The New Breed

by W. E. B Griffin

  Taking Lowell along had been a good idea. Lowell had turned out to be an even better spare set of eyes than he had hoped he might be, zeroing in like a bird dog on several things the 2nd Armored probably hoped would not be noticed, and which he himself would probably have missed. Combat-readiness items, not chickenshit; and with the attitude of helping, not catching somebody with his hand in the cookie jar or asleep.

  And additionally, he had been a pleasant companion. General Evans thought he might make a habit of having Lowell fly when he visited other units. His ability to fly the airplane was icing on the cake.

  It was Wednesday, and on Wednesday afternoons he liked to play golf. What General Evans wanted to do was go to his quarters, take a shower (he had worked up quite a sweat before leaving Hood, and the L-23 had been full on the long ride home), and then at least knock a couple of buckets of balls down the driving range.

  But he told his driver to take him to the office. There were some things about Hood that he wanted to get down on paper while they were fresh in his mind, and maybe with a little luck he could find time tomorrow to sneak away for a couple of hours to the golf course.

  "Colonel," he said, just as Lowell was about to close the door of the staff car, "unless you've got something really pressing, I'd like you to come along. I normally type up notes-to-myself when I'm back from someplace like 'Hell on Wheels,' and I'd like you to have a look at them."

  "Yes, Sir," Lowell said, and went around and got in the other side of the car.

  The STRICOM Chief of Staff, and General Evans's senior aide-de-camp and secretary were waiting for him when he got to the office. He dealt with his Chief of Staff first, listening to what had been done in his name in his absence and nodding his approval as the actions were reported one by one. The definition of a good chief of staff was an officer who would take the actions the boss would take if he were around to take them, and General Evans thought again that his present Chief of Staff, even if he were in the Air Force, was the best he had ever had.

  When he was through with his Chief of Staff, Evans made his aide-de-camp wait until he dictated to his secretary his thoughts on what he had seen and what had to be corrected at Fort Hood.

  Two memoranda' would be typed up. One, the "Memorandum for Record," would be duplicated and circulated to the staff and to Fort Hood. The other, "Notes, Ft Hood, 15-17 June 64," would not leave his office, and no one but his secretary would ever see it. He would refer to it later to refresh his memory.

  Then he dealt with his senior aide-de-camp. Most of that conversation dealt with his schedule for the next ninety-six hours.

  And, as he was supposed to, the senior aide-de-camp gave Evans a summary of the gossip that had come his way while CINC STRICOM had been at Hood.

  Rear Admiral (upper half) Ralph H. Summerall, USN, STRICOM J-2, appeared at that time. Evans would have preferred that Admiral Summerall put off whatever was on his mind until the staff conference in the morning. If anything important had happened, he would already have heard about it from his secretary, his senior aide, or his Chief of Staff. And probably in that order, he thought somewhat cynically as he smiled at Summerall.

  "Come on in, Ralph," he said. "Would you like some coffee?"

  "No thank you, Sir," Admiral Summerall said. "I'd like just a moment of your time, General." By that, he meant in private. It was easier to send the aide to fetch coffee than to explain, yet again, to Admiral Summerall mat his senior aide was privy to everything going on. And CINC STRICOM was tired.

  "What have you got, Ralph?" Evans asked when the aide left, dosing the door behind him.

  "I may be carrying coals to Newcastle, General," Admiral Summerall said, "but I decided you might not know, and I thought I should tell you, even though I hope you won't ask my sources. "

  "Wouldn't dream of it, Ralph," Evans said.

  "General Westmoreland is being sent to Indochina, vice General Hawkins," Summerall said.

  "I heard rumors about that," CINC STRICOM said. "But it's official now, huh?"

  "It will be, as of 20 June."

  "Interesting," CINC STRICOM said. "Westy's a good man."

  "And General Taylor is going to Saigon as ambassador," Admiral Summerall said. "As of 1 July."

  "I hadn't heard that. Very interesting." What the hell was that all about? Was Mai Taylor being sent over there as the ambassador or to keep an eye on Westy? Maybe both?

  "Well, then, I'm glad I decided to drop by," Admiral Summerall said.

  "I'm glad you did, too," CINC STRICOM said. "What else have you got for me?"

  "Nothing that won't wait until the staff conference, General," Admiral Summerall said. And then, as if he had just remembered, he reached in his pocket and came up with a sheet of folded paper. "Crypto called just as I was leaving my office to come here. And I volunteered to pick it up. I'm not sure how important it is, but it's classified Eagle. . . ."

  "Let me have it," STRICOM said.

  FROM MILA IT ACHE US EMBASSY LEOPOLDVILLE DEM REP OF CONGO FOR CINC STRICOM MCDILL AF BASE FLA FOLLOWING FROM COL DILLS CLASSIFIED SECRET DASH EAGLE QUOTE SOURCES RELIABILITY ONE STATE REBEL FORCE ESTIMATED STRENGTH 300 [THREE HUNDRED] OCCUPIED ALBERTVILLE ON LAKE TANGANYIKA DURING THE NIGHT FOURTEEN DASH FIFTEEN JUNE. BELIEVE ALL AMERICANS IN AREA ESCAPED BY AIR. FORCE BELIEVED TO BE LED BY NICHOLAS OLENGA SELF APPOINTED LEADER PAREN LT COL PAREN OF PEOPLE'S ARMY OF LIBERATION. STRONG POSSIBILITY ARMED BY CHICOM IN BUJUMBURA. CONGOLESE ARMY HAS MOVED TOWARD ALBERTVILLE WITH INTENTION REESTABLISH LEOPOLDVILLE CONTROL. DO NOT REPEAT NOT BELIEVE CONGOLESE ARMY AS PRESENTLY CONSTITUTED WILL PREVAIL.

  FURTHER DETAILS UPCOMING AS A V AILABLE. DILLS COLONEL END QUOTE END MESSAGE

  CINC STRICOM picked up one of the telephones on his desk and dialed a single digit.

  "Would you ask General Dyess to step in here right away, please? And if Colonel Lowell's out there, send him in, too." He turned to Admiral Summerall. "I presume General Dyess has not seen that?"

  "No, Sir, he has not. Am I missing something here, General?"

  "Right now, Admiral, you know as much as I do," CINC STRICOM said.

  There was almost immediately a knock at the door. A moment later Major General George Dyess, STRICOM J-3, entered without waiting for permission.

  "Have a look at this," Evans said, handing the message to him. "It just came in, Ralph brought it over."

  General Dyess read it. "The natives are restless, I see. You think this is important, Sir?"

  "Give it to Colonel Lowell, George," Evans said, and then answered Dyess's question: "I'm worried by the 'strong possibility' that the natives have been armed by the Chinese communists."

  "What would you like me to do?" General Dyess said.

  "Get OPLAN 15-6 out of the file," CINC STRICOM ordered.

  He looked at Lowell. "Any suggestions, Lowell?"

  "Private Portet, Sir," Lowell said.

  Both General Dyess and Admiral Summerall looked at him in curiosity.

  General Evans snorted and then nodded. "Yeah," he said.

  "Show OPLAN 15-6 and this message to Private Portet. See what he has to say. Have him put it on paper. When we have that and I want it as soon as you can get it-you come by the house. Bring Portet with you."

  "Yes, Sir," Lowell said.

  "Who is Private Portet?" Admiral Summerall asked.

  "He's a draftee who used to live in the Congo," CINC STRICOM explained. "Right now he's our resident expert on the place."

  "Apparently you don't think much of either your, or the Navy's, area intelligence specialist for the Congo?"

  "I know this young man lived in the Congo, where he flew for a cargo airline, and that he speaks the language," Evans said.

  "And I strongly suspect that when I telephone Colonel Sanford T. Felter and read him this TWX from Dills, the first thing he's going to ask me is what Portet has to say about it."

  XIII

  (One)

  Camp David, Maryland 17 June 1964

  Colonel Sanfor
d T. Felter came to Camp David on the Presidential Sikorsky H-34 helicopter sent to Washington to fetch Presidential Press Secretary Pierre Salinger. He was not the only hitchhiker. The Director of the USIA and a CIA briefing officer were also aboard.

  Felter had to wait until Johnson had seen all of these people before he was able to see the President.

  When it was his turn, he saw that the President was wearing a loud, flower-patterned, Hawaiian shirt with its tail hanging out.

  And he was making himself a drink. From the look on his face Felter could tell he was not in a good mood.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. President," Felter said.

  The President grunted. He did not offer Felter a drink.

  "I will try to be brief, Mr. President."

  "Go ahead."

  "I don't know, of course, how far the CIA briefing went with regard to Albertville-"

  "He never heard of it," the President said. "I asked him and he didn't know one fucking thing about it. I sent him to find out."

  "Sir?" Felter said, confused.

  "Albertville, in the Congo? That is what you're here to tell me about?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "The Senator from Oklahoma took time from his busy schedule to call me and ask what I intended to do about his people getting run out of there. I told him I was working on it. I told you to keep me advised, goddamn you. How come you're coming in now?"

  "Mr. President, I got my information thirty minutes before I got on the chopper."

  "Maybe I better ask the Senator from Oklahoma to keep me advised. He's apparently better informed than you are." Felter did not reply.

  "Well, let's hear it, Colonel. Better late than never, to coin a phrase. "

  "I have my information from two sources, Mr. President," Felter said. "From Colonel Dills, who is the STRICOM liaison officer in the Congo, and from Captain Lunsford, a Green Beret officer in the area. I would therefore rate my information as wholly reliable."

  "Late, but reliable," the President said sarcastically. "I suppose that's something."

  "Perhaps I could save some of your time, Mr. President, if I knew what the Senator has already told you."

  "He said he had a telephone call from one of his more important constituents who had his balls all up in an uproar. The constituent just had a telephone call from his man in the Congo, who said he had to charter an airplane to get his people out of some town because it had been taken over by some rebels."

  "That would be Mr. Swayer, of Unit Rig, Mr. President, and it explains why the Senator heard about this so quickly. Mr. Swayer apparently telephoned Tulsa as soon as he got to Leopoldville. My information came by radioteletype."

  "Next time tell them to get on the phone," the President snapped.

  "With respect, Mr. President, I think we have to give Colonel Dills the benefit of the doubt and that he considered the telephone and decided it would be better to collect all the facts and use radioteletype."

  The President, not mollified, glared at Felter. "Well, let's have all the facts. "

  "Yes, Sir. Sir, Albertville is a small town on Lake Tanganika, just about in the middle of Africa. Lake Tanganyika forms me international border between the ex-Belgian Congo and Tanzania and Burundi."

  "What are Americans doing there?"

  "Unit Rig is supplying heavy earth-moving equipment, huge trucks, to Union Miniere for use in the mines. The trucks were disassembled for shipment and air-freighted in. They are being reassembled on site. Mr. Swayer is Unit Rig's supervising engineer."

  "So what happened?"

  "My information, Mr. President, is that a Congolese named Nicholas Olenga has taken over the town."

  "Who the hell is he? What does he want?"

  "We don't know much about him, Mr. President. He is a member of the Maniema tribe, in his early thirties. Before independence he was a clerk, which would indicate that he is literate.

  Colonel Dills believes that since he did not receive a position of importance under the Leopoldville government, he now intends to topple that government and take over himself."

  "He was a goddamned clerk? And thinks he can take over the government? Is he nuts? How long will it take your Colonel Mobutu to get over there and throw his ass in jail?"

  "I don't believe that will happen anytime soon, Mr. President," Felter said. "Colonel Dills reports that the ANC, the Armee Nationale Congolaise, 'is planning action to bring the situation under control.' But he reports that he does think that they will be successful in the near future. I concur with his evaluation of the situation."

  "Jesus Christ!"

  "The Red Chinese, Mr. President, have been engaged for some time in a propaganda effort, the gist of which is to convince the Congolese that the United States intends to step in to replace the Belgians as their colonial masters. It has been successful among the Maniema and some other tribes in that area of the Congo. They are now violently anti-American. Olenga has apparently used this as his rallying point."

  "Let me get this straight," the President said. "An ex-clerk with delusions of grandeur has convinced a bunch of jungle bunnies that we're the bad guys and they have taken over some backwater town in the middle of nowhere. Right so far?"

  "Yes, Mr. President."

  "You really think those Unit Rig people were in danger?"

  "Yes, Sir, I believe they were."

  "And the entire Congolese Army can't stop this foolishness?"

  "Not in the foreseeable future, Mr. President."

  "So what happens now? You're not suggesting that he can actually take over the whole Congo? How many men does he have?"

  "My information is that he took over Albertville with a force of approximately three hundred, Sir."

  "Three hundred?" the President parroted incredulously. "And the Army can't take them on-put them behind bars?"

  "Colonel Dills believes, as does Captain Lunsford, and I concur, that as soon as they realize the ANC has not done anything about Olenga, the natives-that is to say the uneducated tribesmen who live in the bush-will rush to join him."

  "What makes this Captain Lunsford an expert?"

  "He has been in the area, Sir. He is there now. He speaks the language. Captain Lunsford reports that Olenga is now wearing a Belgian officer's uniform and calling himself 'colonel,' and his organization 'the People's Army.'"

  "He's there now?"

  "Yes, Sir. He requested permission to remain in the area, and I gave it to him."

  "How come the Unit Rig people were in danger and he's not?"

  "He is in some danger, Sir. But he speaks Swahili and several of the local dialects and believes he can pass himself off as a Congolese."

  The President's eyebrows rose at that. "You mean he's black?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "I'll be damned," the President said. "OK, Felter, worst possible scenario. Let's have it."

  "The tribesmen, Maniema and others, will join Olenga. They will march on the small towns in the area. They may be able to take Bukavu and possibly even Stanleyville. If they are able to take Bukavu, which I consider possible, I believe this will open the very real possibility of substantial assistance from the Chinese communists in Burundi. If they have arms, they can take Stanleyville. If they take Stanleyville, and they haven't been given arms before, I am sure they will get them then."

  "They have not yet been supplied with arms?"

  "Not so far as I know, Sir. One of the reasons I gave Captain Lunsford permission to stay was in the hope that he could find out about that."

  "What about Chinese advisers?" the President asked. "I'd like to get my hands on one of them involved in this."

  "I don't think they will send either advisers or substantial shipments-in other words, attributable shipments-or arms until they see how he's doing. What they call face is involved, Sir. They are not, in my judgment, going to make their involvement known until they are sure of success. They do not wish to lose face."

  "So we just wait to see what happens, huh?"

&n
bsp; "I don't see what other alternatives there are, Mr. President."

  "What about your friend Mobutu's paratroopers? Could they put this lunatic down?"