Knowing that Dixon was also VMI, Lewis saw a chance to pay back Dixon's rebuff. "How'd you earn your Purple Heart, Captain, from one of the female cadets at VMI?"
For a second, Cerro imagined himself as a helpless infantryman pinned down between the crossfire of two opponents. Unable to figure out how best to respond, he was rescued by Dixon. "Ah, hell, no, Congressman.
Captain Cerro is a member of the old corps, when men were men and girls were dates."
A smirk lit Lewis's face. "I see. Now I understand why you have Captain Cerro in charge of the program designed to evaluate the effectiveness of female combat officers."
Lewis's comment smacked Dixon like a two-by-four. Well, Dixon thought, I should have known better than try to mess with this guy.
Begrudgingly, he acknowledged that Lewis was too sharp to play games with. Mustering a smile, he took a sip of his beer and asked Lewis what he could do for him.
"I was hoping to have a word in private with you."
"Of course." Dismissing Cerro, Dixon escorted Lewis to the patio.
"What can I do for you, Congressman?"
Lewis leaned against a table, half sitting on it. "Today, in the briefings, I detected a certain amount of dissatisfaction with both the intelligence summaries coming from the DIA and the war plans you briefed. In fact, you went out of your way to accentuate every negative aspect of the plan. I was, to say the least, quite taken aback by the fact that an officer with your reputation would get your commander to buy into such a gloomy and pessimistic briefing."
Dixon looked down at his beer, swirled the bottle, and took a sip before answering. For a moment, he tried to come up with an evasive answer, but decided to pass on that idea. It was, after all, hard to bullshit a bullshitter and Lewis, he realized, knew bullshit when he saw it. "Big Al never buys into anything he doesn't want to." Dixon let that comment hang in the air for a moment while he took another sip from his beer.
Ready, he looked Lewis in the eye. "You're right, I am not at all thrilled with what we have to work with, intelligence wise, that is. Nor am I thrilled with our strategic goals, and when I say strategic, I'm talking about political goals and objectives. I especially don't like the idea that there are people who seriously believe in using the American military to salvage a bankrupt foreign policy."
Taken aback by Dixon's comments, Lewis paused for a moment before continuing. Though Lewis had used the same arguments, and had, in a different way, said the same thing, Dixon's accusations hit him like a slap in the face. As a member of Congress, and a prominent figure in Washington, he was guilty, through association, of both the good and the bad calls that came from that city.
Though he wanted to, Dixon fought the urge to smirk. He saw that Lewis was both surprised by his response and somewhat embarrassed.
The jerk, he thought, had asked for it. Still, he had to remember that Lewis was, after all, a congressman, while Dixon was a there lowly lieutenant colonel. Lewis was the maker and giver of policy, Dixon a simple swordbearer for the realm. He therefore decided to ease off and defuse the tension between them. "Congressman, have you ever studied the Little Big Horn campaign?"
Relieved that Dixon was changing the subject, Lewis went along.
"I've read about it, but never really studied it. Why?"
"In 1875 we had elements in our country who viewed the American Indians as an 'inconvenience' to their plans. Land, and the resources those lands contained, were, in their opinion, wasted on the Indians. In order for the nation to grow, and, oh by the way, to amass a fortune for themselves, these well-meaning advocates of manifest destiny did their best to remove that inconvenience. The motivation they relied on to precipitate action was the unthinking hatred that white America had for the red savages. The tool they used was the U.S. Army."
Lewis put his hand up. "Okay, Colonel, hold it. Are you saying that today's version of the robber barons are out to start a war and that we are unjustified in defending ourselves?"
Without skipping a beat, Dixon continued. "No, I am not. I have no reason to believe that anyone in the United States is involved in precipitating this crisis. What I am trying to point out is that there are people, well-meaning people in this case, who are using their influence to apply political pressure on our national leaders to take a course of action that is both ill-advised and could result in embarrassment and disaster."
"If that is true, Colonel, why are you the first soldier I've heard come out so strongly against such an operation?"
Dixon looked at his bottle, and gave it a swirl. "There are any number of reasons for not doing so, just as there were many reasons why the U.S.
Army did what it did in 1876. First, there is the philosophy that we are soldiers and our job is simply to obey. The president and Congress decide national policy, we only execute. You know, the old 'Roger, out, can do' attitude."
"You think that's wrong?"
"It's not my place to decide right or wrong. It is my duty to point out what is possible and what is not. You see, I happen to believe in the American system. But, having said that, we cannot ignore the dark side of some of the people in the American military." Dixon lifted his beer bottle and used the index finger of the hand holding the bottle to point at Lewis. "You see, Congressman, every time the Army is ordered out, we can justify our existence. Whenever you give us a mission, we salute with one hand and reach out with the other for more funds, since every time the United States is without an enemy or a viable threat, the Army shrivels up into an unimportant and expensive inconvenience. A small Army with no mission means slow promotions and little opportunity for fame and glory."
"I thought you guys prided yourself in your selfless service and professionalism?"
Dixon laughed. "If you still believe that, I would appreciate it if you went back and looked at recordings of the news broadcasts shot during Just Cause and Desert Storm. More than a few senior commanders and officers took great pains to make themselves available to the television cameras so as to 'help' the American public understand the war. And, when it was over, they sacrificed their military careers, retiring so that they could travel the speaking circuit, for a fee of course. No, Congressman, egos and self-interest do not disappear when you put on a uniform.
Though Mexico ain't the evil empire Russia used to be, it happens to be the only game in town, for the moment."
"What's your alternative? Do nothing? Let the raids continue? Surely even you can appreciate that there isn't a single congressman or senator from the southwest who is willing to sit and do nothing in Washington while their constituents are being shot in their own backyards? The demand for direct and effective action is becoming too compelling to ignore.
That, Colonel, is a political reality."
Nodding his head, Dixon agreed. "I understand that. Just as Terry did when he left Fort Abraham Lincoln in 1876 to catch the Sioux, and Pershing went to Texas to punish Pancho Villa. We'll go where we are sent and do what we are told. That, however, doesn't mean that it's the right or proper thing to do."
Lewis grunted. "I see you believe in the Pancho Villa theory."
"Not necessarily. Though that line of thinking is, in my opinion, the most logical, no one can confirm it. And that, Mr. Congressman, is exactly my point. No one is able to confirm or deny any of the theories concerning the raids along the border. Yet, in spite of this lack of solid evidence, everyone is chomping at the bit, demanding that we commit the Army. What's going to happen, to us and the future of our two countries, if we find out, after all the shooting is over, that we shot the wrong guy?
My God, sir! Even the most brutal murderer in the United States must have overwhelming and irrefutable evidence brought against him before he is punished. Shouldn't the Mexican people be given the same courtesy?"