This story is based on actual events but altered to protect the innocent and national security

Para Las Tres Cruces

Military Fiction

 A Nonymous

The jungles of Central America hold a special affinity for the special operations soldier.  Years of incursions from Honduras into neighboring countries such as Nicaragua, El Salvador and Panama are a testament to the success of covert missions designed to pick up where diplomacy fell short.  On one such mission we find a company of airborne operators slogging through the double and triple canopy "rain forest" of Panama.  It is about 4 weeks after a jump onto Tocumen Airfield and the commencement of Operation Just Cause.  The company of highly motivated killers is on the prowl for remnants of rag-tag Panamanian Defense Forces and irregulars of Manuel Noriega’s Dignity Battalions. 

In fact, it is shortly after the pockmarked potentate surrendered himself to American soldiers to the strains of Guns & Roses’ "Welcome to the Jungle" and Metallica’s "Kill Them All".  It seems the little Hitler couldn’t stand the intense "torture" of heavy metal rock ‘n roll played from the amplified speakers of the units surrounding the Catholic Monastery he fled to while he tried to negotiate a way out of his impending capture.  It’s strange how tyrants find the ordinary intolerable, yet are able to inflict exacting torment on helpless populations. 

The company broke through a thinning piece of forest.  The local guide returned from a recon patrol of 3, tasked with scouting the objective for the day: the liberation of a small village under the control of a very nasty thug in the local "Dignity Battalion," one Roberto "Rojo" Montez (the nickname rojo or red stands for the blood of his victims).

"Captain Jones, you’re not going to like what we’re going to see in the village," the guide intoned. 

"Is it hot?" Jones asks. 

"It does not appear so, but it’s not very pleasant."

"Sergeant Mosconi?" 

Sergeant (E5) Antonio Mosconi is the type of field soldier legends are made of.  A highly decorated veteran of Grenada, Central America and sub-Saharan Africa, SGT Mosconi had a keen battle sense tempered by a healthy appetite for willing females and Scotch Whiskey.  The latter restricting his ability to capitalize on the former.  Mosconi had risen to the rank of E7 twice only to get busted down to E4 and E5 for his peacetime transgressions. 

Mosconi replies, "It reminds me a lot of that little Salvadoran incident, Gunfighter."

Jones has had experience running combat patrols in a certain neighboring country as a young lieutenant in one of America’s elite Ranger Battalions.  Back then it was easier.  He was an idealistic platoon leader bringing support to friendly elements fighting the red dogs of communism in Central and South America.  The company patrol base was a veritable Spartan paradise with which the Ranger patrols would gratefully return after completing their assigned purposes.  Back then a good guide was worth his weight in ice-cold cerveza.  Javier Rodriguez, Jones’ current scout, was worth his weight in hot women and cold beer.  That, and SGT Mosconi’s battle-sense, were enough for Jones to make a decision.  He turned to his RTO and said, "Send up the Wild Carrot."

The RTO complied and within seconds the massive 6’ 4" frame of one redheaded 2d Lieutenant Peter Moore was standing before Jones.

"Pete, Mosconi’s patrol’s ID’d a bad situation in our village.  It’s not hot, but something isn’t quite right either.  I’m fragging your platoon as the main effort in a cordon & search on the village.  Give your Platoon Sergeant a warning order for this mission and get back here in 15 minutes for the full frag-order with the other platoon leaders."

"Hooah, Skipper." The Wild Carrot moved out smartly.

As the Carrot went to brief his PSG, Captain Jones’ HQ element set up a hasty Command Post.  The company began its movement into a roughly triangular position designed to maximize firepower and protection during its brief halt in the jungle.  Javier moved to Jones’ driver who doubles as the terrain model technician and began to create a mock up of the village and surrounding area on the jungle floor.  The Company’s 1^st Sergeant, 1SG Ken "the Torch" Thurman, checked the condition of his NCOs and they in turn checked the condition of their enlisted men. Well within the 15 minutes allotted, the CP was ready to host its frag-order.

The 2d Platoon Leader, Wild Carrot Moore was the first to arrive.  His gung-ho attitude and enthusiasm to accomplish the mission was hidden deep within his boyish 22 year-old features.  Wild Carrot was a recent recycle graduate of Ranger School who had to sit out the last week of desert phase due to snakebite injury. The Physician’s Assistant had been adamant that the young lieutenant was in no condition to recycle the phase and would have been sent out of Ranger School without the coveted Black & Gold Tab – until the Carrot stood tall and "persuaded" the PA to allow him to recover on-site.  This singular incident not only allowed Moore to earn his Ranger Tab, it also created the moniker "Wild Carrot" as a testament to the deep shade of red his face took on when aroused and how it faded in to his red stubble on his head.

1^st and 3^rd Platoon Leaders arrived at about the same time.  1^st PL, 2d Lieutenant Phil Smitt was the newest officer in the company and had only been with the command about a week before the jump on to Tocumen.  A very slight limp and the strain of being in the deep shit meant that the jury was still out on 2LT Phil Smitt.  3^rd PL, 1^st Lieutenant "Terrible" Tom Sullivan was the type of sadist West Point Plebes learned to avoid early into their education at the Military Academy.  Universally loathed by his peers and subordinates alike, Terrible Tom could be counted on to strike hard, fast and with utter ruthlessness at his many enemies.  Fortunately for all, Panama was providing ample enemies for the time being.  The Company 2IC (second in command or XO), 1LT Karl Volkner hailed from a long line of hardcore Prussian officers.  The last being a decorated Hitler Youth Leader who managed to escape a Soviet prison camp in Georgia after the 2^nd World War – Claus Volkner quickly volunteered for the fledgling American Special Operations community and retired a Chief Warrant Officer 4, adding just about every combat award available to his Iron Cross 1^st Class.  1LT Karl "the Enforcer" Volkner was a soldier’s soldier.  With his Prussian pedigree, West Point preparation and utter dedication to the Martial Way, the Enforcer is destined for flag rank.  The only man the Enforcer respected as much as his father stepped up to the terrain model.

CPT Alexander "the Gunfighter" Jones surveyed his assembled officers and men.  His gaze rested on each man in turn for a brief second.  He liked what he saw, even Smitt looked more and more like a combat leader. 

"This frag-order will now commence," Jones announced.  "Friendly Forces have not changed and we have been in the field for 8 days enroute to our objective: the village of Tres Cruces.  SGT Mosconi, back from his recon of the village, will update us on the Enemy Forces.  SGT Mosconi."

SGT Mosconi stepped to the plate. 

"Yes sir. The village appears deserted. There are 27 thatch huts set up along a trail that runs northeast to southwest.  We caught a glimpse of three crosses setup in the village square and what looked like buzzards circling overhead.  Rodriguez and me got down to about 20 meters of the village; but couldn’t get closer or we would have been compromised.  Indications are about 50-60 armed men moved through the village within the last couple of days.  The village is about 2 & ½ clicks from here along a route we marked."

The Gunfighter interjected at this point, "Give the map overlays out."

The RTO and driver passed out the transparencies quickly.

"Orient your maps with the terrain model," Jones modulated.

The Gunfighter always enjoyed the Operations Order briefings he conducted. His appreciation for the operational Art of War seemed to build with each passing sentence and would ultimately climax in a sexual crescendo of violence known as Combined Arms Combat once the plan went into execution phase.

"Mission: Charlie Company conducts a cordon & search of Tres Cruces to secure the village and effect link up with American friendly leadership 0700 hours 18 Jan 1990.  2d platoon you are the main effort and will conduct an area search of the village working your way along the trail from southwest to northeast.  1^st platoon you will cordon the Area of Operations and occupy support positions from 7 o’clock to 12 o’clock.  Priority of fires of crew served weapons to securing the area with a contingency to provide fire support to 2d platoon.  3^rd platoon you will occupy positions 12 o’clock to 5 o’clock and cordon that sector of the AO.  Priority of fires same as 1^st platoon.  LT Sullivan, be prepared to provide a 2-squad element to assist 2d platoon in its search.  Coordinate signals for that contingency and brief me back during key leader brief backs.  HQ element will occupy 6 o’clock in conjunction with the 60mm mortar section.  Mortars will be on weapons tight within the village and loose in support of securing the AO.  Key times: 0500 stand to, 0630 occupation of the objective rally point, 0700 village search begins. Priorities of work: platoon leaders brief back in 1 hour, platoon opords, reduced force rehearsals, maintenance and rest.  50% security will be maintained at all times.  Crew served weapons will be manned at all times.  Key leader recon in 2 hours.  Key leader rehearsals in 4 hours.  It is 1058 hours, what are your questions?"

The Enforcer spoke up, "Is this our tactical assembly area for the operation?"

"Yes.  Hasty fighting positions will be dug and key leaders will inspect crew served weapons.  Other questions."

1SG Thurman took on an air of formality and requested, "I would appreciate seeing all the Platoon Sergeants at 1800 hours, please." The Torch was well known for his attention to detail in making sure each PSG had the ability to provide oversight and advice should his lieutenant try to earn the Congressional. This small act had paid big dividends over the years in lives saved and young officer careers salvaged.

The Gunfighter finalized the moment.  "This frag-order is complete, the terrain model will be kept up until midnight for your use.  Go take care of the troops."

LT Smitt remained behind and walked up to the CO.  "CPT Jones, I know we all rely heavily on our SOPs for these missions…I…"

"Listen Phil, you’re doing a good job for a wet nosed 2LT on his first real world mission.  Don’t try to memorize every possible SOP in our handbook.  Refer to it instead and watch your Platoon Sergeant.  John Wilson is a helluva PSG and I can’t think of anyone better as your back up.  Don’t be afraid to seek his advice and council.  Now what I expect from you is what we pay you for: brief your men, rehearse ‘em, work ‘em and rest ‘em.  Remember your hard-times and always ask questions if something is not clear."

"Whooah, sir."

"Is there anything else?"

"Negative, sir." Jones nodded and Smitt moved out.

Torch Thurman came up and silently asked the question.  Jones said, "LT Smitt should be OK with his part of the mission.  Just make sure Wilson knows I understand things."

The key leader recon consisted of the 3-man patrol, Jones, the 3 platoon leaders and Javier Rodriguez, the guide.  The recon was uneventful.  The ORP, routes and sectors for each company sub-unit were identified and finalized.  At one point Jones and Mosconi attempted to get as close to the village as possible.  A small mutt began barking savagely at them and they moved back to the main patrol.  With the exception of the dog and the cawing of crows, the village lay wrapped in silence.  Whatever the situation was in Tres Cruces, it would not become apparent until the cordon & search began.

At 0430 CPT Jones moved to the RTO and initiated contact with battalion headquarters.  Under cover of darkness, 2 poncho liners and a poncho, Jones went back thru the concept of the operation with the battalion S3, operations officer Major Ron "Rucksack" Reginald.  Triple R loved the nickname Rucksack.  His unquenchable thirst for 25-mile forced marches in full combat equipment by his subordinate companies were torturous and without end.  The quarterly training requirement to conduct a march monitored by him personally insured that each company had massive doses of road marching on the training schedule.

"Gunfighter, don’t take any chances out there.  Tres Cruces village elder knows we’re coming in, but with the strong Dignity Battalion activity in that area; we haven’t been able to warn him of our final approach.  Make contact and get the intel we need to find Rojo and crush that bug like a roach."

"Roger, over."

"When the village is secure, contact us. Out."

Jones switched off his red lenses flashlight and gratefully took the poncho hooch from over his body and immediately exchanged the stifling heat of the hooch for the oppressive night of the jungle.  Without a pair of independently powered Night Observation Devices, it would be impossible to move so early from the Assembly Area.  The NODs and well-placed infrared chem-light juice would provide ample ability to move out, occupy the ORP and set up the cordon & search.

0700: Still no sign of life from the village.  An observation post watching Tres Cruces reported no fires, smoke or smells.  The Wild Carrot broke squelch twice and began his search.  Jones was grateful that daylight was just beginning to cause the black jungle to take on the cold gray of a new dawn.  The darkness would conceal 2d platoon’s movement that much longer.

0710: The first 3 huts came up empty and our mutt’s howling began.

0724: Tres Cruces appears to be empty and 2d platoon is nearing the village square…

"Holy Shit, sir!"

"Alright Carrot what do we have?" 

LT Moore subconsciously kept his mic keyed – "SGT Dixon I want a fucking perimeter set up around the square NOW…3^rd platoon, MUSTARD ALPHA" (this was the op phrase for that platoon to send its 2 squads in pronto to conduct the search from north to south and link up in the square)…

"Sierra 27 this is Foxtrot 27 in the red, over" CPT Jones spoke over the company’s brick radio, a type of supercharged non-encrypted walkie-talkie.

"Jesus Sergeant, don’t touch tha—Fuck!"

"Sierra 27, sitrep, over!"

"Damn, I’m sorry sir!  I didn’t release the mic, over."

"Give me a situation report now!"

"Roger, the three crosses in the village square are…occupied…, over…"

"Occupied with what?"

"Bodies, over."

"Roger, once your link up with 3^rd platoon is complete, advise status – all remaining elements maintain over-watch and security."

0749: The light of day was evident and Tres Cruces was secure.  LT Moore gave the signal and CPT Jones moved the remaining company elements in a collapsing perimeter around the edges of the village.  The Gunfighter called out "Top, follow me into the village square." 1SG Thurman complied.

"Mother of God!  LT Moore have them, those, it cut down from those crosses. Bravo 19 this is Foxtrot 27, over…Bravo 19, Foxtrot 27, over…"

"27, 19 go."

"Roger, sitrep on objective follows – village secure, no one found alive, apparent torture and mass mutilation of inhabitants.  Will begin a search in detail for survivors, there may be someone, somewhere that survived, over."

"Foxtrot 27 this is Bravo 27, confirm no survivors, over."

"Roger, will confirm, over."

"Bravo 27, out."   

CPT Jones and his command began the sad task of clearing the area and looking for survivors.  Aid & Litter Teams became makeshift graves registration teams, only there were no bodies to be buried.  Rojo Montez and his merry bunch of butchers had hacked each villager into large chunks of humanity and made a collage of human misery on each cross with the remaining parts strewn around in a rough circle.  1SG Thurman supervised the recovery of body parts and 1LT Volkner photographed the scenes of horror.  Ultimately, the pitiful pieces of man and woman, child and infant were interred together and given a burial pyre.  As the sickeningly sweet smell of charred flesh wafted through the village, determined troopers began a systematic dismantling of the village in the waning hope of finding survivors.

Suddenly an outcry of terror and a brief flash of 2 mid-sized bodies making a run for the jungle broke the crackle of the funeral fire.

"Don’t let ‘em get away!"

"Easy, easy, they’re just kids."

"Thank God we’ve found someone alive!"

"Take it easy, calmate’calmate’.  We need Javier over here now…!"

"Bravo 27 this is Foxtrot 27, over."

"Foxtrot this is Bravo, over."

"Bravo, request Alpha-Juliet Tree, over."

"Roger, out." AJ-3 stood for alternate jamming frequency #3 and was SOP for 2^nd Battalion Command Group to use as a means of secure, private communications.

"Foxtrot 27 this is Bravo 27, over."

"Bravo this is Foxtrot, over."

"Talk to me Gunfighter," said Lt. Colonel "Mad Jack" Samuelson.

"Sir, we have 2 survivors, a 14 year old male and his 11 year old sister.  They were able to escape the massacre by hiding in a spider hole hidden in the rear of a hut.  What these kids went through is nothing short of horrific.  Rojo Montez hit the village 2 days ago with about 40-50 men.  It seems a local informant tipped off Montez that we were enroute to provide assistance and Montez decided to make this village an example of what happens to supporters of the Yanquis, over"

"Damn, we could have used Tres Cruces support in identifying Montez’ AO."

"Sir, I believe we can still get some help with that. The male survivor Miguel Tortuga says that he overheard Montez and his men talking about returning to their base camp and Miguel says he can guide us there."

"Is he coherent? What about his sister?"

"Miguel is bent on revenge and his sister is in shock; but refuses to leave his side."

"I believe we should pull you out…"

"Sir, Miguel insists he can lead us to Montez’ camp in less than 2 day’s hard marching. He swears he can control his sister and help us complete our mission."

"Alex, your last resupply was 3 days ago and your company has been fighting through jungle for 9 days…I’ll consider your request, wait for my next transmission on the Battalion Net."

"Wilco, over."

"Bravo 27, out."

For the better part of 3 hours the company waited for battalion’s response. During that time a large amount of intel was sent back to the battalion tactical operations center.  The TOC was abuzz with activity, it seemed that "Mad Jack" was seriously considering the course of action the Gunfighter requested.  The battalion’s frag-order was lengthy and explicit: Find Montez and turn him and his bunch into red meat.

About half way thru the 2^nd day of movement SGT Mosconi and Javier Rodriguez met the company at an intermittent stream less that 5 clicks from Montez’ camp.  Their guest guide, Miguel Tortuga, strode confidently by their side.  Miguel had been true to his word and the memory of his slain village – he had led the company almost flawlessly, through a dense mass of wilderness that would have curled the toes of the most stalwart Viet Cong terrorist.  The forced march thru relentless jungle would have tried the will of lesser soldiers, but these weren’t ordinary soldiers.  These were American Airborne Rangers bent on the destruction of sworn enemies!

The blistering pace of the march meant that CPT Jones would have extra time to evaluate and plan the action on the camp.  The Rojo’s Dignity Battalion was comprised of roughly 80 men and the camp was a paramilitary abstraction.  Though the camp didn’t house families, there were about 15-20 females in the Battalion. These females were not camp followers or wives of the men, rather jungle guerrillas in their own right, heavily armed and particularly treacherous.  All indications were that the Dignity Battalion had returned to the camp about 24 hours ahead of Jones’ company and were in the middle of preparations for a celebration.  The party, no doubt, was to extol the success of their reign of terror in the area.  The Gunfighter delivered a complete Operations Order that afternoon with a fire of determination that left no question as to the outcome of the coming action…

0600: The unmistakable smell of sour liquor, vomit and raucous aftermath to a debaucherous reverie was overpowering and alien in the jungle air.  The Gunfighter’s company had been in their assault positions for approximately 30 minutes waiting for the execution phase of their operation to commence… Suddenly the silence of the dense forest was broken by the whoosh and explosions of 2 LAAW rockets fired almost simultaneously at the guard shacks of Montez’ camp.  M-60 machine guns and Squad Automatic Weapons began a frenzied staccato of chatter between the platoons of the company.  Each set of weapons raking the terrorist camp within their assigned sectors of fire.

0602: Tracer ammunition began to cause fires among the grass huts, startled thugs stumbled drunkenly from the shelters only to be cut down where they emerged.  A few half-coherent thugs tried to make a break for the jungle away from the Gunfighter’s withering wall of steel, only to be blasted into Swiss cheese by some of the multiple placed claymore mines surrounding the camp.

0603: The crescendo of weapons fire built up tremendously from the platoon’s assault positions.  Every weapon available was now firing into the Dignity Battalion’s lair.  The pairing of all weapons handlers insured that the rain of steel would continue unabated even during the brief interval needed to reload.

0605: 3^rd platoon’s marauders surged forward. "Terrible" Tom Sullivan fired a green star-cluster over the camp, signaling the lifting and shifting of fires out of the impact area.  The remainder of the company complied and began a looser fire on the edges of the camp; cutting off any remaining escape routes from the camp. Targets of opportunity were immediately dispatched as they made crazed attempts to reach the jungle.  1LT Sullivan’s men released their pent up rage at the memory of Tres Cruces.  Montez and his murderers were given no quarter…

0610: Continuous firing in and around the camp ceased.  The occasional double pop of M-16s rang thru the air as the objective area was cleared.  Soon the entire site of the attack was secure.  Only eight survivors remained of the Dignity Battalion: 3 wounded, 5 unhurt.  Rojo Montez was found in the shattered remains of the largest hut – the apparent victim of the first volley of fire when the attack was initiated.  Terrible Tom called for CPT Jones and the remainder of the search & clearing teams into the camp.  All weapons were piled high into the small ammo bunker located in the central, rear of the terrorist camp and rigged for demolition. The company would have 10 minutes to complete its search, demo rigging and prisoner movement.  Then began a phased movement to their extraction point, a small jungle clearing would be the pick-up zone, approximately 1.5 kilometers from the camp.  2LT Smitt’s platoon had already moved to secure the PZ for extraction and "Mad Jack" Samuelson’s 15 UH-60 Blackhawks tasked with the extraction were in bound.

0619: Jackpot! Terrible Tom’s RTO stumbled onto a battered field desk blown outside of Montez’ hut.  A quick look indicated enough intelligence to make the most straight-laced intel weenie quiver in orgasmic anticipation. 

"Fire in the hole!" rang out the first warning of impending demolitions ignition. 

"Grab that fuckin’ desk and let’s get the hell out of here, Tom!" sang out the Gunfighter.

CPT Jones placed a particularly interesting map case over his shoulder and made for the exfiltration route along with LT Sullivan.

"Fire in the hole!" came the second warning of demolition. The remaining elements of 3^rd platoon and the company pulled out of camp…

0620: "Fire in the hole!" signaled the 3^rd and final warning and the demo team pulled the M8 Igniter Fuse ring starting the final sequence for the explosion to come.  About 300 meters into the jungle the demolitions began their final work on the assorted weapons, ammunition and supplies of Montez’ shattered camp.  A series of 5 explosions rocked the atmosphere totally obliterating any workable weapons and equipment left in the camp.

0640: The Company sat in the forest in PZ posture awaiting extraction.  The Gunfighter was systematically reviewing the contents of Montez’ map case.  He allowed the 2IC and LT Smitt to honcho the helicopter extraction.

 0646: Flaviators were always late!  The unmistakable sound of massed Blackhawks filled the air.  As a section of 4 choppers came in to pickup each platoon, 2 gunships provided overwatch and cover.

0654: The final chalk of CPT Jones’ company boarded the last section of choppers and cleared the PZ.

The ride back to Mad Jack’s battalion area was uneventful.  CPT Jones lazily reviewed the contents of the map case a little more.  The adrenaline surges of the past few days finally releasing his keyed up body and allowing some unwanted rest.  They had another hour or so of chopper ride to endure and Jones forced himself to stay awake a few minutes longer.  The map case contained a large amount of data indicating locations of other Dignity Battalions, weapons caches and supply sites.  This was the perfect ending to a sad story of suffering and revenge.  The Gunfighter secured the intel back into the map case and allowed himself to drift slowly to a relaxed state.  He had no doubt the information he and his men carried would provide more opportunity for his unit and others tasked with securing the Panamanian countryside.  Jones could only marvel at the fact that his command had suffered only minor scrapes, contusions and sprains from their foray into the jungles.  He would have to conduct all the nitnoid after action reviews, briefbacks and other assorted requirements of the poet-warrior locked in the body of an American Infantry Officer.  For now though, a job well done deserved its own set of military plans, most notably centered around all the hot women and cold cerveza Rodriguez could help arrange for…