
Tag: Rebel Station
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Kunsan Air Base,
June 6, 1985,
1900 hours
Sunset would be at 1951 hours. The weather report showed the moon at ninety-five percent full, offering some light. What they didn’t say was when the moon would actually be seen.
Lieutenant James was the Bravo Flight commander. With the activities up North and the high probability of terrorists operating in this area, he wanted to make sure this base had the best possible chance. So, for the previous couple of weeks he had been doing a little extra surveillance of the small villages around the installation. And because of his extra attention, he was becoming very apprehensive of the constant movement he was seeing outside the base perimeter – especially near Tango 13. His suspicions increased when he observed the activities around a two-story farmhouse located some three or four hundred meters out. It seemed as if a few of the farmers had a particular interest in a specific part of the fence line. The part of the fence line where a two-meter-wide single footpath led up to a section directly behind the Tango area. He had a bad feeling. He knew a little about wartime operations, and, having studied the different wars, he remembered the Battle of the Bulge, particularly when the Germans sent a special team behind the lines to disrupt communication. What he was seeing reminded him of that. And even though there were manned bunkers all
along the perimeter, he wanted to make sure the security patrols stayed close by. He told the flight chief to post the fire team on the ramp near spot Tango 44. -

“Alright, gentlemen, gather around.” When they were in place, he said,” I brought you out here so we can talk without the possibility of other ears listening in. I don’t want anyone overhearing our plans. Now, as everyone knows, the captain has made it emphatically clear that we are covert, so we will be covert, including covert
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patrolling. Does everyone understand?” He looked at each man, and each one nodded. “Howard.”
“Yes, sir,” Howard said, not knowing what Jake was about to tell him.
“Tomorrow morning, you and your team will be the first team out.” -
My Name is Lonnie M. Fulbright, Retired USAF Combat Security Police, and a veteran of Desert Shield/Storm. Even though this is fiction, it depicts the ups and downs and the everyday struggles of the Security Police in peacetime as well as war. I do hope you are enjoying this story, and as always, LIKE–SUBSCRIBE–COMMENT


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I do hope you are enjoying the story. If you could, please give us a thumbs-up, subscribe, and comment.
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The adventure continues.