The next morning, Trautman put the loss of Rambo and Jorgenson aside. It was necessary to start dealing with what had really taken place on that mission.
Baker Team B had proved their ability to be well beyond any previous expectation.
God only knew what could have been achieved had there been two Baker Teams instead of just having the one in charge of fifty Montagnards.
They could bring half the Ho Chi Minh Trail down to the ground, for fuck’s sake.
In fact, if you launched an ad hoc campaign and then repeated it continuously, they may have been able to destroy the whole-damn thing.
Trautman looked over at the map of Laos and Cambodia again.
It's possible – he thought.
It really is.
In six months, Fort Bragg was going to make six more Baker Teams.
Six more badass Baker Teams.
He would make them take turns, alternating between defensive and offensive roles, giving them the time they needed to get their strength back between one mission and another.
One hundred and twenty men always on the field and always on a mission.
He intended to keep Baker Teams A and B, who were the first and best of them, as his own. Moreover, he had decided to use them solely for the most important missions.
They’ll be my personal SOG Rapid-Response Teams.
Most importantly, I’ll be the one commanding them.
Despite his ambitions, for the time being, he knew he needed to keep both feet on the ground.
Presently, there were only two Baker Teams at his disposal. One of which was full of soldiers that he considered to be “average” substitutes, simply men he hadn’t trained personally himself. The other Baker Team, Team B, was temporarily burnt out, justifiably so after completing the mission they had.
'Point of No Return' had lasted too long, had been too tiring and risky considering the team's level. Those men deserved to take a leave lasting at least a week or even longer if possible. If he could arrange more time between missions, he’d give them the chance to spend a few days in the 'real world'.*
Absolutely.
Now that his report for Washington report had been written all he'd left to do was de-brief the Minister of Defence, along with a few of the other Baker Team project heads.
Politically speaking, the Baker Teams were like bombs set to go off. The Colonel’s training program would become a milestone for the Special Forces in the generations to come.
He was sure of that by now and no longer had any doubts.
Results.
I’ve been striving for these kinds of results, this entire Goddamn war. Now that they’re finally documented they’re on their way to Washington. The president was even going to read them in person.
That wasn’t all however.
Trautman had big plans in mind for his men.
In addition to providing hope, that is.
Vietnam, and this Goddamn war in general, was, from the very beginning, a Special Forces kind of war – he thought.
The only problem was that they weren't ready yet.
They sure fucking weren't, not by a long shot.
When the United States went to Vietnam in 1965, it had no idea what jungle combat was really about. The new battlefront was the vast, jungle-covered territory in South Vietnam.
As far as Trautman was concerned, that was a thing of the past.
Two years – he thought.
Two years from now, our Special Forces will be completely different.
They’ll be bigger, stronger, but most importantly, much more qualified.
Not only that but even smarter, for fuck's sake.
I’ll make them so fucking smart they’ll be able to win this Goddamned war all by themselves. They won’t need any help from us.
It was possible.
It sure was.
Not the tanks, the air planes or infinite bombs were of any use when in Saigon, any old asshole could put a bomb in a school whenever he wanted.
That was where Trautman was going to make the difference: in the field of intelligence.
Exactly that.
Finally, that morning, for the first time in two years, Trautman felt optimistic.
He had both optimism and hope.