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Authors: Charlie A. Beckwith

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TWENTY-NINE

THE MEETING WAS
held at 0900 hours. As I went into the conference room, General Warner, who was standing waiting on General Rogers, repeated that the Chief of Staff of the Army had no plans to visit Delta.

Department of the Army had announced earlier that General Rogers would replace Gen. Alexander Haig in Europe. Before leaving Washington he had scheduled a farewell meeting of all the commanders at Fort Bragg. I had asked General Mackmull if General Rogers had any plans to look in on the Stockade. When he'd called General Warner's headquarters to find out, he had been told that no visit to Delta had been considered. I'd said to myself, if General Rogers comes to Bragg he will come to Delta. The staff had gotten ready, just in case.

General Rogers went around the room asking the senior commanders to give him a progress report of their commands and ideas they had that could contribute to his new assignment as NATO Commander. The exchange was open and some good recommendations came out of it. He then discussed his new role and what it would mean to everyone. It turned into a long meeting. As it began to wind down General Rogers scanned the back of the room till he found me, “As soon as I leave here I'm going down to see you.” “In that case, sir, I'd like permission to leave.” General Warner shrugged his shoulders, indicating this was the first he'd heard of it.

I jumped into my car and raced to the Stockade to follow up on our preparations.

Five minutes later, accompanied by Generals Warner and Mackmull, General Rogers stepped through the door. He asked what kind of shape we were in. “Sir, we're not the best counterterrorist force in the world, but there's nobody any better.” I then took the opportunity—he'd asked at the earlier meeting—to tell him I believed Special Ops in NATO had problems, particularly the viability of Special Ops plans in the event of a war. I also volunteered my services to help him.

Perhaps two months earlier I had heard a rumor that Moses, too, was going to be reassigned to Europe. Everyone in Delta called General Meyer “Moses.” He'd saved us so often he was always referred to by this biblical name. I wanted to learn from him if what I'd heard on the street was true, and if so, how this would impact on Delta. I made an appointment and then went up to the Pentagon to see him.

General Meyer told me he didn't really know if he was going to be reassigned when General Rogers left, but in any case Delta would continue with business as usual.

General Meyer had then shifted gears. He'd said, “You need to develop Task, Conditions, and Standards for Delta.” This meant, at its simplest: Task—fire your weapon; Condition—darkness; Standard—at 100 yards hit the bull's-eye with three rounds. Of course, Delta's would be far more difficult.

“Damn, General, that will take me a year.”

“No it won't. You'll do it in the next few months. You can't command Delta forever, Charlie. Its next CO will need a yardstick to measure Delta's status and progress. Otherwise he could reinvent the wheel and in so doing destroy the unit.”

I totally understood what General Meyer had meant, because I'd seen so many commanders come into the Special Forces and do just that—reinvent the wheel. Task, Conditions, and Standards would be a useful tool for any new incoming commander.

A lot of work was done on preparing this document. When completed it filled a large spiral notebook nicknamed “the Black Book,” and it covered all of Delta's skills. It spelled out what each individual had to be able to do, then what each patrol, troop, and squadron had to be able to do. About sixty
individual skills were listed, then probably twenty-five patrol skills, eight or ten troop skills, and three squadron skills. This last section was the shortest, simplest to name, and most difficult to accomplish: Take down three situations—barricade, open air, aircraft.

In April I took “the Black Book” to Moses for his blessing. He carefully read, then approved, the document. Because of the reassignment rumors I'd heard, I asked him to initial the cover page. “Charlie, that isn't necessary.” However, I was afraid if Moses left, Delta would be surgically whittled up and the pieces fed to the wolves.

Over beers, the Delta staff used to chew on this predicament. Someone once said, “Wouldn't it be a miracle if when Rogers leaves they made Moses Chief of Staff.” Which, of course, is exactly what happened in June of '79. Delta felt a wise and prudent decision had been made.

No matter how the changes at Department of the Army would affect Delta, the unit had to continue honing its skills. This included participating in two theater exercises—one with CINCPAC, the other with REDCOM. In the exercise with REDCOM at Key West, Florida, in February, we learned that Delta and the Rangers could interface smoothly and be a great deal of help to each other.

In the summer of 1979, the unit tried to get its oar in the water at the VIII Pan-American Games, which were being held in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Delta was not welcome. There was the FBI. The SAC (Special Agent in Charge), who was responsible for the Games' security, was an old Army Ranger. His point of view, “If I need any tanks or .50-caliber machine guns, I'll call on you.” After we finally got the chance to brief him, he reversed himself. He said he'd be stupid not to have us there. The Army and certain action officers in the JCS wanted us to pre-position a squadron on the island in the event of an incident. On the other hand, there were some Joint Staff officers—the same ones who perceived that General Meyer wound us up each morning and watched us run around his office—who got in the act and confused the issue. In any event, we lost the mission. Three of us, however, did get to
observe the Games' security arrangements and work with the FBI in their command center.

To be perfectly frank, during that summer (the last one I thought I would have as Delta's commander), I felt the unit had plateaued out. I'd be dishonest if I didn't say that. For one thing, we weren't shooting as much. The ammo sergeant could measure brass from what was left in the boxes. There was also a certain feel about the Stockade, the feel said, “flat.” To pick up the pace, get guys' adrenaline pumping, Delta ran some unannounced alerts: mostly in the early morning or late in the evening. A clock was put on these alerts in order to make the men work against something. The clock was never set to give anyone sufficient time to get everything done.

THIRTY

EVENTS THEN BEGAN
to pick up speed. General Rogers wrote from Europe to the new Army Chief of Staff, General Meyer. “The American side of NATO Special Operations is in bad shape. Beckwith has had Delta a long time. What would you think about sending him over?”

General Meyer told me, “You will take command of SOTFE [Special Operations Task Force Europe]. You can really help the Army there. Let's begin, Charlie, to look around for someone to replace you in Delta, and we'll make provision to send you to Germany around late October or early November. First we'll get Delta evaluated, then we'll send you off.”

A year had passed since Delta's last evaluation. The unit then was young and newly trained. Now there would be no reason for it not to excel. Delta had had its two years. It would never be in better shape. If any complacency had crept in during a slow summer, it was certainly dispelled when I announced that we would again be validated. The men of Delta tightened their belts and got down to business.

The Black Book was taken out of a file drawer and dusted off. In it were the standards the unit would be tested against. The operations people prepared an additional paper asking for a system of tests that excluded nurtured suspicions, latent resentments, and political maneuverings. The paper was straightforward and honest and explained how the unit could be tested to its ultimate capabilities. The unit needed to be tested, not in a duel of paper tigers, but in a viable, real-world scenario.

An offer was made, which was accepted, to place two of Delta's officers and a senior noncom on the evaluation team to help it construct solid tests that would truly reveal Delta's skill levels. This was the best time to show all the government agencies, which had so kindly given their advice and support, the quality the unit had achieved, and to receive back from them the recognition of Delta's status as a national asset.

An Exercise Directorate was established. It included Ambassador Anthony Quainton from the State Department's Office for Combating Terrorism, General Sam Wilson, representatives from the CIA, FBI, Department of Energy, FAA, the Secret Service, the Treasury and Justice Departments and selected Special Forces people who were made available by General Mackmull. Some of these men knew Delta Force, knew what the individual and organizational skills were, and could insure that the unit would be fairly judged on them. During the critique we were looking for insight, not hindsight. After it was over, Delta wanted to say, “It was a damn good test.” If it couldn't, then it made little difference whether it passed or failed.

The SAS sent an observer. The West German GSG-9 chief, Ulrich Wegener, came himself, and so did the French GIGN's Christian Prouteau. General Meyer was represented by his new DCSOPS, Lieutenant General Glenn K. Otis.

Delta submitted a shopping list of scenarios. We suggested, because taking down a 727 is different from taking down an L-1011, three aircraft scenarios, several open-air situations, and a few barricade assaults. All, of course, included hostages.

The first phase of the evaluation tested individual skills. The evaluators, not Delta, selected the men to be tested. I don't remember what my feelings or emotions were until the first day had ended. Then I felt wonderful. The hardest part was yet to come, but the first day had gone as expected. The shooters had performed well under stress, and the scenarios were tough and realistic. It was a day punctuated with the oooh's and aaah's of the evaluators. They'd never seen anything like it before.

Another day and night of individual skill testing proved to be a duplicate of the first.

The following morning Delta was alerted that it should be ready to move with all of its equipment.

The scenario, when it was finally revealed, explained that a terrorist incident had occurred overseas. The country, of course, was bogus. My role was to survey the incident and advance a recommendation on how Delta should proceed.

Shortly afterward, I, along with a radio operator and his communications package, were flown to Savannah. There we were told to wait in a nearby motel for several hours. This was the time that, if the crisis had been real, it would have taken us to fly to the actual location. Eight hours later we were moved to Fort Stewart, Georgia, where I was briefed on the situation. It was going to be very tough: two targets had to be taken down simultaneously. Command and control would be difficult enough, let alone the nature of both targets. There was just no way for the plane to be approached without the attackers being seen. The barricade situation was tougher yet. Hostage-holding terrorists were in two connected buildings and they had the flexibility to move from one building to the other. This scenario was so sophisticated and devious, it might as well have been real.

Since there was no way of knowing when the terrorists might begin killing hostages, the first task was to design an emergency plan. It was a straightforward assault I hoped would never have to be used, because the risks involved were high and the probability of success not very good. Once this plan was in place, work began in earnest on the primary maneuver.

At this time Delta Force was transported from Fort Bragg to Maxwell AFB in southern Alabama, where it staged for the move to Fort Stewart. Buckshot and the two squadron commanders joined me at the site. Because these operations are fast-moving, dynamic, and go down with a great deal of impact. Delta always did its own reconnaissance work and planning. It was at this time that many questions were answered: what size force, type and amount of equipment, time
of attack, communications needed, ruses to be used, further intelligence required, terrorists identified, hostages counted, support called in. These were critical tasks and on their being answered accurately, and wisely, rested the success of the mission.

The squadron commander responsible for the airplane, Major Coyote, had a problem. Its location. “I gotta get that 727 moved.” How? A problem with the APU (auxiliary power unit) that was feeding electricity to the plane was induced and, after long and very realistic negotiations with the terrorists, the plane was moved fifty feet to the location of another unit. Delta operators, dressed as maintenance people, did the moving, and while doing so made some important observations.

At dusk, on the 3rd of November—the evening promised to be balmy—Delta Force presented its plan in the event a force option was needed. Close questioning followed. Any politician who doesn't ask, “How many casualties will we take? What are the risks and what is the probability of success?” is obtuse. The planning group was put to the task for nearly two hours.

The decision to use force at any terrorist-controlled crisis site is always a political decision; it's not, nor should it be, a military one. Many times in this situation, the planners had to get clarification and then authority to do certain things. They were often frustrated by the “host” country, who had sovereignty, when certain prerequisites weren't granted. The original plan had to, therefore, be modified. It was further adjusted as the intelligence base grew.

Suddenly, a hostage was “killed.” The use of a force option seemed to be the only solution. Negotiations with the terrorists broke off. The snipers had been in position for several hours, and they continued to observe the two targets. The 727, after it had been moved, became manageable. The buildings remained difficult. However, this flexible target, through on-site intelligence gathering, slowly began being cut down to size.

Once the assault plan had been approved, a rehearsal was run on the Fort Stewart reservation, on buildings found to be similar to the ones being held by the role-playing terrorists.

A sliver of moon kept the night dark.

The warning came, “Delta should prepare itself to take down both targets.” A and B Squadrons slid into position.

“Take them down!”

Because the approach to the buildings proved more difficult than the approach to the 727, the plane went down about forty-five seconds before the buildings. A Squadron's assault on the plane was straightforward. Several entrances were simultaneously breached. The terrorists became rattled, and their concentration and resolve broke.

Delta inundated them!

Because of some very substantial barricades put up inside the buildings, it was decided by Fast Eddie and others that, to breach them successfully, high explosives would be required. When this was explained to the Directorate, in order to protect the role-players, the scenario was modified. Window frames were reamed out, doors were blown open, and from three directions Major Fitch's B Squadron stormed the buildings. Through corridors and into rooms the operators raced, clearing everything in their way. A complex and critical assignment; take down terrorists, save hostages. There's no more than seven seconds between entering a room and clearing it before the situation can go sour. It moves very fast. The drills for this, so meticulously worked on in the shooting house behind the Stockade, paid dividends here. All the hostages were released unhurt. The terrorists were taken down.

A few minutes before midnight the exercise ended. The medical people had gone in and taken care of all the simulated injuries. On the aircraft there was one actual serious injury. One of the female role-players refused to surrender and a Delta operator fired a blank .45 round near her face. She suffered bad powder burns. Delta's burn specialist went into action; as a result of his action the role-player suffered no permanent damage or scars.

A thorough debriefing followed the exercise, and representatives from all the key agencies gave their critiques. The quality of their response was impressive. Then the Exercise Directorate outlined the mission's objectives and voiced their
opinions. Delta received the highest marks. Ambassador Quainton, who had seen all the counterterrorist capabilities in the free world, was particularly complimentary. Finally, the foreign representatives were asked to state their opinions. The SAS response was classic. “You know, we play these games, too. Just like you chaps, the military, the Ministry of Defence, and the Foreign Office all participate. But, I must tell you, when we play, Maggie plays. We are very serious about it.” The way he said this and the way he looked around the room gave the impression he didn't think we were serious enough. Representatives, he implied, no matter how exalted, are no substitutes for the principal players who will, in a real national crisis, make the vital decisions. A lot of time was spent discussing the issue. It became crystal clear that some general, whether he wore one star or five, should not make the crucial decisions involving a terrorist incident. The military had built the tool, but the decision to use it would be politically based, and the authority would come from the Commander-in-Chief, the President. I wasn't sure in my own mind that some of the military types who sat in this briefing room understood this principle, but Ambassador Quainton made it very clear.

After midnight—it was now the 4th of November 1979—we went over to General Sam's motel room to talk over the events of the past few days. Sam Wilson, who occasionally enjoys a little squeezing from the vine, acted as host to my officers and others who were close friends of Delta.

Major Fitch, B Squadron's commander and the one responsible for taking down the barricaded buildings, thought I had not sent him in early enough. “If you had,” he said, “both squadrons would have acted in perfect accord.” This was a lick on me, and I agreed with his assessment. I learned something.

There were some pretty happy and tired people in this room. Some of us were relieved as well. Our technique worked; our principles were sound.

About 2:30 we went over to an all-night restaurant and ordered big breakfasts. Thoughts began running to getting back home and the party broke up. A few people worried about
their transportation, which had to be secured in the morning. I looked forward to several hours of solid sleep. It had been many days since I laid my head down on a pillow. Delta Force was already asleep in their billets at Fort Stewart.

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