The Vanguard River raid

[drmarkbailey]

THE 2003 UPTICK

4th August, 2002. North West Coastal Highway, WA.
Fly up to Karratha, Elle had said. Hire a car, Elle had said. It will be fun Elle had said. Well from her position in the driver’s seat of the sweat box that was the army surplus Land Rover Cindi could have strangled Elle, or at least made her spend a couple of hours in the Landy.
When Cindi, a ‘gap year girl’ from Southern California, and her three fellow ‘gap year girls’ had arrived at Karratha they had discovered that when they pooled their money they could not afford to rent a car. The helpful hire-car agent at the airport had suggested they buy a car instead; there were plenty of old, but decent vehicles going for less than A$500 that would last them for as long their visit to Elle and her family took, and they could sell it when they were done.
Cindi added the car hire guy to her list, along with the guy who had sold her the Land Rover.
“Did me well enough when I was in the army, girlie.” The late middle aged, overweight and sweaty man had said. “Should do you Sheilas well enough too.”
His face grew serious, “I guarantee that it’s a reliable vehicle but it is not comfortable, I have had it checked by a local mechanic.”
The man had been so unfit that Cindi could not imagine him being in the Salvation Army, never mind the Australian one. However, he had given them a good deal on the vehicle, selling it to them for A$390 plus some water containers and a full tank of diesel.
“How much further is it, Cindi? I’m melting back here.” Rachel, a Canadian girl from Toronto, complained from the back.
“If you’d let me drive, or at least navigate we’d be there by now.” Emma, an English girl from the Home Counties added.
“Just because you are in your ROTC…” Helen, a farm-girl from Colorado began to say.
“Officer Training Corps.” Emma interrupted.
“Whatever, Emma.” Helen shot back. “You think you know everything, well the rest of us…”
Cindi screamed.
“IF YOU THREE DON’T SHUT UP I’M GOING TO PUT THIS CAR IN A DITCH! I SWEAR TO GOD...!
“Look there’s a police car, let’s stop and ask them how much further it is to Elle’s place.” Emma suggested. “Oooh, and some licentious soldiery, yum!” She added adjusting her T-shirt to make her cleavage more visible.
“Of course you should always ask a policeman when you are lost.” Rachel said in a mock English accent, giggling.
oOo
The Senior Constable of the Western Australian Police’s Traffic Enforcement Group stopped talking to his mate, a Sergeant of the Pilbara Regiment to watch the Land Rover pull up and park in front of his Holden Commodore.
“Gap year tourists I reckon.” He said simply.
“I reckon so.” The Sergeant agreed.
“Better go see what they want. Come on young, Phil, time for us to do our job.” He said to the Constable who was his partner, who was drinking some tea with the other members of the Pilbara Regiment patrol.
Once upon a time the TEG had been able to patrol single-manned on this part of the North-West Coast Highway. However, after two officers had been found shot dead in their cars, victims of suspected Indonesian infiltrators, nobody went anywhere on their own. Officers in rural areas also carried M4 carbines and a shotgun in their cars and maintained close liaison with the Pilbara Regiment and the RRF. They also carried modified EPIRB. If you were ambushed, you did not have time for a radio call. But you could hit a button.
“G’day, ladies how can we help?” The Senior Constable asked, his left hand resting against the roof of the Land Rover.
“We’re uh…well not exactly lost.” Cindi began to say. “We’re heading to a friend’s place, the O’Neil farm; do you know it?”
“Bill O’Neil? Overflow Downs Station?” The Senior Constable wondered. “He’s got a daughter about your age, Elle, so I guess that will be the place.
“Dave, you know Bill O’Neil, don’t you?” He asked the Sergeant. “His place is about a day’s drive from here, isn’t it?”
“Good man, Bill; he’s a Sergeant in the Royal Westerns.” The Sergeant replied. “Yup, his place is at least a day away from here.”
The Senior Constable glanced back into the Land Rover and spotted only two water containers. He shook his head.
“You girls don’t have enough water for the trip; you have to remember that you need enough for yourselves and for your vehicle. Did the bloke who sold you this not say how much you’d need?”
“He, well, he threw in those two containers for free when we bought the car.” Cindi offered.
The police officer asked who the seller had been and shook his head again when he found out.
“Well I’m going to have some serious words with him next time I’m in Karratha; he can’t be sending four youngsters like you on a long trip with as little water as that.
“Tell you what though, the Pilbara blokes have more than enough water; I’ll see if they will give you some.”
“Thank you, Officer.” The four girls said enthusiastically.
The Pilbara Regiment Sergeant smiled, having overhead the conversation.
“Get some of those big containers of water unloaded.” He told his patrol. “A couple of them ought to do.”
Emma and Helen got out of the Land Rover without thinking; their training and backgrounds respectively making it natural that they would want to help. It took Cindi and Rachael a moment or two to come to the realisation that they should help too.
oOo
“Got a feeling in my water. They’re going to run into trouble before they get to Bill O’Neil’s Station.” The Senior Constable remarked as he watched the Land Rover, now loaded with enough water, leave.
“Yup, I reckon you might just be right,” the Pilbara Regiment Sergeant said simply.
“We’d follow them, but they’ll be taking roads our Commodore can’t manage.”
“Any movement from the state government about getting you better vehicles?”
“No.”
The Senior Constable left his comment hanging.
“Well we’re heading up that way; I want to say hello to Bill anyway. His platoon is due to take its turn with the RRF next week.”
“So you’ll be there to rescue those damsels in distress then, Dave?” The policeman said smiling. “While all we get to do is issue speeding tickets.”
The Sergeant chuckled.
“Well nobody made you become a traffic copper, Angus.” He said. “I’ll give Bill a shout on the radio too; let him know his guests are on their way.”
5 August 2002
The KOPASSUS Sergeant and his team were waiting patiently for their next target. During the last five days they had blown up two army trucks and sniped at a police car; now the Sergeant was looking for a target that they could take intelligence from. Therefore his team had planted a command-detonated mine this time around.
The approaching Land Rover Perentie was elderly and a bit battered looking, but most of their targets were reservists, and they had the older kit. He lifted his binoculars to his eyes, being very careful to shade the lenses so that there would be no reflections. Hmm, it’s got the older style command vehicle aerial, he thought, that’s a good sign. It would seem to fit the bill; after all single vehicles were usually used to carry dispatches and personnel with important knowledge. Weren’t they?
As he pressed the clicker there was absolutely no doubt in the Indonesian’s mind that the vehicle was anything other than an Australian Army Land Rover.
The explosion was slightly in front of the Landrover and shattered the front end, it then smashed into the hole and flipped over, end for end and throwing objects all over the road, ending up upright with smoke pouring from what was left of the engine bay. Two of his men ran over and within seconds were frantically signalling for the team medic. The Sergeant ran over, through the clearing smoke and propped as he got to the first body.
“Oh God no!”
“Two more girls in there boss! This one’s still breathing! He had dragged the badly wounded girl out, the medic already frantically working on her.
He glanced at the Sergeant, a quick hand signal indicating that he did not hold out much hope. But… civilians, and young women. They’d do what they could.
oOo
The patrol from the Pilbara Regiment was close enough that they heard the distant pulse of the explosion and soon after saw the puffball ball of smoke rising up into the air.
“Jesus!” The Sergeant exclaimed. “Call it in, probable mine strike!”
The Pilbara Regiment soldiers deployed from their Land Rovers and moved quickly but stealthily towards the scene of the mine strike, mindful of the fact that troops responding to mine strikes in the past had been ambushed. They arrived in time to see four of the KOPASSUS at the wreckage of the vehicle they had just blown up. An obvious medic was kneeling on the road, working frantically on one of the girls.
Two of the three standing fell as they opened fire, one dived behind the wreck into the smoke. The medic had stopped the bleeding from the major wounds and was trying to rig an intravenous bag. He was on his knees and glanced up – he had no escape as he was the closest to the enraged Australians.
Corporal Batilatan mentally shrugged and thought to himself, I cannot run from here and won’t anyway, so they will shoot me, or they will not, meanwhile, I have to help this poor girl here. Medics were medics the world over.
Of course, they were KOPASSUS, and had left a covering team for just such an eventuality as the exploitation team went forward. A bloody, desperate little action began in the pitiless desert. Outgunned and with the exploitation team separated from then by a clear fire lane they began a hasty fall-back to the emergency RV. Two of the exploitation team, one wounded, were forced to separate. They moved away on the wrong side of the road. They’d have to really move to make the RV by looping around the ambush site and re-crossing the road. In accordance with their doctrine, they dumped excess gear so as to be able to make the speed they needed.
They covered Corporal Batilatan carefully as they approached him: he was all but ignoring them and had not stopped working on her. As the first Australian Private approached Batilatan looked up at him, and handed a bag of IV fluid to him, gesturing for him to hold it up.
Like many KOPASSUS, Batilatan had comprehensible English. “Private, this hold chest high… care, IV line no twist. No twist, yes?”
The Australian glanced down at shattered girl under the bandages and at the Indonesian’s bloody but gloved hands, taking in the low-visibility red cross, overlarge pack and lack of anything but a self-defence pistol. Medic. Obvious. He shouldered his old L1A1 and carefully took the IV bag, taking care not to twist the line.
oOo
The Pilbara Regiment soldiers were not the only ones to have heard the explosion. Bill O’Neil had decided to take his daughter Elle and drive out to meet their guests. Both father and daughter were members of the army reserve and as a matter of course had taken their Personal Protection Weapons with them –Bill having an old F1 sub-machine gun while Elle had a Browning pistol.
“Dad you don’t think..?” Elle wondered.
“I dunno, girl.” Bill replied. “I hope note, but we need to be on our guard.”
“Head’s up Elle, something’s spooked that big flock of Ringnecks!”
The Ringneck was a common parrot in these parts and worked the sparse vegetation in big, very noisy, flocks. They did not actually scare that easily. Yet that was a panic reaction by the whole flock at once.
Just then a man in a military uniform that both recognised as not being Australian ran from the thicker vegetation alongside the road, actually out in front of their Land Cruiser. Bill braked hard to a stop, slewing across the road to maximise cover – and to get his daughter on the opposite side of the vehicle to the enemy. Before he could stop her Elle had leapt out and using the engine block for cover was shooting.
Bill got out of the 4x4 just in time to spot a second soldier, who he brought down with a short burst from his F1: he fell bonelessly. He turned his attention back to the first man, seeing that Elle had also managed to hit her target. He was on the roadbed, calling out something, having tossed his weapon. He was frantically applying a tourniquet to his left leg, obviously broken and bleeding very badly.
“Nice shooting, girl.” He said patting Elle on the back. “We’d better head up the road and see if we can help whoever got hit by that mine.”
She was shaking. “Thank God I didn’t kill him!”
His head shot up, now hearing further firing. “Nope, we stay here for a bit. I’ll cover you, get over and drag him back here
She was a cattle-station girl and used to Jillaroo work: she scurried out and had little trouble dragging him back, then ran quickly out again to return with his rifle.
“Dad?”
“FAMAS F1, good rifle. Yours. Gimme for the moment it’s got more range than the F1. Get his ammo and then help with those leg wounds. We have a splint in the medkit.”
“He’s going in to shock.”

“We do our best, but no additional risks!”
oOo
Bill looked at the three covered bodies next to the smashed Landy, and at Elle weeping quietly beside them. They had not allowed her to get near the surviving girl, Emma. Ellie did not know her well, Cindi had been her friend, and Cindi was here. The Army men had taken Emma and the two Indonesian wounded down the road to a place where the Royal Flying Doctor Service aircraft could land.
The Indonesian medic was sharing some water with one of the Pilbara Regiment men. They’d relieved him of his pistol of course.
Bill jerked his chin at him. “What about him?”
The Sergeant scratched his head. “Dunno, this is a weird war. It’s not a real war in the legal sense, and the Indons are behaving well…”
Bill exploded. “Be fucked they are Jim, there’s three dead girls!!”
The Sergeant cut him off. “They thought it was a Pilbara regiment despatch vehicle, Jim. A couple of civvy vehicles passed over that mine. They had no idea it was not military, and look at that kid,” he jerked his chin towards the KOPASSUS medic, “he stayed with Emma all through our counter-attack. He just focussed on her.”
Bill deflated. “D’you think …..?”
“I talked to the medic, and to ours, who’s not trained to SF standards. She might. It’s all I can say.”
“But you don’t think she will.”
“We have done all we can do. But no, I don’t think her chances are good. And as for him,” he jerked his chin at the medic, “I suspect we’ll look after him very carefully, and exchange him.”
 
15 January 2003

The Vanguard River Raid

The planning had been meticulous and the insertion flawless. Which, Captain Tribowo mused, made a nice change for once. ABRI was dispersing efforts now that things were ramping up again. It had taken a while for the Americans, British and Canadians to forget their anger about the …. Unfortunate incident in the Pilbara. Now the aim was to be a bit smarter, keep the Australians off guard and forcing them to spread a lot of resources thinly across the vast, empty north of their continent. So staging from Merauke and steaming south, close to the western coastline of Cape York in a slow civilian landing barge had been a stroke of genius. They had twice been overflown by Coastwatch aircraft – the Dash-8’s all in grey, now, but being made up to look like one of the local – well, sort of local – barge company operators had worked. And in fact the old vessel was registered in Port Moresby, normally operated along the northern coast of PNG and had the usual dodgy-looking Melanesian crew. They were all really from Irian Jaya and were as loyal to Indonesia as anyone was.

They were also all ABRI.

The operation had been in planning for a year and was meant to pass a series of specific messages to Canberra. The most important of these was that Indonesia had changed its fundamental strategy for the first time since Merdeka, Indonesia could now reach out and hurt people, something it had never before been able to do. Tribowo was in awe of the sheer effort and resources it had taken. The cream of the joke as far as Tribowo was concerned lay in some of the internal complexities. For example, the landing barge really was headed to Kurumba to pick up second hand mining vehicles and miscellaneous equipment for Lae and Madang. This explained the vessel hugging the coast of Cape York, the empty 40-foot containers and the ‘unofficial trading goods’ the crew had. Nothing much, but no PNG crew would be caught dead without something like that. The only unusual thing about her was that she was clean. And the obviously half-Chinese owner-skipper explained that well enough. Even if questioned, the little ship routinely traded to Jayapura from Madang, so it was natural for some of her crew to be wantoks from Aitape

None of the commercial shipping was transmitting on AIS these days. Not after the Mandau class missile boats Badik and Keris had gotten away scot-free after they raided Groote Eylandt, sinking an Australian patrol vessel, a large merchant ship and three trawlers. Oh, and inserting a KOPASSUS raider team that had damaged, but very deliberately not destroyed, GEMCO’s manganese loader. The message there was also obvious, as charges to destroy it had been rigged and placed – and left unconnected. With telling little tags that said, in English ‘Safe to remove. Not booby trapped.’

This raid was another ground-breaker. It was the first time they had hit this far to the east, and it was a mission intended to send a special message.

Of course, there was the little problem of the powerful forces at RAAF Scherger, not least their roaming RRF. But a lot of thought had gone into this return to active operations against the continent and how a brand-new Indonesian capability should be demonstrated. Above all else, civilians were not to be put at risk. This was to be a clean fight between professionals to pass yet another specific message.

The best way to cover small, quiet operations is with big and noisy ones, he thought to himself, the General was right there. And so in about half an hour, the Australians would start to get alarming reports from their never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Jindalee OTHR as the strikes began to lift from Indonesian bases, and a few minutes after that the navy would join in with a salvo of SS-N-20 Sizzlers, which our Soviet allies call 3M-14E Klub-S, he thought to himself, from the now-refitted Cakra and Nanggala. Only four missiles each, and all on Curtin. They did not want to attack Darwin because it was a city, not an isolated base. Scherger was just not accessible by submarine and these were the bases by which their airpower could be projected against Indonesia. The Gulf of Carpentaria was simply too shallow to allow the subs near it. The strikes headed for Darwin would turn around well short of engagement ranges, feints to demonstrate capability. Not one weapon would be fired anywhere near Darwin. But the strike coming out of Merauke was anything but a feint. There were only a handful of F-18 at Scherger, an elderly TPS-43 MCRU and none of their extremely dangerous Wedgetails. Like all RAAF bases it also lacked long range SAM. No, Scherger was going to get pounded and when the F-18’s came up they were going to get a very severe shock.

But not for long.

This was going to be so much fun.

oOo

They’d been dropped off two days previously in three big aluminium semi-open boats, ‘tinnies’ the locals called them, and they had looked and acted like a well-equipped tourist group on a fishing trip. That had bought the time for the barge to lay her mines off Weipa and Kurumba. Not big fields, only eight each, and to be frank not modern mines. But enough against the small number of merchant ships operating in the Gulf. They’d stayed offshore for a bit, catching some spectacular (and delicious) fish, then entered the Vanguard River.

The target was Vanguard River Station.

Vanguard River Station.jpg

It was, of course, defended. But not well. And at this time of year it was well attended by tourists. The Captain picked up his briefing pack again and thumbed past the maps and other material to the general description.

Vanguard River Station
Land Size: 170,000 hectares
Location: 360km west of Mareeba and 220km north of Normanton on the Vanguard River.
Total area – 170,000 ha (420,080 acres)
3,561ha (8,800 acres) – camping and water reserve
653.4ha (1,570 acres) – aircraft and landing reserve
Country: Records show the wet season at Vanguard River rarely fails. Additionally due to the property location in the delta between the Palmer and Mitchell Rivers, which rises some 300km to the east, and the Vanguard River, which has its origins some 100 km to the North East, Vanguard River is most often the beneficiary of rainfall over a very large, high rainfall, catchment area. Again due to the flat topography of the property the overland water flow is almost always sufficient to fill the myriad of channels, lagoons, waterholes and swamps. The legendary ‘Vanguard River Lake’ is a 5km long waterhole on Jasmin’s Creek and is reputed to be up to 6m in depth. There are a number of dams on the property and creation of additional dams is a simple as excavating almost any seasonal swamp. The majority of the country is flat, open natural forest covered with blue grass, rice grass and spear grass with areas of black soil and regular sand ridges traversing the property. Vanguard River savannah country is timbered by Box, Bloodwood, Quinine, Ironwood, Beefwood, Pear Tree (Cocky Apple), Gutter Perch and Tea Tree with the Vanguard River frontage and floodout being dominated by giant Turpentine & Leichhardt trees, Coolibah, Blue Gum, Bauhinia, Century Palms, Figtree and shrubs. The Vanguard River frontage has very different soil types and vegetation when compared to the Nassau River. Single frontage to Vanguard River produce some heavier carrying country with areas of green river couch all year in the channels.
Pasture Improvement: Evidence across similar forest country throughout the Gulf and Peninsula indicates that Stylos will proliferate. DAFF research also indicates substantial upside in animal performance once stylos are established.
Rainfall: A reliable 1000mm/yr (40inches) each wet season from October till April.
Water: Natural water is a feature of Vanguard River. Vanguard River Lake , waterholes, channels, lagoons and semi- permanent swamps compliment the Jasmin’s 30km frontage and the Vanguard River 50km frontage. There are numerous dams in the drier forest areas and a bore at house. Permits and sites approved for two artesian flowing bores were in place during previous ownership.
Fencing: Fully Boundary fenced, extensive fencing completed 2000-2002, 3-barb construction, some new fencing, majority older but in serviceable condition, 15 main paddocks and 10 holding paddocks.
Infrastructure: Homestead complex is located on the bank of a lagoon and adjacent the Normanton-Musgrave main road.
Manager’s residence, highset, 3-bedroom
Original residence, old Queenslander, highset, 3-bedroom
Staff dining
2 x 4 bedroom men’s quarters, Head stockman’s 2 bedroom residence
Self-contained donga – currently used as school room
Machinery shed/workshop, 3-bay, Stockfeed/machinery shed, 5-bay
Excellent all weather, 1200m, air strip
40 KVA & 30 KVA Generator sets
Solar Power
Cattle Yards:
Homestead cattle yard – timber and steel construction with dip, steel work completed in 2001.
Black Gin yard – steel & timber construction
Plant & Machinery: Basic plant
Stock: Included is a good quality, though aged, Brahman cross herd of approximately 7000 head. Females joined to Elrose, Lancefield, El- Jay, Wilangi and the Orient Bulls (all grey)
Tourism – hunting, fishing & wildlife: Vanguard River Station is located between the Jasmin & Vanguard Rivers which junction downstream to the north. The land between those two rivers is punctuated by a number of creeks and channels all running north west to form a delta of swamps and waterholes with features throughout the property such as Vanguard River Lake, the Vanguard River gorges, Shark Hole, The Falls and the Mitchell River are legendary as some of Cape York Peninsula’s best. As the home of Barramundi, Saratoga, Bull Sharks, Crocodile, Sword Fish, Rays and numerous smaller fish species a trip to the crystal clear waters of Shark Hole, The Falls and The Vanguard River is simply amazing. Wildlife on the river and throughout Vanguard River includes Sea Eagles, Pelican, Jabiru, colourful Kingfishers, Bluewing Kookaburras, Sirus Cranes, Goanna and several species of wild ducks, waterbirds, wallabies and more. Wild boar hunting is a pastime enjoyed by many. Vanguard River with its numerous waterholes and swamps houses a seemingly endless supply of trophy sized boars which are hunted using rifle, bow & arrow, dogs and helicopter. Vanguard River contains a mix of unique habitat, Palm forests, open sand ridge savannah, fertile river frontages, and abundant waterholes which are largely in pristine condition and well suited to ecotourism, and hunting & fishing safari tourism venture.

Vanguard River Station and airfield were nothing in themselves and he really expected little fighting (although he did not tell his men that). But the place would be burned out, including the tourist’s vehicles.

He’d not touch a hair on their heads, either.

And perhaps 80 tourists present, he thought. Make very sure they get the message, and minimum casualties, if any.
The approach was easy, they’d crossed the bar at dusk and were slowly motoring up the river very overtly. There would be people camped along the course of the river although well back from it so they did not get eaten by crocodiles. But three lit boats with tourists in them making their way back to the station during tourist season? What was more normal than that?

The quiet burbling of the engines stopped as the electric thrusters took over.

‘Thousand metres to run, sir,’ said the Sergeant on the GPS. He did not whisper, he spoke softly. Whispers carried further at night. Triwbowo nodded and his men rapidly stripped off their outer garments and donned their webbing, hands flicking expertly over the weapons, checking magazines – but no grenades. They had demo, but the grenades were still in a carrier, and were only to be used if there was strong resistance.

And they had RPG-29 for that, with both the PG-29V anti-tank/anti-bunker round and the TBG-29V thermobaric anti-personnel round. Again, he’d use neither if he could get away with it. This was all about finesse and passing a carefully calibrated message. He quickly checked his RPG-men to make sure that both of their 1PN51-2 night sights were functioning properly, then donned his own NVG.

The boats nosed in to the bank of the river and his men rapidly fanned out.

Ten minutes later they had eyeballs on the airfield, and a problem.

Tribowo considered his problem. Two Bushmasters and two six wheeled Perenties. He examined the Bushmasters carefully. Hmm. Older versions. And just two sentries in the thermal imager, with SLR, one at the vehicles and one next to the new accommodation shed. Therefore this was a reserve platoon at its nice, safe, remote base. This was a perfectly valid military target and all the tourists were over on near the river banks, not here at the airstrip. He grinned and tapped his senior Sergeant on the shoulder.

A minute later, he heard three clicks on the tactical comms. The team at the homestead was in place. His other Sergeant was a solid, reliable man and he had the main, and softer, target. There was no sentry there and the landowners were reserves themselves, but their family was in those houses. Which was why the assault team there was using stun grenades, flash-bangs and tasers. The plan there was to break their resistance without killing anyone.

This was a demonstration, not a massacre. And there were probably children in that house.

You open a surprise attack with your most effective weapons, he thought to himself as he shot the vehicle sentry, and two thermobaric rounds into the shed from the RPG were pretty effective. It became one huge rampaging fireball edged by scything wings of corrugated iron, jet-black against the brilliance of the blasts.

Bandar Udara Mopah Merauke

As close together as they dared – and that was close indeed with pilots this good – the first trio of Flankers shrieked down the runway at maximum takeoff power, their wings heavy with ordnance.

RAAF Edinburgh – JCC

The watch commander was talking to JOC. ‘Dawn is approaching sir, so performance is starting to degrade due to ionospherics, but yet, the picture is clear, three raids. Count is soft but two big raids are tracking to Darwin, looks like about twelve to eighteen in each, and four to six out of Merauke tracking to Scherger. Yes sir, feed is confirmed live to Darwin CAOC, relevant base ops, the HQ’s, MIC and JOC.’ He paused. ‘No sir, I am not qualified to say that and the system cannot delineate types. All fast-movers is all I can say. Yes sir, will do.’

The Watch Flight Sergeant looked at his Flight Lieutenant. ‘Dumb questions, boss?’

‘Yeah. They still don’t seem to understand what the system can and cannot do. It’s not ISAR, for goodness sake.’

He looked at the plot.

‘Everyone is scrambling.’

Even as he spoke the words he knew how unnecessary they were.

Vanguard River

Well, what the hell do I do now, Tribowo thought, he’s an unauthorised combatant under the rules of war, so I should execute him. But my mission says … ah.

‘Get the landowner, the policeman, twenty civilian tourist hostages with their hands bound. Bring the landowner and policeman here after the hostages are tied to that fence there. And stand this franc-tireur up here. He is not to receive any medical assistance from us. Move! The exfil will be here in twenty minutes.’

It was done in five. The shaken landowner – a wounded Reserve Army Lieutenant – and the policeman arrived to find an appalling sight. Twenty civilians tied to a fence line with four KOPASSUS soldiers standing, obviously ready to shoot them.

Lashed to a post was a wounded civilian. Next to him was a bodybag, open, with a very dead Indonesian soldier in it.

The Sergeant prodded the landowner to remind him to salute. He was in uniform.

‘Lieutenant Perkins, I will ascribe your slowness to shock and wounds rather than discourtesy. We have a problem here. This man,’ he gestured at the wounded hunter, ‘is a civilian. He shot and killed one of my men. Had you taken him into your local defence organisation here?’

Perkins looked at him. Oh. I know what that means, and I will not lie.

‘No sir, I had not. He is not an authorised combatant. He is not in my chain of command.’ He glanced at the terrified tourists. Oh dear Lord no, he’s within his rights to execute him and to extract reprisal.

‘I thought not.’ He glanced at the video camera recording the scene. ‘Under the laws of war, this man is a francs-tireur, an unauthorised military combatant. Do you agree with this, Lieutenant Perkins?’

Perkins gathered the tattered remnants of his pride around him. He’d seen the camera as well. ‘Yes, sir, I do. He is not one of my reservists. He is not in my chain of command. He is not under my orders.’

‘Very well. Under the laws of war, I am fully able to execute him and to extract reprisal by also executing these twenty civilians. Do you agree that this is the case, Lieutenant Perkins?’

He nodded jerkily. ‘Yes, sir. Insofar as my understanding goes, I believe that to be correct.’ Perkins gulped, his face setting into a stone mask.

‘Very well. The Armed Forces of the Republic of Indonesia are a civilised force, Lieutenant.’

He looked at the corpse in the bodybag.

‘I will forgo legal reprisal. And I will forgo even the execution of this francs-tireur, Lieutenant, if you give me the word of honour of both yourself as an officer in the Australian Army and through you of the Australian Army itself, that this francs-tireur will be tried by a military court for being an unauthorised combatant, and for the murder of Private Bambang Sisentaro, Army of the Republic of Indonesia. You will note that not one civilian has been killed or even severely wounded in this raid.’

He nodded at his men, who walked over to the hostages and proceeded to untie them.

‘If you cannot give me that word, Lieutenant, I will execute him, but will in any case forgo the reprisal. I would find that to be uncivilised and … demeaning to the honour of my Army.’

He looked at the much older man and spoke gently. ‘I understand the difficulty of your situation, Lieutenant Perkins, yet I must insist on an answer. Now.’

Perkins closed his eyes and nodded jerkily. ‘I take custody of this man, and will hand him over to Constable Benjamin here to be secured here on Army account. On my word of honour and of that of the Australian Army, I will ensure that he is tried by a military court for the murder of your soldier.’

Tribowo nodded, and handed over a sheet of paper. ‘Thank you. This … disagreement between our nations is a professional matter for soldiers, not for civilians. It is our job as professionals to implement the wills of our respective governments. This document contains some necessary details and statements from my men who saw this francs-tireur open fire on and kill Private Sisentaro. They then engaged, wounded and captured him. I require that you examine Private Sisentaro’s body so that you and the policeman can testify that he was killed by a single round to the head, from the front. I will hand the francs-tireur’s weapon over to you and get you to sign for it. As formal evidence of this crime. I will ensure that further details are provided through diplomatic channels. I have had all of this video taped and will ensure that an unaltered copy of that video is delivered through diplomatic channels. Is this satisfactory?’

Perkins nodded. ‘Yes sir.’

‘Very well. Thank you, Lieutenant Perkins, for permitting us to find a way to avoid reprisal or field execution. This disagreement between us is as it lies, and ABRI has no intention of taking it beyond our professional military and yours, doing the duties our governments assign us. We must not stoop to uncivilised behaviour outside the laws of war, as this francs-tireur has. It speaks well of the honour of your Army that you will, on your honour, deal properly with this murderer.’

His Sergeant gave him a look which Tribowo interpreted as ‘don’t lay it on too thick boss.’ Then he glanced at his watch.

In the middle distance, the station buildings and everything else burned. All but one house – Tribowo had spared the private residence for the sake of Perkins young children.

Tribowo dismissed the prisoner and got his men to get the civilians clear. The CN-235 was due in seven minutes.

Gulf of Carpentaria – Falcon Six. Flying Officer Williams put her F/A-18A into a vertical dive and lit the afterburner, her RWR screaming at the multiple threats. There were four fireballs far ahead where the first wave of Hornets had died.

Bushwhacked, by God! Jindalee had said there were six enemy Flankers, not eighteen! Her reactions were slightly faster than her three compatriots. She pulled back hard as the Gulf of Carpentaria swelled before her like a wargod’s fist. She greyed out briefly under the G-force, glanced back at the three fireballs above her and the puffy smoke from the explosion in her chaff and flare stream.

Crap. She activated her radar. Where. There. She pickled off two AIM-120 at the closest target and then two more at the second closest. Then she turned and fled, on the deck. One could not fight six, and the AMRAAM should keep their attention for long enough for her to escape.

Shortly after she left, so low and so fast that she left a rooster tail of saltwater, there was a single explosion in the distant sky. One for seven.

Petir Lead

The six Su-30 closed up. Not bad, one Su-27 lost for seven of the Australian Hornets. The trap had worked well. The enemy radars were still up – no choices for them there – so the Petir flight fired a salvo of Kh-31P as they crossed the 50nm range ring. First salvo, Kh-59s, would be arriving in seconds. He grinned inside his helmet. Let them try to stop Kh-59s with the pathetic defences they had!

He kept an ear on the Kilat fighters as they hunted other aircraft. They’d already killed one Navy S-2T and a Dash-8 patrol aircraft, and had a positive ID on a P-3C frantically trying to clear Scherger at treetop height. He saw it die on his own radar as a pair of R-27 blew it apart five miles from the runway. A C-47 died five seconds later.

Approvingly but silently, he nodded as the Kilat pilots identified the commercial airliner approaching Weipa, squawking commercial.

‘QANTAS QF2736 this is Indonesian military aircraft Lead. Be warned that we are conducting offensive operations in this area. Alter your course to the south to clear the area immediately. Keep your transponder on to ensure your own safety. Do you copy, over.’

‘Indonesian military aircraft this is QF2736. I have 49 passengers on board! Understand and am complying. Altering course now. Course is 180 due south at 6000 feet. I do not have the fuel to return to Cairns safely due weather in that region, over.’

‘QF2736 this is Indonesian Lead. If you can proceed to Cloncurry, do so. If you cannot, proceed to a point forty miles south of Weipa, maintain 6000 feet. At that point fly a triangle with ten mile legs. I will inform you when we have ceased operations. We are not conducting operations against Weipa or its airport and you will be safe to land there after I clear you to do so. Acknowledge.’

‘Indonesian Lead this is QF2736. Proceed to a point forty miles south of Weipa, maintain 6000 feet. At that point fly a triangle with ten mile legs. You will inform me when you have ceased operations. Then land at Weipa Airport after your clearance. Alternative is to divert to Cloncurry. Keep transponder on. Acknowledged.’

Good, thought Petir Lead as he tuned out the rest of the transmissions. His machines launched their second salvo of attack missiles, slick and professional, just as we trained. The missiles were Kh-29 this time as the Kh-59 had already hammered the base from longer ranges. This time the hardened facilities and runway were targets. Now he had direct line of sight and his system showed the burning 737s, C-130J and other aircraft. The base only had light defences, RBS-70 and Marksman gun systems. There was no need to expose his aircraft to them at all.

He could simply stand off and smash the place. And he would do just that.

Right, fuel farm next, he thought.

RAAF Curtin

There was not the slightest warning. One moment the base was going about its normal (if on this day frantically busy) business. The next second huge shockwaves were flashing across the runways and taxiways as the flightline ready sheds, hangars and base maintenance areas disintegrated under eight hammer-blows as the submarine launched 3M-14E slammed home.

Vanguard River

The IPTN CN-235 pickup transport had come in nap-of-the-earth to try and avoid the Jindalee system, but mostly it was the unusual activity by the fast-movers which had done that. Off Darwin the Sukhois were playing cat-and mouse, feinting the city and then darting away before the Hornets responded – but the Hornets had far less range than the long-legged Sukhoi fighters. Essentially, the TNI-AU was rolling back the defences by using the much shorter legs of the Hornets against them. The tanker was up but it had to orbit well south of the city, topping off two Hornets at a time.

Tribowo saw the demolition charges light off in the military-related facilities. He’d eventually decided to spare the house, which arguably was a military facility: but while he was a middle aged man Lieutenant Perkin’s family was very young and he’d just not had the heart to burn the home of three little children and a baby. He smiled inside his head and I’ll sell that as a public relations move, they will happily accept that one. He had burned the tourist’s camp and vehicles using the reason that the franc-tireur had been one of them. He’d been going to do that anyway but no need for them to know that. As the hostages had come from there, they were hardly in a position to complain about their possessions being torched if their lives had been spared.

His men fell back into the aircraft after it turned and boarded at the run.

RAAF Scherger

Scherger burned. The base had not been able to fire an effective shot in its own defence. The missiles had just streaked in too fast for Marksman, let alone the RBS-70 systems. Losses on the ground were considerable, a pair of F-18 were destroyed and half a dozen other aircraft. The worst was the hit on the accommodation area. It had killed over a hundred men and women.

Joint Operations Command – Bungendore

The CJOPS nodded at the Army briefer.

‘Sir, the analysis of the Indonesian attack is ongoing, but the main points are clear.’

He brought up a slide. CJOPS hated Powerpoint, and so he insisted on a very minimalist approach to it. And absolutely no powerpoint for the blind.

‘The main message is strategic, sir. In a radical change of traditional strategic policy, ABRI has developed power projection capability. Two new aerial capabilities were demonstrated, multiple layer stand off attack using an intelligence-dense planning process, and submarine SLCM.’

He brought up a new slide.

‘And the last shall be first. Weapon analysis has showed that Curtin was attacked with eight of Soviet 3M-14E, NATO designation SSN-27 Sizzler. We had some indication that the TNI-AL was adding Soviet systems to Cakra and Nanggala, this was not detected and represents an intelligence failure.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ said DGMAROPS, ‘the senior analyst running the day shop at the Maritime Intelligence Centre has been saying for a year that the refit of the Indonesian Type 209s would include both an anti-ship missile and a land attack missile. It’s been in their weekly regional submarine summary for nine months, after their paper was released about that refit. The problem is not that we failed to detect it, it’s that we assessed it correctly and ignored the assessment because the Canberra-based agencies did not make it. In other words, the OPINTEL guys figured it out and the STRATINTEL types did not like them doing so, so they rubbished the idea and blocked it. Now, they are trying to save their own pride by blaming the OPINTEL types for their own failures.’

He turned to CJOPS.

‘Sir, the failure here is that the STRATINTEL types are still, after a decade, pouting and flouncing and clutching their damned pearls because the Navy has a near real time OPINTEL capability which is much better at OPINTEL than they ever were and infinitely more timely. That’s juvenile. What is utterly unacceptable is that they refused to give credence to and more deeply investigate the OPINTEL assessment. That just cost us lives and aircraft, plus a base badly damaged.’

‘Do you have a little list?’

‘Yes sir, I have a little list.’

‘We will …’

Another voice broke in. He could. The CDF was very, very far from being a happy man.

‘We’ll carve out twenty minutes after this. I want heads rolling about that, and I want to meet the analysts who made that assessment and personally reward them. Bottom line, they were right and if we’d done things differently perhaps a hundred or so ADF members would still be alive. If there was that species of office politics in this I will have those heads on pikes out the front of Russell Offices.’

‘Sir.’

CDF nodded, and the briefer changed the slide.

‘Scherger, sirs. The details of the damage …’


oOo

Sultan Hasanuddin Air Base, Makassar

They had warning, but it did not do the slightest good. Suddenly there was jamming so the SAM radars came up – and promptly vanished in fireballs as the ARM homed in. Then the jamming redoubled. The first four F-111 swept past the airfield at distance and destroyed the defences with AGM-65 missiles, then started on the flight line. A second wave of four actually closed and engaged the complex with GBU-10, smashing the fuel farm and demolishing the two big maintenance hangars. Each took a 2000lb GBU-10 which detonated on striking the hangar floor. The blast was strangely beautiful from a distance, the hangars were covered in metal sheeting, and from a distance each appeared to expand in a great cloud of sparkling silver and white confetti, before each turned into an ugly boil of flame and black smoke.

The final wave of four were laden with 1000lb iron bombs. One laid a line across the runways and taxiways, another through the Flanker flightline, the third hammered the maintenance buildings and the last smashed the administration and messings areas. All fourteen bombers then departed the area, fast and on the deck.

They had not quite avoided all the Flankers, though.

RAAF Scherger runway.jpg

RAAF Scherger when completed.jpg

oOo

Canberra

‘So in summary, Minister, the worst is the personnel losses, which are heavy, 112 at Curtin and 86 at Scherger plus 23 in the aircraft the enemy brought down. The aircraft losses are significant but we have spare stocks for most; except for the AP-3C. More on that in a minute. Losses in the air and on the ground are nine F/A-18A, one F-111C, two Hawk 127, one AP-3C, one S-2T, one Coastwatch Dash-8, one C-130J, two Dakotas, two Wirraway airvans, six UH-1H and two civil charters B-737 transports. 28 aircraft, of which 11 were shot down.’

The Minister nooded sombrely. These were not the only recent losses. The Indonesian ‘surge’ had been a tactial surprise and they’d paid the price of that.

‘OK,’ the Minister said, ‘what’s the aircraft replacement plan?’

CAF glanced at the paper in his pack. ‘Add another ten F/A-18A to the ones already earmarked at Davis-Monthan and cycle them through the rework program. We have attrition spares for the rest, or aircraft on order in the case of the C-130J. The AP-3C is the first we’ve lost and we do not have a spare for it. As is usual, the US has indicated that we can have our pick of the airframes at Davis-Monthan. We are currently in the middle of the AP-3C upgrade, so we have a live functioning program we can slot airframes in to. There, sir, I’d like to kill three birds with one stone. Identify and add four MPA airframes, one as a direct replacement and three as attrition spares. I also want to add another two as basic flying training airframes, we need to train more flight crews and I really need to keep those hours away from the AP-3C. The AP-3T has been very successful in doing that, and they are useful ancillary transports. I have also had the same briefing from the IO that was circulated to you, and we will add four EP-3C airframes. The US community is happy, well, delighted, to release those from storage. One of them will be an EP-3CT trainer as the aircraft has some unusual handling characteristics, and that’s all it will be used for.’

The Minister just nodded. ‘I am more concerned with the air defence issue.’

CAF shrugged. ‘Sir, we have set up a CAOC at each base and we have point defence courtesy of Army and our own Adgies, but it just does not work against this sort of stand-off attack, which is why they were forced to that tactics. Action, reaction, the usual thing in war.’

The Minister blinked. ‘I have to keep reminding myself that this is actually a war, if a low-level one.’

‘Minister,’ said CDF, they did this to make a number of political points and to force a response from us….’

‘They sure did,’ said the Minister with feeling, ‘that damned KOPASSUS officer was very sharp. He presented us with a fait accompli domestic political disaster over that idiot who shot his man.’

‘Yes, Minister, he did. And…’

‘Yes, I know, I know, we have no choice but to play straight bat and change the idiot with murder, which he did, and huck him into the slammer. Enough on that.’ He turned to CDF.

‘The Security Committee of Cabinet will be meeting tomorrow and the Patriot issue goes up then. I believe it will pass without issue, and that means setting up a proper SADOC up there too.’

‘Two years, Minister,’ said CDF.

‘That long?’

‘Yes, Minister, that long, we already have parts of it in place of course, but TNI-AU just showed us that it’s no longer adequate against this new capability they have developed. That’s also the message Jakarta passed to us through Singapore. The AF-4I Greyfalcon interceptors, Patriot, new radars and SADOC will fix it, but it’s going to take two years. Might be able to shave a couple of months.’

‘Damn.’

‘And that, Minister, is the message here and that is what leads to the assessment that this is a spike in activity to pass a message and not a broader ramping up of the conflict. Their subs very pointedly transited past a lot of our offshore gas installations enroute their launch points and left them strictly alone. ASEAN has been heavily involved in this as they are scared spitless of the sheer scale of the Soviet involvement in Indonesia. Yet they have lived with that before and this Indon attack has given them a major opportunity to really play a major role in keeping Konfrontasi II down to a dull roar.’

The Minister nodded, grudgingly. ‘I have to admit that appointing none other than Lee Kwan Yew as the ASEAN Special Plenipotentiary Envoy for Regional Stability was a stroke of genius. Nobody in our region is more respected than he is. And they can claim with at least some justification that preventing a permanent escalation from this strike is at least partly his doing. There’s not a politician between New Delhi, Taipei and Wellington who does not repect and admire that man.’

‘This also adds a major driver to MBX, Minister. OK, we pretty much flattened the TNI-AU side at Sultan Hasanuddin Airbase at Makassar, so Skuadron Udara 5 and 11 have been crippled for months and we destroyed at least six Flankers and a dozen other aircraft.’

He riffled papers. ‘But look at what happened on the return leg. One F-111 shot down and another badly damaged then written off on landing, both by Flankers. If nothing else does, that proves that these aircraft are both critical to us in capability terms, and obsolescent as a type.’

The Prime Minister interjected. ‘Which means that our work with the USAF on accelerating MBX development was an absolute Godsend. Can that be accelerated?’

‘No, PM, no,’ answered CDF, ‘more resources will not help speed things up, they are going as quickly as humanly possible and have been for two years. The TSRP is capable of strike yet is not really designed for it. It can hit difficult, high value targets deep inside an enemy’s territory and protected by a good ADGE but it’s not a bomber, it’s an armed recce bird. And we need a genuine medium bomber. Sometimes, as at Sultan Hasanuddin, part of the strike just has to carry a large warload of iron bombs to just smash the place up after the fancy weapons have done a number on the pinpoint targets.’

‘Have we ordered enough F-22A and TSRP? We currently have 20 and 6 on order. With the USSR looking to actually base things in Indonesia and what looks like early development of a facility of some sort at Ambon, is that enough given the lead times?’

‘I’d have to take that on notice, PM.’

‘The point is that messaging cuts both ways, CDF, and political messaging is an essential part of deterrence. Obviously both programs are black and deep black respectively, so get me a brief as soon as you can on up to double both buys, and also on starting to move the F-22A first buy into the grey. There is just not that much point in keeping it deep black now.’

‘Yes, Prime Minister.’
 

RAAF Scherger when completed.jpg

RAAF Scherger runway.jpg

RAAF Scherger runway.jpg