Guerilla Warfare (2006) (7 page)

Platas turned at the commotion and saw Punzarron pull the man to his feet, slapping his face hard. After the punch-up, the out-of-shape Argentine was forced to hold the weapon over his head and double-time around the column. Stark fear of the Portuguese ex-legionnaire gave him the strength to perform the punishment. Platas, who was from a crack Bolivian parachute battalion, appreciated the results of the punishment, but he disliked seeing a senior noncommissioned officer treated like a raw recruit.

After three circuits of the patrol, the gunner was allowed to stagger back into ranks to continue the trek.

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THE VILLAGE OF NOVIDA

1330 HOURS LOCAL

CAPITAN Platas and his patrol entered the village to find Joao Cabecinho waiting to greet them. Some of the vaqueiros out with the communal cattle herd had spotted the Falangists and sent a boy riding in to tell the headman about the visitors moving across the savannah toward the community.

Suboficial Punzarron went up with Platas to speak to Cabecinho while the men in the patrol sank to the ground to rest. Several women, noting the men's discomfort, brought them some rum to refresh themselves. As the exhausted men shared the liquor, Cabecinho enthusiastically shook hands with the senior patrol members, speaking through Punzarron's translation since Platas spoke no Portuguese.

"We are surprised to see you so soon," Cabecinho said. "Your other friends were here only a couple of days before."

Platas was puzzled. "What other friends?"

"They were soldiers like you," Cabecinho explained, "but their uniforms were different. I also noticed they had rifles that were not exactly like the ones you carry were sujeitos agraveles--nice guys. One of them spoke Portuguese in a strange way. Not like us and not like Suboficial Punzarrao. I thought it a little strange that none of them spoke Spanish."

"What did the men look like?" Platas asked. He was alarmed by the lack of Spanish speakers in the group and wanted to know more. "What were their -nationalities? What race?"

"One of them looked like an Indio from American western cinema," Cabecinho replied. "And one was a negm. All the others were europeus. A couple were very light-skinned:'

Punzarron looked at Platas and shrugged. "I am confused, mi capitan. The men of whom he speaks are obviously not Bolivian or even Chilean or Argentine if they did not speak Spanish?'

"I think an unexpected situation has arisen here," Platas said. "Tell Senor Cabecinho to keep a lookout for these strangers and any others that may show up. Tell him to notice how many of them there are, and to do his best to find out their nationality. Also instruct him to say nothing of us Falangistas. Impress upon him that there is a possibility of treachery in this situation."

Punzarron turned to the village headman and passed on the message in Portuguese. Cabecinho asked, "Is there some sort of problem?"

"We don't know," Punzarron replied. "Just be careful." "I shall do as requested," the village headman promised. "Com todo o gusto."

Platas ordered the suboficial to get the patrol back on their feet. "We're going straight back to headquarters," he said. "We must report this situation to Comandante Toledo immediately."

Punzarron barked the necessary orders, and the men struggled to their feet. The Portuguese noted the machine gunner would slow down the patrol, and he ordered one of the other members of the crew to take the heavy weapon from him. "You may now take turns with it." Sometimes discipline must come in second to expediency. To even things out, he would give the machine gun crew extra PT that evening.

Cabecinho waved as the Falangists left the village.

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SEAL BASE CAMP

THE detachment worked rapidly to prepare the bivouac to be temporarily abandoned during a long patrol out into the OA. Caches were closed while a minute inspection of the camp was made. All signs of the area having been occupied had to be obliterated, even though the SEALs eventually planned to return to the site. The slightest bit of carelessness could result in passing strangers inadvertently discovering something as small as a burnt match, a piece of an MRE packet or even a slight imprint of a boot in the soft soil. These seemingly insignificant objects would be like a neon light to a clever, vigilant enemy.

When the work was done, Brannigan led them a couple of hundred meters away, then sat everyone down for an oral OPORD of the coming operation. The men instinctively maintained team and section integrity as they settled into a semicircle to listen to the skipper's discourse.

"All right, my friends," Brannigan began, "here's the word. We're going to board the three rigid raider boats with the piraguas tied to the 'stern. We'll head down the Rio Ancho to that creek. By the way, we're now referring it to as Big Creek."

"Not a particularly colorful appellation, but aptly descriptive just the same," Chad Murchison remarked.

"Thank you, Petty Officer Murchison," Brannigan said. "We're so pleased you approve."

"Sorry, sir!" Chad uttered with a red face as the other SEALs grinned.

"To continue," Brannigan went on. "When we get to Big Creek, we'll hold up there. All boats will be camouflaged and hidden, then the First Assault Section plus the Odd Couple will head cross-country to that village of Novida. The Second Assault Section will follow at a discreet distance with the Command Element right behind them. As soon as the First Section reaches the objective, they will halt and inform me. Meanwhile, our intrepid scouts will re-con the area to see if any bad guys are in the vicinity:'

Bruno Puglisi gave his SAW an affectionate pat on the receiver. "And if there are any around, can we kill 'em, sir?"

"From that point on we'll play it by ear, Puglisi," Brannigan said. "I'm sure you'll find some activity that will amuse you before it's all said and done on this operation." He gestured to Lieutenant (J. G.) Jim Cruiser and Senior Chief Buford Dawkins. "Let's move 'em out!"

The First Assault Section led the way to the boats on the river.

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HEADQUARTERS, BANDERA 1

1800 HOURS

CAPITAN Tomas Platas left the patrol hurriedly after their return to the garrison and reported to headquarters. He sought out Generalisimo Jose Maria de Castillo y Plato, teniente-Coronel Jeronimo Busch and Comandante Javier Toledo, to inform them of the strangers who had mysteriously appeared in the theater of war.

Meanwhile Suboficial Adolfo Punzarron kept the other members of the patrol back for a special inspection. The eight men were lined up in a single rank with their rifles slung. Each held his canteen in his right hand. Punzarron went to the first man and pointed to the water carrier, commanding, "Derramelo!"

The man turned the canteen upside down. A few drops spilled out. Punzarron moved to the next rifleman, giving the same order. Once more some drops of water dribbled from the container. However, when the third man obeyed the command, not a bit of water emerged. The suboficial punched him hard in the face, causing him to stumble back and fall to the ground.

Punzarron glared at the men. "I am trying to teach you water discipline! In the Spanish Foreign Legion in the Moroccan desert we learned the value of conserving our water. And you will learn it here, even if we are in the midst of a savannah that is crisscrossed with streams and creeks. Many of you have spent too many years in the luxury of garrison duty with plenty of water and beer available. You are on active field operations now, where only an idiota would guzzle down every drop in his canteen as if there is no tomorrow."

He went to the next two men, satisfied when they, too, had something left in their canteens. However, the next three NCOs had consumed all the water they had. They were treated to a hard clout each for their lack of self-control.

Meanwhile, as Punzarron administered his brand of discipline to the men of the patrol, Toledo, Castillo and Busch listened with great interest as Platas explained what had transpired in Novida. Castillo was worried. "Undoubtedly outsiders and I mean foreigners--have moved into the Gran Chaco. The most disturbing element of the situation is that they could well be an international group brought in from the UN. Right now the last thing we need is a peacekeeping force traipsing around the future location of the DFF."

Busch snorted a laugh as he lit a cigar. "The UN, mi generalisimo? What is there to worry about from incompetent, badly led Third World soldiers trying to interfere with our plans?"

Toledo wasn't quite so optimistic. "Perhaps it isn't the United Nations, Coronel Busch. We cannot safely assume that is the case. If we are wrong, we will pay a terrible price for our arrogant complacency."

"Good thinking, Comandante," Castillo said. "I want you to send two of your combat sections out for a sweeping reconnaissance of the Grasslands in the vicinity of Novida."

"Inmediatamente, mi generalisimo! " Toledo said. "I shall dispatch Silber and Argento within the hour."

"Excellent," Castillo said. "And I think it is the time to bring in reinforcements:' He looked at Busch. "How many men can we send for, Coronel?"

"Bandera 2 has approximately fifty men," Busch replied. "And it will only be a matter of weeks before we can transfer in enough personnel from Argentina and Chile to activate Bandera 3:'

"Pronto!" Castillo said. "Do it!"

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THE LOZANO GRASSLANDS

3 DECEMBER

0930 HOURS LOCAL

THE savannah offered little in the way of cover. Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz knew they could easily be spotted by anyone within a short distance, and the duo moved cautiously and alertly, wanting to make sure they would see any strangers before they saw them. They had split off from the First Assault Section to investigate what lay ahead of them after the detachment left the boats and moved onto the grasslands. This was the Odd Couple's element, and the pair was used to operating alone in enemy territory.

The entire area was cut by little streams, and they could easily jump across most. Fortunately, the wider ones were shallow enough to be effortlessly waded. The two worked well together, able to conduct an excellent recon without one spoken word. Quick hand signals or gestures were all that was necessary for the team to exchange information on what was seen and heard as they moved along. If they found themselves in a situation that required them to speak, all they had to do was whisper into their LASH headsets that amplified the sound in the earphones to make it seem a normal tone of voice to the receiving party.

It was Dave who first came across the trail that had been smashed down in the grass. He called Mike up to him, and they dropped to their knees to study the spoor. "It looks like maybe a dozen men, don't you think?" Mike whispered.

Dave nodded. "Right on. I'd say they're moving from southwest to northeast."

"Wait a minute," Mike said. "They've come along here in both directions." He leaned closer to the ground to study the tracks. "Right! They came in from the northeast, and went back in the exact opposite direction."

"Bad habit:' Dave said. "You should never follow the same path twice in enemy territory."

"What if they don't consider this enemy territory, ol' buddy? This is prob'ly their stomping grounds."

"Good point," Dave said. "From where we are now, I say they came from their base camp, and went down to that village, then back to their own place again. I think we ought to move slightly to the north and then turn east."

"You're right," Mike said. "That way we can take a roundabout way to whatever destination those guys were headed for."

The add Couple put the plan into action, moving through the grass on the chosen azimuth. Both were glad it was too early for the mosquitoes to come out. It was bad enough trying to conduct an efficient recon without having the little bastards buzzing around. The insect repellent kept them off, but they were still a nuisance. A half hour passed, then Dave whispered into his LASH.

"Hold it!"

Mike looked up and saw what had alarmed him. A column of twelve men were coming their way. The strangers seemed to be on the alert as if expecting trouble for someone. The Odd Couple decided it was the latter; and they moved back into some deeper grass to observe.

Mike and Dave used their binoculars for a closer look. The strangers were obviously military men garbed in camouflage uniforms, carrying weapons, and wearing web gear. "Hey," Dave whispered, "get a load of the insignia sewn on their arms."

Mike noted the red and black flash of the Falangists on the sleeves. "They're the bad guys all right."

"Well, why don't we follow 'em and see where they're going?" Dave suggested.

"May I lead?"

"Be my guest."

As they followed the patrol, they noted the professionalism of its members. Their physical conditioning seemed mixed, but they were obviously well-disciplined. As expected, they went straight to Novida.

The Odd Couple found a small knoll on the northwest side of the small community that offered good observation. The patrol was given warm greetings by the civilians, and the troops seemed familiar with the village. They went to the well where some women were drawing water, and carried on what seemed to be polite conversation with the females.

"Mmm," Mike mused. "They seem to have been told to be respectful to the local ladies. That means the value of good conduct with the indigenous personnel has been emphasized to them."