Odd things were skittering and Littering where there shouldn"t have been odd things.
The darting brown bunnies weren"t girls, they were lithe and smooth-skinned katoys-female impersonators.
Someone had made a terrible mistake.
1030 Hours LOCAL, WEDNESDAY 16 OCTOBER 1968 OFFICE OF THE COMMANDER,.
8TH TACTICAL FIGHTER WING.
UBON ROYAL THAI AIR FORCE BASE.
KINGDOM OF THAILAND.
"Yes, sir-no, sir-no excuse, sir," were the only words Court Bannister had uttered in the last twelve minutes to Colonel Stanley D. Bryce, Commander, 8th Tactical Fighter Wing, and (hopefully, in Stanley D.
Bryce"s mind, anyhow) brigadier general selectee.
During that twelve minutes, Bryce had questioned Court"s wisdom in allowing his troops to partic.i.p.ate in what was now known basewide as Hostettler"s Holocaust; the wisdom of the United States Air Force in even allowing an officer"s commission to be placed on someone such as Court m. Bannister; his own wisdom in allowing Bannister into his wing to begin with; and finally the wisdom of almighty G.o.d in saddling him with such a bunch of juvenile delinquents masquerading as F-4 aircrewmen. Stanley D. Bryce roamed his office, smacking his fist into his palm and glaring at the object of his anger.
Court Bannister was taking all these fusillades by himself.
Chef Hostettler was in the hospital with a sprained ankle, suffered when he fell off the Officer"s Club roof because he had laughed too hard to retain his footing. "There will, by G.o.d," Colonel Stanley D. Bryce had thundered, "be a line-of-duty investigation about that Hostettler and his ankle."
Nor was Lieutenant Colonel Conrad D. Russell, MD, on the line in Bryce"s office to suffer the slings and arrows, since he was in jail in the town of Ubon Ratchithani, along with such exalted partic.i.p.ants in Hostettler"s Holocaust as Army Lieutenant Colonel Wolfgang X. Lochert, USAF Captain Joseph Kelly, USAF Technical Sergeant Manuel Dominguez, Technical Sergeant Dan Bernick, and various members of the Phantom FACs who had thought a midnight swim in the Mun River was just the ticket after a hard evening at the club.
It wasn"t the nocturnal swim that had upset the Thai city police so much as the fact that the farangs (foreigners) had demolished a corner of the wall around a Buddhist wat as they had run the borrowed baht bus into the Mun River, where the bus had floated for eight seconds, then sunk nosedown in the mud. A wat is the complex containing Buddhist temples and other buildings.
The commander of the Phantom FACs, USAF Major Courtland Esclaremonde de Monts6gur Bannister, FV47028-6484, was not in the Ubon Ratchithani slammer because he and Captain Thomas "Cod Piece" Partin had accompanied Major Richard "The Chef" Hostettler to the hospital rather than motor into town with the troops.
Stanley D. Bryce was a big man, almost as tall as Court Bannister and broader of shoulder. He stood at 90 degrees to Court and bellowed into his ear, "Do you know what California Congressman Nebals told me? He said I was just as culpable as the animals that wrecked the Club patio, and that he held me personally responsible for the stress, mental anguish, and offended sensibilities of his wife and the wives of the other members of the congressional delegation. Further, he said the Thai Government plans a formal protest to the Department of State about the naked, ah, Thai people in the Club, and about the damaged wat in town. This whole affair will seriously erode relations between the US and Thailand and may cause revocation of certain measures of the Status of Forces Agreement."
Bryce was breathing hard, and retreated around his desk to sit down.
Court remained at rigid attention. Bryce continued. "I should relieve you of command of the Phantoms, revoke your IP orders, and rea.s.sign you as mess hall officer at Soc Trang." Soc Trang was the tiniest of USAF bases in the steamy Delta of South Vietnam. Its mess hall was a 10 x 20-foot tent.
"But I won"t ... for now, anyhow. We"re too shorthanded. But you fly straight and level or that"s exactly where you will wind up. You read me, Major?"
"Yes, sir," Court said.
"My G.o.d," Bryce said. "We just had the big River Rat bash with over seventy pilots at Udorn, and except for some elephant s.h.i.t in the Officer"s Club they didn"t get into near the trouble you and your men did."
"Yes, sir."
"Consider yourself lucky you"re not getting an RBI."
"Yes, sir."
An RBI was a Reply By Indors.e.m.e.nt letter from a commander to a miscreant, who had to indorse that he had read the contents of the letter chronicling the Indorser"s misdeeds.
"What I want you to do is get the Legal Officer and go to the Thai Police. Straighten out that mess, pay the damages, get the men out of jail. There"s a helicopter waiting for Kelly and his crew, and an Air America Beech for that Green Beret. Get them to their planes and get them out of here, understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Bryce looked at his watch. "Then get back here. At 1400 I want you to report to Colonel Mayberry, who is here from 7th Air Force specifically to see you. He will be in the intell office."
"Yes, sir." Court remembered Mayberry as the man who worked for the Director of Operations at 7th. Oh s.h.i.t, he thought. I"m really in it if I have to see him about all this.
"Dismissed," Bryce said.
"Yes, sir." Court saluted smartly, did an about-face, and marched from his commander"s office.
The door to Bryce"s ante-office opened and Colonel Tim Mayberry stepped in. He was a thick-shouldered man with black hair, and wore Air Force fatigues with command pilot wings st.i.tched in white thread over the left pocket, and big white colonel"s eagles on the collar tips. He had a wide and amiable face and heavy wrinkles around his eyes. He was grinning.
"Good job, Stan," he said. "I"ll bet Bannister"s going to walk mighty softly around here for some time."
"Thought you"d find it interesting to listen in. I just wish I could hook him up with that a.s.shole of a congressman, Nebals, and let him hear Nebals freak out about what dregs, lechers, and murderers our military men are today. That would be the worst punishment I could think of for Bannister and his crew.
Thank G.o.d for that guy from Michigan who was with them, Ford. He said he heard we lost a few this week. Said he saw some combat himself in the Pacific in the Big War. He knows how guys act. He"ll keep a lid on this back in DC."
"What about the Thais?" Mayberry asked.
"Yeah, well, that"s another story, a bad one. If Amba.s.sador Martin hears about the wat, we"re dead."
"Think the Legal Officer can smooth things over? Collect money from the guys and pay remuneration or such?"
"Maybe he can with the monks from the wat, if we pay for the damage, and to the owners of the bus, but if the mayor and the kha luang, the province governor, decide to take it to Bangkok, then the Amba.s.sador will hear about it for sure."
"No way of stopping that from the Pentagon," Mayberry said.
"Then it"s goodbye BG for you."
Bryce smiled.
"You don"t seem all that worried."
Stan Bryce sighed. "Funny thing, Tim, I"m really not. It just doesn"t seem important anymore. What"s important are the guys here and the miserable war they"re trying to fight."
He got up and walked to the window overlooking the busy flight line. "I despise this war more than anything I"ve ever encountered ...
"The war, or the people running the war?"
"All of it. The G.o.ddammed politicians that favor or oppose the war based only on whether or not they"ll get reelected, not what is best for the country. The G.o.ddammed people in this world who really believe the North Vietnamese horses.h.i.t that they are an oppressed nation. And those are the same people who believe Ho Chi Minh is a real nationalist and patriot, not a man who spent twenty years out of his country learning how to lead it into slavery, and who killed tens of thousands of farmers and landlords to consolidate his position to do it. And G.o.ddammit, I despise our chiefs in Washington for putting up with that mean, petty, GI-killing micro-managing son of a b.i.t.c.h McNamara. And that SOB Johnson who let McNamara do it."
He was breathing hard.
"Easy, Stan. You"re pretty wound up."
"Let me tell you I"m wound up. And any combat wing commander in this f.u.c.ked-up war who isn"t wound up about the stupid ways and stupid reasons for which his guys are getting killed doesn"t deserve to be a commander." Stan Bryce walked back to his desk. "I"m not the same man I was when I took over this wing last fall. Yeah, I suppose I did see it as a chance to make BG. Most every other commander from here has. But now it"s the troops I care about. I want to take care of them, see them through this."
Tim Mayberry coughed. "Well, there is such a thing as the mission, you know. That is supposed to come before the troops."
Bryce sat down. "I used to think I had to accomplish the mission at all costs. But you know, Tim, some of these missions are not worth the fuel they consume, much less any crewman"s life. As far as I"m concerned these guys are all heroes in a war that isn"t allowed to have heroes. I don"t really care if they get all bent out of shape at the Club. They don"t get much and yet they deserve a lot. If they can blow it all off at the Club, I"m all for it. You don"t get rich in the military and you don"t learn how to get rich in the military. Combine that with the s.h.i.t these guys go through, and a bit of a drunk now and then is little enough compensation. My only worry is that I might get fired, then perhaps these guys will get some meathead as a commander who"ll do anything to make BG."
Stan Bryce sat back and made a definite effort to relax.
"What is it you want to see Bannister about?"
"Eagle Station."
1145 Hours LOCAL, WEDNESDAY 16 OCTOBER 1968 POLICE HEADQUARTERS, UBON RATCHITHANI.
KINGDOM OF THAILAND.
Colonel Tienchai Sumisupan had a look of quiet rage on his leathery face. He wore the dark green uniform of the Thai Special Forces. Hands on hips, his upper torso thrust forward aggressively, his eyes flashing obsidian, at five foot ten inches he all but towered over the police captain standing at nervous attention in front of him. In the liquid syllables of the Thai language, Colonel Tienchai informed the captain that indeed the captain had done a superior job in apprehending the American farangs and that he would undoubtedly be handsomely rewarded in this life if not the next. Colonel Tienchai then told the captain that he should immediately release the prisoners and all the a.s.sociated paperwork to the colonel"s control and that he, the colonel, would take the matter on to proper prosecution.
Court Bannister stood quietly to one side, a thin major from the JAG office next to him. Both men had prudently decided to wear civilian clothes.
With all deference, the Thai police captain politely inquired if the esteemed Colonel Tienchai had the proper authority to resolve this unfortunate occurrence.
Tienchai"s liquid syllables suddenly became marbles poured on a tin roof as he informed the captain that he, Colonel Tienchai Sumisupan, was not only the head of the Thai Special Forces, he was also an aide to the King of Thailand. He pointed to the special badge on his uniform.
The police captain"s face became the color of clay. He stiffened and barked commands to two other men in police uniform, who all but leaped through the door to an adjoining room used for the Thai police court.
So far, Court did not have to become involved. When he had arrived he had found Colonel Tienchai already taking up the case of the imprisoned farangs. He was acting on behalf of a special friend, Tienchai had said when Court had explained who he was and why he and the JAG were there.
In the courtroom, reposing in various positions on the benches and chairs set up before the dais, were the sad remnants of the nocturnal attack on the Buddhist wat and the Mun River. Wolf Lochert sat tilted back on one wooden chair, arms folded, feet propped on another chair.
Doc Russell lay flat on three chairs placed next to each other. Some of the men were asleep on the floor, others sat up against the wall. All except Wolf Lochert looked wan, hung over, and exceedingly contrite. The two Thai police officers motioned them out and they filed into the main office, Wolf in the lead. He brightened when he saw Colonel Tienchai.
"Sawadee, Colonel Tienchai," Wolf said to him, and made the wye greeting by placing his hands together as if in prayer and inclining his head.
Tienchai returned the greeting and the two men shook hands. Tienchai turned to Court.
"Your men are free to go. I want to talk to your men, but not in here.
Put them on the bus. I"ll talk there."
As they walked out, Court told Wolf an Air America airplane was waiting for him. He led the group out into the bright sunlight and to a blue USAF bus. They walked with small steps and were very quiet. When they were seated, Tienchai came on board and stood in front of them.
"Gentlemen," he began, "the Thai government has the legal right to declare you persona non grata and give you twenty-four Hours to get out of Thailand. However, Colonel Lochert here, a witness to the whole scene, has interceded on your behalf It is fortunate indeed for you that he and I have a long-standing acquaintance. Earlier this morning he was able to convince the police captain that it would be in the captain"s best interest to contact me." He kept a straight face as he spoke. When Donny Higgens made a motion as if to tootle on his duck call, Wolf Lochert gave him a glare that could have bored through concrete.
Tienchai continued. "Each of you will yield 4,000 baht to a disbursing officer I will have at the Air Base tomorrow, to compensate for the bus being dried out and the wat being fixed. Whatever is left over will be considered a contribution to the monks at the wat." At 20 baht to the dollar, the fine for each man was $200. "Each of you will also write a short note to the monks at the Temple, apologizing for your actions.
Give them to the disbursing officer tomorrow."
Several of the men looked as if they wanted to speak to Colonel Tienchai and perhaps thank him for his intervention.
Doc Russell cleared his throat and stood up from his seat on the bus.
"Sir," he began.
Colonel Tienchai held up his hand. "I do not wish to hear anything from you men. You have insulted Thailand. I do not wish to hear either excuses or regrets. The monks may forgive you, I do not." He motioned to Court and Wolf Lochert to follow him off the bus. "I"ll drive you to the air base," he said.
Court told the JAG to get the men back to the base and to see that the three Jolly Greens were delivered to base operations, where the helicopter crew to return them were waiting.
The three men climbed into Tienchai"s jeep and followed the bus back to the Air Base. Court sat cramped in back. As with most Thai Army jeeps on civilian roads, the top was up to protect the occupants from the sun.
Wolf spoke as they pulled away from the police station. "You may not accept thanks from them, Tienchai, but you get mine, whether or not you want them. We spent a lot of time together at Lop Buri. You taught me many things. I thank you."
The Thai colonel drove in silence for a while. When he finally spoke, his voice was jovial. "My friend Wolfgang, we indeed go back. Not just Lop Buri. You and I did terrible things one night in Fayetteville when I was in training at Fort Bragg.
And you saved me from certain arrest by the sheriff for breaking both arms of the man who insulted my skin color."
The gate guard saluted the three men as Tienchai drove onto the base.
They parked under a tree next to base operations on the flight line.
Tienchai rested an arm on the wheel and looked at Wolf. "I tell you this. If those men had been tourists, they would be in jail for the next five years. We do not tolerate public drunkenness, and damage to a wat is beyond comprehension." He sighed. "But these are difficult times. Your men are doing difficult things. Few in the world truly understand what you Americans are doing here in Asia. You are buying us time to recognize the communists for what they are, and you are buying us time to improve our economic bases. We stand with you." Thailand had been the first Asian country to send troops to support the UN in Korea in 1951. In South Vietnam they maintained the Black Panther Brigade of Thai soldiers, which fought alongside US troops.
They said their goodbyes and promised to meet under better circ.u.mstances. Tienchai drove off. Court and Wolf walked into the base operations building, where the Jollys were ready to depart. Lochert threw a headlock on Joe Kelly and Manuel Dominguez before they could move, and gently b.u.t.ted their heads together.
"You two men are warriors. I needed you and you came."
He released them and slammed Bernick on the back. "You, too," he said with grave enthusiasm. "You, too." Then they were gone. In a great thrash of blades and turbine noise, the big Jolly Green HH-53B took off.
Court walked Wolf to the twin-engined Beech that was to fly him to Vientiane. The pilot was in the c.o.c.kpit.
"So you"re going back to Eagle Station," Court said.
"I have to. I"ve had some time to think about it and I don"t like the way the defenses are set up. We have the high ground, granted, very high ground. Over a mile almost straight up. But that karst ridge is like a boat in the water. You"d have to station a man every ten feet or so all the way around just to see the boarders, much less repel them.
And"-he waved a finger"it is quite a setup for an airborne attack by parachutists or helicopters. Following that, it would be very difficult to get reinforcements up there."
"What do they have in the way of a defending force?" Court asked.
"Not much. The basic defense plan is for VP"s men to see and stop them somewhere along an encircling perimeter they have set up several kilometers from the base of the karst."
"Why so far out?"
"Because there are villages out there and the defenders are from those villages."
"No place else has ever had an airborne attack?"
"No. You know, maybe it wouldn"t be a parachute drop.
There are increasing reports of enemy helicopters being seen in Laos.
And Eagle Station is close to the North Vietnamese border, so they could get over there fairly quick."