Then he saw several nets that looked as if they had been woven from some local vine. They had two- or three-inch squares, and he figured they were used for carrying things, like the coconuts that the Negritos had come to harvest. At one side he saw two dozen coconuts that had been husked out of their fibrous shell. The brown inner shell remained.
Blackie picked up one of the coconuts, pierced the eyes with a sharp-pointed stick, and drank the milk. Then he broke it on a rock and dug out the white meat.
“Take just meat when walk home,” he said.
Lam thought Blackie and the others might even dry the coconut meat before they carried it back to their main camp. They were efficient, self-sufficient, answering to nobody, beholden to no one, man or government. Now there was a lifestyle.
A curious monkey swung from trees high overhead. Blackie looked at him, judged the distance, and put down his spear.
“Eat monkey too,” he said. “Monkey taste good.”
“How old are you, Blackie?” Juan asked.
The short man built furrows in his forehead and twisted up his face. “At Subic Bay, Navy Chief Chief call me twenty-five. Not know for sure. Now, maybe fifty, fifty-five. Blackie no count good now.”
The women shouted at the children, and three of them ran into the rain forest and came back quickly with a dozen green shiny leaves as big as dinner plates. They laid them on a log that had been flattened somewhat by cutting with a knife. The pork slabs were placed on each of the leaves, and topped with a mixture of fruits that one of the women had been preparing.
“Chow,” Blackie said. He grinned. “Blackie remember chow call good from Navy.”
They sat in front of the log and ate. The pork was well done and different from anything Lam had ever tasted. It wasn’t like pork, or beef. It had been butchered and cooked before most of the blood had been drained out of the animal and while it was still warm. That made a difference in the taste. It was good, but Lam didn’t think he’d want to make it a permanent part of his diet. The fruit was marvelous. He recognized the bananas, but that was all. Whatever it was, he liked it.
Lam checked his watch. “Chogie time. We need to get back to the LZ.” Lam looked around for a minute. “Be damned if I’m certain how we got here.”
Juan chuckled. “I made a small wager with Blackie that he’d have to take us back partway and point us down to the river. He said no problem. As soon as you finish your pork. It’s not polite in a primitive society to leave any food that has been given to you.”
Lam looked down at his leaf and scooped up the last of the pork and chewed it down.
It was a little over an hour later that they settled in at their former hideout three miles from the river. The time was almost 1400. Plenty of time. Lam set up the radio, and this time he showed Juan how to do it.
“Home Plate, this is Scout.”
A response came back immediately. “Yes, Scout. We’re in our final prep here for our jump over there. A little longer flight this time, but still well within the range of the forty-six. We’re going to leave the bird on the ground this time with six Army security guards while we make our hike.”
“Good thinking, Home Plate. We’re at our safe spot and will move down to the LZ in about two hours. Any changes?”
“None right now. We’ll talk later just before we pull out. Take care and we’ll see you soon.”
Juan closed down the radio, folded the antenna, and put it in its pouch on the SATCOM.
Lam leaned back on the soft greenery and looked at Juan. “I better say it, Juan. I’ve been thinking about Colonel Alvarez. He did pick you to come on this mission, you and the sergeant.”
Juan nodded. “I know where you’re going with that. But you can rest easy. I was rammed down Alvarez’s throat. He didn’t want me to come. He had a captain from his headquarters he had picked and primed. Then somebody said it should be a man who had been in contact and combat with the rebels. My CO pushed me for the spot and I won out. I have no loyalty to the colonel. I didn’t even like him. He’s getting what he deserved. No, I won’t sabotage the fight tonight. I could have done that yesterday on my recon. If I was his man, I’d have acted before now. I’m not. I’m clean.”
“I believe you, Juan. I just had to ask, in case Murdock nails me.”
“No problem, Lam. Hey, I’ve been in the Army for eight years, I know how the military works. Cover your ass. Hell, yes. When are we heading for the river?”
13
The big CH-46 let down easily on the harvested rice field to the west of the river and settled on its wheels. The six Filipino Army guards stormed out the side doors and took up positions to protect the ship. The SEALs raced out behind them and charged forward along the river until they hit the jungle growth and cover.
“About time you blokes got here,” Lam said after he stepped from behind a large mahogany tree.
“Got stuck in a beauty of a traffic jam on the freeway,” Jaybird cracked.
Murdock called the men around him. “Any changes in the plans, Lam?”
“No, sir. All about the same. We haven’t been any closer to the town than this since we left yesterday. Don’t see what they could do even if they think there is some opposition out here.”
“Good. Our timing is a little off. Won’t be full dark for another half hour, but we can move down toward the town. Lieutenant Ejercito, how do you feel about a 2100 attack time, or should we push it back to 2400?”
“Would be fewer civilians out at midnight, Commander, and fewer rebels on guard duty. Still, it’s going to take us some time to hit all the targets. If we get pinned down on one…”
“Okay, then let’s keep the sked we have. Five miles to target, Lam?”
“Right, Skipper.”
“Time now is 1934. Let’s take a hike and get in position, then decide on our attack time. Juan, can we split into two teams for the hits? Can Lam point out some of the targets to us?”
“He knows where they are on the map, Commander. He has seen only two of them. But he’s a smart man, I think he could do it.”
“Lam?”
“We have eight separate targets. I know three and can find the other one. Juan gets four.”
“Good. Lam, you’ll be with Alpha Squad, and Juan, you go with Bravo. Let’s take a hike.”
Moving down the trail beside the river with Lam out in front by three hundred yards, they took almost an hour to cover the five miles. They headed up the slope of the ridge to the left near the town to take a good look. They could spot some of the targets by the lights.
“Must have a generator for some of the troops,” Murdock said. “You didn’t see any power poles or lines in there, did you, Juan?”
“No, sir. Before we saw some lamps, but no electric ones like this. Maybe new, maybe they just use them for defense.”
“Any limits on type of arms?” Jaybird asked.
“No EAR unless absolutely necessary. We want to punish these guys. We don’t even need to occupy the buildings. Just waste them with the twenties and anybody who comes running out or to the defense. We should be able to take down each site and move on to the next one. We’ll all keep in touch with the Motorolas. If one squad runs into trouble, tell us where you are and how we can help. The twenties should do the job on most buildings. Shoot through doors and windows. If the door isn’t open, one contact round will blow it halfway across the building. Questions?”
“Targets are only the green-uniformed guys?” Ostercamp asked.
“You may return fire at anyone shooting at you no matter what clothes he’s wearing. The uniformed rebels are our main targets.”
“What kind of return fire?” Senior Chief Sadler asked.
“After the first attack, they will be ready. We expect some machine-gun fire, and automatic rifles and sub guns. We don’t think they have anything heavier. We’ll have to wait and find out.”
By that time the sudden night had closed in, and they worked their way slowly down the slope to the jungle
at the edge of the road. Juan led Bravo Squad downstream along the road to be closer to his targets. Lam kept Alpha Squad at the first road they had seen into the town, the one with the red building.
“Ready, Bravo,” Juan said on the Motorola.
“Let’s do it,” Murdock said. “Move out, hit the targets, vanish into the jungle across the road by squads, and return to LZ. Move.”
Juan took the jungle-cammy-clad squad down the narrow street into the town. It had mostly wooden buildings and a few made of stone and rock. They jogged in fifty yards without seeing a person; then two men idling on a corner ran into a building. Another fifty yards ahead they came toward the three-story headquarters building. The SEALs spread out and DeWitt came on the Motorola.
“Let’s do it. Twenties first. Open fire.”
The sharp sound of the 20mm rounds being fired cracked into the jungle stillness, followed almost at once by the blasting sound of the twenties going off inside and on the outside of the building. Eight of the heavy rounds punched inside windows and exploded, bringing screams and wails. Green-clad men rushed out the front door with their weapons ready, but were cut down by machine-gun and sniper fire as the SEALs poured it on.
Six men rushed from the darkness toward the dimly lit exterior of the building, and were splattered by a contact 20mm round that exploded in the middle of them. Only one man could crawl away from the murderous shrapnel.
Colt Franklin put two 40mm white phosphorus grenades into the building. One smashed through a second-story window and exploded in white death and fire, setting the whole room ablaze. The second round bounded off a wall, went off next to it, and set the wall on fire and rained furiously burning bits of white phosphorus into a machine-gun bunker just to the right of the doorway. The two men there, preparing to fire the weapon, were splattered with the burning particles and ran into the night screaming and slapping at the sticky material that couldn’t be put out and bored through cloth, leather, skin, and bone until it burned itself up.
“Hold your fire except for green shirts,” DeWitt said into his lip mike. Two men bailed out a smashed window on the first floor, and were promptly dropped with sniper fire. A machine gun chattered from the far corner of the building. Hot lead slammed into the ground and overhead. DeWitt put a 20mm round on the corner of the building and silenced the MG.
Another burst of firing broke out in the third floor of the structure. Then all went silent. A siren wailed somewhere in the distance. They could hear gunfire. Alpha Squad was busy upstream.
Ed DeWitt watched the building. If it was the headquarters of the rebels, there weren’t many men inside. Maybe too late at night. How long could he wait here watching the place?
“Twenties, one more round each in windows. Canzoneri and I on the first floor. Jefferson and Mahanani second and third in that order. Let’s fire, now.”
The four big twenties roared into the night, and the resulting blasts inside the building were muted, but nevertheless had a sharp cracking roar. After a minute no one else exited the structure.
“Juan, next objective,” DeWitt said.
Juan moved them rapidly down a full block to a building that showed a dozen lights through windows. Two guards in green uniforms stood at the front door. Both had submachine guns held in front of them and ready. They had been looking at the headquarters and then the other way at sounds of more small arms.
Juan and the SEALs paused at the corner of a wooden building.
“This is a supply depot for them,” Juan said. “I didn’t get inside, but there are all sorts of military supplies and I’d guess ammo as well.”
Two windows showed on the near side, one in front.
“Twenties, you’ve got numbers, front-to-back marching order. First two twenties the side windows, last two those front windows. Three rounds each. Fire when ready.”
The four guns went off almost at the same time, and the resulting explosions from inside were softer than usual. After the second salvo of rounds, they could see fire gushing inside. The last rounds brought secondary explosions, and half a dozen men ran out the front door. Khai and Fernandez blasted them before they were ten feet from the door.
They watched a moment as another explosion wracked the place and hundreds of small-arms rounds began cooking off in the fire.
“Haul ass,” DeWitt barked, and Bravo Squad ran up the street behind Juan, who led them. They stopped after about fifty yards. They could still see the building behind them. Now flames licked through the roof; the building would be a total loss, including everything inside it.
“What’s next?” DeWitt asked.
“Barracks,” Juan said. “With all this action it’s certain that they will be empty. The men probably were routed out and are on guard around the place.”
“Show us,” DeWitt said.
They passed two long blocks of buildings later, part wood, part bamboo, and nipa-leaf-thatched. Juan stopped behind a wooden structure and pointed around the corner.
“The only building over there with two stories and lots of windows. No guards out front. No lights on inside. There should be lights this time of evening.”
De Witt pulled up the NVGs and studied the layout. “Men prone facing outward on these two sides of the building,” DeWitt said. “All four twenties to laser sightings on the front of the barracks from one end to the other. First two guns left, last two to right. Everyone fire at the front and side of the building when the twenties go.”
They fired. The lasers worked on two rounds, with airbursts directly over the prone figures. The other two twenty-rounds exploded on the side of the building flashing hot shrapnel to the side and rear.
A dozen rebels jumped up and ran to the side away from the attack. The SEAL gunners trailed them, bringing down half of them.
“Another airburst for us all,” DeWitt said. The rounds went off almost before the sound of the shots came. They were all airbursts this time, and riddled the men left on the ground.
“Franklin, that roof looks tinder dry. See if you can lob a couple of forties on it,” DeWitt said. DeWitt and the rest of Bravo Squad had heard the progress of Alpha Squad on the radio. They tried not to pay any attention to it, intent on their own situation.
Franklin fired his first 40mm round from the launcher under his Colt M-4A1. It landed long, and they didn’t see the spray of white phosphorus. He adjusted, and the second round splattered all over the roof. Now they saw it was made of wooden shingles, and within seconds the shingles caught fire from the furiously burning WP.
“Next?” DeWitt asked Juan, who ran beside him. They had put a half block between them and the barracks.
“Down a short ways,” Juan said. “Lots of men around it. Looked like a clinic or maybe a hospital.”
“No,” DeWitt said at once. “We don’t do hospitals. We’re done. Get us out of here, now.”
Murdock came on the radio. “Right call, DeWitt. Get your men back to the jungle beyond the road. We have one more target here and we’ll meet you.”
“You heard me,” DeWitt said. “Get us back to the jungle the safest way. We don’t want to go by any of the targets.”
Murdock heard that conversation as well, and looked back at his own problem. Lam had not been sure of the third target. It was supposed to be the red building, but now they couldn’t find it. The few streets looked identical. They saw the fires burning downstream, and knew it wasn’t in that direction. Lam squinted into the night, then grinned.
“Okay, down this way about fifty yards and we should be there. Everything looks different in here.”
They came up on the red building slowly. They saw no one on the street. Murdock had guessed that there would be armed patrols running all over the place by now. Good. The rebels weren’t a real army yet. They must be short on discipline and command. Two vitals for any military operation.
The SEALs lay fifty yards from the red building and watched it. Two guards with the green shirts and pants of the rebel cause stood outside. B
oth had weapons at the ready.
No lights showed in the one window they could see. Murdock had asked before, and Stroh had said there were no 20mm rounds with WP. They sure would come in handy. Murdock wondered if the small size of the round compared to the 40mm grenades was the problem. Maybe they couldn’t pack enough WP into such a small size to be of much value.
“Bradford, you and I’ll put twenties through that window and see what happens. Give me a ready.” A second later, Bradford did. “Fire,” Murdock said. The two rounds went off almost together. One hit the front of the building; the other went through the glass. The front round killed both guards and blew a hole in the wall as it exploded. The second round blasted inside.
They waited. Nothing happened. No men came out. The place didn’t burn. “Lam,” Murdock said. “Try three rounds of WP on that one. Now.”
Lam fired. The first one was short, the second hit just in front of the wooden structure, and the third dropped on the roof. In the first glow of the WP they could see that the roof was partly nipa leaves, and the fronds burst into fire at once.
“Out of here,” Murdock said. “Lam, which way, and let’s chogie at double time.”
Lam led them back on the street and two long blocks to the road. They charged across it and into the brush and greenery of the rain forest. Once they were fifty yards into the jungle, Murdock called a halt.
“DeWitt, are you and your men in the green?”
“Yeah, we’re out, probably still downstream from you. We’re getting ready to move. We took some return fire, and I don’t know when it happened, but we’ve got one man shot up pretty bad. He says he can walk, but Mahanani said no way. How deep are you in the brush?”
“Fifty yards. Work the road. We haven’t seen any kind of resistance. We’ll get close to the road and wait.”
Murdock moved his squad back so they could see the road and offer defensive fire if needed.
Three minutes later, Lam lifted his head and turned his head so his ear was toward the trail. “Coming,” Lam said. “Not sure who. Somebody. Making too much noise.”
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