Cold War Navy SEAL: Signs and Rumors of Che Guevara, War in the Congo

COLD WAR NAVY SEAL

My Story of Che Guevara, War in the Congo,  and the Communist Threat in Africa

by James M. Hawes & Mary Ann Koenig

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Signs and Rumors of Che

At the outset of World War I the British Navy was determined to engage the Germans on any and every body of water that the Germans sailed, including a remote Lake bordering the East African German colony of Tanganyika. The only route through which the British and the Belgians could challenge the German troops in East Africa was from the Belgian Congo and across Lake Tanganyika.

The catalyst for the Allied Powers’ entry into the Great War had been Germany’s violation of the 1839 Treaty of London. That treaty committed the signatory powers, including Britain, to defend Belgium’s neutrality in the event of any invasion. A German military strategy called the Schlieffen Plan put the German army on the move through Belgium in order to attack France. The invasion of Belgium is one of the critical dominoes that fell on the road to all-out war in Europe in 1914. With the Belgians deeply indebted to the Brits for living up to their commitment, it was a natural extension that Belgian territory in the Congo be pledged in any effort to defeat Germany.

The German Navy dominated all traffic, commerce and transit on Lake Tanganyika with the gunboats, the 45-ton “Kingani”, the 60-ton “Hedwig von Wissman”, two petrol motor boats and a fleet of “dhows” and “Boston whalers” which werewooden boats based on an American design introduced to East Africa in the early 1900s.

The problems of transport from the United Kingdom to South Africa to the Belgian Congo, plus the presence of German spies, determined the size of the vessels that could be transported over that distance and challenging terrain. The entire operation would have to be achieved in a manner that was as undetectable as possible.

The Officer-in-Charge of the project selected two 40ft motor launches to be moved through this territory. (Our Swifts were 50ft). These launches were originally designed as tenders for the Greek seaplane service. They were given the unlikely names of “HMS Mimi” and “HMS Toutou.” The boats were modified to increase speed and protection and were armed with Maxim machine guns aft, and three-pounder Hotchkiss guns fixed in the bows.

The Thorneycraft shipyard, located in Southampton, England, made special trailers on which the vessels could be carried overland, and cradles for shipment via either sea or rail. The launches were shipped by sea to Cape Town, South Africa, then transported by rail to the confluence of the Lukuga River and into Lake Tanganyika in the Belgian Congo. The port of their final destination was a spot just north of Albertville, which, approximately 50 years later, would become the homeport of the Swifts of our Force Navale Congolaise.

The vessels were assembled and made ready to sail surreptitiously, and began patrols which ultimately resulted in the sinking and destruction of the German East African Fleet on Lake Tanganyika.

It has been said that this adventure was the inspiration for the Academy Award winning movie “The African Queen” which was filmed in the Congo where the Ruiki and Lualaba Rivers join and flow on into Lake Tanganyika.

Our Navy, with our own well-traveled and reassembled Swifts, was operating in a different kind of war. It was still a global conflict but a covert one, made up of proxy wars between the democratic west and the communist east. It was not as simple as that, of course, but our Cold War mission in the Congo, to close down supply lines that had fueled Simba rebel activity, was about weakening insurgent capabilities, holding a line against communism and protecting America’s interests. The results of our raids were also beginning to bear unexpected fruit.

In the mid-1960’s Cold War politicking was turning into an art form. It’s difficult now to imagine the atmosphere. Unlike any other time in history, two super powers had the ability to completely obliterate life on our planet. And they came close. After the Cuban Missile Crisis, where the world had been tipped to the brink of a nuclear exchange, the fear of a Communist take-over didn’t simply drive political anxiety, it mass-produced it. The U.S. and the Soviets faced-off in a punch and counter-punch policy of spying, intelligence gathering and espionage that would last for another three decades, and result in an ever-escalating build-up of nukes, a policy that would be termed MAD (mutually assured destruction.)

My time in the Congo occurredin the heart of this Cold War turmoil. The numbers of weapons grew and their delivery systems became increasingly sophisticated. The techniques for spying on one another evolved and improved and the specter of a Communist revolution that would “topple the dominoes” attracted one side and repelled the other. The collective preoccupation of that potential event drove every government and international spying organization to step up its game, by any means necessary.

Within this atmosphere there were rumors circulating in the media and in the intelligence traffic that Che Guevara, the future iconic face of revolution, was on the move. He had disappeared from public life in Cuba and had not been heard from, fueling speculation not only about his whereabouts, but also about his strained relationship with Fidel Castro.

Later, Castro read a letter Che had written in which he renounced his honorary Cuban citizenship and resigned his post as the Cuban Minister of Industry, a position too passive for a man of his passionate revolutionary zeal. It was assumed that Che’s relentless desire to export the Revolution would compel him look for his next battle. There had been sightings of him in Egypt and elsewhere in Africa, but these reports were usually unsubstantiated. There were rumors of his presence in Tanzania and Congo, but nothing that was reported could be confirmed.

It was known that Laurent Kabila, the leader of the Simbas, spent much of his time in Tanzania, and of course the Tanzanian Lake Port of Kigoma was the departure point for most of the weapons and supplies destined for Eastern Congo’s Simba Rebels.  And our Force Navale Congolaisewas systematically disrupting their lake traffic by interdicting supplies, taking prisoners, and confiscating their weapons.

As time passed and rumors of Che’s whereabouts persisted, Chavez and his crew would uncover a critical piece of that international puzzle while out of lake patrol one night.

The idiosyncrasies of Lake Tanganyika could create unusual conditions; such as collections of massive vegetation large enough to resemble small islands drifting in the lake. They sometimes even included trees that broke off of the banks when heavy rainfall flooded into the rivers that fed the Lake. These large pieces of “land” could float with the current and be blown by the wind until they slowly disintegrated from the surface action of the water.

More than once the crews had been out on the lake and seen these floating islands on the radar and had mistaken them for boats.

Chavez and crew set out on the Swift, Lobo-1during a new moon on a dark, clear night. The Lake was black and calm and they were about 15 or 20 miles from port. Crew member Felix Toledo recalls that they observed something floating, which in the pitch black of night they assumed was another one of these “vegetation islands.” But since they also knew that in very low visibility these formations could actually be boats, the crew continued to scrutinize the floating “vegetation.” They identified what appeared to be five distinct pieces of debris on the water that were stuck together, further tweaking their curiosity.

At full alert, with weapons ready, they eased in closer. Suddenly, it was apparent that these “islands” were drifting in slightly different directions. The crew figured it out almost immediately. They weren’t vegetation islands, but a covey of boats having a rendezvous on the lake.

I was back at base monitoring the radio and I suddenly heard Ricardo Chavez’s voice shout, “Attack!”

The distinct pop, pop, popof machine gun fire came crackling through the radio, immediately distinguishable from the mundane static and clutter. My ear was attuned to the prospect of a firefight and the hair on my arms began to prickle as that unmistakable sound cut through the feeble reception of our rudimentaryequipment. The Swifts were out on the lake and in some shit. The only question was how deep.

The boat crew opened fire first with semi-automatic Soviet AK-47’s, weapons we’d captured in previous raids. That’s one of the ways we hurt them, using their own guns against them. If the boats got really close during the melee of the firefight, the AK’s would come in handy.

Lobo-1 wasarmed for combat, carrying .50 cal machine guns mounted amidships, both port and starboard, and a shoulder-fired .57mm recoilless rifle on the gun tub above the cabin.

A concussive barrage erupted as five enemy vessels returned fire, bullets screaming between the boats. Toledo recalled the events vividly: “As soon as we made contact, one boat separated from the group. In hindsight, we realized it was obviously to distract us, leaving us to contend with the other four boats that were firing intensely.”

The fifth boat that cut away was stationed a short distance behind the others, not firing a shot, just waiting, as if trying to decide whether to re-engage or depart.

Then, their decision made, the fifth boat suddenly swung around and opened up again in a hail of bullets that covered their escape as it sped east, across the black waters of Lake Tanganyika toward the enemy refuge of Tanzania.

I stood by the radio listening, my adrenaline surging. From my own experienceon Swifts,the sound of the weapons told me that the boats were fencing,maneuvering for position to maximize their concentration of firepower.

Time seems to standstill in these intense encounters, especially in a night black as coal with only illumination from periodic tracers. After what seemed like hours, two enemy boats stopped returning fire and pulled away, leaving Lobo-1 to face the remaining pair. They were no match for the shelling our crew hurled at them. The final shots blew the boats apart. Chavez and the rest of the crew watched as they sank without a trace, casualties of superior disciplined firepower from the crew of the Swift Boat, Lobo-1.

After the firefight, Chavez got on the radio to me at the base and I told them to report back. It was just after dawn when Lobo-1 pulled up to the quay. Even in the low morning light it was obvious they had seen action. The Swift was bullet-pocked, riddled with holes in the cabin and sides, and the weapons were still hot. The men looked drained and exhausted.

As a CIA contractor, I was strictly forbidden from participating in this combat. If I were caught or killed, the revelation of direct U.S. involvement in this covert operation could give away and potentially jeopardize the entire mission. I rarely breached that order, but when I did my team respected the need to never disclose it. They protected my butt from any bosses who were too remote to appreciate what had to be done is such circumstances. But it was on nights like this one, as a trained covert combatant, that I desperately wanted, and felt I needed, to bepersonally in the fight.

I debriefed Chavez and it was clear to both of us that there was something very curious about that fifth boat. The manner in which it had escaped suggested it sheltered someone or something important. A VIP, we thought. Otherwise the remaining enemy boats would not have put up such a fierce resistance. Their previous behavior had consistently been “cut and run.”

We had already discovered that Castro Cubans were fighting alongside the communist rebels. We had detected their radio calls, because they weren’t even disciplined enough to protect names or language. They blatantly violated even minimal tactical cover over the radio. And of course, one Cuban recognizes another.

So who had been out on that boat? Who merited such fierce protection?

We believed it had to be Che Guevara. It was reasonable to assume that it would have taken someone of the stature and importance of Che to motivate the four boats to remain in the fight to sacrifice themselves in order to give the fifth boat, possibly containing a VIP in need of protection, the opening to withdraw and escape.

Those in the spook world who studied Che closely followed the reported sightings of him in countries sympathetic to the revolution. Intelligence traffic at CIA and NSA was flooded with information that marked Che’s presence in any leftist-inclined country as a major indicator of instability and at risk of communist revolution. It was more than a matter of curiosity to the intelligence community, because it was felt that Che was a barometer for which country would emerge as the next threat of communist armed rebellion.

A couple of days later the intelligence we received from 5 Commando, which had seized a cache of documents, providedconfirmation that there had been Cubans aboard that fifth boat that had escaped. It was a fact that finally validated what we had reported weeks earlier, that Cubans were fighting in Congo alongside the Simbas. Now there was no doubt; everybody knew. But what wasn’t confirmed was the very strong possibility that it was Che Guevara on board that boat.

Our original navy interdictionmission had been defined without regard for Che Guevara and his band. But the knowledge of his presence would be an adrenaline jolt for us. Our “point of the spear” operation now looked like a high priority for the communists, with implications far beyond our pay-grades.

In response, the Agency would ante-up, with accelerated delivery of vitalspare parts, a single side-band radio to improve communications, and an experienced Case Officer who expanded our ability to collect and analyze intelligence. With beefed-up support, our Force Navale Congolaise went to all ahead, full. We weren’t going to allow the enemy an upper hand, even if they felt they had a seasoned revolutionary commander leading them. We were determined to draw the battle lines. Our tactics would dictate strategy and be the game-changers, not the other way around.

We would find out soon enough if it was Che aboard that boat that escaped in the fire fight. And as Toledo says, “he slipped through our fingers.” But we’d get another shot at him.