Convinced his team needed a helping hand, Alpha’s commander ordered his radio man to call in for air support on his SINCGARS radio, which automatically began transmitting the team’s location to a GSS satellite receiver. Within minutes, a quartet of OH58-Delta Kiowa Warriors launched from the deck of the USS
The formation of four F-15E Strike Eagles had flown non-stop from Mountain Home AFB in Idaho in two four-ship formations, accompanied by a group of two F-16C Fighting Falcons, and two F-15C Eagle fighters as escorts. The Strike Eagles were armed with a full combat load of laser-guided bombs, AGM-154A JSOW guided cluster bomb dispensers, LANTIRN targeting pods, and air-to-air missiles. In addition to carrying their own mix of air-to-air ordnance, the Fighting Falcons each bore a pair of HARM anti-radiation missiles and a sensor pod for targeting them. Their mission had been planned in precise detail and was highly specific: They were to level a Guatemalan army headquarters located about five klicks southwest of the nation’s capital. At the same time, other strike groups would be taking out a host of designated military installations in and around Guatemala City, as well as Army and Naval bases throughout the country. Airstrips, leadership targets, and communications centers were the prime focus of these operations, and a painstaking effort had been made to keep collateral property damage and civilian casualties to a minimum.
Jinking to elude the light flak coming from below, the lead aircraft’s pilot lined up the rooftop of the headquarters building in his HUD, monitoring the various readouts superimposed over the display’s infrared image. The weapons systems officer in the backseat had already activated the LANTIRN pod to range and lock on the target. All that remained now was for the pilot to release his ordnance. Ten seconds later he dropped bombs in two rapid salvos. The headquarters building went up in a rapidly unfolding blossom of flame that could be seen as far as thirty miles away in bright, broad daylight. Mission accomplished.
Within a matter of hours, the Guatemalan forces in Belize had either surrendered or were in full retreat, headed west for the border. In fact, the biggest problem that the Allied forces were having was keeping up, so rapid was the retreat of the invaders for home. The Guatemalan Army had never had much stomach for this adventure, and the overwhelming show of strength had broken them immediately. Already, the port and airfield facilities were pouring forth a torrent of follow-on forces that were being flown in. At the same time, the Belizean government had been liberated by units of the Army Delta Force, which had flown their AH-6 “Little Bird” helicopters to the Government House from the rear deck of the USS
The riots had been going on for days. General Hidalgo Guzman sat behind a broad oak desk in his executive office, the blinds drawn over the windows overlooking the square, the windows themselves tightly shut to dampen the angry clamor below.
Then the airborne invasion had come, and his cousin, Eduardo Alcazar, had advised him to declare an unconditional cease-fire with the Americans and begin his withdrawal from Belize. Guillardo had advised against it, stating that favorable terms might yet be negotiated. Now both men were dead, having perished together in a bombing that had killed three other members of Guzman’s junta as well. They were dead, and much of Guatemala City was in ruins from the burning and looting that had followed the air strikes, and the mob outside blamed him for the destruction. Blamed him for the casualties the armed forces had suffered. Blamed him for the political isolation into which his country had fallen.
He could hear them in the plaza, shouting up at him, cursing his very name, demanding that he resign as President. But for a few loyal guard units, the army had joined their rebellion. He could hear them, yes. Their voices loud through the windows, so deafeningly, maddeningly loud out there in the plaza. It was only a matter of time before they came for him. His surviving Cabinet Ministers had fled the capital, advising him to join them, to remain in a hideaway until a means could be found to exit the country.
Guzman looked at the gun on his desk blotter and reached for it. Outside, he could hear the mob. He was no rodent. Not a lowly, fearful creature that would burrow down into a hole in the ground. He could now hear the mob calling for him, crying out for his blood. He would not cower.
And then, taking a long, deep breath, Guzman reached for the pistol, shoved its barrel against the bottom of his jaw, and pulled the trigger, blowing the contents of his head all over the office walls.
The celebration had been going on for days. Out on the wide front steps of the capital building, Prime Minister Hawkins was dancing with a pretty little girl who had leapt out of the crowd to hand him a bright red flower. He put the stem behind his ear and laughed, and she giggled, and both clapped their hands. Behind her on the street, her older sister was talking to a paratrooper with an 82nd Airborne patch on his shoulder; a band was playing raucous salsa music; and people were waving banners, many emblazoned with the word LIBERDAD, many more covered with praises to the American and British soldiers who had ousted the Guatemalans from their nation.
Freedom, Hawkins thought, his smile beaming out at the festive citizens. Freedom, it was glorious, wasn’t it? Absolutely, immeasurably glorious.
Conclusion
As I close this volume in my series of guided tours of military units, it is hard not to feel that series been given a special gift with this look at the 82nd Airborne Division. With the possible exception of the U.S. Marine Corps, no other military formation of any real size in the world today combines both the spirit of the offensive and the strategic mobility of the 82nd. It is these qualities, as well as their year-round readiness for any mission with which they may be tasked, that make the 82nd so valuable in the minds of Presidents and their staffs. These same virtues make them both revered by our allies, as well as feared and reviled by our enemies. This is quite a range of emotions to be generated by a community of only around 20,000 Army personnel. But then again, if several thousand of them can arrive on top of your most valuable military installation within thirty-six hours of you offending the sensibilities of an American President, well then perhaps the reputation is well deserved.
Today, as the airborne forces of the U.S. Army enter their sixth decade of service to the nation, they are uniquely placed for service as the world enters a new millennium. Their mobility and speed make them ideal for the fast-breaking crisis situations that have been becoming the norm in the post-Cold War environment that we have been stumbling through for the last few years. More important, the personnel of the 82nd Airborne possess a unique adaptability, which allows them to rapidly adjust to new equipment, tactics, and situations. Their motto of, “… All the Way!” is more than just a boastful yell. It is a heritage that they have proven in combat, and paid for in the blood of fallen paratroops from the dusty hills of Sicily, to the hedgerows and polder country of Northwest Europe, to the sands of the Persian Gulf. This is why the Army trusts the 82nd to wring out some of their newest systems like the new Javelin anti-tank missile. The leadership knows that the 82nd will get the most from it, and show the rest of the soldiers in the Army how to use it in the best possible way. They also know that when things in a crisis situation fail to go according to plan, airborne troopers will make the most of a bad situation. These facts alone
