Duty Recall Read online

Page 7


  “Open your trunk, please,” he demanded politely, with a smile.

  David obliged and stepped away, trying not to lose his balance. The young blond man glanced inside briefly and then looked over at him. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, I believe so, thank you.”

  “You can go,” he said with a wry smile. “Are you sure you are alright?”

  “Yes.”

  “Be careful then,” he finished as he shut the trunk of David's Opel Manta without looking through it.

  “Thanks.” David said with relief, hoping that they would offer him a ride to his military housing.

  Instead, driving a bit wildly through the streets of West Berlin, David prayed all the way, until his wheels screeched to a halt in the complex driveway. “Thank God!”

  Several meetings took place after the first one and then continued even after David left the Army in 1987 to attend college. The MI Branch had to “hand-off” David to the FBI since he was no longer in their jurisdiction. David then met with an FBI agent, introduced as Bill, for the next three years before he re-entered the Army as a Military Intelligence Officer.

  * * *

  David assured Sherry about the meeting with Ray and Stan coming up after so many years.

  “I think they just want to catch up and tell me that the operation is officially over and then wish me good luck.”

  “I hope that's all it is and I hope that it really is over.”

  “I can't think of anything else they might want from me.”

  David knew from the past that this was the case, that they would officially seal the record on that operation, for the last time. The Russian's left Berlin after the wall came down and took everything with them that belong to them. David never heard back from his Soviet friend since he last visited him in East Berlin in December of 1987.

  Now, David could not help but to wonder why the intelligence community called him out of the blue and requested a meeting. Secretly, he pondered the idea of divulging some of his knowledge and insight about upcoming events without drawing suspicion from them or the Human Intelligence community that they represented. He would have to create his words carefully if he did decide to open up the Pandora's box.

  David found the Magnolia Inn and went straight to room 112, the number given him in a coded message from another phone call. He remembered that when discussing sporting events, the score would have significant bearing on the meeting place, such as when he heard the voice on the other end of the second phone call ask, “Did you catch the Knicks game last night? They won 112-99.” Had they lost 112-99, it would mean that he was to meet in room 99. This system worked before.

  David walked to the room quickly, trying to keep a low profile before striking his fist against the door with three raps, a pause, followed by two more raps. Ray let him in quickly, while peering over David's shoulder.

  “Good to see you again,” Stan said while extending his hand towards David.

  “Yes, it's been a while,” David answered.

  Ray extended his hand as well. “Good to see you again.”

  “How are you?” David responded.

  “Good, thanks. Please have a seat.”

  There was small talk exchanged for a few minutes, then, as remembered, Ray explained that the old Cold war operations would officially end. David even mentioned the fact that he agreed and that the Soviets would probably pull their troops out of Poland by the fall. The two HUMINT officers exchanged glances and chuckled.

  Ray also reminded David about consequences of disclosing information concerning the operation or even acknowledging that such interaction even existed. David understood and he signed a form that Ray had prepared in advance. It seemed to David that the two wanted a quick and clean break and then wanted to move on to other things. Before David left the room, he hesitated.

  “What do you guys think about the operations in Somalia?”

  “We don't have anything to do with it, why?”

  “Just wondering. For the record, I believe that our forces are up against a lot more than the word on the street.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I believe that General Aideed is more than a warlord. He has urban guerilla warfare training behind him and a large protective force.”

  “How do you know about General Aideed?” Stan asked.

  “Just reading reports. I am an intel officer, remember?”

  It was Ray's turn now. “What makes you think he is more than just a ragtag warlord?”

  “Reading the reports. I was the two with 8th PSYOP, and the Middle East was our region.

  “Well, we're not involved but your observation is noted,” Stan answered as they stood to see David out the door.

  David went back home, wondering if there was anything else he could have done to save American soldiers from disastrous decision-making. Sadly, the operations conducted by the U.S. army Rangers and Delta Force troops in Somalia unfolded just the way David remembered they would. The US intervention in Somalia went from a mercy mission to disaster. On October 3rd, more than 500 Somalis, many of them women and children, were killed or injured in fighting involving American troops, in which 17 American soldiers were killed, and at least one captured. To make matters worse, the dead Americans were drug through the streets of Mogadishu.

  The American casualties eventually forced President Bill Clinton to set a withdrawal date for US forces. The warlord, General Mohamed Farah Aideed, proved to have led a disciplined force of urban guerrillas. The elite Ranger forces of the US were caught in a well-orchestrated ambush and suffered a high rate of casualties.

  The results of the failed attempt were seen by the American public on television with the image of Chief Warrant Officer Mike Durant, the captured helicopter pilot, lying bloodied and frightened. In addition, the images brought Robert Oakley, President Clinton's envoy, to Mogadishu to secure the release of Durant and begin the slow withdrawal from Somalia.

  David knew that these events would have grave consequences for US forces for years to come. He was also aware of the group called Al-Qaeda, led by Osama Bin-Laden, that would become embolden by the withdrawal of the UN and US forces from that region. The trouble was, at least for the moment, who he could get to believe in him?

  8. Promotion and Advancement

  As 1993 ended and 1994 began, David thought about the present course. So far, everything was going according to his recollection of daily events. Sherry withdrew the kids from the Fort Bragg school to homeschool them after a run-in with the principal and board. This was due to the principal's insistence that the Presidential fitness program be replaced with organized line dancing, one being the “Push-Tush.”

  David knew that it would be a career stopper to go down and slug the principal in the nose for trying to force some sort of perverted dance on a nine-year-old. After going through the school board that included a full Colonel to no avail, David and Sherry made the decision together to homeschool.

  “They acted like nothing was wrong!” Sherry spat angrily.

  Robby started playing basketball at the MWR, which formed leagues for military kids. Jenny joined the gymnastic program, and David's job was as mundane as he remembered in the Executive officer position. The new Battalion commander, LTC Barrett, even had plans for him to move from Charley Company to the Battalion level as his S-1, staff administrative officer.

  Everything was moving along the same way except for a few notable differences. For one, he possessed a lot more money in his current state than he ever had before. A lot more. He also was more aware of the future events that would eventually take place.

  More extravagant overnight hotel stays displayed the visible elements of the larger income with Sherry. She also beautifully displayed the latest expensive fashion wear that David had not seen the first time around in life.

  Then there were the two new vehicles; one of them being a 1993 Dodge minivan that Sherry insisted she still needed to haul the kids around town. The other, Da
vid settled for a new 1993 Dodge Stealth, blue, 2-door ES hatchback. It looked sleek enough without appearing too elaborate for his own good and drawing undue attention on himself. He explained that he got a better deal by purchasing both vehicles as a package.

  There was one incident that took place in David's previous visit in 1993 that he wanted to avoid altogether. He remembered that the following morning after purchasing the new vehicles, he drove his normal route to the unit's morning physical training (PT) formation.

  It was still dark and rainy. When he pulled out of the side street onto a main highway, he drove right in front of an Army Deuce-and-half truck that did not have its headlights working. David did not sustain any injuries, thanks primarily to the newly equipped airbags and metal reinforcement structure of the van, but the minivan was totaled.

  David did not remember the exact day that he purchased the new van or the following day when he would have that near fatal crash, but he remembered it was in December and on a rainy morning.

  So, on this second 1993 go-around, David left earlier than normal and took a different route. There was no incident. However, when he sirens in the background towards the area where the crash had occurred in his past life, he felt uneasy. Then the unimaginable followed.

  “Did you see the condition of that motorcycle that the Duece ran over?” SGT Morales asked SGT Redford.

  “Sure did. No way the guy on the bike survived that.”

  “Someone said the Duece didn't have headlights.”

  “Those guys are toast.”

  David interrupted them. “Where did this happen?”

  “Over there where Normandy dumps into Longfellow, sir. I thought you came that way, sir. You didn't see anything?”

  “Different route today.”

  David felt conflicting emotions. One the one hand was relief that he was able to avoid the tragedy and on the other hand, there was a sickening realization that his decision may have cost somebody their life.

  “Anyone know who he was?”

  “No sir. Not anyone we know. Probably some guy from the 82nd.”

  David walked away. Some guy. Some guy who probably had a wife and kids like me, he thought.

  During the next two days, David made an attempt by asking around his neighborhood and reading the Fayetteville Observer if he could find out any facts about the soldier from the 82nd. He learned with little relief that the cyclist was an Army Captain from the 82nd but was not married and had no children. He lived off post in an apartment with another junior officer from the 82nd.

  At least he didn't leave behind a wife and kids, David thought to himself. Jeff found the article mentioning the accident and that Captain Jeff Sellers was survived by his parents, a brother, and two sisters.

  Sherry sensed David's disturbance and was touched by the fact that he cared so much about a stranger. “Must be close to home since he was an airborne officer like you and crashed close to where you guys do PT.”

  “Yeah, a lot of our guys saw it happen.” David did not want to pursue the conversation any further. He had to move on. He would continually be alert to such matters, but he had to move on.

  * * *

  David, Sherry, and the kids continued with their plans to travel to Venice, Florida, where his grandmother, a widow of four years, was living. They would spend Christmas with her, enjoy the heated pool at the mobile home park, and test the waters of the Gulf coast, even though David knew by experience that it would be too chilly to enjoy a good swim.

  “We'll even stop at Disney World,” David promised, “and watch the Christmas parade and fireworks!”

  “Yeaaaa!” Robby and Jenny both expressed their pleasure.

  Sherry smiled contently, looking forward to sometime in Florida as well.

  * * *

  First Sergeant Mack stood at the rear of the tent listening to the ongoing droning of staff officers give their evening brief to LTC Barrett. First Lieutenant Allan just completed his portion on administrative and personnel matters and walked to the rear, taking a position next to Mack.

  The First Sergeant leaned over to David. “Hey sir, want to jump next Wednesday? We have some extra chutes.”

  David shook his head, “No thanks, top. I'm jumping next Friday when my dad's in town so he can watch.”

  “You can jump on both days if you want to sir.”

  “See if anybody needs to jump as a pay hurt.”

  “Yeah, I did that already, sir.” But hey, I won't force you. Somebody will go for it.”

  “Thanks anyway, top!”

  David's attention to the briefing suddenly became distracted. It was as if he saw a ghost. It suddenly dawned on him that something horrible was about to take place.

  “Top, cancel the jump.”

  “Sir? What are you talking about? We're not running it, the 82nd is. We've been given some chutes.”

  “Get with them…the ones in charge, I mean, and tell them to cancel it.”

  “Now why would I want to do that, sir?”

  “Because there will…” David stopped talking, hesitated and began again. “Just a hunch, top, that's all. I have a bad feeling about this one.”

  “Riiight, sir.” First Sergeant Mack turned his head towards the front of the room to hear the brief. Slowly, he glanced back at David who did not know what else to say. David lowered his head.

  When Wednesday came around, David was at a Battalion Staff meeting. It was on the twenty-third of March, and David looked ill.

  “Are you alright Lieutenant Allan?” LTC Barrett asked.

  “Maybe just a touch of something, sir. I'll be okay.”

  “You don't look so well.”

  “I'll be fine, sir.”

  The meeting continued until Command Sergeant Major Clancy burst into the room. “There's been an accident at green ramp and there are lots of casualties!”

  LTC Barrett dismissed the meeting immediately. “Let's go, Sergeant Major.”

  The two of them got into a waiting Humvee and sped off. David walked out of the building along with the other officers, all of whom stopped just outside the doorway to see the thick black smoke rise from the “Green Ramp” area, which was the large ramp at the west end of Pope AFB's east-west runway, used by the U.S. Army and Air Force to stage airborne operations.

  A large open-bay building, called the “pax” shed, was located at Green Ramp. It was designed for numerous passengers and used for preparing troops for parachute drops. A large grassy area was just outside the building and was used for a troop staging area before drops. Behind the area, several concrete mock-ups of Air Force cargo aircraft had been constructed, where troops could rehearse their drop procedures.

  David had no idea how many paratroopers were to jump that day, he could not remember. He would find out later that about 500 paratroopers were in the pax shed and the concrete mock-ups in the grassy area.

  While the jumpers prepared to board several C-130s and C-141 aircraft parked on the tarmac, F-16's, A-10's and C-130's filled the sky, conducting Air Force training. David remembered that a mid-air collision between an F-16 aircraft and a C-130 Hercules started the disastrous domino effect.

  Both aircraft were on short final approach to runway 23 at an altitude of about 300 feet when the nose of the F-16 severed the C-130's right elevator. On impact, the F-16 pilot applied full afterburner to try to recover the aircraft, but the aircraft began to disintegrate, showering debris on the runway and the surrounding area. Both F-16 crewmembers ejected, but their aircraft, still on full afterburner, continued on an arc towards Green Ramp. The F-16 struck the ground in an empty parking place between two Air Force C-130s with crews on board preparing the aircraft for departure.

  When the F-16 hit the ground, its momentum carried the wreckage westward through the right wing of a C-141 parked on the ramp. The C-141 crew was also preparing the aircraft for joint Army-Air Force operations. Fortunately, the jet was not filled with paratroopers.

  The wreckage of the F-16 punctured
the fuel tanks in the C-141's right wing, causing a large fireball, which combined with the F-16 wreckage, continued on a path taking it between Building 900 and the Pax Shed, directly into the area where the mass of Army paratroopers were sitting and standing.

  Sirens wailed in the background, heading in both directions from David's nearby office. SPC Harris, his administrative assistant waited around with David, and although shaken by the events, she seemed to be holding out well. It was a somber moment.

  “SPC Harris, I'm not sure how much longer LTC Barrett or the Sergeant Major will be before they return but we'll be quite busy in the next few days.”

  “Yes sir, I'm here if you need me for anything.”

  “I'm thinking some extra hours may be involved.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Around 1700 David sent SPC Harris home. “Come on in about 30 minutes earlier than usual tomorrow.”

  “Alright sir.”

  “Good-night.”

  “Good-night sir. See you tomorrow.”

  A little more than an hour later, LTC Barrett and CSM Clancy returned. David met them in the lobby, just outside the colonel's office. He did not say anything but followed closely behind his boss.

  “What a nightmarish hell that was! I never have seen anything like it before in my life!”

  “Sir, are you alright?”

  “Not really, David. Not really. My guess is that more than twenty soldiers lost their lives with hundreds more injured, many with burn injuries!”

  David swallowed hard but remained silent.

  “Some of our soldiers who were waiting to jump pulled troopers from the flames and exploding ammunition. Heroes! That is what they were. Heroes! We commandeered military and civilian vehicles to ferry the injured to Womack.”

  “Sounds like a real mess, sir.”

  “Where's SPC Harris?”

  “I sent her home, sir.”

  “Okay, I'll need both of you here early in the morning. We're going to process a lot of awards for our heroes!”

  “Yes sir, I instructed SPC Harris to come in early.”

  “Good. Go ahead on home. We'll start first thing in the morning.”