Seal Team Seven 5 - Firestorm
Page 4
"Lucian, what do you know of this SEAL unit that went in and brought back the Chinese invasion plans?"
"Best platoon of SEALS we have, Mr. President. Best leader, too. He led the SEALS on that nuclear threat by the Arab militant fringe in the North Sea on that oil-drilling and refining platform a few months back. Saved our hides on that one. He's had several SEAL missions before that. The nuclear material coming into the Near East on that Japanese freighter that was hijacked.
"If there's a man and a platoon in the SEALS who can do the job, it's Lieutenant Blake Murdock and his fifteen men."
The President winced. "Sixteen men to take care of four major invasion threats like these? How is that possible, Admiral?"
"The SEALS believe that anything is possible, Mr. President. I've seen them in action close up. Their planning is intensive. This isn't admirals and secretaries of defense setting around a table in the Pentagon spelling our strategies and assaults. "Mese are the men who will go in and do the work. Two officers and fourteen enlisted men, and every SEAL in the unit can have his say about how to do an operation.
"All of Murdock's men are bloodied. All have been on recent combat operations. It's your call, Mr. President. But I'd say a covert action right now is our best bet. Even if we don't pull it off, we'll hamper their invasion to some degree. On the other hand, if we don't act, they will swarm all over Taiwan and we lose another battle."
The President stood. "Thanks, Lucian. I can always count on you for the facts. I'll let you know which way we'll go."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
5
Thursday, May 14
1022 hours USS Dorchester Taiwan Strait After five hours of work laying out preliminary plans for attacking the four phases of the Chinese invasion of Taiwan, the men of Third Platoon turned in for some long-overdue sack time. Murdock had made a quick rundown on the plans with Stroh, who made a couple of suggestions and said he hadn't heard from the Commander in Chief yet.
Murdock decided a few hours' sleep would be beneficial to him as well, and he hit the bunk in his closet-sized room. He had made sure that his men had proper quarters before he turned on the snooze alarm.
David "Jaybird" Sterling, platoon chief of Third Platoon, lay on his bunk with his eyes wide open. He hadn't slept for well over twenty-four hours, but he still couldn't get to sleep. His mind charged from one of the four actions they had outlined to the next. Evaluating, working up possible improvements, different tactics. Then it all came crashing down. This speculation was worthless until they got the word. They couldn't do a damn thing until the President decided if they would try to stop the invasion.
He laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the bunk above him. A year ago he would never have thought he'd be where he was now. He had thirteen men to watch, to bitch at, to coddle, to persuade, to order if he had to into whatever project or job they had at hand. He had thirteen men depending on him. He was responsible for their lives.
When in hell was the brass in D.C. going to decide what they would do?
He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on Coronado. Coronado, California, and that long spit of land that connects the Jewel City to the mainland at Imperial Beach. On that strip of sand and earth perches the Naval Amphibious Base. Part of that facility is the headquarters of Naval Special Warfare. It's on the San Diego Bay side of the strand just off State Highway 75.
On the Pacific Ocean side is the BUD/S training center with the headquarters built around a courtyard. There are many slogans carved in wood and printed in that area. One says, "The more you sweat in peace, the less you bleed in war." Another one says, "The only easy day was yesterday."
SEAL training. Damn. Jaybird would never forget it. He had arrived nervous and scared. He'd heard all sorts of harsh and devastating stories about the rigorous training the SEALS underwent, but he knew it couldn't be as tough as they all portrayed. He was wrong. It was harder.
The stories didn't come halfway to the truth of the pain, the sweat, the pressure, the agony of SEAL training. Nor of the ecstasy when he completed it and knew he had won the biggest fight of his life, the fight with himself.
One of the purposes of the SEAL training is to stretch each man's capability to his limit, to let him relax a moment and then stretch him again beyond where he had been before, and eventually far, far beyond anything he had thought he was capable of.
A lot of SEAL candidates quit. The dropout rate reaches 90 in some classes. One class closed because every man in the group quit. The usual dropout rate is about 50 for each group.
At one corner of the courtyard at the headquarters is a large brass "quitting bell." It used to be a man could ring the bell three times, put down the helmet, and quit the training. Now they had stopped using the bell. The Navy decided that using it created a serious psychological problem for those leaving training. Bullshit!
Even now, Jaybird found it hard to believe that the training lasted for twenty-six weeks. That's six months of Hell for the men who try it. Jaybird had heard that SEAL training was 90 mental and only 10 physical. He had never believed that. But the mental strain was tremendous.
Those with a weak commitment or a flagging will almost certainly don't make it through the training. Those who survive the twenty-six weeks of fatigue, pain, and grueling exercises beyond anything they had ever known are the strong ones. They can be counted on in combat when the lives of the SEALS are on the line and they must perform their jobs flawlessly, quickly, and with decisiveness. Then you are a SEAL.
Jaybird remembered the obstacle course at Coronado. Damn, it was the toughest in the world. He'd learned to hate the diving tower, a fifty-foot-deep tank filled with water. He'd almost drowned there once. One phase of their training was "waterproofing." The trainees were tied hand and foot and dropped into the tank. They sank to the bottom, then paddled slowly to the surface, took big breaths, and then sank to the bottom again. They don't use that tank anymore. Now they have a new twelve-foot-deep pool instead.
The idea is to train the men not to fear the water, and not to panic. Most people drown because they panic in the water.
The long strand of clean sand beach and the Pacific Ocean just outside the fence from headquarters were also part of the exclusive SEAL training areas. He quickly became acquainted with the IBSS, the Inflatable Boat, Small. Jaybird became devilishly familiar with them while learning teamwork. One of the exercises was for the seven men to lug an IBS around on their heads.
Climbing ropes tore up arms and shoulders regularly, but also served in the long run to build those muscles for top upper body strength. Then there were the telephone poles that teams of SEALS lifted and held and carried until their bodies ached beyond belief.
It had taken Jaybird only a week to learn that while individual training was important, the emphasis in BUD/S was on teamwork. That teamwork became so ingrained in the candidates that they would later function as a team without thinking, reacting to a situation as they had been trained.
The SEAL trainee starts with a Fourth Phase program, a four-to-seven-week time slot in which he gets his equipment, learns how to use it, and is given an outline of the training requirements. Jaybird had looked in awe at the posted tests
Swim a half mile in the pool without fins in thirty minutes.
Swim a mile in the pool without fins in sixty minutes.
Take a one-mile swim in the San Diego Bay with fins in fifty minutes.
Run a two-mile course in sixteen minutes.
Swim a mile and a half in the Pacific Ocean with fins in seventy-five minutes.
Run a four-mile course in thirty-two minutes.
Officers who take the BUD/S training have no rank during training. They are treated the same way the lowest seaman is--with vigor and toughness and with an eye toward washing out anyone who can't measure up. The officers are treated differently in one aspect. In certain written tests the officers must score ten points higher than the enlisted candidates to pass.
Jaybird remembered the log.
Not just any log. His boat team's log. The boat team is a training unit that helps teach team effort. Jaybird would never forget the first day they met their log.
Seven men made up a boat team, and they would be together for the rest of the training. They marched out to a stack of telephone poles, each twenty feet long and weighing three hundred pounds. The seven of them picked up one pole and carried it where instructed.
Then they were told to lie down and bring the log onto their chests. The next order puzzled them at first. They were commanded to do sit-ups with the pole held to their chests. The whole point was that all seven men working together and at the same time could do the sit-ups lifting the telephone pole at the same time. But if one of the seven didn't lift his weight, the other six bodies couldn't do it by themselves.
They were starting to learn the teamwork that is the hallmark of every SEAL who ever graduated from BUD/S training.
For weeks their pole was never far from their sweating bodies. They did push-ups with their toes resting on top of the log. They raised it over their heads while lying flat on their backs, held it all the way up, halfway up, then did push-ups with it.
Once they ran a race along the beach for fourteen miles with the seven of them carrying the log. Sometimes they ran over sand dunes to the surf. There they had to drop the log, flop into the surf, then pick up their very own log again, and run back to the starting point.
Platoon Chief Jaybird Sterling turned over on the bunk trying to find a comfortable position. When the hell were the brass in D.C. going to make up their minds? It was a simple answer, yes or no. He checked his watch. It'd been an hour since the SEALS had finished their preliminary planning. What in hell was going on?
The next thing Jaybird knew the L-T was shaking his shoulder.
"Up time. Let's move. We catch a chopper in fifteen minutes. We're taking a damn quick ride to the big floating football field on the ocean. Move."
"What's the word, go or no go?" Jaybird asked.
"Wish I knew. Let's get out of here. We'll find out for sure on the carrier."
6
Thursday, May 14
1722 hours USS Intrepid South China Sea The big Sea Stallion CH-53-D had come in from the south and hovered two feet off the deck of the sub, and the sixteen SEALS crawled on board with all of their equipment used in the shoreline attack.
Joe "Ricochet" Lampedusa had to be helped into the chopper because he was well doped up on painkillers and antibiotics. By then he wasn't feeling the pain in his arm. Neither bone had been broken, and he bellowed that he'd be ready for duty in four hours. Murdock knew he wouldn't be.
Don Stroh jumped in behind them along with one other civilian Murdock didn't know and Hubert Wong, the CIA Chinese interpreter.
An hour later they walked off the chopper on the deck of the supercarrier Intrepid, and were led by a white shirt to their quarters. A white shirt on a carrier deck is the safety officer who helps route pedestrians in and around the flight deck so they don't get killed. Murdock checked out the living space for his men, approved it, then went to the cabin assigned him and L-T Dewitt. The room was large compared to the submarine's offering. Before they got their gear stowed, a knock sounded on the door. Don Stroh stood there with a phony grin. "Hey, guys, I think it's time you both had some background on this China-Taiwan tussle. Family feud is what it is. Herb Wong, who met you before, can give you a briefing in about an hour. It's worthwhile."
Murdock scowled. "Why just the two of us? If it's worthwhile for us, it's just as important for the rest of our men. SEALS don't have 'officer country' secrets. You should know that by now, Stroh."
The CIA op grinned. ""Deed I do, Lieutenant. Just thought I'd give you the option. We can do this in the crew's quarters if they'd be happier there."
Murdock dropped his Draeger rebreather on his bunk. "Fine, let's do it right now. Any go from the White House yet?"
"Not a whisper. You'll probably know which way before I do. I'll let you lead the way to your men."
Ten minutes later, Murdock was glad they were getting the briefing. In addition to several dialects of Chinese, Hubert Wong spoke perfect English. He should. He was from Boise, Idaho. He had been a practicing attorney before he went with the CIA.
Murdock settled down and listened.
"What we're dealing with here is the oldest organized nation on earth, and a second outfit that is an upstart of a mere fifty years. The People's Republic of China is not a republic or a democracy and is ruled by an elitist clique with dictatorial powers. One estimated population of China is one point three billion people. That's a B as in billion.
"This tiny neighbor, just ninety miles off the mid-China coast, was originally called Formosa by the Portuguese rulers, and has been called Taiwan or Nationalist China or the Republic of China, and now calls itself the Republic of Taiwan. Taiwan has about twenty-two million people. That means China has sixty times as many citizens as Taiwan does.
"The only thing certain about Taiwan's future is the uncertainty of the island's future. Will it become a full-fledged nation in its own right, or a province of China, or remain in limbo as it has for the past fifty years?
"Physically, Taiwan is dwarfed by China. Taiwan is about two hundred and fifty miles long and eighty miles at its widest point. Some twenty smaller islands are close by and considered a part of Taiwan. It is about the same size as the state of Massachusetts. It includes two islands near the China coast, Matsu and Quemoy, that have caused problems in the past.
"There is proof of human life on Taiwan dating back ten thousand years. These were aborigines and not Chinese. Many think they came from Malaysia. In the early history of the Chinese dynasties, there is little mention of Taiwan other than to say it was not a part of China.
"In 1517, the Portuguese found Taiwan and named it Formosa, or beautiful island. Spanish invaders took over the island in 1626, but were booted out by the Dutch in 1628.
"I bet all these dates are boring to you men. Enough to say that Dutch ruled for thirty-three years.
"A Chinese rebel defeated the Dutch in 1661 and brought thousands of Chinese to the island. He fought the dynasties on the mainland, but at last his island was captured by Manchu troops from China in 1683.
"After a quick war with Japan that China lost in 1895, China ceded Taiwan and the Pescadores to Japan. Japan's ability to organize and develop served Taiwan well, and it was soon on its way to becoming a modern society. All developments in business and industry were channeled to Japan, and more than ninety percent of its exports went back to Japan.
"In World War II, Taiwan was described by Japan as an unsinkable aircraft carrier. It was used as the base of operations for the Japanese invasion of the Philippines and other lands, including Indonesia.
"At the end of World War II, Taiwan was stripped from Japan and Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek was assured that control of the island would be returned to China. Chiang was then in control of Mainland China. Chiang's Nationalist China sent military forces to Taiwan and his officials handled the administration of the island. "In October 1945, Nationalist Chinese authorities formally took over political control of Taiwan. It was known as Retrocession Day, and Taiwan became a part of the Republic of China.
"That's the Nationalist China bunch we're talking about here under Chiang Kai-shek. Soon he was fighting the Chinese Communists, who were trying to take over China. The situation on Taiwan went from good to extremely bad. The Chinese sent to Taiwan didn't know how to handle the advanced technological developments the Japanese had left. The civil rule and law and health all went into a serious tailspin, and soon the local Taiwanese thought the Mainland Chinese were worse than their long-time occupying forces from Japan.
"Then in 1949, Chiang's forces were defeated by the Communists and he and most of his government fled by boat to Taiwan where they would be safe from the Communists. More than a million and a half people surged into Taiwan when the economy was al
ready in serious trouble.
"In the spring of 1950, Mao Tse-tung planned to invade Taiwan and return it to China's rule. Bad planning, few boats, and a terrible health crisis brought on by liver flukes in China delayed the planned invasion. In mid-1950 the Korean War started, and the U.S. sent the Seventh Fleet to the Taiwan Strait to shield Taiwan from invasion by China.
"With peace and protection by the U.S., Taiwan could look to reform. They began with land reform, returning the land to the people, and with U.S. help did an outstanding job. That was the start of reforms that soon transformed Taiwan into a place with the fastest-growing economy in the world.
"As Taiwan's economy, her standard of living, and more and more freedom for her people soared, China was stagnated with too many people, not enough industry, and a sluggish economy that had no firm foundation. This aggravated the Mainland Chinese even more and some say this is the main reason why the Communists want to capture Taiwan and bring the island into line as a China province."
Wong took a pull from a soft drink and looked at the men.
"So, are there any questions?"
Magic Brown turned his big brown eyes and his black face upward and stared at the speaker. Then he grinned. "Mr. Wong, just why the hell do we need to know all this?"
There was an immediate hurrahing and lots of laughter in the quarters. Wong looked surprised. Then he grinned.
"You need to know it because your commanding officer said you did. Best damn reason I can think of."
"Yeah, me too," Brown said, and they all laughed again. Murdock stood and shook Wong's hand.
"If China ever gets her act together, those one point three billion Chinese are going to be a real pain in the butt."
Stroh laughed at that and he and Wong started out. Stroh made it to the outside door, where a sailor handed him a piece of paper. He read it and headed back to Murdock.
"Hey, Lieutenant, you've got a phone call. The Chief of Naval Operations himself back in D.C. wants to talk with you. He's on the horn right now and we're due up in the communications room."