924. Chapter 924

After Witness for the Prosecution (Not really)

Episode 8.10

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I don't own this, or Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

Author's note: I've been wanting to write this story as nonfiction for years, but could never find a venue. So, lucky readers, I'm writing it here as fiction. A bit of backstory. In 1967-68, I commanded an Air Force Security Police Squadron in Taiwan. One day I was talking to the major who commanded the Munitions Maintenance Squadron who told me the story. He was an Explosive Ordnance Disposal expert and went to Laos every few months. He swore it was true and I believe him. I'll write a real After Witness for the Prosecution next, I promise.

Richard Castle had been stuck in Chicago's O'Hare Airport for more than a day because of a snowstorm. He had found himself the best hotel room to be had the night before and called his wife to tell her he'd be at least a day late coming back from his book signing tour. Kate commiserated with him and they told each other how much they missed each other.

The next day, Castle had called the airport and was told that planes would be flying soon, so he headed back to O'Hare, only to find that the airlines definition of "soon" wasn't the same as his. He'd gone onto his laptop, written a bit, played some games and then had an early lunch. He played on his computer for a few more hours, then decided to go to the bar and people watch for a while.

He found a seat in the bar which was crowded with people who were stuck here like he was. Castle ordered a Scotch and looked at the people in the mirror behind the bar. Regrettably for his book, none of them looked like drug mules, international assassins, runaway brides or even cops.

"Excuse me, but aren't you Richard Castle, the author?"

Castle looked to his left at the man who'd spoken. He was old, Castle guessed, in his sixties or older, with close cropped white hair, a weather beaten face, but with laugh lines around the eyes and he appeared to be in good shape, with a flat stomach and broad shoulders.

"Guilty." Castle said with a smile, hoping the man wasn't some kind of critic.

The man held out his hand and smiled. "Randy Ford, but everyone calls me Gunny."

"Gunny?"

"I was with Uncle Sam's Misguided Children, the Marines, for twenty six years as a Marine Gunnery Sergeant. All of us are called Gunny."

Castle nodded. "I'll have to remember that." Castle blurted out, "Thank you for your service."

Gunny Ford laughed. "You're welcome, sir."

"Call me Rick, and could I buy you a drink?"

Ford nodded. "That's the way to thank a Marine." He laughed.

Rick called the bartender over and ordered Scotch for both of them.

"I really like your books. You married the lady that Nikki Heat is based on, didn't you?"

Castle smiled proudly. "Best thing I ever did in my life."

The man held up his left hand, showing a gold wedding band. "Same here."

They both raised their glasses in a silent toast to their wives.

"I really liked the Derrick Storm books. I knew some spooks back in the day. Some people who worked for Air America, you, know, the only civilian airline in the world to hire bombardiers."

Castle looked at the man for a second. "You must have some great stories to tell. You should write them down."

Gunny laughed. "I tried, but even with my wife's help, even I couldn't tell what I was talking about. I'm a story teller, not a writer. Besides, with the grandkids and all, I don't have the time anymore." Gunny looked off into space. "There is one story…."

"Do you want to tell it to me?" Rick asked, pulling out his notebook. "And could I take notes?"

Gunny nodded. "Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a war story, Rick?"

Rick shook his head.

"A fairy tale begins, "Once upon a time… "and a war story begins, "This is no shit." He paused for a second. "This is no shit."

"Back during Vietnam, I used to go into Laos to do stuff. In the middle of Laos there's a limestone mountain, karst, they call it. On top of the mountain was a battalion of Pathet Lao, the local communists. A battalion at full strength is about eight hundred people, but most battalions everywhere are under strength. At the bottom of the mountain was a battalion of the Royal Laotian Army, our side, supported by a battery of 105 mm guns manned by third country nationals. In this case they were Thais. Now there are Thais all over South East Asia, not just in Thailand, so Royal Thai military personnel would leave their own service and go to work for the Company, then when their contracts were up, they'd go back to their own military. That gave the Company plausible deniability, I guess.

"Anyway, in the morning, the artillery would start shelling the top of the mountain and the Royal Laotian Army would get ready to move. Now the Laotians were a lot more like a medieval army than most. Mom would go along with her soldier husband to cook for him, and take care of him if he got sick or wounded. The girls would help mom and eventually marry a soldier. The boys would clean Dad's weapon and his gear and grow up to be soldiers, maybe. And If Dad got killed, Mom would look for another soldier husband."

Gunny Ford got a faraway look in his eyes. "Anyway, about noon, the artillery would run out of shells and would have to send some trucks back to the ammunition resupply point for more. When they were resupplied, the artillery would start up again and after a few hours, the Royal Laotian Army would assault the mountain. When they'd get to the top, they'd find the Pathet Lao had gone, down the other side of the mountain. "

Gunny laughed. "Now the Laotians had a problem. All of the defenses on the mountain were now oriented the wrong way for them, and all of the battalion's heavy weapons, machine guns, mortars, recoilless rifles as well as radios, concertina wire and mines, all the things you'd need to make a place defensible were at the base of the mountain. Plus, it was late afternoon and the sun was going down."

"What happened?" Rick asked.

"They did the only sensible thing. They went back down the mountain to where they'd started, before it got dark. Then the Pathet Lao would climb back up the mountain from their side and get back in their old bunkers and foxholes. And everyone would start all over again the next day. Day after day after day."

"How long had that been going on?" Rick asked.

Gunny shrugged. "Some of the old Company hands said it'd been going on since at least the early sixties, others said it had started when the French were there in the forties and fifties. Anyway, the two battalions had been fighting over that mountain for a long time."

"What was the purpose of all that?"

Ford shrugged. "It kept two battalions away from making trouble elsewhere. And it kept two battalion commanders from getting involved in a part of the war where they could get hurt. Aside from that, I couldn't say."

There was a brief announcement on the PA system and Ford downed his drink. "Nice talking to you, Rick. That's my flight."

Castle watched the Marine walk away and then looked down at his notes. Then he shook his head and put the notebook away.