Wilco- Lone Wolf 8

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘If this gets out...’

  ‘We’ll have to try and make sure that it doesn’t, sir.’

  ‘And the pilots?’

  ‘Slipped through our fingers and stole the plane this morning, and flew it to Monrovia, beyond extradition.’

  ‘You’re a little tinker, you know that.’

  ‘Did you want us to try and explain the pilots?’

  ‘No, better where they are. I just hope the reasons behind it don’t get out.’

  ‘Who’d believe such a tale, sir?’

  ‘A lot of people must have seen that plane.’

  ‘They have other things to worry about, sir, all busy.’

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘We ambushed them overnight, hit them hard, lots of trucks destroyed, rebels killed, roads blocked. French in the north have blocked the road, cut off the escape route, minimal casualties on our side so far.’

  ‘This morning’s papers are covered with the campaign, labelling it as the largest deployment since the Falklands – which I guess it is. The Sun has a six page spread, listing all the various units.’

  ‘Press on their way down?’

  ‘Yes, should be with you soon I guess. What do you see as the next step?’

  ‘We wear them down each day, hit and run.’

  ‘Probably not best to suggest that you boxed them in, sounds cruel almost.’

  ‘I’ll be coy, sir, and they could drive due east and escape, kind of.’

  ‘There’ll be some Sea Kings at your disposal from sometime today, Lynx as well, so get them all some headlines.’

  ‘Will do, sir. You ... want me to drag it out or finish it quickly?’

  ‘Use your discretion, but keep recruitment in mind – and casualties very low.’

  A truck turned up a few minutes later, kit offloaded, anti-septic cream and bars of soap, bic razors, toothpaste, toilet paper. I had a jeep loaded up to drive to the Paras, a second jeep to drive to the Gurkhas, 2 Squadron lads grabbing items – especially the toilet paper.

  Inside, I placed down the antibiotic soap. ‘All men present are required to shower with this soap, an example to the men. If you wash shirt armpits with it they dry quickly in this heat and smell OK. ’

  The officers grabbed bars and sniffed at them.

  After a nice cup of tea, the reports slow so far this morning, my phone trilled.

  ‘It’s Rocko, need a helicopter, Gonzo lost an arm.’

  My heart sank. ‘Lost an arm?’

  ‘Found some old ordnance in the mud, touched it, blew his arm off below the elbow. We got a tourniquet on, he’ll live.’

  ‘Call Captain Harris, he’ll track your location, ask for a Lynx if they have one, should be a Navy Lynx on hand, maybe a winch.’

  ‘OK, I’ll call him now.’

  Phone down, people asked what was up.

  ‘One of my men, who should have known better, he found something in the jungle, old ordnance, touched it and lost an arm. Warn all your units, please, there’ve been a dozen wars here, lots of shit lying around.’

  I stepped out and called the Major. ‘It’s Wilco, sir. Gonzo is hurt badly, lost an arm, so notify the family.’

  ‘He’s on loan, a regular technically. How bad is he hurt?’

  ‘He found some old ordnance in the jungle, touched it, lost an arm.’

  ‘Stupid man, he should have known better! I’ll get the paperwork started, chat to Credenhill. How’s it going otherwise?’

  ‘Not many casualties, he’s the first serious casualty, and we’ve boxed them in and blocked the roads. Slow attrition now.’

  ‘The Sun newspaper has a good spread, good coverage of the Gurkhas, plus a load of pictures of blacks with machetes, talk of what monsters they are.’

  ‘This lot would cook us and eat us if they captured one of our lads.’

  ‘And the US Navy is involved?’

  ‘Yes, keen to assist; they put holes in a runway for us.’

  ‘You need me down there?’ he again asked.

  ‘Lt Col Marsh is here, a few majors. You want some time out the office, sir?’

  ‘Wife would not be happy, she wants me to retire soon.’

  ‘No pressing need, sir, no bickering.’

  ‘That makes a change.’

  Phone away, I turned to the building, but turned back when a Sea King helicopter came in, Royal Navy colours. The first man down was the same JIC mandarin from Borneo, the one that could stay awake.

  ‘So much for no bickering...’ I let out as I walked out to greet him.

  Behind him stepped down General Dennet and his team. I shook hands with our mandarin, buffeted by the helo downdraft, and saluted Dennet with a smile as he held his beret down. We shook hands. ‘Welcome to the FOB, sir.’

  ‘I’ve heard much about it. Surprised you’re not in the jungle.’

  I led them to the door. ‘I have to coordinate it all, sir.’ Inside, I shouted, ‘Senior officer present!’ and men stood.

  Lt Col Marsh snapped to attention. ‘General.’ They shook.

  ‘Good to see you again, been a while,’ Dennet offered Marsh, and Marsh introduced his officers as I organised tea and some food.

  I introduced Haines and Morten, Major Taggard, and then spent twenty minutes detailing the map board and what had happened so far for General Dennet and his team - as well as our JIC mandarin.

  ‘How long do you think this operation will take?’ Dennet finally asked me.

  ‘If we aim to keep casualties very low, sir, a few weeks of slow attrition. We’ve blocked the roads, so their supplies will start to run down.’

  ‘Re-supply by air?’

  ‘The US Navy dug up their runway, sir. But there are many small strips around, used for smuggling, probably a few we don’t know about, and they use Mi8 helicopters a great deal. Still, they won’t re-supply four thousand men by helicopter.’

  ‘No, quite. Let’s talk outside.’ He led me out and to a quiet spot. ‘Are the various units playing nicely?’

  ‘So far so good, all keen for some action, sir, no bickering.’

  ‘And Lt Col Marsh?’

  ‘Very helpful, he let me take the lead.’

  Dennet nodded. ‘Newspaper coverage is huge, had half of our enlisted men volunteer to come down, morale is good, recruitment is good. There are those who ... would like to milk this for all it’s worth, provided casualties are low. Your previous successes in building unit morale is a key factor, the powers keen for lots of newspaper pages.’

  I nodded, taking in the radio Land Rover, men walking around. ‘There may be ... something. The main rebel force has boxed itself in, but maybe they meant to do that, because for us to approach by road would be suicide. Around them is twenty miles of jungle and swamp. But, according to the map, there are some areas of grassland, big enough for a para drop.’

  ‘Drop a force on the grass, then a walk in,’ he mused. ‘Seems OK. What’s the downside?’

  ‘Half a dozen broken ankles, helo lift out.’

  ‘We get that during an exercise in the UK!’

  ‘There would be jungle fighting, so casualties, but the fighting spirit of those we face will be less every day, and the US Navy must have scared the shit out of them. They probably think there are ten thousand US Marines here.’

  He nodded. ‘How many on the drop?’

  ‘Three hundred Paras.’

  ‘That would be the biggest drop since Arnhem, 1944.’

  ‘And the newspaper coverage...’

  ‘Yes, I see a documentary movie down the line.’

  I put in, smiling, ‘If they see the planes dropping Paras, they’ll crap themselves. And if they see a lot of planes...’

  He nodded. ‘They’d lose morale quickly. What would you need?’

  ‘There are two Hercules here -’

  ‘Three sat on the runway I saw.’

  ‘A few more would help, sir. I’ll call the Air Commodore, get chutes and more instructors down here.’


  ‘You apparently have para instructors here?’

  ‘Yes, sir, some out in the jungle, some helping out around here. They came down to get some experience, because they get no respect from the SAS.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘They have confirmed kills and operational HALO drops, something many in the SAS don’t even have.’

  ‘And these police, that no one is supposed to know about?’

  ‘They have lots of confirmed kills, jungle experience.’

  ‘They could replace the SAS in London?’

  ‘Yes, sir, and the SAS go back to green-field soldiering.’

  ‘That is what Colonel Dean suggested, and I agree with him.’ He stared at the mess tent. ‘Are those Marines?’

  ‘Yes, sir, fifty of them. They’ll be tasked today.’

  He nodded. ‘My man, Colonel Clifford, will stay here with a team, ask him for what you need, and we have an eye on what will happen after the fighting ends.’

  ‘Peacekeeping, sir?’

  ‘It’s being discussed at a political level, save this happening every year.’

  ‘Our friend in Monrovia will cooperate.’

  ‘You say that as if you know him.’

  ‘We chat every day.’

  His eyes widened. ‘You do.’

  ‘I opened back-channels to him for Intel in London. But never repeat that, sir.’

  ‘He’ll not attack our men?

  ‘He’s shit scared ... of our men.’

  ‘He saw your small unit wipe out a base with five hundred men in, so not surprising. So we could work a deal and keep the bandits out.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He nodded. ‘Smell of that food is killing me.’

  ‘I’ll have some sent in, sir.’ I walked to the mess tent and made the request, and back outside I called the Air Commodore.

  ‘Ah, Wilco my lad, how’s it going? My para instructors doing OK?’

  ‘They’re fine, sir, and in the thick of the fighting. But I may have forgotten to tell them about the four thousand rebels surrounding them when they HALO’d in.’

  ‘Christ, are they in danger?’

  ‘Not really, the rebels are a bit crap. Listen, I just spoke to General Dennet, he’s down here, need a few more Hercules, and all of the para school, and enough chutes and reserves for say four hundred men.’

  ‘Four hundred?’

  ‘We may employ a large scale drop, which would boost your para school no end. Are they ... busy right now?’

  ‘Weather is terrible, so no, and it’s winter.’

  ‘Then send them all, and any Hercules pilot that wants some experience of a live drop.’

  ‘They’d all be queuing up! But what about 2 Squadron, you could involve them?’

  ‘Well, maybe. How many chutes do you have?’

  ‘Enough to drop three thousand men in a war.’

  ‘Have the rest of 2 Squadron sent down then, they can drop into some spot with little danger, but they’ll not know that.’

  ‘Most of 2 Squadron are down there already, I’ll send the rest.’

  ‘Send me another squadron to protect this place, as replacements, sir.’

  ‘Will do, good to have something live to do instead of more damned scenarios.’

  ‘Say hello to your wife for me.’

  Back inside, General Dennet and his team were chatting to the Paras.

  I closed in on the JIC mandarin to loud background chatter. ‘I would have figured you’d be here sooner.’

  ‘Well, there’s a fine line between regular Army and special ops, and this was down as Army more than us, but I argued the case.’

  ‘Hope you don’t fall asleep during my briefings,’ I teased.

  ‘I slept on the plane, and shall keep the coffee going,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘What happened to that guy from Borneo anyhow?’

  ‘Back to his desk, never to be trusted in the field again.’

  I nodded. ‘Just as well.’

  ‘And you’ve been in regular contact with your friends in low places..?’

  ‘On a daily basis, and they have proven extremely useful. A plane bound for the rebels was diverted, the pilots bribed, the weapons stacked up outside.’

  ‘Always useful to pinch away their weapons. And the idiot in Monrovia?’

  ‘Is cooperating fully, hiding under the bed.’

  General Dennet spoke with many of the groups before he departed, his team now with a room and camp beds, his colonel already making his presence felt with questions of logistics, even questions of morale.

  Major Taggard took a call, and smiled at Marsh. Off the phone he said, ‘That’ll be twenty quid, sir.’

  ‘What! Fuck!’ Marsh let out.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked Taggard, everyone listening in.

  ‘Plane came in, saw the other plane and circled, and my lads opened up with a GPMG, hit and engine. It came in on fire, bad landing, and a good five minutes later the Paras hit it with four RPG.’

  ‘Hah! So we hit it!’ Marsh said. ‘You only damaged it! We destroyed it.’

  ‘Yee’s a bad sport, sir,’ Taggard complained.

  ‘Call it a draw,’ I said. ‘Wager goes forwards to the next plane.’

  ‘Fine,’ Marsh said, Taggard shaking his head.

  Moran called in ten minutes later. ‘We saw three Mi8 helicopters pass nearby, heading to that airfield.’

  ‘US Navy hit the runway, so that makes sense. How’re your supplies?’

  ‘Getting low, but we shot a deer, good size, and we’re all stuffed now.’

  ‘Back here a cow wandered in, so we shot it and the chef’s chopped it into steak for us.’

  ‘Yeah, well Rocko and Dicky are eating well.’

  ‘They are? How come?’

  ‘The found a truck halted, broken down, shot the men. Back was full of food, so they drove it into the jungle, covered the tracks. They have tinned peaches, pears, mincemeat, potatoes.’

  ‘Lucky fucks, but it saves re-supply.’

  ‘They got ammo and some box-fed as well, Dicky has them.’

  ‘What you been up to today?’

  ‘We copied Sasha.’

  ‘Sasha?’ I queried.

  ‘He waits for a truck to pass, then hits a few men in the back. Most trucks never stop, the drivers don’t notice, so we’re taking pot shots at them.’

  ‘Still movement on that road?’

  ‘Fuck all now, a few vehicles, one an hour.’

  ‘Get hold of Rocko and have him move his team up towards you, find that track west, but be careful, thousands of men down that track. Have a sneak peak, but dead slow. And any Mi8 flying over, shoot at them, but from distance – you get spotted and there’ll be five hundred men on you in no time. Oh, you heard about Gonzo?’’

  ‘Yeah, pity really, but he should have known better.’

  ‘That’s what the Major said.’

  ‘What’s happening elsewhere?’

  ‘Paras shot up another plane, Ghurkhas yet to make contact, and the main Para force shot up a column, no serious casualties so far, but half the Army is on its way down.’

  ‘Big ramp up?’

  ‘Yeah, and maybe a large para drop in the offing, west of that airfield.’

  ‘Why a drop?’

  ‘The roads and tracks will be mined, ambushes set. Be damned careful approaching that place.’

  ‘OK, we’ll sniff around carefully.’

  With the phone away, the Marines captain wandered in. ‘Men are rested and fed, kit checked, so have you got something for us to do?’ he asked, heads turning.

  ‘Plenty for you to do,’ I told him. ‘We’ll get you some transport. You drive towards the Ghurkhas, join their camp, then set out on foot northeast. There’s a ridge of higher ground, small river, a few tracks, a few villages.

  ‘Be well camouflaged, move with stealth, report enemy movements. If you come across a small enemy patrol and you’re confident, get solid cover, have at them, wit
hdraw. If you think they’re following, set an ambush, then back away and circle around.

  ‘If you’re on a ridge, trucks and jeeps passing, black faces in green uniforms, open up for sixty seconds then leg it away. Take plenty of 66mm. This ... is hit and run jungle warfare, no heroics, keep the casualties down, please.’

  The Ghurkha captain stepped in.

  ‘Ah, just the man. Arrange transport for the Marines today, please, they’ll join you.’

  He nodded at the Marines captain. ‘We had a sneak look at a camp of sorts, got to be three hundred men in it.’ He put a finger on the map. ‘They have ambushes set-up on two roads nearby. But we think we can do some damage, they’re not that switched on. We can hit the buildings and vehicles with 66mm and RPG, open up for a while and then withdraw.’

  ‘There’re more RPG here, plenty, so take some,’ I told him. ‘Aim to hit them at dawn tomorrow, and have the Marines on a flank, coordinate the attack.’

  The two captains stepped out chatting as my phone trilled.

  ‘Wilco.’

  ‘It’s Captain Harris. We have movement, group moving west down the road that leads to that camp you liked visiting so much.’

  ‘We’ll alert the men there, thanks.’

  I warned Major Taggard, and he would have men get eyes-on the road.

  Ten minutes later Major Taggard approached, waving in the Paras. ‘My men say there’s a long column of blacks marching on that strip.’

  I began, ‘Have your men move deep into the trees, no risks, make ready those mortars. If they have to ... cross the river.’ I turned my head to the Paras major. ‘Alert your men, sir. But if that force is too big ... open fire and then withdraw back to the camp, it has solid walls you can use.’

  Marsh closed in to look at the map. ‘Those men on foot are walking right towards my ambush point.’

  ‘Question is, sir, just how dumb they are.’

  ‘Oh, some of my men are not too bad,’ Marsh said, the officers laughing.

  ‘Warn them to be ready, sir,’ I said with a smile.

  “G” Squadron, figuring they’d not get to use the mortars effectively, set fire to the truck after repositioning it, mortars left in the rear to cook - on purpose. They then moved back to a point close to the river that also gave them a shot at the airstrip, a few men clambering up trees.