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Politics : Bill Clinton Scandal - SANITY CHECK -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:00:00 AM
From: DMaA  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 67261
 
They are talking about it on Free Republic this morning. The incident was mentioned in the PBS/Frontline program about Somalia last night. Tried to watch it but fell asleep.

209.67.114.212



To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:03:00 AM
From: Les H  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 67261
 
If you look under Yahoo for "Somalia", you will find lots of web sites covering the intervention in Somalia.

globalserve.net

users.interport.net

worldmedia.com



To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:07:00 AM
From: Les H  Respond to of 67261
 
Copyright 1993 Newsday, Inc.

Newsday

December 5, 1993, Sunday,

Somalia Mission Control; Clinton called the shots in failed policy targeting Aidid

SERIES: MISSION TO SOMALIA. A year ago this week, the first U.S. troops sent aby
President Bush arrived in Somalia. It was to be a humanitarian mission. But policy
began to change in August, when President Clinton sent in a Special Operations force
to capture the warloard Aidid. This report looks at that decision and its consequences.
FIRST OF 4 PARTS

By Patrick J. Sloyan.

Washington

It was Aug. 22, and President Bill Clinton was vacationing at Martha's Vineyard when word
arrived of another attack on U.S. soldiers in Somalia.

No one was killed, but a land mine wounded six Americans when it destroyed their vehicle in
the streets of Mogadishu. It had been detonated by a Somali spotter using a
remote-controlled device - the identical method used in two earlier attacks. One of those, on
Aug. 8, had killed four U.S. Army military policemen.

For Clinton, the Aug. 22 attack was the final straw. That night, on his orders, Delta Force
commandos from Ft. Bragg, N.C., a helicopter detachment from Ft. Campbell, Ky., and
Army Rangers from Ft. Benning, Ga., were en route to Somalia.

Once there, the clandestine Special Operations force would coordinate with a CIA team that
had been in place for more than a month. Their mission: Capture Gen. Mohamed Farrah
Aidid, the dominant political leader in one of the world's poorest countries.

Once Aidid was in custody, Delta Force would whisk him to a third-country ship off the coast
of Somalia, where the warlord would be tried for murder.

"We were going to set Aidid aside," said one senior Clinton adviser, using the White House
euphemism for what was more commonly known among officials as the "snatch" operation.

Seven weeks later the decision would result in a bloody firefight as Rangers and men of the
Delta Force made their seventh attempt to grab Aidid. Eighteen American soldiers died, and
77 were wounded. An estimated 300 Somalis were killed and another 700 wounded, a third
of the casualties women and children.

Clinton's handling of the disaster has raised doubt about the future U.S. role, not only in
Somalia, but also in Bosnia and other global hot spots.

In the aftermath of the Oct. 3 battle, Aidid emerged with a global reputation by withstanding
American military wrath and winning Clinton's support for a Somali-based political settlement.

Clinton seemed to underline the debacle by announcing a March 31 deadline for retreat from
the East African country. In hoisting a diplomatic white flag, the president portrayed himself as
a victim of events controlled by the United Nations on a Somali mission that
Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali called "peace enforcement."

"We cannot let a charge we got under a UN resolution to do some police work - which is
essentially what it is, to arrest suspects - turn into a military mission," Clinton said in the
aftermath of the Oct. 3 battle.

Even more specific were administration officials who sought to distance Clinton and his top
aides from the ill-fated hunt for Aidid. "The search-and-seizure missions are UN operations,"
said Pentagon spokeswoman Kathleen de Laski.

But extensive interviews with top administration officials, many of whom spoke on the
condition they not be identified, showed the United States was in control of events in Somalia.
Leading up to the Oct. 3 disaster were these changes in U.S. policy:

A major shift from backing an Aidid-sponsored disarmament conference in May to violent
confrontations with the formidable warlord. The hard-line policy was crafted by the U.S.
envoy in Somalia, Robert Gosende, and retired U.S. Navy Adm. Jonathan Howe,
handpicked by the Clinton administration to head the UN mission there.

Clinton's approval, following an ambush that killed 24 UN peacekeepers in June, of three
days of aerial bombardments of Aidid's compound with the understanding that the attacks
might kill the Somali leader. U.S. forces could be used only with specific U.S. military
approval even though the troops were ostensibly part of the UN mission. The attacks on
Aidid triggered an escalating round of violence.

Clinton's decision to withdraw 25,000 combat troops from Somalia just as the United States
began what proved to be its bloodiest confrontation since a U.S. Marine peacekeeping force
was massacred in Beirut, Lebanon, in 1983.

The political standoff with Aidid had erupted into violence on June 5, when 24 Pakistani
troops in the UN force were killed during an ambush in a Mogadishu area controlled by the
warlord. While there was no proof Aidid ordered the ambush - he denied it - both Howe and
Gosende blamed the warlord. Within 24 hours Clinton backed a UN Security Council
resolution calling for the arrest and trial of those responsible for the ambush. The next week
U.S. warplanes and hundreds of UN troops attacked Aidid's stronghold over a four-day
period.

"We didn't plan to kill him, but the president knew that if something fell on Aidid and killed
him, no tears would be shed,"said one senior official who participated in Clinton's June
decision. But another U.S. official said four attacks by American gunships during that period
were aimed at killing Aidid.

In a radio speech June 12, the day of the first attack, Clinton underlined the American policy.
"We're striking a blow against lawlessness and killing," Clinton said. Later, at a news
conference, he said: "We cannot have a situation where one of these warlords, while
everybody else is cooperating, decides that he can go out and slaughter 20 peacekeepers."

But Aidid remained defiant, and his supporters staged rallies tht led to escalating violence
between the Somalis and UN troops.

All of those moves contributed to the Oct. 3 disaster, but today White House officials look
back to Aug. 22, when administration opponents of the covert operation to seize Aidid
dropped their objections, as the crucial day.

* * *

The National Security Council, the usual forum used by presidents when deciding whether to
send U.S. troops into harm's way, never figured in the Clinton decision. On Aug. 22, a
Sunday, Clinton talked by phone from Martha's vineyard with Anthony Lake, his adviser on
the national security affairs.

For weeks, top administration officials had been debating the deployment of a Delta team to
seize Aidid. "They understood the plan," said one source. But when it came down to decision
time that day, "it was between Lake and the president with some phone calls afterwards," said
a senior White House Official.

Normally, Lake would have relayed Clinton's decision first to Defense Secretary Les Aspin.
But Aspin was boating on a lake in Wisconsin. Instead, Lake called the president's senior
military adviser, Army Gen. Colin Powell, chairman fo the Joint Chiefs of Staff. In turn, Powell
called Marine Gen. Joseph Hoar, head of Central Command, the U. S. military headquarters
responsible for Somalia.

"It looks like we are going to send them in,"Powell told Hoar, according to military aided who
heard the conversation. Instead of aresponding, Hoar remained silent, a reflection of his anger,
dismay and frustration over the order.

For two months Hoar's arguments had been used by Aspin, Powell and Lake to oppose the
"snatch" operation favored by the State Department.

According to military and congressional sources, Hoar had maintained that the chances of
getting Aidid were one in four - that the 62-year-old warrior would simply elude pursuers in
the narrow alleyways of Mogadishu, where he once served as chief of police; that in the
media, the world's last superpower would be seen conducting a manhunt instead of using
skilled diplomacy; and, finally, that capturing Aidid would change nothing.

"His (Hoar's) objections made it up the chain of command,"said one Clinton national security
adviser when asked if the president was aware of potential pitfalls. "But we didn't overrule the
military. There was a consensur."

Since a diplomatic stalemate with Aidid had eruped into violence in June, the U.S. envoy in
Somalia, Gosende, had been urging the removal of the warlord.

To Gosende and his UN counterpart Howe, the defiant Aidid was the roadblock to disarming
the population and rebuilding the country.

They had abandoned efforts by their American predecessor, Robert Oakley, to persuade
Aidid and other clan leaders to supervise disarmament and help rebuild Somalia.

Howe knew all the right buttons to push,"said a Pentagon official.

Gosende's view had been endorsed in late June by Secreatary of Sate Warren Christopher
and Peter Tarnoff, underscretary of state for political affairs.

While the issue was being debated at lower government levels, Clinton approved some
contingency planning in mid-June. An interagency task force began to study what would be
done if, in fact, Aidid was captured.

Officials of the Pentagon, State Department and CIA offered a veriety of ideas centered on
expelling Aidid to Ethiopia or another African country. Eventually the task force decided on
placing Aidid aboard a ship off the Somali coast, where he would be tried by panel of
American judges assembled for the purpose. The move would avoid a dispute over the legal
aspects of American commandos under the authority of the United Nations grabbing a Somali
citizen.

Meanwhile, Gosende's hard line toward Aidid had been reinforced by Ambassador David
Shinn, the special conordinator for Somalia.

Shinn identified Aidid as the obstruction to a political settlement in an Aug. 10 report by an
interagency task force he headed that had visited Somalia. "We have been serious about trying
to arrest Aidid for some period of time,"Shinn said at a news conference. "The fact of the
matter is that it's not easy" with convertional U.S. and UN forces.

Pulling off a kidnap under difficult circumstances was one of the clandestine arts honed by
Delta Force members of Special Operations. But Lake was reluctant. He had seen
clandestine operations go sour.

As a young foreign service officer, he served in the U.S. Embassy in Saigon in 1963 when
Present John F. Kennedy "set aside" another political problem - South Vietnam President
Ngo Dinh Diem - in a fatal CIA orchestrated coup.

Instead of a deeper commitment with U.S. force in Somalia, Lake sought to have the British
government deploy a Special Air Squadron commando team to snatch Aidid. "London said
no thanks," a Clinton adviser said.

Increasing conventional forces in Somalia was ruled out, according to one senior White house
official. Democrats in Congress were already pushing for a total U.S. withdrawal because of
American deathes from the increasing violence. As part of the American turnover of control in
Somalia to the UN in May, troops for 28 nations had replaced the bulk of U.S. combat
troops there.

But internal objections to the Special Operations option weakened and finally ceased in
August.

Until the Aug. 8 attack, when the four U.S. MPs were killed, U.S. troops had been immune
from Somali attacks. Now defense officials worried that a large-scale Somali assault might
imperil the remaining 3,100 U.S. troops in Mogadishu, only 1,120 of whom were combat
soldiers.

Perhaps the most important change of heart was Powell's. The Joint Chiefs chairman had
come to dominate national security deliberations; his experience and focus had impressed
Clinton, who had developed a personal relationship with the general during a series of private
meetings.

Don't cut and run just because things have become difficult, Powell told Clinton, according to
a U.S. official. "We had to do something, or we were going to be nibbled to death," said a
Powell aide. "The decision was driven by the circumstances of the attacks in Somalia."

In later conversations with aides, Clinton would defend his actions. He based his decisions on
the best information available at the time, aides quoted him as saying.

In hindsight, one senior administration official said that after the first U.S. attacks on Aidid in
June, there should have been a U.S. diplomatic initiative. "He sent us a message, and we sent
him a message," the official said. "Then we should have invited Aidid to lunch and talked things
over."



To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:09:00 AM
From: Les H  Respond to of 67261
 
Copyright 1993 Newsday, Inc.

Newsday

December 6, 1993, Monday

Hunting Down Aidid; Why Clinton changed mind

SERIES: Mission in Somalia. A year ago this week, the first U.S. troops President Bush
committed arrived in Somalia. It was to be a humanitarian mission. But policy began to
change in August, when President Bill Clinton sent in a Special Operations force to
capture the warlord Aidid. This report looks at that decision and its consequences.
Second of 4 Parts

By Patrick J. Sloyan.

Washington

The first attempt to grab Gen. Mohamed Farrah Aidid had gone badly.

On Aug. 30 the U.S. Delta Force and members of the 75th Ranger Regiment cascaded from
helicopter ropes into the worsening violence in Mogadishu. Their primary target turned out to
be an empty building. The secondary target included one man who looked like Somalia's
dominant political leader but turned out to be a member of the UN Relief Mission. He was
released four hours later with profuse apologies from a U.S. Army colonel.

At the Pentagon, Defense Secretary Les Aspin was upset. "We look like the gang that can't
shoot straight," Aspin said, according to an aide who attended the session with senior military
advisers.

In public there had been no mention of the Special Operations team dispatched by President
Bill Clinton on Aug. 22 with orders to capture the warlord and spirit him offshore to face
murder charges before a panel of African judges. In a meeting with reporters, Pentagon
spokeswoman Kathleen de Laski mentioned only the Rangers, a light infantry force that she
said represented no change of U.S. policy in Somalia.

"This is not an effort to go after one man," she said. "It's an effort to improve the overall
situation in Mogadishu." But in fact the Aug. 30 operation had all the earmarks of the kind of
"snatch" operation perfected by the Delta Force. That first try to grab Aidid was painless
compared to the seventh and final effort five weeks later.

On Oct. 3 the elaborate American effort to capture Somalia's leading politician ended in fierce
battle that left 18 Americans dead and 77 wounded. More than 300 Somalis were killed and
700 wounded. When the gunsmoke cleared, Clinton had suffered a major setback and left
Aidid with a surprising victory.

A Newsday examination of decisions leading up to the battle showed that in private Clinton
was under intense pressure to change his policy after ordering the clandestine mission Aug.
22. In the week before the Oct. 3 firefight, Newsday found, he had moved from a "hang
tough" stance to the verge of halting the hunt for Aidid.

At first - within days of the Special Operations team deployment - Clinton had signaled a new
and tougher line against Aidid. At an Aug. 23 White House meeting it was decided that Aspin
would soon give a major policy address; four days later he pledged that the United States
would stay in Somalia until warlords were disarmed, violence had ceased and a new Somali
police force was established.

But the shift was quickly attacked in Congress, most notably by Sen. Robert C. Byrd (D-W.
Va.), chairman of the appropriations committee. He vowed to cut off U.S. funds for the
expanded mission, claiming it should "either be specifically endorsed by Congress or we
should pack up and go home. My vote is for the latter," he said. Byrd noted he was inspired,
in part, by his failure to vigorously oppose the Vietnam War.

In Mogadishu the hard-line tactics against Aidid rattled U.S. allies. Italy moved its contingent
of troops out of the city to the safer suburbs; the French government criticized the breakdown
in efforts for a political settlement with Aidid.

Meanwhile, U.S. military concerns about locating Aidid in the dusty alleyways of Mogadishu
had become a reality. At least four risky missions ended in failure because of bad intelligence,
according to U.S. commanders in Somalia.

From the outset Marine Gen. Joseph Hoar of Central Command, the military headquarters
responsible for Somalia, had argued that without adequate intelligence, a Special Operations
force would be useless. And military intelligence capability had been reduced as most U.S.
combat troops were withdrawn as ordered by Clinton three months earlier.

"They argued that the Delta Team was worthless unless it had good intelligence," said one
participant in the debate, who, like many officials, spoke on condition of anonymity. "Then it
was decided to send in the CIA. But the CIA said there was no point in going into Mogadishu
unless the snatch team was there. It went on like that."

In late June a CIA team skilled in intercepting communications and other techniques was
dispatched to Somalia. They were able to listen in on satellite telephone and radio
communications with Aidid's associates. "But Aidid never called them," said one U.S. official.
"He went into deep cover."

The CIA high-tech approach was useless in pinpointing Aidid because the warlord
communicated by using dated walkie-talkies too low-powered to be detected by the CIA.
And he used an old, low-power transmitter aboard a truck to make mobile radio broadcasts
to his followers.

In addition, Aidid's forces kept an eye on helicopter operations at Mogadishu airport, where
the Delta Force was based. "It got so we were flying helicopters day and night just to cover
our operations," said one U.S. military commander.

But perhaps the biggest policy flaw was underlined during a long conversation Clinton had
with former President Jimmy Carter on Sept. 12, the night before the signing of the peace
agreement between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization. Clinton had invited
Carter to spend the night at the White House, and they talked until after 1 a.m., aides said.

Carter had met Aidid while visiting Somalia and had gotten letters from him protesting his
innocence. According to associates of the former president, Carter told Clinton that the key to
success in Somalia was a political settlement. He drove home the point that without Aidid, no
political settlement was possible.

"After Carter's visit the hard line toward Aidid began to weaken," said one Clinton adviser. At
the same time Democratic leaders were having difficulty restraining congressional opposition
to the fighting in Somalia. Eventually the House would vote overwhelmingly to either restrict
U.S. involvement to humanitarian aid or require an American withdrawal.

The lack of success in finding Aidid was also forcing a Clinton reassessment. While top aides
to the Somali leader had been captured by the Delta Force, Aidid remained elusive and
defiant.

"[They] never came close," Aidid said Nov. 29 of the elaborate American effort. Aidid told a
news conference he had hidden himself among his people.

Violent protests on Aidid's behalf had forced a halt to United Nations patrols in Mogadishu.
U.S. Army Cobra helicopter gunships fired 20-mm cannon into a crowd attacking American
and Pakistani soldiers attempting to clear a roadblock Sept. 9. More than 100 Somalis were
killed, including a number of women and children.

"In an ambush there are no sidelines or spectator seats," U.S. Army Maj. David Stockwell
said in defending the gunship attacks.

But the Sept. 9 event evoked memories of Vietnam, where U.S. troops often killed and
wounded women and children. As a young anti-Vietnam activist, Clinton wrote that he
"loathed" the U.S. Army tactics. As a presidential candidate, he promised to avoid such U.S.
involvement by endorsing a multinational approach to world trouble spots.

According to White House officials, that Clinton campaign pledge was the driving force
behind U.S. support for a UN takeover of Somalia - other countries would share the dirty
work. But now, Clinton was commander-in-chief of the most potent force in Somalia, a force
that had become embattled by the hunt for Aidid.

At the time of the Sept. 9 fighting, Hoar was in the city, meeting with his local commander,
Army Maj. Gen. Thomas Montgomery. With the withdrawal of most combat forces, the
remaining 1,120 combat soldiers were without armored personnel carriers. To deal with the
increasing threat, Montgomery requested four M-1 Abrams tanks, 14 Bradley Fighting
Vehicles and some heavy artillery.

"Hoar approved the request and sent it up the chain of command," said a U.S. military official.
"Hoar made phone calls to the Pentagon before he sent the formal request."

On Sept. 23 the request, titled "Protection of Forces in Somalia," was rejected by Aspin. "It's
not going to happen," he said. According to his aides, the defense secretary feared the
additional equipment would signal to a reluctant Congress and American voters a deeper U.S.
commitment.

As Aidid's supporters took control of the city, Robert Gosende, the U.S. envoy there, called
for more military muscle. Gosende proposed the dispatch of thousands of new combat troops,
but his Sept. 6 cable triggered a sharp rejoinder by Hoar.

"Hoar said we had lost control in Mogadishu," said a senior Pentagon official. "He argued that
if more troops were necessary, it was time to reassess our entire policy."

By the end of September Congress and the worsening situation in Mogadishu caused Aspin,
Secretary of State Warren Christopher and Anthony Lake, national security adviser, to
recommend yet another policy shift. "It was a consensus by his advisers that caused the
president to change direction," said a senior adviser.

The new approach: The United States would launch an initiative aimed at a political settlement
in Somalia that could include Aidid, but at the same time, the hunt for Aidid would continue.

Disputes continue among Clinton advisers over this so-called "two-track" policy, which was
revealed in press briefings during the president's Sept. 27 visit to the UN.

And there was no change in orders for the Delta Force team in Mogadishu, according to
Pentagon officials.

Six days after the two-track policy announcement a spy for the CIA reported that Aidid's top
aides were meeting near the Olympic Hotel.

When asked later about the Oct. 3 battle, Clinton implied that UN officials might have
ordered the assault. "Not every tactical decision had to be cleared through General Hoar,"
Clinton told an Oct. 14 news conference. But U.S. military officials offered this version:

It was about 1 p.m. Oct. 3 when Maj. Gen. William Garrison, the Delta Force commander,
got the intelligence.

By satellite phone, Garrison called Hoar in Tampa, Fla. "On these missions Hoar had a list of
requirements that had to be met," a U.S. military official said. "He asked Garrison the
questions, and the replies met Hoar's requirements. Hoar gave the okay."

For the first time the Special Operations team would be moving into Aidid's neighborhood.
"Everyone there had a gun, and everyone was angry," said one planner of the Oct. 3 mission.
But six previous sorties without serious injury had instilled confidence in the troops.

With approval from Hoar, Garrison turned to Lt. Col. Danny McKnight, leader of the 75th
Rangers' Third Battalion. Their last mission in Mogadishu began with a single word.

"Execute," Garrison told McKnight.



To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:09:00 AM
From: Daniel Schuh  Read Replies (3) | Respond to of 67261
 
Right. And how might this incident compare with Reagan's little Lebanon exercise? Of course, Ron took full responsibility for that one. So there was no cause to wonder why all those "peacekeeping" Marines were in barracks on the ground with lax security, while the Missouri was off shore lobbing one-ton shells on the side we didn't like in the dispute. In a country where car bombings were not exactly an unexpected occurrence.

Which isn't saying Reagan was at fault there. Reagan's "full responsibility" in this case is much the same as Janet Reno's "full responsibility" for Waco. They both backed up the chain of command. I doubt if either was much aware of the details. Admirable in and of itself, but if it prevents a full examination of what went wrong, a bit problematic.

Cheers, Dan.



To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:10:00 AM
From: Les H  Respond to of 67261
 
Copyright 1993 Newsday, Inc.

Newsday

December 7, 1993, Tuesday

Full of Tears and Grief; For elite commandos, operation ended in disaster

SERIES: MISSION IN SOMALIA. A year ago this wee, the first U.S. troops sent by
President bush arrived in Soalia. It was to be a humanitarian mission. but htere was a
mjor policy change in August, when Presient Clinton sent in a Special Operations force
to capture the warlord Aidid. This report looks at the decision and its consquences.
THIRD OF 4 PARTS

By Patrick J. Sloyan. WASHINGTON BUREAU. Staff writer Dele Olojede contributed to
this story.

DATELINE: Ft. Benning, Ga.

When it came time to remember the 75th Ranger Regiment's men killed in Somalia, Chaplain
David Moran sought to compare their sacrifice to the fate of early Christians.

"For your sake, we face death all day long," said Moran's recitation of a letter from the
apostle Paul to the Romans. "We are considered as sheep to be slaughtered."

The shaved skulls of the Regiment's Third Battalion bowed in prayer for six members of
Bravo Company during the Nov. 8 ceremony at Ft. Benning. They were among 18 American
soldiers who died Oct. 3 in Mogadishu. Another 77 U.S. Army troops were wounded. An
estimated 300 Somalis were killed and 700 wounded during the 12-hour firefight.

Moving among the bereaved families was Gen. Wayne Downing, commander of Special
Operations. A covert Delta Force element of Downing's 47,000-soldier command at Ft.
Bragg, N.C., had slipped into Somalia unannounced. It was made up of Army Special
Forces, the men who wear the Green Beret. From Ft. Campbell, Ky., came the Night
Stalkers of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, reputedly the best helicopter
pilots in the world.

But their secrecy was shattered when eight Delta Force members were killed Oct. 3. Maj.
Gen. William Garrison, who directed Delta's operations in Mogadishu, also expressed
condolences to the families of Rangers who had provided the muscle for the mission.

It was Garrison, in a handwritten letter to U.S. Rep. John Murtha (D-Pa.), who claimed the
Oct. 3 mission was a "complete success." The Special Operations team had captured 22
supporters of Gen. Mohamed Farrah Aidid captured that day - just as planned.

But in geopolitical terms the operation was a disaster. What the Nov. 8 ceremony showed,
more than anything, was the most painful results of President Bill Clinton's shifting policy
decisions on Somalia.

All but two of the Aidid supporters rounded up on Oct. 3 were released later after Clinton
abandoned the hunt for the warlord as a mistaken policy decision. No one from the
administration attended the memorial for the men who died following Clinton's secret Aug. 22
order to capture Aidid and bring him to trial. Clinton considered attending the Fort Benning
ceremony, but scheduling conflicts kept him away, a White House official said.

The elite commando force is often disparaged by Army regulars who call them "snake-eaters."
The nickname stems from six grueling weeks of Ranger School, including desert and mountain
training as well as jungle survival, where snake meat is considered a delicacy.

Their legendary physical toughness and superb military skills have created a force that
routinely takes risks that seem to regular soldiers to border on madness. But during the
memorial service, the snake-eaters were full of tears and grief.

On the stage of the Gen. George C. Marshall Auditorium, six pairs of desert boots were
aligned left to right; an upturned M-16 rifle was bayonetted next to each pair. Each rifle butt
held a black beret with the Ranger regimental crest.

Individual soldiers took turns reciting the Ranger Creed. The fifth stanza revealed why most of
those who died Oct. 3 did not escape unscathed, as they had during six previous missions:

"I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy," the soldier recited.

The words made Ranger Sgt. Robert Gallagher wince.

On Oct. 3 the whitewashed buildings of Aidid's stronghold were obscured by beige dust from
hovering helicopter gunships. The purr and whump of gunfire and grenades echoed
everywhere.

Gallagher explained how 142 Rangers had been on the verge of a 12-minute drive to safety
with 25 prisoners when a Delta Team helicopter crashed. It was about 4:15 p.m.

Less than an hour earlier the helicopter had been one of six Blackhawks that dropped 90
Rangers and Delta Force soldiers into the middle of Aidid's neighborhood near the Olympic
Hotel. The group of Aidid supporters had been captured, and the escape convoy had pulled
into place with another 52 Rangers aboard to provide covering fire.

But now rescuing the crew of the downed helicopter became paramount. "We weren't going
to leave those guys," Gallagher said. From a defensive position near the hotel, Lt. Tom Di
Tomasso saw the Blackhawk crashing four blocks away. With 13 men from his platoon, Di
Tomasso immediately began moving to the crash site.

While Di Tomasso was on foot, most of the Rangers were aboard armored jeeps - Humvees
with bulletproof windshields, doors and tops - and unarmored trucks. The halting, twisting
drive toward the downed helicopter through a maze of narrow Mogadishu streets became a
bloodbath.

Five of the six Rangers died en route.

"It was like riding around in a shooting gallery," said Gallagher, who was wounded while
directing his jeep. From building windows, rooftops, behind walls, Somalis showered them
with automatic gunfire and grenades. With 50-cal. machine guns and grenade launchers
mounted on their jeeps, the Rangers fired back.

Bands of Somalis filled the streets. A point-blank barrage of 40-mm grenades was fired into
one group by a Ranger jeep commander. Somali men, women and children were left in a
bloody sprawl.

But the withering fire from the Somalis was proving too much. Even three of the Somali
captives aboard one Ranger truck were killed. The Ranger commander, Lt. Col. Danny
McKnight, ordered the rescue convoy to retreat to its base at the airport. More casualties
were suffered en route. But Di Tomasso's foot patrol pressed on

Two snipers aboard the Blackhawk were knocked senseless by the crash. When they came
to, one of them, Delta Team Sgt. Daniel Busch, 25, of Portage, Wis., began firing at attacking
Somalis. Di Tomasso, whose platoon had reached the crash site, reported that Busch killed at
least 10 before being mortally wounded.

As Di Tomasso's ground force arrived, one of the gunships, an MH-6 Little Bird helicopter,
squeezed into the crash site.

Pilot Karl Maier held the controls with one hand while firing a submachine gun with the other.
His co-pilot, Keith Jones, scrambled to the downed Blackhawk while firing a pistol. The
wounded Busch and another Blackhawk survivor were loaded on the Little Bird, and Maier
lifted off, guns blazing.

A search and rescue helicopter arrived next, dropping off 15 more Rangers and rescue
equipment. That chopper also was hit by Somali fire but managed to limp back to base.

Inside the downed Blackhawk, the pilot and co-pilot were dead. They were Chief Warrant
Officer Donovan Briley, 33, from North Little Rock, Ark., and Chief Warrant Officer Clifton
Wolcott, 36, from Cuba, N.Y.

They had crashed nose-first into a low wall after Somali rocket-propelled grenades hit the
chopper. Now 29 Rangers set up a defensive perimeter and began trying to free Briley and
Wolcott.

The force of the crash had wrapped the fuselage around the two men. Circular blades of two
rescue power saws failed to cut through the twisted metal.

Six hours later a relief convoy finally fought its way through to the crash site. A confused effort
to get Malaysian armored vehicles to carry the relief force had caused the delay. The U.S.
commander, Army Maj. Gen. Thomas Montgomery, had requested armored vehicles nearly a
month earlier, but his

request had been rejected by Defense Secretary Les Aspin.

On Oct. 3, as reports of the mounting casualties came in, Montgomery bit his lips and cursed
under his breath, said aides who overheard him. "He clearly felt that this could have been
prevented if he had his own armor," a top aide said.

Running the Somali gauntlet was costly to the relief column. Three 10th Mountain Division
soldiers were killed. More than 30 were wounded.

After the relief convoy arrived, the Rangers attached truck cables to the wrecked Blackhawk.

"The trucks pulled the helicopter apart, and we got their bodies," Gallagher said.

A second Blackhawk helicopter had crashed beyond the reach of the Ranger force and relief
convoys. The pilot, Chief Warrant Officer Michael Durant, later recounted how two Special
Forces sergeants jumped from a hovering helicopter to save him.

They were Master Sgt. Gary Gordon, 33, of Lincoln, Maine, and SFC Randall Shugart, 35,
of Newville, Pa. They were killed along with three of Durant's crew in fighting around the
chopper.

"Without a doubt, I owe my life to these two men and their bravery," said Durant, who was
captured and later released by the Somalis. Gordon and Shugart have been nominated for the
Congressional Medal of Honor, the nation's highest award for valor. There will be a shower of
Silver Stars, the third-highest award, for the Rangers.

The memorial ceremony in Marshall Auditorium was coming to an end. Before three volleys of
rifle fire and Taps, Bravo Company First Sgt. Glenn Harris conducted the Last Roll Call.

"Sergeant Joyce?"

There was no answer.

"Sergeant James Joyce?"

Silence.

"Sergeant James Casey Joyce?"

Finally a friend answered. "Not present, First Sergeant."

The litany continued through five more names. Glenn concluded: "These men were all killed in
combat operations in Somalia."

The ceremony intensified the grief and anger of Larry Joyce over the loss of his son. Joyce, a
retired Army officer who spent two tours in Vietnam, voted for Clinton and said he had
rationalized away the president's efforts to avoid the draft and his role as Vietnam War
protester.

"My son opposed my support for Bill Clinton," Joyce said in a letter to Congress. "His death
in Somalia - brought about by weak and indecisive amateurs in the Clinton administration -
confirms my son's wisdom and my naivete."

Along with some of the families of 26 other Americans killed there since last December, Joyce
wants Congress to find out what went wrong and why Aspin refused to provide armor for the
relief force.

"Those reinforcements might not have helped my son because he apparently was one of the
first killed," Joyce said in the letter. "But they certainly would have helped many of the other
soldiers who were killed and wounded. To put them into combat with no way to reinforce
them is criminal."

NEXT: The Aftermath



To: Ish who wrote (6276)9/30/1998 10:11:00 AM
From: Les H  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 67261
 
Copyright 1993 Newsday, Inc.

Newsday

December 8, 1993, Wednesday

A Tough Encounter With Policy Survivors

SERIES: MISSSION IN SOMALIA. LAST OF 4 PARTS. year ago this week, the first
U.S. troops sent by President Bush arrived in Somalia.It was to be a humanitarian
mission.But there was a major policy change in August, when President Clinton sent in
a Special Operations force to capture the warlord Aidid. This report looks at that
decision and its consequences.

By Patrick J. Sloyan. WASHINGTON BUREAU

DATELINE: Washington

For President Bill Clinton, the results of his policy decisions in Somalia came into sharp focus
during a Sunday-morning visit to soldiers wounded in Mogadishu.

Reporters were barred from Walter Reed Army Medical Center during the Oct. 24 session
when an uneasy Clinton met with some of the 77 Americans wounded during an Oct. 3 battle
that marked the end of a covert operation to seize Gen. Mohamed Farrah Aidid.

Hospital officials who accompanied Clinton said the young commander-in-chief was shocked
by the encounter.

One soldier had lost his left hand, right leg, sight and hearing. Another had had his hand
grafted to his stomach so a shattered arm could heal. Bullets, shrapnel and fire had maimed a
young private. A sergeant had his leg in a steel birdcage after the first of a series of bone
grafts.

"Clinton was visibly moved," said one hospital official. "He didn't know what to say. The men
could see that."

Some were pleasant and respectful. "Clinton is a nice guy," said PFC Alberto Rodriguez, 20,
of Naranjito, P.R. He had been riddled with bullets and shrapnel.

Others were cool, even hostile. Sgt. John Burns, 26, of Philadelphia, whose leg was shattered,
balked at an offer to have his picture taken with the president. "I don't want to end up in some
political propaganda picture - you know, 'President Visits Wounded Soldier,' " Burns said
while Clinton was in his room.

The White House refused to make public photographs or television footage of that meeting or
a later Oval Office meeting with the wounded. Clinton and top administration officials
responsible for Somalia have yet to be publicly shown with the survivors of the fiercest firefight
in terms of American casualties since Vietnam.

Some administration officials say withholding the pictures is part of a damage-limitation
strategy devised by David Gergen, Clinton's adviser.

"They [White House officials] hope people will forget about Somalia," said a Pentagon official
who objected to a plan. He favored giving the wounded the sort of White House South Lawn
ceremony held in June when Clinton praised and personally decorated Marines who were first
sent to Somalia by President George Bush last Dec. 6.

While Gergen refused to comment, another White House official said Clinton wanted to avoid
the appearance of exploiting the Somalia veterans.

But the president's visit to the hospital was prompted by a call from an angry Walter Reed
physician. According to hospital sources, the doctor called the White House. "He said these
men have been here for three weeks, and no one had paid any attention to them," said a
source informed of the exchange. "The White House called back and said, 'The president will
be there tomorrow morning.' "

Some within the military feel that what they consider Clinton's cold-shoulder treatment
demeans the heroics and sacrifices made in behalf of the president's ill-fated policies.

Burns, who balked at the White House photographer, resents the perception that his mission
in Mogadishu was a failure. "That's what kills me," he said in an interview later. "We did our
job. My friends did not die in vain."

On Veterans Day, Nov. 12, Burns and others attended an Oval Office breakfast with Clinton.
The president was awed by their tales of the firefight. "Their bravery was incredible," Clinton told one aide.

Later that day, Clinton praised the Rangers during his speech at the Tomb of the Unknown
Soldier. "I want you to let them know that they did their mission well," he said. But Burns and
the other Rangers were sitting more than 100 yards away.

Within the administration, there was even a debate over whether Clinton should write the
families of the 18 men killed in Somalia on Oct. 3. "Some argued the letters should be written
by [Defense Secretary Les] Aspin - not the president," said one insider. In the end, Clinton
wrote personal notes to everyone.

Clinton and his top aides considered but decided against attending two public memorial
services for the men killed Oct. 3. But Defense Secretary Les Aspin attended a third
ceremony where the press was barred. It was at Ft. Bragg, N.C., home of the top-secret
Delta Team that was sent to Somalia by Clinton on Aug. 22.

While Clinton aides hope the Somalia disaster will soon fade from the American
consciousness, there are forces at work that are likely to keep the controversy alive. They
include:

Award Ceremonies. The soldiers at Walter Reed are among those selected for decorations in
the aftermath of the Oct. 3 battle. There will be a number of Silver Stars, the third-highest
award for valor, and at least two soldiers killed in the fighting have been nominated for the
Congressional Medal of Honor, the nation's highest award.

Dramatic Video. There is a videotape of the 11-hour battle showing everything from besieged
Ranger convoys to attacking Somali mobs to crashing helicopters. Taken from helicopters
hovering over the battle, the footage is likely to be released to TV networks once classified
material is removed, according to U.S. military officials.

Developments in Somalia. Clinton is scrambling to achieve a political settlement there before
his March 31 withdrawal deadline for remaining U.S. combat troops.

"It was unfortunate," Sen. Nancy Kassebaum (R-Kan.) said of Clinton's deadline. "We have a
limited amount of time to use what weakened leverage we had. I can think of no further
compounding of the tragedy that has occurred there for our forces than to have them
withdraw and see what started out to be a very successful, noble mission end in chaos."

Without a settlement, the withdrawal would underline an American image that haunts Clinton.
In the aftermath of the Oct. 3 attack the president warned that if U.S. troops were "to leave
now, we would send a message to terrorists and other potential adversaries around the world
that they can change our policies by killing our people. It would be open season on
Americans."

Congressional Hearings. Chairman Sam Nunn (D-Ga.) of the Senate Armed Services
Committee is planning a full-scale investigation of the switches in U.S. policy in Somalia and
events surrounding the Oct. 3 battle. "There are so many questions unanswered," said Nunn,
who plans to summon Clinton's senior advisers to public hearings next month.

A preliminary look at those developments by Nunn's House counterpart, Rep. Ron Dellums
(D-Calif.), indicated miscalculations by senior Clinton advisers in Washington as well as
military and diplomatic officials in Somalia.

"A terrible mistake was made that resulted in the loss of life on all sides," said Dellums,
concluding that military force instead of diplomacy was used to settle a political problem.
Rather than maintain a neutral peacekeeping role for a famine-relief effort implemented by
Bush, Clinton became enmeshed in urban combat.

"Cardinal rules were violated," Dellums said. "We chose sides, and we decided who the
enemies were. It's baggage from the Cold War."

Politics. What happened in Mogadishu in October has already inflicted political wounds.
There have been bipartisan calls in Congress for the resignations of Defense Secretary Les
Aspin and Secretary of State Warren Christopher and a housecleaning at the White House
National Security Council headed by Anthony Lake.

So far only Robert Gosende, the U.S. envoy who pushed for a hard-line confrontation with
Aidid, has lost his position. He was recalled from Somalia by Christopher, who had endorsed
Gosende's call for a clandestine effort to remove Aidid. Christopher now says he failed to pay
close enough attention to Somalia.

As had Lake, Christopher had seen covert efforts backfire on presidents before. He was No.
2 at the State Department when President Jimmy Carter ordered a Delta Force unit to rescue
U.S. hostages in Iran in 1980. The Desert One disaster contributed to Carter's election defeat
later that year.

Senate Minority Leader Bob Dole of Kansas and former Defense Secretary Dick Cheney -
two likely contenders for the GOP presidential nomination - say Somalia is certain to be an
issue in 1996, if Clinton seeks a second term.

So far, Aspin has been the focus of criticism for the disaster in Somalia. The defense secretary
admitted it was a mistake for him to turn down requests for armored vehicles to protect U.S.
troops there. Some members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff would like to see Aspin fired.

For Aspin there has been trouble at every turn - including at Walter Reed. The day after
Clinton's visit to the hospital, the defense chief showed up there.

One soldier Aspin visited was Sgt. Christopher Reid, 24, of Brooklyn. On Sept. 25, while
retrieving the bodies of three Americans killed when their helicopter was shot down in
Mogadishu, Reid was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade. The blast blew off his left hand and
right leg and riddled his groin with shrapnel. The explosion broke his eardrums and blinded
him.

His hearing has returned, and after a series of operations, most of his vision was restored. But
Reid had to shield his eyes from the overhead light when he talked to Aspin.

"We could have used that armor, sir," Reid said.