Espionnage En Passant

Baumholder, West Germany, 1975

The Pawn

Charles Miller's favourite movie comedian was Mantan Moreland. He loved Mantan's 'good bad' routine where Mantan related some tragic fact to his straight man. When the straight man responded, 'that's bad', Mantan countered, 'No, that's good' and explained why. The straight man agreed, 'that is good', but Mantan replied, 'No, that's bad' and related why that was. The harried straight man agreed it was bad, then Mantan declared, 'No, that's good, because...'. The routine went on and on with the straight man ready for confinement in a mental institution. The 'good bad' routine was the template of Charlie's life in the United States Army, which was the largest mental institution in the world.

Charlie enlisted to be an intelligence analyst (good), but as he only recently turned seventeen, he was too young (bad). As his scores were high, he would be sent to Europe and sent to a 'special unit' (good). Since no one knew what to do with him, he was sent to the misfit 1st Battalion, 13th Infantry (Mechanised) and its own misfit Charlie Company (bad). Charlie in Charlie was assigned to its Headquarters Platoon (good).

The next move broke the pattern as it was another good one. His friend and mentor, 'C' Company's Training NCO, Staff Sergeant Kay was able to get him into a quasi-military intelligence billet as the Battalion's S-2 clerk.

A United States Army Infantry Battalion was separated into 'line' and staff. 'Line' were the soldiers that actually did things, in this case three rifle companies and a Combat Support Company just as a rifle company was divided into three rifle platoons and a weapons platoon. 'Staff' were the soldiers who provided support so 'line' could do their stuff. Staff manifested itself as a Headquarters platoon in a rifle company and as Headquarters and Headquarters Company (HHC) in the battalion.

The Staff sections were numbered one through four. S-1, who would be referred to as the Adjutant in the British Commonwealth forces, handled clerical personnel needs. S-4's equivalent in the Commonwealth was the Quartermaster who ensured required equipment and ammunition was readily available. The S-3 was the planning, operations and training section that made sure the Battalion had something to do and do it to a standard that ensured they were on the right track. S-2 was the Battalion's intelligence section. In wartime it was a crucial job that set the plans and operations of the battalion. In peacetime it was the least essential of the staff units, so it was given to those officers not in high demand to lead a line company or an important staff section but weren't incompetent enough to be kicked upstairs. The S-2, Captain Bishop, was a Vietnam experienced infantry officer like the rest of the other Captains in the Battalion, but...it was deemed he would be most of use as the S-2, with the joke being his major qualifications for the job was that he was a keen reader and he bore a vague resemblance to Sean Connery.

The S-2's command was the scout platoon made up of 'smarter than the average bear' infantrymen and the S-2 clerk who did the administrative work, often by himself. The previous S-2 clerk was sent to his position because he had his foot run over by one of the battalion's M-113 Armoured Personnel Carriers. No one knew how he had accomplished that feat with his feet until one night when he was sleepwalking, he informed the NCO acting as Charge of Quarters that he tried to kill himself by throwing himself under the APC. At the very last minute he reconsidered the matter that saved his life, but made him unable to march.

The joke about the S-2 clerk was that the reason that he did as much work as two men was because he was schizophrenic. A highly intelligent man but highly strung, the S-2 clerk performed well until once again his Mr. Depressive conquered his Mr. Manic and he made another unsuccessful suicide bid. With a vacancy, S/Sgt. Kay built up Charles to his S-3 who told the S-2. Charles' rapid promotion to Specialist 4th Class, his high intelligence scores, being one of the few in the battalion with no criminal record or use of illegal narcotics and/or excess of alcohol, his showing continued interest in the Warsaw Pact forces and the interesting fact that he was the most internationally travelled enlisted man of the battalion led Captain Bishop to make Charles his S-2 clerk after a successful interview. No one else wanted the job.

The 'good' of Charles moving to HHC was balanced by the 'bad' of their having the meanest First Sergeant in the Battalion, a German National with the joke that he had been rejected by the SS for being too brutal. Prior to Charles' move, Captain Bishop told him that since HHC's barracks was beyond its capacity, Charles would be the first single enlisted man in anyone's memory to be paid a separate allowance to live off the base, the highest good of all.

Charles took to his new job like a duck to water and everyone was happy. He performed so well that he was invited to dine off duty with Captain Bishop and his ultra-petit fiancée, Captain Sandra McQueen. Though she appeared kind, highly intelligent and enjoyed Charles' quips and their comparing each other's travels, Charles felt that he was under her microscope.

* * *

Some weeks later Charles was called into the S-2's office to say that he had some good news and some bad news. The latter was that the former S-2 clerk had been released from the hospital and observation but was again denied an early discharge. He threatened suicide again if he wasn't able to return to being S-2 clerk; the army doctors insisted on that as 'occupational therapy'. The S-2 related his Catch 22 argument with the military doctor; the Captain was worried that the clerk would kill himself again in the performance of his duties, the Doctor responded that he would kill himself if he was not able to return to his duties since he would not be discharged or institutionalised. The S-2 asked the Doctor why they didn't give the clerk a discharge after several suicide attempts. The Doctor became angry and said,

'This is the army, Captain! We don't give everyone what they want!'

The Doctor informed Captain Bishop that he was under orders to return the clerk to duty, and if he refused, he would face charges for discriminating against a mentally ill person. He advised the S-2 to respond to the clerk's return by being extra kind and complimentary, not giving him too high or too small of a workload, and keeping large sterile field dressings in a hidden location so it would not alarm the clerk if he saw them, but would be at hand if the clerk slashed his wrists. The Doctor recommended Scotchgarding the carpet so the blood stains wouldn't cause damage. The S-2 asked if the medical brains trust really believed that military intelligence was the right place for a suicidal schizophrenic? The Doctor responded that a military intelligence unit was the best place as they were used to keeping things confidential, and intelligence was where they sent people where they could cause no harm.

Charles recalled one of Staff Kay's jungle war stories about his own military intelligence unit being so secret that none of the members knew what they were doing.

The good news was that Charles was going to be sent on confidential Temporary Duty that he could speak to no one about.

The Queen

Charles reported to an office at a far-off area of his Baumholder military base and entered what looked like a wooden building erected in the 1950s. A female voice told him to enter.

It was none other than Captain Sandra McQueen who was also attired in a dress green uniform, though now she was wearing spectacles. As opposed to Charles' 'idiot sticks' crossed rifles of the infantry lapel insignia with light blue backing and a matching shoulder cord, her branch of service insignia was the Military Intelligence Corps. He recalled Staff Kay's description of the badge as a pansy resting on its laurels with the knife in the back speaking for itself.

He saluted and reported.

She launched a long hostile tirade that he couldn't figure out what he had done to deserve it, or why it was relevant. He heard Mantan's voice in his head telling him 'Uh oh, that's bad'. His older mentors had told him that you could have the best job in the world, but if you had an awful boss, it would be hell. She was like all his pissed off teachers wrapped into one. Captain Bishop was in for a rude awakening after his marriage; after he said 'I do', he'd be done...

Captain Blighette seemed to have come to a climax.

'Do you think you can work under a woman?'

'Why not, Ma'am?'

She removed her glasses and broke into a warm smile.

'From now on you're My Man Friday; I'll call you "Freitag". Would you like some coffee or tea?'

'Tea would be fine, Ma'am.'

Mantan-in-his-Mind said, 'that's good!'

After pouring their tea the first thing she said was expressing her disappointment that Charles had a fresh haircut. He replied that he always has a fresh haircut when he reported to a new duty station. She said from now on he would work in civilian clothes, and not have a haircut nor a shave, and they would go shopping where she would select a 'sanitised outfit'.

When asked what his new duties would be, she replied that they would be anything she told him to do, and he would tell no one else what he was doing.

He read between the lines that her tirade had been a test. She confided (confidant seemed to be his number one duty) that she was looked down on by her peers in her trade for being a woman.

'They think espionage is a man's job.'

'Are we involved in espionage, Ma'am?'

She sipped her tea.

'Only in passing.'

McQueen's Gambit

The pair were dressed in their 'sanitised' clothes of German made clothing, down to their underwear. Though Levis denim jeans were in fashion in Europe, McQueen felt that they looked 'too American'. Charles felt like a clown, not only because of the wide flared trousers and colourful shirt and jacket, but he was wearing a wig that would cover his military haircut. McQueen's outfit suit her, and her trench coat looked quite smart.

The pair drove to Luxembourg where she eventually revealed that she would be meeting a radical student anti-American group, in some sort of independent project.

Mantan-in-his-Mind said, 'So far, so good!'

Rather than explaining her mission, she was on and on about her favourite topic of her male peers not understanding nor willing to engage in any dialogue. She believed she alone could turn the group to the advantage of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation.

The only male besides Charles and hopefully her fiancée that she liked was her leader, Mr. Knight. Charles liked the taciturn man as well; he always had a wry smile on his face and warm fatherly eyes. On this mission, Mr. Knight remained in Germany with both McQueen and Charles reporting to him.

Though the pair had both made frequent excursions to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, neither one had ever been to their destination of what was called the Grund, or what Charles called Lower Luxembourg. They descended downwards to the depths of a grotty traditional looking residential area far below the modern capital city; he thought of Hell.

She pointed out a house with loud music blaring out of it.

'That's the house where they are, they invited me to meet them, and we would talk about America. I'm meeting one of them at a café; I believe he'll bring me here to meet all of them, he trusts me.'

She ordered him to wait at their own café rendezvous in the upper city. If she wasn't back by 2200 hours, he was to contact Mr. Knight immediately.

'Why do you think that you can get through to them?'

'They're young and impressionable, like you are...they've only heard lies about America. I can get through to them and make them understand.'

Mantan-in-his-Mind informed him, 'Feet do your stuff, this is baaaad!'

* * *

A young European student came into the café holding the largest red and white striped bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken that he had ever seen in his life. He knew Colonel Sanders had started appearing in Europe from the late 1960s, but he had never seen a bucket that large that would hold enough pieces of chicken for the entire family. Maybe it was an Andy Warhol type work of art?

'Maria says to bring this to her home.'

He placed the bucket on the table then turned and left. Charles knew that McQueen was using 'Maria' as her cover name on the assignment.

* * *

He reported that he had lost contact with McQueen. Mr. Knight ordered him to come to Germany and bring the bucket to him.

'What's in it?'

'I didn't look.'

He carefully opened the large chicken bucket with Colonel Sanders smiling face boasting it was 'Finger lickin' good'. Knight removed a heavy plastic bag, that contained another heavy plastic bag, and another, to reveal Sandra McQueen's severed head.

* * *

Checkmate

It appeared that just like his S-2's Scout Platoon, Knight and McQueen had their own super soldiers. These ones were in working men's civilian clothing with longer hair and facial hair, but Charles could see in their eyes without any doubt that they were highly experienced Vietnam veteran Special Forces men.

Only one of them introduced himself to Charles, their leader who called himself King.

Driving to the Grund in a Volkswagen Kombi, Charles led them to the building with loud music still blaring that McQueen pointed out.

Upon arrival, King's team produced small packs containing what Charles recognised as MAC-10 Ingram submachine guns with sound suppressors as big as the weapon or its magazines. The team carried a shoulder bag of spare magazines and a strange item that King explained was a battering ram.

'She said she wanted to teach them about America; she said she could get through to them', Charles wistfully recalled.

'That's just what we're going to do', King replied. 'we're going to teach them all about America, and we're going to get through to them by going through them...'

The team cocked their weapons and left the vehicle to advance to the house.

From the passenger seat, Charles watched the team break down the door with the battering ram and enter with their weapons. He heard shouts and a scream or two, but all became silence.

He noticed a young European walking up to the building, Charles wondered whether he should beep the horn to alert the inside team, but the young male ran away from the door in panic. He was unaware that Charles was in the van as Charles thrust the door open straight in the passing young man's path where he took full impact. Charles leapt out of the car, spun the reeling man around and placed his right forearm against the man's neck grabbing the joint of his left arm with his left arm pushing against the back of European's head, then he leapt to the ground. The European of Charles' approximate age tried to struggle by unsuccessfully trying to remove Charles' arms from their terminal stranglehold. He reached down to his waist and was pulling out something, Charles leant over pinning him face down to the ground making him unable to produce what was in his waistband. Though he ceased to move. Charles kept up his stranglehold.

'Hey.'

Charles looked up to see King staring at him.

'He went to the house, then started to run. I used my judgement to stop him.'

Charles released the now dead body, King rolled him over to check for vital signs that didn't exist and saw that there was a small calibre automatic pistol in his grip, Charles pinning him to the ground had prevented him from pulling it.

'Can you give us a hand? Bring him with you.'

Charles and the dead man he carried accompanied King into a room with a variety of young dead European student bodies, two of them female. He stopped to look at one of them who was missing some fingers and had a look of horror on his dead face.

King explained, 'He was dead when his fingers were removed. We needed them for fingerprints.'

The rest of the team laughed loudly. One quipped,

'Yeah, he was dead all right. He was screaming and crying and begging for his life but you just know how those commie punks lie!'

Charles joined their laughter.

'Freitag bagged one himself, with his bare hands! The punk saw what you were up to and got the hell out of Dodge, but Our Man Flint here sideswiped him and strangled him. He was packing a pistol too.'

All of the team paused from placing the corpses in sheets of heavy clear polythene and gave smiles and words of approval. Charles never felt prouder in his life.

'We sacrificed McQueen to get all the group together. Our intelligence said they were on the verge of attacking an American base.'

King put his hand on Charles' shoulder.

I'll bet you were as fond of her as she told us she was fond of you. We never thought they'd kill her, though...Where are you going after this, Freitag?'

'I don't know. I don't want to go back to my infantry battalion.'

King looked at his team who nodded their heads.

'Freitag, how'd you like to join us?'

FIN

Author Notes: Happy Chinese New Year, Tiger!
I am the author of three Extra Dimensional/Ultraterrestial military science fiction novels MERCENARY EXOTIQUE, OPERATION CHUPACABRA and WORK IN OTHER WORLDS FROM YOUR OWN HOME! as well as two travel books THE MAN FROM WAUKEGAN and TWO AUSTRALIANS IN SCOTLAND (all from Lulu.com). I live happily ever after with my wife in paradise (coastal Kiama, NSW Australia).

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