The New Breed

by W. E. B Griffin

  The New Breed

  BoW 07

  Griffin, W.E.B.

  BROTHERHOOD OF WAR - New Breed

  (One)

  The White HouseWashington,D.C. 12 December 1963

  Lyndon Baines Johnson, the President Of the United, States, was sitting on a small couch in the Oval Office. Following the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy twenty days before, Johnson had acceded to the presidency. This was enough time for Johnson to grow to like what he was doing. The President was holding a squat glass dark withKentucky sour mash bourbon whiskey. He had removed his jacket, revealing that he held up his trousers with suspenders. And he had draped his arm on the back of the couch and his right leg on the cushion.

  Walter Cronkite, reporting the "Evening news," spoke of events that caused the President of theUnited States to shake his head and mutter an obscenity. And then the CBS Broadcasting System paused for the delivery of a commercial message.

  As the President raised his bourbon to his mouth, the door to the Oval Office opened.

  "Colonel Felter, 'Sir,'" the President's secretary announced"

  She had been watching the CBS news on a small television in her office, not so much in order to pay attention to the news but to watch for a commercial. The president would prefer not to be interrupted while the news was on the screen. The President looked over his shoulder at the open door.

  An Army officer stood there almost but not quite at attention.

  He wore a green uniform and his leather brimmed cap was under his left arm. Silver colonel's eagles were on his epaulets; a Combat Infantry Badge was over his breast pocket;, beneath that were the wings of a parachutist; and below those were four rows of colored ribbons, three ribbons to a row. There was another set of parachutist's wings (which the President correctly guessed to be French) on the other breast pocket, together with the American and Korean Presidential Unit Citations. Below the pocket was the insignia which indicated the wearer had completed a tour of duty with the General Staff Corps of the United States Army.

  The Colonel stood five feet seven-inches tall, was in an advanced stage of male pattern baldness, and weighed 148 pounds.

  He was carrying an attache case. It was obviously well traveled, and in several places the leather had been gouged and torn, exposing the aluminum under the leather.

  It was the first time the President had ever seen Colonel Sanford T. Felter in uniform. When Kennedy became president, Johnson had noticed Felter now and again around the White House, but had then dismissed him as just one more baggy-suited intellectual, a specialist of some kind on the outer edges of Jack Kennedy's staff. But he had soon sensed there was more to Felter than what showed. Felter was more even than just another soldier "loaned" to the White House by the Defense Department. For one thing, Bobby Kennedy hated Felter's ass-as only Bobby Kennedy could hate anyone's ass; and that meant that Felter had to have Jack Kennedy's protection. Otherwise he would have been long gone.

  When Johnson finally had a chance to ask Jack Kennedy what Felter did, the President had smiled and said he "runs errands for me," which was the same thing as saying, "None of your fucking business, Lyndon." This had not been the first question asked by the Vice President of theUnited States that the President had chosen not to answer.

  It was only afterDallas and the funeral that Johnson had learned what kind of errands Colonel Felter had run for the President of theUnited States .

  "I'll be damned," the President said when Felter's presence had sunk in. Then he raised his voice: "Come in, Felter. Help yourself to a drink."

  "Good evening, Mr. President," Colonel Felter said and came into the room.

  "Help yourself," the President repeated," It's over there. You'll remember where." Felter filled a glass with ice cubes and then poured it half full of vodka.

  "What is that a martini?" the President asked, a hint of disapproval in his Texas-accented voice.

  "No, Sir," Colonel Felter said," Vodka over ice."

  "A drink ought to have color in it," the President said, shaking his massive head," But go ahead. Sit," he ordered, indicating the matching chair beside his couch.

  "Thank" you, sir," Colonel Felter said.

  A quartet of men in service station, uniforms finished. their vocal entreaty to CBS's viewers to trust their Cars to the men who wore, Texaco Stars. Then Walter Cronkite's face reappeared on the screen.

  Finally he announced, "And that's the way it is."

  The President picked up a remote-control device and aimed it at the television screen as if it were a pistol intended to shoot the head off a rattlesnake. The screen went blank.

  The President stood up and Felter started to do the same.

  "Keep your, seat the president said," I can pour my own drink."

  "Yes, Sir," Colonel Felter said.

  "The reason I'm alone in here, Felter," the President said, "is that most people feel they have, to say something whenever Cronkite pauses for breath. And if I watch it upstairs, Mrs. Johnson feels she has to say something to keep me from getting bored."

  "Yes, .,sir, "Colonel Felter said.

  "Unless you want another drink," the President said as an afterthought.

  "Thank you, Sir," Felter said, and got up and walked to the bar and poured more vodka over his ice.

  "You like the way that tastes'?" the President asked dubiously.

  "I don't like the way any of it tastes, Sir," Felter said.

  The President laughed.

  "You just want a little liquid courage, is that it?"

  "Yes, Sir. More or less."

  "I scare you, do I?"

  "No, Sir."

  "Does the Attorney General scare you, Felter?"

  "No, Sir."

  "I suppose you've suspected he doesn't like you?"

  "I have that feeling, yes, Sir" Felter said."

  "Story going around is that President Kennedy, with just the three of you here, told Little Bobby that the reason he had it in for you was that you were smarter than him, and that the both of you knew it. True story?"

  "Essentially, Sir," Felter said," Secretary Rusk was also present, Sir."

  "Why did you wait until now to come home, Felter? Why didn't you hop on the next plane out of Saigon when the thing inDallas happened?"

  "I hadn't completed my mission, Sir," Felter said.

  "That's it? It wasn't that you didn't want to get splattered when the shit hit the fan around here?"

  "I presumed, Sir, in the absence of orders from you to the contrary, that I was to complete the mission that President Kennedy had given me."

  "And 1 guess you have? You're back."

  "Yes, Mr. President."

  "Everybody-around here is-or pretends to, be-a little vague about what you were'-doing over there, Felter."

  "I have my reports, Sir," Felter said. He laid the attache case on the coffee table, worked its two combination locks, and opened it. He took two envelopes from it, one letter size and the other a large manila envelope. He handed the smaller" envelope to the President.

  "That's what I was able to find out about the death of President Ngo Dinh Diem, Sir," Felter said," I thought you would prefer to see that first." The President ripped open the envelope put half glasses on the edge of his nose and read the first couple of lines.

  Then he raised his eyes to Felter," I thought maybe that was it, "the President said, "that he sent you over there to see who really shot who and why."

  Felter nodded but said nothing.

  "So what have you got to tell me about the can of worms inVietnam ?" the President said, making a "come-on" gesture with his left hand.

  "On 1 November 1963, Mr. President," Felter said, "the Presidential Palace inSaigon was surrounded by troops unfriendly to President Ngo Dinh
Diem. After the President discovered he was unable to contact Colonel Nomg, the commander of the troops charged with his protection, he realized that he was insubstantial danger of being deposed in a military coup. He and his brother, Ngo Dinh Nhu, then escaped from the palace by secret tunnel. I believe it was their intention to reach a parachute regiment, whose commander he believed to be loyal to him;, but he was unable to do so. He arid his brother then took refuge in a private villa. The next day, 2 November, Colonel Nomg, accompanied by a body of troops, came to the villa and offered the Diems protective custody until such time as either the coup could be, controlled or that there was no question that it had succeeded In the latter case, Nomg guaranteed Diem safe passage out of the country. He offered an APC-"

  "A what?"

  "An M-113 armored personnel carrier. It is a tracked vehicle that looks much like a tank-"

  "Go on," the President interrupted again impatiently.

  "Colonel Nomg offered the President and his brother the APC and a detachment of troops to take them to the barracks of the parachute regiment," Felter went on, "They accepted. Shortly after leaving the villa, the rear door of the APC was opened,.. and the President and his brother were assassinated. They were shot to death."

  "This Colonel Whatsisname betrayed them, in other words?"

  "Colonel Nomg was acting under orders, Mr. President," Felter said," My report offers several possible scenarios as to who issued those orders, and for what reasons. There is, of course, no proof." The President dropped his eyes to Felter's report and read it through. Twice, his bushy eyebrows rose in obvious surprise.

  Finally, he looked at Felter again, over the half glasses. "So, according to this, we don't know who the fuck is in charge over there inNam . But whoever it is, it not our...guy."

  "No, Sir."

  "Goddamn. Where I came from, when we buy some politician he stays bought."

  "Things are a bit different inSaigon , Sir."

  "And you're also telling me Bobby Kennedy didn't know why Jack Kennedy sent you over there?"

  "There have been missions about which I believe President Kennedy kept his own confidence, Mr. President;" Felter replied," Very possibly this is one of them."

  "What about you, Felter? Who do you share your knowledge with? Who has seen this?" He waved the report.

  "There is one copy, Sir," Felter said," You have it. None else has seen it." The President folded the four sheets of paper and put them back into the envelope," No one else will, Felter," the President said," This report doesn't exist. You read me loud and clear?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Who typed this?" the President said, suddenly suspicious.

  "I did, Sir. And the ribbon has been burned."

  "OK. I heard you were very good at what you do. I guess you are."

  "Thank you, Mr. President," Felter said.

  The President chuckled.

  "I'm almost afraid to ask," he said, nodding at the chick manila envelope, "but what's that?"

  "My report on the situation inSouthwest Africa , Sir. I was there before I went toSouth Vietnam ."

  "You do get around, don't you, Colonel?" the President said, and gestured for the envelope. When Felter Handed-it to him, he tore it open and took out a nearly inch-thick stack of paper, bound together with a metal fastener," Don't tell me you typed all this by yourself?"

  "No" Sir," Felter said~ "I have a very good secretary."

  "Then I can, presume this isn't as dangerous as the other one?" Johnson said and, started to flip through it," Christ, I'm not going to read all this tonight!"

  Felter started to speak, then changed his mind. The President's eye's, flashed at him," Go ahead" he said;

  "Sir, it is my judgment that, the situation in theCongo is potentially as dangerous to theUnited States as the situation inVietnam ."

  "I, doubt that." the President said.

  "May I speak freely, Sir?"

  "As long as you're quick," the President "said with-a smile, holding up the thick and heavy report.

  Felter thought a moment before speaking.

  "General MacArthur's belief that we should not get involved in a war on the Asian Land Mass is being frequently quoted these days," Felter said," I believe he would say the same thing about Southern Africa or, for that matter, specifically about the Congo, and for much the same reasons."

  "Well, so what? I don't think anyone is thinking about Our getting into a war inAfrica ." Felter did not reply.

  "Speak your mind, damn it!"

  "I believe there is a very real possibility, Mr. President, that the well-intentioned granting of independence to the African nations, especially to theCongo , may result in a chaotic situation which our adversaries, especially, the Chinese communists, are prepared to exploit. I believe, Sir, that the Chinese are in fact very actively engaged in creating that chaos, and that their efforts will intensify as they come to believe they can succeed. I believe their first major effort will be directed against the ex -Belgian Congo."

  "Like how?"

  "An army of liberation," Felter said," Supplied and controlled by them, and directed against a government almost pathetically unprepared to cope with such a threat. And the last of the United Nations troops, as ineffective as they are, will leave theCongo 30 June."

  "Pathetically?"

  "There were thirty college graduates in all of the Congo before independence, Mr. President," Felter said," The previous military experience of Colonel Mobutu, who heads their military, was a corporal in the Force Publique, a paramilitary Belgian officered police force."

  "That's not what I hear from State and the CIA," the President said sharply. He looked at Felter, coldly thoughtful, for a long moment," You sound like Senator Goldwater, I suppose "you know?"

  "I don't know what you mean, Sir."

  "He gave a speech where he said the first thing he would do if he were President-and he's going to get the nomination, you can bet your ass on that-he said the first order he would give as President would be to our people in the Congo: 'Change sides.' You didn't pick up on that?"

  "I've been out of the country, Sir."

  "Yeah, sure. Well, nobody ever accused Barry GoldWater, of being stupid. I guess I'm just going to have to find out for myself what the hell is going on over there." He went to the whiskey and half filled his glass.

  "You know, Colonel," the President said, turning to Felter, "this is the first time I've ever seen you in your uniform. Not that I'm not impressed with all your decorations, but you could have saved the effort. Yours was one of the first dossiers I told Mr. Hoover to fetch for me."

  "I presumed, Sir, that on President Kennedy's death, or certainly on my return fromSaigon- "

  "That you'd go back to the Army?" the President interrupted.

  "You want to go? Is that what the uniform and all your medals is all about?"

  "I had hoped that I might be given a command, Mr. President," Colonel Felter said," I'm eligible for one."

  "You're supposed to be smart. That doesn't sound like it. There's a lot of people in the Army, hell, all over the Pentagon, who hate your ass. They're not going to give you a command, Felter. They'd send you to some forgotten fort inArkansas and bury you until you got the message and retired."

  "I was gathering my courage, Mr. President, to ask you for a recommendation," Colonel Felter said.

  "With the vodka?" the President chuckled.

  "I've never asked for a favor before, Sir."

  "Then you're the only sonofabitch around here who hasn't. What kind of favor?"

  "Mr. President, there is a program in the Army, because of a shortage of senior officers, where officers of my grade are being sent to flight school."

  "What makes you think they'd have you? That they don't hate your ass?"

  "Sir, Major General Bellmon commands theAviationCenter atFortRucker . He and I are old friends."

  "How can he afford you as a friend? General Taylor, when I asked him about you, said they hate your ass so much
in the Pentagon that the President had to send your name to the Senate for promotion to colonel by himself; they weren't going to do it."

  "Sir, during War Two General Bellmon was a POW. I was privileged to be with the unit which liberated him."

  "According to Max Taylor, it was the Russians you liberated him from, not the Germans.Taylor told me you found where the Russians had him," the President said, "and then led the rescue column that went after him. If it wasn't for you, Bellmon would be inSiberia someplace cutting trees down with a dull ax." Felter didn't reply.