by Tom Clancy
At the commanders’ conference, each commander briefed Stiner on the details of his plan. All of this was generally satisfactory, but Stiner was still uncomfortable with the level of the crew proficiency for executing battalion-size air assaults at night. A program of intensified training was initiated to correct this.
BOMB THREAT
On November 18, word came to General Thurman that the Medellín drug cartel was planning attacks against Americans in Panama in retaliation for U.S. counterdrug assistance in Colombia. The source stated that three car bombs had already been positioned in a Panama City warehouse, ready to be moved to American targets and activated, and that a three-person terrorist team, expert at fabricating false identities and gaining access to U.S. installations, was already operating within Panama. The source providing this information had been given a lie-detector test, and had passed.
“We have no choice,” Thurman said to Stiner. “We have to take that kind of threat seriously. That means you are stood up, my friend”—meaning he was activating Joint Task Force South immediately for its wartime mission. “I will increase the alert status to the maximum for all installations and troops. You’re in charge. So start operating now.”
“Yes, sir, » Stiner replied.
When Thurman told Powell what he had done, Powell was a little bent out of shape; only the SECDEF has authority to activate a Joint Task Force. But Secretary Cheney, recalling the Beirut bombing of U.S. Marines, did not contest Thurman’s action.
Stiner sent his commanders back to their units in the United States to begin rehearsals, but he and his staff remained behind in Panama to oversee the increased security.
Carl Stiner continues:
All U.S. installations were “closed,” checkpoints were manned by armed guards, nothing was admitted without a thorough inspection and proper identification, and SOUTHCOM flew in explosive detection dogs—not enough of them, it turned out, to suit the MPs. They started hollering for more.
“Shit,” I told them, “you don’t need a trained dog, what you need is ‘deterrent’ dogs to spread out among the ones you’ve already got. So get out and catch you some.”
They did, and it was a sight to behold. As the trained dogs were crawling underneath the cars, the deterrent dogs were as often as not hosing down the hubcaps.
All our security measures quickly resulted in virtual gridlock. Traffic lined up to get on installations was sometimes over a mile long.
Meanwhile, our people had located the warehouse where the car bombs had supposedly been placed, and I’d gone to General Thurman to see if he couldn’t get Panama-based FBI or DEA personnel in there to check it out; but it turned out they had no legal authority. Neither was it technically legal to use U.S. military personnel, since a deployment order for a military operation in Panama had not been published by the Secretary of Defense.
We still needed somehow to get into that warehouse, which was guarded twenty-four hours a day by an armed guard. I told Thurman that it would be unconscionable to let one of those bombs explode, and that I would take care of it. The guard agreed to cooperate and willingly unlocked the door. There were no car bombs, and no evidence there ever had been.
The whole thing was a hoax.
On November 27, with approval from Washington, the Joint Task Force was dissolved and I returned home.
The bomb hoax was not a total loss, however. The security measures had turned out to be a good exercise in readiness.
PROVOCATIONS
As units rehearsed their plans in the United States and Panama, the situation in Panama was swiftly deteriorating. Dignity Battalions were increasing their provocations, and Noriega was busy firing up the PDF with machete-waving personal appearances.
Back in the States, Stiner was involved in rehearsals or on the road, making certain that all the major commands from all the services were aware of all the details of the plan and prepared to support their part in the operation.
He made three trips to the Pentagon to brief General Powell, and he also briefed Admiral Frank Kelso, Commander of the U.S. Atlantic Command (who was responsible for providing cover for the airlift armada as it passed Cuba); General Hansford T. Johnson, the Commander of the Military Airlift Command, who would be providing the airlift; General Edwin H. Burba, U.S. Army Forces Command Commander; and General Jim Lindsay, Commander of the U.S. Special Operations Command.
In late November and early December, conventional and special operations forces conducted detailed rehearsals at Fort Bragg and Eglin Air Force Base, and in Panama. Since operational security was a major concern, rehearsals were masked as routine training exercises. Only senior commanders and staff knew about the link with the actual contingency plan.
As the situation in Panama continued to deteriorate, Stiner grew more and more convinced that it was just a matter of time before the plan would have to be implemented. Every unit was rehearsed and ready, but training continued, to maintain unit readiness. Now came the waiting.
The National Command Authority had never wanted a preemptive strike, since the universal perception would be that it was an “invasion of a small and unprepared foe by the world’s strongest nation”—taking a sledgehammer to a flea. Instead, they wanted a trigger incident that would justify the operation in the eyes of the world.
On December 15, the Noriega-appointed National Assembly voted to make him head of government and “maximum leader of the struggle for national liberation.” Another resolution stated, “The Republic of Panama is declared to be in a state of war with the United States, as long as U.S. aggression in the form of economic sanctions imposed in 1988 continues.”
TRIGGER
At about 9:30 P.M. on Saturday, December 16, four young officers, just off duty at SOUTHCOM headquarters, were driving downtown for a pizza, when they were stopped at a PDF roadblock near the Comandancia. The PDF soldiers began beating on the car, trying to drag the Americans out. The driver sped away. The PDF opened fire. Barely a minute later, when it was all over, one officer had been shot in the ankle and Marine First Lieutenant Robert Paz had been mortally wounded.
Shortly afterward, the PDF stopped Navy Lieutenant Adam Curtis and his wife, Bonnie, who had witnessed the shooting incident, at the same roadblock. They were taken to the Comandancia and interrogated in the presence of a PDF officer. There, Curtis was kicked in the head and groin, and his wife was threatened sexually, then made to lean against a wall. She eventually collapsed on the floor. When the lieutenant protested, the PDF interrogators shoved wads of paper into his mouth, put a gun to his head, and again kicked him several times in the groin. “Your husband will never perform in bed again,” one of the interrogators told Bonnie.
After four hours of this, the PDF abruptly released them.
General Thurman learned of these incidents at 11:00 P.M., in Washington, where he’d gone for meetings. He immediately flew back to Panama.
About the same time, the liaison team in Panama got word to Stiner at Fort Bragg.
Meanwhile, Noriega had issued a communique that blamed the shooting incident on the four U.S. officers, alleging they had broken through a PDF checkpoint, shot at the Comandancia, and wounded three Panamanians—a soldier, a civilian, and a one-year-old girl.
The next morning, Sunday, December 17, Stiner got a secure phone call from Lieutenant General Kelley: “General Thurman is recommending the implementation of the OPLAN,” Kelley told him. “The Chairman, the SECDEF, and I are about to brief the President. Is there anything you want to pass on?”
“Yes, there is,” Stiner answered. “What happened is unfortunate; there is nothing we can do to bring back Lieutenant Paz or relieve the pain and suffering of the Navy lieutenant and his wife. But what we can do is clean up this mess once and for all by implementing the full OPLAN, and that is my recommendation. We are prepared to do it right.”
Stiner continued:
“We need a decision on H-hour, and I’d like to have it established at 0100 hours. I have three reaso
ns:
“First, that’s when the tide is highest in Panama (it fluctuates some forty-three feet there). The SEALs have to swim to some of their targets in order to place their explosive charges. If we pick the wrong time, they’d have to walk across mudflats, thus compromising their operations, and greatly increasing the risk of not being able to accomplish these critical missions at H-hour.
“Second, we want to minimize possibilities for hostage situations. For that, we need a time when there is little chance that a wide-body civilian jet, and several hundred passengers, will be landing at Torrijos Tocumen International Airport. We have been watching the airport for a couple of months, and seldom does a large jet land after midnight.
“Third, we have three major targets that we cannot secure at H-hour. After it jumps at H+45, the 82nd Airborne Division needs four hours to make three battalion-size combat air assaults before daylight. With H-hour at 0100, we believe that most of the fighting will be over come daylight.”
Kelley promised to pass this on to the President and get back to Stiner after the meeting. He called back at 5:15 that afternoon: “The President has made the decision to go,” he said. “And you’ve got what you wanted. H-hour will be at 0100.
“The President also wants you to pass on to the commanders and troops his total trust and confidence in their ability to accomplish the mission, and that he’ll be praying for them.”
Stiner immediately called his stateside commanders to give them the word. A couple of hours later, he assembled his staff at the XVIII Airborne Corps Headquarters to review the sequencing of operations that would follow on the President’s decision.
Shortly, the official “Execute Order” was published by Secretary Cheney. It established H-hour as 0100 hours, 20 December 1989.
That night, Brigadier General Ed Scholes, XVIII Airborne Corps Chief of Staff, left for Fort Clayton with a contingent of headquarters staff officers to establish a small command post to handle pre-H-hour details from that end.
At 0900, Monday, the eighteenth, the XVIII Airborne Corps called an emergency deployment readiness exercise (EDRE) to serve as a cover and no-notice order for executing Corps Plan 90-2. This initiated the 82nd Airborne’s eighteen-hour planning-and-alert procedure, a normal routine which would cover deployment, though only key personnel knew this.
Later in the afternoon, Stiner, key members of his Corps staff, and an advance command element from the 82nd Airborne Division, led by Brigadier General Joe Kinzer, took off for HowardAir Force Base in two unmarked C- 20s. The entire contingent traveled once again in civilian clothes; they did not change into battle dress until Tuesday night.
MEANWHILE, there’d been a major command change. Gary Luck was being promoted to Lieutenant General and would now command U.S. Army Special Forces Command; Major General Wayne Downing was taking over as commander of the JSOTF. Since General Downing’s background was filled with Airborne, Ranger, and Special Operations assignments, including combat in Vietnam, there was no loss in command continuity. He had been completely read-in on the plan, and had participated in all the rehearsals.
By the time the Execute Order was published, a large part of the special operations forces had already clandestinely infiltrated into Panama; the rest were scheduled to be infiltrated before H-hour. At 0100 on Monday morning, General Downing left for Panama with a contingent of his forces.
The force he would command totaled approximately 4,400 and was composed of special operations, psychological operations, and civil affairs units from the Army, Air Force, and the Navy. The largest special operations component, and its principal assault force, was the 75th Ranger Regiment, dubbed Task Force Red.
CARL Stiner comments:
Gary Luck had done an outstanding job integrating the joint special operations activities into the overall plan, and now he would not have the opportunity to execute them. On that count, I had to feel sorry for him. On the other hand, his promotion was long overdue and he would do an equally outstanding job commanding the Army’s Special Operations Command and go on to command the XVIII Airborne Corps in Operation DESERT STORM, less than a year away.
PRE-H-HOUR
Maintaining operational security had from the outset been crucial to the plan. Without it, we could forget about achieving surprise. And without surprise, there would certainly be greater casualties—on both sides. The troops stationed in Panama gave me the most concern in this regard. Some lived off-base, some had Panamanian girlfriends, some of the families had maids, and all our installations had Panamanian workers—a ready-made situation for a compromise.
One of my main reasons for going down to Panama early was to meet with the commanders there to determine how to best alert the troops for the operation without compromising security. And of course, I could control the pre-H-hour activities better there than I could back at Bragg.
There was no doubt; the troops in Panama were ready. All units were already in a high state of alert and could be assembled in two hours. They’d had intensified training; they’d eyeballed every target they would take down; and commanders had even prepared handy “battle books,” which provided the complete tactical plan for each target. For the sake of security, however, units below battalion level had deliberately not been briefed. And now this would have to be done for real, and quickly.
After landing at Howard Air Force Base on Monday night, I went straight to Fort Clayton and assembled all my commanders down to battalion level to tell them the operation was a go, at 0100 hours, 20 December—twenty-eight hours away. We then decided to call the junior officers in for briefing at 8:00 P.M. the next day, and the troops sequestered and briefed at 9:00. This would allow four hours for detailed briefings at company level, issue of ammo, and preparation for movement to attach positions. Both Civil Affairs and Psychological Operations teams (equipped with portable lowdspeakers and precut scripts) had previously been assigned to all company-level combat units.
Meanwhile, General Thurman and I had one other major concern—the security of the rightfully elected government, Endara, Ford, and Calderon, in hiding since their heating in May. Although Green Berets stationed in Panama had been keeping an eye on them and had responsibility for a rescue mission (if needed), the truth was that Noriega could have taken them anytime he wanted.
The Deputy Chief of Mission, John Bushnell (the Ambassador was on home leave), solved that problem by inviting the three men to dinner at his quarters on Howard Air Force Base, Tuesday evening, December 19. After dinner, they were flown by helicopter to Quarry Heights, where they were briefed on the operation by General Thurman.
Just before midnight, a Panamanian judge was provided space in Thurman’s headquarters, and there officially swore in Endara as president, and Ford and Calderon as vice presidents. After the ceremony, they were taken to a safe house on Fort Clayton, where they prepared the speeches they would deliver the morning after H-hour.
The United States immediately recognized the Endara government.
MEANWHILE, we had several people tracking Noriega, and they had a fairly good handle on where he was about eighty percent of the time. That turned out not to he good enough.
On Tuesday the nineteenth, he had spent most of the day in the Colon area. Late that afternoon, his entourage left Colon and headed for Panama City—or so we thought. We later learned that somewhere between Colon and Panama City, the convoy had split in two, one part headed east to a rest camp near Torrijos-Tocumen International Airport, where Noriega had a rendezvous with a prostitute (arranged by his aide, Captain Gaitan—a true bad guy; he’d reportedly murdered three people). The other part proceeded on to the Comandancia, where a Noriega look-alike got out, was greeted by the honor guard, and proceeded inside.
Based on information our people provided, Wayne Downing and I both quickly realized that this man was not Noriega.
But where was the real one? We didn’t know.
BACK in the States, marshaling had been completed and troops were loading and launching
from fourteen different bases. Since the plan called for radio silence, we conducted everything up until H-hour from a Master Execution Checklist. As long as a unit was on schedule, there was no need for reports; we broke radio silence only when something happened that might keep a unit from accomplishing its mission at the specified time.
So far, so good. Everything seemed to be on track—including command and control: I had overall control from my headquarters in Panama, while Downing provided an alternate command post in that country. He had complete communications and the ability to control the whole operation. Airborne over the Atlantic in an EC-130 was the Deputy Corps Commander, Major General Will Roosma, with a complete battle staff and all the communications necessary to control the operation. And back at Fort Bragg was another fully manned command center, also capable of controlling the operation.
A total of 253 fixed-wing aircraft and 80 helicopters were to be involved in D Day activities. On the next page is a listing by type and number.
Some of these aircraft, such as the thirty-five KC-10 and KC-135 tankers, would assume orbit positions outside the immediate operational area so as not to interfere with combat activities.
All those carrying troops or in troop support missions would assemble over the Gulf of Mexico, drop down below Cuba’s radar coverage and proceed through the Yucatán Gap, and then on to Panama and their specific target areas. Just in case any were challenged by Castro’s air force, twelve F- 15 fighters were aloft near Cuba and ready to respond.