The Battle for Houston...The Aftermath (44 page)

The first, older dirt airfield was barren and empty. Admiral Rogers was right when he had described ruins. There was not much left, only a few walls and a part of a roof on a couple of the smaller buildings. Enough to keep equipment dry if it rained and they were sure it would. It actually started twenty minutes later; as the night went darker, rain clouds passed overhead and a very light drizzle began to wet them.

There was an old path from the beach area north of where they came ashore and it led them to the old runway, and then further north towards the main town and airport at Cold Bay.

Charlie Meyers, a mile north of the dirt runway radioed the rear group to tell them to move towards the first runway, warned that there wasn’t much vegetation or hills to hide movement, and there was an old road to the west of the runway, which had recent tire tracks, a Chinese jeep by the look of it, so hide all foot tracks.

He and his men had also begun to sweep their tracks, once they came across the larger road leading into the old runway.

Suddenly Charlie Myers crouched down and the three men behind him did the same. He heard a faint snore, a human snore, yards in front of him. With hand movements he told Rodriquez and Wong to stay down, their lighter uniforms were easier to be seen. After giving more hand signals, he headed left to flank the area in front and Mendez went to the right. A slight misty breeze had helped to send the noise south.

Fifty yards north, and directly on the path, they came across a heavily camouflaged anti-aircraft defense missile system on the rear of a Chinese jeep.

Both men crawled in as close as they could; the area had sparse ground cover, only grass a foot or so high. Charlie could see two men, both asleep, and they were wearing the same uniforms as Major Wong was wearing. He returned to the others.

Major, there are two men just north of us manning a mobile missile launcher on the back of a jeep,” whispered Charlie to the three men gathered around him. “You and Rodriquez head up the road and we will cover you from several yards to their south; the light is better against the darker north sky to see what is going on. They are Chinese, asleep, and I’m sure they are not meant to be. Sneak back like a Chinese officer would to catch them asleep and then ask them these questions. Mendez and I will cover you. Once done, leave them be. I don’t want any alarm signals of missing men just yet. Rodriquez, you don’t speak a word of Chinese, just grunt and look like you are the man’s aide or something. Write notes; you don’t need weapons.”

Twenty minutes later Major Wong quietly sneaked up to the side of the jeep with Sergeant Rodriquez a step behind and had to literally shake the men awake.

“Both of you sleeping at your position! Didn’t I hear orders last month that at least one man must always remain awake?” stated Major Wong in Chinese to the two surprised and sleepy men, both wrapped up in blankets, and who were trying to assemble themselves in a erect and proper guard position.

“Yes, Sir, Sergeant!” One man shouted out.

“No need to wake the others, I’m going to inspect them after you,” stated Major Wong keeping his voice down. He suddenly realized he had to check his dark jacket to see what his rank and name was and realized that the former wearer’s name, above the upper left breast pocket, was that of a lowly Sergeant Chee, so he acted like one. “You are lucky I’m only a sergeant and not an officer. They would not be as kind as I am.” Then he remembered the questions he was to ask them.

“How long have you been guarding this launcher? Maybe it is time to move you to another one. How many of the launchers have you guarded in the last few weeks, Private?”

“Private Fung, Sergeant. Just the three south of the runway, Sergeant. We are scheduled to move to one of the northern jeeps tomorrow night, Sergeant.”

“And the other placements?” he asked, immediately realizing that there weren’t any. The man looked puzzled. “Just testing you! Who is your commander?”

Corporal Zeng and then Sergeant Ma, Sergeant,” the private replied.

“And since you have been asleep for most of the night, can you remember your password for tomorrow morning to return to the airfield?”

“Yes, Sergeant! Tomorrow morning’s password is ‘turnip’”.

“OK, I need to make a report, but I will not mention this misconduct. What building is your platoon in, Private Fung?”

“Block three, by the mess hall, Sergeant.”

The two men left the worried-looking guards to man their jeep, and headed east along the length of the long runway, as if to head to the next missile emplacement.

Charlie Meyers sneaked up to them while they were walking and “Sergeant Chee” told them what he had learned.

Ten minutes later they silently found the second jeep, several hundred yards from the first one. Again the two guards were asleep and much the same happened. This time Wong had three different questions to ask.

Once the men were awake, he began. “Private, tomorrow’s pass code is lettuce, tomato or turnip, which one is correct?”

“Turnip, Sergeant.”

“Excellent, at least sleeping didn’t deprive you of your intelligence. Maybe it has helped your memory. Let’s see? “How many American civilians are on base?”

“Only the one block of prisoners remains, Sergeant, and the VIPs. The rest left months ago.”

“I know that, stupid!” How many Americans in that block was my question?”

“I don’t know, Sergeant. We are never allowed to mix with them, but yesterday morning on parade, I saw about a hundred.”

“Well done, Private. Let us see if your sleepy commander, the Lance Corporal is just as intelligent. How many of our glorious soldiers were on base today?”

“I have never counted, but at parade yesterday there were the usual three battalions, Sergeant!”

“I know that, you stupid soldier. How many soldiers in a battalion? That is a question you might be asked for your next promotion.”

“I have been studying, Sergeant! Normal modern Chinese army battalions, 700, Sergeant; our Zedong Red Army Battalions, 900 men, Sergeant!” the man responded proudly.”

“Since you are good men, I will let this sleeping-on-guard misconduct pass. Now stay awake and he left.

Again the information was passed to Charlie Meyers as they moved along outside the perimeter of the southern side of the airport and found the third jeep, this time both men were awake.

“Well done, Privates. You are the first guards I found awake tonight. I will tell your superior, Sergeant Ma, I believe?” The men nodded looking tired. “Do you remember the password for the morning?” Both men were better than the last and nodded that they did, and also kept their mouths shut. “Turnip, right?” Again they nodded. “Let’s see if you are really awake. How many missile emplacements are north of the runway, Private?” stated Wong peering at the man’s name on his Zedong Electronics’ military tunic. The weather had lightened slightly and he could just about see the man’s name on his tunic.

“Two jeeps, Sergeant,” the private replied.

“Private, how many machine gun, mortar or artillery emplacements are stationed outside the airport fence?”

“None, Sir, they are all inside the fence,” the man responded thinking that he had been asked a trick question.

“You men are really awake. First Private, if we have three missile emplacements south of the airport and two north, how many more are there?”

“A trick question again, Sergeant?” the Private replied, smiling and now at ease. “Five is the correct number Sergeant.”

“Well done men. In my report I will mention to Sergeant Ma that his men at this missile emplacement were alert and ready for action. Now, don’t forget your password tomorrow morning,” and he turned, with Sergeant Rodriquez following him into the darkness.

* * *

Back at Elmendorf, the last of the aircraft were preparing to head to Dillingham, which now looked like the whole U.S. Air Force had come to visit. The runway was long enough for all the aircraft, except the 747s. It hadn’t been built to carry such large and heavy aircraft, so all the cargo and supplies came in on C-130s. Tents by the dozens, large, medium and small went up in hours of the men arriving. The locals were excited to see two F-4 Phantoms arrive and a couple of hours later two F-5s come in, old and still very noisy jets.

The next day, two more F-4s arrived in between a constant stream of C-130s bringing in arms, fuel and supplies. Then six Z-10 helicopters arrived just before dark. These caused interest, as two of them still had their Chinese air force paintjobs and four had U.S. air force colors.

Now it was time for the three Mustangs to make an appearance. Early the next morning, Martie, Preston and Carlos landed and, this time many came out to see the old World War II aircraft; this was something the two oldest gentlemen hadn’t seen at Dillingham for well over half a century.

Finally, the second group of six Z-10s arrived, and with them several different types of American helicopters; mostly old naval Seahawks, a Jolly Green Giant and two Hueys.

Overnight the town’s population grew ten-fold as the Seals and Marines, a company of a hundred men per C-130, arrived and were dropped off with tents and equipment. Twenty aircraft worked all night to bring them in and by morning, two of the larger helicopters headed out and were to return throughout the day with pieces of artillery slung underneath.

The second load of Seal Team Six, commandeered by Lieutenant Murphy were waking up on the frigates, with the submarines now alongside and thirty miles off shore. The ships were now stationed south of the large island and due south of Cold Bay. The calm weather had changed somewhat in the area, the cloud layer had descended down to 1,000 feet and there was a non-stop windy drizzle.

* * *

“Hey, General, are you awake yet?” Charlie Meyers called into his satellite phone ten minutes before dawn.

“Yes, Lieutenant Meyers, I was awaiting your call,” the general replied smiling. He was getting to like this ugly-looking Seal.

“Your Major Wong did a great job. Ok, got something to write with?” and the general replied that he had.

“Five modern anti-aircraft missile emplacements on jeeps, three south of the runway and two locations north. They look like permanent fixtures as their tires haven’t moved for days. I haven’t studied Chinese crap for a while but believe them to be swivel HQ-7s, older models with four missiles per jeep. They are the only armaments outside the airport perimeter. I believe there is enough firepower to bring down your entire air force, General.” Patterson agreed. “There are three battalions of 2,700 men inside the airport and I believe approximately 100 American prisoners inside, the town’s residential population, I would assume.”

“Sound like the right number,” Patterson replied.

“That’s it for now. I’m going to get Major Wong in there in an hour. He can give us a good idea of what to expect. He is the only guy who can go in during daylight and then, we might go in and visit after dark, depending if we can get in and out undetected.”

“Wong is good, he has done this often, and I did get a Chinese Colonel’s uniform packed somewhere in your supplies. It has his real name on it and that should be enough to give him freedom to roam,” added the general.

“Right, General. He seemed a little perplexed in a sergeant’s uniform last night!” laughed Charlie.

“Landing tonight begins at 03:00 hours and the weather looks wet and windy. Call me same time tomorrow. Good luck, Lieutenant!” and the general ended the conversation.

Major Wong found a pressed and neatly packed colonel’s uniform, a set of extremely powerful army-issued Chinese binoculars, and a swagger stick in one of the other men’s packs and he happily increased his rank. They ate a cold meal of rations and three men held sheeting and kept the “colonel” dry. They were now stationed at the old runway and there wasn’t much to keep the men dry, other than a couple of small 20-foot by 8-foot brick buildings with roof corners and parts of the walls still intact. The wind wasn’t much help.

The drizzle eased as Wong was escorted as close as possible to the two jeeps on the dirt road without being seen. The clouds parted slightly and rays of sunshine dotted the sparse landscape. He thanked the men and meandered forward to walk up the road. It didn’t take long for one of the Chinese soldiers, a new man, a sergeant this time, to run up to him and salute.

“We didn’t see you come down the road, Sir,” the perplexed Sergeant exclaimed.

“Of course you wouldn’t, Ma. I came around from the eastern side of the airport, across the grass and up the road. I try to do this walk at least once a week, Sergeant.”

“Yes sir. May I ask you for today’s password, sir? I must do my job, Sir!”

“Of course, soldier, it is good that you are alert and saw me so quickly. Last week I nearly walked past the first jeep before they looked up and saw me. ‘Turnip’ is today’s password, I think, Sergeant Ma, or let me see, is that tomorrow’s?”

“No, no you are correct, Sir! ‘Turnip’ is today, ‘Mao’ is tomorrow’s password.”

“Glad I got it right. Now let me get back before it starts to rain again. I was lucky to get my walk in today without getting wet.” With that Wang returned the salute and continued up the road.

The second jeep didn’t take any interest in him several hundred yards further east and on the road leading up to the closest main gate. There was good daylight visual between the three jeeps he had “inspected” before dawn and they had seen him waving his swagger stick at their sergeant in the first jeep.

He had been told that many Chinese officers enjoyed using these short riding crops as authority and had asked for one to be packed with the uniform. Thank God most of the stuff purchased in the USA was ‘Made in China’.

At the main gate, two guards looking alert, watched him coming and saluted as he arrived.

“Turnip,” he stated and without a word they opened the single smaller gate next to the larger gates, and he walked unopposed into the enemy camp.

The guards must have phoned for a jeep for him as one sped across the runway. The driver saluted and he got in, asking to be taken to the American prisoner’s building, he couldn’t think of any other place at that moment in time.