by Tom Anthony
Radio FM 99.3 broadcast until midnight every day of the week. Seven minutes before scheduled sign-off on this particular night, Mahir, Lateef and the rest of the Abu Sayaf hit squad burst through the door. Lateef pressed a short knife to the neck of the program manager, nicking it and drawing a drop of blood. He calmly told the terrified man, “Walk fast out of town, do not look back or ever return. Your announcer inside stays with us.” The terrified man complied, perhaps walking a bit faster than even Lateef expected, and the NPA had its radio station.
What they had captured was a two-story wooden building, a diesel generator, a transformer and an FM transmitter of sufficient strength to reach a parabolic area of geography that covered the western coast of Mindanao 90 miles north and south of the station and extending 75 miles inland. In effect, it covered the four provinces that would constitute the core of the new country, the Islamic Republic of Mindanao. Residents who did not listen to the station personally would still get the news, delivered by word of mouth as fast as traffic or pedestrians moved; radyo de baktas was the “walking radio” that kept everyone informed.
The next morning when the early crew and later the office staff arrived, they were told the property was now an asset of the NPA. The temporary flag cut from a red tee shirt with a black portrait of Che Guevara flew from a bamboo pole. Two of the boys who did clean-up work and cooking asked to stay on, as did one of the D.J.’s, and they were accepted into the revolution. When the D.J. signed on the next morning, he announced for the first time, “Radio Free Mindanao is on the air,” and informed the listeners that he would no longer play decadent foreign music. The first song he chose was Freddie Aguilar’s vocal version of Mindanao, then several selections of tribal gong and drum music, followed by Imam Ali announcing prayer time, which would thereafter be done five times daily. The Koran was read by religious leaders between more old folk songs. On the noon news, Radio Free Mindanao announced the formation of the Islamic Republic of Mindanao and called for elections to be held on the 40th anniversary of the founding of the NPA, the communist New Peoples Army. Choosing this auspicious date should help get the scattered NPA elements still hiding in the provinces to join efforts with the coalition. It was just thirty-one days away, the sooner the better. They did not care about how many people actually voted, just as long as those who showed up voted the right way and a public event demonstrated to their constituents and to the world the strength of their movement.
25
Rebellion
Colonel Liu was livid. How could a bunch of farmers and a few terrorists announce Radio Free Mindanao? What the hell will they do next? His boss in Manila and certainly the President of the Philippines and shortly after that the Western world would be shocked to hear that a new radio station out of Sultan Kudarat, the predominantly Muslin western province of Mindanao, was playing Muslim folk music around the clock and readings from the Koran. Prominent ulamas, Muslim religious leaders of the province, were invited to preach on the air in support of kidnapping for ransom and other coercive means to collect revenue for the logistical needs of the cause. A massive exodus of the Christian population out of Mindanao could be the drastic consequence. This scenario the central government in Manila could not accept.
When he heard the first broadcast from Radio Free Mindanao, Liu was riding in his jeep on the transverse road forming the base of a triangle at the junction of the Banga and the Alah rivers, where his infantry presently contained the main NPA force. He had to get to his command post to go over the situation with the captains assigned to Task Force Davao. Together they would need to figure out what to report to Manila. Maybe the President would let the U.S. Air Force take out just that one target. The situation had escalated to such a point that President Cayton might be willing to accept the political backlash. It was better than losing Mindanao. Liu fidgeted beside his driver in the front seat of their jeep while it bounced along, continuously knocking his knee against a loaded M-16 rifle secured in a bracket between them.
Every time his nervous driver heard the metallic clank of metal against metal he instinctively beeped his horn. Frustration increased with each delay as they swerved slowly in and out of pedestrian traffic. Master Sergeant Rivera had driven his colonel everywhere in peace and in war for fifteen years, and now, down this backwater road, he was confounded that his periodic beeping had little effect on the civilians blocking passage. The jeep had to wait at the outskirts of a village while a midnight-black water buffalo dragged a sled loaded with equally black mud off the road, every wasted minute adding to the colonel’s consternation and making him more restless.
The task force commander knew exactly where the Abu Sayaf was; he could hear them on that damned radio station they had captured in Itig. He had reported back to Galan in Manila that he had the main NPA force cut off in the triangle, but his credibility had been damaged by that one, small Abu Sayaf patrol that had slipped out and seemed to roam around at will, even taking over a radio station. His task force needed to put a stop to this nonsense and eliminate these damned insurgentos, as they had been called since the United States’ first counter-insurgency war in 1902, when the American army of occupation in the Philippines became a cause for Muslim revolutionaries to band together for the first time. Now, over a hundred years later, the new and continuing insurgency was no longer limited to opposition of foreign intervention in the country. Much worse, a large part of the country had declared independence from the republic. How could those semi-illiterate bandits and extortionists simply declare themselves to be a new country!
As soon as Liu arrived back at his new field command post near Isulan, he swung out of the jeep and marched to the table under a canvas tent where his staff was drinking coffee and smoking. Liu remained standing after they came to attention and saluted, letting them also stand for an uncomfortable minute, not giving them an immediate “At ease.”
“How did they take that radio station? We had them isolated in the triangle, Bautista! What the hell is going on, Captain?” Liu confronted his subordinate officer.
“It can’t be the same force that attacked the radio station, sir. The main NPA contingent was confused and wandering into the triangle,” the young captain reported, with no outward emotion, looking straight ahead at the large, hand-drawn map of Mindanao nailed to a board on the post holding up the tent.
“It was the same in my area, Colonel Liu,” said the other young officer, supporting his comrade, “a major force was directly in front of us, and they are still in that position. They were not capable of mounting an attack as far away as Itig.”
“I think that’s it. You said ‘major force.’ Sit down.” The officers sat. Liu put them at ease. “It would not take a large effort to capture a radio station, only a patrol. But I can still hear them on the radio!
“It would have been easy for a small hunter-killer guerrilla patrol to move through the jungle or at any time along the highway without our detection, especially during the night. They would have local guides with them who know the territory,” Colonel Liu concluded.
“Yes, sir.” Captain Bautista risked calling the Colonel’s attention to his earlier command. “You ordered us not to close down the roads to civilian traffic. A small unit could drive into Itig, unnoticed.”
“OK. Get me Manila on a secure connection.” Liu could not wait any longer.
His call was put through to Martin Galan immediately, who told him right off, “I have this from the President, Reggie, take your task force and move now and wipe them all out. We may have political costs to pay later for going on a punitive expedition, but political memories fade quickly, and a breakaway state may stay broken away for a long time. We need to move now and be decisive. CNN is making us look like fools.”
Liu answered with a “Yes, sir,” and once again saw either promotion to his first star and a probable fast track to more promotions after that, or disgrace and perhaps even jail time if the Abu Sayaf were not defeated. Galan could later deny he had authoriz
ed what some might consider extralegal or even unconstitutional methods that resulted in the loss of life, whether of Philippine soldiers or innocent indigenous tribe people.
“I’m counting on you. I’m on my way to the presidential palace now, and I can keep things quiet for a while. What do you need to get the job done quickly?” Galan was now talking on his cell phone from inside his car; Liu could hear Manila traffic puffing and beeping in the background.
“I need firepower. I need boots on the ground, lots of them. And I need artillery. The quicker you can get them to me, the quicker I can execute your orders.”
“OK, I’ll handle it. Keep the road behind you open.”
“Roger, out,” Liu responded and returned to his meeting.
It fell on Colonel Liu as the Task Force commander to state realistically to his captains how he saw their current situation. He stood up and started to speak in his military academy lecture voice again, “The Abu Sayaf, the MNLF, NPA, NFD, CPP, MILF, ICI, BILF and the rest of that alphabet soup of loosely related groups of obscure and hopeless causes have achieved some degree of unity. If they can organize and coordinate, and formulate realistic political objectives, they could actually win independence. Mindanao is in rebellion!” Liu ended his lecture, sat down, and changed the tone of his voice to outline his objective for the coming battle.
“We must attack and severely degrade the ability of the insurgents to conduct war. Foreign terrorists are fighting a civil war against our law-biding citizens, tricking them into an alliance they do not understand. We must defeat their ability to control the countryside. We need to make them hurt so much that they will not try to revolt again.” He could not mince words; the officers immediately subordinate to him had to understand that he did not want to take prisoners, but he could not say that directly.
Major Hayes had walked into the tent. When Liu stopped speaking, and the other officers had left, he addressed the colonel, “Well spoken, sir. If I may give my opinion, you know I am here only as an observer.
But I can encourage you. I heard our president speak to your congress last year. He told them that our two nations have made the choice together to defend ourselves and not to be intimidated by terrorists. This Abu Sayaf group pretends to act for God, but no religion tolerates murder. My country supports your effort to wipe them out. But you did not hear that from me. And you will never hear it from our ambassador.”
“Thank you, Major Hayes.” Liu leaned back in the folding chair that Master Sergeant Rivera had brought out for him. “My superiors in Manila have informed me of actions taken by the U.S. to cut off fund transfers to Abu Sayaf leaders and to block their bank accounts. That makes the insurgency desperate for the money shipment moving in now. They will resolutely defend it.”
Hayes pulled up a chair, unhooked his armored vest and sat down. “I think you have your forces spread too thinly. Consider massing against specific targets. Make it difficult for them to survive in the jungle.”
“We try to surround NPA units whenever we locate them, Major, but they disperse swiftly. They go back to their farms and villages, and hide their guns.” Liu was telling the American advisor the simple facts. “They operate in small and isolated units, you know.”
“Yes, I know, Colonel, but not this time. I have new intelligence for you. General Hargens asked me to pass it on. The NPA is pulling out of the triangle. STAGCOM tracked them.”
“If true, that’s a new tactic for them, moving together and coordinated.”
“Yes, it is. You need to improve your maneuverability; don’t just stay on the highways. But right now, you know where they are, so go after them before they all move out of the triangle.”
Liu reminded Hayes, “The communist insurgency has been resilient. We push, they give way, then the rebels snap back when we leave an area. But I think something is changing. If an elite NPA force is massing around Itig, they’re changing their focus and will engage in mass attacks.”
Hayes thought about the bigger political picture. Peace negotiations between the MNLF and the Philippine government had been going on endlessly. Now generations had passed since the Philippines had actually fought together with the Americans against a common enemy, the Japanese, which united them. But after the end of World War II, the most recent of three generations of Filipino Christians and Muslims fought each other and the jostling for power did not satisfy either party. “Your rebels here are getting impatient for change. They’ve been fighting you for a long time, and now even talk between you has stopped. They’ll try something new.” Hayes thought it was a good time to lay it all on the table.
“I can’t help that; the insurgents unilaterally backed out of the peace negotiations. And then they changed their mission and their methods,” the colonel responded.
“OK, but the AFP has 80,000 infantry soldiers throughout the country available for combat, and supporting units such as artillery and combat engineers, against only 7,000 NPA. What does it take? What’s wrong with you?” Hayes, the advisor and observer, would have liked to have had an overwhelming advantage like that when he went into combat in past conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.
“I hear your message, Major.” The tone of his voice when he said ‘Major” contained more than polite impatience. “Maybe now, for the first time, you will see what the AFP can do.” For the rest of the briefing, the American major was silent while Colonel Liu made his plans.
Shortly after noon, Liu was satisfied, he wouldn’t wait for reinforcements. He dismissed his men after ordering them, “Move at the times I have assigned; Bautista and your company, just after nightfall. Agustin, be ready before sun-up tomorrow. Now, go get your men ready. The time has come.”
26
The Triangle
At the Task Force Davao command post beside the road, a dog barked someplace in the dark. It would soon be dawn. Colonel Liu put on his fatigue uniform, packed up his combat gear, pushed aside the canvas flaps and left his tent. He had already been awake for two hours, knowing he should be resting but not able to sleep. During his operational briefing the day before, Liu had assigned the troops available to him into two strike forces, each led by one of his experienced infantry captains and consisting of about 150 riflemen. Now it was time for action.
Major Hayes saw Liu walking across the packed-down, moist mud between their tents and approached him. He surprised his older ally with a sincere compliment, “Colonel Liu, I want to tell you, I respect your professionalism and wish you well today.”
“Thank you. I’ve lived through years of disillusionment—Filipinos fighting Filipinos. Perhaps that can end soon. You’re welcome to follow the action, but don’t get involved.” The ground rules could not be repeated too often.
As task force commander, Liu did not want to mix Americans together with the Philippine troops. He didn’t want CNN to report this as a joint operation; in fact, he hoped they would not report it at all. If he achieved a well-publicized victory over the Abu Sayaf, it would call attention to the fact that the struggle continued and that stability in Mindanao was a myth. And obviously a reported defeat at the hands of the insurgents would be far worse.
Liu might put up with STAGCOM. He could find a job for them; Thornton had some firepower, and STAGCOM could disappear quickly. It would cost him nothing to employ the Americans; they had their own incentives and objectives. Thank God they were in the bush and out of his way at the moment; he would not have any explaining to do no matter what happened. Major Hayes did not bother him; he could tag along and “observe.”
“Right, sir,” Hayes replied to Liu’s request to lay low. “I understand; I won’t be noticed.” Hayes had worked with Filipino officers in the field before and knew well the limitations placed upon him by the Status of Forces Agreement between the U.S. and the Philippines. Leading a team of American Green Berets during training exercises the previous year, he had instructed Filipinos in small unit tactics and knew the score. From his perspective, Hayes thought his most difficult ta
sk in the past had been getting the trainees to act like alert, seasoned professional soldiers rather than the tired veterans who had been engaged in anti-insurgency operations for ten years or more, with hardly any chance to visit their families. The Filipino soldier looked with envy at his police counterpart who was a civilian with an 8-to-5 job, so it turned out to be an even greater task to teach them to appreciate the fact that the best time to attack might be at night or near dawn and that they had to get out into the rain sometimes.
Marksmanship, map reading, and learning how to create and execute an operations order proved to be easier than changing their philosophy about what a soldier does—duty versus free time. Hayes had marveled at the Filipino soldier’s acceptance of duty. Duty meant hardship–traveling on foot because vehicles and even roads were limited; food was cold rations because cooking fires were easily seen; the farther the scene of encounter, the greater distance back to camp with the dead and wounded. But the Filipino soldier was a social animal—even in the boondocks, an Army encampment was always noisy and happy at night.
The result of months of training by Special Forces teams had yielded measurable improvement in mission accomplishment and overcoming basic bad habits. The U.S. gave the AFP rangers and elite paratroop units new rifles and combat gear, and marksmanship improved. Many of their old rifles were left over from the Vietnam era, and their constant use since then had worn smooth the rifling inside the barrels, so bullets would not pick up the spin they needed to follow a true trajectory to their target. The Americans also turned over to the Philippine Army older radios after the U.S. forces upgraded their own equipment, and issued the Filipinos night vision equipment. Now there could be no excuses, no more playing games and singing songs until bedtime. Hayes knew that the Filipinos had personal integrity, but they had to learn the art of war.