I meant to finish an article dealing with the split personality of John Steinbeck, but all my Steinbeck books disappeared; however, I will find them and finish the piece. In lieu of that, I’ve put here an excerpt of a chapter from X Rubicon; a writing dealing with a March of the past. Yes, it’s shameless promotion, but I don’t feel bad. I don’t charge for subscriptions here; I’ve gotten pledges but turned them down. I appreciate the thoughts but I don’t plan on setting up any payment options. If you want to support me in any way, buy the book. To keep cost down, the paperback is B&W interior; the hardcover has color interior with blacker text.
This was a real life for Rubicon. Neither he nor I have an anti-drug screed to spew; something which you’ll understand better reading the book. Now, on to shameless promotion.
"Within 2-1/2 years I became guilty of planning and assisting in the slaughter of thousands, and was directly responsible for the killing of >300, from a distance, close up, and personal. I had become everything I despised...”
Rubicon
“Drugs of the Sierra Madre
“#12 [of 18] – March 1981
“The US Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) has the authority to investigate and work with foreign countries to stop drug smuggling into the US, usually by working directly with foreign governments and police to stop drug runners and product from being sent. DEA agents carry weapons in foreign countries, but lack the military style force that you see with raids in the US. In foreign countries they must rely on foreign federal troops, and/or state/local police to enact warrants and raids. Sometimes, lip service is paid by the foreign country to the DEA in order to show service, yet keep drug lords happy at the same time. Such a place where this had occurred with growing frequency is Mexico. Without strict Federale swift action, the DEA is practically helpless, unless…
“The CIA on the other hand, has authority in US law to stop threats it sees to the US. While this threat assessment system is relative to policy and leadership, and has no serious regulation, the CIA has powerful authority to order death, destruction, and US military forces into action for its’ own classified purposes. When the DEA learns to beg hard enough, the CIA may help; which they did in the Sierra Madre del Sur in southern Mexico.
“I was approached by AFSOC, DEA, and CIA personnel in February to come up with a plan for March. A drug processing facility was located in the lower mountains, manufacturing thousands of pills of speed and barbiturates daily, that were then sent to the US. A SEAL team and an Army Ranger team were coming up with plans as well and the CIA wanted to choose between them. Committing an action in a country such a Mexico, requires deliberate planning and delicacy. You can’t just bring in a gunship and destroy things; you can’t just bring in a large team of combatants more ready to fire weapons than think.
“After reviewing the imagery and intelligence, I formulated a Scout plan and submitted. In a few days I was told to prepare what I needed and to pick a date within two weeks. A carrier was situated off the western coast, and I was flown to the carrier from Hurlburt Field, Florida. The CIA had provided a stealth Blackhawk helicopter. Blackhawks were relatively new in use at the time, only having been in production since the mid-70’s. The stealth version was flat black with baffled engines, composite crafted rotor blades, and made to excel utilizing night vision in blackout conditions, and built for high speeds at low altitude.
“All explosives and gear were loaded on the chopper, a short briefing was held, and we left as the sun went below the horizon. The area of the processing facility (a small factory) was controlled by a drug cartel. It was in a high desert location several kilometers from the nearest town or residence. There was the factory building which had only two doors – a personnel door and a loading door. These doors were made of heavy gauge steel and were kept locked from the outside during shifts. The building had a mansard roof with an industrial air conditioning unit, and a powered vent stack. Power was supplied by a large generator 50 meters south with an underground fuel tank. A natural gas tank was within 10 meters to power equipment and processes inside. A phone cable provided communications with cartel managers elsewhere. A well with powered pump provided water for personnel, processing, and a sprinkler system. To the north was a parking area for workers’ cars. Straight east was a long winding road leading to cartel entrance boundaries and checkpoints that the workers had to pass through. Five guards were on the outside. One stood constantly in front of the locked personnel door and never moved. He was the one who let workers in, locked them in, and unlocked the door for them to leave at the end of their shift. Four guards walked in concentric circles around the property, each one in his own opposite solar ring. The rings were ~30ft apart. There were several trees with large branches and even larger twisted roots. A sixth guard was inside the facility where he was locked in with the workers for the entire shift.
“To the entire SW & NW area was nothing but rock & ravine… Directly west was open to a box canyon 2km long, .5km high, and ended at a shear wall that was flat on the top. It was over this wall that the Blackhawk sped like a demon and dropped to the canyon floor and continued for .5km and stopped. I took my personal gear, M11 with suppressor, M16 with scope and suppressor, knife, and an odd assortment of killing tools. The explosives and other tools stayed in the chopper, to be called for later, and the chopper lifted and turned and was gone to sit waiting at the top of the canyon wall…”
…
The following chapter:
“Kit
“March 1981
“We had known each other a year now. She returned in March and we celebrated, made love, and celebrated some more. We saw the Rocky Horror Picture Show and Led Zeppelin’s The Song Remains the Same at the midnight movies. We made love.
“When we stopped to breathe, we started talking about marriage plans, and her family. We had previously discussed some detail – we would have to get married in California, but not until my term was up. Lt Weasel would not allow me time to get married, so I insisted we put it off for a year and a half until my time was up, I would come to California, get work, and we would be married. She liked this idea, more for the time it would give her to work on her family.
“While her Mom was all for her getting married, her Dad was not, and the Mom came around to that way of thinking. Kit’s sister would get them to join her in ganging up on Kit. Basically the argument was “he’s not an officer”, “his work is too dangerous”, “you’ll be a widow or stuck as a military wife on some god-forsaken base.” She tried to assure them that I was getting out before too long, that we had decided to put off the wedding until then, and she would never be living on a military base. As for the danger, she wanted to know why they were always praising veterans and the military, yet when she wanted to marry just what they praise, they were extremely negative. It all fell on deaf ears.
“Kit was still extremely happy, but I could tell they were wearing on her. The officer & NCO remarks hurt. I knew what I did, and I knew what pilots did, and I knew what Major Fleming and Lt Weasel did. She insisted we were going ahead, and I could only accept that. I wanted to talk with her about some of the things I had done, but it just didn’t feel safe to do so. The killings and how they made me feel seemed too intense to discuss, and I was afraid I would scare her off.
“We spent time swimming, body surfing, naked swimming, and fucking on the beach at the tide pool. At night we would get a gallon of beer from the drive through and take it to the beach and watch the sunset as we held each other.
“She said she would return in June. I hugged her and told her I loved her, and she hugged me back and told me she loved me, and I felt it to my very core.”
To read more, purchase the book (it’s much cheaper than a subscription would be).
From the back cover:
“Pronounced gree-Oh-tah. This book is a first-hand account of Rubicon's military experience journey in CIA proxy wars. The depth of his pain and experience that I have personally witnessed moved me to convince him, along with his wife, to open up and detail the events which changed him through time. Ignorance of the American (and other colonial) people is at the heart of much of the cause and effect. I have great respect for all who must face the evils of their life or past and actually commit themselves to examination and change. I despise zealots of religion, politics, and money. My writing is ferocious in this regard, yet deeply caring for the person involved in dealing with the propaganda and lies which led to the committing of atrocities. I'm committed to changing America's love affair with the military (at any cost) and fascism (of any stripe).”
“Sean's book truthfully takes the reader through a horrendous 2.5 years of deception and death, and 40+ years of locking away emotions and truth. His compassion comes through as he describes the aftermath of PTSD. This is a narrative that is jarring and unsettling, but there is a sense that knowing the true invites us to change the reality of our love affair with the military. We can wake up, become aware of what we have allowed to happen with the trillions of dollars spent to kill and ravage other countries (all in the name of America), and change the trajectory of our role in the world. There is hope if we are honest and learn from our past.” (Jules Bond)
“This is NOT another patriotic account of war vainglory. It is a raw and vulnerable account of a man coming to terms with what he has done and how he has grown in life. A veteran of CIA proxy conflicts in El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua has given his story to the author. It is very intense writing, and takes a first hand critical view of the VA, CIA, Presidents, Congress, and especially the American public. I found myself weeping and drawn to the arguments made. It seems geared totally toward combat PTSD, combat veterans, their SO's, young men especially, and an ignorant public. There is plenty of discussion on dealing with an intense PTSD over a life-time, and some advice for sufferers and their SO's and family. It's definitely a different paradigm in this narrative than I've ever read before. The veteran's wife wrote the Foreward and it will definitely grab your heart and conscience.” (Barnes & Noble Editorial Review - AS)
Further reading:
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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 of deception & death; 40+ years of locking up emotions & Truth”). It’s important that you read the Foreward (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.
Read the Foreward (Vanguard) free at Substack. Learn more about the author and Rubicon at Substack and @seangriobhtha (FB). 40% discount available for book clubs, student groups, humanitarian groups, We Are Not Your Soldiers groups, Veterans for Peace groups, & more: Inquire at O.Griobhtha+XRubicon at gmail.