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BOOK: Seals (2005)
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Bruno Puglisi, a petty officer second class from South Philadelphia, came from a mob family. With most of his male relatives either whacked or jailed, he decided the best place for him to find a macho lifestyle was in the Navy SEALs. He had a special affinity for hand-fired weaponry--particularly the automatic variety--and he was assigned to the maintenance, repair and issue of all firearms used in the platoon. Additionally, Puglisi was the platoon sniper. At other times he was one-half of the fire support element, working with Petty Officer First Class Connie Concord, who grew up in rural Arkansas, spent a boyhood hunting and was an expert with shotguns and the M-203 grenade launcher.

Demolitions were the bailiwick of Joe Miskoski, a petty officer second class who had attended the Army's Special Warfare Center Demolition Course. He had become a virtual artist with C4 plastic explosive, claymore mines, detonation cord, satchel charges and limpet mines.

All the communications in the Brigands was in the capable hands of Petty Officer Second Class Frank Gomez, who not only operated radios but was expert in keeping them in good working order.

The two chief petty officers Dawkins and Gunnarson were tasked with choosing the right equipment and gear for whatever jobs the platoon drew.

When all the assignments had been made, Lieutenant Brannigan finished his discourse with a final announcement. "Lieutenant Cruiser and I will work out the infiltration and exfiltration. The rest of you stand by for other tasks that will be popping up from time to time. There's going to be a lot of fetching and carrying. That's it, guys. Turn to!"

There was a scuffling of desks and boots on the deck as they left the area to attend to their assigned duties.

Chapter 2

ISOLATION

5 AUGUST

0730 HOURS LOCAL

THE desks were arranged in a semicircle, and a table with two chairs had been placed to the direct front of the room. Commander Tom Carey and Lieutenant Commander Ernest Berringer occupied these. They had maps and notebooks opened, and were poised to get into the proceedings of the debriefing. A blown-up photograph of the OA taken from satellite imagery was mounted on the wall. There was a large urn of the Navy's version of coffee sitting on an ammo box, and every man in the room had a steaming cup of the invigorating brew sitting in front of him.

"Have you all learned to count from one to ten in Pashto?" Berringer asked. When everyone nodded affirmatively, he said, "I haven't learned them but I wrote them down." He looked over at Dave Leibowitz. "Salor!"

Dave instantly replied, "Shpag!"

"Right!" Berringer said. "Four and six make ten."

"Now that we've gone through basic Pashto arithmetic,"

Carey said, "let's get on with the briefing. We're both ready, guys. Shoot."

Lieutenant Bill Brannigan sat off to one side, relaxed and at ease while his 2IC Jim Cruiser took the floor. Cruiser used his laser beam pointer to indicate a spot on the satellite photograph. "We will be making a HALO infiltration and will land on this DZ. The jump will be executed at the twilight hour of eighteen-forty-five. You will note then there are two mountain ridges between that area and"--he shifted the red dot of light--"there! That is where the warlord's compound is located."

Carey leaned forward to get a better look. "That must be some five miles, Lieutenant. Why so far from the DZ?"

"Security of the jump, sir," Cruiser explained. "We'll exit the aircraft at twelve thousand feet AGL and open at thirty-five hundred. That will give us minimum exposure just before we descend out of view below the mountaintops." He moved the laser again. "Here is where we'll set up a base camp on the western ridge. The idea is to go to the contact point over here across the two mountains. We have dubbed the ridge nearest the DZ as West Ridge. The one nearest the contact point is called East Ridge." Another laser shift to the bombed-out village. "Our contact party will link up with the defector here and head directly back to the base camp. After calling in the aircraft for exfiltration, we will meet it there on the DZ that then becomes an LZ."

"Can a C-130 land there?" the intelligence officer, Berringer, asked.

"Yes, sir," Cruiser answered. "I checked with Mr. Ishaq and he assured me it was a suitable location. The terrain is firm and flat."

"Will there be any special platoon equipment?" Carey inquired.

"No, sir," Cruiser said. "There's no need for that. Everyone will be capable of carrying the necessary gear of their specialty to accomplish the mission."

When the 21C finished his presentation, Petty Officer Second Class Mike Assad took the floor. "The only recon Petty Officer Leibowitz and I could do was obviously a map reconnaissance, sir," he explained. "We combined that with questions to Mr. Ishaq to figure out the best course. Our contact party will follow this route." He now began employing his own laser beam. "There is an easy way down from the base camp on West Ridge to the first valley floor. There seems to be plenty of cover. The problem is crossing that valley, because it has only sparse, skimpy brush. We're going to have to adopt a heavy-security mode as we go across. A single skirmish line would be best, since it would be the fastest way. And if we are attacked from the direction of the compound, all our firepower will be going directly to our front. From that point on we go into fire-and-maneuver as the situation dictates."

"What about that second ridge line, Petty Officer?" Carey asked. "I'm speaking of the one you people are calling East Ridge. That's an open, exposed top and the side leading down to the flat lands where the contact point is located hasn't got as much as a blade of grass on it."

"Our guys can move along here below the ridge line on the far side from the contact point:' Mike said. "We found a place right here that looks down on the village where the defector is supposed to show up. There's excellent concealment in the rocks here where we can provide covering fire for the contact party if necessary. There shouldn't be more than three or four guys going down for the meet, so that leaves fourteen of us to back 'em up."

"Looks good to me:' Carey remarked, writing in his notebook.

James' Bradley took Mike's place. With no reason to put on a dog-and-pony show, he stood empty-handed in front of the two officers. "Sir, I'm the platoon hospital corpsman. I'm going to supply each man an emergency medical kit that will fit in a pocket of his assault vest. This will be a basic `help yourself' setup with a battle dressing and an Ace bandage. There will also be some codeine and morphine, along with sedatives, stimulants and a couple of sets of pills for constipation and diarrhea. I'll be bringing along my own field surgical kit for major trauma. That will include extra battle dressings, painkillers, lactate solution and catheter kits, among other items. All this is standard."

"It sounds like you've got everything covered in your health care program," Carey remarked.

"Yes, sir," James said. "And I do make house calls and my fees are reasonable."

Chuckles rippled across the room and Berringer said, "And no insurance forms to fill out either, I bet."

Weapons and fire support were next on the agenda. Petty Officer First Class Connie Concord was the senior man in that effort, but he was never fond of public speaking, so he delegated the function to his only subordinate, Petty Officer Second Class Bruno Puglisi, who loved an audience. Puglisi, like Bradley, had no use for the satellite map. He cut straight to the chase. "All the guys is gonna be packing SIG Sauer nine-millimeter auto pistols in drop holsters. They'll also be bringing along two extra fifteen-round magazines in addition to the one in the weapon. That's forty-five friggin' rounds, y' know? Plenty, believe me. If some dumb bastard gets himself into a position where he's gotta use his pistol and shoot up that many bullets, he's either the worst shot this side o' Jersey or the unluckiest guy that ever survived Hell Week:'

"Well said, Puglisi," Carey remarked.

"Right, sir. Ever' body except Petty Officer Concord and me is gonna go on the mission with CAR-15s and five extra thirty-round magazines. Me and him is gonna have M-16 rifles along with M-203 grenade launchers. We'll take along plenty of HE, star shells and smoke rounds for signaling on the LZ."

"What about machine gun fire support?" Carey asked.

"We won't need it, sir:' Puglisi said. "Between the M-16s and the CAR-15s we'll be able to put out all the firepower we need. An M-60 machine gun and all that ammo it needs is too frigging heavy. Another thing to take into consideration is that we'd have to pull a guy out of one of the fire teams as a bullet toter."

"If the lieutenant has faith in your choice, then it's fine with us, Puglisi," Carey said. "Next!"

"I'm in charge of commo," Petty Officer Second Class Frank Gomez announced to the N2 and N3. "Everybody is going to get a LASH radio headset for intra-platoon use. The guys can speak in whispers and the throat mike will pick it up and transmit it like normal speech. That'll come in handy if the bad guys are nearby. As for me, since I'll be communicating with the aircraft for the pickup, I'm bringing along an AN/PSC-5 Shadowfire radio. The nearly twenty pounds of weight is worth putting up with in case there is a need for long-range commo. I'm planning on leaving it at the base camp when we move out to pick up the defector."

"It seems you have that aspect of the operation well thought out, Petty Officer," Berringer said. He looked over the other men. "What about demolitions?"

Petty Officer Joe Miskoski got to his feet. "No boom-boom, sir. On this trip I'm gonna be strictly a grunt."

"Now let's hear about your other gear," Berringer said.

This was the signal for Chief Petty Officer Matt Gunnar-son to give his pitch. "Me and Senior Chief Dawkins worked out the basic load that will affect ever' body. First line equipment is what the guys will wear. It'll be the usual BDU, and we recommend an emergency compass, matches, a good Swiss Army knife, a couple of Powerbars and some condoms. The rubbers won't be for loving since there ain't gonna be much of a chance to meet any friendly ladies out there. But they'll be real handy for waterproofing and dust-proofing stuff."

Carey interrupted. "You say you recommend those items?"

"When me and the senior chief recommend a piece of equipment, every swinging dick better damn well have it on him."

"Understood, Chief," Carey stated.

Chief Gunnarson continued. "The platoon also needs to take along field jackets since it can get really cool in the highlands of Afghanistan, even in August."

"Sounds satisfactory for a short mission like this," Carey said. "Are you contemplating combat vests or LBEs?"

"Vests, sir," Gunnarson answered. "That's where we'll stick our second line equipment. That stuff consists of a day's worth of MREs, the medical kit Petty Officer Bradley is handing out, a two-quart canteen, a couple o' frag grenades, binoculars, a GPS and water purification tablets."

"I take it that the guys will be able to bring along some items of their own choice," Carey remarked.

"Right, sir," Gunnarson said. "They're the ones that'll hump the stuff, so I'm sure there won't be any unnecessary items. The rucksacks will be for the third line equipment. That'll be the basic load of MREs, entrenching tool, poncho, poncho liner, foam mattress, extra socks, water bladder, an extra BDU, night vision goggles and those other goodies I just mentioned. That's it, sir."

"What about sleeping bags?" Berringer asked.

"We won't need 'em, sir:' Gunnarson answered. "The mission shouldn't go on that long."

"Don't forget contingencies, Chief," Carey cautioned him.

"If there's a delay, we can make envelope rolls out of the ponchos and liners to sleep in. If we keep our clothes on and we put them foam mattresses between us and the ground, we'll all sleep toasty warm."

Carey smiled at the tough SEAL using a term like "toasty warm." He glanced over at Bill Brannigan. "It seems you're well prepared for the operational part of the mission. Now it's my turn. Here's your itinerary. You'll fly from North Island via C-130 on a easterly flight with the necessary refueling stops. You'll make station time aboard the aircraft at eighteen hundred hours this evening. The minute the landing gear goes up, you're between commands. Your ETA at Station Bravo in Bahrain will be oh-six-hundred local on 7 August.

At that point, the Army S-3 of the area's SOCOM will take you under his wing." He picked up his papers and put them in his briefcase. "Now, this just in. I saved it for the last to avoid interrupting the debriefing. Be prepared to extend your mission if so ordered. The situation is very unstable at the moment."

"It won't change much," Brannigan said. "We might have to make a couple of adjustments. No sweat. The problem will be resupply if we need it. That's out of our hands."

BOOK: Seals (2005)
13.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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