Guerilla Warfare (2006)
Page 6
"We don't know," Punzarron replied. "Just be careful." "I shall do as requested," the village headman promised. "Com todo o gusto."
Platas ordered the suboficial to get the patrol back on their feet. "We're going straight back to headquarters," he said. "We must report this situation to Comandante Toledo immediately."
Punzarron barked the necessary orders, and the men struggled to their feet. The Portuguese noted the machine gunner would slow down the patrol, and he ordered one of the other members of the crew to take the heavy weapon from him. "You may now take turns with it." Sometimes discipline must come in second to expediency. To even things out, he would give the machine gun crew extra PT that evening.
Cabecinho waved as the Falangists left the village.
.
SEAL BASE CAMP
THE detachment worked rapidly to prepare the bivouac to be temporarily abandoned during a long patrol out into the OA. Caches were closed while a minute inspection of the camp was made. All signs of the area having been occupied had to be obliterated, even though the SEALs eventually planned to return to the site. The slightest bit of carelessness could result in passing strangers inadvertently discovering something as small as a burnt match, a piece of an MRE packet or even a slight imprint of a boot in the soft soil. These seemingly insignificant objects would be like a neon light to a clever, vigilant enemy.
When the work was done, Brannigan led them a couple of hundred meters away, then sat everyone down for an oral OPORD of the coming operation. The men instinctively maintained team and section integrity as they settled into a semicircle to listen to the skipper's discourse.
"All right, my friends," Brannigan began, "here's the word. We're going to board the three rigid raider boats with the piraguas tied to the 'stern. We'll head down the Rio Ancho to that creek. By the way, we're now referring it to as Big Creek."
"Not a particularly colorful appellation, but aptly descriptive just the same," Chad Murchison remarked.
"Thank you, Petty Officer Murchison," Brannigan said. "We're so pleased you approve."
"Sorry, sir!" Chad uttered with a red face as the other SEALs grinned.
"To continue," Brannigan went on. "When we get to Big Creek, we'll hold up there. All boats will be camouflaged and hidden, then the First Assault Section plus the Odd Couple will head cross-country to that village of Novida. The Second Assault Section will follow at a discreet distance with the Command Element right behind them. As soon as the First Section reaches the objective, they will halt and inform me. Meanwhile, our intrepid scouts will re-con the area to see if any bad guys are in the vicinity:'
Bruno Puglisi gave his SAW an affectionate pat on the receiver. "And if there are any around, can we kill 'em, sir?"
"From that point on we'll play it by ear, Puglisi," Brannigan said. "I'm sure you'll find some activity that will amuse you before it's all said and done on this operation." He gestured to Lieutenant (J. G.) Jim Cruiser and Senior Chief Buford Dawkins. "Let's move 'em out!"
The First Assault Section led the way to the boats on the river.
.
HEADQUARTERS, BANDERA 1
1800 HOURS
CAPITAN Tomas Platas left the patrol hurriedly after their return to the garrison and reported to headquarters. He sought out Generalisimo Jose Maria de Castillo y Plato, teniente-Coronel Jeronimo Busch and Comandante Javier Toledo, to inform them of the strangers who had mysteriously appeared in the theater of war.
Meanwhile Suboficial Adolfo Punzarron kept the other members of the patrol back for a special inspection. The eight men were lined up in a single rank with their rifles slung. Each held his canteen in his right hand. Punzarron went to the first man and pointed to the water carrier, commanding, "Derramelo!"
The man turned the canteen upside down. A few drops spilled out. Punzarron moved to the next rifleman, giving the same order. Once more some drops of water dribbled from the container. However, when the third man obeyed the command, not a bit of water emerged. The suboficial punched him hard in the face, causing him to stumble back and fall to the ground.
Punzarron glared at the men. "I am trying to teach you water discipline! In the Spanish Foreign Legion in the Moroccan desert we learned the value of conserving our water. And you will learn it here, even if we are in the midst of a savannah that is crisscrossed with streams and creeks. Many of you have spent too many years in the luxury of garrison duty with plenty of water and beer available. You are on active field operations now, where only an idiota would guzzle down every drop in his canteen as if there is no tomorrow."
He went to the next two men, satisfied when they, too, had something left in their canteens. However, the next three NCOs had consumed all the water they had. They were treated to a hard clout each for their lack of self-control.
Meanwhile, as Punzarron administered his brand of discipline to the men of the patrol, Toledo, Castillo and Busch listened with great interest as Platas explained what had transpired in Novida. Castillo was worried. "Undoubtedly outsiders and I mean foreigners--have moved into the Gran Chaco. The most disturbing element of the situation is that they could well be an international group brought in from the UN. Right now the last thing we need is a peacekeeping force traipsing around the future location of the DFF."
Busch snorted a laugh as he lit a cigar. "The UN, mi generalisimo? What is there to worry about from incompetent, badly led Third World soldiers trying to interfere with our plans?"
Toledo wasn't quite so optimistic. "Perhaps it isn't the United Nations, Coronel Busch. We cannot safely assume that is the case. If we are wrong, we will pay a terrible price for our arrogant complacency."
"Good thinking, Comandante," Castillo said. "I want you to send two of your combat sections out for a sweeping reconnaissance of the Grasslands in the vicinity of Novida."
"Inmediatamente, mi generalisimo! " Toledo said. "I shall dispatch Silber and Argento within the hour."
"Excellent," Castillo said. "And I think it is the time to bring in reinforcements:' He looked at Busch. "How many men can we send for, Coronel?"
"Bandera 2 has approximately fifty men," Busch replied. "And it will only be a matter of weeks before we can transfer in enough personnel from Argentina and Chile to activate Bandera 3:'
"Pronto!" Castillo said. "Do it!"
.
THE LOZANO GRASSLANDS
3 DECEMBER
0930 HOURS LOCAL
THE savannah offered little in the way of cover. Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz knew they could easily be spotted by anyone within a short distance, and the duo moved cautiously and alertly, wanting to make sure they would see any strangers before they saw them. They had split off from the First Assault Section to investigate what lay ahead of them after the detachment left the boats and moved onto the grasslands. This was the Odd Couple's element, and the pair was used to operating alone in enemy territory.
The entire area was cut by little streams, and they could easily jump across most. Fortunately, the wider ones were shallow enough to be effortlessly waded. The two worked well together, able to conduct an excellent recon without one spoken word. Quick hand signals or gestures were all that was necessary for the team to exchange information on what was seen and heard as they moved along. If they found themselves in a situation that required them to speak, all they had to do was whisper into their LASH headsets that amplified the sound in the earphones to make it seem a normal tone of voice to the receiving party.
It was Dave who first came across the trail that had been smashed down in the grass. He called Mike up to him, and they dropped to their knees to study the spoor. "It looks like maybe a dozen men, don't you think?" Mike whispered.
Dave nodded. "Right on. I'd say they're moving from southwest to northeast."
"Wait a minute," Mike said. "They've come along here in both directions." He leaned closer to the ground to study the tracks. "Right! They came in from the northeast, and went back in the exact opposite direction."
"Bad habit:' Dave said. "You should never follow the same path twice in enemy territory."
"What if they don't consider this enemy territory, ol' buddy? This is prob'ly their stomping grounds."
"Good point," Dave said. "From where we are now, I say they came from their base camp, and went down to that village, then back to their own place again. I think we ought to move slightly to the north and then turn east."
"You're right," Mike said. "That way we can take a roundabout way to whatever destination those guys were headed for."
The add Couple put the plan into action, moving through the grass on the chosen azimuth. Both were glad it was too early for the mosquitoes to come out. It was bad enough trying to conduct an efficient recon without having the little bastards buzzing around. The insect repellent kept them off, but they were still a nuisance. A half hour passed, then Dave whispered into his LASH.
"Hold it!"
Mike looked up and saw what had alarmed him. A column of twelve men were coming their way. The strangers seemed to be on the alert as if expecting trouble for someone. The Odd Couple decided it was the latter; and they moved back into some deeper grass to observe.
Mike and Dave used their binoculars for a closer look. The strangers were obviously military men garbed in camouflage uniforms, carrying weapons, and wearing web gear. "Hey," Dave whispered, "get a load of the insignia sewn on their arms."
Mike noted the red and black flash of the Falangists on the sleeves. "They're the bad guys all right."
"Well, why don't we follow 'em and see where they're going?" Dave suggested.
"May I lead?"
"Be my guest."
As they followed the patrol, they noted the professionalism of its members. Their physical conditioning seemed mixed, but they were obviously well-disciplined. As expected, they went straight to Novida.
The Odd Couple found a small knoll on the northwest side of the small community that offered good observation. The patrol was given warm greetings by the civilians, and the troops seemed familiar with the village. They went to the well where some women were drawing water, and carried on what seemed to be polite conversation with the females.
"Mmm," Mike mused. "They seem to have been told to be respectful to the local ladies. That means the value of good conduct with the indigenous personnel has been emphasized to them."
"Their leaders have prob'ly read Mao's Little Red Book"
"Yeah," Mike said. "It looks like the patrol is moving on. I'll bet half my next payday that the bastards are out looking for us."
"I'll bet all my next payday," Dave said. "C'mon! We got to get back to the detachment."
The two SEALs slid off the knoll, then turned toward Big Creek.
.
SEAL BIVOUAC
BIG CREEK
1400 HOURS LOCAL
THE Odd Couple, having rejoined the First Assault Section, led them back through the outlying defensive perimeter of the bivouac. The group hurried in the direction to Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan's CP. While the riflemen and the SAW gunner of the team dropped off, Lieutenant James Cruiser, Chief Matt Gunnarson and Connie Concord followed Mike and Dave. As the quintet strolled toward the creek, they were joined by Senior Chief Buford Dawkins, Milly Mills and Gutsy Olson of the Second Assault Section.
Brannigan was munching on a cereal bar when the eight men arrived. "Well!" he said. "And to what do I owe the honor of all these visitors?"
"Recon report, sir:' Mike said. He quickly gave an oral presentation detailing the results of the scouting trip, telling about the Falangist patrol and its friendly reception at Novida.
"We'd pretty much figured the enemy had made friends with the locals," Brannigan said. "Not much surprise there. But I'd like to find out where those Falangists call home. And what sort of camp or garrison they might have."
"I volunteer the Second Assault Team for the mission, sir:' the senior chief said.
"Accepted," Brannigan said. "I think you also better take another look at that village to see if there's any unusual activity there. The place could be an auxiliary headquarters of some kind." He looked at the Odd Couple and started to speak.
"We know, sir," Dave interrupted. "We'll be on point." Brannigan smiled. "You'll leave at oh-five-hundred hours tomorrow."
.
THE LOZANO GRASSLANDS
VICINITY OF NOVIDA
4 DECEMBER
1030 HOURS LOCAL
THE Second Assault Section was sprawled in the thick grass, arranged in a defensive circle that offered protection from all sides. Senior Chief Petty Officer Buford Dawkins and his SAW gunner Petty Officer Second Class Joe Miskoski were in the middle of the formation. Joe lay on his back, snoozing through a light nap, while Dawkins sat cross-legged, glancing off in the direction of the small cattle-raising settlement.
The plucky, hardworking Odd Couple had been gone for close to an hour. Their mission was to run a recon of the village to check out the activity, keeping a special lookout for any Falangist units that might be in the vicinity. The senior chief reached over and roughly shook Joe awake at almost the same instant a whisper came over the LASH net from Lamar Taylor. "The recon team is coming in."
Buford raised himself just enough to see Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz approaching the perimeter. Three minutes later the scouts joined him, sinking wearily into sitting positions at his side.
"The village is clear," Mike said. "Only the locals are there."
"But there's some cowboy types out with the cattle to the west," Dave added. "We can reach that track in the grass left by the Falangists if we go north, then turn back toward the southwest. From that point on, we can go straight to wherever it is they came from."
"It's a no-sweater," Mike assured the senior chief.
"Right," Dawkins said. He spoke into the LASH micro-phone. "Team leaders, get your guys up. We're moving out."
The section began a circuitous march, easing north to avoid the village and its cattle. The going was easy, but need for intense alertness and continuous observation slowed the speed of the trek down to only a little faster than a crawl. The Falangists could be anywhere in the area, and they had already shown a disturbing propensity for sending out patrols. An hour and a half passed before the SEALs came across the trails left by the enemy. At that point, the distance between each man was increased, and the Odd Couple moved out on the point some twenty-five meters from the column.
.
OUTSIDE THE FALANGIST GARRISON
1400 HOURS LOCAL
MIKE Assad lay against the creek bank that sank a meter and a half into the terrain. He used the grass along the sides of the waterway for cover as he surveyed the enemy camp with his binoculars. Dave Leibowitz was on lookout on the other side of the creek, squatting down with his CAR-15 at the ready.
"Man!" Mike whispered as he watched the activity in the garrison. "Those guys are really chickenshit. I haven't seen so much saluting and drilling since we were up at Camp Pendleton last month."
"They've got a strong European tradition," Dave reminded him. "Remember what Alfredo said back in isolation." He looked behind to check out the area to the rear, then turned back toward the front. "How many guys do they have?"
"I'd say forty or so," Mike said. "That means they outnumber us about two to one."
"That's just this camp," Dave said. "They might have another."
"Hell!" Mike said. "They might have a dozen more. Who knows? Alfredo wasn't even sure." He put away his binoculars and crossed the creek, climbing up to join Dave.
"Mission accomplished! Let's get back to the senior chief and the section. We need to report to the Skipper before dark."
The two scouts moved in crouching positions as they hurried across the savannah toward the spot where Dawkins and the Second Assault Section waited for them.
Chapter 5
SEAL BIVOUAC
BIG CREEK
4 DECEMBER
1500 HOURS LOCAL
EVERYONE'S BDUs were sweat-soake
d and grass-stained from days of wear. The high afternoon temperature was compounded by the heavy humidity, and while the SEALs perspired heavily, it did little to cool them since it couldn't evaporate in the steamy atmosphere. Some of the sweating might have come from nerves; this was a combat mission briefing. Apprehension is an emotional characteristic that affects both the mind and body even among the military elite.
The Odd Couple along with the section commanders, SAW gunners, and team leaders were sprawled on the grass in front of Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan. Chad Murchison, standing CP watch, stood off to one side listening. The rest of the detachment was out on security, enduring the discomfort of a bright, burning sun in the treeless and consequently shadeless terrain. Everyone was wishing for rain, even though it would offer no more than temporary relief before adding to the steamy discomfort.