The Worth of Souls

by T. Martin O’Neil

  Time and time again the Triads paid informants on the police departments large sums of money, favors or just plain blackmailed them to discover how the drugs were discovered. So far, the plan was working and the good guys were winning that battle. Nothing had been revealed or exposed; so far.

  The insertion operations were conducted by Special Operations Teams from all branches, but Navy Special Operations Teams seemed to get more than their share up near the borders of the Golden Triangle in China, Laos and Burma.

  Frequently the teams would live for several months in the general vicinity of the processing sites waiting for the “right time.” The extended time in the field meant no contact with families for months or until their transmitter supply was exhausted. Usually, a team had about 25 transmitters. Some were broken from the start; a casualty of the hot humid tropical climate. It also reflected the philosophy of awarding the contract to the lowest bidder. However, most worked and were used, meaning they were inserted into the bales. Each had to be checked prior to field use which required a receiver that was tuned to those frequencies to test their operational state. 25 individual frequencies meant a receiver that covered the full range of frequencies. Some day, it was rumored, this piece of equipment would fit in the palm of your hand and not take up half of the pack.

  The teams often stayed with local Hmong villages sympathetic to the U.S. The Hmong fought to counter the drug scourge as well as the rampages of the Pathet Lao, Viet Cong or rogue Chinese People’s Liberation Army units. In addition to the drug trade, human trafficking was occasionally exposed; children stolen from families and villages and sold for use as sex slaves to brothels or occasionally as household servants. Certain classes of children were chosen for sale all around the world. Most, however, were just kids that were at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

  The Hmong villages closest to the processing sites were often chosen first for the jump-off locations. The Hmong were very hospitable hosts and truly appreciated the help and support of the SEALS as well as the U.S. They reciprocated with guides, accommodations and supplies to the men. The SEALS, while not going “native,” enjoyed the living conditions and help of the Hmong. The real value to the SEALS was the stability knowing they would be welcome.

  Kevin and several SEAL Team members became well-liked among the Hmong. The Hmong hated the North Vietnamese, the Viet Cong as well as the communist guerrilla Pathet Lao. Many times, the Pathet Lao would enter Hmong villages and burn or kill Hmong men, taking their wives and daughters from old women down to children as young as 5 and 6 and cruelly abuse them; then, kill the women and sell the children. The North Vietnamese and Viet Cong did the same and went so far as to deploy Russian and Chinese chemical agents and gas to kill off villagers. Very few Hmong villages had not been touched by these abusive tactics.

  The Hmong, as an Asian culture, originated in the Mongolian steppes, but had been persecuted for centuries by the various Chinese dynasties, forcing them farther south into southern China, Laos, Vietnam, Thailand and Cambodia. The people they encountered in these countries at first welcomed them, however due to the close familial relationships the Hmong did their best to avoid intermingling with indigenous people and resisted the originally peaceful new neighbors. Rather than mixing and diluting their families and customs, the Hmong chose to remain apart from the local people. The real difficulty with the Hmong, as the enemy would say, was that the Hmong were family centered. This way, outsiders could not infiltrate their villages short of killing them all.

  Hmong customs included the practice of polygamy. It was their custom that men who had a wife who could not bear a son would take another wife to fulfill that duty. This caused some interesting complications among some of the American men who had difficulty understanding this concept. Interest in females that were already married sometimes had odd complications.

  Kevin, however, resisted the urges of fraternization and thus remained friendly, but aloof. He’d been adopted by the Vang clan. There were some 19 separately identifiable clans and with sub-clans the total reached about 32. Kevin was treated in every way like one of the family when they were in the villages. Best of all, he felt comfortable and at home.

  Returning to the world of the Hmong for extended periods of time was frequently looked upon as a time of enjoyment by the returning SEALS and one of semi-frustration by the new members of the team. Marks knew this as did the Commanding Officer (CO) LCDR Randy Rogers. Each of the returning members of the team would always place bets on who would be the ones to need counseling about fraternization with the locals. It was light-hearted jesting, but had a very serious undertone; they had to keep the Hmong friendly to the U.S.

  Often, arms, ammunition and explosives (AA&E) would be air-dropped to the villages as well as requested medical supplies and even occasional supplies of food. All with the intent of keeping the Hmong as allies. Many of the stricken pilots and crew members of downed aircraft were rescued by Hmong villagers. This paid huge dividends and warranted cash rewards. Again, keeping the villagers friendly towards the U.S.

  Chapter 3

  The SEALS Return

  Ten members of SEAL Team One, Det B, plus LT Marks headed up the Mekong River toward Vientiane, Laos. Their mode of transportation were the larger, heavily armored riverine craft nicknamed Monitors after the Civil War armored gunboats. These craft often made trips up the Mekong River with the primary role of gathering intelligence concerning the use of sections of the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

  Firefights frequently erupted as they forged upstream. The fact they were in heavily armored boats did little to assure them of real safety. An RPG-2 striking a boat would often send men and equipment home in pieces or body bags.

  The two craft used here were later versions of the Monitor called the Monitor (H) or Hotel and Monitor (F) or Foxtrot. The Hotel model had a 105mm howitzer and the Foxtrot model had 2 flame throwers that could launch napalm over 200 yards. These specialized armaments plus M-79 grenade launchers, 20mm cannons, 50-caliber machine guns and M-60 machine guns made for a serious fighting platform. They also had over 10 tons of armor plating. Anyone dumb enough to attack them clearly was without much sense.

  The river, like any river in the world, had its own sub-culture. It reminded Marks of the bayou areas of northern Florida, southern Alabama and Mississippi as well as the swamps around one of his favorite visiting sites, New Orleans. One felt a richness of the culture and people even if there were no outward signs of wealth. They had a warmth that enveloped you with love and kindness. That is, unless you were their enemy. Then, they were as far opposite on the emotional scale as could be expected. They were fiercely protective of their homes. Sometimes this led to hot firefights and battles against the Viet Cong or the North Vietnamese Army who invaded these villages and killed the villagers and leaders. In the leadership vacuum, the communists placed their own leaders to run the village. Villagers were held hostage unless they would fire on the riverine craft.

  Foods were unique to each area. Whether soups made of fish and other critters or large pit-cooked reptiles or animals, the river folks seemed to enjoy the fellowship of fellow river dwellers and gift-bearing visitors. Those of the military who endeared themselves to locals by using respect were treated favorably as well. SEALS had more than once saved villages from Viet Cong, North Vietnamese Army, Khmer Rouge (primarily in Cambodia) and Pathet Lao (in Laos) from the death and destruction of these merchants of discord and death.

  The river was a broad spectrum of smells from dead and rotting corpses of humans, animals and fish, rotting vegetation, human and animal excrement to flowers and freshly cut vegetation. The sure-fire way to know if it would be a good smell ahead was to watch for flies. Hordes of flies almost always meant smells of death which would assault the nose. The river moved slowly enough that much of the silt remained suspended causing it to be a brownish gray color. Even on clear days when the sky should reflect its blue color and clouds on the water, the river remained dirty-looking.
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br />   LT Marks and LCDR Rogers watched as the water miles passed The sailors rigged an awning shelter on the after-deck. The M-2, Ma Deuces, .50-cal Browning machine guns, while a great deterrent did not ensure complete safety. There always seemed to be a new kid on the North Vietnamese block that wanted to make a name for himself by starting a fight. Several mortar rounds from the Monitors as well as M-60 and M-2 machine guns frequently forced tactical retreats from the North Vietnamese soldiers and Viet Cong guerrillas. The flamethrowers and howitzer still had yet to be used. Spoke knew, if needed, there would be a lot of bang and a lot of dead.

  “Spoke” was LT Marks’ nickname. He gained it when he walked into the front office of CINCPACFLT one day with his young son. The Admiral heard this new small voice in the outer office and came out to investigate who the new recruit was. As he came through the door leading to his office he beheld a young man standing tall with his dad’s garrison hat on his head cocked at a rakish angle and demonstrating a significant swagger. All who saw him smiled in response to the short new officer. The Admiral bent down and asked who he was and what his dad did with the Navy. Without missing a beat, he replied “Kevin, Sir, and my dad’s a Spoke.” Meaning a Spook, or Intelligence Officer, the name stuck. “Spoke” it was from then on.

  LCDR Rogers also had an interesting nickname; “Bee.” Coming from the Midwestern U.S., he’d grown up with the potent clove-flavored chewing gum called Beeman’s. He always seemed to get more of the stuff in his packages from home. He said it always reminded him of home and when he wanted to have good thoughts, he chewed a piece of Beeman’s. Beeman got shortened to plain old Bee.

  Another of the team members was the XO, LT Martin John Swolchowski. His nickname was “Swede.” It was more of a joke than an inside view of his actual job, personality or heritage. Swede was more laid back than many of the other SEALS. His judgment was impeccable which was why he complemented Bee’s more dynamic style of leadership.

  These handles or nicknames were far more important to each man than their own actual names. It demonstrated their individuality and uniqueness to the team. They were a part of the team but they were individuals as well.

  Such thoughts went through Spoke’s mind as he sat in the shade of the tarped area. The boats reflected their individual crews with various amenities created on board rather than from the manufacturer; things like awnings, decorations, or personal use touches down to coffee makers and even toilet paper.

  Because Thailand was an ally, the normal routine was to shade to the Thai side of the river each evening as they proceeded up river. Various villages were “port calls.” Here they would typify the usual riverine patrol nature. Whenever a boat would stop, no operational details were ever revealed.

  Fresh fruit, vegetables and meat were purchased. Local merchants appreciated the visits as did many of those providing navigational services. Unlike the North Vietnamese or the Patet Lao, the U.S. sailors paid for services rendered instead of just taking or stealing them. This was another factoid often omitted by the “objective press” back in the U.S. The claims that Americans were all characters from the popular book of the time, “The Ugly American,” were just not true. They paid their own way and did not kill or steal like the various Communist factions.

  It was late on the third day when all hell broke loose from the Laotian shore off on the starboard side. Being as far north as they were should have meant less of a chance for conflict, but not today. Several rounds of AK-47 fire bounced ineffectually off the sides of the boat. The range must have been 300-yards or more based on the lack of penetration. All hands were summoned to “Battle Stations.” Men crawled up from the protection of the armored cabin and galley. After manning the dual 50-caliber mount, the Monitor’s return fire amounted to less than 20 rounds. It seemed to quiet things down. Again, probably some new kid wanting to make a name for himself instead of trying to achieve a tactical objective.

  The sound of sporatic small arms fire continued for several minutes. Suddenly, an RPG-2 sailed over the top of the lead Monitor. Noting where the smoke trail originated from, two grenades were launched. What followed demonstrated that death and destruction rained down on the attackers. This forced a rapid retreat of the enemy.

  All went eerily quiet. As the echoes of the explosions died down, a few insults were hurled by disembodied voices at the boats and their crews. It was probably best Spoke didn’t understand Vietnamese or Laotian to know what they were saying. No doubt this was intended to reflect the sources of their heritage and genalogy.

  Crews remained on station for about 30 additional minutes and then headed back below to have some chow in the boat’s galley. The Monitors moved away from the Laotian side and shaded the Thai side of the Mekong. Coming around a large bend off the port bow, appeared the village of Phon Phisai. It really was not a little village but a large town. This would be the last stop before Vientiane, Laos.

  The crew was called to battle stations in the event of hostilities. It would not be the first-time insurgents would have crossed the Mekong River and laid a trap for unsuspecting riverine craft.

  Spoke seldom had to remind himself that the only national boundaries observed were observed by the United Nations. North Vietnam, the Viet Cong, the Pathet Lao, the Khmer Rouge all refused to acknowledge the governments in their respective countries or the part the U.N. played by assisting legitimate governments. True, the United States and other U.N. fighting forces had adopted the same manner established by the hostiles, but it was out of pure self-defense. When fighting broke out, the retreating enemy would flee into the non-combatant country and hide there thinking they were impervious to return fire. After the 1968 Tet Offensive of the North Vietnamese, all bets were off regarding harboring enemy fighters. Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time, but officially it was.

  The Monitors moved closer to the town’s piers while assessing the situation. Sometimes, there were hostile forces nearby waiting and watching for unsuspecting riverine boats to become immobile when they were tying up to piers. The enemy forces would open fire on the less than mobile craft. Unfortunately, this caused mayhem and destruction on locals as well; collateral damage. Insurgents didn’t care. It wasn’t their country or livelihood that was at stake. The additional possibility was that villagers were being forced to assume a friendly manner while enemy soldiers were threatening them or their families. Then, when they had the confidence of the Monitor crews, the bad guys would open fire at the boats and crews.

  Spoke watched the looks in the riverine sailors’ eyes. After three days of non-stop searching for those who wanted to hurt and kill them, the sallow but alert eyes reflected Spoke’s feelings also. Back home, anyone who would want to glorify war or the killing of other humans for evil reasons should be forced to face what these men did in response to the call to serve innocents.

  The plan was simple. As the first boat, the F-boat, snuggled up to the pier, SEALS from that craft under the lead of Swede disembarked and moved toward the head of the pier. This permitted the other boat, the H-boat, to come in and tie up abreast, but outboard, of the first one. The thinking was that by rafting them, the outboard boat could quickly move away and cover the other boat as it too moved out into the stream. The F-boat or flamethrower boat could use its napalm to provide time to move the H-boat. Then the H-boat could move into position and fire its 105mm howitzer. This plan ensured safety to both the boats and crews if their respective boats were attacked. Boat engines also remained hot and active. The time ashore would be less than an hour, so little fuel was wasted by keeping the engines hot.

  Bee went ashore to assist Swede in the men’s movements. Once assured of a safe port, a perimeter was established at the head of the pier and would remain manned while the boats continued to be occupied. Several of the remaining crew also provided lookouts for the waterside. Tension seemed to be relieved as a few locals came forward to offer help. Fuel was bargained for and fresh vegetables and meat arranged as well. The senior skipper, another
LT, oversaw the boats. Bee was in charge of the SEALS.

  Everything seemed outwardly well enough. Still, like an unwelcomed blanket on a hot evening, there was an unidentifiable feeling that nagged at Bee and his men. Spoke felt the apprehension as well which seemed to hang like darkness over the waterfront. Something was wrong. After only seven months with the SEALS, Spoke felt many of the same premonitions they felt. There was an issue that could not be directly identified.

  Other civilians were not trading at the market places across from the waterfront. This bazaar should be quite lively at this time of the day. In fact, the usual sounds of daily life were almost completely absent. Normally, men and women were still haggling over prices of daily food. Fresh fish would also be offloaded from fishing boats. Instead of the multiple fuel handlers and stevedores that unloaded returning fishing boats or cargo, there were only a few tentative civilians.

  Bee ordered the Monitor crews to prepare for action and to prepare to get back underway. While it would be excellent to have the fresh vegetables and meat or fish, they had more than enough food to get all the way to Vientiane. The same with fuel. This stop was strictly to show the flag and spread some good will to locals. Unfortunately, this would not be the case today.

  Men overlapped each other as they made their way back to the pier and to the boats thus maintaining clear fields of fire. Once, back on the boats, each crewman moved to their assigned battle stations. There would be no glad-handing or good will demonstrated. Once aboard, the remaining four SEALS carefully moved toward the boats.

  The first Monitor separated itself from its companion and moved away from the pier. In a move similar to what the SEALS had done, the underway boat covered the remaining Monitor as it moved away from the pier.

  As if on cue, small arms fire erupted from warehouses adjacent to the pier. The sharp sound of AK-47’s hammered the late afternoon stillness with their telltale slower automatic gunfire reports compared to the much faster M-14 and M-16 rifles of the SEALS. The distance was about 150-yards and appeared to be focused from one building.