Chapter 24: Another Morning with More Challenges

Mazatlán, Sinaloa State, Mexico
5:55 AM ZPT Thursday March 29^th 2018
(dialogue is spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

Raul de la Cruz woke at dawn, feeling more than a little disoriented. The bed was small, what the Yankees call a twin-bed, who knows why. The mattress was firm, and he had rested surprisingly well. Raul had not been home in more than six months, sleeping on cots at a construction site, or hotel rooms, and last night in the guest bedroom at ‘Abuela’ Maria Martinez’s tidy home in Mazatlán. Raul had slept in Jacinthe’s bed, and Tito “Oso” Ormond had slept in Manuel Martinez’s bed, judging by the comforters on each bed.

Savory aromas drew Raul into the orderly kitchen. Tito was cleaning as he went about preparing breakfast. Wisely saying nothing about the frilly apron Tito was wearing, Raul accepted a steaming cup of café de olla from the bear-like man. Obviously, Tito was a man of many talents, the contents of several skillets were nearly all done at the same time. Tito plated huevos rancheros upon corn tortillas, topped with salsa, with chorizo, refried beans, and slices of melon on the side.

They sat down and ate their hearty breakfast. Because they had cleaned out ‘Abuela’ Martinez’s fridge and pantry yesterday, they had stopped off last night and picked up groceries. After breakfast while Tito was washing and drying the dishes and flatware, then putting it back where they belonged, Raul made the beds, and then wiped down the shower and sink. They had showered before going to bed, as they had gotten a bit sweaty during yesterday’s activities, and didn’t want to get the borrowed beds too dirty or smelly.

After Raul had been bumped from his flight back el Norte, he had called Tito. The multi-talented driver had hung around on a hunch. Due to near stationary traffic, Raul had walked from the airport to meet up with Tito. While the savvy fixer worked his contacts, Raul had called ‘Abuela’ Martinez to request permission to stay in her home overnight. They had to get her on the phone again to get through the guard post to enter the gated community where her home was located.

About an hour after Raul had awakened there was a knock at the front door. Tito had gotten permission to park his town car in front of Señora Martinez’s home, because it was much less likely to be stolen parked there. The guy at the door was part of a lawn maintenance crew that had multiple contracts within this community. Tito had arranged for them to get a ride from Felipe last night. Tito and Raul ensured that they had all of their meager luggage, which they loaded into the back of the pickup truck. Tito locked up and concealed the key where ‘Abuela’ Martinez told him she kept it for emergencies.

It took them a bit more than half an hour for Felipe to drive them to an area of warehouses surrounded by chain-link fences topped by barbed wire. Tito called about five minutes before they arrived at their destination. As they pulled up an unsavory looking man was unlocking a padlock, then he removed a chain that secured the gate. After Tito and Raul passed through the gate with their bags, the man closed and locked the gate. Tito led Raul to a nearby warehouse.

Tito knocked, and the heavy door opened soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. Raul, a civil engineer noted the incongruities of the door compared to the disreputable appearance of the weathered building. Inside a rather frighting looking man pulled Tito in for an embrace. After they were done slapping each other’s backs, they ignored Raul. The man closed and locked the door, then led Tito and Raul to where a half dozen men and a forklift were loading a five-ton stake-back truck and two pickup trucks.

While Tito and Raul stood by, a quantity of crates, barrels, and large burlap bags were loaded into the backs of the trucks. Some of the burlap bags contained beans, rice, or coffee. Cases of bottled water were also loaded. A generator and several other pieces or parts of machinery were loaded onto the stake-back truck. Tito and Raul watched as the loading was completed, and then the cargos were covered with tarps. Once the crew had finished loading and tarping the cargo, they gathered near where Tito and Raul were standing.

A swarthy, brawny man glared at Raul, and asked Tito, “Ay. Muchacho, who is the Bato?”

Tito replied, “His name is Raul, he is an engineer, and he knows to keep his mouth shut.”

A stocky man with black plastic frame glasses asked, “Mining engineer?”

Tito nodded to Raul, so Raul said, “No, I am a civil engineer.”

The man with the glasses asked, “Does he know what he is getting into by traveling with us up into the Sierra Madre Occidental?”

Tito nodded again, Raul paused, took a deep breath, then said, “A couple of weeks ago I was working at a jobsite about thirty kilometers east of the Barranca del Cobre. Our site got overrun. I was fortunate to get away.”

The brawny man sneered, and said, “Ay caramba! You just ran away. Why are we letting a coward put us in danger?”

The man with the glasses asked, “Are you a coward?”

Raul hung his head and said quietly, “Yes. I am a coward. I did shoot one of the— attackers to save two of my comrades. But I didn’t stay and fight. I got my two comrades in my truck and I drove as fast as I could. There were too many to fight. I had already seen what they did to other people. People with guns. There were too many.”

The brawny man asked, “What is it you shot? What did you run away from, coward?”

Everyone was staring at Raul, and yet he noticed that the brawny man had not said who, but What had he shot, so, Raul said, “I shot a creature, before it could attack my comrades. I—I fled from Monsters. Hundreds of them, and thousands more following them.”

There were a variety of expressions on the visages on the group of hard men, but less doubt than Raul expected, so, getting out his laptop computer he said, “Let me show you.”

Soon he was playing the silent video from the security cameras of his uncle’s hacienda that had been under construction, then he said, “Who here thinks that if you had been there and stayed to fight you would have survived?”

Although several men seemed uncomfortable, and others shrugged, only the man with the glasses spoke, and he said, “We are wasting daylight. Let’s go.”

The man with the glasses waved the other men to the trucks, then he gestured for Tito and Raul to come over before asking, Raul in particular, “Are you at all familiar with this? It’s a Norinco type fifty-six carbine. Basically, a Russian S-K-S carbine.”

Raul took the offered weapon as he said, “I am more familiar with the Yankee M-four and A-R-fifteen carbines. But I have handled one of these before, I even fired a couple of rounds from one.” Raul proceeded to detach the magazine, work the bolt, inspect the chamber to ensure it was clear. He then checked the magazine, verifying it held bullets. He reinserted the magazine into the magazine well, chambered a round, and set the selector to safe.

Expressionless, the man with glasses nodded. He handed a second Norinco Type 56 carbine and two pouches with spare magazines to Tito who also cleared, then reloaded and safed the weapon he had been given. Tito’s actions were a bit faster, and certainly smoother than Raul’s None the less, both men demonstrated a minimum of competence in weapons handling and safety.

The man with glasses said, “You two take that truck. Jose will ride shotgun. You will be following the stake-back truck.”

Tito and Raul shook hands with Jose, a weaselly-looking man with a sparse mustache and beady eyes. His clothing was filthy, but the AKM (modernizírovannyj Avtomát Kalášnikova ‘Modernized Kalashnikov Automatic Rifle’ aka “AK-47”) that he clutched to his chest appeared to be clean and serviceable. Without saying a word to them, Jose climbed into the back of the bed of the pickup truck. Jose put on a serape and a sombrero, then wrapped his AKM in another serape and set it beside him. He was snug in a niche surrounded by crates and boxes.

Raul watched while Tito walked around the truck, checking the tires, and mirrors, as well as how the cargo was strapped down. The truck was an early 2000’s Chevy Silverado, it appeared to have once been some tan color, but it was hard to be certain what color it was under the grime; it probably would have been filthier if it hadn’t rained recently. Dents, scrapes, and body damage marked every quarter-panel, part of a fender had been cut away to prevent the tire from rubbing.

Tito handed Raul his knapsack, then Raul stored both packs, and his laptop bag in the cab behind the seat. Raul secured his uncle Braunfels’ Norinco pump-action shotgun into the gunrack above the seatback. He placed their small cooler in the middle of the bench seat and secured it with the middle seatbelt. Meanwhile Tito was checking the engine, verifying the fluids were topped off. Both men climbed in, and were relieved when the engine sounded to be in much better condition than the truck appeared to be.

Tito showed Raul where the barrel of the type 56 carbine could be shoved into clips that held it in place near the doorframe. Tito had stowed his own weapon in a similar manner. A man from the lead truck had opened a large roll-up metal door, and all three vehicles drove out. They waited for a minute as he closed the door, then climbed in the back of the lead king-cab pickup truck. A similar procedure was followed at the gate in the fence surrounding the warehouses.

Raul inquired with Tito about the legality of what they were doing. Tito’s answer was ambiguous, but the gist of it seemed to be a similar situation which applied to his uncle Rodrigo de la Cruz’s security forces. From what Tito had told Raul earlier, they were going to make a delivery to Yepachic, a small community that served a couple of mid-sized ranches and mines. Several of the men were Rurales, and so the convoy was notionally an element of the authorized militia.

Raul looked at Tito and said, “These guys don’t seem the trusting type. I figure you’ve got contacts, and you have a reputation as a driver. Not to mention you can handle—stuff. Why are they willing to let me tag along?”

Tito kept his eyes on the road and said, “None of those guys were too eager to be in the truck carrying the dynamite and other explosives.”

Snapping his head around to look at the tarped over cargo, Raul asked, “What about Jose?”

Tito said blandly, “Jose is not too smart.”

No more words were exchanged while Tito followed the other trucks through town. They took the most direct route to Carretera Federal 15D, a toll route that is well paved and maintained and would take them all the way to Los Mochis in northern Sinaloa state, and beyond. Because of the good condition of the interstate freeway, because of the tolls; it also meant less traffic. Despite the loads carried in the trucks they traveled at a steady 80kmph (~50mph). Tito and Raul didn’t talk too much for a while.

2km west of San Andres, Riva Palacio, 45 km ENE of Cuauhtémoc, 55 km West of the city of Chihuahua
0730 Hours (7:30 AM) ZPT (8:30 AM MST) Thursday March 29^th 2018{br}

(dialogue is spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

Cid Osorio, “El Cid” known here as Coronel Casmir Ehiztari of the Mexican Army’s Parachutist Fusiliers stood behind the officers of the 25th Independent Infantry Battalion of the Mexican Army. Along with Cid was Sergeant First Class Fernando Valesco, a former US Army CID agent, and current 18F Special Forces “Team Sergeant” and military intelligence expert from the 20th Special Forces Group, and a volunteer to Operation Nightingale. Valesco was posing as a Mayor in the Parachutist Fusiliers; the only other member of the team who, similar to Cid, could don and discard personas as needed for a mission.

It appeared that Cid’s calculations were correct, this isolated group of Mexican soldiers were desperate for medical and other support, and not inclined to ask many, if any questions of the medical personnel; nor even of their chaplain, nor the female member of their team; neither of which should be members of the Mexican Army. Mexican authorities were not going to be an issue for the foreseeable future. After listening to the morning briefing Cid and Valesco were inclined to think they might survive the next few days.

Cid was only able to perform cursory research of Mexican Army doctrine as part of his preparation for this mission. To him it seemed that Mexican doctrine had atrophied due to lack of a viable conventional foe. While elements of the Military Police and special operations units had been used in the conflict against the drug cartels, considerable effort had been made to keep the conventional forces of the Mexican army out of the mess. Lack of conventional foe meant there were no tanks, little artillery, and other problems.

Mexican doctrine is a mish-mash. In an effort to not be a clone of the US Army, nor anyone else, the Mexican armed forces purchased equipment from more than a dozen nations. Advisors from Israel, France, Germany, Brazil, Spain, as well as the USA and even communist China provided input. Determined to maintain a “national character” the authorities of the Mexican Army, and politicians had in equal measures meddled with, and neglected, doctrine for the Mexican Army.

Fortunately, light infantry tactics have not changed all that much since 1918. Technology such as light weight radios, GPS, and night vision devices have provided some advantages; as long as they function, and the batteries last. The 360 degree defensive perimeter, with a primary line of defense, supplemented with secondary and tertiary fall back positions; supported by machinegun and mortar positions would be recognizable to a US Army officer who fought in the Korean conflict of the early 1950’s or a recent graduate of the Infantry OBC⁽¹⁾ or for that matter any NATO or Chinese PLA⁽²⁾ officer too.

Only Teniente Coronel Heraldo de Ribera, the Battalion Commander, Mayor Raphael Jiménez, the XO, and Captain Primero Alberto Guerrero, CO of the 1^/a Compania Fusileros of the senior officers of the 25^/a Batallon de Infanteria had the same duties before and during the Battle of Cuauhtémoc. The battalion staff officers, and three of the company commanders were replacements. Casualties had been significant amongst the junior officers and NCOs too.

From the work they had already done constructing defensive positions, and from their conduct during the morning briefing, it would be hard to tell that many of these men had recently assumed greater responsibilities. Cid had watched and listened to recordings of these men in what was the worst hour in their lives. Perhaps they didn’t know they were defeated and should have been annihilated. Morale amongst the soldiers they led gave the impression that they believed they could win the next fight too.

Teniente Coronel Heraldo de Ribera concluded his briefing by asking, “Do you have anything to say Coronel Ehiztari?”

Cid / Ehiztari said, “After this meeting Mayor Valesco and I need to meet with Captains Rangel and Castaneda about setting up the one-hundred-twenty-millimeter mortars we brought, and integrating them with your plotted fires.”

He paused, then continued, “More importantly, I and the volunteers with me are not here to take command of anything. We are here as observers, and advisors. You men have demonstrated your courage and professionalism. You are all credits to Mexico and the Mexican Army. We respect that, anything we can do to assist you we will. Most of the people with me are medical personnel, and will do their utmost to preserve the lives of your wounded comrades. With the permission of Coronel de Ribera, we will speak more this evening.”

The officers hustled off to supervise their men who should be finishing breakfast, after seeing to their personal hygiene. Ehiztari noted that all of the officers were freshly shaved, and their uniforms were reasonably clean too. As Ehiztari and Valesco were about to meet with Captains Rangel and Castaneda, Teniente Coronel de Ribera gestured for Ehiztari to come with de Ribera and his Executive Officer, Mayor Jiménez.

The three senior officers didn’t speak to each other during the short walk to Teniente Coronel de Ribera’s quarters. Along the way they observed again the work that had been performed yesterday, and what tasks the soldiers were being assigned this morning. Professional is the best word to describe the conduct of the soldiers, NCOs, and junior officers; they were not enthusiastic, nor in high spirits, however, considering their experiences of the last 48 hours, they were not slacking, but rather performing their duties with a purpose.

Once inside Teniente Coronel de Ribera’s quarters, Mayor Jiménez tucked away the little notebook he habitually scribbled in anytime he walked about the battalion area; after getting a nod from de Ribera, Mayor Jiménez asked, “Coronel Ehiztari, you have radio communications with higher headquarters. Our radios and even cellphones are being jammed. Would you request them to contact Military Region Eleven in Torreón? Military Zone Five is no longer listening to us. They would have to listen to orders from General Micheltorenas to Med-Evac our most seriously wounded.”

Hesitating for a moment, Ehiztari replied, “I will make the request. However, you should not be hopeful. If I thought such a request would be successful, we would not be risking our lives with you. A further complication is that our aircraft that dropped the cannisters was shot at and damaged. Our medical personnel will do their best, but we should not expect any Medical Evacuation from an outside source.”

Gravely both Mexican Army officers nodded, then Teniente Coronel de Ribera stated, “Orders require us to hold until relieved. I now believe we are as unlikely to be relieved as we are to get medical evacuation. I am prepared for the consequences ... If they only fall upon me.”

Mayor Jiménez asked, “What is the purpose of our orders? We are ordered to hold low ground of no significance. According to reports of our reconnaissance unit, the enemy is currently occupying El Mirador on Carretera Federal sixteen. They seem to be advancing on Chihuahua but not preparing to attack us.”

Ehiztari asked, “Cavalry only, or infantry too?”

Teniente Coronel de Ribera said, “Infantry, and in substantial numbers. Our scouts were only able to observe for about an hour. They reported infantry patrols in platoon strength headed in the direction of Chihuahua, paralleling Carretera Federal sixteen. They did not observe any cavalry, but that doesn’t mean they are not forward of the infantry ... Or elsewhere.”

Ehiztari said, “Cavalry have some tactical mobility advantages over infantry, however, operationally they can’t march further in a day than physically fit infantry. There are usually more severe consequences for force marching cavalry, and it takes them longer to recover. Also, we have credible evidence of enemy forces in considerable strength to your south in the Sierra Madre Occidental. We believe a battalion strength force overran San Nicolas de Carretas and El Mirador a bit before midnight of the twenty-seventh. Just a few hours after your battalion passed through.”

Ehiztari continued, “We believe that these invaders have occupied Nonoava since the sixteenth of March. The Federales had a helicopter shot down around noon of that day. We believe they occupied most of the Gran Morelos district south of Carretera Federal sixteen soon after that incident. These invaders seem to be able to march impressive distances, even in mountainous terrain.”

Mayor Jiménez said, “They have trucks too. Our Cazadores reported at least a dozen present in El Mirador, they saw several arriving from the west, heavily loaded with infantry. They suspect that several of the trucks had been part of our column, captured after the battle.”

Ehiztari pondered, “I wonder how they operate them? More importantly how do they maintain them?”

Teniente Coronel de Ribera asked, “What do you mean?”

Ehiztari explained, “Iraqi soldiers had difficulty operating the Russian vehicles under Saddam. We had to devote significant resources and time teaching them how to operate and maintain the trucks and other vehicles we provided them after Oh-four. We can’t be positive, but I don’t think these guys had any trucks before they got here. How did they figure out how to operate trucks in what, ten days or less? Did they shoot any guns at you? Have any radios? Night vision?”

Teniente Coronel de Ribera said, “I don’t know about guns, there was a lot of noise. Much gunfire. There were also their terrible anti-vehicle weapons. I didn’t recognize the type. They are devastatingly effective. That’s why we are determined to dig strong field fortifications. I recall that they had flare guns, or something too.”

Mayor Jiménez said, “Swords, spears, and monstrous creatures wielding huge clubs, with metal studs or spikes. I didn’t notice any guns in the hands of any of the men or creatures that we fought. Bows, and some other weapons that fired short stubby arrows. At least a dozen of our soldiers were shot. Maybe their riflemen were in the rear ranks, or concealed. Sharpshooters or snipers.”

Ehiztari took a few moments before replying, “Perhaps they have guns too. It is possible some of your men were involved in a Blue-on-Blue engagement.”

Mayor Jiménez said, “What?”

Teniente Coronel de Ribera said, “Yankees have a new term of art for when your own soldiers shoot a friend by mistake in a firefight.”

Ehiztari said, “We could speculate endlessly. We have other things to do while we have daylight. The best information I have is that the enemy forces only occupied Cuauhtémoc a few days ago. Although, from information we got from the Federales, narco gangs, and other lawless elements seized control more than a week ago. We could not get reliable information from the Federales, so, that is when we began deploying resources to get our own information. Information we will share with you this evening.”

Teniente Coronel de Ribera asked, “Why wait until later to tell us what you know?”

Ehiztari said, “Your plan of defense is quite good. That should be our focus during daylight hours. Mayor Valesco is my intelligence expert, and I believe I will receive some additional information before this evening. With your permission, I would prefer if we include Captains Rangel and Garcia, we need to consider our logistics to determine how long we can hold this position. I think it would be beneficial to include the company commanders and Teniente Mercucio of the Cazadores.”

Mayor Jiménez pulled out his notebook, consulted it, then said, “We should have enough food for fifteen days. Thirty days if we go on short rations. Thanks to our resupply we now have three, maybe four basic loads of ammo for each of our soldiers. Two, maybe three thousand rounds per machinegun. That depends upon how many are reliable. Weapons maintenance and conducting test fires as we complete the machinegun bunkers and other firing positions, are a priority for later today.”

He continued, “We are not as well off for the mark-nineteen grenade launchers. About one-hundred-twenty rounds per mortar tube. We also have sufficient engineering supplies to complete our planned defenses. Do you require a more complete report Coronel Ehiztari?”

Ehiztari replied, “Within forty-eight hours we should develop a complete report. In the canisters that were dropped should be another basic load for your riflemen, and some machinegun and mortar ammo too. Primarily we brought medical supplies, but there are some other useful items which should be inventoried too. Most importantly, by this evening I expect a report on the medical condition of the seriously wounded, and as many other personnel as possible.”

Ehiztari stated, “You asked why we are defending here. Orders. Despite efforts to discredit both of you, as well as your officers and men, circumstances are likely to change. We should have better information in seventy-two hours or less. I believe it is extremely unlikely that hostile forces will trap us here before then. I recommend that you feed the troops full rations, at least as long as they are working hard. Even after that, if we need to withdraw, they should be as well fed and rested as possible.”

Ehiztari paused, looked both Mexican officers in their eyes before continuing, “The enemy did not rush to overrun Cuauhtémoc. We don’t think they will be hasty in their attack upon Chihuahua. If the Mexican army and the Federales can hold Chihuahua ... Three hundred infantry, between fifteen hundred to three thousand local, state, and federal police, perhaps one hundred armored cars, and sixteen artillery pieces are a significant force ... We don’t think they will be sufficient to defend Chihuahua. Ten days from now, or sooner, we may reassess.”

Ehizarti concluded, “One other thing, today, or tomorrow at the latest, we should salvage any food or other supplies from the nearby houses and other structures. It would be foolish to leave material for the enemy to exploit.”

⁽¹⁾ OBC: Officer Basic Course after graduating from ROTC (or USMA West Point) a 2LT attends a Branch specific course, such as Infantry

⁽²⁾ PLA: Peoples Liberation Army the armed forces of Communist China, the Air Force and Navy (PLAN) are branches of the PLA

Assembly Area for the 23^/a Batallon de Infanteria, 5 km West of the city of Chihuahua
0939 Hours (9:39 AM) ZPT Thursday March 29^th 2018{br}

(dialogue is spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

Rudely Teniente Coronel Esteban Mendoza’s sleep was disturbed by some obnoxious fool barking at him. He forced his eyes open, but his vision was still blurry. The first thing apparent to him was that the sun had risen, and it was full daylight, although it was still chilly in cab of his command Chevy Tahoe SUV. Yawning, he noticed his breath smelled bad, even to himself. It tasted like stale coffee and, things even less pleasant. Someone was thumping their fist against his window and still yelling.”

Teniente Coronel Mendoza hit the button to lower the window and was assailed by a storm of words, “Teniente Coronel Mendoza you are a disgrace to your unit and the Mexican Army! You are asleep on duty, and Failed to report to your assigned area of responsibility for Duty! I am recommending that you be Relieved For Cause!”

Mendoza forced open his door shoving back the loudmouthed oaf; Teniente Coronel Mendoza snapped, “You will address me with the proper respect due my rank and my position as a Battalion Commander in the Mexican Army!”

Coronel Mendoza placed his hands on his hips and said in a sharp tone, “I and the main body of my unit arrived at our designated Assembly Area ahead of schedule! None of the guides or liaisons promised were here. No one who I spoke to on the radio provided any information when I reported. Nor did anyone answer any of the phone lines at Zona Militar 5^/a! My troops had been up all day and night, and are expected to do their duties today as well, so, I ordered them to rest, and put out security.”

The officious and neatly dressed officer, wearing a “Class A” uniform, not combat fatigues, said with a snippy tone, “Can’t you follow a G-P-S? You are lost by several kilometers from your assigned location!”

Coronel Mendoza shouted, “Pinche Pendajo! Who the hell are you to speak to me in such a manner. Report to me, and salute when you do so!”

Thrusting out his chest, the bombastic officer shouted back, “I speak with the Authority of General Brigadier Vittoria Allende! I am Coronel Enrique Calleja, the Provost Marshal, and I should arrest you for dereliction of duty!”

Numbers of Teniente Coronel Mendoza’s men were stirring, several were muttering, scowls on their faces; Mendoza called to his Aid de Camp, “Julio, hand me a copy of our orders with the G-P-S location of our Assembly Area.”

Teniente Julio Navarro stepped out of the back of the SUV, an MP-5K hanging around his neck on its sling. Glaring at Coronel Allende, the junior officer reached into an officer’s map satchel and pulled out a manila folder with red and white diagonal stripes around the edges. He opened the folder, and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, folded several back then handed them to Coronel Mendoza; never taking his eyes off of Allende.