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GUNS BEHIND THE GREAT WALL

SOF in communist China? What a bizarre thought. My teams and I had been to a lot of weird places prior to our invitation to China, but not one of us ever thought we would be jogging the Great Wall, firing the latest PRC small arms and eating weird, “I don’t want to know” parts of plants, fish and fowl at the invitation of the Chinese com munist government with a bunch of Chicom generals.

SOF’s weapons guru, Peter Kokalis, was approached by contacts from the PRC in 1987, before the Berlin Wall came down, to test and evaluate a number of small arms never before seen outside the Bamboo Curtain. At the time, the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) of China ground forces were upgrading their weaponry since much of it consisted of decades-old Soviet designs. Although the communist bloc was spearheaded by the two large communist powers, and the Soviet Union was supplying arms to the Chinese when the two were not having their own Cold War, the Chinese lusted after the advanced weapons technology of the West, and still do.

Numbering some 3,625,000 regulars at the time, the PLA was the largest army in the world. Largest in numbers that is, not in military strength during most of the Cold War, but things were changing. Under-mechanized and largely equipped with outdated weaponry at all levels, the PLA was primarily a foot-mobile army that would find itself at a severe disadvantage were it to engage the Soviet Union in a major military con frontation at that time.

However, the move in the late 1980s from a previously Leninist society to “market socialism” provided the PLA with the avenues to upgrade its military potential through importation of Western technology and the de velopment of indigenous designs. Western authorities still regarded the Chinese defense industry as geared to the production of Soviet copies dat ing back to the 1950s. As we soon found out, this assessment no longer held true, at least in the area of military small arms.

SOF SCOOPS THE CIA . . . AGAIN

Adopted in 1984 by the PLA, the new Type 81 assault rifle and squad au tomatic weapon (SAW) gave Kokalis convincing proof that PRC designers were acutely tuned to the combat user’s requirements and were fully capa ble of executing designs that incorporated time-proven concepts alongside numerous innovative features.

We were soon to find out how the superficially soft-spoken, polite Chinese military officers were very cleverly sucking experts into their web.

It was no secret that SOF had never been moderate about its anti-communist position, well actually, its anti-communist stance was rabid. “COMMUNISM STOPS HERE” posters, with me as the poster boy, hung all over our offices, were in the magazine and sold like hotcakes. Every chance it got, SOFbashed the PRC’s form of government. We fought them in Korea and faced their fierce brutality at great cost. They backed the North Vietnamese and served them a perverted victory at an enormous cost to the United States. They had backed Robert Mugabe’s terrorists in Rhodesia which gave them another mark in the “dark side” book.

However, times and governments change. The Chinese, avid readers of the outspoken, commie-hating SOF, took note of the sophisticated cov erage of worldwide weapons by its experts and schemed to learn what SOF’s Peter Kokalis really knew.

SOF decided to adopt “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” concept, or at least that was the excuse for being seduced by the thought of what could prove to be a very dangerous mission. At the time the PRC was aid ing the anti-communists in Cambodia and Laos and providing large quan tities of Soviet killing items to the Afghan freedom fighters. (In April 1985, when SOF was training the Contras, we saw a half-million PRC-manufac tured 7.62x39mm rounds in a Contra base camp. How they got there? We don’t know.)

But why SOF ? Why not International Defense Review, Jane’s, Armed Forces Journal or any of a number of prestigious military trade magazines? Or, they could have invited a number of journalists from various publica tions if in fact the PRC’s main objective was to gain maximum exposure for its line of small arms for military sales. We wouldn’t get an answer to that mystery until we got to China.

I have been told that I have a superman-size ego, sometimes clouded by paranoia, which I admit to—but let those who have been on foreign leaders’ hit lists and on the CIA watch list cast the first stone. Curious as to why we were chosen for this mission, I decided to call a number of foreign affairs experts. Taking that old adage, “two brains of those in high places are better than one” seriously had saved my ass numerous times.

One source speculated that the invitation was some “Byzantine Chi nese plot” with unknown objectives. Lieutenant General Jack Singlaub, a long-time friend and accomplice, quoted an old Chinese proverb: “It is better to sit down across a table from an enemy you know than a friend you don’t know.” A well-known international defense consultant and mil itary author agreed with Singlaub: “The PRC would rather sit down with a known, hard-core anti-communist than a wishy-washy liberal. If Carter had been president, no rapprochement would have been affected with the PRC . . . [although it was in 1979 that the U.S. and Chinese relations soft ened] . The Chinese knew where Nixon stood and therefore felt comfort able in dealing with him.” So who was the common enemy for SOF and the Chinese? The Soviets were, with their nuclear weapons. The United States had played one against the other during President Reagan’s tenure. To taunt the Soviets, it sold weapons to the PLA after the U.S. and China established diplomatic relations.

At the same time, the United States was selling weapons to Taiwan, feeding the explosive tensions between that island republic and the main land. To China, with its non-negotiable “one China policy,” Taiwan was simply a breakaway non-sovereign that would be brought into the fold, probably by force.

All of this intrigue added to the mystique of the unexpected invitation to SOF. There were questions to be answered, mysteries to be solved and weapons to fire. It was time to go. The SOF team consisted of: faithful Peter Kokalis; Major Bob MacKenzie (promoted to Lieutenant Colonel before being KIA in Sierra Leone), a merc extraordinaire, Rhodesia, South Africa and had worked for various governments training their troops; and Vann, who was studying Mandarin Chinese at the university in Hong Kong, although the official language in Hong Kong was Cantonese; and me. There is nothing that the Chinese did not know about any of us since we had to present documents that identified us before we were granted visas.

Peter Kokalis, an American Greek could obsess about anything. Tall, wiry, with prominent jagged features and shooting brown eyes, Kokalis had a sharp, sarcastic wit, was quick to improvise and was such a diehard commie hater that he wanted nothing more than to join any fight against them or learn any secrets they held. MacKenzie had a seething anger un-derneath his steely exterior, but no one would guess it, as he usually com ported himself with utmost composure in dicey situations. Cold and hard as steel, to those who were weak and who became the conquered, he never gave another thought.

We had arrived at the airport in Beijing and, as usual, our signature camouflage-clad entourage drew a multitude of stares. Our hosts met us and took us to a rather splendid old hotel and assigned us rooms. Security lurked in the halls, trying to be invisible but not doing a very good job of it.

That first evening we had dinner with half-a-dozen of our hosts, in cluding a couple of Chinese generals. We were honored with all sorts of weird animal, poultry and fish parts and, thank goodness, lots of plain white rice. The waiters kept bringing on more and more courses and, with each course, more rounds of their vile alcohol.

Although we were jet-lagged and ready to pass out after the endless flight halfWay around the world, I called a strategy meeting in the room I was sharing with Kokalis. I mentioned something negative about the Chi nese military officials, calling them communist “dickheads,” or some such thing. Peter, very deep into his cups of white, tasteless Chinese moonshine, made of who knows what, that could knock an elephant off its feet, in full agreement with me, flipped the bird, “Fuck the Chinese!” We pointed to the cameras we had spotted in the room. That just got him going. This time he pointed his middle finger at the cameras and yelled even louder obscenities.

Mac didn’t find much humor in Peter’s antics, but we usually ignored the silent merc. That is until that first night in China, when we were lis tening to what soon became a Kokalis one-man show and Mac made his presence clear. Kokalis, one of those out-of-control drinkers, who was out spoken and feared no one even when he was sober, was not to be quieted, even by the formidable Mac. He cursed all “communist Chinamen” every where, even louder after Mac signaled vigorously for him to shut the hell up. I thought the two were going to come to blows. To inflame things even further, Vann, who had refused the Chinese moonshine, was sober and laughing, highly amused by the surreal scenario. Mac, annoyed because we were guests of military officials reputed to be the most ruthless on the planet, again ordered Kokalis to shut up. Mac pointed up to the cameras again, but Kokalis only got louder and cruder.

Eventually, Kokalis passed out without incident. I was amazed at how Mac kept his sober face, never finding for a moment any humor in the scene like one out of a half-star Cold War movie, with the main protago nists being a hard-core merc, a weapons expert and a semi-comatose pub lisher of a controversial military-style magazine.

Each day, the Chinese had the same tall, muscular, strongly chiseled featured chauffeur pick us up and take us out to the army bases, quite a way outside of Beijing. The soldiers were welcoming, no different from soldiers anywhere. They were curious, interested and very eager to learn English.

The days passed and we got plenty of trigger time with the Chinese weapons and rocket launchers. The Chinese were genuinely impressed with Kokalis’ vast knowledge, as well as the extensive experience that MacKenzie had acquired on various battlefields. Vann found it a great thrill to be one of the first non-military Westerners to fire an RPG, and the Chinese got a big kick out of it as well. However, I did notice that the announcer gave loud warnings that probably reverberated to Beijing through his micro phone when Vann approached the firing range. The laughing Chinese troops would then scramble to get out of the way.

The Chinese soldiers had let down their guard, warming to the free-spirited way of the Americans who were from a world with which they had no knowledge apart from what they gleaned from movies, if they were allowed to see them. The troops were learning English so much faster than they had in the classroom that one of the generals called Vann to his room and offered him a job helping them with their English. Vann politely de clined. Without the conveniences and luxuries of the West, the invitation to this ancient land held absolutely no appeal for Vann. However, the ges ture indicated that somehow, surprisingly, despite the first boisterous night, the shrewd general trusted our strange team.

We were in awe of the exotic Chinese architectural and archeological wonders, although all of us had spent considerable time in other parts of Asia. In Beijing, the chauffeur took us to all the famous Chinese sites and museums. Mac became especially animated when we visited the Revolu tionary History Museum and mausoleums erected for dead heroes. Kokalis was delighted with an exotic weapons collection unknown to Westerners.

HEY, WE’RE NOT BEYOND BEING TOURISTS . . .

We were free to wander around the wide streets and did so although we knew we were being watched. However, without our passports, which were confiscated upon our arrival, we could not go far. As in most third world countries, we were shocked by the abject poverty we witnessed while our hosts were living in luxurious mansions with armies of servants and eating the world’s delicacies, proudly showing off their rotund bellies. Peasants on bicycles were everywhere, cars drove in any direction, and carts pulled by donkeys, carrying a few meager goods, plodded down the roads. Mao would not have been happy.

The most spectacular Tiananmen Square, named after the Tiananmen Gate that was built during the Ming Dynasty in 1415 as an entrance to the Forbidden City, is the widest square in the world. Chairman Mao, the ruthless revolutionary/poet who founded the People’s Republic of China and brought China into the industrial age, had expanded the square several times, planning to fit half-a-million people in it. The Great Hall of the People and other magnificent buildings and fortresses reflected the great ness of the Chinese Empire. Mac and I jogged a small portion of the ex pansive 2,000-year-old Great Wall of China, deservedly on the list of the Great Wonders of the World.

The first night before dinner, I took my normal daily run in the smog-saturated Beijing air, polluted by thousands of coal burning cooking fires and industries. The locals regarded me with as much amazement as they would a six-foot black Nubian clothed in a leopard skin with a spear. With my first breath, the sulfurous air hammered me. I knew I should not con-tinue, but once again played stubborn/stupid and subsequently developed a dreadful, deep chest cough. That, however, did not prevent me jogging the Great Wall, a few days later.

Our chauffeur, a jovial man who had a ready smile once he got used to us, was enjoying his gig with the wacky Americans. But we realized that the class system was very much alive. He would sit on a stool in a different room with the other workers while we feasted with the Chinese officers. Being idealistic Americans, Vann asked the generals if he could dine with us and, much to their chagrin although they did not show it, they allowed it.

The generals I noticed, were beginning to show the signs of opulence, but were alert and cautious, and if anyone of us wandered a step away from where we should on the base, someone was there with lightning speed redi recting us back to the allowed areas.

The Chinese had a great sense of humor, and I am sure that the SOF delegation was the zaniest they had ever met. We had few inhibitions and provided them with two weeks of entertainment as well as expertise. The final banquet was one we would never forget and I am sure the generals didn’t either. We were once again around a large table spread with white tablecloths and the usual feast. The exotic courses at mealtime just kept on coming. Their version of white lightening was once again flowing, everyone was relaxed and we all seemed to be friends.

A few years later, we met up some of the military officials we had worked with in China at the SHOT show in Vegas. They, and scores of other Chinese, became regulars. They infiltrated the U.S. weapons industry and exploited the technology and expertise they obtained. China is pre dicted to be as advanced as the United States in nuclear and other weapon craft by 2020. Economically, they are overtaking one continent after the other.

SOF was in China before the Cold War ended. At that time China, a poverty-struck, totalitarian country, was on the road to becoming the world’s next superpower. In the following 25 years, China would advance by leaps and bounds, posing a threat to the other powers. Much, if not most, of their advancement was based on pirating U.S. technology, as Soviet spies had done at Los Alamos during World War II, or because U.S. administrations handed nuclear secrets to the emerging superpower on a silver plate, or, more recently, because of the rampant cyber spying and hacking of U.S. government and industrial sites.

SOF published the results of our T&E’s in the five issues following our Chinese adventure, something no other magazine had accomplished.