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!'
.
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.'
'Their leaders have prob'ly read Mao's Little Red Book'
'Yeah,' Mike said. 'It looks like the patrol is moving on. I'll bet half my next payday that the bastards are out looking for us.'
'I'll bet all my next payday,' Dave said. 'C'mon! We got to get back to the detachment.'
The two SEALs slid off the knoll, then turned toward Big Creek.
.
SEAL BIVOUAC
BIG CREEK
1400 HOURS LOCAL
THE Odd Couple, having rejoined the First Assault Section, led them back through the outlying defensive perimeter of the bivouac. The group hurried in the direction to Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan's CP. While the riflemen and the SAW gunner of the team dropped off, Lieutenant James Cruiser, Chief Matt Gunnarson and Connie Concord followed Mike and Dave. As the quintet strolled toward the creek, they were joined by Senior Chief Buford Dawkins, Milly Mills and Gutsy Olson of the Second Assault Section.
Brannigan was munching on a cereal bar when the eight men arrived. 'Well!' he said. 'And to what do I owe the honor of all these visitors?'
