Upon completion of the Captain’s instructions, one MP obtained a small steel-folding chair and placed it next to Sarge’s door and deposited his big butt down solidly upon it - giving Sarge the distinct impression he was to remain until relieved.
Sarge could hear the other MP’s G.I. boots retreating back down the hall toward the front door. ‘What’s going on?’ he wondered.
Once the MP was stationed at the door, Little ‘S’ re-entered the room and pulled his chair up close to the head of his Pop’s bed to insure the conversation remained confidential. He quietly began to talk, not to this man he knew as his Pop but now he was talking to the Special Operations Sergeant - MSG Robert Scarburg, Sr.
Taking out a PhonoTrix 88 miniature recorder from his briefcase and flipping the switch to 'on' Captain Scarburg said to his dad, “There are things that we must now talk about. Our personal relationship must be put aside. We have to converse with the understanding you were the team leader of a Special Forces secret operation and I an Intelligence Officer charged with the duties of determining the facts of the OPS-35, Special Operations. I also have the force of Official Special Orders to establish a plan of action from here forward.”
Changing his composure he answered, “Certainly Captain, how can I be of service?”
“First, Sergeant let me officially offer the Army’s sincere appreciation for a job well done. Second I’m to officially inform you that your conduct, and the conduct of the personnel under your command was exemplary and are hereby awarded the Unit Commendation Award with Valor.”
“Thank you Captain, it is considerate of you to relay the Army’s kind words of sentiment and I accept your words of appreciation and the Commendation in the name of my men that accompanied me on that mission and especially to the memory of those that failed to return.”
“You are welcome Sergeant – let me begin by stating for the record this conversation, or debrief, if you prefer, is going to concentrate on you’re team’s ‘Photo Shoot’ mission and especially on Colonel Nikita Ergorov, known now by his code name – ‘Thumper’.”
“Sergeant Scarburg I am in possession of some ‘Top Secret’ data that concerns Colonel Ergorov and your ‘Photo Shoot’ mission. We, at higher command, understand that ‘Photo Shoot’ was of no great strategic military importance. We are in no way attempting to underplay the importance of your team’s mission nor the courage they demonstrated; however, ‘Thumper’ put extreme emphasis on the mission, for some reason, and from the data we have recently uncovered we know it wasn’t your specific mission goals that the Colonel found captivating, it was it’s name – ‘Photo Shoot’
“Captain, strange you should say that! I couldn’t put my finger on it either. While we were ‘talking’ in the Colonel’s cabin in the wildwood, I kept wondering why he kept pushing and prodding, literally, me to tell him about ‘Photo Shoot’. I too knew our mission, although important in it’s own way, did not warrant the attention of a Russian Special Forces Colonel’s personal attention. Why, Captain, was it so important to him?”
“Sarge, do you remember him questioning you about P.H.O.T.O.," asked the Captain?
“I sure do, but I couldn’t make any connection! I had, and still have no idea what this P.H.O.T.O. thing was. It was as much a mystery to me then as it is a now, do YOU know?” Sarge asked with his forehead wrinkled into a questioning frown.
“Yes, I do!! Remember, I said earlier that we had recently uncovered some ‘Top Secret’ information concerning ‘Thumper’ and P.H.O.T.O.” the Captain said, almost whispering, as he moved his chair even closer to Sarge’s bed. “Are you ready for the details?”
“Hell yes! I wish someone would tell me why that Russian s.o.b. would use that Ka-Bar to carve on me as if I was a prime T-bone steak!” Sarge answered as he raised himself upon one elbow and moved his head closer to the Captain so he couldn't miss a word he spoke.
“Well… here it is… Captain Scarburg said peering directly into Master Sergeant Scarburg’s eyes….
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PAC TOUL REVEALED
He began, “It was a dark and stormy night…”
"What... ? What are you....
He stopped, chuckled and said, “Hell Pop I always wanted to use that line!
Okay… I know with that whittled out ‘S’ on your chest that was not too funny… sorry.
Here’s the real story… A few weeks ago a Russian intelligence gathering fishing trawler slipped into South Vietnam’s twelve-mile territorial jurisdiction. The South Vietnamese dispatched patrol boats, as did the U.S. 7th Fleet to encourage them to get the hell out of their waters. Our Fleet was especially interested in them because the trawler had recently been shadowing some of our ships with the intent of capturing military intelligence information.
The trawler ignoring the patrol boat challenges; was fired upon and sunk. This all occurred in the Gulf of Tonkin just a little northeast of Da Nang. It was a large vessel and did not sink quickly. Our men had an opportunity to board her and retrieve a considerable amount of ‘Classified’, ‘Secret’ and ‘Top Secret’ documents that the Russians did not have time to destroy.
* * * * *
In this goldmine of intelligence information we found some documents relating to P.H.O.T.O. At the time of your capture, you were probably the first American to ever hear its name. With the documents we found, we pieced together P.H.O.T.O., so now the American Intelligence community knows just a minuscule amount of what it is.
Without going into a lot of technical mumbo jumbo that you don’t care about, it boils down to the fact that the Russian’s believe they know of a laboratory that the French began back in the ‘50s. Their research, in a nutshell, consisted of taking photos, turning them into some kind of digital dot and this picture can then be transmitted in some type of code over wire or it can be broadcast. Once sent and received, an exact copy of the picture or photo can be re-assembled. We suspect that it is a very advanced radiographic method, similar to our Teletype machines, but using some type of digital imagining, that can reproduce written words and photographs, exactly as sent and printed instantaneous. We have to get this technology before the Russians… this is where you come in…
* * * * *
We believe P.H.O.T.O. is located deep within Cambodia. At a place called Pac Toul….”
“Pac Toul... ! Pac Toul... ! I will never forget that name. He kept asking me over and over about that too… damn Russian bastard!!” Sarge exclaimed!”
“Pop, eh, I mean Sergeant, listen… we think maybe we have found this place, if it really exists at all, but we need to get there, get the equipment and get out. We believe this is a very important scientific breakthrough in photographic technology and General Westmoreland (Commander American forces in Vietnam) believes the reward will justify the risks.
* * * * *
HQ wants you to assembly another team - Operational Detachment - A Team (ODA-113), with the Code Name: ‘Photo Search’. You will be the team leader, put it together, and choose your own personnel. You are to infiltrate into Cambodia, find Pac Toul, retrieve the equipment with all supporting documentation, records and diagrams. Once this has been accomplished your team will return… hopefully. Pop, and I mean Pop, this is a highly dangerous mission, the chance for total success is slim, and the probability of a safe exit is highly doubtful.
If you see your mission cannot be successful in the acquisition of the equipment, then the equipment and all records pertaining to it that are found on site are to be totally destroyed. Our government does not want the possibility that this technology might fall into the Russian hands.”
Looking directly into Sarge’s dark brown eyes he said, “You do understand? We further believe ‘Thumper’ was privy to this same information and it is highly possible that he too is looking for Pac Toul, and may be trying to get there before you.”
Sergeant Robert Edward Scarburg, Sr., a.k.a. Big ‘S’ understood perfectly.
He ju
st wanted another chance at that big Russian Spatznas. This time without his hands being tied. “Count me in!” Sarge said, “When do we jump off!”
“Funny you should say ‘Jump Off’. As a Special Forces Ops guy, Pop, you know we have launched a number of Special Forces “Daniel Boone” missions into Cambodia looking for VC hideouts and safe-havens,” continued the son Robert.
“Yeah I do, and I know we haven’t been too successful with most of them. Still I’ve never heard mention of this Pac Toul place,” replied Sergeant Scarburg.
* * * * *
“To date we have not discovered an area known that could be identified as Pac Toul; however, we have pin-pointed an area up in the northern part of Cambodia, close to Thailand’s southern border that looks, on recon photos, to be an area of interest. This area is in the foothills of the Dangrek Mountains close to an un-named tributary of the Mekong River.”
“All right Captain… hold your horses… now we’re going back to speaking as father and son. Son you’re talking about a frigging long walk from here to the Dangreks!! A lot longer than I want to walk or ride a ‘copter into. Is this where this conversation is leading? You said earlier ‘infiltrate into Cambodia’, hell Son, Cambodia is a big piece of dirt to ‘infiltrate’.”
“Uh," said the Captain, trying not to look Sarge directly in the eye this time. “Remember when you said ‘Jump Off’, well jump off we will. We are going to jump into that area. As you know the Huey has only a range of app. 510 klicks (app. 300 miles) and we are talking way beyond that, plus I heard you say you didn’t want to walk nor ride a slick (helicopter) that far!”
“Damn… this just gets better and better,” Sarge said sarcastically. “By ‘Jump’ I assume you mean ‘JUMP’ as in parachute jump?”
“Roger on the meaning of ‘Jump’.”
“What are we going to use, big Herc (Hercules C-130 4-engine turbo-pro troop transport)?”
“Can’t go that route, too big, too noisy. We’ve got to go in lower, slower and quieter. We’re thinking about using the C-7A ‘Bou’ (Air Force 2-engined Caribou troop transport). Small enough, but big enough to get us there and without a lot of noise, what you think Pop?”
“I’ll tell you what I think… SON… I think what in the hell do you keep using the word ‘we’ for. You think I got a rat in my pocket?” Sarge said staring at his son.
* * * * *
“I think, this debrief has turned into a tête-à-tête with a father and son. That’s fine… but no rat…. the we in ‘we’ is you and me!! I’ll be coming along too, but before you start complaining - the team will be yours. I’m going to be your Intelligence guy with my specialized knowledge in the radiographic area. That’s why the Brass (his bosses) picked…”, before the Captain could finish his thought, there was a loud.. ‘thud’... ‘thud’... ‘thud’... pounding noise on Sarge’s door.
Captain Scarburg arose from his chair and walked over and opened the door. There standing at stiff attention was the M.P. Corporal that he left on guard duty at the door. “Yes, Corporal”, Scarburg annoyingly said, “What is it?”
“Sorry Sir,” spoke the Corporal in a slow southern drawl.
“What do you want?” We’re busy here," said Scarburg.
“Well Sir, there wuz this huge nurse who come down here and told me that she wuz going into this room and see her patient. I told her she wuzn’t, and she said if I didn’t let her in she wuz goin’ to whup my ass!! Sir, I believe her, she CAN whup my ass, and Sir, I’m afraid I’m goin’ to have to shoot her, Sir!! What do I do?”
“Stand At Ease’ Corporal. Where is that nurse right now?”
“She went back down the hall, but she said she’d be right back!”
“When she returns, knock on the door three times and then let her enter,” spoke the Captain as he shut the door and returned to his chair. He picked right back up where he left off…”as I was saying, my expertise in radiographic science is the reason the guys upstairs picked me for this mission.
As an ol’ Special Forces guy, Pop you know the drill for any ODA (Operational Detachment A) Team: first comes the ‘Warning Order - its just the first notification that an OPS mission is planned. I’m giving you that now. This just gets the ball rolling.
Then a Training Plan is needed to get everyone ship-shape for the mission.
Next The Mission Letter that tells us what we’re to do on the mission - finally the team receives its Operational Orders, by then it’s too late to do any training.
As the team Sergeant you will have to get us everything you think we will need to complete your mission. Items such as weapons, ammo, food, demolitions such as C4, detonation cords and blasting caps or any other items you think you need and we will be able to hump (carry). Additionally, you will have to coordinate with the parachute-loft to insure the parachutes are packed, inspected and ready.
I will begin scheduling all the events while you work your butt off getting the rest together. You know Pop in Special Forces we have learned to execute well-conceived OPS; we can do great things if we get our heads together and concentrate on accomplishing the mission.”
No sooner had he uttered the word ‘mission’ the Captain heard the three signal knocks on the door of Sarge’s room. “Enter," he called out. The door quickly flew open and in marched Sully with a tray full of medicine in tiny cups awaiting the ingestion by Sergeant Scarburg.
“I don’t care if the President himself is in here Big ‘S', it’s time for your medicine, and I’m going to see that you take it!” barked the big red-headed chief nurse, Major O’Sullivan, in all her nursing drill sergeant splendor.
After she had given the little cup of pills to Sarge, she ordered him to open up his mouth and diligently checked to make sure that he swallowed each and every one, she, followed by the M.P. Corporal, turned and started out the door.
Under his breath, faintly could be hear the Corporal grumbling, “Gosh durn, I believe shooting her would have been worth it!”
“One more thing Major, when do you and the doctors think Sergeant Scarburg will be well enough to leave?” asked the Captain.
“Captain, the doctor's last entry on Sergeant Scarburg's chart stated, with satisfactory progress, he could be released back to duty within two weeks. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you Major,” not knowing whether a hand salute was proper or not he extended his hand, “I… I personally appreciate the progress report and the Commanding General 5th Special Forces Group appreciates the excellent care and quality service you and your staff have provided to my Father, oh, sorry… MSG Robert Scarburg. I have also been instructed to inform you and your staff have been recommended for commendation, again, thank you.”
With the handshake, Major Sully left the room and returned to her other nursing duties
* * * * *
“Pop you are being re-assigned to FOB (Forward Operating Base) 5, which is a klick or two south of Kontum, but most of your planning and training will occur at the Ranger Camp Polei Kleng, about 20 klicks west of Kontum. Kontum has a good East West airstrip that we can use for the Caribou's take-off when we push off.”
With those instructions, Captain Scarburg handed Sergeant Scarburg a large manila envelope, marked ‘Top Secret’. “Here are your Official Orders and a more complete set of details, see you in a couple of weeks, Pop.”
“Oh, one other thing Pop – when they dug you out of the cabin in the wildwood you were clutching a Russian Tokarev pistol in your hand.
“Yeah, that belonged to the Russian Colonel, ‘Thumper’ as you called him.”
“You had such a death grip on it the Medivac medics could not pry it from your hand. They removed it when you got here to the 75th and it was placed with your personal effects. Didn’t want you to be surprised when you check out and find it in your Personal Effects bag. If anyone deserve a war trophy I believe this pistol belongs to you now.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ODA-113 ‘PH
OTO SHOOT’ MEMBERS IDENTIFIED
Monday October 23 1967
After being re-assigned to Camp Pole Cat and the life or death Viet Cong attack on their compound last month Sarge was now forcing his mind to concentrate on his upcoming mission and let Spec 4 Davis fade into the deeper recesses of his memory.
MSG Robert Scarburg had known many Davis’ and he also knew he would probably know more. He just knew ‘there was no time for sentiment in this man’s Army’. It was time to get his shit together and take care of the mission at hand – ODA-113 ‘Photo Shoot’.
The training had been completed; the supplies were drawn and issued, all the team members had been briefed down to the last detail.
The team was almost complete: they had a team leader, Master Sergeant Robert E. Scarburg, Sr.; a team Intelligence Officer, Captain Robert E. Scarburg, Jr.
Sergeant First Class Thomas ‘Bonnie’ Clyde was a tall raw-boned blonde from East St. Louis. Mean enough and tough enough to like the nickname and make anyone who made fun of it regret that decision, was the Demo (demolition) man.
Sergeant First Class Jim Bo (almost his real name) 'Tex' De Luca, one would think from Texas, right? Wrong! New York City. A quick-tempered, handsome dark-skinned lad of Italian ancestory with a headful of black wavy hair. His real name was James Boccardi De Luca. At first, the men thought he was Mexican and christened him 'Tex" handled Como (communications).
Sergeant First Class Thaddeus ‘Teach’ Collins with his sandy red hair and freckled face didn't look old enough for the Army, much less Special Forces, was the Weapons guy. When not working on one of their weapons he had his head buried in a copy of The Development of Western Civilization, The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire or some other pinhead book. Sarge knew he wanted to return to school and become a history teacher when he got back in the world.
They had one medic Sergeant First Class Charles “Doc Mayo” Hellmans, a serious down-to-earth guy with medical school on his mind after this war, and another un-named medical Sergeant who was supposed to arrive from Kontum on the next re-supply Huey.