Guerilla Warfare (2006) (25 page)

"Seguro, mi generalisimo," Busch agreed. "They are obviously withdrawing because their support from the Petroleo Colmo Company--or I should say the CIA is gone. I wonder if they are trying to reach Paraguay. Perhaps they have aid available there."

Castillo nodded his head. "In that case, we must keep them from traveling that far." He swiveled in his chair and looked at the map of the Gran Chaco on the wall behind his desk. "Now, if I were the commander of the bandidos, what would motivate me to travel eastward whether I had support or not?" he mused.

"Ah!" Busch exclaimed. "The high country of the jungles. The Selva Verde Mountains! It would be a perfect place to set up defenses or link up with reinforcements."

"Of course," Castillo agreed. "A perfect place to hole up and hide until further help arrives, no?"

"You are absolutely correct when you say they must not be allowed to reach those mountains, mi generalisimo," Busch said. "The bastardos have been ambushing our patrols almost at will. Now it is their turn to endure strikes from the unknown."

"Tiene razon! " Castillo exclaimed. "You are right! And let's take into consideration that we have two helicopters at our disposal, and they have none. Alert the garrison, coronel, we are going on the offensive. Now we shall mount a full-scale attack on those damned bandidos!"

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1100 HOURS LOCAL

GENERALISIM0 Castillo had been very precise as he dictated his operational orders to Suboficial Ignacio Perez. After writing down the combat directive word for word, the little man turned to his portable typewriter and carbon paper to make enough copies to pass out to the field officers who would lead the various echelons. In order to get out nine clear copies, he'd had to type the document three times. Fuerte Franco, without the power of generators, had no way to run word processors or photocopiers to ease the administrative burdens of the little adjutant and quartermaster.

Two lifts of twenty-four fully equipped men--each with eight on the EC-635 light utility helicopter and sixteen on the SA-330 utility helicopter--were organized for the trip to the battle site. Coronel Jeronimo Busch would be overall commander with Suboficial Punzarron, SargentoMayor Chaubere and Sargento Muller serving as his personal equipo comando. The three stalwarts would stick close to their field commander while he directed the operation to destroy the enemy in this one final effort.

Comandante Javier Toledo would command the first lift with Capitanes Francisco Silber and Roberto Argento as detachment leaders. Comandante Gustavo Cappuzzo was to lead the second lift, having as detachment commanders capitanes Tomas Platas and Pablo Gonzales. The latter was a recently arrived infantry officer from the Bolivian Army.

The basic concept of the OPLAN was that after Busch and the equipo comando were set down in the EC-635, it would return to Fuerte Franco to join the SA-330 to begin the transport of the two main lifts. The first was to be taken to a point on both sides of the river ahead of the bandidos, while the second lift would be landed behind them. At a signal from Busch over the RMAM radio, the battle would commence with an all-out infantry attack supported by machine guns.

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RIO ANCHO

THE SEALS

1245 HOURS LOCAL

THE sound of a single helicopter engine caught the immediate and collective attention of the detachment. Everyone went on the alert, including the men napping in the piraguas. They all sat up expectantly while the Hankers scanned the skies for a sighting of the aircraft.

Joe Miskoski was on the left bank with his SAW, while Bruno Puglisi, who had been on break in the piragua, climbed up on the right bank to add his own SAW to the firepower on that side.

Brannigan spoke calmly into his LASH. "Command Element, get into the piraguas and be ready to lend a hand where and when necessary. Let's go, people! The shit's about to hit the fan!"

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THE LOZANO GRASSLANDS

THE EQUIPO COMMANDO

THE EC-635 came in slow about two meters off the deck with Coronel Busch and his comandos standing in the doors. As soon as Busch spoke "Vamanos! " into his LASH, all four leaped to the thick grass, hitting the ground at a run. They continued going until the chopper pulled up and away to return to Fuerte Franco.

Busch took the lead, heading toward the river with his picked men. They were stripped down lean and mean for light travel and quick attacks. They carried only weapons, ammunition, grenades, knives and canteens. The equipo kept a close watch in all directions as they hurried across the savannah. The only sounds from their rapid trek were the swishing noise made by the grass brushing against their uniform trousers. None of the superbly conditioned men breathed hard as they continued toward the bandidos, all eager to lock horns in this final corrida.

After a half hour of hard pushing, Busch suddenly signaled for them to hit the ground. All four dove into the grass. "Enemy sighted!" the coronel said softly. "Ciento metres adelante--a hundred meters ahead." He gave each man a chance to raise his head just enough to see the bandidos. "We will do nothing now but trail after them for the time being. When the two lifts arrive, the fight starts."

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THE SEALS

1320 H0URS LOCAL

FOUR more helicopter flights had been heard on both sides of the river with only quick glances of the aircraft as they settled to the ground out of sight, then almost immediately took off again.

"Now hear this!" Wild Bill Brannigan said. "We're approximately thirty-plus hours away from where we climb out of this fucking river and start humping our asses up into the mountains. If we don't make it that far, this whole operation is shot down. And us with it."

"Sir," Senior Chief Buford Dawkins said, "we've had no sightings of the enemy other than a quick look at them choppers. I'm certain there's only two of 'em, but they both came in twice."

Chief Matt Gunnarson agreed. "And you can bet your asses they was bringing troops in with 'em."

"You're right about that," Brannigan said. "We're going to have to keep moving and fighting at the same time. If they pin us down even once, we're gone gooses. There's no way in hell we can start up again. It would just be a matter of slugging it out until all the ammo is expended."

Everyone listened over their LASH sets, knowing that a real possibility of sustaining high casualties existed in this predicament. The main objective now was to get to those distant Selva Verde Mountains.

"I'm going to have to pull three guys off the line to pole the piraguas," Brannigan continued. "I want Frank Gomez and Garth Redhawk to get up on the left bank with the First Assault Section. Chad Murchison and Guy Deveraux will go with the Second. James Bradley will stay with me in the piraguas to take care of the wounded." Brannigan waited until the detachment was organized. "That's it! Send me the guys for poling now. We'll trade 'em off when it seems necessary. Let's go, people."

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THE EQUIPO COMMANDO

CORONEL Busch and his men were formed in a skirmish line as they crawled through grass on their hands and knees, keeping as low as possible. Now and then they could hear one of the bandidos say something to a companion, and Busch estimated they were perhaps less than twenty meters away.

It was Sargento Muller who first sighted the enemy at close range. He quickly advised the others over the LASH. "They are no more than fifteen meters away."

"Escuchan!" Busch said. "On my command we will all fire a couple of six-round bursts in their direction. Then drop flat on your bellies and crawl away in the opposite direction." He raised his head and could see what appeared to be at least a half dozen of the enemy. "Tiren!"

The sudden eruptions of fire thundered twice, then the comandos went flat, turning to snake away into the grass.

* * *

CONNIE Concord jerked violently as two slugs slammed into his left arm, and he staggered sideways to tumble off the grassy bank into the water. James Bradley, in the second piragua, immediately dove in after him. He quickly found the wounded man in the muddy river and pulled him to the surface. Brannigan reached over the side of the boat and grabbed Connie under the arms, bodily hauling him aboard. James pulled himself from the river and wasted no time in examining the victim, who had slid into unconsciousness.

"He's hit bad, sir," James said. "The forearm is fractured, and he's got two massive soft tissue injuries."

"Christ!" Brannigan said. "They must've been really close."

"Yes, sir," Bradley said, digging into his medical kit. "Normally this could be handled easily, but I can't give him proper treatment for shock. That could kill him even if the wounds aren't necessarily fatal."

Now heavy firing broke out on the right side of the river, churning up clumps of grassy dirt and sending ricochets zinging off into the air.

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THE BATTLE

CORONEL Busch's familiar voice sounded over Comandante Javier Toledo's RMAM radio. "Toledo, continue to fire, but move in closer! This is an attack not an exercise on the firing range! And use those machine guns for support!"

Toledo wasted no time in advancing his twenty-four men toward the enemy. The leading skirmish line of eight under the command Capitan Francisco Silber made first contact. Their fusillades swept back and forth into the enemy on the riverbank. Within sixty seconds the second rank under Capita Roberto Argento joined them. Now sixteen assault weapons, skillfully employed and well-aimed, poured swarms of bullets at the bandidos. When the CETME Amalfi machine guns joined the assault, their accurate patterns of fire overlapped as timed volleys of the 5.56-millimeter slugs supported the riflemen ahead.

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THE SEALs slid over the banks of the Rio Ancho to avoid the flying steel whipping around them. They returned fire in the obvious direction of the attack; unaimed but hitting close to the enemy. Joe Miskoski pumped out rounds from his SAW, trying to be as effective as possible as he swept the barrel up and down the line. Although they were unsure of the effects of their efforts, and bullets continued to crack and thud heavily around them, the SEALs suffered no further casualties. Over on the other side of the river, the First Assault Team was not taking fire after the initial attack that hit Connie.

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"CAPPUZZO!" came Busch's angry voice over the RMAM. "Where the hell are you?"

"I am taking my command toward the sound of the fighting," Co to Gustavo Cappuzzo radioed back. "But the battle seems to be moving eastward."

"Correcto! " Busch replied. "Forget about moving in to make contact until you're past the gunfire. Then make an abrupt move toward the river in skirmish lines. Keep going until you find the enemy. And don't forget your machine gun support!" He slipped the handset back onto his pistol belt, turning to Punzarron, Chaubere and Muller. "We are in a good position on the west of the enemy. We're going to move forward until we can fire at their rear guard. Punzarron, you and Chaubere take the south side of the river while Muller and I take the north."

The Equipo Comando split up, then began moving toward the bandidos as soon as Punzarron and Chaubere had swum across to the other side.

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THE SEALs continued the trek to the east, answering the salvos fired at them with bursts of their own. Neither side was able to deliver accurate fusillades, but the unaimed fire kept both adversaries working in cautionary modes. Any rash attacks by anyone could be handily dealt with by the other side.

The piraguas were now tied together while Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan and Hospital Corpsman James Bradley both performed the poling chores in the front boat. They had piled a good amount of ammunition between them, and when some SEAL on the bank needed another bandoleer, it was a simple thing to reach down and toss him one. At this time they had plenty of the 5.56-millimeter bullets for both the CAR-15s and the SAWs.

Connie Concord was numbed by morphine as he lay in the second piragua. James had arranged him in a comfortable position on his back with blankets over him and his feet elevated. This was all he could do in an attempt to keep Connie from going into shock. The hospital corpsman would have preferred to use an IV drip with epinephrine solution, but the present situation of kill or be killed did not offer the luxury of sophisticated medical treatments.

Brannigan had issued orders to knock off unnecessary chatter over the LASH systems. He had to use the devices to issue battle orders since he could not use the AN/PRC126 handset. Both his hands were busy with the pole as he and James kept the piraguas moving as best they could. However, the Skipper could easily keep his eyes on the SEALs on both sides of the river as they continued to move in the eastward direction under fire. He wanted to keep them traveling the same distance and speed, and he made adjustments with terse comments. "Godamn it! Second Section slow down and First Section step it up."

The incoming fire, while still steady, was no longer so heavy. This was an ominous indication that the Falangists had figured out the situation and were concentrating on keeping pace with the SEALs as much as they were of blasting bullets in their direction.

AN hour had passed while Busch and his comandos trailed after the SEALs, and the equipo had stepped up the pace since they were not receiving fire. They listened carefully as they moved along both sides of the river, noting that the exchange of salvos was getting steadily louder.

Chaubere was the first one to catch sight of the bandidos. "Voila! I can see the enemy, mon colonel," he said, slipping into French. "There is a man on each side of the river."