NINE

 

The mess hall at the Air Force base outside of Paris was packed with soldiers returning from Indochina and those on their way to Algeria. Bruno entered the hall and looked around until he spotted Coyle sitting at a table eating his breakfast with his crew, now missing its navigator. Bruno approached and said, “Coyle, do you have a minute?”

Coyle was surprised to see Bruno and said, “Sure. Pull up a bench. It’s Thursday. Aren’t you teaching at the institute.”

“Yes. Of course. But I am on… how do you say… a field trip,” said Bruno sitting across from Coyle.

“Where are you headed?”

“Algiers. If you have room.”

“Oh. Sure. Cargo hold is full up, but they booted my navigator off my crew so you can have his seat in the cockpit.”

“You lost your navigator?”

“Yeah. Apparently we are not allowed to get lost over the Mediterranean according to Air Force regulations. No navigator is required.”

“So you can fly without one… a navigator?”

“Yeah. It ain’t that far. Ya just gotta keep heading south once you hit water. You can use a compass, right?”

Bruno smiled and said, “Yes. The use of a compass is part of my skill set.”

“Great. You’re my navigator for this trip. So why the field trip to Algiers?”

“I am not sure. But when I am called by a general I go.”

“Probably a good strategy. Hey, I met another para commander on his way back from Indochina. Colonel Roger Trinquier. Do you know him?”

Bruno’s expression darkened on hearing Trinquier’s name. “Ah yes. He was commander of the Maquis in Laos and the Vietnamese highlands.”

“Maquis?”

“Guerilla units mostly from the highland tribes. Good fighters. They fought behind the lines and harassed the enemy.”

“Why weren’t they at Dien Bien Phu?”

“The Viet Minh hunted them down. Many were killed and their villages burned. They never made it to the garrison.”

“We could have used them.”

“Yes. But they served their purpose. They provided invaluable intel on Viet Minh troop movements and kept the Viet Minh from invading Laos after Dien Bien Phu fell. However their methods were… questionable.”

“Questionable?”

“Yes. You must remember the hill tribes hated the Viet Minh and they did not believe in taking prisoners unless it was to extract information. They were very effective.”

“You mean they used torture?”

“Yes. That is what I mean. Colonel Trinquier learned a great deal from his time with the Maquis. He was their commander, but also their student.”

 

 

French Army headquarters in Algiers was located next to the Kasbah – an ancient walled citadel that included the city’s main medina. Built on the side of a hill overlooking the city, the Kasbah was the heart of learning and religion. The citadel had originally contained over one hundred mosques, thirty-two mausoleums and twelve Zawiyas – religious schools and monasteries. Over the years of occupation, the French had destroy the majority of the religious buildings or converted them to Christian churches and military barracks.

The Kasbah had become a symbol of French oppression. The leaders of the FLN had taken up residency in the hundreds of abandoned buildings and hid among the thousands of Muslim homes within the citadel’s walls. They could rely on support from the neighborhood and were given plenty of warning whenever a French patrol came near.

The French Army headquarters was a fortified compound with high walls, well-guarded gates and an abundance of machine guns placed strategically around the compound and surrounded by sandbags. The general’s living quarters were built from a former Zawiya with its large courtyard where students would gather for prayer and drink from the center fountain. There were manicured gardens where the general and his staff could enjoy tea and relax while off duty. There was a large barracks for the troops that guarded the compound and patrolled the area immediately around it.

Bruno waited in the reception area outside the general’s office until he was called inside by the secretary. It was an impressive office with twenty foot walls and two electric ceiling fans that kept the room cool during the repressive summers. General Jacques Massu sat in an easy chair enjoying his afternoon tea with Colonel Trinquier and Major Paul Aussaresses seated on a couch. They all stood to return Bruno’s salute and shake his hand as Massu introduced them, “Thank you for coming, Colonel Bigeard. I trust your flight was not too bumpy?”

“It was fine, General. Thank you for asking,” said Bruno as he sat down per Massu’s invitation. Bruno was unsure why he had been called by Massu. French generals were not in the habit of interviewing Colonels for potential command or staff positions. Besides, he had only been at his present position at the institute for less than a year. He believed it was possible that the general wanted his advice on an upcoming para operation but when he saw Trinquier he knew that would be redundant. Trinquier was a well-qualified para commander with over a decade of combat experience like himself. Bruno knew he was not here to offer his opinion. Bruno was miffed.

“I believe you know my chief of staff - Colonel Trinquier?” said Massu.

“Yes. We fought together in the highlands of North Vietnam and in Laos,” said Bruno.

“Good to see you made it out, Bruno,” said Trinquier. “I heard it was quite difficult after the garrison fell.”

“Yes, well… I survived. Many didn’t,” said Bruno. “Your ears must be burning, Roger. I was just talking about you with a friend.”

“With whom might that be?”

“The pilot that flew me down. An American. Tom Coyle.”

“Yes, I remember. He was with you at Dien Bien Phu,” said Trinquier. “An American pilot of a C-119. Interesting…”

“Why is that interesting?” said Bruno.

“A boxcar can drop two platoons behind enemy lines at the same time. That makes it interesting.”

“I am sure you two will have a lot to talk about later at dinner. I am not sure you if you know Major Paul Aussaresses, my head of intelligence,” said Massu.

“I have heard of the Major, but I don’t believe we have ever met,” said Bruno.

“I imagine you are curious why I called you here. So I will get right to it,” said Massu. “I am sure you are familiar with the current situation with the Algerians and the FLN.”

“I am.”

“We have reason to believe that there will be a major mujahideen attack on Philippeville in the coming days. We thought you might like to come along as an observer.”

“As an observer?”

“Yes,” said Massu and chose his next words carefully. “Bruno, this war is like no other that France has fought before. It is a terrorist action through and through. The atrocities that the FLN are committing to the pied-noir and even their own people are horrendous. They go far beyond even what we saw in Indochina.”

“I have heard the stories,” said Bruno.

“They have no regard for morality or common conventions. They are truly fighting a war of terror and it is only growing worse.”

“And you want me to… observe this?”

“No, to be honest. We want to observe you.”

“I do not understand.”

“I am sure you have figured out that we are in need of strong commanders with combat experience. We all know you are more than qualified. What we don’t know is how far you are willing to go to achieve victory.”

“I would give my life for my country.”

“As would we. But this war may require more than that… it may require your very soul. Our objective is to completely wipe out the FLN. To hunt them down like the animals that they are. We will give no quarter and we ask for none in return.”

“The main problem is finding the bastards,” said Trinquier. “They hide among and are protected by the Muslim communities. Like the Viet Minh they can attack our troops one minute and vanish the next. The Muslims feel it is their religious duty to help and hide them. They threaten to kill anyone who cooperates with our forces or the pied-noir. Money will not loosen their tongues, so we must use other means.”

“I see,” said Bruno. “How did you find out about the planned attack?”

“My counter-insurgence team has setup a network of informants within the population,” said Aussaresses. “Some were agents for the FLN that we were able to turn. One of those agents works at the local semolina mill.”

“Semolina?” said Bruno.

“It’s the flour used to make the Algerian flatbread. It’s a staple and eaten at almost every meal,” said Trinquier.

Aussaresses continued, “About a week ago, one of my informants noticed that the mill’s warehouse was empty. We checked with the local bakeries and found that they too were low on their semolina supply. So, where was all the semolina going if not to the bakeries?”

“We questioned the mill owner and found out he had sold a large quantity of semolina to a mujahideen quartermaster.”

“He just told you that?”

“He did when we put a noose around his twelve year old daughter’s neck and threaten to hang her.”

“My God,” said Bruno.

“The girl is fine. The threat was enough to obtain the information we needed,” said Aussaresses.

“Information that will save hundreds of lives, Bruno,” said Massu.

Trinquier continued, “We now know that the mujahideen have a large contingent camped in the mountains just above Philippeville. The semolina is being used to feed them. We also know they intend to attack the pied-noir community in Philippeville the day after tomorrow. We will be ready for them.”

“We thought it prudent that you view our tactics first hand before committing to lead a unit under my command. We may not want the world or even France to know what we are required to do, but I will be damned if I will deceive my commanders,” said Massu. “If you decide to join us, it will be with open eyes.”

“And if not?”

“Then you will keep your mouth shut about what you see. Is that clear?” said Massu.

“Yes, sir,” said Bruno.

Bruno desperately wanted to command a combat unit again. Teaching at the institute was important but there was no comparison against the thrill of actual combat. Bruno was a warrior at heart and a born leader. He believed his training and experience were being wasted. He was a lieutenant colonel and after his next promotion he would not be allowed to fight with his combat unit. He would command at a distance like Massu. A desk jockey. The thought sickened him. Time was running out.

What Massu was offering may be his last opportunity to fight the enemies of France. He did not want to miss his chance to serve his country one last time on the battlefield. He knew what was being asked of him and that it went against his personal morals. Perhaps he could find a compromise and keep his hands clean. The only way to find out was to accept Massu’s offer and let them observe him. He wasn’t sure how he would react but a chance at a combat command was worth the risk.

 

 

Trinquier invited Bruno to join him for a drink in the garden after the meeting with Massu. Trinquier was like many officers and did not like Bruno but respected his ability as a fighter. It was well known that Bruno won the battles he fought. Trinquier knew he needed a bulldog to command his paratroopers. “Your friend, Coyle, do you think he will fly for us?” said Trinquier.

“I don’t know. In Vietnam he only flew cargo and occasionally troops for the Air Force. He once was a great fighter pilot but he has become a pacifist,” said Bruno.

“And yet, from what I hear, he fought at Dien Bien Phu.”

“Yes. For a woman.”

“The journalist, Brigitte Friang?”

“Yes.”

“She must be one hell of a woman.”

“She is.”

“So, you will ask him?”

“Me?”

“He is your friend.”

Bruno considered for a long moment. Was this part of their test to see if he was fit for command? “All right. I will ask him but I cannot guarantee his answer.”

“Ask nicely,” said Trinquier with a smile.

 

 

Massu stared out his office window and watched Bruno and Trinquier talk. Aussaresses was still with him and said, “I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone. That’s why you are so good at your job.”

“Why he is so important?”

“He is a hero.”

“Yes. And he will draw attention. Attention that we don’t want.”

“Now. No. But when all this is over and bombs are no longer killing Parisians during their morning coffee and the politicians have conveniently forgotten how they asked us to restore peace at all costs, the public will demand answers. There will be inquires as to what we have done and how we did it. The generals and politicians will demand a sacrifice. And who better to offer them than a hero?” said Massu.