Rebels of Mindanao (28 page)

“OK. Get me Manila on a secure connection.” Liu could not wait any longer.

His call was put through to Martin Galan immediately, who told him right off, “I have this from the President, Reggie, take your task force and move now and wipe them all out. We may have political costs to pay later for going on a punitive expedition, but political memories fade quickly, and a breakaway state may stay broken away for a long time. We need to move now and be decisive. CNN is making us look like fools.”

Liu answered with a “Yes, sir,” and once again saw either promotion to his first star and a probable fast track to more promotions after that,
or disgrace and perhaps even jail time if the Abu Sayaf were not defeated. Galan could later deny he had authorized what some might consider extralegal or even unconstitutional methods that resulted in the loss of life, whether of Philippine soldiers or innocent indigenous tribe people.

“I'm counting on you. I'm on my way to the presidential palace now, and I can keep things quiet for a while. What do you need to get the job done quickly?” Galan was now talking on his cell phone from inside his car; Liu could hear Manila traffic puffing and beeping in the background.

“I need firepower. I need boots on the ground, lots of them. And I need artillery. The quicker you can get them to me, the quicker I can execute your orders.”

“OK, I'll handle it. Keep the road behind you open.”

“Roger, out,” Liu responded and returned to his meeting.

It fell on Colonel Liu as the Task Force commander to state realistically to his captains how he saw their current situation. He stood up and started to speak in his military academy lecture voice again, “The Abu Sayaf, the MNLF, NPA, NFD, CPP, MILF, ICI, BILF and the rest of that alphabet soup of loosely related groups of obscure and hopeless causes have achieved some degree of unity. If they can organize and coordinate, and formulate realistic political objectives, they could actually win independence. Mindanao is in rebellion!” Liu ended his lecture, sat down, and changed the tone of his voice to outline his objective for the coming battle.

“We must attack and severely degrade the ability of the insurgents to conduct war. Foreign terrorists are fighting a civil war against our law-biding citizens, tricking them into an alliance they do not understand. We must defeat their ability to control the countryside. We need to make them hurt so much that they will not try to revolt again.” He could not mince words; the officers immediately subordinate to him had to understand that he did not want to take prisoners, but he could not say that directly.

Major Hayes had walked into the tent. When Liu stopped speaking, and the other officers had left, he addressed the colonel, “Well spoken, sir. If I may give my opinion, you know I am here only as an observer.

But I can encourage you. I heard our president speak to your congress last year. He told them that our two nations have made the choice together to defend ourselves and not to be intimidated by terrorists. This Abu Sayaf group pretends to act for God, but no religion tolerates murder. My country supports your effort to wipe them out. But you did not hear that from me. And you will never hear it from our ambassador.”

“Thank you, Major Hayes.” Liu leaned back in the folding chair that Master Sergeant Rivera had brought out for him. “My superiors in Manila have informed me of actions taken by the U.S. to cut off fund transfers to Abu Sayaf leaders and to block their bank accounts. That makes the insurgency desperate for the money shipment moving in now. They will resolutely defend it.”

Hayes pulled up a chair, unhooked his armored vest and sat down. “I think you have your forces spread too thinly. Consider massing against specific targets. Make it difficult for them to survive in the jungle.”

“We try to surround NPA units whenever we locate them, Major, but they disperse swiftly. They go back to their farms and villages, and hide their guns.” Liu was telling the American advisor the simple facts. “They operate in small and isolated units, you know.”

“Yes, I know, Colonel, but not this time. I have new intelligence for you. General Hargens asked me to pass it on. The NPA is pulling out of the triangle. STAGCOM tracked them.”

“If true, that's a new tactic for them, moving together and coordinated.”

“Yes, it is. You need to improve your maneuverability; don't just stay on the highways. But right now, you know where they are, so go after them before they all move out of the triangle.”

Liu reminded Hayes, “The communist insurgency has been resilient. We push, they give way, then the rebels snap back when we leave an area. But I think something is changing. If an elite NPA force is massing around Itig, they're changing their focus and will engage in mass attacks.”

Hayes thought about the bigger political picture. Peace negotiations between the MNLF and the Philippine government had been going on endlessly. Now generations had passed since the Philippines had actually fought together with the Americans against a common enemy, the Japanese, which united them. But after the end of World War II, the most recent of three generations of Filipino Christians and Muslims
fought each other and the jostling for power did not satisfy either party. “Your rebels here are getting impatient for change. They've been fighting you for a long time, and now even talk between you has stopped. They'll try something new.” Hayes thought it was a good time to lay it all on the table.

“I can't help that; the insurgents unilaterally backed out of the peace negotiations. And then they changed their mission and their methods,” the colonel responded.

“OK, but the AFP has 80,000 infantry soldiers throughout the country available for combat, and supporting units such as artillery and combat engineers, against only 7,000 NPA. What does it take? What's wrong with you?” Hayes, the advisor and observer, would have liked to have had an overwhelming advantage like that when he went into combat in past conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.

“I hear your message, Major.” The tone of his voice when he said ‘Major” contained more than polite impatience. “Maybe now, for the first time, you will see what the AFP can do.” For the rest of the briefing, the American major was silent while Colonel Liu made his plans.

Shortly after noon, Liu was satisfied, he wouldn't wait for reinforcements. He dismissed his men after ordering them, “Move at the times I have assigned; Bautista and your company, just after nightfall. Agustin, be ready before sun-up tomorrow. Now, go get your men ready. The time has come.”

A
t the Task Force Davao command post beside the road, a dog barked someplace in the dark. It would soon be dawn. Colonel Liu put on his fatigue uniform, packed up his combat gear, pushed aside the canvas flaps and left his tent. He had already been awake for two hours, knowing he should be resting but not able to sleep. During his operational briefing the day before, Liu had assigned the troops available to him into two strike forces, each led by one of his experienced infantry captains and consisting of about 150 riflemen. Now it was time for action.

Major Hayes saw Liu walking across the packed-down, moist mud between their tents and approached him. He surprised his older ally with a sincere compliment, “Colonel Liu, I want to tell you, I respect your professionalism and wish you well today.”

“Thank you. I've lived through years of disillusionment—Filipinos fighting Filipinos. Perhaps that can end soon. You're welcome to follow
the action, but don't get involved.” The ground rules could not be repeated too often.

As task force commander, Liu did not want to mix Americans together with the Philippine troops. He didn't want CNN to report this as a joint operation; in fact, he hoped they would not report it at all. If he achieved a well-publicized victory over the Abu Sayaf, it would call attention to the fact that the struggle continued and that stability in Mindanao was a myth. And obviously a reported defeat at the hands of the insurgents would be far worse.

Liu might put up with STAGCOM. He could find a job for them; Thornton had some firepower, and STAGCOM could disappear quickly. It would cost him nothing to employ the Americans; they had their own incentives and objectives. Thank God they were in the bush and out of his way at the moment; he would not have any explaining to do no matter what happened. Major Hayes did not bother him; he could tag along and “observe.”

“Right, sir,” Hayes replied to Liu's request to lay low. “I understand; I won't be noticed.” Hayes had worked with Filipino officers in the field before and knew well the limitations placed upon him by the Status of Forces Agreement between the U.S. and the Philippines. Leading a team of American Green Berets during training exercises the previous year, he had instructed Filipinos in small unit tactics and knew the score. From his perspective, Hayes thought his most difficult task in the past had been getting the trainees to act like alert, seasoned professional soldiers rather than the tired veterans who had been engaged in anti-insurgency operations for ten years or more, with hardly any chance to visit their families. The Filipino soldier looked with envy at his police counterpart who was a civilian with an 8-to-5 job, so it turned out to be an even greater task to teach them to appreciate the fact that the best time to attack might be at night or near dawn and that they had to get out into the rain sometimes.

Marksmanship, map reading, and learning how to create and execute an operations order proved to be easier than changing their philosophy about what a soldier does—duty versus free time. Hayes had marveled at the Filipino soldier's acceptance of duty. Duty meant hardship–traveling on foot because vehicles and even roads were limited; food was
cold rations because cooking fires were easily seen; the farther the scene of encounter, the greater distance back to camp with the dead and wounded. But the Filipino soldier was a social animal—even in the boondocks, an Army encampment was always noisy and happy at night.

The result of months of training by Special Forces teams had yielded measurable improvement in mission accomplishment and overcoming basic bad habits. The U.S. gave the AFP rangers and elite paratroop units new rifles and combat gear, and marksmanship improved. Many of their old rifles were left over from the Vietnam era, and their constant use since then had worn smooth the rifling inside the barrels, so bullets would not pick up the spin they needed to follow a true trajectory to their target. The Americans also turned over to the Philippine Army older radios after the U.S. forces upgraded their own equipment, and issued the Filipinos night vision equipment. Now there could be no excuses, no more playing games and singing songs until bedtime. Hayes knew that the Filipinos had personal integrity, but they had to learn the art of war.

Like his commander, Captain Agustin was unable to sleep and was up early preparing for the mission. His company had the shortest distance to move and therefore would not push off from their present position until just before dawn, very soon now. It was almost time to wake his men. He passed Hayes and Liu on his way to the long row of tents where his troops were still sleeping. Major Hayes saluted him. “Kick ass today, Agustin!”

“Will do, Hayes.” It might have seemed an insignificant moment, but Agustin would always include it when in his old age he retold the story of what happened that day, for they would never meet again.

Captain Agustin told his sergeants to roust the soldiers from their tents and whistled awake those who had covered themselves with camouflage cloths or mosquito nets. The posturing of Task Force Davao at its encampment was observed by new NPA recruits headed into the triangle, civilian-clad inductees on their way to report to Kumander Ali. They walked or biked directly past the Philippine Army soldiers bivouacked along the road between the Alah and the Banga. Farther north in the triangle, when they met Kumander Ali, they reported what they had seen, continuously updating his intelligence on the enemy.

Liu had no concerns about giving his position away. It was part of his plan to let the NPA leaders think that he was remaining in a fixed position, and he encouraged his troops to make noise while they prepared for the day. He was about to execute what he hoped would be a clever feint.

Ali's men had not observed TFD's B Company pull out just after dark the night before, and the remaining troops made enough commotion to hide their absence. Captain Bautista had moved his company of infantry out of camp two miles west. Using stealth, it had taken them all night circling north to move into position, but by the beginning of early morning half-light they had rotated to approach Ali's camp from its right flank. Before dawn the NPA camp lay directly in front of them. B Company formed into a firing line extending 100 yards from north to south and held their position far enough away from the NPA camp to avoid contact with Ali's outposts, not alert in any case at this hour.

The sleeping mujahadeen thought that the noisy army troops scattered along the road to their south were the only enemy they had to worry about, and were not overly concerned; it was too early in the day for their adversaries to get to work, they thought.

Under Captain Agustin, A Company's primary mission was to make noise, and not to get anybody killed. Any deaths would be certain to make the Manila news at noon and the CNN late report in the U.S. Eastern Time Zone, which would be bad politics. Just as soon as they could see morning mist replace the coal black night air, about thirty minutes before sunrise, they began firing their weapons sporadically, and everything else they had, from the side of the road in the general direction of Ali's camp. They were too far away to hit anyone except by accident, but they achieved the desired effect. The firing woke up Ali and his groups of followers, and after the NPA soldiers grabbed their rifles, machetes, sticks or ammo boxes they moved toward the source of the firing, their heads ducked. Agustin's men fired all the ammo they had loaded; then fell back in an orderly fashion, withdrawing to the line of their departure and off the field of battle. Just as the sun rose they returned across the road and into a defensive perimeter around Colonel Liu's position, his radio operator and immediate headquarters staff.