A Green Beret's True Story of His Jack Lawson with Sully de Fontaine
A Green Beret's True Story of His Jack Lawson with Sully de Fontaine
A Green Beret's True Story of His Jack Lawson with Sully de Fontaine
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TMBWFS(’T<br />
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A <strong>Green</strong> Beret’s <strong>True</strong> <strong>Story</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>His</strong><br />
CLASSIFIED MISSION in The Congo<br />
<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>Lawson</strong><br />
<strong>with</strong> <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong><br />
HELLGATE PRESS ASHLAND, OREGON
SLAVER’S WHEEL<br />
©2012 <strong>Jack</strong> <strong>Lawson</strong>/<strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong><br />
Published by Hellgate Press<br />
(An imprint <strong>of</strong> L&R Publishing, LLC)<br />
All rights reserved. No part <strong>of</strong> this publication may be reproduced<br />
or used in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical,<br />
including photocopying, recording, taping, or information and retrieval<br />
systems <strong>with</strong>out written permission <strong>of</strong> the publisher. The views and opinions<br />
expressed herein are solely those <strong>of</strong> the authors and do not necessarily<br />
represent those <strong>of</strong> the publisher and/or its subsidiaries or imprints.<br />
Hellgate Press<br />
PO Box 3531<br />
Ashland, OR 97520<br />
www.hellgatepress.com<br />
Editing: Keith A. Rogers<br />
Cover <strong>de</strong>sign: L. Redding<br />
Library <strong>of</strong> Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data<br />
<strong>Lawson</strong>, <strong>Jack</strong>.<br />
Slaver's wheel : a <strong>Green</strong> <strong>Beret's</strong> true story <strong>of</strong> his classified mission<br />
in the Congo / <strong>Jack</strong> <strong>Lawson</strong>, <strong>with</strong> <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>. -- 1st ed.<br />
p. cm.<br />
ISBN 978-1-55571-720-9<br />
1. Congo (Democratic Republic)--<strong>His</strong>tory--Civil War, 1960-1965. 2.<br />
Political violence--Congo (Democratic Republic) 3. <strong>Fontaine</strong>, <strong>Sully</strong><br />
<strong>de</strong>. 4. United States. Army. Special Forces. 5. Military missions. I.<br />
<strong>Fontaine</strong>, <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong>. II. Title.<br />
DT658.22.L39 2012<br />
967.51031--dc23<br />
2012046682<br />
Printed and bound in the United States <strong>of</strong> America<br />
First edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
To the memory <strong>of</strong> American soldiers, unsung warriors <strong>of</strong> the continuing<br />
fight for freedom. They are gone but not forgotten: Sergeant First Class<br />
Stefan Mazak and Captain Albert V. “Jake the Snake” Clement, U.S.<br />
Army Special Forces.
CONTENTS<br />
Foreword..........ix<br />
Preface..........xi<br />
Introduction..........xvii<br />
2<br />
Behind the Wheel..........1<br />
3<br />
Unjust Rumor..........5<br />
4<br />
The Silence <strong>of</strong> Inkisi..........13<br />
4<br />
Flexing Muscle..........21<br />
6<br />
Early Congo <strong>His</strong>tory..........29<br />
7<br />
Free State Fables..........35<br />
8<br />
The Legend..........45<br />
9<br />
Lighting the Fire..........55<br />
:<br />
Fire Power..........63<br />
21<br />
New I<strong>de</strong>ntities..........69<br />
22<br />
Flying into Hell..........75<br />
23<br />
Bullet Holes..........81<br />
24<br />
Before D-Day..........87<br />
25<br />
After D-Day..........105<br />
26<br />
Aircraft Arrive..........113<br />
27<br />
Forward March..........133<br />
28<br />
On to Nioki..........139<br />
29<br />
Roadsi<strong>de</strong> Rescue..........151<br />
2:<br />
Overexposed..........155
31<br />
Tense Stand<strong>of</strong>f..........173<br />
32<br />
Jungle Monster..........181<br />
33<br />
Meeting Lumumba..........189<br />
34<br />
Witch Doctor..........197<br />
35<br />
Rescue Rece<strong>de</strong>s..........203<br />
36<br />
Confined to Quarters..........209<br />
37<br />
Peacekeepers Arrive..........213<br />
38<br />
Animal Crackers..........219<br />
39<br />
The French Communist Robert Solvay..........223<br />
3:<br />
Soap Box Serena<strong>de</strong>..........235<br />
41<br />
Name Game..........241<br />
42<br />
The Man Who Would Be King..........249<br />
43<br />
Friend and Faux..........255<br />
44<br />
On to Morocco..........261<br />
45<br />
Trouble Brewing..........269<br />
46<br />
Counting on Katanga..........277<br />
47<br />
Company Halt..........285<br />
48<br />
Head Hunters..........289<br />
49<br />
The Beat Goes On..........295<br />
Epilogue..........301<br />
Appendix..........311<br />
About the Authors..........333
“A soldier must seize every advantage to <strong>de</strong>feat his opponent.<br />
He must strike hard and strike swiftly but un<strong>de</strong>r all circumstances<br />
he must stand ready to protect the innocent and those<br />
too weak to <strong>de</strong>fend themselves.” —Martin<br />
The late Robin Moore, author <strong>of</strong> The <strong>Green</strong> Berets and some forty<br />
other books, had inten<strong>de</strong>d to write <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>’s story. The<br />
torch <strong>of</strong> that duty was passed to me after Moore’s <strong>de</strong>ath on February<br />
8, 2008. We hope we have forged a story that would have ma<strong>de</strong><br />
Robin Moore proud.<br />
Our goal was to capture experiences that could never be fully<br />
conveyed by anyone’s words to express the sights, sounds, smells<br />
and feel <strong>of</strong> the Congo in the summer <strong>of</strong> 1960.<br />
Failing that, we hope that this story honors the memory <strong>of</strong> these<br />
fearless and compassionate American soldiers.<br />
<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>Lawson</strong><br />
Las Vegas, Nevada
J first<br />
Foreword<br />
met <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong> in 1961 in Germany when I was an<br />
adviser to a 10th Special Forces Group exercise being run out<br />
<strong>of</strong> the Bad Tolz headquarters in Germany. From his first salute to<br />
his always polite and low-key conversation, I knew <strong>with</strong>out a doubt<br />
that <strong>Sully</strong> was a quiet pr<strong>of</strong>essional and a seasoned lea<strong>de</strong>r.<br />
Little did I know at the time that as a young man in his late teens<br />
he had been through some <strong>of</strong> the same British paratrooper schools<br />
where I had trained in England. From balloons at Ringway near<br />
Manchester he practiced for making night jumps into the farmlands<br />
<strong>of</strong> France, his homeland, to use his skills and knowledge <strong>of</strong> the<br />
French un<strong>de</strong>rground to rescue downed American pilots.<br />
My first encounter <strong>with</strong> <strong>Sully</strong> came a year after he had led a<br />
Special Forces team on a covert mission in the Congo to rescue<br />
missionaries and civilians who were at risk <strong>of</strong> being massacred by<br />
roving bands <strong>of</strong> militants spawned during that country’s in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce<br />
revolt.<br />
The gallant rescue by his three-man team remin<strong>de</strong>d me <strong>of</strong> the<br />
time near the end <strong>of</strong> World War II when the Office <strong>of</strong> Strategic<br />
Services tasked me <strong>with</strong> leading a prisoner-<strong>of</strong>-war humanitarian<br />
team to liberate Allied POWs held by the Japanese on Hainan, a<br />
large island in the South China Sea between China and Vietnam.<br />
Instead <strong>of</strong> trigger-happy rebels that <strong>Sully</strong> and his team tangled<br />
<strong>with</strong> in jungle pockets <strong>of</strong> the Congo, my team faced about 10,000<br />
arrogant Japanese soldiers who were unaware <strong>of</strong> the atomic bombs
x<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
dropped on their homeland and could not believe that there was<br />
any thought <strong>of</strong> <strong>de</strong>feat or surren<strong>de</strong>r on the part <strong>of</strong> their emperor.<br />
The troops living on Hainan Island lived well in a very pleasant climate.<br />
They were seldom un<strong>de</strong>r air attack and when one <strong>of</strong> the infrequent<br />
attackers showed up they were frequently shot down. The<br />
crew members who survived the crash would be para<strong>de</strong>d through<br />
the villages then executed in public.<br />
In squalid conditions <strong>of</strong> the Hainan prison compound, we were<br />
shocked to find hundreds <strong>of</strong> Dutch and Australian POWs, who unlike<br />
many <strong>of</strong> their comra<strong>de</strong>s, had survived starvation but were near <strong>de</strong>ath<br />
after three years <strong>of</strong> enslavement by their Japanese captors.<br />
Like the atrocities that <strong>Sully</strong>’s team would experience fifteen<br />
years later during their Congo rescue mission, flies rose as we approached<br />
prison huts where the stench <strong>of</strong> <strong>de</strong>ath prevailed.<br />
Saving one allied soldier from dying in a prison camp would be a<br />
small measure <strong>of</strong> success. Saving hundreds as we did was a resounding<br />
signal to the world that free people will prevail in an oppressed<br />
society as long as there is a government that will support the rescuers<br />
and give them the latitu<strong>de</strong> to do their jobs.<br />
That is why stories <strong>of</strong> these humanitarian missions by U.S. soldiers<br />
should never be forgotten or concealed in the classified libraries <strong>of</strong><br />
military history.<br />
MG John K. Singlaub (USA Ret.)<br />
Retired Army Major General John K. Singlaub’s wartime service has inclu<strong>de</strong>d<br />
Special Operations combat missions into Nazi occupied France and Japanese occupied<br />
China during World War II, and similar operations into communist occupied parts<br />
<strong>of</strong> Korea during the Korean War and later into communist occupied parts <strong>of</strong> South<br />
East Asia during the Vietnam War.
M arry<br />
Preface<br />
Devlin, Central Intelligence Agency station chief <strong>of</strong> the<br />
Congo during the Lumumba period, wrote the book Chief <strong>of</strong><br />
Station, Congo. The book mentioned no involvement <strong>of</strong> the U.S.<br />
Army Special Forces rescue operation prior to the United Nations’<br />
peacekeeping operations in the Congo. In my view, the book strays<br />
from the real causes <strong>of</strong> the unrest and problems in the Congo.<br />
I have always had the utmost praise and admiration for Larry<br />
Devlin as the CIA station chief during the first years after Congo<br />
In<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce. I took a personal liking to him. He was a first-class<br />
intelligence chief and after he got up to speed <strong>with</strong> the situation in<br />
the Congo he <strong>de</strong>alt <strong>de</strong>cisively and swiftly <strong>with</strong> issues confronting<br />
the United States and the free world.<br />
But Devlin ma<strong>de</strong> the classic mistake <strong>of</strong> relying on the American<br />
version <strong>of</strong> African history. He also doubted that Patrice Lumumba<br />
was a communist, a statement I find hard to believe consi<strong>de</strong>ring the<br />
conversations I had <strong>with</strong> Lumumba. I believe from these conversations<br />
that the relationship Lumumba had <strong>with</strong> the Soviets was created<br />
far before the Congo’s in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce.<br />
For the most part, newer generations do not un<strong>de</strong>rstand the perilous<br />
world that existed in the <strong>de</strong>sperate struggle between <strong>de</strong>mocracy<br />
and communism before the fall <strong>of</strong> the Soviet Union in 1990. They<br />
lack the concept <strong>of</strong> the word “communism,” which un<strong>de</strong>rscores the<br />
intensity <strong>of</strong> the fight and dangers <strong>of</strong> that period. The menace <strong>of</strong><br />
this i<strong>de</strong>ology was that “communism <strong>de</strong>stroys the spirit and individ-
xii<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
ualism <strong>of</strong> man,” according to one refugee who was born and raised<br />
in a communist state.<br />
The madness that these communist worker paradise states created<br />
in people drove them to risk their lives escaping to the West. Men,<br />
women and children were shot <strong>de</strong>ad while trying to scale the Berlin<br />
Wall to reach the freedom <strong>of</strong> West Berlin. In their <strong>de</strong>speration they<br />
risked being killed or imprisoned crossing mine-la<strong>de</strong>n barbed wire<br />
bor<strong>de</strong>rs <strong>of</strong> Eastern Bloc countries. It was mute testimony to the<br />
world that they would rather die than live un<strong>de</strong>r communism.<br />
Communism was out to dominate the world. It was an especially<br />
dangerous threat in countries composed <strong>of</strong> tribes. Tribal Africa has<br />
a population that has ingrained in the majority rule by tribal el<strong>de</strong>r<br />
dictatorial <strong>de</strong>cree. Consequently, post-colonial tribal Africa was naturally<br />
more ready to adapt to communism or dictatorship before<br />
<strong>de</strong>mocracy could grow and bear fruit in future generations.<br />
Some <strong>of</strong> the Congo’s history has been written by historians who<br />
have not lived in or set foot in the Congo, so their accounts stand to<br />
be flawed. I lived in Africa longer than most mo<strong>de</strong>rn day authors <strong>of</strong><br />
books about the events <strong>of</strong> that continent. Only by living among the<br />
African population can you <strong>de</strong>velop a perspective that is roun<strong>de</strong>d<br />
by the senses and logical evaluations from experience.<br />
There are naturally contradicting viewpoints even when based<br />
on accurate research. However, many accounts <strong>of</strong> Patrice Lumumba<br />
and the events <strong>of</strong> the Congo have been created from and built on<br />
other false information <strong>with</strong> some purposefully driven by i<strong>de</strong>ological<br />
agenda and some by acci<strong>de</strong>nt. Regardless <strong>of</strong> motivation, the saying<br />
goes, “When the story becomes a legend, print the legend.” Patrice<br />
Lumumba has become a legend.<br />
Mostly because <strong>of</strong> the American civil rights movement, American<br />
history on Africa is biased and is driven to a large <strong>de</strong>gree by “political<br />
correctness” or what has been <strong>de</strong>scribed in some instances as “tyranny<br />
<strong>with</strong> politeness.” There are few parallels between the struggle by<br />
blacks for civil rights in the United States and the black struggle for
Preface<br />
xiii<br />
civil rights and majority rule in Africa. The dynamics <strong>of</strong> each struggle<br />
varied greatly.<br />
To get the proper perspective on African history, you must go to<br />
the archives <strong>of</strong> the British, Dutch, Belgian, French, Spanish, Germans<br />
and Portuguese for accurate information. These were the colonial<br />
powers that had colonized Africa and have the most accurate documentation<br />
<strong>of</strong> its past. We could rely on indigenous African written<br />
history, but there is none from most <strong>of</strong> the past, other than the<br />
stories passed down through generations.<br />
As an instructor <strong>of</strong> history and geography at the Unconventional<br />
Warfare School, I have read African history books in English,<br />
French, German and the translations <strong>of</strong> history books from Portuguese<br />
and Spanish.<br />
African history from the American viewpoint is that Africa and<br />
the black Africans were abused and robbed by the colonial powers,<br />
which has truth. But European historical archives will also reveal<br />
that the colonial powers played a large part in the education and<br />
<strong>de</strong>velopment <strong>of</strong> Africa and its people.<br />
The loss <strong>of</strong> life and chaos in the Belgian Congo in the years after<br />
in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce up to present day is the direct result <strong>of</strong> ignorant, misgui<strong>de</strong>d<br />
and manipulated outsi<strong>de</strong> influences forcing in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce<br />
on the Congo before the Belgians could prepare the Congolese to<br />
run the country.<br />
There is also a pattern <strong>of</strong> action by Lumumba, his liberal sympathizers<br />
and communists that becomes apparent. It points in the direction<br />
<strong>of</strong> premature in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce and the immediate anarchy following<br />
it serving a purpose.<br />
It is not in doubt that progressive attitu<strong>de</strong>s are nee<strong>de</strong>d to force<br />
change in the world. Without them the world would still be in the<br />
clutches <strong>of</strong> the feudal system and the horror <strong>of</strong> slavery would still<br />
exist. However, all common sense was thrown to the wind when the<br />
emotions and passion <strong>of</strong> the liberal world, subtly and <strong>de</strong>ceitfully<br />
stoked by a communist agenda, prematurely forced the Belgians to
xiv<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
surren<strong>de</strong>r the Congo to its unprepared people. That liberal mindset<br />
is directly responsible for the <strong>de</strong>ath and <strong>de</strong>struction that would continue<br />
for <strong>de</strong>ca<strong>de</strong>s and into the new millennium.<br />
The pattern <strong>of</strong> events during the first months <strong>of</strong> in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce<br />
was part <strong>of</strong> a carefully engineered plan to use the United Nations to<br />
consolidate Lumumba’s hold on the Congo. When this failed, Lumumba<br />
was forced to hastily bring in his mentors, the Soviet Union.<br />
He inten<strong>de</strong>d to do so from the beginning as soon as he had gained<br />
control <strong>of</strong> the Congo.<br />
Most accounts <strong>of</strong> the events and turmoil in Africa also ignore<br />
tribal antagonism as a major cause <strong>of</strong> conflict. In the days immediately<br />
after in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce, conflict in the Congo was more the result<br />
<strong>of</strong> tribal antagonisms than the West’s attempt to un<strong>de</strong>rmine Lumumba.<br />
However, this radically changed as Lumumba’s motives became<br />
more apparent and the Soviet Union began to send military<br />
equipment and advisors to the Congo.<br />
Lumumba would have probably become a tyrannical lea<strong>de</strong>r much<br />
like other communist dictators such as Kwame Nkrumah <strong>of</strong> Ghana<br />
or Robert Mugabe <strong>of</strong> Zimbabwe.<br />
Starvation, genoci<strong>de</strong>, terrorism and unrest in Africa became major<br />
concerns <strong>of</strong> the United States. The U.S. Army created a regional<br />
military command in 2008 that <strong>de</strong>als solely <strong>with</strong> Africa. Initially,<br />
four-star General William “Kip” Ward, a career infantry <strong>of</strong>ficer, led<br />
the Africa Command at its headquarters in Stuttgart, Germany.<br />
The command was created to assist in training the militaries <strong>of</strong><br />
African nations and ren<strong>de</strong>ring humanitarian aid to those countries.<br />
The American effort was well received by its host countries and<br />
is a counter balance to similar missions <strong>of</strong> Russia and China. As<br />
General Ward put it: “The U.S. mission is not to militarize or establish<br />
an American military presence in Africa. It is not to create a<br />
monopoly for America on the resources <strong>of</strong> Africa, but to help those<br />
countries become self reliant in their affairs and to ensure the minerals<br />
and resources <strong>of</strong> Africa are free, open and available to the
Preface<br />
entire world on a competitive basis for the betterment <strong>of</strong> the African<br />
people.”<br />
One <strong>of</strong> my motives for writing about this operation is that U.S.<br />
Army Special Forces Sergeant First Class Stefan Mazak, who saved<br />
my life and the lives <strong>of</strong> missionaries, was never publicly recognized<br />
for his feat <strong>of</strong> endurance. He hiked ten kilometers through almost<br />
impenetrable jungle to my stand<strong>of</strong>f <strong>with</strong> rebels. <strong>His</strong> bravery and<br />
valor in confronting and killing many <strong>of</strong> the rebels forced them to<br />
disperse allowing us, and the missionaries, to escape by plane. Stefan<br />
Mazak was responsible for saving the lives <strong>of</strong> thirteen people that<br />
day.<br />
In October 1960, a private ceremony was held at the Tenth Special<br />
Forces Headquarters in Bad Tolz, Germany. Hosted by their comman<strong>de</strong>r,<br />
Colonel Michael Paulick, Captain Clement, Sergeant Mazak<br />
and I were awar<strong>de</strong>d the Army Commendation Medal. Because <strong>of</strong><br />
the classified operation, the Army’s <strong>de</strong>cision to award First Sergeant<br />
Mazak the Army Distinguished Service Cross was revoked. The<br />
reason was the State Department feared publicity would reveal too<br />
much information about the rescue operation. Later, however, he<br />
was posthumously awar<strong>de</strong>d the Silver Star Medal, the third highest<br />
valor award, for his service in Vietnam in 1968.<br />
The Army Distinguished Service Cross, next to the Medal <strong>of</strong><br />
Honor, is the second highest military <strong>de</strong>coration that can be awar<strong>de</strong>d<br />
to a member <strong>of</strong> the Army. It is awar<strong>de</strong>d for extreme gallantry and<br />
risk <strong>of</strong> life in actual combat <strong>with</strong> an armed enemy force. United<br />
States authorities <strong>de</strong>ci<strong>de</strong>d there would be no mention <strong>of</strong> Special<br />
Forces soldiers involved in combat <strong>with</strong> Congolese soldiers that<br />
could come back to haunt the United States government.<br />
As a first lieutenant, I, however, became the first Army lieutenant<br />
to receive the Legion <strong>of</strong> Merit for bravery and service in the Congo.<br />
Colonel Paulick stated to all attending the ceremony, “There is to<br />
be absolutely no mention <strong>of</strong> this ceremony or the awards, especially<br />
to the press.”<br />
xv
xvi<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
If this had not been a classified operation, we both would have<br />
been awar<strong>de</strong>d the Purple Heart and Stefan Mazak would probably<br />
have received the Distinguished Service Cross for his bravery.<br />
Sergeant First Class Stefan Mazak was killed on April 18, 1968<br />
while on a covert operation <strong>with</strong> the Fifth Special Forces Group in<br />
Vietnam.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong><br />
Las Vegas, Nevada
U he<br />
Introduction<br />
truth can be twisted, cut, bent and warped. But like an absolute<br />
law <strong>of</strong> science it still remains the truth. What purpose<br />
does history serve if it is not truthful? Since the truth <strong>of</strong> Patrice Lumumba<br />
and the Congo is not what has been written in most accounts,<br />
I enlisted the help <strong>of</strong> <strong>Jack</strong> <strong>Lawson</strong> to write a memoir on the genesis <strong>of</strong><br />
American military involvement in the Congo.<br />
Lumumba’s meteoric rise and sud<strong>de</strong>n fall is one in which he is<br />
portrayed as the black-nationalist victim <strong>of</strong> ruthless Western powers<br />
and colonial financial interests in the Congo. The popular impression<br />
is that Lumumba was crushed like the ember representing the fire<br />
<strong>of</strong> freedom for black Africans. The fashionable belief is that he was<br />
driven out <strong>of</strong> <strong>de</strong>speration to turn to communist nations for help.<br />
My experience differed <strong>with</strong> that version.<br />
When I traveled <strong>with</strong> Patrice Lumumba, and was there to secretly<br />
guard his life, I had many personal conversations <strong>with</strong> him. This<br />
was during the early days <strong>of</strong> the newly in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nt Belgian Congo.<br />
As an ambitious communist, he had scaled the country’s topsyturvy<br />
political lad<strong>de</strong>r before he was chosen prime minister <strong>of</strong> the<br />
Republic <strong>of</strong> the Congo.<br />
In keeping <strong>with</strong> the plan, I had fooled him into thinking I was a<br />
communist, like him, not from Africa but from a family tied to<br />
France’s chemical industry. Our conversations, always spoken in<br />
French, ranged from politicians and i<strong>de</strong>ology to trivial talk. He<br />
never failed to come across as macho and self-centered. But I didn’t<br />
care because he trusted me.
xviii<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
At six feet tall I was lucky to have been an inch taller than him or<br />
I’m sure he would have tried to talk down to me.<br />
I posed as French communist Robert Solvay while on a trip <strong>with</strong><br />
him to Rabat, Morocco. That’s when the infamous “Congo Toothpaste<br />
Assassination Plot” to kill him <strong>with</strong> poisonous toothpaste was<br />
supposed to have occurred.<br />
I found it quite humorous because the man never brushed his<br />
teeth. He didn’t even own a toothbrush.<br />
On this trip to Rabat, he was seeking an alliance <strong>with</strong> the crown<br />
prince <strong>of</strong> Morocco. I had the room next to him in the hotel.<br />
That morning, Lumumba knocked on my door. I answered <strong>with</strong><br />
a toothbrush in my mouth, and opened the door to see him standing<br />
there. I bid him good morning and invited him in.<br />
“Are you ready to go, Robert?” he asked.<br />
“Just one moment, Prime Minister, I have to finish brushing my<br />
teeth.”<br />
Lumumba walked insi<strong>de</strong>.<br />
I went into the bathroom and through the open door I could see<br />
him behind me, staring in the mirror. He laughed, bearing his<br />
perfect, pearly white teeth.<br />
“I do not brush my teeth, Robert, and my teeth are perfect! Look,”<br />
he bragged.<br />
“Well, Prime Minister, you are a fortunate person,” I replied <strong>with</strong><br />
a smile.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>
TMBWFS(’T<br />
XIFFM<br />
A <strong>Green</strong> Beret’s <strong>True</strong> <strong>Story</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>His</strong><br />
CLASSIFIED MISSION in The Congo<br />
<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>Lawson</strong><br />
<strong>with</strong> <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>
u the<br />
2<br />
Behind the Wheel<br />
<strong>de</strong>caying remnants <strong>of</strong> a wheel <strong>of</strong>f a fourteenth century<br />
Portuguese oxcart stands in the middle <strong>of</strong> Inkisi, a tiny<br />
African village on the banks <strong>of</strong> one <strong>of</strong> the hundreds <strong>of</strong> Congo River<br />
tributaries.<br />
This wheel is set in a har<strong>de</strong>ned mud brick pe<strong>de</strong>stal much like a<br />
monument. Like most monuments it represents a special inci<strong>de</strong>nt<br />
in the lives <strong>of</strong> people <strong>of</strong> the Congo’s western region. It represents<br />
victory and freedom in a battle the ancestors <strong>of</strong> the people <strong>of</strong> Inkisi<br />
fought centuries ago <strong>with</strong> Portuguese slave tra<strong>de</strong>rs.<br />
Left to the imagination are the grief, tears, anguish and blood<br />
shed by those people centuries ago when the inci<strong>de</strong>nt took place<br />
that led to the capture <strong>of</strong> this wheel. For centuries, this event was<br />
not recor<strong>de</strong>d through writings or books. Nor are there inscriptions<br />
or plaques on the pe<strong>de</strong>stal <strong>of</strong> this wheel <strong>de</strong>scribing this great victory<br />
in their history, a battle for their freedom. Had they lost this battle,<br />
their <strong>de</strong>feat would have forever changed their existence and that <strong>of</strong><br />
their children and their children’s children. They would have been<br />
slaves for generations.<br />
But this battle was recor<strong>de</strong>d just the same for centuries in the<br />
only way they knew how to pass on their history on. It was a story
2<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
told countless times as they danced around Slaver’s Wheel ceremoniously<br />
to remind their children <strong>of</strong> their ancestor’s <strong>de</strong>feat <strong>of</strong> tyranny<br />
in that battle won centuries ago. The ceremony conveyed to all in<br />
the tribe their pri<strong>de</strong>, bravery and <strong>de</strong>termination that they would be<br />
no one’s slave, that they would be free people.<br />
Through this celebration the story was passed down from generation<br />
to generation. This wheel was the centerpiece <strong>of</strong> the village<br />
and around it were places where bonfires lit the night thousands <strong>of</strong><br />
times while they danced.<br />
As the story was told for generations, the wheel is from the oxcart<br />
<strong>of</strong> Portuguese slavers. These vicious and brutal slave hunters had<br />
surprised and rai<strong>de</strong>d this African village to harvest their one and<br />
only crop: native Africans to be sold to the highest bid<strong>de</strong>r. On that<br />
fateful day, wives would lose husbands and children, husbands would<br />
lose wives and children, children would lose parents and most children<br />
would be slaughtered or left to die on their own as had happened<br />
countless times in other villages rai<strong>de</strong>d by slavers and rival<br />
tribes for centuries.<br />
The Portuguese and an allied rival African tribe had surroun<strong>de</strong>d<br />
and rai<strong>de</strong>d this village in the early morning hours. The story goes on<br />
that the slavers were leading hundreds <strong>of</strong> the village’s captive people<br />
to the coast, the Portuguese riding on top <strong>of</strong> their possessions in two<br />
ox carts. It was a seemingly endless line <strong>of</strong> people chained to each<br />
other to be loa<strong>de</strong>d on waiting ships. Just another lucrative cargo <strong>of</strong><br />
nameless black Africans bound for slave auctions in the West Indies.<br />
Many <strong>of</strong> the warriors <strong>of</strong> the village they had just rai<strong>de</strong>d had been<br />
on a hunting party and returned to see the <strong>de</strong>vastation and annihilation<br />
<strong>of</strong> their village. They were soon angrily pursuing the Portuguese<br />
slavers and their line <strong>of</strong> slow moving, walking misery. The Portuguese<br />
came un<strong>de</strong>r increasingly sporadic and vicious attacks by these warriors<br />
over the coming days. Attacks would materialize from seemingly<br />
nowhere. The jungle would sud<strong>de</strong>nly erupt along both si<strong>de</strong>s <strong>of</strong> their<br />
trail <strong>with</strong> <strong>de</strong>adly strikes on the slavers and their African helpers.
Behind the Wheel<br />
Many slavers were killed or seriously woun<strong>de</strong>d. Within a week<br />
their nerves were frayed and they were afraid <strong>of</strong> stopping for sleep<br />
for fear <strong>of</strong> being overrun and killed. Most <strong>of</strong> their allies, the rival<br />
African tribesmen, had abandoned the Portuguese. Now <strong>with</strong>out<br />
sleep for days, the Portuguese feared for their lives.<br />
They abandoned all the slaves from Inkisi hoping this would end<br />
the <strong>de</strong>vastating attacks. But the warriors from Inkisi continued to<br />
pursue the Portuguese, their ranks now swollen <strong>with</strong> their freed and<br />
angry comra<strong>de</strong>s. The remain<strong>de</strong>r <strong>of</strong> the Portuguese <strong>with</strong> their few<br />
slaves from other villages finally reached the coast and immediately<br />
began to load their ship. While hoisting one <strong>of</strong> the carts onto the<br />
ship, sud<strong>de</strong>nly one <strong>of</strong> the wheels fell <strong>of</strong>f. In fear <strong>of</strong> being wiped out,<br />
the Portuguese quickly raised sails and set out for sea, leaving the<br />
wheel behind.<br />
This slaver’s wheel was taken by the tribe and set in the center <strong>of</strong><br />
the tribal village <strong>of</strong> Inkisi in the area that eventually became the<br />
Belgian Congo. They danced around it for centuries in a ritual that<br />
represented the last loss <strong>of</strong> their people to Portuguese slavers. The<br />
Portuguese had suffered so many casualties on this expedition that<br />
they never again ventured into this part <strong>of</strong> the Congo to capture<br />
slaves.<br />
Slaver’s Wheel sits in mute testimony to the end <strong>of</strong> slavery for<br />
this tribe, centuries before the British outlawed the business in 1807<br />
and finally ma<strong>de</strong> the business punishable by <strong>de</strong>ath in 1833. The<br />
Belgians and other countries soon followed suit, except Portugal<br />
and the young country <strong>of</strong> the United States. Slaver’s Wheel represented<br />
to this tribe that they would never submit to slavery. To them<br />
this wheel represented their freedom.<br />
3
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Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm
J heard<br />
3<br />
Unjust Rumor<br />
you were involved <strong>with</strong> the assassination <strong>of</strong> Patrice Lumumba<br />
in the Congo.” The words tumbled out <strong>of</strong> my mouth before<br />
I could check my impulse to speak.<br />
They were directed to the stocky man <strong>with</strong> graying hair and telltale<br />
limp <strong>with</strong> whom I had just shaken hands and who’d taken the chair next<br />
to me at the dining table. He had been given many cover names and<br />
i<strong>de</strong>ntifications over the years, but his real name was <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>.<br />
In spite <strong>of</strong> his neatly tailored dark gray pinstripe suit, his military<br />
bearing betrayed him amid the gamblers and business people haunting<br />
the chic Center Stage Café in Las Vegas that day in September <strong>of</strong><br />
2000. This aging man looked as fit as an eighteen year old just out <strong>of</strong><br />
Fort Benning Airborne School, the legendary training post in Georgia<br />
that he had conquered <strong>de</strong>ca<strong>de</strong>s earlier. He may as well have been in his<br />
Army uniform, <strong>with</strong> his full-bird colonel’s insignia and his many<br />
medals, the hardware that comes <strong>with</strong> years <strong>of</strong> discipline <strong>of</strong> military<br />
life that had forever bran<strong>de</strong>d him <strong>with</strong> this revealing air.<br />
My question was raw and out <strong>of</strong> place. But <strong>Sully</strong> didn’t waiver, he<br />
continued calmly unfolding his cloth napkin and preparing for the<br />
meal that would soon be in front <strong>of</strong> him as if the question hadn’t been<br />
asked.
6<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
My statement had created a frozen silence from the rest <strong>of</strong> those<br />
at the table. It was an unnerving stillness. The silence was as empty<br />
and pure as the white tablecloth in front <strong>of</strong> us. All at the table sat<br />
motionless, staring at <strong>Sully</strong> <strong>with</strong> curiosity, won<strong>de</strong>ring if he’d answer<br />
my question and simultaneously won<strong>de</strong>ring what this was all about.<br />
Watching how this man would react to my unintentional verbal<br />
ambush as he prepared to eat his meal <strong>with</strong> the manner <strong>of</strong> his European<br />
upbringing and that <strong>of</strong> an <strong>of</strong>ficer and gentleman.<br />
My friend, the late author Robin Moore <strong>of</strong> Special Forces fame,<br />
was sitting to my left and I could feel his eyes penetrate me. Even<br />
Robin, known for his boldness, was uncomfortable <strong>with</strong> what I’d<br />
just said, but I’d heard the rumor. I’d met this man for the first time<br />
only a few minutes earlier, but <strong>Sully</strong> had such an inviting air about<br />
him that seemed to beckon, “Talk to me. Ask me what you want.”<br />
Maybe I felt I had common ground <strong>with</strong> <strong>Sully</strong> because <strong>of</strong> my experiences<br />
in Africa. That would make this a conversation <strong>of</strong> one<br />
soldier to another. Whatever the reason for my impulsiveness, I had<br />
blurted out the words and they couldn’t be retracted. Regardless, I<br />
kicked myself for speaking out so sud<strong>de</strong>nly and tactlessly.<br />
“<strong>Sully</strong> here led the Special Forces Team in the Congo in 1960<br />
right after in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce and Patrice Lumumba becoming prime<br />
minister.” That’s what Robin Moore said to the others, finally breaking<br />
the frozen silence at the table in an attempt to bridge the obvious<br />
gap between my question and somewhat establish <strong>Sully</strong>’s i<strong>de</strong>ntity<br />
to the uninformed at our table.<br />
I knew little about <strong>Sully</strong> other than what Robin had briefly told<br />
me. The limp was from a leg severely broken on a parachute jump<br />
that caused him to live for years <strong>with</strong> one leg slightly shorter than<br />
the other. It was not properly set and <strong>Sully</strong> wouldn’t reveal where it<br />
had happened, leaving me to imagine some clan<strong>de</strong>stine operation<br />
he’d rather not discuss.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> was a former British Special Operations Executive operative<br />
who transferred to the Office <strong>of</strong> Strategic Services and was one <strong>of</strong> a
Unjust Rumor<br />
group <strong>of</strong> wildcat U.S. Army <strong>of</strong>ficers who helped pioneer the Special<br />
Forces in the 1950s. This was the new military unit inten<strong>de</strong>d for<br />
unconventional warfare for the future unconventional world. It<br />
would be immortalized through Robin’s book about Vietnam ma<strong>de</strong><br />
into the movie, The <strong>Green</strong> Berets, starring John Wayne.<br />
I learned much more about <strong>Sully</strong>, but the more I learned the more<br />
questions came to mind. He was like some sophisticated Chinese puzzle,<br />
the more parts you moved on it, the more complicated it became.<br />
Long ago, I had read accounts <strong>of</strong> the American involvement in<br />
the Congo in the 1960s. It was the time and place <strong>of</strong> legends and<br />
excitement. It was the birthplace <strong>of</strong> the Congo mercenary and the<br />
famous five, six and ten commandos led by Englishman “Mad” Mike<br />
Hoare, Frenchman Bob Denard and Belgian Congo plantation<br />
owner Jean “Blackjack” Schramme. It was a place akin to the American<br />
Wild West era, only this was Africa and in its anarchy and<br />
lawlessness reputations and fortunes were ma<strong>de</strong> by anyone <strong>with</strong> the<br />
courage, nerve and enough guns to back them up.<br />
Most <strong>of</strong> these men were fighting against communist imperialism<br />
and saving whites from rape and mur<strong>de</strong>r at the hands <strong>of</strong> the Congolese.<br />
The mercenaries would be in or out <strong>of</strong> favor <strong>with</strong> governments<br />
involved as the flip-flopping jumble <strong>of</strong> alliances and interests changed<br />
over the next five years much like the rapidly changing Congo<br />
weather. Most mercenaries were consi<strong>de</strong>red heroes to Westerners.<br />
But their <strong>de</strong>fiance <strong>of</strong> what they thought was wrong and their alleged<br />
unruliness caused the world powers and particularly the United Nations<br />
to outlaw the use <strong>of</strong> mercenaries forever.<br />
It was the time <strong>of</strong> transformation <strong>of</strong> these colonies to emerging<br />
in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nt nations governed by the majority. For the most part,<br />
the majority consisted <strong>of</strong> uneducated black Africans who were born<br />
into tribes that ruled the people <strong>of</strong> their areas by dictatorial <strong>de</strong>cree.<br />
Consequently, they had absolutely no concept <strong>of</strong> just and <strong>de</strong>mocratic<br />
elections and rule <strong>of</strong> the people by a constitution and laws <strong>with</strong> the<br />
checks and balances <strong>of</strong> elected representatives and a judiciary.<br />
7
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Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
They were thrust totally unprepared into the twentieth century.<br />
The result was that East and West i<strong>de</strong>ologies would compete for<br />
their favor and chaos would rule for <strong>de</strong>ca<strong>de</strong>s. The Congo became a<br />
vast staging ground for the struggle between the West and the<br />
Soviet Union.<br />
It was also the time and place <strong>of</strong> the alleged American involvement<br />
in Patrice Lumumba’s downfall and <strong>de</strong>ath. Lumumba was a name I<br />
would well know later in my life. First-hand accounts <strong>of</strong> the Rho<strong>de</strong>sian<br />
Security Forces capturing terrorist belongings in Zambia during<br />
camp raids proved that Zimbabwe African Nationalist Liberation<br />
Army (ZANLA) terrorists, or Rho<strong>de</strong>sian terrorists supported by<br />
the Russians and operating out <strong>of</strong> Zambia, had been trained by<br />
Russians in the Soviet Union.<br />
A high-ranking Soviet intelligence <strong>of</strong>ficer who <strong>de</strong>fected to the<br />
West during the Cold War stated that Patrice Lumumba’s People’s<br />
Friendship University was a front used by the KGB—Russian state<br />
police and intelligence services—for training communist terrorists<br />
from all over the world.<br />
Rho<strong>de</strong>sians had discovered some curious items insi<strong>de</strong> terrorists’<br />
backpacks. These inclu<strong>de</strong>d an Aer<strong>of</strong>lot—Soviet airlines— flight menu,<br />
military training notebooks and a group graduation photograph.<br />
That photo contained an international mix <strong>of</strong> stu<strong>de</strong>nts including<br />
two ZANLA terrorists standing between primitive cannons at a Russian<br />
training facility. Whether or not this photo was taken at Lumumba’s<br />
People’s Friendship University, the Russians had nevertheless named a<br />
university after him. Why was this man so revered by the Russians?<br />
I remember thinking as the saying goes that “One man’s terrorist is<br />
another man’s freedom fighter.” I just never reasoned that communism<br />
was any form <strong>of</strong> freedom for mankind. Initially, I suppose it was better<br />
than the suppression <strong>of</strong> some dictatorships until the real brick-andmortar<br />
<strong>of</strong> communism set in, building their so-called ‘perfect society’<br />
that <strong>de</strong>stroys the spirit <strong>of</strong> man by <strong>de</strong>manding blind obedience and<br />
killing free thought. It is an i<strong>de</strong>ology that crushes any thinking other
Unjust Rumor<br />
than that <strong>of</strong> the Marxist-communist doctrine where everyone is supposedly<br />
equal, except those in power. I conclu<strong>de</strong>d that communism is<br />
just another form <strong>of</strong> dictatorship.<br />
Whatever my thoughts on this i<strong>de</strong>ology, Patrice Lumumba was a<br />
martyr and revered amongst communists, even though his fame<br />
lasted a shorter duration than that <strong>of</strong> Ernesto “Che” Guevara. Still,<br />
his fame is what legends are ma<strong>de</strong> <strong>of</strong> and universities are apparently<br />
named after.<br />
The United States government and especially its Central Intelligence<br />
Agency became involved in the Congo when the 1960s revolutions<br />
were in progress. Reeling from Castro turning Cuba into a communist<br />
bastion on America’s doorstep, the West was not going to let Lumumba’s<br />
dream <strong>of</strong> a communist state become a reality in the heart <strong>of</strong><br />
Africa, especially after he openly embraced the Russians and they returned<br />
that embrace <strong>with</strong> the beginning <strong>of</strong> massive shipments <strong>of</strong> aid,<br />
advisors and weapons. To the CIA, where the Congo went, so goes<br />
Africa; and where Africa went, so goes the world.<br />
The CIA consi<strong>de</strong>red the Congo as the key to Africa. Its agents did<br />
a splendid job <strong>of</strong> sorting through the mess in the Congo. Their task<br />
could be compared to baking again an already ruined cake and making<br />
it somewhat palatable. No doubt, payments were ma<strong>de</strong> and manipulation<br />
took place. But because <strong>of</strong> the Free World’s “good guy” status, the<br />
CIA seemed to be held accountable to criticism for these shadowy<br />
tactics while the Soviets, using the same <strong>de</strong>vices, were not.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> credits the CIA <strong>with</strong> saving the Congo. Without the CIA exerting<br />
their substantial influence, the Republic <strong>of</strong> the Congo, if not all<br />
<strong>of</strong> Africa, would have gone communist. The Congo was truly representative<br />
<strong>of</strong> the domino theory. Countries that fell into communism<br />
would quickly affect an adjoining country, like dominos toppling the<br />
one next to it, and the Congo was teetering towards the fall.<br />
If communism were to be established in the Congo, the rest <strong>of</strong> the<br />
continent would eventually follow suit. The huge Belgian Congo<br />
shared bor<strong>de</strong>rs <strong>with</strong> many African countries that were also ripe for<br />
9
10<br />
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revolution. The Congo is about one-fourth the size <strong>of</strong> the United<br />
States. It is the third largest country by area and is the richest mineral<br />
bearing land <strong>of</strong> that size on the African continent.<br />
The Congo’s rich <strong>de</strong>posits <strong>of</strong>, diamonds, gold, copper and uranium<br />
would go to the other si<strong>de</strong> in the Cold War, creating a <strong>de</strong>ficit on the<br />
economic war’s balance sheet for the West and a huge credit on that <strong>of</strong><br />
the East.<br />
Nuclear weapon production numbers and costs for East and West<br />
alone were at stake during the Cold War. For more than twenty years<br />
the United States had known that the Congo held the best source <strong>of</strong><br />
uranium for atomic bombs. Albert Einstein, the genius physicist, had<br />
ma<strong>de</strong> that point clear in a letter to Presi<strong>de</strong>nt Franklin D. Roosevelt in<br />
August 1939.<br />
He wrote Roosevelt, saying, “It may become possible to set up a nuclear<br />
chain reaction in a large mass <strong>of</strong> uranium, by which vast amounts<br />
<strong>of</strong> power and large quantities <strong>of</strong> new radium-like elements would be<br />
generated.”<br />
“This new phenomenon would also lead to the construction <strong>of</strong><br />
bombs and it is conceivable—though much less certain—that extremely<br />
powerful bombs <strong>of</strong> a new type may thus be constructed,” Einstein informed<br />
FDR.<br />
“A single bomb <strong>of</strong> this type, carried by boat and explo<strong>de</strong>d in a port,<br />
might very well <strong>de</strong>stroy the whole port together <strong>with</strong> some <strong>of</strong> the surrounding<br />
territory.”<br />
But Einstein zeroed in on the role <strong>of</strong> the Congo.<br />
“The United States has only very poor ores <strong>of</strong> uranium in mo<strong>de</strong>rate<br />
quantities. There is some good ore in Canada and the former Czechoslovakia,<br />
while the most important source <strong>of</strong> uranium is Belgian<br />
Congo.”<br />
As such, much was at stake if communism held its grip on the<br />
Congo. It was evi<strong>de</strong>nt in 1960 that it would take many more years to<br />
economically <strong>de</strong>feat that mindset. Since the Congo bor<strong>de</strong>red eight<br />
countries that were prone to turning communist, it was obvious that<br />
another nine could be affected if communism prevailed.
Unjust Rumor<br />
Within a <strong>de</strong>ca<strong>de</strong>, half <strong>of</strong> Africa’s countries could have been un<strong>de</strong>r<br />
the control <strong>of</strong> the Soviet Union. Guerilla infiltration and rebel camps<br />
for liberation wars fought would have sprung up all along bor<strong>de</strong>rs<br />
as communism spread.<br />
The muscle <strong>of</strong> American and Belgian <strong>de</strong>termination and resolve<br />
began to flex through the classified mission <strong>of</strong> <strong>Sully</strong> and his Special<br />
Forces team that worked behind the scenes to evacuate whites from<br />
mass extermination in the Congo. Then, indirectly through the CIA<br />
and that trio <strong>of</strong> Congo mercenaries—Englishman “Mad” Mike<br />
Hoare, Frenchman Bob Denard and Jean “Blackjack” Schramme—<br />
Lumumba and later his associates would not succeed in bringing<br />
the Soviet Union into control <strong>of</strong> the Congo.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> knew all the key players in what started out as a rescue mission<br />
at the urging <strong>of</strong> Ambassador Tim Timberlake.<br />
****<br />
Silence had set back in at the table after Robin spoke. The looks<br />
<strong>of</strong> all sitting there were still focused on <strong>Sully</strong>. He sipped water from<br />
a <strong>de</strong>licate crystal glass to the right <strong>of</strong> his plate and set it down. He<br />
spoke slowly and carefully <strong>with</strong> a telltale accent that could be traced<br />
back to his roots in France.<br />
The once-secret operation that had been unclassified for almost<br />
forty years was not the reason he spoke slowly and precisely. It was<br />
his nature to be humble, quiet and reserved. He would answer my<br />
question and the thousands more I had that day and over the next<br />
years in a manner that was almost a reluctant revelation <strong>of</strong> his past.<br />
What this unassuming man would tell me was a story <strong>of</strong> which<br />
legends are ma<strong>de</strong>, a story <strong>of</strong> a lea<strong>de</strong>r and his men whose exploits<br />
were little known to the world, one <strong>with</strong> factions that did not want<br />
to hear the truth. The secrecy was necessary to keep the liberals, socialists<br />
and communists <strong>of</strong> communist countries and their sympathizers<br />
<strong>with</strong>in the Western powers from yelling, “foul play,” over the<br />
United States’ involvement in Africa and labeling what started as a<br />
humanitarian mission as imperialist American meddling.<br />
11
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Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
This humanitarian mission quickly turned into a struggle laced<br />
<strong>with</strong> the intrigue and brutality <strong>of</strong> a power play by the East against<br />
the West. <strong>Sully</strong> hoped this Cold War fight would tip the balance <strong>of</strong><br />
power to the Western world to <strong>de</strong>feat communism. When it was<br />
<strong>de</strong>classified on July 20, 1963, his Congo operation was obscured by<br />
the publicity <strong>of</strong> the Vietnam War, a war that years later would<br />
severely affect the American psyche.<br />
America was in its gol<strong>de</strong>n days. The Drifters were singing “Save<br />
the Last Dance for Me”; gasoline was thirty-one cents a gallon;<br />
Burt Lancaster won an Aca<strong>de</strong>my Award for his title role in the<br />
movie, “Elmer Gantry”; a loaf <strong>of</strong> bread cost twenty cents; mailing a<br />
letter was four cents; Elvis Presley’s classic song, “Are You Lonesome<br />
Tonight,” was playing on the radio; and Moise Tshombe had <strong>de</strong>clared<br />
in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nce from the Congo for the Katanga Province.<br />
Most Americans started that Monday morning, July 11, 1960,<br />
like any other day. They ate breakfast, took their children to school,<br />
drove to work, did their jobs and had supper together in the peace<br />
and quiet <strong>of</strong> their homes. Many watched James Arness play Matt<br />
Dillon in “Gunsmoke” and saw Rod Serling’s “The Twilight Zone”<br />
on television. They viewed worldwi<strong>de</strong> events through the eyes <strong>of</strong><br />
the mass media as portrayed in newspapers, magazines, on radio<br />
and TV.<br />
For <strong>Sully</strong> and his men, their coming days in the Congo would be<br />
far from the comfortable security <strong>of</strong> an American family room.
4<br />
The Silence <strong>of</strong> Inkisi<br />
T ully <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>’s words to “Jake One,” the Army pilot, could<br />
barely be heard over the engine noise and propeller wash that<br />
blasted through the cockpit <strong>of</strong> the bush plane, a single-propeller <strong>de</strong><br />
Havilland Beaver.<br />
“Take <strong>of</strong>f right now, captain! Get high enough to be out <strong>of</strong> small<br />
arms range. You know the routine,” <strong>de</strong> <strong>Fontaine</strong>—known as “Robert”<br />
for the mission—told the captain.<br />
“Don’t come back for me or evacuees unless I tell you to land.<br />
Not for any reason. Got it?”<br />
“Got it. Good hunting, Robert,” the pilot shouted back. He gave<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> a thumbs-up for good luck as <strong>Sully</strong> closed the door.<br />
The pilot put full throttle to the aircraft, and the plane stirred a<br />
giant dust cloud as it rolled down the dirt road away from the<br />
village. <strong>Sully</strong> turned away and had to hold his hat to keep it from<br />
blowing <strong>of</strong>f as he started walking down the road toward the village<br />
<strong>of</strong> Inkisi. <strong>Sully</strong> looked back to watch in disbelief as the pilot barely<br />
cleared the tree line. He was still amazed at the skill <strong>of</strong> this pilot<br />
landing and taking <strong>of</strong>f from places that most stunt pilots wouldn’t<br />
even attempt.
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Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
Entering the village, <strong>Sully</strong> began systematically searching for survivors.<br />
An eerie silence filled this once-bustling village in the remote<br />
Belgian Congo jungle.<br />
Only the drone <strong>of</strong> the Beaver broke the silence as the fixed-wing<br />
plane rapidly gained altitu<strong>de</strong>. The pilot and <strong>Sully</strong> had seen the<br />
bodies littering the streets and the smol<strong>de</strong>ring buildings on their<br />
flyover before they lan<strong>de</strong>d.<br />
It was high noon and the heat, humidity and smell were almost<br />
unbearable. But <strong>Sully</strong> pressed on. He searched building-by-building<br />
and room-by-room. <strong>His</strong> British safari suit turned a sha<strong>de</strong> darker<br />
from the torrents <strong>of</strong> sweat pouring <strong>of</strong>f him. It gave this lanky man a<br />
look much different than that <strong>of</strong> John Huston in the movie, “White<br />
Hunter, Black Heart.” But this was not a movie set where a change<br />
<strong>of</strong> clothes and a cool glass <strong>of</strong> water were part <strong>of</strong> the routine. It was<br />
the reality <strong>of</strong> Africa in the summer <strong>of</strong> 1960, a summer <strong>of</strong> terror that<br />
had spread like a windblown grass fire.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> was neither the White Hunter nor a man <strong>with</strong> a black<br />
heart. The tremendous thirst that gnawed at him every second was<br />
by his years <strong>of</strong> training an almost nonexistent thought in his mind.<br />
Also pushed asi<strong>de</strong> was the urge to vomit from the overwhelming<br />
smell <strong>of</strong> the <strong>de</strong>composing <strong>de</strong>ad that would have ma<strong>de</strong> most people<br />
throw up.<br />
The perspiration spread further, darkening more <strong>of</strong> his beige<br />
safari suit as he cautiously searched the village. <strong>His</strong> sweat was not<br />
just from the heat and his exertion, but from the ever-present subconscious<br />
fear he felt <strong>of</strong> a confrontation <strong>with</strong> the rebels who had recently<br />
ravaged this village. He knew he would be vastly outnumbered<br />
and would be on his own in an ambush.<br />
There would be no one to come to his aid if this happened. He<br />
could only do his best to escape. <strong>His</strong> submachine gun, a pistol and<br />
two grena<strong>de</strong>s gave him some comfort. In the back <strong>of</strong> his mind, he<br />
knew if he were captured that his <strong>de</strong>ath would not be quick and it<br />
would be painful beyond comprehension.
Silence in Inkisi<br />
Neither capture nor surren<strong>de</strong>r was an option. He pushed both to<br />
the recesses <strong>of</strong> his mind, as the years <strong>of</strong> special operations training<br />
had taught him.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> led this <strong>de</strong>sperate classified mission at the request <strong>of</strong> Clare<br />
“Tim” Timberlake, who became the first U.S. ambassador to the<br />
Democratic Republic <strong>of</strong> Congo on July 5, 1960. The Belgians had<br />
asked for emergency help to extricate and save foreigners from<br />
certain <strong>de</strong>ath at the hands <strong>of</strong> roving bands <strong>of</strong> rebels in remote areas<br />
<strong>of</strong> the Congo. They were Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba’s rebels<br />
who were intent on killing all foreigners and rival tribal members in<br />
the newly in<strong>de</strong>pen<strong>de</strong>nt Belgian Congo. Anyone could be their victim<br />
and the only qualification was to be white, European, or not <strong>of</strong> a<br />
tribe that supported the new prime minister.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> had issued or<strong>de</strong>rs for his men to openly carry weapons at<br />
their discretion if they were alone on a rescue mission, even though<br />
the initial plan was to appear unarmed when entering village so as<br />
to provoke rebels.<br />
In his medical backpack adorned <strong>with</strong> a large red cross that usually<br />
gave him safe passage <strong>with</strong> the rebels, were his radio, medical supplies<br />
and magazine pouches. He was traveling light, but it was unbearably<br />
hot, and his backpack seemed to weigh three times its weight <strong>of</strong><br />
twenty-five pounds.<br />
Each time he searched a building, he prepared to fire his nine-millimeter<br />
submachine gun that he carried <strong>with</strong> a sling over his shoul<strong>de</strong>r.<br />
A putrid odor hung in the humid air. The dismembered corpses<br />
<strong>of</strong> scores <strong>of</strong> Africans and a few white missionaries, farmers and<br />
businessmen lay where they had been killed. Their bodies and pieces<br />
were covered <strong>with</strong> thousands <strong>of</strong> flies and ants. They had been viciously<br />
hacked by rebels intent on killing their victims in the most<br />
primitive and horrendous fashion, <strong>with</strong> semi-sharp machetes. They<br />
preferred this to using ammunition from their weapons.<br />
Hundreds <strong>of</strong> bodies filled the streets. There were more in the<br />
buildings that <strong>Sully</strong> searched. As the engine noise from the <strong>de</strong>parting<br />
15
16<br />
Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
<strong>de</strong> Havilland Beaver fa<strong>de</strong>d to a distant purr, another noise—the<br />
chorus <strong>of</strong> thousands <strong>of</strong> flies buzzing around the corpses—became<br />
an almost overwhelming sound. It didn’t take long for something<br />
<strong>de</strong>ad in the Congo to attract flies and ants from miles around. They<br />
covered white and black African <strong>de</strong>ad alike for a feast that was <strong>of</strong><br />
biological equality.<br />
By the looks <strong>of</strong> the smol<strong>de</strong>ring buildings and the <strong>de</strong>composition<br />
and bloating <strong>of</strong> the bodies, <strong>Sully</strong> calculated the slaughter had taken<br />
place about two days ago. However, Frenchy, his radioman, had<br />
ma<strong>de</strong> contact <strong>with</strong> whites from this village early this morning. The<br />
missionaries from Sona-Bata were insistent that there were still<br />
whites alive somewhere in Inkisi or one <strong>of</strong> the surrounding villages.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> didn’t think the main group <strong>of</strong> rebels was in the village, but<br />
this seasoned, thirty-three-year-old U.S. Army Special Forces lieutenant<br />
would not trust to chance that they had all left. The rebels<br />
were on drugs or drunk the majority <strong>of</strong> the time and <strong>Sully</strong>’s suspicion<br />
that a few hung-over stragglers may still be here kept him on edge.<br />
In the missionary church and attached living quarters he found a<br />
<strong>de</strong>ad Catholic priest and three sisters. The sisters lay stripped naked,<br />
<strong>de</strong>ad on the floor by the altar, where they had been repeatedly raped<br />
and then gruesomely killed. The priest had been savagely beaten<br />
before being hacked open, his intestines pulled from his abdomen.<br />
Flies and ants covered him and the rest <strong>of</strong> the <strong>de</strong>ad.<br />
<strong>Sully</strong> yanked <strong>of</strong>f the curtains and covered the bodies. It seemed<br />
an almost pointless gesture among all the carnage, but he felt it was<br />
<strong>de</strong>cency <strong>of</strong> some sort for these <strong>de</strong>parted souls at least until they<br />
could be properly buried. In the priest’s quarters he found a radio<br />
set that had been smashed to pieces. It was the only one he’d found<br />
in the village.<br />
The few native Africans he came upon in the huts and buildings<br />
were cowering in any place they could hi<strong>de</strong> that would give them<br />
some sense <strong>of</strong> security from the terror they knew could revisit them<br />
at any moment. When <strong>Sully</strong> appeared, they cried and begged him
Silence in Inkisi<br />
for their lives, speaking their native Lingala language. The lucky<br />
few, who had escaped through the cordon <strong>of</strong> rebels that had surroun<strong>de</strong>d<br />
the village before attacking, were hiding <strong>de</strong>ep in the surrounding<br />
jungle.<br />
He could do little to comfort the ones he discovered in the buildings<br />
other than to say in French and Lingala, “Don’t be afraid, I am<br />
your friend. People are on their way to help you.”<br />
He knew, though, it would be weeks before or<strong>de</strong>r would be restored.<br />
He hoped his words would provi<strong>de</strong> some sense <strong>of</strong> relief and<br />
lessen the anguish and terror they had suffered. But he knew those<br />
were empty words just the same.<br />
Much <strong>of</strong> the village had been set on fire and the remnants <strong>of</strong> the<br />
structures were still smol<strong>de</strong>ring, set ablaze by the rebels as they left.<br />
Entering mud huts, the church, shops and small stores stripped <strong>of</strong><br />
their goods, the scene was always the same: Dead bodies littered<br />
the grounds and merchandise was strewn everywhere among the<br />
carnage. After searching the entire village for rebels and the whites<br />
he had come for, he knew he was alone <strong>with</strong> only the few Africans<br />
he’d discovered in hiding.<br />
He’d been searching now for almost an hour and moved to the<br />
center <strong>of</strong> the village when he saw it. To the si<strong>de</strong> <strong>of</strong> the main street<br />
was the Portuguese slaver’s oxcart wheel. He walked slowly toward<br />
it. As odd looking and as out <strong>of</strong> place as the wheel was, he remembered<br />
it from a story he had read a few years earlier while teaching<br />
classes on African history and geography to Special Forces troops<br />
at the Unconventional Warfare Center at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.<br />
It was the Slaver’s Wheel.<br />
For a moment <strong>Sully</strong> was in awe <strong>of</strong> the history at which he stared.<br />
The sight <strong>of</strong> the wheel gave him goose bumps and a cold chill<br />
<strong>de</strong>spite the heat in this jungle village. There it stood, the monument<br />
to the victors <strong>of</strong> that battle for freedom generations ago.<br />
The thought sud<strong>de</strong>nly struck him that the village foun<strong>de</strong>rs would<br />
weep again if they could see their <strong>of</strong>fspring now around the Slaver’s<br />
17
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Tmbwfs’’’’’’’’’ (t!Xiffm<br />
Wheel, not dancing in celebration but their bodies in pieces surrounding<br />
it in grotesque lifeless poses, lying where they were brutally<br />
killed in the village streets.<br />
Breaking from a trance, <strong>Sully</strong> laid his submachine gun on the<br />
pe<strong>de</strong>stal <strong>of</strong> the Slaver’s Wheel. He cupped his mouth <strong>with</strong> both<br />
hands to amplify his voice as he yelled in all directions alternately in<br />
English and French, “I am French-Canadian and here to evacuate<br />
you. Show yourselves!”<br />
After another fifteen minutes <strong>of</strong> his pleas going unanswered, he<br />
radioed Jake One to land the Beaver and pick him up. Frenchy had<br />
been given the wrong village name or those who had radioed for<br />
help had their radio <strong>de</strong>stroyed, had fled or had been killed.<br />
Within a few minutes, the Beaver lan<strong>de</strong>d. As they took <strong>of</strong>f, <strong>Sully</strong><br />
radioed Frenchy.<br />
“Robert Four, this is Robert One, come in.”<br />
“Go ahead, Robert One.”<br />
“Just left Inkisi and found no one there. Radio them again to<br />
confirm their location.”<br />
“Roger that. I’ll call you back.”<br />
“Jake, circle around at tree top level moving out from the center<br />
<strong>of</strong> the village. Maybe we can spot them from the air.” <strong>Sully</strong> told the<br />
pilot.<br />
“Got it, Robert.” Jake One answered over the headset and for the<br />
next twenty minutes they flew in an increasing spiral trying to spot<br />
the refugees from the air.<br />
Soon, Frenchy radioed <strong>Sully</strong> back.<br />
“Robert One, come in.”<br />
“Go ahead Robert Four,” <strong>Sully</strong> answered.<br />
“I can’t raise them on the radio. They <strong>de</strong>finitely told me Inkisi,<br />
Robert.”<br />
“Roger. Call me if you hear from them again.”<br />
“Roger that,” Frenchy said as he signed <strong>of</strong>f.<br />
“Jake, head back to Brazzaville.”
Silence in Inkisi<br />
“Gotcha. Turning to a Brazzaville heading now, Robert.”<br />
As the plane banked to turn on its new heading for Brazzaville in<br />
the neighboring French Congo, <strong>Sully</strong> had a clear view <strong>of</strong> the village.<br />
He looked intently one final time for movement. Just hoping that<br />
he could spot whoever had radioed them. He saw nothing. But the<br />
thought <strong>of</strong> that Slaver’s Wheel sud<strong>de</strong>nly flashed through his mind.<br />
What had started for <strong>Sully</strong> as a classified humanitarian rescue<br />
mission would change the course <strong>of</strong> history in the largest country in<br />
Africa and help <strong>de</strong>ci<strong>de</strong> the Cold War, <strong>de</strong>ca<strong>de</strong>s before it would have<br />
come to a conclusion.<br />
19