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Sparrow's Tears

AuthorHouse

Contents

1. The Perfect Life..........................12. Too Good To Be True.......................63. "Watch Your Step Sir".....................94. The Country Team..........................125. Enter Malaysia............................216. The Delicate Sparrow......................307. Conference In Session.....................458. Doctrine Of Deceit........................539. Brothers Of Trust.........................6210. Speak To The Devil.......................6811. Death Is A Smile.........................7512. The Officers Creed.......................9013. Tomorrow Is Now..........................98

Chapter One

It was six o'clock in the morning. Captain James Ross was extremely happy. He had just driven his 1968 Ford Mustang through the agonizing slowness of Broadway in Steilacoom. He was now putting it through its paces on the main drag leading to north Fort Lewis. The car was barely holding on to its lime gold original paint. It only had a six cylinder 200 cubic inch engine, however Ross still loved it. It did not even have power steering or power brakes. But it was his. He had always wanted a '68 fastback. Now he had a beauty. The engine roared as Ross fiddled with the forty year old AM radio trying to get a rock station. He finally settled on a Beatles song and relaxed back in the bucket seats to enjoy the ride. The car had a musty old, even mysterious smell about it. He always wondered where it had been in the last forty years and what stories it could tell him. Outside, it was starting to mist and drizzle, as it always did in Washington State. He turned on the wipers to clear his view.

Ross was twenty-nine years old. He had piercing dark brown eyes with brown hair that would never stay put, and a knack for picking up languages. He graduated from Texas Christian University of Fort Worth eight years ago majoring in political science. This led to his original commissioning in Army Intelligence. He branch transferred to Special Forces as soon as he could.

Special Forces, otherwise known as the Green Berets, was exactly where Ross wanted to be. Veteran Special Forces or SF men, as they all liked to refer to themselves, would say the term "Green Beret" designated only a hat and the words "Green Beret" should never be used to refer to them. Secretly though, they all enjoyed calling themselves Green Berets.

Special Forces had been around officially in the United States Army since 1952. It was originally designed as a counter measure to the increasing Soviet threat in Europe. SF men were considered three time volunteers. They had volunteered for the Army, for Airborne School, and for Special Forces training. The basic concept was to take a motivated volunteer soldier and make him parachute qualified, otherwise known as "Airborne." Then teach him infantry tactics until he could expertly teach those same tactics to others. Finally, they were taught how to be a guerrilla fighter and succeed in the complex world of unconventional warfare. President John F. Kennedy authorized the wear of the Green Beret headgear for these exquisite soldiers over the objections of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in 1961. Kennedy was very smart and quick to realize that the growing trend for small brush fire revolutions fanned by the Soviet Union could only be countered by a light infantry-type U.S. guerrilla force of trained experts. The basic SF missions had remained pretty much the same since President Kennedy's time. The missions consisted of Special Reconnaissance, Direct Action, Foreign Internal Defense, and Unconventional Warfare in support of United States national objectives. Since the 1980's, SF missions now included Counterterrorism to combat the growing terrorist threat. The original concept was to parachute a Special Forces twelve man Alpha or "A" Detachment behind enemy lines. That detachment would then act as a force multiplier to train, equip, and lead, if necessary, a battalion sized force of indigenous troops to combat the guerrilla threat. It was an intriguing concept and put to the test extensively during the Vietnam War. After the war in Vietnam drew down, so did the ranks of Special Forces. SF man strength saw a surge during the Reagan years however and continues to grow to this day.

Captain James Ross was considered a seasoned operator. He had just finished two years worth of command of an Operational Detachment Alpha, otherwise known as ODA. He had been a Special Forces Team Commander in Company C, 3rd Battalion 1st Special Forces Group at Fort Lewis. Now he was doing his staff time as the 1st Special Forces Group S-2, or senior intelligence officer. He had been selected by the Group Commander to be the S-2, even though the position was considered senior staff and normally required an officer in the rank of Major to fill it. He spent most of his time interfacing with national agencies on special operations matters and a great deal of time traveling to the Group's area of operations, the Southeast Asian basin. He supervised an intelligence section consisting of a senior Master Sergeant and three other veteran operators. Ross was single and could spend as much time as needed at the unit or traveling. The more overseas he traveled, the more he was steered towards making the Army a career. He had never felt better about his choice of career. He loved his job and his life.

Soon Ross was motoring up to the front gate of Fort Lewis and hauling out his laminated identification card for the guards. Then he was thru and on his way to the 1st Group compound. He parked his Mustang in the designated S-2 spot. His Non-Commissioned-Officer-In-Charge Master Sergeant Jeremy Clark spotted him and motioned for Ross to hurry up. Everyone called Jeremy Clark by his initials, "JC."

As Ross loped up the concrete steps, Clark said, "Cool car Sir, but if you ever leave the Great Northwest and get assigned down south you'll wish you had air conditioning in it."

"Not to worry JC, I'll just think cool," Ross laughed out loud.

Clark slapped Ross on the shoulder and said, "Rumor is the old man has been looking for you."

"Really?" said Ross. "I wonder what I did now?"

Ross was always getting advice and counseling from the old man, otherwise known as Group Commander Colonel Fred Gautier. It seemed more regularly than not lately. There was the time in Thailand he was told to have his team, "fire up all your ammunition in country." Only Ross decided not to waste the ammo and built a storage bunker for it on the Thai SF compound in Korat. He planned on keeping the ammo there for future missions. That did not go over very well with Colonel Gautier. Then there was the time Ross had asked his friend, National Guard C-130 pilot Captain Henry Dabnae, to make a run out of northern Chiang Mai to fly the team "girl friends" over to Pattaya for some relaxation. That took some explaining. Ross finally ended up telling Colonel Gautier that they were "Thai nurse angels of mercy" needed for a Civic Action Program he was running down south. Not too far from the truth really, he thought. Somehow it always worked out for Ross. The old man seemed to love him. The Colonel had determined Ross's fate many times and it was always good. Ross finally came to realize that Colonel Gautier was the greatest mentor he had ever known.

Ross squared his shoulders and walked up the concrete steps of the headquarters building and in through the double doors, allowing the...