Combat Swimmer (30 page)

My radioman came up and told me he couldn't raise our guys. It seems that just as we were loading the C-5s, the staff communicator had changed the frequencies for secrecy reasons, so now my guys at the two target sites couldn't talk with anyone. I thought it was strange we couldn't raise them, since we had the same wrong frequencies, but my radioman explained that it had to do with the satellite: when we changed frequencies, we also changed satellites, and our guys were pointing their antennas in the wrong direction. At that point all this sounded to me like radioman babble; I figured the guys on the ground had been too busy to set up their SATCOM radios anyway.

Back to the flag bridge, I learned that my pilot had been injured and couldn't fly another helo back.

Meanwhile, I told Digger I wanted to talk to our commanding general, who I thought would be at our airfield by now. Instead he was still in the Airborne Command, Control and Communications (ABCCC) plane. I called him on Digger's radio and passed him the code word meaning we'd secured the governor general. This was assuming a lot, but I had complete confidence in Duke and his men. The CG told me the situation at our airfield was still undecided, with the locals putting up stiff resistance. He wasn't going there until we had control. I told him I was trying to commandeer a helo to get me back to the mansion. If I couldn't get one, I'd go to the airfield and set up my command post.

Finally, about 0830, Digger found me another helo. I grabbed my radioman and headed for the flight deck. The Blackhawk that had just brought in the casualties from the prison was getting a hot refuel. My radioman and I jumped on board. I grabbed a headset and told the pilot I wanted to get back to the governor general's mansion. A medic from our Army counterpart unit who had come in with the helo leaned in and asked me if I minded him coming along. I said, “Hell, no—get in.” We lifted off and headed for the island.

I told the pilot to circle off the radio station: I wanted to try to contact Kim to see how he was doing. We tried both the MX-360 and the SATCOM radios, but there was no response and now I was getting really worried. Given the resistance the Rangers had encountered at the airfield, what were my guys facing? On the
Guam
I had learned the pilot who flew Kim in hadn't reported taking any fire, so I knew they were on the ground okay but that was all I knew. We circled for twenty minutes while my radioman and I tried everything we knew to contact them. Finally we gave up and I told the pilot to head for the governor general's mansion. He flatly refused, saying another helo had been shot down near there and he'd received orders to go to the airfield to support the Rangers. At this point, I figured one fight was as good as another and the best place for me to influence the action was at Point Salines airfield. That's where the Joint Headquarters advance control element would be located, and there I could get support for my troops at both targets.

As we landed at the airfield, I heard scattered small-arms fire. The Rangers were still fighting, but C-141s were landing. My third assault team, led by Lieutenant Steve Seigel, had landed and were all sitting on the ground near the runway with the XO, wondering what to do. After a quick briefing they started planning a way to get to the governor general by road.

I left them to it and went to look for the Joint Headquarters command post, which turned out to be in an unfinished building next to the unfinished control tower. There, the Joint Headquarters operations chief in charge of the CP told me the plan had fallen apart. The lead battalion from the 82nd Airborne was supposed to be on the ground, but he didn't know where they were. The Rangers mopping up had found mortar positions without weapons all around the airport. Apparently the Cuban “engineers” hadn't had a chance to man them, or we might not have been there. He suggested I talk with a Ranger battalion commander about help getting to the governor general's house.

Chief Dennis (Denny) Johnson, the assault team's senior enlisted man, came up and told me they'd managed to establish MX-360 communications with Duke at the governor general's place. I said “great.” The MX-360 had a transmission range of about five miles over water. Any trees or buildings between us would have reduced that considerably. Fortunately, the airfield was about three miles as the crow flies across a small bay from the mansion in the hills surrounding the bay. We could hear Duke loud and clear.

He told us they had everything under control. Two of the guys had received minor dings during the helo flight, but there had been no friendly KIA and no serious wounds. The troops holding the area had simply thrown down their weapons when they saw our guys. One of Duke's men had shot and killed two uniformed soldiers who were coming in the gate to the grounds, but he didn't think anyone had heard the shots; at the moment all was quiet. As for the governor and his wife, they were unharmed and in good spirits.

Suddenly, though, three armored personnel carriers appeared at the front gate of the mansion. Duke said they were just looking at the moment, and he had told his guys not to fire.

I got real worried. We had enough men in the mansion to resist a good-sized infantry force, but they didn't have the weapons to deal with Soviet BTR-60s. I ran to the Joint Headquarters CP and told the operations chief I needed air support at the mansion,
now.
He told his guys to get an Air Force AC-130 gunship overhead. The gunship was a modified C-130 troop transport, with 20mm cannons, a 105mm howitzer, and a lot of ammo—basically, a fixed-wing weapons platform.

My radioman ran up to report that Duke had just called: the BTR-60s were trying to enter the gate. Duke was still holding fire because they hadn't yet fired and he didn't want to start anything without air support. I told him an AC-130 would be overhead in five minutes.

Unfortunately, the group's SATCOM had never made it out of the helo, so we'd have to set up a radio relay—we were the only ones who could talk to Duke with the MX-360. The operations chief suggested we contact the AC-130 with a PRC-77, a rugged military VHF radio that had been around since Vietnam. Army helicopter gunships and the AC-130 gunship used VHF as the primary means of coordinating close-air support. We didn't have one, but our army counterpart unit did. This was our relay system: Duke called us on the MX-360; our radioman turned to our Army counterpart unit's radioman and passed the message; the Army radioman relayed to the gunship over his PRC-77.

By now, the AC-130 gunship had started circling slowly 10,000 feet over the mansion, like a hawk flying slowly above its intended prey. The AC-130 was well above the range of the antiaircraft guns, and so far no ground-to-air missiles had been fired at any of our aircraft—apparently the Grenadans had neglected to get any from the Cubans. The BTRs were now inside the gate, headed slowly for the house, as if they weren't sure what to do. The first one got nailed by 20mm cannons from the AC-130 just as he was swinging his turret toward the mansion. The next two were hit immediately afterward. Duke brought the gunship's fire to within twenty meters of the mansion's front door. The BTRs probably didn't know what hit them. I got more comfortable, but we weren't out of the woods yet. At least Duke had control of his situation.

I began to think that the bad guys didn't know what was going on at the mansion, and that as long as Duke lay low they couldn't be sure we had anyone in there. We kept the gunship overhead. The situation was stabilized—as long as Duke's radio batteries lasted.

Meanwhile, Denny Johnson had been looking for a better place for our CP. For the sake of reliable communications with Duke, we needed to be higher. Steve's assault team took over an abandoned house overlooking the airfield, with a line of sight to the mansion. By this time I figured the best place for me to be was at the operations chief's elbow, since he controlled all the assets I needed to support Duke. So I kept in touch with my CP by MX-360 and shuttled between it and the Joint Headquarters' CP for the duration.

 

The Ranger battalion commander had agreed to help my guys get Duke and his charges out of the mansion and to Salines airfield; his guys and mine were planning the operation. The operations chief said we probably couldn't get too far outside the airfield before encountering real resistance, and to underscore the point a report came in that a BTR-60 had penetrated Ranger defenses on the east end of the runway and was headed our way.

We heard a loud explosion—a young Ranger sergeant had nailed the BTR with his shoulder-fired 75mm recoilless rifle. After the BTR attack, the operations chief said he wanted to keep most of the Rangers at the airfield for security. Since we figured it would take all of the Rangers plus my reserve assault team to break through to the governor general's mansion, I abandoned that plan. We had Duke covered with the AC-130, but I still had to figure out a way to get through to the guys at the radio station, and the reserve assault team would probably have to do it.

By this time the commanding general was on the ground. He assessed the situation, took one of the operable Blackhawks, and flew to the flagship to meet with the task force commander. The Marines had encountered no resistance and were looking for something to do, so he convinced the commander to commit a reinforced Marine company to relieve Duke. They would make an amphibious landing that night and be at the house by early the next morning. I passed the news to Duke and told him we'd keep an AC-130 over his head until the Marines got there. He said, “No sweat.”

At this point I was really proud of Duke. He had seen action in Vietnam and had been decorated for bravery, but in this situation he'd been more than brave—he'd been smart and cool. He had correctly assessed the situation and figured as long as he didn't open fire he'd probably be left alone. He'd also figured out that the bad guys didn't know what was going on. In fact, I later learned that the police chief, who was aligned with the Communists, had called the house to ask if everything was okay. The governor general's wife took the call and told him they were fine. When the police chief said he would send some of his troops over to “protect” them, she said he needn't bother, because they were already being protected by “a large number of extremely well armed men.”

 

I'd had no radio contact with Kim since he'd inserted. Two AH-6 helo gunships I'd sent up to the radio station during the day had drawn heavy ground fire. Kim had obviously pulled out, but to where? As darkness—cover—approached, we got ready to try again. Our reserve assault team would go by helo to the radio station to look for Kim.

As the force cleared the runway, I got word that Kim and his men were being picked up at sea by the task force ships. Involved in heavy fighting soon after they hit the ground, they'd been constrained to pull back from the radio station by a larger force equipped with a BTR-60. Kim and one of his men had been wounded. After lying near the coast until night, they had made their way off the island, and within an hour all were safe and sound. A weight lifted from my shoulders.

 

The Marines landed northeast of the governor general's house later that night, and carefully made their way to Duke's location, arriving just after daybreak. The governor general, his wife, and Duke's guys arrived by helo at the airfield about 0800. The governor general thanked me and said the SEALs had been perfect gentlemen; as soon as they burst through the front door, he knew he and his wife were safe. He said even the Grenadan soldiers seemed almost glad to see Duke, for they handed over their AK- 47s without protest.

Pat and his men came by boat from the destroyer to the airfield, stopping to pick up Kim's team. The operations chief had a C-141 waiting to take us back to the Joint Headquarters. We got there around 1700 on October 26, and headed for the isolation area to unwind and debrief.

 

After listening to war stories and drinking a few beers, Billy Acklin and I got a few hours' sleep. We got up at 0400 and headed back to our home base to begin the grim task of informing next of kin that, after two days of searching, we still could not find any of the four missing men. (I had the search continue for another day, to no avail.)

Notifying next of kin that their man is dead is the most difficult task I've ever had. All military wives live with the knowledge that their husbands may be killed—the nature of the military is to go in harm's way—and SEALs stand a greater risk than most. SEAL Team Six trained more realistically than the other SEAL Teams, and their wives knew we'd be the first to go to combat. Yet I doubt that any SEAL's wife ever really expects her husband to be killed, because she knows he's expert at his job. The minute my man's wife saw us, she knew. She took it as well as could be expected.

A
fter Urgent Fury, one of the first things I had to do was report to my Navy bosses about what we'd done during it. Then I had to solicit their assistance in solving the equipment, personnel, and funding problems highlighted in Urgent Fury. I went to the Pentagon to brief the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral James Watkins. I took Duke with me. He'd done a great job with the situation he was handed, and I wanted the admiral to meet one of the officers responsible for our success. After we briefed Admiral Watkins about Grenada, I gave him a “status of the command” report. I told him we needed help badly to procure essential equipment and to increase our allowance of SEALs and support personnel.

Admiral Watkins listened closely. After I finished, he told me that Urgent Fury had broken the ice on our use of the military after Vietnam, and I'd better be ready to do the same thing again somewhere else. He also told his staff to get me the equipment, people, and money I needed. And he went on to say we had done a fine job, considering the ad hoc nature of the operation and the obstacles we had to overcome. He was especially pleased with our action at the governor general's mansion.