Guerilla Warfare (2006) (22 page)

Another man was called on. "Mackenzie of the Ontario People's Advocate. An eyewitness has been interviewed in the South American press. He said his wife and children were killed by the Green Berets. What is the United States government's reply to the man's charges?"

"No one from the U. S. government has had an opportunity to converse with the gentleman," Peckham said. "In fact, he has evidently disappeared from view. His veracity has not been properly challenged."

"Thompson of the San Francisco Activist Informer," a young woman said. "All the angry people in South America cannot be wrong. When the particular Green Berets who committed this atrocity are finally discovered, will the president make an apology to the world?"

"No American Special Forces troops were involved in those killings," Peckham said grimly. "We have issued that statement before, and at this point the United States government's denial of any participation or connection is final. That's it."

Dirk Wallenger of Global News Broadcasting stood up without bothering to identify himself, since both he and Peckham were old adversaries. "Was the CIA involved?"

"No," Peckham said, controlling his anger. "Did you not understand my opening statement nor the one I just this minute made?"

"I interviewed that only survivor of the murders when I was in Santiago, Chile, about a week ago," Wallenger said. "He was very convincing. The gentleman said that the killers wore U. S. Army uniforms and green berets. He also stated that they spoke English. How do you respond to those words from one of the victims?"

"A lot of people in the world speak English, Dirk," Peckham replied. "And anybody with the money can purchase a military-style green beret. Many wannabes order them out of catalogs along with camouflage uniforms and other military paraphernalia for weekends of reenactments or playing at war. I might add that the Royal Marines of Great Britain wear green berets. I believe they speak a bit of English, though I seriously doubt if the prime minister has dispatched any of them to South America to randomly travel around massacring entire villages of people. And the French Foreign Legion wears green berets too. And I'm sure there are many English-speaking legionnaires in their ranks. And one of their regiments is stationed in French Guiana in South America. But again, I have grave doubts they have been roaming the continent looking for little towns to wipe off the map."

"In that case will the president be dispatching any of the nation's armed forces to track down and capture the culprits?" Wallenger asked.

"There are no such plans now," Peckham said, "nor has Bolivia requested assistance in such an operation. And our present situation in the Middle East precludes responding to such an appeal."

Wallenger was stubborn. "But doesn't the president think this is important enough to make an effort to prove the accusations by this survivor false or at least mistaken?"

"The President of the United States is not going to dignify those ridiculous charges by addressing them in any official manner or form." He glanced around the room. "As I stated when I walked in here, no Americans were responsible for the incident."

"Anti-American demonstrations swept across South America," Wallenger said. "Our embassies have been stoned, the flag defiled, and effigies wearing green berets burned in the streets of the continent's major cities. Surely this is serious enough to--"

"Thank you for coming, ladies and gentleman, this is the end of the press conference," Peckham said.

He left the podium and exited the room, hurrying down the hall to where Arlene Entienne had been listening over the intercom to the session. "You did fine, Owen. To the point. Polite but firm. And you responded fully to each question."

"You know something, Arlene," Peckham said. "I just thought of an oxymoron: journalistic standards."

.

FUERTE FRANCO

5 JANUARY

1000 HOURS LOCAL

ALL the field fortifications and bunkers were completed. The convicts piled the final sandbags around the mortar position in the center of the garrison near the headquarters complex. They stood back as the crews of the three Spanish Model L 60-millimeter mortars brought them in and set the weapons up.

The laborers had an easy time of it as they went around making final minor fixes and alterations. These were mostly done at the behest of various junior and warrant officers as they inspected the places where their units would be fighting. By midmorning the Argentine prisoners had nothing much to do but tend to the odd jobs that popped up. Consequently, they were dismissed from duty early and given permission to withdraw to their camp for a meal and a siesta.

.

1400 HOURS LOCAL

A surprise formation was called for the convicts, and they were rousted from their naps to form up. They obeyed the summons with the same dogged acceptance they demonstrated for surprise searches and rousting about from prison guards.

Suboficial Punzarron, Sargento-Mayor Chaubere and Sargento Muller had arrived with a box of used Spanish Army green fatigue uniforms complete with service caps. The type of military sandals worn in Morocco were included in the issue. The convicts were immediately ordered to strip off the blue prison overalls they usually wore and change into the replacement garments.

The uniforms actually raised the morale of the hard cases among the gang. This was a sign of even more change to come. Perhaps life would indeed become better for them. They horsed around and joked as the uniforms were pulled on. It took some time for everyone to sort through the clothing to find the proper fits. Even Punzarron showed good humor as he walked around, correcting the way they had put on the service caps. Most had the headgear tipped back on their heads and a half dozen were actually wearing them sideways. When they learned to keep them straight and tipped down toward their noses, they liked the swaggering look it gave them.

A half hour later when all were dressed properly, they formed up in their usual formation. Punzarron stood to their front. "Ahora--now," he said, "you are about to become men. Real men! We are going to turn you into soldiers. Before today we simply lined you up and ushered you from place to place for your work. It is time you learned what is called drill. We will take it a lesson at a time, and before you know it, you will look dignified and impressive as you march like soldiers when you go about the garrison." He turned to Muller. "Sargento! Al frente y centro! Marche!"

Muller marched up beside Punzarron and came to a halt, stamping his feet to the ground.

"Observe how the sargento is standing," Punzarron said. "He is at the position of attention. His chin is raised, shoulders back and squared, and his hands are straight and aligned with the seams of his trousers. His heels are together with his toes turned out at a forty-five-degree angle."

The convicts took careful note of how Muller stood. "Now! Observe this!" Punzarron said. He looked at Muller. "At ease!"

The sargento smartly snapped his hands around behind his back, simultaneously grasping them together. At the same time, he moved his left foot to the left with another stamping of boots on the ground.

"Notice how marcial--soldierly--he is when he moves," Punzarron said. Once more he turned to the demonstrator. "Pongase en posicion de firmes!"

Muller whipped into the position of attention.

"Pongase en posicion de descanso!"

Muller assumed the position of at ease.

From that point on, the three Falangists ran the convicts through the drill. It didn't take them long to catch on, and they moved from "attention" to "at ease" with military smartness. The only one having trouble was Gordo Pullini's main man Navajaso Coletti. He had always been a slow learner, and several times he reacted too late to the commands. Punzarron's good humor faded when Coletti had gotten a step behind and was standing at ease when he should have been standing at attention. The suboficial charged into the ranks and hit the convict as hard as he could. Coletti went to the ground but came up fighting.

"Calmate!" Pullini shouted at him. "Take it easy!"

Coletti pulled back his fists but glared at Punzarron. Then he brought himself to the right position. He took an additional hard slap across the face from the suboficial without reacting to it.

From that point on, the instructors put the students through the rudiments of marching. They went from "forward march" to "halt." Then "to the rear march" was introduced, and they began moving forward and back, keeping in step as Punzarron bellowed out the cadence, "Uno, dos, tres, quatro!"

Things began going better until they moved into the column and flanking movements. From that point on, all mistakes were dealt with punches and kicks from the trio of Falangist drill masters. But eventually, bruised and angry, the convicts responded quickly and correctly to the commands as the period of training continued.

.

1800 HOURS

GENERAUSIMO Jose Maria de Castillo y Plato stood with Coronel Jeronimo Busch at the entrance to the convicts' camp. They watched as the prisoners marched back in a column of twos, eyes to the front, shoulders back, and in step with the cadence. Punzarron marched his charges inside, put them through a couple of "left flank,"

"right flank," "to the rear" and column movements, then halted them, facing them toward him. He dismissed them, and the tired men walked wearily to their tents to prepare their evening meal.

Punzarron reported to the two officers while Chaubere and Muller headed for the noncommissioned officers' mess bunker. Castillo was pleased. "I congratulate you, suboficial, you have shaped that scum into something resembling soldiers."

Punzarron smiled at the compliment. But inside the camp, Navajaso Coletti walked up to the gang leader, Gordo Pullini. He spoke softly to his chief, saying, "If you ever decide to have that Portuguese hijo de puta killed, I would like the honor of sending him to hell."

"That I promise you, Nava," Pullini said. "Now let's eat and get some rest after all this nonsense."

Chapter 13

PETROLEO COLMO FIELD OFFICE GRAN CHACO

6 JANUARY

0515 HOURS LOCAL

THE EC-635 helicopter had landed five kilometers to the southwest of the field offices, out of sight and hearing of the site. Now, after a quick cross-country hike from the aircraft, Coronel Jeronimo Busch and his companion Suboficial Adolfo Punzarron peered at the facility through their binoculars. They were fifty meters away, well hidden under their camouflage capes as they observed the target of that morning's mission. Twenty meters farther behind the command duo, Sargento-Mayor Amaud Chaubere and Sargento Antonio Muller, along with four Falangist troops, were also concealed in the grass of the savannah.

The bright red Petroleo helicopters, tied down on their pads, were easily visible, but no guards were within sight. "They are careless with their security," Punzarron remarked.

"I do not think they want to give an outward impression that they are a tactical combat outfit," Busch said.

This mission was planned and put into execution the evening before. The Falangist intelligence officer, newly promoted Comandante Diego Tippelskirch, had been radioed a confirmation that the Petroleo Colmo Oil Company was a CIA front. This verification also contained the information that three missing Falangist fighters captured by the bandidos were being held in the firm's field office in the southeastern part of the Gran Chaco.

Now Busch turned toward Chaubere and Muller to signal them to move forward with the four troops. They approached with Star submachine guns locked and loaded to join Busch and Punzarron. The group moved en masse toward the building with Busch in the lead. When they reached the door, they paused only long enough to listen for any activity within the building. There was none. The coronel kicked the front door open, and they rushed inside.

The raiders found nothing but a small office, and they wasted no time in charging through another door that led farther into the interior of the building. This was a dormitory of sorts with four men lying in bunks. They had just awakened and opened their eyes in time for a quick glimpse of their killers. Eight submachine guns spurted bursts of 9-millimeter slugs that swept across the sleeping area. The oil company men were visibly pummeled by the bullet impacts, and a couple toppled out of their bunks onto the floor.

Muller noticed some keys hanging on a far wall by another door. He went over and took them off the wall. After unlocking the egress, he stepped into a short hallway that led to a cell at the end. He hurried to the barred gate and saw the three Falangists. Two were standing up grasping the bars, while the other looked up weakly from where he lay on his bunk.

One of the standing prisoners grinned widely. "Por Dios! We are glad to see you!"

The other man on his feet, a veteran sargento of the Chilean marines, was so happy he laughed alo hijos de chingadas were going to send us back to Santiago for court-martial:'

Muller quickly opened the cell, and the two shook hands with them both, looking down at the man who still lay on his bunk. "How's he doing?"

"Not too good," the first prisoner said. "He was given some medical attention, but they said he would have to go to a hospital for proper treatment. They were going to fly us out this afternoon."

The second prisoner gestured at their badly injured comrade. "He's not really fully conscious." He looked into Muller's eyes. "We don't have the facilities to do anything for him if we take the poor tipo back to Fuerte Franco. And if we leave our poor companero here, they will take him away for treatment, but after that, he will go under intense interrogation."