“Why not move out at first light, sir?” Bob Halloway proposed.
“I mean start moving right at BMNT. Shouldn’t take us more than an hour plus, two at the most.”
“Too late,” the Bull replied. “They’ll be gone at dawn. Never fails.”
“Why not start moving now, tonight?” Brightly suggested.
“Think that’s the answer, Slim,” I said. “If you look at our options, that’s the only one that’ll get us into the area at first light.”
Silence.
“Uh… you mean overland, sir?” Sullivan asked. “There’s no light tonight. That shit’s just too thick to navigate with no moon, sir. It’d take us the rest of the night and most of tomorrow.”
“Naw, not overland, Top. Right down the red line, straight down Route 506. It’ll take us within a klick of the mountain, two at the most.”
Again, silence.
“Sir,” Mac said, “you just don’t move on a red line at night. I mean, honestly, sir, it just isn’t done. We’d only be asking for trouble.
‘Sides,” he added, smiling, “I’ve only got four more days. Don’t want to become a fucking ambush statistic with only four days to go!”
“Come on, Mac,” I responded. “No one’s gonna become a statistic because no one’s gonna get ambushed. Who the hell’s gonna ambush us? This is our AO, there’s no other friendly folk in the area, and we’ll confirm that with battalion before we depart. That leaves only Charlie.”
“Right!” Mac interrupted. “And he, sir, is our concern.” Then, turning to the others, “Hey, fellows, when you all start getting old mail on me next week, I want it marked PCS, not Search!”
“And…” I continued, a bit more confidently. “Really think we ought to move Mac, Charlie ain’t gonna be lying in ambush on 506 tonight,” I argued. “I mean, why the hell should he? He knows that our units don’t move around at night; he sure as hell knows we don’t move bold ass down a red line! Hey, Mac, you said it yourself; it just isn’t done. So why the fuck would he waste time setting up in ambush on a remote secondary road, waiting for an enemy that, by doctrine, never travels those roads at night?”
I paused briefly, allowing the “council” time to recognize the logic of my argument. I’d already pretty much decided we were going to go along with Slim’s proposal, but I wanted the willing support of the others. And, with the assistance of my first sergeant, I got it.
“CO’s right, gentlemen,” he said. “Charlie’s good, but he ain’t behind every rock, and he sure as shit can’t ambush the whole country. He only goes into ambush when he knows target A is gonna travel route B on date C, and then he spends a hell of a lot of time planning, preparing, rehearsing, moving, and so forth. And none of that’s applicable here.”
“Well, shit, Top, we know all of that,” Mac said, a bit tauntingly, smiling. “And we’re ready to move. We just wanted to see if you knew what the captain and Slim there were talking about.”
While they remained assembled, I got on the radio to Major Byson. Gotta be careful here, I thought to myself. Don’t want to piss him off again. I’ll just state the facts as we see them, make our proposal, and if he says no, we’ll all go to bed. Company needs the rest anyway.
The battalion TOC’s night watch replied that Major Byson wasn’t in the area but relayed that they would try to locate him. Oh, shit, hope I’m not getting him out of the sack! Majors don’t look kindly on captains interrupting what little cot time they get while assigned duties as a battalion S-3. Moments later, Byson came on the air.
“Comanche, this is Arizona Three. What have you got? Over.”
“This is Comanche Six. In regard to tomorrow’s op… well, what with the fog on this end in the Alpha Mike, feel we’re gonna miss the boat if we wait for an extract.” I paused for a second and then continued. “We go out on foot tonight. That way we’d be in position to hit the objective at first light. I’m confident we can make the move without problem. Over.”
“Hey, sounds good to me, Comanche. What are your proposed route and start point time? Check that, I’ll extend your AO. You choose the route and get back to me ASAP.”
“This is Comanche Six. Roger. Need to confirm absence of any other friendlies in our extended AO and ensure red leg isn’t active anywhere between us and the objective after start time. My FO is working this through his channels… uh… just want to advise you of my concern.”
“Roger, Comanche. Good copy, and there are no other friendly folk in your area. I’ll double-check the red- leg issue also… break. Now listen, I think it’s a good idea, but before I give you a green light, want to pass it by the Six. So stand by a moment.”
And so I stood by. Within a matter of minutes, Colonel Lich was on the radio.
“Comanche Six, this is Arizona Six. Understand what you want to do. Now listen up. It’s your AO. You’re the man on the ground, and if you think it’s a sound move, do it! Any questions?” I liked Colonel Lich.
Passing the handset back to Blair, I gave the council a thumbs up.
“It’s a go! Let’s get ready to move.”
“One thing, sir,” Mac said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to move too early. Mean, it’s only gonna take us a couple hours to get down there, and we don’t want to go into that bunker complex in the dark. Recommend we start moving around 0300 hours. That should put us in position to hit the complex at first light.”
“Good idea, Mac,” I said. “Let’s plan on it. That’ll also give our troops some more sack time before we move—God knows they need it; we all do.”
I paused, collecting my thoughts, then continued. “Okay, we want to move light, silent, and fast. That means leaving our rucks, mortars, and starlight scopes behind. And that’s too much for Four Six to handle by themselves. They just don’t have the bodies.”
Turning to Lieutenant Halloway, I said, “So I’m sorry, Bob, know you want to be on this, but you’re staying with Four Six. You’ll be in charge, of course; coordinate with Mac and Bill on how you’re gonna fill in their portions of the perimeter.”
Then, looking back at the others, I said, “Okay, order of march is Two Six, followed by One Six.” Winking at Mac, I added, “This probably being your last one, Mac, think you should have the honor of leading?”
He grinned and, replied, somewhat sarcastically, “Thanks, sir, and I want you to know I appreciate it.”
“Thought you would. Start point time is 0300 hours. Start point is… any suggestions?”
“Why don’t we make it the 506 at the point it crosses our perimeter on the east?” Mac offered.
“Great!” I replied. “Okay, I’ll be accompanying Two Six. Anything we missed?”
“Yes, sir,” the Bull said, turning his attention to the others. “When you gentlemen return to your platoons— and this is just a reminder, sirs—make sure your people tape and tie weapons and LBE for silent movement. Don’t want any clang, clang on the 506 in the morning.”
“What about immediate action in an ambush… uh… I mean if we should get hit from the flank, sir?” Bill Norwalk asked. “‘Course, like you all say, that’s not gonna happen. But just in case something like that should happen, what’s the procedure? Same as in daylight? Mean, charge it if it’s near, go for cover if it’s far?”
“Uh… right.” I said, mentally kicking myself for not thinking of so obvious a contingency. Bill Norwalk has his head screwed on tighter than I do tonight.
“Good point, Bill,” MacCarty said, “but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I think a greater concern is a meeting engagement, you know, just running into Charlie going the other way. ‘Cause, like the Six says, it’s his road at night.”
“And that’s a good point, Mac,” I said, rebounding.
“Wich reminds me—and ‘course it’s your platoon—who’s gonna be our point?”
He smiled and said, “Shit, sir, you know damn well who—Wester.”
As planned, we left the NDP’s perimeter at three o’clock in the morning, Wester and his bronze plate- embedded twelve-gauge shotgun leading the formation, followed by his squad leader and a two-man M-60 machine-gun team, Mac and his RTO, and me and mine. It was pleasantly cool and very dark. The column moved east along Route 506 for an hour or so—silently, speedily, professionally. There was no cussing, clanging, banging, jingling, or needless whispering. They’re good, I thought to myself, moving as infantrymen are supposed to move in the still of night in Indian country.
Abruptly we halted. Mac moved forward, passing his machine-gun team as he did so. I waited in place for a few moments, then, telling Blair and Andy to stand fast, followed after him. I found him twenty-five to thirty meters forward of the column, huddled with Wester and Sergeant Baker, the lead squad’s squad leader.
