Craig and Malloy stepped out onto the bridge wing to watch as a cloud of aircraft appeared over the horizon. As they closed, Malloy identified them as Marine Ospreys. The amphibious assault ship Saipan had launched two dozen Ospreys carrying two companies of U.S. Marines. The tilt-rotor aircraft were headed for the top of Table Mountain.
A flight of four AV-8B Harriers screamed past the battleship. Loaded with bombs and gun pods, they would hit any remaining defenders on top of the mountain-covering the LZ while the Marines landed.
Malloy’s grim smile matched Craig’s. Caught between two advancing forces, with the Wisconsin’s guns and Marine fighters in support, the Afrikaners would have nowhere to go. They’d have to surrender-or die in place.
For all practical purposes, the battle for Cape Town was over.
DECEMBER I O-TRANSIT CAMP, 101 ST AIR ASSAULT DIVISION, NEAR THE D.
F.
MALAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, CAPE TOWN
The Marine helicopter touched down in a cloud of hot dust and wind. Its rotors were still turning as Lt. Gen. Jerry Craig,
flanked by his chief of staff and intelligence officer, jumped from the machine and marched over to a knot of men waiting near a long barbed wire fence. Craig noted that there were Marines, Army personnel, and South
African soldiers present. He hoped that was a good sign.
“Good morning, sir.” The senior officer, an Army lieutenant colonel, saluted, and Craig returned it quickly, still walking. The officer, a slim man with a carefully trimmed crew cut and a small scar on his chin, fell in beside him.
Ahead lay a massive tent city, still growing if the frantically working construction teams were any indication. Some men were erecting tents while others built more-permanent structures-mostly prefab hangars and maintenance sheds for the 101st’s helicopter fleet. Other troops were digging emplacements for heavy weapons at regular intervals along the fence line-an action prompted by last night’s incident.
“Over here, sir.” The party followed the fence line to a stretch of wire that had a six-foot gap cut in it. A row of bodies lay off to one side, covered by a green, Army-issue tarpaulin.
As Craig’s group approached, a young Army private standing near the fence came to attention and saluted. The lieutenant colonel nodded in his direction.
“This is PFC Moffett, General. “
Then he turned to the private.
“At ease, Moffett. Tell the general about last night.”
Clearly nervous in the presence of so much rank, Moffett tried his best to report.
“Sir! I was assigned the midnight to-oh-four-hundred guard post last night, the ninth of December, when I detected unauthorized personnel near the fence. When I ordered them to halt, they engaged me with unauthorized small-arms fire. So I was forced to return fire while calling for the corporal of the guard.”
Craig fought down a sudden grin.
“Unauthorized” small arms fire? He’d have to remember that one.
“Good work, son. You did the right things at the right time. Were you nervous?”
The private relaxed slightly and turned his head to look at
Craig.
“Nervous, sir? I was scared shitless!” Suddenly remembering whom he was speaking to, he braced, exclaiming, “Oh, fuck! I mean, excuse me, sir!”
Craig’s grin broke out into the open.
“Don’t worry, Corporal. We need men who do their job even when they’re scared. ” He glanced at the Army officer beside him.
“I think we can forgive Corporal Moffett’s language, this time.
We need NCOs who can think on their feet. Right, Colonel?”
The man nodded.
“Definitely, sir. ” He jerked his head to one side. Moffett took the hint, saluted again, and sidled away, grinning at his good fortune.
Craig turned his gaze on the row of dead men. There were four of them, and the bare feet sticking out from under the tarpaulin showed that they were black.
Soldiers pulled back the sheet, revealing four young African men, all dressed in fatigue-style uniforms of mixed cut and color. Moffett had shot three of them, the Army officer explained. The fourth had been killed by another guard as he attempted to flee.
“All our sentries are equipped with nightvision gear, General. I don’t think they were ready for that.”
And Craig was not ready for black guerrillas.
“Who were they?” he asked.
“What were they trying to do?”
The lieutenant colonel shrugged.
“We didn’t find any documents, but one of them had an ANC pin on his shirt. Other than that slim link, nothing.” He frowned down at the row of corpses.
“As for what they were up to? Well, they had three AK-47s, one RPG launcher, and some satchel charges. And this part of the wire is opposite our helicopter park. That’s a pretty juicy target for a sabotage attack, sir. “
Craig nodded reluctantly.
“Double your guards. We shouldn’t expect them all to have Corporal Moffett’s aim.”
He turned to the staff officers with him.
“Increase security at all our camps. I don’t want any frigging Beiruts on my watch, understand?”
They nodded. Nobody in the U.S. military took the threat of terrorist attacks lightly.
Craig spun back to face the Army lieutenant colonel.
“Send out a tracking party right away. See if you can pick up any further information about these guys-where they came from,
if they had any help.” Addressing the party as a whole, he said, “We’re not here to hunt down the ANC, but by God, we will protect our own people.”
Turning away, Craig headed for the helicopter. Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, “Sounds good, anyway. “
Another complication.
As his helicopter lifted off and headed back to the Mount Whitney, he cursed his luck. Cape Town was supposed to be a safe haven, a place where his men could prepare for their real job. While he didn’t view his primary mission as “liberating South Africa’s black population,” certainly booting out Vorster should be good news for them. Were these guerrillas working with the Cubans, or did they just hate armed strangers in their country?
New contingents of troops were landing constantly, crowding camps that were springing up like plants after a desert rain. Every airfield in the area was so choked with military aircraft that the precious engineer units had been diverted to expanding one of them.
Craig closed his eyes for a brief moment’s rest. Just coordinating this buildup was an exhausting, but vital, job. And now he faced this new distraction. Ashore among a fragmented and violent population, he longed for the relief of open combat.
DECEMBER 12-CNN HEADLINE NEWS
A blond, thirtyish announcer sat before a now-familiar map of sub-Saharan
Africa.
“The American buildup in South Africa continues, amid criticism both at home and abroad. For different reasons, Senator Steven Travers of
Nevada and Soviet foreign minister Alexei Tumansky both released statements today condemning U.S. involvement in the region.”
The scene shifted to show Tumansky in front of the United Nations building, surrounded by aides and reporters. Bundled in an elegant overcoat and fur cap, the minister spoke earnestly.
“Our resolution is intended to call world attention to
