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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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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

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