Delta Force (17 page)

TWENTY-ONE

BLUE LIGHT, SUPPORTED
by JFK Center, was competing against us. Delta's training program had not been evaluated or blessed. But worst of all, our recruitment situation was not getting better. The next selection course—the third—was due to be kicked off any day. I wrote a letter. There was no other way I could go.

I had one of my officers deliver it directly to General Meyer's office. Paranoia? Yes, but I've got no business doing what I'm doing without a small case of it: “Call me when you see this letter delivered to General Meyer.” I knew lots of things went to Washington and sometimes they lost their way. A very clever action officer could “misplace” a letter. I didn't just think this would happen. I knew it could happen.

The call came around 11:00
A.M
., it was 8 March 1978, confirming the letter had been received. The day was dark and the weather had turned cold. Within an hour I took another call. Lt. Gen. Volney Warner said, “Charlie, General Rogers is coming here this afternoon and wants to see you. After I've
shown him some training I'll bring him back to my office and you can see him here. Meet us at Pope Air Force Base around 1330.” I said, “Whatever's fair, sir.” It began raining like hell.

I immediately asked Majors Hurst and Buckshot to go through our files and pull out every memo we'd written painting our problems. If General Rogers wanted to come back to Delta's headquarters, we'd be ready.

By midafternoon the hard rain had turned to a cold drizzle.

At Pope, General Warner spoke to me and to Colonel Norton, who was acting on behalf of Mackmull, then in Korea on a visit. “After I've shown him what I have to, we'll come back to my office. Do y'all have any problems with this?” “No,” I said, “but I don't think that's what General Rogers is going to want to do.”

“And what's that, Colonel?”

“He's going to want to go over to the Stockade and I'm prepared to lead the way.”

General Warner didn't see it that way. I knew he wanted to be perceived as a nice guy, but I knew he was making life very hard. Mackmull used to tell me, “Things are not real good, because General Warner breathes all over me, Charlie. You need to understand that. He thinks you're trying to become a free agent and he wants me to keep you in line.” With Warner biting from the top and me pecking from the bottom, Mackmull was having a tough go of it.

Colonel Norton and I were about thirty feet from where Warner greeted General Rogers. They spoke for some time. It was cold and damp enough to see their breath. The Chief of Staff was dressed in his Class A Greens. Warner turned and waved me over. “Lead the way to the Stockade.”

At the Stockade, General Rogers sat down at one end of our conference table. We were in Delta's little conference room. Nothing fancy here. No battle paintings and no elaborate podium. Just a work space with a scruffy table and folding chairs. Some of my staff were present. I remained standing. I said, “General Rogers, the concept to establish a unit along SAS lines in the United States Army, which you approved for implementation, is off track. We have very serious problems.
I've documented them and I want to share this material with you.” I thought he was going to say, “Yeah, that's the reason I'm here…”

When he didn't interrupt I continued. “Some of the problems I have recommendations for solving, others are too large for me. One of my major problems is in command and control. As you will recall, on 19 November 1977, Delta was activated under HQ, FORSCOM, passed to XVIII Airborne Corps, and down to the commander JFK Center. This is a serious mistake and could jeopardize the entire concept of Delta.” I was very calm and articulating my troubles carefully. “The German's GSG-9 has a very clean chain of command. No in-between bureaucracy. SAS operates the same way. I would, therefore, request that Delta be a Field Operating Agency working directly under DCSOPS. I would like you to read some of this documentation.”

General Rogers began to work his way through the piles of paper. The rain, which had begun falling again, could be heard on the roof. Eventually, he stumbled on a memo outlining Mountel's use of Delta's ammunition. “What's Blue Light?” he asked. “I didn't authorize that. Why are they using your funds?” Norton didn't say a thing. Then, General Rogers read the next memo, describing how the Rangers had been fenced off from me. Attached to the memo were the two messages from Mackmull and Meloy I had acquired. Very quickly General Rogers went through all the paper. “You know,” he said when he was finished, “there's a four-letter word in Kansas for this kind of mess.” He became very upset, “We have to get this straightened out. Why haven't you kept me informed, Charlie?”

I explained I didn't have the authority to send a cable directly to him but had to go to my rating officer. Colonel Norton, for permission to send through the JFK Center. General Rogers turned to Norton, “Who in the hell are you? You're not Colonel Beckwith's rating officer, so why really are you even here? General Meyer is Colonel Beckwith's rating officer and I'm his endorsing officer. Charlie, you don't work for Colonel Norton!”

Norton didn't say a word. He just froze in his seat and stared straight ahead. I understood then that General Rogers hadn't any idea of the size of the bureaucracy that had been put over me. In fact, Colonel Norton was my rating officer and General Mackmull
was
my endorser. I knew if it stayed that way I was a dead man.

General Rogers said, “Charlie, you will keep me informed.” This meant I had the authority to release teletype messages directly. I no longer had to go through my commanding general or any other general at Bragg to send these hard-copy messages. Lots of people in the Army write messages, but getting them released and put on the teletype is a different story.

The shit truly hit the fan. You have no idea how it hit. People stood with their mouths open. My deputy, Dick Potter, was so excited he could hardly stand himself.

I asked General Rogers, “Would you like now to go back and visit some of the troops?” “No,” he said. “I want to talk to you in private.” General Warner was left sitting in my little conference room. Mouths dropped open wider. The Army Chief of Staff and I went outside and stood by the rose garden. The rain was falling hard again. General Rogers was not only angry, he was hurt, disappointed. There was some distant thunder.

“This is just a mess, Charlie.”

I said, “General Rogers, let me, if I can, sir, say one thing to you. If I fail in this job, then, goddamn it, you ought to fire me. I want to do this job, but I need some support. I'm not being supported out of the Special Forces community. I'm not being supported by the Rangers. I didn't realize that there would be people who stood around the periphery and wished me to fail—but that is the case. There are people who really want to see Delta fail. I want this job more than anything in this world.”

General Rogers looked at me. There was a pause. The four silver stars on his new black rain coat gleamed in the rain. He said. “Let me make one thing clear to you, Charlie. If you fail you're not the only one who's going to be fired. Oh, yeah, I'll
fire you, but I'm going to get fired, too. The President, Charlie, wants this unit. Delta is important. We cannot afford to mess this up.”

We walked back inside. General Rogers said to everyone in the room. “What I'm going to do is get Shy down here and we're going to get this problem turned around.” He turned to General Warner, “I've got to get back to Washington.” And he left.

I suddenly realized, General Rogers had not seen General Meyer that day, let alone read my letter. He'd been visiting Fort Stewart and quite by accident had decided on his way home to stop off at Bragg to see Delta. It had been an accident. The homework had been done and we were ready, but it had been an accident. Delta, finally, had had some luck.

The thunder was closer now.

TWENTY-TWO

JUST BEFORE TWILIGHT,
General Mackmull walked through the gate. He didn't say anything but I could tell he was still very angry. On the dot of 1700 hours, escorted by General Warner, and dressed in boots and fatigues, General Shy Meyer arrived. He was as affable as ever. He smiled and shook hands with everyone. There was no clue in his behavior, no tip on what he was about to do.

Three days earlier, after General Rogers had left for Washington, Norton had been furious. I had blown the whistle on everyone; and he so informed General Mackmull who, reportedly, cut a couple of days off his Korean trip and returned home immediately. I had then received a call telling me that General Meyer was coming to Bragg on Saturday, March 11th. After he looked over one of General Warner's exercises, he'd be over to sort out Delta's issues.

Early Saturday morning I had taken a different sort of call. “I'm coming over to see you!” All of Delta's officers and key noncoms—there weren't many of them—had been lined up when General Mackmull arrived. He was so angry I suggested we talk in Lieutenant Colonel Potter's office—larger than mine. It was neutral ground.

“What you told the Chief of Staff,” he said, “is only how you perceive the situation. Not as it really exists.”

I went back to square one—the briefing for the CSA on 2 June 1977—and reminded him how he hadn't paid any attention
to our presentation and of his pessimistic view of Delta's future.

“Furthermore, General, you were handed this whole thing on a silver platter. Bob Kingston did all the work and now you don't know what the hell to do with it. That makes me angry. You have no difficulty supporting Blue Light, but you won't let me recruit men who want to volunteer for Delta. We've got a conflict I don't intend living with anymore.”

“What you did the other day, Colonel, was an act of disloyalty. From the beginning you have shown a reluctance to work within the system.”

“I am not in this business, General, to get my ticket punched.”

This was not an argument. This was a shoot-out. I had boiled over. Mackmull's face was red. We began shouting.

“Well, Colonel, what's your game then?”

“My game is to get out of Dodge. I'm gonna get this unit moved out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina.”

“Well, that's not going to happen.”

“We'll see.”

“This will get sorted out when General Meyer gets here. I'll be back.” He turned, threw open the door, and stormed out.

I had not wanted this to happen, but I'd known things were coming to a head. That afternoon I'd either win or I'd get fired. My future and Delta's would be determined when General Meyer arrived.

As soon as General Meyer, General Warner, General Mackmull, and their accompanying staffs settled in, I asked Major Buckshot to brief everyone on the new proposed training course. When this business had been concluded, General Meyer, the father of the Delta concept, who, along with Kingston and DePuy, had carefully steered it through the war of the briefings, stood up. There wasn't a sound in the room. The lights had been turned on.

“I want everybody but the following people to leave: General Warner, General Mackmull, Charlie, Dick Potter, and my action officers, Colonels Owens and Stotser. Everyone else will leave.” No longer was anyone smiling. He looked around.
The thing that hit my mind, and it's funny, was this: King Arthur was sitting at his round table. He's so damn clear. He knows precisely what he's getting ready to do. I wish I knew what it was.

General Meyer said, “I have the authority from the Chief of Staff of the Army to hire, to fire, and to transfer anyone in this room.”

“Colonel Beckwith,” he said, “I know you would like very much to be a Field Operating Agency directly under DCSOPS. I know you'd like that. And, if I had another deputy, another general officer working for me, I'd probably do that. But I don't. So, you'll have to stay where you are. I'm going to leave you under Jack Mackmull. Is that clear?”

I said, “Yes, it is.” And I began to really get emotional.

“Charlie, you've got to realize something. I think about you and the guys down here every day. But, I'm a busy man. I don't have time, personally, on a day-to-day basis, to run this unit. You have to stay under Jack.”

I raised my hand. “Can I say something?” I stood up. I was choked up a little bit. “How in the hell do you expect me to do my job and run this unit when that general right there told me this morning I was disloyal? How can I continue to work under that man?” General Meyer looked at me and said very calmly. “I'm not interested in hearing that, so sit down.”

I thought, “I've lost the ball game.” I wondered how long it would take me to submit retirement papers and clean out my desk.

General Meyer spoke next to General Mackmull. “Jack, I'm not sure in my own mind you have supported Charlie. But, I'll tell you one thing you're going to do on Monday morning; you're going to open the gates and allow anyone in the Special Forces who wants to try out for Delta to come on over. He's got to get this selection course off the ground or he's not going to make his schedule. The Rangers are going to do the same thing. There's to be no more bickering. Do you understand, Jack?” He didn't give General Mackmull any slack either, but he was nicer to General Mackmull than he'd been to me.

No one in the room seemed able to move or cough or even breathe.

Then, to General Warner, “Volney, you have nothing to do with this. You have no role in this at all. However, I expect you to support this project in any way you can.”

I quickly understood what General Meyer had done. Generals Warner and Kroesen had been removed from the equation. Delta would go directly to the JFK Center, and the JFK Center, for Delta, would now go directly to Department of the Army. What General Meyer had also done was cause a real problem. Volney Warner was very angry. He's a little man. I believe he has a little man's complex. Now he didn't say anything, not one word.

Jack Mackmull also had a difficulty. He had been double-hatted. As Commander of Special Forces he worked for General Warner. He also supervised Delta, which now Warner had nothing to do with. General Mackmull didn't say a word either.

General Meyer returned to me. “Charlie, I want to ask you a question. Will you do this job? Tell me, yes or no?”

I hesitated. He asked me the question again. I said, “I'd like to.” General Meyer interrupted me. “You didn't answer my question. Yes or no, will you do this job?”

I looked at him. I figured I'd stay in the Army one more year. I said, “Yes, sir. I'll do it.”

General Meyer then walked over to an easel, and with a black Magic Marker he wrote DEPT OF ARMY. “This is the Chief of Staff and me.”

Below that he drew a box. “This is the JFK Center for Military Assistance and General Mackmull.”

He drew another box below that. “This is Delta and Charlie Beckwith.”

Here was a simple table of organization—Department of the Army, JFK Center, Delta—three boxes joined by a straight line, one on top of the other.

He looked at me. “Now, what you have the authority to do”—and he swiftly drew a curved line which bypassed JFK Center and connected Delta to Department of the Army—“is
come directly to me when you and Jack have an impasse.”

I hoped I didn't show the astonishment I felt. You dumb country bumpkin, I said to myself. You've lost the battle but won the war. The pendulum had swung back again. On the butcher paper, General Meyer had put Delta Force under the operational control of Department of the Army.

General Meyer said, “I want to get this train on track and moving.” That was it. The meeting ended at 1815. It had lasted one hour and fifteen minutes.

On Monday morning, the 13th, early, right after PT, General Mackmull called. “I'd like you to round up your staff. I'm coming over to talk to you.”

We had all worked on Sunday. I was still stunned by Saturday's events. We'd carved out some history. Events in the Army just don't happen that way, where this type of audience gets together, discusses the conflict, and is given direction. Also, no one now doubted, if he had before, how vital Delta Force was to this nation.

General Mackmull did very well that Monday morning. “I want to put aside the problems we've had and I want us to get along.” He wasn't humble and I'd have been disappointed if he had been. He never mentioned the approval I'd received to make a left-end run. But he wanted peace and he wanted to help us. I respected him for that. I still wasn't ready to trust the man, and he wasn't ready to trust me, but at least now we might be able to get off to a fresh start.

The third selection course was conducted with about seventy candidates. We got a lot of Green Berets to run through it and some—not many, but some—Rangers. Fourteen candidates were accepted from this course. It was decided then to compress the time period, and within a ten-day span we put through the selection course another class of volunteers. This was another very productive class; from it sixteen good men were selected.

By the middle of April 1978, Delta had conducted four selection courses and from the 185 volunteers who'd been assessed,
fifty-three had been chosen for the first individual training course.

On April 28th, seventy-nine new recruits participated in the fifth selection course. Out of this group, twenty recruits were chosen for training.

With enough men now in hand to make up a squadron-sized unit, it was time for Delta to move to the next stage.

I began focusing on counterterrorist training requirements, trying to make some sense out of them. New ground was going to have to be broken. I suddenly realized, “Nobody in this whole bloody Army has any experience in this arena.”