Tom Seebode
Mission to Zaire
During May 1978 Angolan insurgents emboldened with Cuban forces and Cuban Advisers crossed into Zaire, formerly the Congo, into the interior of Africa, in the town of Kolwezi, Shaba Province. They inflicted murder and rampage on Kolwezi. France and Belgium were asked to assist Zaire by proving military support. France provided the French Foreign Legion; Belgium provided the drop aircraft. The Legion was dropped into a drop zone of a Soccer Field in Kolwezi at 600 feet using Belgian aircraft, three Trans-Alls and three C-130s. Three legionnaires missed the 120 yard drop-zone. Their mutilated bodies were discovered early by the main force. The word must have traveled quickly, because there were no prisoners taken. In the meantime the US was involved in helping to organize a Pan-African force led by Morocco to be commanded by a Colonel-General of the Moroccan Army. They were to be airlifted by C-5s from their respective countries through Kinshasa for refueling and into Lubumbashi, near Kolwezi.
I was on the first aircraft to Kinshasa from Charleston, AFB, SC as Mission Commander to the Airlift Command Element (ALCE). Also, a contingent of Combat Control Team members accompanied. At Kinshasa we were quartered at NSele, a red-Chinese base built for the Government of Zaire but then empty and not in use. We had no clean water; so, we were forced to use beer as a daily substitute,Tiger something-or-other. NSele was very well arranged for their taking intelligence of us. The quarters, living rooms, and bedrooms all had inside panels accessed from behind the closets and had camera associated slots fairly well placed. I did not find any cameras or microphones, but the hidden passages behind the walls certainly were there. I didn't go too far in.
We had two missions: the first was to assist the Pan-African forces by airlifting them to Lubumbashi, and the second was to extract the French Foreign Legion. Colonel Clyde Mule Bennett (All-American lineman from University of South Carolina, 53) and I were together as mission commanders. I was selected by the French and Belgian contingent and recommended by Mule to advise the Legion on proceeding on the ground to Lubumbashi air field and assembling the Legion there for extraction. Also, we were bringing Pan-African forces inbound from all-over Africa to replace the leaving Legion who were proceeding to Kinshasa and, thence, home to Corsica.
Next, I moved about half of the ALCE to Lubumbashi in the center of the interior of Africa. There was significant destruction: many shot-up, overturned, and burned out cars and damaged buildings. At Kinshasa we had all sorts of alpha-one intelligence as to the whereabouts of the Cuban-led Angolan forces. We had only meager communications connections about 12 hours each day. It is a lonely feeling to be isolated from continuous radio contact and left much to our own devices that far from Europe or the US. In fact this was the only time in my career that I actually sent a Flash, Top Secret, NOFORN message from anywhere much the less it was from a mobile communications truck in the middle of Africa.
We were given a limited number of aircraft sorties to accomplish the mission. As the French bivouacked around the facilities at Lubumbashi and the Pan-African forces began to arrive, we had one heck of an assembly of personnel carriers, jeeps, light-heavy artillery, weapons, ammo, and assorted soldiers in the hot African sun. We even had a reporter from Paris [Le Monde]--whom I had allowed to go in with us, there being no other mode of transportation.
We began to become concerned that we were making ourselves one attractive target for the departing Angolans and Cubans. With us was a US Chargé d'affairs from the US Embassy at Kinshasa. I decided to ask the Moroccan Colonel-General to set up some defensive listening outposts and defensive positions around the two-to- five-mile perimeter of the airfield. I, the Chargé d'affairs, and two of my trusted staff sought out a meeting with the General. As we approached his headquarters we were met by guards who menacingly pointed their loaded AK 47s at our sides and back and escorted us to the General who was sitting at a field table with three empty chairs. In French the Chargé d'affairs introduced himself and us. The negotiating began in French. In just a few minutes of translations and exchanges, the General could tell that I was ahead of the translation, and he began to laugh. I could understand most of the French being spoken. Colonel Alphonso Miehle would have been proud of me. The General began to talk directly to me in flawless English. Consider that five to seven AK 47s are still pointed directly at us. He assured me that he would consider our requests and to not be concerned. We left the meeting a bit more assured.
The French Legionnaires were the best, most disciplined, and most effective soldiers I have ever seen. The appearance of the Legionaries coming out of the Jungle was better than many American troops going into the sticks. The only problem was that they worked hard, and they played hard. As we moved the forklifts and equipment, both French and Pan-African, we began to find playful reminders that some of the Legionaries held some long-standing memories of some of the Pan-African nations now assembled. More-than-a-few grenade-booby-trapped pieces of equipment ware found, but none detonated. We were lucky to find them or . . . ; these we left to remind us of what they could have done.
On the afternoon and night after our key military tasks had been met--in a very magnificent hotel where most of the French and Belgian rank, our ALCE, as well as the expatriates who were displaced from their homes and plantations stayed, there being almost no other alternative. We managed to survive at the pool observing the lovely and tempting ladies who were displaced. Needless to say, we were 'in Rome' and were forced to stay at the pool all day except for the evening. We had to stay there in the same hotel also.
Late that evening among many parties celebrating the departure of the Angolans and the Cubans, some of the Legionaries were trying to remove all the liquor from behind the bar (read, drink). The bartenders weren't moving fast enough; so, some of the rank and file decided to speed things up a bit and began to shoot up the bar. As the shooting started I was coming down an elevator with some of the Combat Controllers. As we moved behind large columns with our weapons drawn, the shooting came to a stop. I had to make the decision whether to look for my own airmen in the same previously crowded bar. The bar was up a long series of pyramidal steps. I had to move from behind a column to the top of the steps and find a location where I could see into the bar. I looked around and realized that my Team members had gone up the elevator and returned with their weapons. They were in position to cover me. I started the long, steep climb and peered into the bar. Funny thing, all of the bar patrons were either on the floor or had ejected themselves out the door, down the steps and past me, or were behind the bar. There were three French Legionaries leaning against the bar with pistols more or less hanging toward the floor. Colonel Alphonso Miehle would have been again proud of me as I found myself entering the bar with as stern-a-look as I could muster uttering something like, "Allez! Allez! Cest temps pour dormir!" (After all, my third-section-Miehle-induced French is perfect.)
Now, picture that I was equally dressed for the occasion with a pair of khaki slacks, my dress fatigues shirt (mostly clean) and a fatigue hat with rank, and pistol at my side. The Legionaries looked at me, as-best-they-could from bleary eyes and saturated minds, and at the bartenders who now were beginning to appear cautiously from below the bar--which no longer had unshattered mirrors or unshattered bottles remaining. About that time one of the offending Legionaries gazed at me, motioned to the others, and they slowly departed the scene. None of our airmen were involved. The party was over. No casualties; just frayed nerves.
With mission accomplished we began to get ourselves out on the last C-141 aircraft. We flew from Lubumbashi to Kinshasa and then non-stop to Charleston. Needless to say, the last workdays even at Kinshasa were telling, and without water to bathe, wash, or shave we were a sight. We had been gone over three weeks. Landing at Charleston the shaggy heroes returning from the modern African Punic wars were met by our families. Carole even wangled a ride in the Follow-Me truck to waive us in. Mule Bennett and I later had to go to McGuire AFB to 21st Air Force for reporting. I caught the devil for using one too many sorties to get the job done. I had to respond that the first mission in and the last mission out was to preposition our own equipment. The Legion and the Pan-Africans were happy, or so history now records, and the world continued to turn. I have recounted that which is remembered with apologies due to our increasing age. Please read between the lines, and use your imagination for details best not elaborated on.