Episode 74

3rd Battalion, 67th Armor

Camp Humphreys, South Korea

Major Lucas entered Lieutenant Colonel Hernandez’s office with a message in his hand and a grim expression on his face.

“I assume those are our activation orders.”

“Yes sir, just came down from command.”

Hernandez took the offered form. “And?”

“Sorry, sir?”

“You don’t look happy. What do they say?”

“It’s plan bravo sir.”

“Plan bravo? Didn’t we discuss this with the general?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dammit. Bravo is a recipe for disaster. There is no way in hell the assumptions are correct.” Unlike Hernandez’s favored plan, “Plan Bravo” assumed that airpower would be able to essentially neutralize the DMZ to the point where the US Army backed up by South Korean units would be able to cross essentially uncontested. “The North has been burying shit over there for over thirty years. They could have entire divisions down there and we wouldn’t know it.”

“The plan is to have the B-52’s link up with JSTARS to take out any mobile units.”

“At least that part is smart. If it moves, it dies. No, Tom. That’s not my worry. Plan Bravo assumes that there is only a half-mile of minefield beyond the DMZ because that’s what the south has over here. That’s bullshit. I’m betting the whole damn country is wired for at LEAST two miles from the frontier.”

“Sir, there is farming activity there.”

“So what? Do you really think the fat man gives two shits about killing a farmer accidentally? He murdered his own uncle! “

“Yes, I see your point.”

“Tell me honestly Tom. If I’m going to buck these orders I need you at my back. Do you agree that Bravo is the right choice here?”

“Hell NO! We gamed this out. If we get the all-clear from the SF guys, we go with Charlie. It’s a no-brainer.”

“Right. So, let’s stir up some shit. Let’s see how clearly I can tell a General that he’s being a dumbass without getting busted down to private.”

Hernandez picked up one of the phones in his desk and dialed a number. “Jimmy? It’s Louis. What kinda mood is the General in?” He paused, listening to the General’s aide on the other end. “Hmm. OK. I’ll bring a bottle. I need thirty minutes with him. No, it better be 1:1. Yeah, it’s that kind of talk. Hey! That’s not fair. The last time I only got a VERBAL reprimand.” Lucas could hear the laugh on the other end. “No, I will not give you odds.” He put down the phone with a feral grin. “I told you that Bulliet bourbon my wife sent over was worth saving. Wish me luck.” Hernandez opened up a lower drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle which he tucked under his arm. “Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more.”

“Give ’em hell, sir.”

Several hours later, Hernandez walked back into his office. His gait unnaturally straight, his eyes slightly glassy.

“You OK sir?”

“Nothing that a West Point man can’t handle Tom.”

“What did the General say?”

“He said, ‘If you like plan Charlie so much, you can bet your life and your men’s life on it.’“

“What? Does he expect us to execute an attack on North Korea all on our own?”

“No, he expects the Brigade to exploit any openings provided by the SF folks while the other six brigades execute plan bravo. Third Batallion will be at the fore.”

“Uh, so we are leading the invasion?”

“Yeah. I feel sorry for the other brigades. Poor bastards.”