Only 2 types of people do not own this book – hippies and the illiterate

They say that back in the day a viable defense for a charge of manslaughter was “He needed killing.” This, no doubt, was a very popular state of affairs in East Texas, the setting of Seth Anderson Bailey’s writing debut.

Bailey, a wounded Iraq War veteran was formerly a 82nd Airborne Division LRSD “Lurp”(Long Range Surveillance Detachment) . Likewise, his protagonist, Jedediah Shaw, is a former paratrooper and an Iraq War veteran with his own rucksack full of demons.

Shaw returns to the small East Texas town he calls home and an oft times tumultuous relationship with Abigail, the girl he previously left behind to go off and fight “his” war. But, like a lot of returning vets have realized, it was easier carrying an M-4 and door kicking in Baghdad than it is returning to “normal” life and handling the everyday demands of civilian life as a husband and a college student.

Despite heartfelt promises he made himself in the desert , or maybe because of them, he finds himself leading a life of quiet desperation, working as muscle for a local bondsman.

Running down bail jumpers doesn’t quite pay the bills though and he soon finds himself mired by debt and looking for a way out. And of course someone makes him an offer. Good money for a simple task, or so he tells himself. The evil-doing rich scion of a local dynasty contacts Jeb. He wants his old high school classmate to find his sister and return her home.

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Our Foreign Correspondent Rob Krott sent me a copy of the book he wrote about the time he spent as a mercenary and contractor in the 90’s; “SAVE THE LAST BULLET FOR YOURSELF: A Soldier of Fortune in the Balkans and Somalia”.

As a big fan of books about modern Mercenaries, Private Military Companies (PMC) and Civilian Contracting I have been quite disappointed with the rash of so called mercenary and civilian contractor books that have been released lately.

Pretty much all of them are written by an observer or war tourist who would spend a week or two in a war zone and then proclaim themselves “experts” or an “authority” on the contracting and private soldiering business then write a book.

That’s why reading Rob Krott’s book was a breath of fresh air amongst the poser PMC books – this book was written by someone that actually did what he wrote about. For those of you that don’t know about Rob Krott he is the former Chief Foreign Correspondent for Soldier of Fortune Magazine and has been writing about the Mercenary, Private Military Company (PMC) and Civilian Contracting business for quite some time.

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Back at the hotel that night I learned that five utility company or construction workers (reports varied) were snatched near Tetovo by Albanians and beaten. They were released after having the initials of their captors carved in their backs. They were made to pray to Allah if they wanted water. Nice people, those Albanians.

The impetus for the demonstrations the night before were the ten soldiers killed in an ambush just north of Tetovo. A 40-vehicle convoy of troop transports, tanks, and APCs was making its weekly rotation to Tetovo. The NLA fired it up with RPGs and machine-guns 10 miles west of Skopje near Bojane. Eight of the dead were from Prilep. Despite ongoing peace negotiations the war continued unabated.

I took a cab to the Macedonian defense ministry on Orce Nikolov. When I arrived I walked through the gate and approached a soldier, Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder, standing behind a pile of sandbags that was “tactical” (it was draped with camouflage shelter halves). He looked confused at my approach and nervously fingered his walkie-talkie.

In my very best Serbo-Croat (Bosnian accent) I said “Dobro jutro” and pointed at myself, smiled and said, “Amerikanac novinar.” He just pointed to the building’s front entrance further down the driveway. I walked over to the building up the frayed red carpet and entered. Inside I began to tell the entranceway receptionist why I was there when an MP soldier in British DPM type BDUs, white pistol belt, and holster approached me.

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At least ten of Osama bin Laden’s close associates were involved with the organizing, financing and arming of the NLA in Macedonia

According to the Utrinski Vesnik, a Skopje daily newspaper, at least ten of Osama bin Laden’s close associates are directly and personally involved with the organizing, financing and arming of the NLA were in Kosovo during the crisis. Using false passports they infiltrated Macedonia to organize the NLA.

Two Saudi nationals, Fatah Ali Hasanin and Omar Alavadi, are considered the principal founders of the NLA in Macedonia. Utrinski Vesnik published a list of bin Laden’s associates in the Balkans claiming that Hasanin, an Al Qaida member, is supposedly in charge of the jihad in Southeast Europe.

During the Kosovo crisis, “according to some intelligence sources,” Hasanin was in Macedonia, i.e. in Skopje, Tetovo, and Gostivar to organize military training for the NLA. He occasionally traveled to Kosovo via a KFOR vehicle with French license plates. He had a meeting with Hashim Taci, who used to be a KLA(UCK) leader and is now a leader of the Democratic Party of Kosovo.

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NLA rebels in Macedonia 2001

Rain plastered my t-shirt to my body. Even with the overcast sky and the drizzling rain it was hot in Tetovo. The soldiers manning the roadblock and yelling at me in Macedonian made that obvious. Clad in civilian clothes, albeit also wearing a green SOF t-shirt and GI jungle boots, I didn’t present a military target and tried to exit the battered Mercedes as nonchalantly as possible.

I could hear the unmistakable rattle-rattle of automatic weapons fire in the distance. My driver was nervous and begged me to leave my camera in the car…

Tucked into the rolling hills near the Kosovar border and about 25 miles west of Skopje, Tetovo, one of the five largest cities in Macedonia, was the latest simmering conflict in an area that has become the boiling pot of modern European land warfare. Tetovo is a large northwestern town with a mainly ethnic-Albanian population.

The political tensions between the Macedonian government and the country’s Albanian minority first erupted over the University of Tetovo, an Albanian-language university in the city. Established by ethnic Albanians in 1995 it quickly was declared illegal by Macedonia and became a symbol of the ethnic strife, resulting in violent clashes between police and demonstrators.

In the Spring of 2001 minor ethnic clashes and street demonstrations grew into a full-scale guerrilla war. Adding this to Croatia and Bosnia it was my third Balkan war … having sat out the whole Kosovo thing.

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"No Other Option" by Marcus Wynne

Smell the Cordite, Feel the Muzzle Blasts….

I don’t read much fiction – mostly I only spend my time with non-fiction military history. So trust me when I tell you this thriller is a first-class great read. Marcus Wynne’s No Other Option has been out for nearly a decade and there is a sequel as well — Brothers in Arms which links the hero of  No Other Option with the hero of Warrior in the Shadows — so this is first in a series of three.

No Other Option is a page-turner of a novel, packed with realistic up-close and personal gunplay and urban combat, high body counts, and exploding cop cars. If I didn’t already know the author personally I’d be completely blown away and wondering where this guy has been hiding…

Wynne’s story is about a spec ops NCO who “goes off the reservation” and is incarcerated in federal prison. Schooled in the art of military mayhem as a trained killer, Jonny Maxwell, the villain, was once a high-speed, low-drag special operations soldier. Unfortunately, Maxwell had one serious flaw: he was an insane serial rapist who liked to listen to tape recordings of his crimes while on his military missions.

Here, Wynne has created a real scumbag of a bad guy and a seriously formidable individual. Some one you want to blow away yourself. Jonny escapes from Leavenworth with the intention to wreak as much havoc as possible and make a major “score” on his way out of the country. In his wake is a bloody trail of mayhem and carnage. Tops on his list for revenge is his old friend and protégé, Dale Miller, who testified against him.

Two Unidentified Marcus Wynne Fans in an Undisclosed Location

Miller is sent by his commander in Special Operations Command to assist the Federal Marshals in hunting Maxwell down – and if necessary, exterminating him with extreme prejudice. Miller wants to capture Maxwell and return him to prison, but you just know that ain’t gonna happen.

He embarks on this mission with his trusty MP-5 submachine gun and a bag of tricks. He links up with some cops who are mistrustful and to keep things steamy, a Twin Cities homicide detective named Nina Capushek. Nina is a tough, capable female who, like Miller, thrives on danger, adrenaline, and a life on the edge. They deal will several cops and Federal Marshals, who view Miller as an adversary and someone to mistrust. Further complicating matters for Miller is another “operator” sent to shadow Miller and to kill Maxwell if Miller can’t do the job.

No Other Option is a standout amongst thrillers. Written by an “operator” it brings a taunt, action-packed story from the shadowy world of covert operations into the bright light of federal law enforcement. It’s so technically accurate and realistic the cordite will sting your eyes and the muzzle blasts will make you flinch. I read this book in one sitting.

It has garnered recommendations from Stephen Coonts, David Morrell, and John “Lofty” Wiseman.

Why is it so good? Maybe because Marcus Wynne is the real deal: a former grunt who patrolled the Korean DMZ as an original member of our North Korean Hunting Club. An ex-82nd Airborne trooper, he later became a Federal Air Marshal. He led a counter-terrorist Air Marshal team during the Gulf War and was later hired as a private consultant to train the South Africa Police Services’ hostage rescue team and Nelson Mandela’s Presidential Protection Unit.

"Clutch" and "Cohiba" (Rob Krott) at the Counter-Terrorism Special Operations Facility (CTSOF) Baghdad, Iraq, enjoying some smokes and Marcus Wynne novels. 2004.

He’s also a serious martial arts “player” and a skilled gunfighter. So if you’re tired of reading books where the author doesn’t know a 9mm from an entrenching tool, rest assured this book is accurate. Wynne gets it right, without boring you with arcane technical details or Clancy-esque techno-babble. And there’s rumors of a movie deal — hopefully they’ll make it into an action adventure movie without messing up the BTDT accuracy.

Rob Krott

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From Mercenary to Security Contractor and Back Again

CATO Institute

by David Isenberg
U.S. Navy veteran David Isenberg is a military affairs analyst. He is an adjunct scholar with the Cato Institute and the author of a forthcoming book, Shadow Force: Private Security Contractors in Iraq

Added to cato.org on September 12, 2008
This article appeared in United Press International on September 12, 2008.

By legal definition, security contractors are not mercenaries, but the dividing line is porous: There is nothing to say today’s contractor was not a mercenary in the past. And even if he was not, he could be in the future.

After all, both use somewhat similar skill sets, at least in terms of military expertise. The main difference nowadays is that security contractors protect their clients while mercenaries fight in combat.

That said, being a mercenary is not necessarily a bad thing, as a newly published book seeks to explain.

The book is “Save the Last Bullet for Yourself: A Soldier of Fortune in the Balkans and Somalia.” The author is Rob Krott, a former U.S. Army officer who worked as a mercenary in the wars in Croatia and Bosnia in 1992 and 1993, and as a contractor in Somalia. Since then he has served in the field with the Sudanese People’s Liberation Army and has worked on contract in Latin America, Afghanistan, Angola, Cambodia, Yemen and parts of the former Soviet Union. Most recently, he served about three years as a “security specialist” in Iraq. Krott was on active duty in the U.S. Army for most of the 1980s and did some time in the National Guard and Reserves, but soon discovered he was not cut out for a career in civilian life.

He is honest enough about why he does the work. He gets a kick out of it. He writes, “I do what I do because I like it, it interests me, it beats the hell out of riding a desk all day long, and maybe because I’ve got a serious adrenaline jones.” He makes no preens about having deep insights; it is just his story.

And, for the most part, it is a pretty interesting story, marred only by the periodic use of cliches like “lock and load” or “rock and roll.” And, at times, he has a tendency to get a little immersed in military tradecraft. Nobody really needs to know about the Panama Triangle patrol base technique or the details of sniping with a 7.92mm Yugoslav Mauser. But those are minor problems.

The book opens with Krott defending himself against a drunk mercenary who fails in killing him only because the selector switch on his AK-47 was on safe. He and Krott are part of a unit of the King Tomislav Brigade, part of the Croat Defense Force. Krott worked as a trainer-adviser teaching basic soldiering and infantry tactics — in short, a leader of mercenary troops.

This was back in 1992, when the action in the Balkans still was on the back pages in most of the U.S. media. One thing that Krott makes clear quickly is that the glamorous Hollywood portrayal of high-paid international mercenaries is sheer fiction. What is more likely is that your unit will consist of ex-convicts, drug addicts, alcoholics and outright psychotics, many of whom couldn’t fight their way out of a paper sack. That helps explain why at a certain point the Croatians refused to take on any more “international volunteers.”

Krott spends a few months in the country before local politics force him to leave, right before war starts in Bosnia.

In his next job he is working for what we now call a private military contractor. He gets a gig with BDM Inc., one of the myriad of government contractors around Washington, as the assistant team chief of the Somali Linguist Team, a 100-person unit of native Somalis recruited off the streets of D.C. to translate for U.S. personnel in the field.

This job is instructional for what we might think of various private military contractors today. The State Department had no idea of how to vet the Somalis and didn’t even know enough to ask for the interpreters’ clan affiliation, a mistake that would cost them later.

The way BDM operated in Somalia then, according to Krott, could just as well be said about many companies in Iraq now. Krott writes, “BDM had painted a glowing picture of how the contract was run. They didn’t mention any of the problems we had encountered in Somalia, or in recruiting and administering the Somalis, hence there were no lessons learned.”

The lessons one draws from reading of Krott’s experience in Somalia will dismay those who think private military contractors are an essential part of future humanitarian operations in Africa or elsewhere, as many of those advocating greater involvement in Sudan’s Darfur region seem to believe. Some good things may result, but it is far from clear that it will be worth the cost or effort, despite all the claims made for private-sector cost-effectiveness. His bottom line: “It was all for nothing.”

The last portion of the book takes Krott back to the Balkans. In 1993 he is part of a Soldier of Fortune magazine training team in Bosnia, once again assisting the King Tomislav Brigade to train Croatians fighting the Serbs. This time he has better comrades in his unit than he did in Croatia. We learn the background and motivations of mercenaries from France, Germany and Britain, among many other countries.

Another important point is that many mercenaries are in it for the sheer thrill and adventure of it, not for the pay. Krott notes that most mercenary soldiers weren’t getting paid more than a few hundred dollars a month. That’s less than you can get serving fries and burgers at McDonald’s. It helps explain why so many mercenaries were barely functional. Certainly, no well-trained mercenary with solid soldiering skills would want to work for such paltry wages, if money were their primary motivation.

Krott ends with an epilogue that recounts the sad and often dismal end of many of the mercenaries he served with. One can only hope, for the sake of the private military industry, that it manages to weed out many of the misfits that Krott encountered.

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Neptunus Lex

If you grew up with a martial mindset in the late 70s and early 80s, it was impossible not to be aware of the magazine “Soldier of Fortune.” A quick perusal of the subject matter revealed a fixation on military weapons and tactics at the unit level, and opportunities to be had the world over – there was always trouble brewing somewhere. That was during the Cold War of course, when wars were fought by proxy. If anything, things got more chaotic after the Berlin Wall came down.

It wasn’t quite my cup of tea: Blowing bubbles in the mud at a couple hundred dollars a month while rounds snapped overhead in the service of one or another otherwise indistinguishable foreign autocrat warmed no cockles in my patriotic heart. And the classified ads in the back spoke of sociopaths looking for work to wet. I found it off-putting myself, but each to his own says I, and every man must find beauty where he can.

Rob Krott, a Pennsylvania hill boy and a veteran of US Army infantry tours in Korea and elsewhere, found his beauty fighting foreign wars with an AK-47 in his hand.

He was, as he freely admits, a mercenary.

We should probably choose another word: “Mercenary”sounds so, well. Mercenary. But Krott makes clear that there’s little more than survival rations fighting in the seams of wars the rest of the world would rather not think about. Having next to nothing, his Croat patrons couldn’t pay much. The best money Krott made was as a contractor for the US government in hopeless Somalia.

The word has a pejorative connotation over here, always has. The otherwise neutral Swiss have earned something of a reputation for themselves out of doors in the old country, while the Hessians fought over here for pay, making no friends along the way. We’ve a decided preference for citizen soldiers, muskets and back yards. We resent going afield, do it only when we think we have to for the sake of the Republic and scamper home as soon as ever we might.

But some of us are not all of us, and for a professional soldier concluding his work in a peacetime army, sometimes the lure of adventure beckons. Some men fight not because their country is threatened, but because that is all they know. They’re made for it.

It has to be adventure, or a desire to put one’s skills to the active test: For $100 per month, the only people who’d choose to sign on in Other People’s Wars are those who 1) aren’t welcome at home, or 2) are never happier than with a full magazine, load bearing equipment and someone to shoot at that shoots back. For an adrenaline junkie, it is the most dangerous game.

You get introduced to the lot of adrenaline junkies in Krott’s book. It’s a peek inside a world that few know but many wonder about. A pull no punches novel that reads like an extended conversation over endless bottles of beer. There’s a feeling of stubbled beards, stubbed cigarettes and lurking danger.

Krott starts out in the Balkans, and ends there too, with a brief interlude in Somalia. Other climes are hinted at – other books promised – but the story is clear enough: In the late 20th century’s wars of suddenly liberated sectarians, any fight will do. It’s only a matter of making your way over, clearing customs, picking the side that most needs your help and telling a compelling story. When you’re on the side of the hard pressed – the Serbs alone had armor – almost any story would apparently do.

Krott has good words for most he fought for, and a few for those he fought alongside to go with his unmasked contempt for many – the wannabe’s who’d bluff and bluster but never show up. He reserves his worst condemnation for a few of those that do. The psychopaths, mental deficients and serial liars who drop in, draw weapons and then scamper home, whether that be to a tavern behind the lines or all the way back to Germany, France, Britain or America. Intermixed with these are examples of real heroism, even grace. It’s a picture that never quite coalesces, a canvas that remains maddeningly impenetrable.

Just as those who haven’t served under arms in their country’s defense will never really understand those who have, so too will the rest of us – even those who have had the opportunity to be shot at and shoot back -  never really understand what it means to sleep off a hangover in Tomislava before setting off on a combat patrol against irregular Serbian militias in the contested hamlets of a disintegrating country. Krott’s book brings you close to understanding the players, if not the game.

Recommended.

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RobKrott.com Launched

by Rob Krott on February 15, 2010

in Uncategorized

This is my new website, I hope everyone likes it

RK

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