X Rubicon: Baby

"Leaving the baby was not an option. Government troops, who would be directed to the scene by the CIA, would arrive first to claim a success, and they would kill the 'communist' baby."

Rubicon & Griobhtha

from X Rubicon: Crossing Life, Sex, Love, & Killing in CIA Proxy Wars: An indictment of US Citizens: ignorantia non excusat

“We have attained a high standard of living. We must seek to attain a high standard of thinking… There is nothing in the world that may be regarded as holy as eliminating anguish, as alleviating pain.”

The Insecurity Of Freedom – Abraham Joshua Heschel

Baby

#5 – July 1980

“I love babies. They’re so joyful and they spread that to those around them. But for me, babies also are a stark reminder of a particular baby no longer with a mother to love and care for it and watch it grow, which is the essence of motherhood.” — Rubicon in X Rubicon: Guilt, Repentance, & Change

How could anyone hate you?!?

– Mrs Seinfeld

With every child born, a new expectation enters the world.

Differences – A Passion For Truth

– Abraham Joshua Heschel

You wouldn’t think Guatemala would ever feel cold, but the day was rainy and it felt cold to me, chilling me to my bones. There was no way to stay dry. The convoys I had been assigned were not pleasant to understate it. At this point I understood I was halting weapons shipments to communist rebels and killing the communist rebels traveling with the weapons. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? But the Guatemalan Army, though forceful and vicious when in numbers against no threat whatsoever, couldn’t handle determined rebels with weapons. So even though they had been trained by commanders who had received the best training in being egregiously vicious by the US military and the School Of The Americas, they couldn’t take on active rebel units that would fight back, because they would lose – their lives and their government. So the fascist right-wing Guatemalan government did what all such kind do… they kissed the US’ ass and let the CIA do all the work for them (unless of course it’s an unarmed village of 1000 where they killed everyone – man, woman, and child; or, the family accused of being communist and they go in the middle of the night to strangle every man, woman, and child – and the dog, the cat, and expose the goldfish to the air).

If the CIA feels ANY thing to be a threat to the US, so BROADLY determined, then they have authority to engage US military force strikes. The CIA likes to make its partners feel good, so the US strikes, and the dictators or oligarchs in charge reap the rewards for such devastating decision and action.

So this is what I was doing there on this cold and rainy night, waiting in ambush for a weapons convoy which would have several hundred rebel personnel moving to a new location. I had come in from ~5km south. I planted my road charges and charged a few trees front and back. There was no clearing, with quite a bit of overhang along the route, so I used markers for the front end, the middle, and back, by the road. The gunships would pick up these signals, but I would have to laser paint as many of the large trucks as possible to make sure cargo areas would be hit. Around 0130 the gunships arrived and loitered. They saw headlights and heat signatures coming down the road and dropped to attack altitude and position. I told them to fire when I blew the front and back road and trees.

The lead vehicle was a 4wd truck with a 40cal machine gun mounted in the bed. I blew the road and trees. The lead vehicle flew into the air in flames and the tree crashed down across the road. The gunships fired all weapons unceasingly. I went along the line targeting certain trucks to have them blown apart by 105mm shells and targeting rebels with my rifle and firing on them. The Gatling guns rained 20mm shells up and down the line almost non-stop. 40mm shells exploded randomly here, there, and everywhere.

I believe the gunships emptied there supply of 20mm shells, thousands of rounds, each one with the rough explosive force of a grenade, many of them red phosphorus tracers. Some 105 shells contained white phosphorus which burns with intensity until its chemical reaction is complete. It sticks to skin and clothing and causes a chemical burn beyond the measurement of ordinary pain.

At the end of these, the gunships always say they’ve gotta go, watch out for those that are living, and say good luck with “Clean Up”, the CIA’s euphemistic catch phrase for making sure EVERYONE is dead. This required walking (crawling, etc...) the convoy line looking for people to kill. It’s depressing no matter how you attempt to justify it. I was still relatively new at this task, and I already despised it. But before you understand, you believe that you’re doing something toward the right end. You know, They are in important positions, and they just wouldn’t lie to you… would they?

I reached the end of the convoy, all weapons destroyed, everyone dead… But I heard a baby cry, yet convinced myself that was crazy. Then I heard it louder and followed it. A baby lay in a sling carrier by the side of the road, under some large foliage. It was a beautiful dark and coppery molasses color with big dark eyes. It had a shrapnel wound in its upper left arm. I cleaned my hands with alcohol, and I felt for any piece of metal and bone damage, and the baby wailed. But there was no damage. I looked around to see who the mother might have been, but there were several women rebels in this convoy and nothing seemed obvious. I re-sanitized the wound and bandaged the arm, and the baby continued to cry. I knew I had to get out of there, and the baby had to come with me.

Leaving the baby was not an option. Government troops, who would be directed to the scene by the CIA, would arrive first to claim a success, and they would kill the “communist” baby. I couldn’t take it back with me, as I thought the CIA would kill it or hand it over to Guatemalan governmental authorities who would have it killed; and my Lt Weasel would have conniptions if I brought it back to base.

On my route back to extraction was a side path to a village ~3km off my track. I decided that was the baby’s best chance. I put the sling around my shoulder with the baby below my face, placed my rain poncho over it, and we skedaddled. It cried for awhile, and while I did have some penicillin and pain killer, I had no idea what or how much I could give it of anything, so I just let it jiggle and finally when I peeked in, it looked at me and smiled, and I thought I was going to cry.

We reached the side path to the village, but a new problem presented itself. My radio, always on, even when squelched, gave location signals on me. If I turned on this path, they would know it. I decided I had to turn the radio off for the time it took to go 3km, find a place for the baby, and 3km back. I knew if my radio were out too long they might send in a search and rescue team, and then the shit would hit the fan. I turned off the radio and began running on an unfamiliar slippery mud path holding a baby against my chest. A few times I almost tripped or wiped out, which made me panic for the baby. But eventually we arrived at the village. There were no lights, but even through the rain the moon provided some light, and I saw a small church. The front door was deep into the wall, and it had a roof over the entrance, so the baby wouldn’t be rained on. I put the bulk of my rain poncho underneath it, wrapped the rest of the poncho over it leaving its face exposed, and told it how brave it was and stroked its cheek. The door had a rope pull for a bell, and I pulled it fast over and over and ran for the path. I could see the church door open, they saw the baby and took it inside.

I ran so hard and so fast to the trail head and switched on my radio but kept it squelched. I really didn’t feel like making up my lie just then. Taking a normal pace back to the extraction point I called for the extraction and was picked up in a Huey gunship and taken back to the airfield and back to Hurlburt. As expected, Lt Weasel was furious about my radio signal. There was no fucking way I would ever tell him what happened, so I told him I dropped it in the mud and it must’ve gotten too wet (which I knew was a bullshit reason). He yelled, he ranted, he raved, and I let him.

Afterward, Bill approached me and asked, “What the hell was that bullshit?” I told Bill. I told Bill everything because I trusted him to advise me without turning on me. I told him there was no fucking way I could leave that baby there to die. He told me he understood, but that getting involved may carry a heavy price for me at some point. He also was glad I didn’t tell the Lt, as he was sure it would have meant the end for me. (If only)

~

“Ironically, because of your orders, which I defied, you were not there to save the baby. You were also not there to save the girl from getting raped; on the contrary, you were with the troopers providing them weapons and equipment to perform rape and murder (you seem to enjoy it). The bullets that blew out the troopers brains were also meant for you.” — X Rubicon: Forgiveness (& Responsibility)

Keep On Rockin’ in the Free World — Neil Young

There's colors on the street
Red, white and blue
People shuffling their feet
People sleeping in their shoes
But there's a warning sign
On the road ahead
There's a lot of people saying
We'd be better off dead
Don't feel like Satan
But I am to them
So I try to forget it
Any way I can

Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world

I see a woman in the night
With a baby in her hand
Under an old street light
Near a garbage can
Now she puts the kid away
And she's gone to get a hit
She hates her life
And what she's done to it
There's one more kid
That will never go to school
Never get to fall in love
Never get to be cool

Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world

We got a thousand points of light
For the homeless man
We got a kinder, gentler
Machine-gun hand
We got department stores
And toilet paper
Got Styrofoam boxes
For the ozone layer
Got a man of the people
Says keep hope alive
Got fuel to burn
Got roads to drive

Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world
Keep on rocking in the free world

~

Rubicon spent just under three years as a military Scout. During that time he was awarded the “AF Cross, 2 Silver Stars, 4 Bronze Stars, Defense Superior Service Medal, AF Good Conduct Medal, and the CIA Distinguished Service Medal” (ODNI). When he refused to kill further, he was stripped of these awards and was abandoned with his PTSD by the military and thrown away.

Sean Griobhtha (gree-O-tah) is a combat veteran. His latest book is X Rubicon: Crossing Life, Sex, Love, & Killing in CIA Proxy Wars: An indictment of US Citizens: ignorantia non excusat, which details the life of Rubicon (“2.5 years Deception & Death; 40+ years locking away Emotions & Truth”). It’s important that you read the Foreward, Or, The Vanguard; written by a highly intelligent woman with a heart of empathetic gold; she’ll bring you in gently, which neither Rubicon nor I would ever do.

Mrs Rubicon has been tutoring dyslexics and non-dyslexics in reading and writing for over three decades. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Interdisciplinary Humanities, and a Master’s degree in Pastoral Care and Psychology. She completed Pastoral Care training at the University of Chicago Hospital; and she has worked with various court systems in turning children around. She has volunteered in school sponsored reading programs where we’ve again witnessed her skill in improving even the most recalcitrant students. She holds teaching certification in Orton-Gillingham tutoring from the Michigan Dyslexia Institute.

If you enjoyed this writing, you can tell Crossing Rubicons that their writing is valuable by purchasing X Rubicon from Amazon, Ingram, Barnes & Noble, Bookshop.org, your local independent book seller, or your favorite digital store. View about the author, the book, and abridged translations here. If you would like to understand the effort and trouble that went into publishing this book, read X Rubicon: Author Statement.