With war and violence accelerating around the globe, driven by the United States, it seems appropriate to examine how young men get caught up in the abattoir of the killing machine. If you think this could have never happened to you, to your son(s), cousins, friends, fathers, uncles, etc…, think again. Never underestimate the power of propaganda and lies, and the lack of fore-brain development. It should be clear to the reader that these usurpations of Life, by the US and others, have been going on for a very long time; and they have gone on across cultures for centuries. In the words of an IDF soldier admitting guilt, “They were never the terrorists, we were. We have always been the terrorists.”
[chapter from X Rubicon]
Guatemalan Funeral Pyre
#7 [of 18] – November 1980
On a bright yet very cloudy night, with a torrential rain pouring down unceasingly, I dropped into the Guatemalan jungle to destroy a weapons cache. The cache was yet to be hidden away, sitting in crates underneath rain tarps. Because the cache was unhidden, four rebel guards protected the weapons at four corners of the cache. There would be no way to get at the cache without killing the guards, and the gunships couldn’t see the cache from their vantage point without markers, but since the guards would be gone, there was no sense involving the gunships at all.
So much rain coming down made sighting almost impossible. The guards were within shouting distance of each other, and my suppressors would not suppress noise enough. It was necessary to kill the guards with a quick knife strike. I normally carried a large knife (10” blackened blade). During training we had practiced these knife strikes repeatedly. This would be my first actual multiple knife strikes outside of training. There’s a lot of fear and trepidation to control and swallow preparing for this kind of kill. The subject must be approached quietly from the back, or surprised fast from the front or side.
The only way to approach the first guard, on the SW corner, was from the side. He kept his front to the corner vegetation, which gave him too much front view for my comfort. The south side had closer vegetation in which to creep up slowly and set for a quick kill. I crawled through the thick vegetation until I was ~10 feet away, where I thought I was just behind his peripheral vision. I ratcheted down my feelings and did a quick-time crouch to within a few feet and drove my knife into his lung, pulled it out and drove it into his back with a twist. He gurgled a little as blood flowed from his mouth and nostrils, and his breath left his body as his eyes stared wildly and became dark, and I lay him down.
I hesitated for a few seconds, which I knew was inherently dangerous – but this was a sick feeling moment, that I had just done a terrible thing. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury of reflection, and there were three more guards that had to die. The NW corner would be next as he was closest. Now that the first guard was gone, I could easily approach that corner of the cache on a crawl. The rain had turned the entire area into mud, but the noise from the rain made moving about without detection somewhat easier. Once at the cache, I moved under the tarp toward the NW corner. When I reached that corner, I peered out from under the tarp. The guard was standing with his back to me. He was shorter than me. I moved quickly and with arm around his throat pulling up his jaw tight, I drove my knife into his back and twisted. He shook for a few seconds and then went limp. I lay him down on the ground.
The third guard at the NE corner, and the fourth at the SE corner, were done in the same manner. Pictures of the bodies were required, but I don’t know how they turned out, as the rain came down in sheets. I pulled the bodies under the tarp, to be destroyed with the weapons. I retrieved my explosives pack and brought it under the tarp. Lids were removed to take pictures of the contents and to place incendiary explosives inside. I knew the rain was going to be a problem, because these containers needed to burn hot, so I had brought along magnesium shavings and small, sealed, waterproof packets of elemental sodium and placed a generous amount in about every other container. I made sure the charges registered and crawled back out toward my exit path.
~50 yards down my path I detonated the explosives and the magnesium burned bright and hot, and the rain combined with the sodium to force an unstable chemical burn. No weapon would survive that fire. Taking one last picture, I moved away from the area fast. I dodged Guatemalan military (informed to go to the location by the CIA), and reached my extraction point and was returned to a local airbase where a C-130 waited for me already running. We returned to Hurlburt and debriefing immediately took place in a building just off the flight line.
Lt Weasel, in his usual know-it-all mood, berated my choices, but I really didn’t care. His word on planning meant nothing anymore. Then he started digging into me regarding the killings. He told me he was surprised, that he didn’t think I would have the guts to go through with it. He told me how he would have done it better, and faster, and never felt sorrow or care. Bill could see me getting agitated and he walked behind me and put both hands on my shoulders and squeezed and pushed me down.
I didn’t get sick when I killed those men, but it was an extremely sickening feeling – like you know you’ve done something seriously wrong. However, you console yourself with accolades and “job well done”, and try hard to believe that this killing had a reason based in truth. Lt Col Dave Grossman in On Killing, uses unsubstantiated guess work based upon out of context blathering to assume killing is like sex, that plunging a knife into the body of another is like plunging your dick into another – which it most assuredly is not! I know what sex is Col, even if you don’t. And I know what killing is Col, and know for a fact that you don’t. You are like “virgins talking about sex”. Unless you are a psychopath or sociopath, killing up close is a heinous feeling which you learn to force down and control, at the time.
These killings, even if self-condoned at the time, come back with all the force of vengeance they deserve later, and for the rest of your life. These men, almost 42 years later, continue to remind me what I did to them, and their families. I am fully aware of what I helped do to their country.
**********
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, another combat veteran. You can find him mostly on SubStack. He can be reached at O.Griobhtha+XRubicon@gmail.com. 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.
The art for the book cover, Life Begets Life, was painted by Sophia Rose in 2020 and gifted to Rubicon.
I wonder what our Corporate Gods are up to now in Guatemala. According to corporate news they avoided a coup this past week. How much of that is true? Is it the one put in office ours or the one kept out?
Of course, there's Indonesia now, that the U.S. is exerting great influence over. What are we doing there to determine the outcome?
Many news outlets are paying attention to that election and the NYT is fearmongering over the possible winner. The results could be the “End of Democracy!” according to the Hearst like ‘Yellow Journal’ for that country, as if the U.S. wanted democracy to be. Our leaders see the citizens determining their fate in a democracy and to them that's evil and bad, it's “Communism!”. Indonesia is important now that it is in the Sphere of Influence in our struggle for dominance with China and Russia.
Let's see if the people actually win in their election.