by Jaime Mera
Estabon spoke to Eduardo as he paused after the statement, the LTs waited for a response thinking Estabon was daydreaming. “Is there a reason you can’t tell me why you’re really here?” Estabon’s brown eyes looked at both men.
“What are you talking about?” Holland asked, without addressing him as Captain being his peer.
“The truth goes a long way out here. I know you have a classified mission, and I’m not demanding you tell me the details, but I do demand you tell us that you're here for something else than destroying the depot. My team will be in danger if your men just go off to do what they are going to do; so we will cover your back, I guarantee it. But don’t run in another direction or use my team to be bullet stoppers. Is that clear enough agent Keeter?” Estabon looked straight at the CIA operative.
“Man, you’re just like Colonel Ramirez.” Keeter’s thick black eyebrows rose as he sat back on his heels.
“And you spooks always have an answer to fit your goals.” Estabon replied with a straight mouth.
“Younger, but maybe a little scarier.” Keeter stared him down as if he were a novice in the world of spies.
“We’re going to stay here for twenty and get our men some needed hygiene and medical care. Two of my snipers will tentatively take positions here and here. They will decide the final locations based on what they can cover.” Estabon returned the egotistical stare, but turned his head to Holland. “My snipers will assist your snipers, so the target is taken out. I want triple redundancy. Afterwards we detonate the munitions and call in an airstrike on whatever remains. We will take this route to this point where you can continue to move back to this LZ or go your way back to where ever you came from.”
“We don’t have time to eat and relax.” Holland said out of concern about missing their window of opportunity on their target.
“Your spotter needs his jock itch treated, so you might want to get the men ready before we have more problems on the objective. Unless, you want to shoot the wrong guy because he has the urge to scratch?”
Holland didn’t know how to respond. The classified mission was already transparent to Estabon, and he seemed to know more about his men than he did. “What are you, psychic?”
Estabon looked at Keeter who was inspecting to see any sign of truth. “He came in with a weird unmanly stride, unless he always checks to see if he still has a pair. So yeah, I would say I might be psychic.” Estabon kept a straight face, but his men silently smirked looking outward securing the perimeter.
“Anything else we should know?” Holland asked.
“Actions on the objective will be directed by me. Don’t worry; your mission will be accomplished. I want you to succeed so we can go on our own separate ways.” Estabon saw Holland’s relief that he wasn’t alone in trying to get the mission done and over with. But Holland also didn’t want this friction in the chain of command to get any of his men injured either.
Holland looked at Keeter waiting to see if he would try to out rank Estabon, but it never came. Keeter breathed in and leaned forward placing himself in a more comfortable sitting position.
“Okay, let’s get the men in so we can update them on the mission.” He withdrew a pamphlet from his chest left pocket and handed it to Estabon. “Here’s a photo of the target, Ralph Lester.”
Estabon took a look at the photo for appearance sake, as the patrol made preparations to get to the objective rally point three hours before dusk. Twenty minutes later, they picked up and moved north with Master Sergeant Michaels taking point. The nineteen men silently traversed the foliage; even Keeter’s light feet relaxed the men’s concern about his infantry skills. They came up to a large open area full of rice paddies. Laotian farmers started the early day, but presented a problem for the teams. It made them steer clear further than usual not taking the chance of a farmer spotting them. Michaels guided the teams expertly around following rolling hills with vegetation spreading out.
Estabon saw what the farmers knew; some of them spotting regular movement of NVA and Viet-con troops sticking to back trails in the past week. Their knowledge of the region was very valuable since they spent most of their adult lives seeing the war mold the people and terrain. They were neutral in most respects but would not give up their lives under torture by the Laotian or North Vietnamese militaries. So Estabon made sure his patrol knew before the mission started, that they would avoid all inhabitants for everyone’s sake.
Michaels read the trails well and used an old trail not used for more than a month as reference, before making it to the objective rally point at dusk. The lack of close calls worried Holland and his men, but Estabon’s men knew the Captain was the reason for not running into enemy patrols or wanderers without cause. Keeter on the other hand was more concerned about the timeline. Identifying and confirming the target’s death would be extremely difficult now that they would have to do it at night. This meant they would have to identify the body up close.
“Don’t worry LT. The target is there. We’ll wait for the sniper teams to get into position. We will go do the leader’s recon in ten minutes.” Estabon whispered to both LTs.
Holland gave his sniper team instructions to focus on taking out security and opportune targets, while the assault team took out the target and sabotaged the stockpiles. The plan seemed sound, but wouldn’t be confirmed until the leader’s recon finalized it.
The suspected camp was on the opposite side of the hill in a wide valley. A large river flowed north of it from east to west. The river’s width was perfect for a water craft approach, but it was also deep inland with too many areas for detection. The three officers, Michaels and a grenadier eased their way through the underbrush. The ground felt damp and warm from the day’s changing weather as they purposely inched their way in a crawl to the southeast side of the camp. Estabon led the way; stopping within throwing distance of open ground around the perimeter. There wasn’t a fence line, towers, mines or traps. The harden structures were wooden buildings near the river and a fifty-meter stretch of a side pier. Three long boats docked to it. Bamboo and straw canopies were setup covering large areas in the center. Twenty-eight circular tent-like structures camouflaged the stockpile of ammunition, food and weapons from the sky.
Soldiers slept under three twenty-by-thirty meter canopies, scattered about without any definite organization like a military barracks. They were temporary cover, and made it easy for them to get up and start shooting or scatter; if alerted.
Estabon motioned the men to come to his side. “I count thirteen sentries, about ninety men, two dogs on the other end and Lester is probably in one of the wooden shacks by the pier.”
“That’s about two hundred meters from here.” Holland sighed, trying to figure out how to bypass the Soldiers or kill them.
Estabon read Lester’s mind, knowing he would be leaving the camp early in the morning, probably on a longtail boat. The destination was north, which meant they had an opening. He turned to Keeter. “You were afraid Lester would be gone by now. We position your team on the east side of the river so when he leaves, you take him out. My team will assault this position from a distance and draw any survivors away from you.” Estabon glanced at Holland.
“We don’t even know if Lester is there?” Keeter whispered.
“He is and I can prove it. But let’s move back so we can talk about it.” Estabon started to move back the way they came past the grenadier who was the rear security.
Keeter was hesitant, as Michaels waited for him to trail behind the three officers. “He hasn’t even taken the time to sketch things or anything.” He muttered under his breath, looking at Holland’s boot treads filter through the brush.
“Don’t worry Sir. He got everything, I don’t know how but he got it all and you’ll see it when we get back.” Michaels whispered, his past experience with Estabon showed him he had some kind of photographic memory. At least that was what he figured. Every time they went on training patrols Estabon was able to draw a perfect det
ailed layout of the objectives and terrain around them, with only a minute of surveying the area or situation.
Estabon saw Keeter’s thoughts and Michaels’ remark, but didn’t smile, as his attention was focused on minds possibly looking in their direction or dangers along the ground. As he knew, this camp was open for Soldiers to occupy, and designed for cover from above. The expectation of US boots on the ground in Laos was there, but they had many depots like this one, and feared losing them all by airstrikes should they look like a military camp from above. This meant no towers or visible fence line. Without a defined line, it would be too dangerous to leave many mines or traps around the camp should a wandering Soldier move to take a leak.
The recon team entered the rally point thirty minutes later. They erected a cover with ponchos and rucksacks to be able to use flashlights. Holland and Keeter watched in awe as Estabon drew the campsite like a professional artist. “What makes you think Lester will go east on the river, if he’s there at all?” Keeter asked.
“You were worried he would be evacuated to the north, so east along the river is heading north. They would take a relatively fast fishing boat and not go on foot, which will take more men to escort him.” Estabon explained as he sketched in the scale distances to several points overlooking the pier. “We can get a sniper team up here and keep an eye on the structures. Everyone that comes out can be identified from there. They will also be able to provide cover fire on the flank should the assault not take most of the Soldiers by surprise.”
“So your team is going to kill all the Soldiers?” Holland doubted their ability to do it without any major casualties.
“Those Soldiers have families, but they’re also going to fight and kill other people; so yes the plan is to take out the depot. Unless you can convince them all to go home and never fight again?” Estabon’s demeanor showed certainty.
“Okay, we’re running out of time. Let’s do this.” Keeter replied.
Keeter, Holland, Farrell and Banks listened to Estabon run through all the details of the plan to include contingencies.
Dawn quickly came with the sniper team spotting Lester loading into one of three longtail boats. Holland and his team were already northeast of them preparing to ambush Lester. Estabon’s team had about twenty minutes to get into their final assault positions.
The A-team was spread out among the three main sleeping canopies. “How do you do it Eduardo?” Estabon asked as his griped his weapon ready to kill people.
“You know how and why. But I’m sorry it ended up this way. The politics of it all and the people who I have been in contact makes it seem impossible to help the people that really need it. We have to come up with a better plan to stop these wars and hurtful ideologies.”
“So many innocent people are dying and I’m part of it.” Estabon’s despondent emotion merged with his brother’s sentiment.
“Right now, do what you have to do to stay alive. I’m proud of you and love you.” Eduardo’s thoughts seemed to fade away, but they never really parted, even in sleep.
Faint gunshots in the distance indicated Holland’s team engaging their target. Without delay, SSG Somers called in the airstrike. Five men threw grenades as deep as they could, instantly dropping back into position ready to fire their weapons into the resting Soldiers. Estabon commenced the controlled automatic fire from one end of a canopy to the other. Grazing fire of various calibers tore through bodies as fragments from the grenades killed and confused Soldiers adding to the panic. People on the other end of the camp came out half dressed with weapons in a run or cautious stoop. The two snipers taking out anyone near the boats, out of the main kill zones, or attempting to run for cover.
Green smoke from one of the grenades lay one quarter of the way towards the river. By the time the Vietnamese Soldiers could fire back the A-team had a 1:2 ratio advantage. The precision of their continued shots lessened the ratio to zero. Estabon rushed the objective as his men stayed on line with him. Moans came from the piles of bodies, as Estabon quickly shot the people putting them out of his shared misery.
The advance on the objective wasn’t planned, but the men kept cool as Estabon ordered them to run back to the side of the hill. As they entered the dense area of trees, two U.S. F4 Phantom jets strafed the north side of the green smoke with cluster bombs. The popping of air from the bomb’s explosives and munitions in the camp paused the jungle’s natural ambience for several seconds as the shockwave pushed trees and leaves away. The ground burned charcoal where green and brown used to exist. All of the standing structures and trees inside the camp were reduced to stumps and debris as stockpiled ammunition of grenades and mines detonated whenever peace attempted to step in.
Without looking back, Estabon hurried the team to return to the rally point. They waited for the sniper team to join them at the rally point with adrenaline still pumping. Once the sniper team arrived they quickly spent all day maneuvering back into South Vietnamese territory. They took up a hive location and requested further instructions as soon as they called in mission complete. Banks saw Estabon’s depressive anger as they took time to reflect on their past actions.
“Captain, you did the right thing.” Banks tried to console him.
“We killed one of our own, because he was extorted into flipping to the other side. We killed fathers, sons and brothers all because some idiots don’t like capitalism.” Estabon said as he reapplied new camouflage on his face after a smooth shave.
“I have seen you under pressure and even though you might just be nineteen, I will accept your maturity and decisions above old farts like me. But, whatever you do, don’t every mistake family sentiment over your job to kill the enemy before they kill you.” Banks’ African American complexion was comely exposed as he rolled up his sleeve to look at his watch.
Estabon knew the words before they came out of his mouth, but wanted to hear them with his ears. Maybe to confirm the reality of the man’s concern and mentorship. “Thank you Sergeant Major. I will never forget that.”
Banks nodded with approval. “So what do you think they will have us do now?”
“Now, that we helped the CIA out?” Estabon paused and turned his head to him. “Probably send us north to Hanoi.” He smiled.
“I don’t see why not, but make sure it’s not a joint operation.” Banks raised an eyebrow with a chuckle.
Chapter 5
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With All Due Respect
Cambodian Border West of Pleiku, South Vietnam
Radio chatter filled the airwaves as the TET offensive was underway. Estabon’s A-team over the past eight months suffered two losses due to permanent injury. Even his strategic marvel couldn’t keep fragments and bullets from placing two elite Soldiers on the disabled roster. The war in Nam was over for them, but a new war was beginning at home. Incoming mail from his parents came few and far in between even though he and Eduardo were alternating their letters to make sure there was no month left without news. Edmond and Lucy opened up a new business and were probably overwhelmed to write on a regular basis. Whatever the case, Estabon knew the mail would be stalled for a long while. The advancements of US troops to take enemy territory were courageous, but costly to families. Now the TET offensive was the north’s response to end the war. A platoon of green berets and company of 1st Calvary Soldiers seized a choke point along route 19 by order of higher command through chaotic communications.
A company base camp in the woods was an easy target to snipers or attack from heavy armor rolling down the road, but the Company Commander listened to Estabon’s recommendations. The other A-team and B-Team in the task force saw Estabon as the subject matter expert, even though Major Allison was senior officer in the Task Force. It was evident Estabon had a major influence on his decisions. However, new orders were given to move west and retake the city of Pleiku by joining up with a 101st Airborne Division battalion already on the outskirts of the city.
“Helicopter support isn’t coming, so
we have to move by foot. I want good fast routes; the A-teams will lead the Task Force taking the north and south side of the road. If one team is held up, the other will advance but get no further than half a klick. My team will split up and take the rear of the platoons.” Major Allison briefed the other contingencies as the tension of the situation was obvious.
The unit was sent to the middle of nowhere to stop or slow down an attack which already occurred in many cities and military locations all across the country. The teams moved out thirty minutes later after coordinating checkpoints. Master Sergeant Michaels took lead on the north side moving east closely followed by Estabon. The A-teams cleared a path with speed and ease, but the kilometers started to take its toll as the evening came. The southern force moved north of the road joining back up into one task force. News of large scale attacks and counterattacks in Khe Sanh and Hue was trickling down to the south, but Estabon knew the extent of the situation. As darkness came, Major Allison pushed the Soldiers to continue moving. For Estabon’s A-team it was slow going, compared to what they were used to with Estabon guiding them, but they were limited by the large number of Soldiers behind them.
It however, allowed the team to pace themselves better; and Estabon an opportunity to focus on what Eduardo was dealing with at such a late hour.
Brigadier General Nimes heard the intelligence brief by his staff and detachment commanders. His green beret draped half way over a pile of maps and reports by his side; a single silver star facing the bunker’s lighted ceiling. He sat attentive by the table in front of him. His fingers squeezed a document as his other hand sifted through reports from the III Marine Amphibian Force and 1st Calvary Division units near Khe Sanh. North Vietnamese infantry, armor and artillery battalions were entrenching themselves in the city and all reports showed US and allied forces reacting more out of necessity than design.
