“So, why don’t we just bomb them?” Flint demanded.
“Who?”
“Everyone. No, really. In Iraq, I thought we were supposed to be able to head off dangerous concentrations of armor.”
“Not really, sir. Besides, Saudi Arabia and the other Gulf Cooperation Council states have really tightened the screws on our use of their airfields. They won’t let us bomb Iraq from their bases anymore. We can only fly from Kuwait or from carriers.”
Flint did not want to hear what was coming for his already over taxed Marines, “So, what impact does Iraq have on us?”
“Rumor has it that we will not be pulled out in two weeks to return to Okinawa as planned. In fact, the Third MEF may pull out and be sent to the Gulf. They’re talking about putting a joint task force in place here and backfilling the Third MEF with Army units.”
“That’s fine. The Army likes to occupy anyway. Marines get restless after a few months in the same place. Any read on who?”
Ramirez shrugged, “Probably the 25th Infantry Division out of Hawaii. They’re close and they’re used to working under PACOM.”
An urgent knock at the door interrupted the officers’ discussion.
“Enter!” Flint’s voice boomed authority.
“Colonel,” the man nodded at Flint, “Major Ramirez, sorry to bother you here, but this is urgent.” It was Gunnery Sergeant Hudson, one of Major Ramirez’s intelligence NCOs.
“Go ahead ‘Gunny’.” Ramirez said.
“Sir, we’re getting a report that Ocussi is being overrun by militia. There’s looting and burning. Our source on the ground says that a big massacre is in the works.”
Ocussi was some 60 miles to the west of East Timor proper. Situated on the north coast, Ocussi was an East Timorese enclave about 40 kilometers wide by 20 kilometers deep completely surrounded by Indonesian territory. For the last three weeks it had been occupied by a company of Thai marines.
Flint jumped up, “Rez, call the Operations officer. I want a warning order to go out within 20 minutes. We may be asked to respond.”
In less than 15 minutes the commanders of the Battalion Landing Team, the Aviation Combat Element, and the MEU Service Support Group 31 were all briefed on the potential for a new mission. They began planning the action with their staffs and commanders.
Half an hour later, the Third MEF commander called Colonel Flint, “Mike, this is General Hill.”
“Yes sir.”
“You hear about Ocussi? The Thai are having their asses handed to them. We need you to go in, guns blazing. If they take too many casualties, we may lose their participation. You have to ride to the rescue.”
“Yes sir. I sent out a warning order 30 minutes ago. I can have two rifle companies there within an hour after your order.”
Lieutenant General Hill pounced at the good news, “Excellent!”
“Sir, just one question. Can I use my tanks?”
“Negative.” Hill clearly didn’t even want to hear the question.
“Sir. Ocussi is very hot right now. I could use some tanks to calm things down.” Flint’s voice was level.
“Very well, if you can get them there in time to be useful, go ahead and try.” Hill knew that Flint would have to bring in his LCACs, load the heavy tanks on, one per LCAC, then push 150 kilometers down the coast. It would probably take at least six hours before the M1s would arrive. By then, Colonel Flint’s 31st MEU would have taken control of the situation and any controversial use of heavy armor could be avoided. “One more thing Mike. I don’t want cluster bombs on your Harriers. Too much of a chance for collateral damage. There’s a report of an American news crew in Ocussi. I don’t want any footage of Marines slaughtering innocent civilians.”
The last statement floored Flint. He opened his mouth before thinking, “General, was the decision about the cluster bombs your own, or did the Pentagon order that one?”
There was a pause as the general processed the comment, “At ease Marine. You’ll do your job if all I give you to do it with is a stick! Out!”
And I’d take the stick and shove it up your… Flint’s thought was interrupted by the crew chief for his Huey. “The bird’s ready when you are sir. When’re we going?”
“Be ready to fly in ten.”
Flint had 12 “Frogs” and six Super Stallions in the air. He was in his Huey. Four Harriers, two Cobras and a Huey in a fire direction control role were already on station over Ocussi. The Thai unit was down to one platoon fighting for its life in a few downtown buildings. One by one the buildings the unit occupied were being set on fire, flushing the hard-pressed Thai troops out into the open and under the withering fire of machine gunners and snipers. The Huey reported seeing a civilian news crew amongst the militia. The Marine air units began to return fire with their cannons and miniguns. They concentrated on destroying any crew served weapons such as mortars or machine guns that might produce heavy casualties against the Marines.
Within sight of Dili the LCACs had embarked the M1s and were making their way to Ocussi at a fuel-gulping 40 knots, trailing a thick spray behind them. They’d arrive a little more than an hour-and-a-half after Golf and Foxtrot Companies had set down. The three ships in the ARG with the remainder of the 31st MEU were also steaming west and would be off shore in a little less than two hours.
Flint decided the area around the besieged Thais was too hot to land on top of. He ordered his BLT commander to land the two rifle companies 1,500 meters up wind of the firefight. One company with attachments from the Heavy Weapons Company would advance with the three LAVs brought by the CH-53s while the other company would remain in reserve by the three 155mm M198 artillery pieces slung in by the other three CH-53s.
Given the constrained and chaotic small urban area below, Flint uncharacteristically decided to stay in the air to orchestrate the fight. He’d let the commander of the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marines, Lieutenant Colonel “Skip” Bailey, do the honors on the ground.
Within minutes of landing, Bailey called in a report that chilled Flint’s blood, “Bulldog One, this is Hammer One, over.”
Flint heard something in Bailey’s voice he had never heard before — something that scared him. “This is Bulldog One, go ahead, over.”
“Bulldog One… Oh God, sir… Umm,” Bailey was losing it, “Sir, I think we found some of the Thai troops. They were executed. Beheaded. Sir… Oh… Shit sir, you’re not going to believe this. When we came up on the bodies we caught some of the militia drinking the blood of the Thai soldiers. These guys are friggen nuts sir. Ugghh! I’m going to be…” before he could say it, Bailey had wisely un-keyed the mike and barfed.
Flint had remembered reading about the barely suppressed warrior traditions of some of the Indonesian ethnic groups — some of whom still had living relatives who had been cannibals. He had read reports of the ritualistic drinking of the blood of the vanquished in the aftermath of ethnic battles within the year. He never dreamed any of his men would have to face something so barbaric.
“Hammer One, this is Bulldog One, did you capture the perpetrators, over?” Flint asked, not really wanting to hear that his Marines let the men live that did this.
“Bulldog One,” Bailey had regained some of his composure, “We have two alive, they’re wounded, but I think they’ll live.” He sounded disappointed.
“Roger. Have a squad stay with them until we can pick them up. I’ll send a platoon from the reserve company to secure the EPWs as well as the atrocity site. This is a war crime and someone’s going to pay. Out.”