"You dumb sonofabitch," Ellis said, in English.
"Where's Eaglebury?" Lopez pursued.
"You don't want to know," Ellis said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just what it sounds like. You don't want to know," Ellis said. Lopez looked at him a moment, and then nodded his head. In point of fact, all Lieutenant Ellis knew about SFC/It. Commander Eaglebury was that his bag had contained civilian clothing and that Eaglebury had put it on before walking down the mountain.
And while Ellis was curious what Eaglebury was up to, he really didn't want to know. Ellis and the others ott the team had been kept in the dark against the possibility of their capture. If they were captured, they would be interrogated. Their only defense against a determined, skilled interrogator equipped with the best mechanical and chemical tools of the trade was ignorance.
Lieutenant Ellis's
"A" Team had a mission, of course, a mission which was both bona fide and a splendid cover for Eaglebury's more secret mission. Ellis's team was to install, at a precise location, a radio transmitter which when the word was received they would activate. This transmitter would allow the aircraft involved in the invasion to determine their precise location.
By noon of the first day, Ellis had learned that Lopez's non fluency in Spanish was not the only shortage he was going to have to cope with.
The communications portion of the radio which the team had been equipped with had somehow been rendered inoperable during the insertion. The receiving function worked, but it was impossible to transmit. Neither MI Sgt Karr nor SFC Lopez were able to repair it.
Even that contingency had been planned for. At pre specified times during the night, flares were to be ignited for precisely sixty seconds and then extinguished. They lit the flares that night, and radio confirmation came quickly that Base understood that the team was intact and operational and that only their radio acknowledgment of orders was impaired.
From that point until they got the word, the team would have little to do except avoid making waves. Other flares were ignited at predetermined times to confirm that the- team re maimed operational, but that was it. xx
(One) Headquarters U.S. Army, Pacqic Honolulu, Hawaii 2230 Hours, 12 April 1961
Major Craig W. Lowell had been assigned a room in the basement. It contained two desks, one of them with a shelf holding an IBM electric typewriter, two chairs, a standard issue table, and a telephone on a stand.
He had originally been assigned a clerk-typist, but the Adjutant General, on whom the levy for a typist with a Top Secret security clearance had been laid, had naturally not deprived his organization of his best typist.
The typist he got was a nice kid, and Lowell didn't want to send him back with the humiliation of being relieved for incompetence, so he told him to make himself scarce until he sent for him.
Then he did the typing himself, and there had been a good deal of it, It had taken him six days. He took the covering letter from the IBM and looked at it.
TOP SECRET
HEADQUARTERS
U.S. ARMY, PACIFIC
HONOLULU, HAWAII
14 April 1961
SUBJECT: Letter of Transmittal
TO: Commander in Chief
U.S. Army, Pacific
Honolulu, Hawaii
1. Transmitted herewith in triplicate is the report of the undersigned concerning aviation logistic requirements in the event the United States Army. should be required to participate in operations in the Republic of South Vietnam. 2. The report consists of this letter and eighteen (18) separate documents, attached as Inclosures 1 through 18 hereto. The report is classified Top Secret. Copies 2 and 3 are in the custody of the Classified Documents Officer, Hq, USARPAC, under control numbers TS-61 107 and TS-61 108. Copy 1 has been delivered personally by the undersigned to CINCPAC.
Craig W. Lowell Major, Armor
Incl: 1. General topographical observations (w/maps) as they apply to the operation of conventional U.S. Army forces within the Republic of South Vietnam. 2. General topographical observations (w/maps) as they apply to the operation of airmobile U.S. Army forces (i. e." 11th Air Assault Division [Provisional] [Test]) within the Republic of South Vietnam. 3. General topographic observations (w/maps) as they apply to the operation of unconventional forces under U.S. Army control (i. e."
native forces under the control of U.S. Army Special Forces). 4.
Evaluation of existing air facilities at Saigon, together with an appraisal of their capability for expansion to meet U.S. Army needs under the following conditions: (a) U.S. Army strength level to 25,000 personnel (b) U.S. Army strength level to 50,000 personnel (c) U.S. Army strength level to 100,000 personnel (d) U.S. Army strength level to 200,000 personnel (e) through (h) Same as (a) through (d) but assuming forces include 11th Air Assault Division (or equivalent) 5.
Same as 4 above for Hue 6. Same as 4 above for Tourane (Da Nang) 7.
Same as 4 above for Gia Lia (Pleiku) 8. Same as 4 above for Ban Me Thuot 9. Same as 4 above for Da Lat 10. Same as 4 above for Nha Trang 11. Same as 4 above for Vung Tau (Cap St. Jacques) 12. Same as 4 above for Long Huyen 13. Same as 4 above for Phu Quoc Island 14.
Evaluation of existing aviation petroleum storage facilities at Saigon, together with an appraisal of their capability for expansion under the conditions specified in 4 above. 15. Same as 14 above for Quang Ng Ai 16. Same as 14 above for Binh Dinh 17. Same as 14 above for Vinh Cam Ranh (Cam Ranh Bay) 18. An appraisal of special aviation requirements in the event of deployment of U.S. Army Special Forces in the highlands (w/maps).
Craig W. Lowell Major, Armor
TOP SECRET
He took a pen from his pocket and wrote his signature above his typed name.
Then he called the Classified Documents Officer and asked him to send somebody over to help him carry everything to the vault. There was no way he could carry it all by himself.
He thought that what would happen now was that he would present it to General Black in the morning. Black would tell him to amuse himself while keeping himself available until he had time to read it. That would be followed by two days of nitpicking and answering questions he hadn't answered in the report. Or maybe a week of that. It was an enormous report.
He misjudged again what General E.Z. Black would do. "There's no point in you sticking around, Lowell," Black told him. "If I have any specific questions, I'll get them answered by someone with fresh eyes."
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you, Lowell," General Black said. "Jiggs was apparently right."
"Sir?"
"The problem dealing with you is keeping you busy; when you're busy, you're everything that can be expected of a good officer." "Then I shall try to keep busy," Lowell said.
"Perhaps they'll have something for you to do when you get back," Black said, offering Lowell his hand.
There was more in that remark than the words, but of course Lowell could not ask him.
He went back to the Royal Hawaiian. He went to his suite and took a long shower, and then he made himself a drink.
He gave into the temptation, and reached for the telephone, as he knew he would. He had written Cynthia his own version of her
"Get Thee Out of My Life, My Darling" letter, just before he'd gone to Vietnam.
He had told, her that he simply couldn't settle for the odd weekend now and again. He told her he was being "sent away" and would use the time to think the whole thing through. And he wrote that it seemed only decent to say that he thought it would be better if he never tried to call her again and that he probably wouldn't.
And now that he had changed his mind, the editorial offices of Time-Life in New York would not tell him where he could reach Miss. Cynthia Thomas. But, they said, if he would leave his name and his number, they would try to get his message to her.
He controlled his temper and gave the name. Porter Craig or that press agent would have known someone at Time-Life who could get him through to Cynthia, b
ut obviously under the circumstances he could not call Porter.
He looked out his window at the beach and the Pacific Ocean. It would be a shame to have been in Hawaii and not taken a swim, he decided. And it was not entirely beyond possibility that there would be a female on the beach who had come to Hawaii in search of romance. But just as he was about to leave his room, the telephone rang. He would have given odds that it was some sonofabitch at Hq USARPAC who had seen his report and wanted to talk to him about it.
"Lowell," he snarled into the telephone.
"You drop out of sight for six months, and you snarl?" Cynthia Thomas asked.
"Jesus!" he said. "Where were you? Where are you? How come not a lousy postcard?"
"I'm in Honolulu."
"What are you doing there?"
"I'm about to leave."
"I have the feeling we've had this conversation before," she said.
"I hope it ends the way the other one did." "Excuse me?" Cynthia said, not taking his meaning.
"With breakfast, so to speak," Lowell said.
"Oh, so that's why you called me?"
"It was in my mind."
"Tell me where you've been while I think about it," she said.
"I'm sorry, I can't do that."
"Oh, here we go again. C. Lowell, defender of the world!"
"I can't."
"I'm in Los Angeles," she said. "But I'm leaving."
"Oh?"
"For Mexico City." "Mexico City is lovely this time of year," he said.
"It is. But I'll be working for a week."
"At night?"
"Night and day," she said. "How about a week from today?"
"All right. Where will you be?" "You get a place," she said. "And then call me at the bureau, and I'll rush over with a rose between my teeth."
The phone went dead. He looked at it. Cynthia for a couple of days was not as nice as Cynthia forever, but Cynthia for a couple of days was a lot better than no Cynthia at all.
He tapped the hook with his finger. He asked to be connected with the manager and told him he would be very grateful if a first-class seat could be found for him on the next plane to the States.
(Two) Near Aguada de Pasajeros, Cuba 0650 Hours, 7 April 1961
Sergeant First Class Juan Vincenzo Lopez had philosophized with maddening frequency: "Operations aren't so bad. It's sitting around with your thumb up your ass that gets you down."
For Ellis, keeping the troops occupied had posed something of a problem. Troops with a lot of time to think can come up with very imaginative worst-possible scenarios for their future, and troops hiding out in the mountains of a hostile country can not play intramural softball or be assigned to whitewash rocks to keep them busy.
Then M/Sgt Karr and SFC Lopez presented Lieutenant Ellis with a proposal to go into Aguada de Pasajeros to steal a truck to provide an additional power supply; this would (a) obviate the necessity of turning the bicycle pedals at all, (b) save the batteries for an emergency, and (c) permit the team (when the word came) to get their asses down to the beach and away several hours earlier than the plan called for.
At first Lieutenant Ellis was opposed to the idea. He had been ordered to make every effort to avoid capture, so that the United States would not be embarrassed by the public display of captured American soldiers involved in what was a native Cuban effort to overthrow the communist regime of Fidel Castro. Any project like this was bound to involve some risk. But as he thought about it, he saw that the plan had two things going for it. The sooner he got the team to the beach after the invasion started, the less chance they would be captured. And putting Operation Hot Generator into effect would give his men something to think about.
He decided that what MI Sgt Karr and SFC Lopez proposed was worthy of execution. The only problem with their carefully thought-out plan was that neither of them spoke Spanish well. Consequently Lieutenant Ellis had accon'ipanied SFC Lopez into Aguada de Pasajeros, leaving M/Sgt Karr behind and in command. The theft of a 1948 Ford pickup had gone smoothly. By noon the next day, the truck had been installed in a camouflaged position with its rear wheels off the ground, its hood removed against possible engine overheating, and its carburetor and gear box arranged so that at just above normal idle the rear wheel drove the bicycle pedal mechanism at precisely the right speed to power the aviation navigation aid.
SFC Lopez then devised and built a switch that would instantly switch the batteries on in the event the engine stopped. When the word came, all that would be necessary for them to do was start up the truck, wait until the engine appeared to be operating normally, and then haul ass for the beach to be picked up.
Other missions had been launched, primarily to keep up troop morale.
Their execution had seen the only shots fired three rounds from Lieutenant Ellis's silenced.22 caliber pistol. Ellis had gone three times to the outskirts of Aguada de Pasajeros with various members of the team, where he had shot three pigs in the ear with the silenced pistol, gutted them, and then carried them back to the camp for an alfresco pig roast.
And then there was a message from Base that Ellis did not immediately recognize. He had to consult his code book (actually, two sheets of very thin paper designed to dissolve very quickly in water, or saliva) to decipher them.
"Augmentation Two Men Equipment Time M Site 8 Acknowledge"
The message required that Lieutenant Ellis make an important decision: The dropping of two men and equipment (unspecified, but he thought it was likely that it would be replacement transmitters) at Time M (first light) at Site 8 (a field three miles away) was the wrong time and the wrong place.
If he had a functioning transmitter, he could inform Base and recommend other sites and places. The area where Base intended to HALO the augmentation was one of the few places where the People's Revolutionary Militia, or whatever the fuck those clowns called themselves, operated patrols.
The fields in that area were being sown. Lieutenant Ellis didn't have the vaguest goddamn idea what they were planting. But whatever it was, it was stuck into the ground by three person teams2 One dug a hole, one stuck something in the hole, and the third covered the hole. The persons doing this were female, many of them young. Members of the team had spent many hours observing the native woman through binoculars. Only a few of the women, it had been- determined, wore brassieres.
The area was thoroughly patrolled by two or three pickup trucks, each carrying two or more Cubans armed to the teeth. There was no evidence of counterrevolutionary activity in the area (except for one missing truck and three missing pigs), but vigilant patrol gave the revolutionary guards a splendid opportunity to swagger around the girls, manfully handling their weapons.
Lieutenant Ellis realized he had only two options. He could either use the flares to acknowledge receipt of the order and announce his preparedness to meet the augmentation team or to signal that the intended augmentation should be aborted.
He decided that he better go along with what the higher ups had in mind. Since he did not know the purpose of the augmentation team, he had to presume that inserting it had a higher priority than even the mission of "A" Team No. 6. There had probably been at least one more team -like his inserted elsewhere. They would want insurance. That meant that it had been decided that inserting the augmentation team was worth the risk of losing "A" Team No. 6 and its capability.
Ellis ordered the flare signal which told Base to send the team.
That night, he divided his own team in two: M/Sgt Karr, and four others would remain at the nay-aid site. They would make every effort not to be discovered. They were authorized to eliminate the intruders or to take any other action they saw fit.
Ellis took the remaining three men with him through the woods to Site M. He sent one man who spoke passable Spanish to the high end of the field. If the augmentation team landed near him, he was to wave them into the woods, and, if necessary, provide covering fire from his machine gun.
Ellis positioned the other
two men in the trees on either side of the road leading to the field. Each had a machine gun, a submachine gun, and fragmentation hand grenades. They would be in a position to delay for a time vehicles and personnel moving either from the town to the field or from the field to the town.
Lieutenant Ellis himself took up a position in a tree on the low end of the field. From there he could see the entire field. Everyone was in place an hour before the first faint rays of the sun were evident on the horizon.
The sun came up quickly. The sky was clear. There was no sign, no contrail of high altitude condensation. He was to wonder about that later. He thought there was always a contrail.
W E B Griffin - BoW 04 - The Colonels Page 52