'Ed, it's not that I don't trust them. It's just that I do not believe that they can be objective about this anymore. They, like the CIA, got caught short by the fight around Monterrey and active participation by the Nicaraguans.
Between trying to explain away their failures by justifying their initial positions and scrambling to make the current battle plan work, everyone in Washington has lost sight of the long-term goal, national security. I need solutions, real solutions, not fixes. And before I can come up with those solutions, I need some solid, unvarnished information.'
Leaning forward toward Lewis, the president looked into his eyes while he rested his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together, almost as if he were begging. 'Ed, will you go?'
For a moment, Lewis considered the president's offer. What a great way, he thought, of getting an opponent out of the way. Was the president, he thought, using the old adage that it was better to make friends rather than multiply enemies? Was he buying time, in the hope that by sending Lewis to Mexico he could appease his critics and hope that the Mexican government would buckle under? Or was the president sincere?
Was he really seeking a real solution? 'Who, Mr. President, are you sending with me, whom do I answer to, and what restrictions are there on my comings and goings down in Mexico?'
The president opened his hands. 'You may take whomever you like, you report back to me when you are ready, and you will have a free hand to go wherever you want and speak to whomever you feel you need to talk to. You have a free hand.'
That, Lewis thought, was inviting. Turning the idea over in his mind as he took a long sip of coffee, he decided to press for more. After all, if he was going to become involved, he wanted to be part of the solution, to do something meaningful, and not just become a storefront dummy. He looked down at his cup. 'If that reporter, Jan Fields, is to be believed, we have not done all we could to reach an understanding and appreciation of the situation that the Council of 13 is dealing with.' With a glance over to Hasten, Lewis continued. 'It says a lot when a foreign government is forced to use a TV correspondent as a means of passing messages to us.' As Hasten struggled to contain his anger at the slap Lewis had given him, Lewis turned to the president. 'Any solution will need to involve the Mexicans. Unilateral action, as we have seen, is a noncontender.
Therefore, if I go to Mexico, I want to have the ability to travel to Mexico City, with this Jan Fields, and open a dialogue with the Council of 13 on your behalf.'
As if he had already considered that request, the president responded without even bothering to look over to Hastert. 'That, Ed, is more than what I had in mind, but you're right.' The president eased himself back into his seat. Though he didn't like the idea of Lewis, trailed by a high-speed correspondent like Fields, running around in Mexico City, the president decided that he had little choice. He had, in fact, decided before Lewis had arrived to accept JHSt about whatever Lewis asked, since, as he had put it so eloquently, there would be pain involved no matter what the president did. 'You are right. We were, in fact, discussing just how best to respond to the council's message when you arrived. You, if you would be so kind, can carry my personal message back to the Mexican government.
When can you leave?'
'Will tonight be soon enough?'
'Tonight will be just fine. Besides making the necessary arrangements and coordination, is there anything else I can do to help you?'
Lewis was about to say no, but,changed his mind. 'Yes, Mr. President, there is. Could I have another cup of coffee?'
Officially referred to as an operational pause, the order to halt all offensive operations and avoid contact with Mexican forces came as no surprise to Big Al and Scott Dixon. It was, Big Al dryly commented, about time that someone in Washington took note of the fact that maybe the Mexicans had different ideas about the presence of U.S. forces in Mexico.
Still, the cost of the battle of Monterrey, and the sudden reversal of government policy immediately after, put Big Al, and all American commanders in the field, in a difficult position.
Too much hype about their own capabilities and too little regard for that of the Mexicans hadn't prepared the American soldiers going into Mexico for the kind of war that they now faced. They were willing, one soldier told a reporter, to do their jobs. All they asked for, he went on, 'was for someone to tell us the truth, for a change.' Unfortunately, with 'the truth' changing almost by the hour, there was little that Big Al and other commanders like him could do. Every new directive, every new change in policy, evoked the same response from him: 'It's Vietnam all over again.' He did what he could, and asked the soldiers in his command to bear with him.
One thing that he could do was protect his force, deploying it in such a manner that it could protect itself without leaving any elements exposed to unnecessary risk. With the 16th Armored Division spread out like it was, this would be no simple task. As the ambush on the division's own CP, and numerous other attacks throughout the division's rear areas, showed that, while the Mexicans might have given ground, they had conceded nothing.
As part of the reshuffling of forces into a defensive posture, the 3rd Brigade was ordered to release the 2nd of the 13th Infantry, which, in turn, reverted back to division control as a reserve. Because the threat from small, lightly armed raiding parties in the rear areas was greater than that of a major attack by Mexican forces, it was decided to disperse elements of 2nd of the 13th to various rear-area facilities in an effort to discourage raids.
Though many would like to believe otherwise, the influence that egos and politics have in the decision-making process is, at times, just as important in troop units as it is in Washington. The manner in which 2nd Platoon, A Company, 2nd of the 13th, found its way to the division CP to provide security is an example. When Major Tod McQuirer, the operations officer of 2nd of the 13th, was informed that they were going to be tasked to provide a platoon to the division CP for security, he saw an opportunity to help out his friend and drinking buddy, the commander of A Company.
Calling Wittworth to the battalion CP, McQuirer discussed the matter with him.
'Stan, we just got a tasking from brigade to detach one platoon to go back to the division CP in order to provide security for them.' With a knowing smile, he looked Wittworth in the eyes. 'Do you think you could help?'
Seeing an opportunity to rid himself of the 2nd Platoon and its platoon leader, Second Lieutenant N. Kozak, Wittworth said, 'Sure. Though it will be hard, I think I can spare 2nd Platoon.'
Though McQuirer knew that Wittworth was full of shit, he played along for the benefit of the officers and NCOs in the CP who just might overhear the conversation. Ever since Kozak had changed her statement about the September 7 incident, Wittworth had been looking for a way to get rid of her. The second statement had not only put Wittworth on the spot, her change of mind had shown that she didn't have the slightest thought of loyalty for him, her commander. McQuirer had agreed, especially after Witt worth showed him the part that stated her orders 'were not clear and did not appear to consider the situation at our location.' That had been enough. Unfortunately for Wittworth, she went on to state, 'Despite repeated efforts to advise my commander of the nature of the situation, he simply repeated his initial order.' The second statement resulted in Kozak's being exonerated and earned him a written reprimand. McQuirer hadn't helped Wittworth's state of mind by telling him that, if Kozak had been an ordinary infantry officer — i.e., a male — the second statement would never have been accepted.
As bad as that incident had been, it didn't even compare to what had happened outside of Monterrey on the twelfth of September. Her disrespectful manner to him on an open radio net that was being monitored not only by every leader in Company A, but also by the battalion commander, had been bad enough. That the battalion commander not only had ignored Kozak's snide comment, but had congratulated her, then and a second time after the battle, made'it worse. When, on the thirteenth of September, Wittworth went to see the battalion commander to protest, he was again reprimanded for his conduct and, this time, for his pettiness.
Kozak, Wittworth knew, had to go.
With a wink, McQuirer discounted Wittworth's feigned concern. 'Well, I'm really sorry to hit you up like this, but I'm afraid you'll just have to make due with two platoons.' So that it appeared to be a choice based on sound logic, rather than hurt egos, McQuirer explained his 'official' reasoning. 'Since your 2nd Platoon is short a platoon sergeant, and the Bradley that the platoon sergeant had been on has lost its fire-control system, they are the least combat-ready platoon. Back at the division CP, the platoon sergeant and damaged Bradley won't be missed.'
Making a show of it, Wittworth sighed. 'Well, sir, you're right. I guess I have no choice. When do they
