Star Blue Soldier

by Donahue B Silvis

  “Sounds like darn good training,” observed Congressman Bernard.

  “It is. I’ve attended some of their classes,” Mittlebonn told them. “The training focuses on survival and evasion. And also, they teach skills like woodcraft and wilderness survival in all types of climates. The course includes emergency first aid, land navigation, camouflage techniques, communication protocols, and how to make improvised tools for survival.

  Kip nodded. “I think it would be a perfect fit for him.”

  “From what you’ve told us, Kip,” General Dugan went on, “it appears he already has most of the qualifications. If he’ll do it, there’s a school at Camp Mackall, in North Carolina; it has a regular three-week course or a five-week course to qualify as an instructor. If your man took the five-week course, after he finished, I could set him up as an Army civilian specialist. He’d be part of my civilian training team, and wear the SERE patch and instructor’s ribbon. He would be qualified to train other military personnel or civilians. No one would question him, and he’d have free rein wherever he went.”

  “I believe he’d like to do it, and I think it’s a great cover for him,” said Kip.

  The others nodded their approval.

  Congressman Bernard leaned forward. “I have questions. If it’s non-funded, and he’ll not be in the military, how do we pay him and cover his expenses? How do we fund this program? Has anyone given thought to the expense of checking on the CIA?”

  “For a while now, we’ve been contemplating some type of action,” Admiral Hildegard answered. “About two weeks ago, I discussed the possibility of funding an investigation of this nature with one of America’s wealthiest men, who shares our interest. He’s a Democrat from one of America’s more prestigious families. He and his family made their fortune from European wine imports, real estate, and other ventures. He has a disdain for the policies of our present Republican president, and a solid dislike for the CIA and their methods.”

  Kip and Congressman Bernard exchanged a smile, as they knew who the admiral was talking about, the outspoken Whelan Dunne.

  “If it’s who I think it is, he’d be a pretty good source of funding, admiral,” Congressman Bernard conceded.

  “Yes, Whelan Dunne is,” agreed the beaming, admiral.

  “Kip, will your man work with me, and go to the SERE school?” asked General Dugan.

  “I have told him about our meeting. He’s interested in getting back into military action. I’ll talk to him about this new development. I have a strong feeling he will be quite interested, sir.”

  “This meeting has taken an unexpected turn, but sounds very promising,” said Admiral Hildegard. “How about a show of hands on whether we give this proposal a go or not?”

  The five men looked at one another, and all raised their right hand.

  “Excellent,” said the admiral, “then we’ll proceed. Kip, if your man is in, then I suggest you set up a meeting with General Dugan. Is that alright with you, David?”

  General Dugan nodded. “That would be perfect. I look forward to meeting him, and setting everything in motion.”

  “Gentlemen, it looks as if we’re finally taking the first step to finding out what the hell the CIA is up to,” said General Mittlebonn with an air of satisfaction.

  Kip grinned. “Okay, now that we’ve agreed, how about we go for a relaxing swim, and enjoy some of Zack’s liquor? He’s told me his staff is preparing a special dinner for you tonight; featuring the biggest T-bone steaks, you’ll ever set your teeth into.”

  The four men applauded.

  Late that afternoon, a long table was set up alongside the pool. Zack, Kip and the other four men enjoyed themselves drinking and engaging in casual conversation. Two of Zack’s trainers were busy grilling thick T-bone steaks. One of them was the muscular, red-haired Killian.

  The following morning, after a late breakfast, the four men left. Kip and Killian went out to the stable, where Kip saddled Blaze and Killian readied another horse. While out riding, Kip told Killian about the meeting and what they had discussed. After hearing Kip’s proposal, Killian stopped his horse and dismounted.

  He stretched and looked up at Kip. “It sounds good. It kind of covers all the bases we’ve talked about. In a way, I’m getting back into the military, but still somewhat concealing my identity.”

  “That part’s true, Killian. But you do realize how dangerous this undercover operation could be? The CIA is well organized. They would react quickly, and in deadly fashion, if they learned of someone informing on their illicit covert and clandestine operations.”

  “I’m aware of the danger, and I’ll be out on my own. However, I’m looking forward to it. I want to do this, Kip. Will you set it up?”

  “I can call General Dugan in the morning.”

  “Fine, do it.” He started to get back on his horse. “When you introduce me to the general, call me Killian Muldoon.”

  “Why don’t you want to use your real name?”

  “Muldoon will give me more of a background, and creditability as a soldier. You can tell the general my great-great grandfather was a sergeant decorated in the Civil War. I’m sure he’ll find the name in the Army records.”

  Kip smiled. “Makes sense to me, Killian Muldoon.”

  Killian mounted his horse, and they rode back to the ranch.

  CHAPTER 10

  Whelan Dunne was born in the county of Laois, in the midlands of Ireland. His parents, Donald and Margaret Dunne, along with Donald’s younger brother Danny, decided to leave Ireland, and cross the ocean to America in 1895. At the time, things were bad in Ireland, and there was a belief great opportunities lay in the land across the Atlantic Ocean.

  Donald Dunne was a big-boned Irishman with a crop of bushy, dark brown hair. He stood six-feet-two-inches, and weighed a strong two hundred and twenty-five pounds. His younger brother Danny fell far short of those marks. Danny was five-foot-nine with black, curly hair, and tipped the scales, soaking wet, at one hundred and fifty pounds. He had a wiry build and nature to match.

  Little Whelan Dunne took after his dad. At six years old he was tall for his age and solidly built. His mother Margaret was a beauty. She was of medium height with shiny light red hair, skin the color of cream, and saucer-shaped violet blue eyes. She was quite a religious woman, and many wondered what she saw in Donald Dunne as he and his family was a hard-drinking, fun-loving, rather wild, bunch.

  On the boat to America, Donald made the acquaintance of an energetic Italian by the name of Sal Macaluso. Sal told Donald about his friends and family who had gone to America a few years earlier. They had brought healthy grapevines roots with them, and upon arrival in New York, they were told about good land in Northern California. They had continued their journey, settling in California where they planted their grapevines. Throughout the trip, Sal boasted about how his family members now had an excellent vineyard and was making lots of money.

  After the Macaluso and Dunne families had gotten off the boat, and gone through the Ellis Island immigration station, they didn’t stay in New York City. As soon as possible, they were on a train to Chicago, after which they boarded the Atchison, Topeka and Santé Fe Railroad train to California. It was a long and costly trip, and it exhausted most of Donald’s money. When they arrived at Sal’s family vineyard, things were not as wonderful as Sal had pictured. The vineyard was small and barely producing enough wine for the few families in the area. However, the Dunnes and Macalusos were ambitious and determined. They cleared new land and planted more grapevines. In a few years, they were producing a large quantity of fine wine.

  In time, Donald and Danny started a merchandising, distribution and shipping company, and left the tending of the vineyards, the fermentation, and bottling of the wine to Sal and his family. At first, they shipped wine throughout California and the western territory. But, within five years they were shipping their wines as far as New York. The two families were becoming wealthy. The Italians jokingly referred to Whelan�
��s father as the “Don of Wine.”

  By the time Whelan was sixteen he knew all aspects of the wine business. He often took trips back east with his father and his uncle, Danny. On one trip to New York, they took him to a large warehouse. It was there he learned how they were now involved in importing wines from France, Italy, and Spain. The warehouse was the main redistribution center for the various wines. The Dunnes now had big-time connections in Europe, and more recently, Canada.

  Shortly after Whelan graduated from high school, his father took him to Annapolis. He wanted his son to have the best education, and to serve his country in the military. At first, Whelan resisted, but he soon found he liked the discipline and the formality of the military. His roommate was a boy from a long line of naval officers. He and George Hildegard hit it off from the first time they met. After graduation from the academy, Whelan and George both served four years aboard various naval vessels. However, Whelan didn’t see the Navy as his vocation, and when his tour of duty was over, he joined his dad and his uncle in the wine business. His friend George Hildegard continued serving in the Navy, and he distinguished himself during World War II.

  Six months after going back to work in the wine business, Whelan married a girl he’d met while at Annapolis. She was from one of Philadelphia’s wealthy Irish families. A year and a half later, his son Douglas was born. Two years later, Whelan’s wife Kelly presented him with his daughter, little red-haired Maggie. The Dunnes’ wine business was growing at a fast pace, both in California and in New York. The roaring twenties were about to begin, and most of the large cities were enjoying sustained economic prosperity. After World War I politics had returned to normal in the wake of emotional patriotism. Social, artistic and cultural life blossomed. The economy boomed. The use of telephones, automobiles, motion pictures and electricity saw tremendous growth, accelerated by consumer demand fed by heightened aspirations, and changes in culture and lifestyle.

  The only fly in the ointment emerged in January 1919, when Congress ratified the Eighteenth Amendment, which prohibited the manufacture, sale, and transportation of intoxicating liquors. Then, at the end of 1919, Congress passed the “Volstead Act” to enforce the law. The authorities in most large cities, however, weren’t interested in enforcing the law. Large quantities of alcoholic drink were still available, much of it being bootlegged in. The Jazz Age began; new restaurants, cocktail lounges, and private nightclubs were springing up everywhere, opening a vast market for the hard liquor and wine distributors.

  Donald Dunne still had a steady supply of wine coming from his partner Sal Macaluso in California. However, his imports from Europe were somewhat curtailed. He and Danny gave thought of bootlegging through Canada but felt Prohibition wouldn’t last too long. Things were good and on the upswing. However, they were proven wrong; Prohibition didn’t end as soon as expected. Donald and Danny, now with Whelan working with them, decided to expand their importing business. They had overcome setbacks before, and they were about to do it again. With their connections in Canada and France, they decided to smuggle shipments of wine and liquor into Canada, and overland by truck to New York City.

  The three men went to Montreal to arrange for shipments from France and Italy and to buy a dockside warehouse. While in Montreal they discovered the city was prospering. It was because of the prohibition of the sale of alcohol in the United States. Americans by the hundreds were crossing the border to imbibe, and have a good time. New bars, nightclubs, and restaurants were opening in the Canadian city at a fast pace.

  It was decided, Whelan would stay in Montreal to run their business, which included receiving the shipments of wine and liquor from Europe, managing the warehouse, and handling sales to their new customers in the growing Canadian city. Danny was now in charge of trucking the imported cases of wine and liquor to New York City. Donald would continue to manage the business in New York and work with Sal Macaluso in California.

  For the first year, everything went smoothly. Money’s made on all fronts. The trucking of the wine and liquor ran like clockwork. Only rarely did he need to accompany the trucks on their weekly run from Montreal to New York City. Then, one night, when Danny decided to make a run with his two drivers, they encountered the police. Just south of Albany, New York, they saw police cars pulling in behind their trucks, and turning on their overheads. At first, they panicked, and the two truck drivers hit the gas pedal to try and get away. As they sped down the road, the police cars raced up close and began firing. One of the bullets hit the driver of the truck, in which Danny was riding shotgun. The driver fell sideways, and the truck started to swerve. Danny pushed the driver aside and grabbed the wheel. He was able to straighten the truck and pull it off the highway. The second truck stopped behind him. The police cars pulled in front of the two trucks, and the officers surrounded them. Danny checked on his driver, who had only sustained a shoulder wound, then climbed down out of the truck. A flashlight put close to his face.

  An older officer, with brass on his shoulders asked, “You in charge?”

  “I am,” answered Danny.

  “Are you Danny Dunne?”

  Danny was surprised the police officer knew his name. “Yes,” he answered.

  “Let’s you and me take a little walk,” suggested the officer.

  Danny looked at the policeman, who wasn’t carrying a weapon.

  “Come on, Danny. I need to talk to you alone,” said the officer, as he started to walk away from the trucks.

  Danny followed him.

  “I’m Captain Callaghan, and it’s been brought to our attention that you Dunne fellas have been trucking your wine and liquor through our fine state, and not paying your dues.”

  “What dues?”

  “Come on now, you boys know what you’re doing is illegal. However, we know times are bad, and the people need their refreshments,” said the slightly overweight captain, chuckling.

  “So that’s what this is about, you want to be paid?” asked Danny.

  The captain nodded. “That’s the program. Your competition has been contributing to the police fund for quite some time. We both think it’s time for you Dunnes to contribute.”

  “We pay you and move on?” asked Danny.

  The captain grinned. “You don’t need to pay tonight. You probably don’t have enough cash with you. One of our officers will come by your place in the city, and make the arrangements.”

  Danny looked at him. “What about my driver? He was hit in the shoulder.”

  The captain glanced at the truck and pointed. “My men are seeing to his wound now.”

  Danny and Captain Callaghan walked back toward the trucks. The captain extended his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Danny. Please give my regards to your brother Donald and your nephew Whelan.”

  Danny watched as the captain, and his men returned to their police cars and disappeared into the night. It was evident to Donald and Danny that the Mafia, who were primarily bootlegging hard liquor, had pointed out their activities to the police. A few days later, they made arrangements to pay their dues.

  It was around the beginning of September 1929, when stock prices began to fall. Then, on October, 29 1929, the stock market crashed. It had a devastating effect on everyone; personal income, profits, and prices dropped. The Great Depression began to spread worldwide. Tax revenue hit an all-time low, and Congress debated what they should do about it. Their decision to pass the United States’ Smoot–Hawley Tariff bill in June 1930 intensified the depression further still by placing a record high tax on imported goods. Unemployment rose to twenty-five percent. International trade plunged to below fifty per cent, due largely to the United States’ new tariff.

  When Congress passed the tariff, it was originally intended to help protect domestic farmers against agricultural imports. The passage of the bill, however, only caused more suffering. It also provoked retaliatory measures by foreign trading partners, as other countries felt U.S. policies were designed to improve their lot, at the
ir expense. This tariff and other policies contributed to a drastic decline in international trade.

  The import business of the Dunnes took a devastating hit. When the economy fell, their wine and liquor sales came almost to a halt. With the high tax on imported goods, even if Prohibition ended, they would still have to continue bootlegging. Canada was one of the countries, which were most miffed about the United States’ new tariff. They forged even closer economic ties with Great Britain and France, and in return imposed their tariff on U.S. goods.

  To increase their profits, Donald made a trip to Ireland. Shortly after that, the Dunnes began importing Irish and Scotch whiskeys into Canada.

  In December of 1933, based on the belief that repealing Prohibition would generate enormous sums of much-needed tax revenue, and weaken the base of organized crime, Congress passed the Twenty-first Amendment. Under its terms, states were allowed to set their laws for the control of alcohol. Once again, the Dunnes business went back into full swing. However, because of the tariff law, which was still in effect, their bootlegging from Canada, continued. Later on, during the 1930s, tariffs were lowered, and the Dunnes relied less and less upon their illegal imports into Canada.

  Over the next few years, their business continued to flourish, except during World War II when they became more involved in the politics, and the needs facing the nation. After the war, they began investing their cash in land, mainly in southern California and in Florida, where they acquired an estate on Biscayne Bay, in Miami.

  In July 1950, tragedy struck the Dunnes. Whelan’s parents and his Uncle Danny were killed in an airplane crash. They were on their way to California to spend two weeks with their old friend and partner, Sal Macaluso. Whelan was devastated, but he had little time to mourn, as the fortune the family had accumulated, and the business empire they had built, was now his to manage. His son Douglas, who had recently graduated from the Harvard Law School, was brought into the company to assist him. His daughter Maggie was also in the Harvard Law School, but wouldn’t graduate for two years. During her summer vacations, she had worked as a page in the House of Representatives in Washington, D.C., and she had informed her father that she would not be working for him. After graduation she planned on being a legislative aide; her ultimate goal was to be a congresswoman. Her father agreed wholeheartedly with her decision.