Chapter 12: Friction

Casern of the 25^/a Batallon de Infanteria, (about 1km south of Zona Militar 5^/a) in the city of Chihuahua, Chihuahua state
1025 Hours (10:25 AM) ZPT (Zona Pacifico) Tuesday March 27^th 2018
(dialogue is spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

Teniente Coronel de Ribera had received a heads up from Mayor de la Barca that the lead elements of the 13^/a Batallon de la Policia Militar were now travelling west on the highway 16 toll route, and were about to cross Phase Line Chupaflor. At his signal, his officers and NCOs hustled the soldiers aboard the vehicles, ending an impromptu futbol (soccer) game. Once more the vehicle commanders, or co-drivers had secured the chock blocks, engines were started, then radio checks were made. Mayor Jiménez, Executive Officer of the 25^/a Batallon de Infanteria, radioed him to report all personnel and sensitive items were accounted for.

Teniente Coronel de Ribera signaled the commander of the Cazadores Peloton to move up to the gate; his driver Soldado de Primera Reyes to follow them. The half dozen soldiers who had been lounging by the entrance to the casern for nearly three hours, rushed to the gate, and were prepared to open it as his command. Two of these soldiers who would remain in garrison, wore blue facemasks, indicating they had a contagious URI, most likely just a common cold. Some two dozen soldiers were unfit for one reason or another for service in the field.

As they reached the gate, but before they could open it, the Policia arrived too, several on motorcycles. Teniente Coronel de Ribera craned his head out the window, to verify that the other vehicles of the convoy were lining up behind him. Subteniente Villanueva, his Aide-de-Camp, was listening to the frequency for Zona Militar 5^/a, Coronel de Ribera stuck out his hand, and his Aide passed him the radio handset. The speaker for the radio set to the primary tactical frequency for the Battalion announced that each Compania and Peloton was staged, and prepared to depart.

“Matador Zero Three, this is Toro Zero Six.” Teniente Coronel de Ribera said into the radio handset.

This time the response was almost immediate, “Toro Zero Six this is Matador Six Three.”

“Matador Six Three, this is Toro Zero Six. All Toro elements are prepared to SP, and several units of the Chihuahua Traffic Policia are standing by. Toro Zero Six Actual requesting permission to initiate movement. Over.”

“Toro Zero Six this is Matador, Roger. You are cleared to execute movement plan. Vaya con Dios.”

More than two and a half hours past their SP (Start Point) time, the 25^/a Batallon de Infanteria was heading off to war.

Toll Plaza, Federal Route 16, west of Federal Route 24, 50km west of the city of Chihuahua, Chihuahua state
1155 Hours (11:55 AM) Tuesday March 27^th 2018
(dialogue is spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

A pair of Chevy Silverado pickup trucks with a pintle and gun shield mounted in the bed, one armed with an HK21 machinegun, the other with a M2HB .50 caliber heavy machinegun, were the leading vehicles of the 13^/a Batallon de la Policia Militar. Each vehicle contained five Military Police. They were supposed to be alert, for they were the scouts for the battalion, however, they had been up since “O-Dark-Thirty” and had also experienced an unusually long day yesterday too.

Travelling approximately three hundred meters behind the ad-hoc scouting detachment was Teniente Coronel Calleja in an armored black Chevy Suburban, the best protected, and most comfortable vehicle in his battalion. His lead vehicles were approaching the Toll Plaza demarking Phase Line Pinzon, for some reason they were slowing down. Using his compact Zeiss binoculars, he was able to see a scattering of detritus around the toll plaza. He snatched up the radio handset for the battalion frequency, and yelled, “Why are you Slowing Down! GO FASTER!”

A jumble of voices tried to respond, but it was the Cabo in the second truck whose voice cut through, “Mi Coronel we are going to drive around and check for a potential ambush—”

“Idiota! Address me as Culebra Actual! You need to follow proper radio procedures! Now, Speed Up! Drive through the Damn toll plaza, we must go faster to get back on schedule!” Teniente Coronel Calleja shouted; he was still disappointed with the call sign ‘Snake’ he had wanted to be Quetzalcoatl Actual.

Switching to the radio set for Zona Militar 5^/a, said into the microphone, “Matador Zero Three, this is Culebra Zero Six.”

“Uh, Culebra Zero Six, um, Matador Zero Zero Three Romeo. Um, give me your report.”

“Matador Zero Three, Culebra Zero Six, we have passed Phase Line Pinzon.” Teniente Coronel Calleja said.

It wasn’t really a lie, more of a slight exaggeration. His battalion needed to be reported to be checking the blocks on time. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone important had taken his message. It wasn’t the actual Operations Officer for Zona Militar 5^/a, just some Peon. Headquarters was probably as badly plagued with Fools, Incompetents, and Slackers, as he was in His Battalion! If only he were allowed to impose Strict Discipline, then, then he could make an impression! His Battalion should be filled with Soldiers, not these Pesky Children he must constantly punish. He needed a Nanny to watch them.

As they drove through the toll booths, Teniente Coronel Calleja was enraged to see that his lead vehicles had slowed down yet again, he grabbed the microphone and yelled, “Idiota! Why are you again Slowing Down! GO FASTER!”

“Last calling station. This is Matador Zero Three. Say again. Over.”

His face flaming, Teniente Coronel Calleja switched radio handsets, then yelled, “IDIOTA! PUTA! PEONS! If you can’t learn to Drive, I will Make You WALK!”

“Uhh ... Um Culebra Zero Six, this is Culebra Five One. There are ... Many dead bodies. Um, we are seeing many, many dead bodies, dozens and dozens of them! Possible Ambush!” Cabo Sanchez in the lead truck said in fits and starts.

The idiots had stopped moving, and all but the drivers and gunners had dismounted. The gunners swung their machineguns about, probably searching for targets; not that they were likely to discover any enemies while hunched behind their gun shields. The other young Military Police were wandering about, the muzzles of their weapons darting about. His driver stopped the Chevy Suburban just twenty meters short of the number two gun-truck. Teniente Coronel Calleja was shocked. There really were a lot of dead bodies sprawled on the ground! He opened the door to get out and really lay into his lazy children for causing further delays; then the indescribable stench nearly made Teniente Coronel Calleja vomit.

Slamming the door shut, Coronel Calleja verified he had the correct microphone, then said, “Get back in your vehicles. Get Going!”

As the Military Police scrambled back into their trucks, the rest of the battalion piled up behind their Colonel’s Chevy Suburban. The radio net was jammed, a babble of voices exclaiming about the dozens, perhaps hundreds of dead bodies laying upon the highway, and surrounding countryside. A dozen or more burned-out vehicles partially blocked the eastbound lanes. The bodies were bloating, many had burst, the stench was cloying and sickening. Several of the Military Police were vomiting, and more than a few were crying.

Cannon Air Force Base, near Clovis, New Mexico
1315 Hours (1:15 PM) MDT (Mountain Daylight Time) Tuesday March 27^th 2018

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “I am damn glad you chose to join us, Christopher. I appreciate the impact this will have on your family. As soon as we get you checked in, you will be released for the rest of the day to look for suitable housing for rent. You might find assistance here on base. I’ll leave that to you, this is your branch, and I’ve not bothered with off base housing. We are not planning on anything resembling organized operations until Monday the second. Lieutenant Washington, Sergeant Brussels, and some others are conducting an inspection on our first MQ-9, which just arrived this morning. They also just started preparing the ground where we are going to establish our compound. If I know Paul, we’ll be in operation in less than fifteen days.”

“I shore appreciate you welcoming me like this sir. If I’d a known that Colonels personally see to the wants of Sergeants, I’d-a joined USSOCOM years ago.” Master Sergeant Cooper said with a grin.

Colonel Wojciechowski chuckled, then replied, “Everyone else is doing something important. I’ve just been in meetings. Corporal Thomas has been considerate enough to chauffeur me around. You’d think he rarely gets a chance to drive his shiny Dodge Charger.”

His government issued phone buzzed, and he answered it, saying, “Colonel Wojciechowski.”

“Sir! We Need to get an MQ-9 in the air! Now! I need to see you in person!” Lieutenant Commander Akira Ellis said in a rush.

Colonel Wojciechowski asked, “Where are you Akira?”

“Outside the building you dropped me off at this morning. Not supposed to call from inside.” Lieutenant Commander Ellis said.

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “Excuse me Sergeant Cooper, duty calls.”

“Is this a Scramble, Sir?” Sergeant Cooper asked, walking along with him.

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “Akira wouldn’t be this agitated if it weren’t urgent. But our only UAV is disassembled, and I don’t think they have even had a chance to take a look at the GCS (Ground Control Station). We won’t be prepared for flight operations for at least one hundred and thirty-eight hours.”

“Difficult tasks we do immediately. The impossible just takes a bit longer.” Master Sergeant Cooper said as he broke into a run.

When Corporal Thomas saw Colonel Wojciechowski and Master Sergeant Cooper running towards him, he fired up his pride and joy. He peeled out of his parking spot, roared across the parking lot. Not sparing their dignity, the two veterans piled into the back of his car, while Colonel Wojciechowski told Thomas where to pick up Akira. With a throaty rumble, the Corporal accelerated to only slightly over the base speed limit. In just a couple of minutes they had picked up Lieutenant Commander Ellis, and were making the best possible speed to the UAV Maintenance Hanger.

“Sir, I just confirmed some critical information. The Mexican Army is trying to conduct a coordinated attack, and its looking to be a Soup Sandwich! Notionally they are OpCon (Operational Control) under the Federales, but they pretty much have a free hand. That means some high-ranking civilians want this resolved quickly. They’ve thrown this together pretty quickly, twenty-four hours, maybe forty-eight, possibly a Warning Order about a hundred hours ago. These are some of their regional battalions, they are not prepared for this! They are committing some fifty to sixty percent of field forces in Military Zone Five. That’s Chihuahua, the State. If this goes Pear Shaped, as I think it will, it’s—It’s vital we get eyes on!” Akira said.

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “If I recall Mexico has some forty Military Zones, the one in Chihuahua has two Infantry Battalions, a Military Police Battalion, and a battalion sized Cavalry Regiment. The real maneuver forces are concentrated around Mexico City. Why is this impending engagement so critical?”

“First engagements usually have a significant impact upon the early stages of a war. Usually, both sides learn, and adjust, however, we would learn a lot about what is going on. I expect the Mexicans will try to cover up whatever happens, even if they do well. If they win, they won’t want to disrupt commercial activities, especially tourism. If they have a debacle— Our superiors will want to know what’s about to happen, they won’t care we are not yet officially operational. If we don’t get a bird over this battle, there won’t be any other sources! As far as I can tell we’ve got no sat—National Technical Means, neither do the French, Russians, Chinese, or anyone else.”

As soon as the Dodge Charger screeched to a stop, the four men scrambled out and raced for the hanger. The Air Force personnel where startled to witness a Marine Colonel, and Corporal charging into their facility, chased by two other individuals, even more so when Colonel Wojciechowski roared, “How long to get that bird in the air!”

Captain MacElearney and Lieutenant Washington stepped away from the personnel inspecting the MQ-9, and towards the quartet running at them, Captain MacElearney said, “Sir, we only started this inspection thirty minutes ago. It’s going to require several more hours to complete the inspection.”

Skidding to a stop, Colonel Wojciechowski said, “I thought the documentation indicated this bird was in at least adequate shape? If we put it in the air and fly it for a couple of hours, will it be able to collect data, and return to base?”

“Sir. How vital could a training exercise be?” Captain MacElearney asked.

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “That’s OpSec! I’m not jerking your chain Captain MacElearney, nor your personnel. An unanticipated, and fleeting situation is occurring. We really need this bird in the air as soon as possible! Less than an hour, if you can work wonders.”

Captain MacElearney nodded his head, and said, “We will do our best, Colonel.”

“Sir, I don’t want to be the turd in the punch bowl, but we don’t have an operational GCS, nor an available pilot.” Lieutenant Washington said.

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “You are qualified Lieutenant. You told me you can program an MQ-9, and don’t have to actually use the joystick. If necessary, could you coach Sergeant Brussels?”

“Those things are possible, sir. I had planned to instruct Staff Sergeant Brussels how to be a Mission Specialist, and eventually to become a backup pilot.” Lieutenant Washington admitted.

Colonel Wojciechowski said, “Let’s get our GCS in operation, and Staff Sergeant Brussels trained. Captain MacElearney, can we get power to the GCS where it is currently at.”

“I’ll contact the Squadron, and get a subject matter expert or three down to assist you folks ASAP.” Captain MacElearney said.

Colonel Wojciechowski led the others away at a fast walk, as Captain MacElearney, Technical Sergeant Gustafsson, and their personnel prepared the MQ-9 Reaper for the first mission of the Hidalgo Task Force. Colonel Wojciechowski and the others burst into the adjacent hanger like a thunderbolt. Again, the inventory was interrupted. Using the forklift, various pallets were relocated, and other preparations were made. One of Captain MacElearney’s sergeants produced various cables to hook the GCS to a power outlet, however, they waited until the subject matter experts arrived from Squadron to confirm they weren’t going to do something that could damage equipment, or injure personnel.

Lieutenant Washington exclaimed, “This is a Prototype Block 50 Ground Control Station for the MQ-9! How did you obtain this?”

Master Gunnery Sergeant McLaughlin, and Technical Sergeant Nightlinger simultaneously said, “I’d like to claim scoring a coup, but this came from the Colonel’s angels.”

“It seems that there was a desire to test this contraption in an austere environment, however, there was a concern about deploying it overseas. I suppose they could have sent it to Nellis AFB, or Fallon NAS, but we got it instead.” Master Gunnery Sergeant McLaughlin explained.

Technical Sergeant Nightlinger said, “I managed to acquire some spares, and the material to create a training simulator. Some assembly will be required. However, if we need it, we can replace any module we need to.”

When the subject matter experts for Ground Control Stations from the MQ-9 Squadron based at Cannon AFB arrived, first they whistled at the sexy prototype Block 50 GCS, then they rolled up their sleeves. The unusual group of individuals were in a race to get the GCS into operation in time to perform the mission. In the tradition of high morale military forces, they were of course in a race to beat the other team trying to complete their duties in record time. Truthfully, they had too many high-ranking, but unskilled personnel present, who ended up doing the scut work typically performed by low ranked enlisted personnel. The situation caused Colonel Wojciechowski to smile, especially because it seemed they would get the MQ-9 in the air in time.

Federal Route 16, west of the northern terminus of FR 24, 45km west of the city of Chihuahua, Chihuahua state
1234 Hours (12:34 PM) ZPT (Zona Pacifico) Tuesday March 27^th 2018
{due to recent changes by the US Congress, ZPT is 1 Hour behind MDT until the 1^st Sunday in April} (dialogue is spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

“Matador Zero Three, this is Toro Zero Six. Phase Line Tango. Over.” Teniente Coronel de Ribera reported to Zona Militar 5^/a.

“Uh. This is Matador Zero Three. Umm, Roger, uh Toro Zero Six. Acknowledge you are at Objective Tango. Out.”

Three hundred meters south of the intersection of Federal Route 24 and Toll Route 16 was Objective Tango for the 13^/a Batallon de la Policia Militar. The intersection itself was just supposed to be a Phase Line for the 25^/a Batallon de Infanteria, a control measure for Zona Militar 5^/a to control the movement of both battalions travelling on the same route. Chuckling, Teniente Coronel de Ribera passed the hand set back to Subteniente Villanueva, his Aide-de-Camp, who grinned shyly. Cabo Gonzales, sharing the back seat with the green junior officer Coronel de Ribera’s bodyguard and batman, merely shrugged his shoulders.

Teniente Coronel Heraldo de Ribera figured he might as well be amused, getting frustrated, or angry, would be counterproductive. As they passed the notional Phase Line, he glanced to the south and was treated to a classic military evolution, sometimes called a “Charlie Foxtrot” (Cluster Fuck). A Company of Military Police were preparing a TCP (Traffic Control Point) including several roadblocks; it was also supposed to be a defensive position guarding the flank of his infantry battalion as the convoy passed. They would also be securing his supply route. Who knows? By tomorrow, or maybe the next day, or the next, it might be. Manana.

According to his personal Magellan GPS, they were swiftly approaching Phase Line Pinzon, the Toll Plaza a few more kilometers to the west. Not long after they departed the city limits of Chihuahua, they had passed first broken-down truck belonging to the 13^/a Batallon de la Policia Militar. The further west Teniente Coronel de Ribera’s convoy had traveled, the more disabled vehicles they had encountered. Curiously there had been virtually no civilian traffic on the toll route. With the police escort through the city streets, and no traffic, his convoy had been able to maintain their designated speed of thirty kilometers per hour; what the Gringos would consider to be about twenty miles per hour.

“Toro Zero Six, this is Toro Zero Five, all Victors passed Phase Line Tango. Over.” Mayor Jiménez his Executive Officer reported.

Teniente Coronel de Ribera replied, “Toro Zero Five, Toro Zero Six. Roger. Out.”

Heraldo checked his note pad. The convoy of the 25^/a Batallon de Infanteria, and attachments from Zona Militar 5^/a consisted of fifteen medium trucks belonging to his battalion, mostly US Army surplus M35A1 two-and-a-half ton trucks; called by the Gringos a “Deuce and a Half” over the years a shortage of authorized vehicles resulted in some civilian style stake-back trucks being substituted for the absent military trucks. Nine of the fifteen trucks were assigned three each to his three Compania Fusileros (Infantry Companies), each company also had an obsolete M151A2 quarter ton truck, or jeep, for the Company Commander. Most of the trucks were towing a trailer, either a ‘Water Buffalo’ transporting potable water, or a one-and-half ton trailer containing supplies.

The battalion heavy weapons, four M2HB .50 caliber heavy machineguns, and four Mk 19 40mm automatic grenade launchers, were each mounted on a (DGIM) HMMWV (High Mobility Multi-Purpose Wheeled Vehicle a.k.a. “Humvee” w/ Kevlar armor & anti-spalling lining) (manufactured at Mexico’s Dirección General de Industria Militar, under license); there was a two-man team with a Carl Gustave 84mm recoilless rifle (rocket launcher) carried in each of the Humvees with a fifty-caliber machinegun. A Weapons Section of two vehicles, and one each M2HB, Mk 19 and a “Charlie G” was attached to each Infantry Company; the Forth Section travelled immediately behind Teniente Coronel de Ribera, under his direct command.

His scouts, the Cazadores Peloton, one officer and fifteen NCOs and enlisted soldiers were mounted in four Canadian Army surplus SWB Land Rover Defender 90’s, no one was quite sure of where they came from. The Mortar Peloton was transporting two M2 81mm mortars, and four M1 60mm mortars, the mortarmen, and ammo in six Chevy Silverados, and two Chevy Blazers. An ad-hoc Security Peloton led by a recently promoted Teniente, but also supervised by the XO, rode in four more Chevy Silverados.

The Battalion Headquarters rode in three Chevy Blazers, and a MAN three-ton truck, with an M2HB .50 caliber heavy machinegun mounted on a ring mount on top of the cab. The Service and Support elements organic to the battalion, such as Supply, maintenance, Mess, and the Battalion Aid Station, rode in five medium trucks, three older Chevy pickup trucks, and two HMMWV FLA (Four-Litter Ambulance) for the Medics, and a five ton ‘wrecker’ truck (tow truck). The attachments from Zona Militar 5^/a mostly cargo trucks carrying supplies and a bit of extra ammo, especially for the mortars, an Engineer Peloton, some maintenance personnel, and augmentees to the Battalion Aid Station traveled in six more medium trucks, mostly MAN three-ton trucks, an M35A1 van truck and another five-ton wrecker for the maintenance section, and two more HMMWV FLA and a converted Blue Bird school bus, painted green, for evacuating casualties. Three five-ton fuel trucks would be vital if there were no functioning gas stations in Cuauhtémoc. Mixed amongst the larger vehicles were four Chevy Silverados, and three Chevy Blazers. A Military Intelligence cell rode in two of the Blazers; they reported directly to Zona Militar 5^/a and not to Teniente Coronel de Ribera.

Altogether, the convoy consisted of seventy vehicles, not counting some twenty trailers. The four vehicles of the Cazadores Peloton traveled three hundred to five hundred meters ahead of the rest of the battalion. The vehicles in the convoy were supposed to maintain a separation of twenty-five to fifty meters between each other. So, the convoy stretched out over four kilometers. It might look quite impressive to civilians, however, Teniente Coronel de Ribera had less than two hundred Infantry, not counting the Cazadores Peloton, the soldiers manning the heavy weapons, and some two dozen more Infantrymen not in a Line Company, and instead assigned to security duties.

It was not a lot of combat power to pacify an entire city, even a small one. There had been more Policia on duty in Cuauhtémoc, than he had Infantrymen. The Policia had been nearly as heavily armed as his Infantry. He would try to keep his forces concentrated, or at least within supporting distance. His biggest advantage, though few in number, were the heavy weapons, the likes of which were rarely used upon the Narcos. Most could only hit targets a kilometer, or perhaps fifteen hundred meters away. Only his two 81mm mortars had longer range. This must really be considered a crisis, because he was unrestricted in the use of his heavy weapons.

The Cazadores Peloton had slowed down as they approached a traffic jam that must be the tail of the 13^/a Batallon de la Policia Militar convoy. According to his GPS, they were about a kilometer short of the toll plaza that was used to designate Phase Line Pinzon. His convoy had to stop; they were being further delayed because Teniente Coronel Calleja could not keep his unit on schedule. Despite the traffic jam, it looked like his convoy could bypass the chaos, if they drove west in the eastbound lanes, since there was no oncoming traffic.

Teniente Coronel de Ribera switched his primary radio from the Battalion Net, to the frequency used by the Cazadores Peloton, and said, “Cossack Six One, this is Toro Zero Six, bypass this Charlie Foxtrot, and make a hole for our convoy to drive through!”

“Toro Zero Six, Cossack Six One. Roger, will do. Out.”

The four Short Wheel Base Land Rovers of the Cazadores Peloton swerved left, and sped down the eastbound lanes, passing the stalled convoy of Military Police. Soldado de Primera Reyes accelerated, closing the gap between the scouts and the commander’s SUV. Coronel de Ribera glanced back, pleased to see the rest of the vehicles of his convoy following him, without his having to make an announcement over the radio. Just in case, he switched his primary radio back to the Battalion Tactical Net. Military Police and other soldiers leaned out of the backs of their stalled trucks, or paused their pissing on the tires of their vehicles, to stare at the convoy passing them by.

“Matador Zero Three, this is Toro Zero Six. Phase Line Pinzon. Over.” Teniente Coronel de Ribera reported to Zona Militar 5^/a.

There was no reply to his radio message. The scout vehicles had slowed down a bit as they swerved around various obstacles, and not a few Military Police who were standing around in clumps. When an Officer attempted to step in front of the speeding Chevy Blazer, Soldado de Primera Reyes honked the horn, when Coronel de Ribera signaled for him to keep going. The driver of the MAN three-ton truck in their wake, laid on his horn as the grill of the truck filled his rear-view mirror. The agitated officer leaped out of the path of the racing vehicles; he made a rude gesture that was very inappropriate directed at a senior officer!

As they passed the stalled vehicles west of the toll plaza, they saw a HMMWV sandwiched between two M35A1 two-and-a-half ton trucks. The hood of the HMMWV was under the back of the first “Deuce and a Half” and the windshield of the ‘Humvee” was smashed into the tailgate and undercarriage of the big truck. The second “Deuce and a Half” had partially driven up the back of the wrecked HMMWV. A civilian ambulance was parked at the scene of the collision. A confused gaggle was thrown into turmoil as Teniente Coronel de Ribera’s convoy roared on by.

“Uh, Toro Six Zero, this is Matador Zero Three Romeo, um ... Say Again Last. Over.” Said a radio operator from Zona Militar 5^/a.

Teniente Coronel de Ribera paused for a few moments before replying, “I say again, Matador Zero Three, this is Toro Zero Six. Phase Line Pinzon. Over.”

“Uhh ... but, um, Culebra elements are still at Phase Line Pinzon ... according to their last reports. Uh, over.” Said a radio operator from Zona Militar 5^/a.

Coronel de Ribera said, “Roger Matador Zero Three Romeo. This is Toro Zero Six Actual. Culebra elements are, uh, dealing with a, um, situation. Toro is bypassing. Over.”

“Uhh ... Wait One. Over.” Matador Zero Three Romeo said.

“Madre Dios!” Subteniente Villanueva exclaimed.

Teniente Coronel de Ribera had been distracted by the radio conversation, keeping an eye on the soldiers and vehicles scattered about the highway, in case he needed to warn his driver to prevent a collision. The carnage of rotting corpses and burned-out vehicles had not really penetrated his consciousness. Now he ignored a wildly gesturing Teniente Coronel Calleja, to stare with consternation at the bloated and rotting remains of his fellow countrymen, and women. The chatter on the radio was merely an annoying buzz in his ear as he absorbed the horror at the macabre scene.