of a long table, from the ends of which two other tables formed a U. Unless there was a distinguished guest, the seat to Colonel Supo’s right was reserved for the next senior officer present. To Supo’s left was the next junior officer. Seating by rank moved from right to left across the head table, and then down the tables forming the legs of the U.
Mrs. Marjorie Bellmon Portet was considered a distinguished guest, and sat at Colonel Supo’s right. Her husband, in his role as acting general manager of Air Simba, was similarly considered a distinguished guest, but tonight, since he had elected to dress for dinner in the uniform of a first lieutenant of the U.S. Army, he found himself far down the right leg of the table. Lieutenant Colonel Dahdi found himself seated where Colonel Supo’s Chef de Cabinet normally sat, to Colonel Supo’s left. The Chef de Cabinet had personally assumed command of the relief column headed for Outpost George.
Next to him sat Major Tomas. He usually sat in that chair, in defiance of protocol, because Colonel Supo’s sergeant major knew that Colonel Supo thought very highly of Major Tomas, and had informed his sergeant major that Major Tomas, like he himself, had once been a sergeant major, and there is of course an exception to every rule.
Tonight, Lieutenant Colonel Jemima sat next to Mrs. Portet, and next to Colonel Jemima sat Major Alain George Totse, Colonel Supo’s intelligence officer.
Everyone in the dining room, except Mrs. Portet rose, without orders, when Colonel Supo entered his mess. Colonel Supo, who like everybody else was wearing paratrooper’s camouflage fatigues, bowed to Mrs. Portet, kissed her hand, and sat down. Everyone else then sat down.
Waiters filled one of the two wineglasses before each plate with a Chardonnay from South Africa.
Major Totse (as the second senior, bona fide, Congolese officer present) rose, glass in hand, and everyone, this time including Mrs. Portet, also got to their feet.
“The President of the Republic of the Congo,” he said.
Everyone took a sip of the Chardonnay.
“The President of the United States,” Lieutenant Colonel Dahdi said, raising his glass.
Everyone took another sip of wine.
“Colonel Jean-Baptiste Supo,” Major Totse offered.
Everyone but Colonel Jean-Baptiste Supo took a sip of wine.
“Our comrade, Sergeant Chef Clarence Withers. May he be in God’s hands,” Major Totse intoned.
Everyone took a sip of wine.
“To our comrades serving with Sergeant Withers,” Lieutenant Colonel Dahdi offered. “May they be in the hands of God.”
Everyone but the Americans sat down, without sipping their wine.
After an awkward moment, the Americans also sat down.
Half a dozen waiters began serving the first course, and pouring a very nice South African Merlot into the glasses of anyone who expressed an interest.
“Inasmuch as we are pressed for time,” Major Totse said, “Colonel Supo hopes you will forgive him for intruding on our dinner with his appreciation of the situation.”
The sergeant major ushered in two Congolese paratroopers pushing a map board. The map was of the eastern Congo, from a little north of Costermansville to a little south of Albertville on Lake Tanganyika.
“This is the location of Outpost George,” Totse began, pointing to the map with a pointer. “It was constructed several years before independence on a cattle ranch owned by a Monsieur Delamm, to accommodate his Cessna Model 172 aircraft. The buildings of the now-deserted farm are approximately two point four kilometers west of the landing strip.
“Route Nationale Number Five, which is shown in red, runs in this area from Costermansville to below Albertville. It passes approximately point-five kilometers from Outpost George here, and is visible from Outpost George.
“To the west of Route Nationale Five, the terrain is gently rolling grassy hills, without much other vegetation. To the east of Route 5, however, there is heavy bush to the shore of Lake Tanganyika. That is a distance of approximately fifty miles. The road was built inland because—like the airfield at Outpost George—it could be easily bulldozed on the gently rolling hills. To go any farther east, it would have been necessary to remove the bush, which made no sense.
“Colonel Supo believes there are a number of Simbas in this area. The bush makes it a good place for them to hide from our patrols, and they can easily leave the bush, cross Route Five, and help themselves to the cattle from the ranches west of Route Five. Furthermore, since this area borders on Lake Tanganyika, it offers them a chance to retreat across Lake Tanganyika into Tanzania should the Army somehow locate them. Similarly, if the Soviets or Red Chinese make good on their promise to supply the Simbas, doing so across Lake Tanganyika would be the most convenient way.
“Colonel Supo believes that Outpost George was very likely attacked by a band of Simbas on a cattle-thieving mission. They had accidentally happened across it, and more because they thought a Congolese Army detachment would have equipment and supplies—and if nothing else, weapons—they could use, had overwhelmed it for that reason, rather than as an attack on an outpost per se.”
Colonel Supo said something to Major Totse in Swahili, and Totse made the translation.
“Colonel Supo regrets that the price was the loss of the valiant Sergeant First Withers, but suggests it was not in vain. They will learn they cannot attack outposts without immediate retaliation.”
Totse let that sink in a moment.
“The reaction force under Lieutenant Colonel Obesti will reach Outpost George at approximately 0900 tomorrow. They will have with them supplies of aviation fuels to replace those we must conclude were destroyed by the Simbas, and radios to replace those we presume were also lost. A larger detachment than was previously stationed at George, under the command of a captain, will replace the detachment that was at George.
“If it proves possi
ble to land in the L-20 very early tomorrow—Colonel Supo believes it unlikely but possible that the Simbas may have rendered the runway unusable—it will have aboard two trackers, who will immediately begin to locate both the Simbas and the Congolese soldiers of the original Outpost George detachment. The trackers will carry with them radios to communicate both with Station George and the reaction force.
“If the runway has been rendered unusable—which Colonel Supo believes unlikely, as the Simbas probably did not have the equipment to cause it serious damage—then it will be necessary to await the arrival at Station George of the reaction force, which will make the runway usable. If the L-20 can land, this will give the trackers a two-hour advantage.
“Lieutenant Colonel Dahdi and Major Tomas proposed to Colonel Supo that Major Dahdi and the two trackers be parachuted onto Outpost George as the first order of business tomorrow, but Colonel Supo decided against that proposal.”
Colonel Supo said something in Swahili, and Major Totse translated:
“Colonel Supo is highly appreciative of the offer, but felt that there was a possibility that the Simbas might be on the site, or have it under observation, and he could no more afford to lose the two trackers than Colonel Dahdi could afford to lose Major Tomas.”
When he had finished, Totse looked at Supo.
“Does that about cover it, sir?”
Supo replied in Swahili, and Totse translated:
“Colonel Supo would be pleased to hear from Colonel Dahdi and his officers any recommendations or suggestions.”
“Anybody got anything to say?” Father Lunsford asked.
One by one, starting with the junior American officer present—Lieutenant Jacques Portet—the Americans shook their heads, no.
Supo spoke again.
“Colonel Supo again apologizes for interfering with our dinner, and suggests we now finish it,” Totse translated.
The entrée was broiled fish, large firm white filets, served with asparagus and steamed potatoes.
[ FIVE ]
County Highway 17
Special Ops Page 63
