by Jack Terral
"What about that guy I threw over the hors d'oeuvre table?"
She grinned. "I'll admit I was upset about that when it happened. So was everybody else. But we talked about it the next day and everyone agreed he had it coming. The guy's an asshole, Bill. He's an egotistical son of a bitch with a big mouth who's full of himself. You taught him a pretty good lesson." Now she laughed out loud. "God! He looked so fucking stupid with that food all over him."
"I can't remember what he said, but it really pissed me off," Brannigan said. He stretched contentedly. "Anyhow, I'm a lot wiser after those fly guys gave us a hand. My sophomoric attitude toward other branches of the service is fading away. Hell! Everyone does his bit, as our friends the British say. Without each part the whole would fail."
"That's quite a statement coming from a SEAL," Lisa remarked.
"I'll make you a promise," he said. "I'm going to make an extra special effort to be nice to your friends at the squadron functions."
"I'm going to hold you to that," Lisa said, nudging him. "But the next time I'm at a SEAL party, I'm going to throw one of your guys over the hors d'oeuvre table to get even."
Brannigan chuckled. "Do it to Senior Chief Dawkins, okay?"
.
BASE CHAPEL
NAVAL AMPHIBIOUS BASE
CORONADO'S, CALIFORNIA
17 SEPTEMBER
1030 HOURS LOCAL
A table draped with bunting had been placed in front of the altar. Photographs of Petty Officer First Class Adam Clifford and Petty Officer Third Class Kevin Albee had been set up on it along with two display boards. Each bore the awards, decorations and qualification badges the two SEALs had earned in training and combat.
The pews in the small building were completely filled. The survivors of Brannigan's Brigands sat along the front. The wives of Lieutenant Bill Brannigan, Petty Officer Michael Concord, Petty Officer Frank Gomez, and Petty Officer Gutsy Olson were among the group. Salty and Dixie Donovan; Commander Thomas Carey, N3 operations officer; Lieutenant Commander Ernest Berringer, N2 intelligence officer, and other personnel and families of the base SEAL teams filled the rest of the seats. The chaplain had just finished his invoca, tion and opening prayers, and now Brannigan walked to the front of the small room. He turned to face the audience.
"We're here this morning to say farewell to our shipmates Adam Clifford and Kevin Albee. They have given their lives in the service of their country, making that most unselfish of all sacrifices that so many fine men and women of the United States Navy have done over countless wars and conflicts in American history. Petty Officer Clifford, as many of you know, spent his boyhood in the nation's capital, where his father served in the Justice Department as a federal attorney. Cliff was a career Navy man, having shipped over for the second time just before his last mission. He was a good man, quiet and steady, who was always at the forefront of the action. He'll be sorely missed by the platoon, and the world is a little poorer now without his presence.
"Petty Officer Kevin Albee demonstrated the unlimited devotion he had for the service when he died risking his life to save his comrades. Without any regard for his own personal safety, he exposed himself to shoot down an enemy helicopter gunship that was strafing our positions on West Ridge. He was killed in this effort that was truly beyond and above the call of duty. I submitted his name for an award of the Silver Star, and I'm happy to report that earlier this morning I received word that this posthumous award has been approved by the Department of the Navy.
"I, as their commanding officer, am saddened by the loss of those brave men. My grief is eased somewhat by the pride I have from serving with them and other fine men of the United States Navy's SEALs. For that honor I shall be eternally grateful."
Brannigan ended his discourse and went back to his place beside Lisa. Lisa, wearing the service dress blue uniform of her rank, reached over and took her husband's hand.
Next, Cliff and Kevin's two fire team leaders, Lieutenant James Cruiser and Chief Matthew Gunnarson, came up together, and each made additional remarks in regards to two fine shipmates who gave their lives so far away from their native land while serving and protecting their people.
The memorial ceremony continued with further eulogies from members of the platoon. When everyone had had a chance to express his sense of loss, the chaplain brought the event to a close with a final prayer and a blessing to the congregation.
Now, with the final honors having been bestowed on fallen comrades, it was time for Brannigan's Brigands to return to duty.
.
FOULED ANCHOR TAVERN CORONADO, CALIFORNIA 2145 H0URS LOCAL
A few of Brannigan's Brigands gathered at the tavern for what they termed an After Action Wrap-Up, not realizing they were establishing a tradition that would continue as long as the platoon was carried on the active rolls of the United States Navy.
They pushed a couple of tables together at the rear of the place, and the Odd Couple, Milly Mills, Joe Miskoski, Bruno Puglisi, James Bradley and Chad Murchison were joined by Salty Donovan for an evening of beer drinking. The absent members of the Brigands were all the married men who were home with their wives and children.
The exceptions were bachelors Senior Chief Buford Dawkins and Chief Matt Gunnarson, who were hotly pursuing a couple of middle-aged cuties they had met in a Chula Vista bar. Lieutenant Jim Cruiser was living up to his surname by cruising the North Island officers' club for available single women.
Dixie, holding two pitchers by the handles in each of her hands, set the four servings on the table. She had already cried herself out over Kevin and Cliff, and was ready to get on with her life, as were the members of the platoon. She stepped back and gazed down at them. "It looks like Brannigan's Brigands have worked their way into a shipshape outfit."
"Yes, ma'am!" Mike Assad said. "I think we were functioning really good together from the moment our boots touched down on the DZ over there in Afghanistan."
"Yeah," his buddy Dave Leibowitz agreed. "We're ready to take on whatever the Navy throws at us."
James Bradley raised his glass. "Here's to what the future holds for Brannigan's Brigands."
Chad Murchison stood up a bit drunkenly, holding his beer up for a toast. "Allow me to quote some lines written by the poet George Banks. He wrote it a long time ago, but it pertains to us in every way:
For the cause that lacks assistance, For the wrong that needs resistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do.
"That was most profound, Chad," James said.
"Yeah," Bruno agreed. "What was that guy's name again?"
"George Banks," Chad replied.
"No shit?" Joe Miskoski said. "What platoon is he in?"
EPILOGUE:
STATE DEPARTMENT
WASHINGTON, D. C.
15 NOVEMBER
0945 HOURS LOCAL
THE three South American diplomats sat in sullen silence at one end of the large conference table. Arturo Sanchez of Bolivia, Patricio Ludendorff of Chile and Luis Bonicelli of Argentina were special envoys from their respective governments. Their mission to the American State Department was one of extreme sensitivity and confidentiality. It was of the utmost importance that the subject to be discussed that day not be revealed to the outside world, particularly to the populations of the emissaries' home countries. Revelations of the conference would cause untold embarrassment to all concerned, not to mention instigating a trio of the bloodiest revolutions in the history of Latin America.
The door to the room opened, and the trio of South Americans snapped their eyes over in that direction. Carl Joplin, PhD, an American undersecretary of state, joined them, taking a seat at the head of the table. "Good morning, gentlemen. Or should I say, 'Buenos dias, caballeros'?"
The three visitors smiled slightly in a subdued manner of greeting.
"I was most surprised to hear from all three of you at the same time," Joplin said. "It is hard to imagine what situation would have brought Argentina, Chi
le and Bolivia together in what appears to be a common cause."
"Then you realize that only the gravest of circumstances would have brought about this event that you find so electrifying," Ludendorff said.
"Frankly," Joplin said, "I must admit that at this moment I am more than just a little apprehensive. Your grim demeanors do nothing to allay my uneasiness." He leaned back in his chair. "I believe it is obvious that since I know nothing of your mission, I am unable to officially open this diplomatic session in which no agenda has been introduced." He smiled. "Would one of you gentleman kindly do the honors?"
Bonicelli spoke up in the realization that he and his two companions would have to start the ball rolling. "It begins with a fascist Spaniard by the name of Jose Maria de Castillo y Plato."
"Ah!" Joplin exclaimed. "The Far Right enters the picture, hey? I am very familiar with Don Jose Maria and his political background. It appears you are having problems with neo-Nazis in your particular necks of the woods. Is this the case?"
"Not neo-Nazis in the strictest interpretation of the term," Sanchez said. "In this case it is Falangistas, Dr. Joplin. El senor Castillo y Plato is a wealthy Spanish officer who had always dreamed of reestablishing a right wing dictatorship in his country. We believe his regime would be even more draconian than that of el Generalisimo Francisco Franco."
"A moment please," Joplin said. "As I recall the Falangists were the political party that ran Spain under Franco:'
"The same," Ludendorff said. "And since Castillo cannot realize his dream in Spain, he has chosen to establish a new fascist country he is calling Falangia. He has chosen South America for this dubious honor. To be more precise, he wishes to do this in an area where Argentina, Chile and Bolivia come together?'
Joplin shrugged. "This is pretty far-fetched, is it not? The whole concept is preposterous."
Sanchez shook his head. "I beg to strongly disagree, sir! Castillo has taken dissident officers and noncommissioned officers of the armed forces of the three countries into his movement. They have looted entire garrisons to get the material and weaponry they need. They are now well equipped, armed and have begun making raids against isolated military posts in the area. These Falangistas have hidden camps in the jungles and river country of the territories they occupy. The populations living there are under their command and control."
"I would think," Joplin said, "that if you sent the armies of your nations against these rebels, you could easily crush them."
Ludendorff looked at his two companions, then turned a sad expression on Joplin. "The Latin-American military has always been fond of political adventuring. Consequently, we do not know who to trust in our armed forces. We require outsiders to rid us of this problem."
"To be more precise," Bonicelli said, "the situation requires fuerzas especiales--special forces to defeat the Falangistas."
"Let's speak plainly, gentlemen," Joplin said. "You are requesting American military assistance in battling and destroying these fascist revolutionaries, are you not?"
"Precisely," Ludendorff said.
"Then we should get to the specifics and requirements of the situation," Joplin insisted. "Without a detailed analysis of our adversaries, I cannot forward your request to my government."
"As of the moment," Ludendorff said, "they are no more than a detachment."
"A detachment is an ambiguous military term," Joplin said. "It is impossible to determine the makeup of such an organization?'
Sanchez sighed. "We do not know their exact numbers, Dr. Joplin. But they have the potential of growing strongermucho mas fuerte!"
"I see," Joplin said. "In that case, I must insist that you pass on to me all the intelligence you have on these fascists. I cannot possibly bring this matter up with my government with no more than sketchy details."
All three South Americans reached under the table for their briefcases crammed with data. Now they could get down to business.
.
GLOSSARY
2IC: Second in Command
AA: Anti-Aircraft
AFSOC: Air Force Special Operations Command
AGL: Above Ground Level
AKA: Also Known As
ARG: Amphibious Ready Group
ASAP: As Soon As Possible
ASL: Above Sea Level
AT-4: Anti-armor rocket launchers
Attack Board (also Compass Board): A board with a compass, watch and depth gauge used by sub-surface swimmers
BOQ: Bachelor Officers' Quarters
Briefback: A briefing given to staff by a SEAL platoon regarding their assigned mission. This must be approved before it is implemented.
BDU: Battle Dress Uniform
BUD/S: Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL training course
C4: Plastic explosive
CAR-15: Compact model of the M-16 rifle
CATF: Commander, Amphibious Task Force
CNO: Chief of Naval Operations
CO: Commanding Officer
Cover: Hat, headgear
CP: Command Post
CPU: Computer Processing Unit
CPX: Command Post Exercise
CRRC: Combat Rubber Raiding Craft
CS: Tear gas
CSAR: Combat Search and Rescue
CVBG: Carrier Battle Group
DPV: Desert Patrol Vehicle
Det Cord: Detonating cord
Draeger Mk V: Underwater air supply equipment
DZ: Drop Zone
E&E: Escape and Evasion
FLIR: Forward Looking Infrared Radar
MC: Field Training Exercise
GPS: Global Positioning System
H&K MP-5: Heckler & Koch MP-5 submachine gun
HAHO: High Altitude High Opening parachute jump
HALO: High Altitude Low Opening parachute jump
HE: High Explosive
Head: Navy and Marine Corps term for toilet; called a latrine in the Army
HSB: High Speed Boat
JSOC: Joint Special Operation Command
K-Bar: A brand of knives manufactured for military and camping purposes
MA: Killed In Action
LBE: Load Bearing Equipment
LSSC: Light SEAL Support Craft
Light Sticks: Flexible plastic tubes that illuminate
Limpet Mine: An explosive mine that is attached to the hulls of vessels
LZ: Landing Zone
M-18 Claymore Mine: A mine fired electrically with a blasting cap
M-60 E3: A compact model of the M-60 machine gun
M-67: An anti-personnel grenade
M-203: A single-shot 40-millimeter grenade launcher
MATC: A fast river support craft
MCPO: Master Chief Petty Officer
Medevac: Medical Evacuation
Mk-138 Satchel Charge: Canvas container filled with explosive
MRE: Meal, Ready to Eat
MSSC: Medium SEAL Support Craft
NAS: Naval Air Station
Intelligence staff
Operations staff
NAVSPECWAR: Naval Special Warfare
NCP: Navy College Program
NFL: National Football League
NVG: Night Vision Goggles
OA: Operational Area
OER: Officer's Efficiency Report
OP: Observation Post
OPLAN: Operations Plan. This is the preliminary form of an OPORD.
OPORD: Operations Order. This is the directive derived from the OPLAN of how an operation is to be carried out. It's pretty much etched in stone.
PBL: Patrol Boat, Light
PC: Patrol Coastal vessel
PDQ: Pretty Damn Quick
PLF: Parachute Landing Fall
PO: Petty Officer (e. G., PO1C is Petty Officer First Class)
PT: Physical Training
RIB: Rigid Inflatable Boat
RPG: Rocket Propelled Grenade
RPM: Revolutions Per Minute
RTO: Radio Telephone Operator
SCPO: Senior Chief
Petty Officer
SDV: Seal Delivery Vehicle
SERE: Survival, Escape, Resistance and Evasion
SITREP: Situation Report
SOCOM: Special Operations Command
SOF: Special Operations Force
SOLS: Special Operations Liaison Staff
SOP: Standard Operating Procedures
SPECOPS: Special Operations
Special Boat Squadrons: Units that participate in SEAL missions
SPECWARCOM: Special Warfare Command
UN: United Nations
Watch Bill: a list of personnel and stations for the watch
WIA: Wounded in Action
FB2 document info
Document ID: 7ef86545-b397-42fa-bb63-4b085ca92a8c
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 14.9.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.67, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Jack Terral
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