Devil's Den: Marines War in Lebanon 1983

By LTCol David Brown USMC

Devil’s Den is another eye gripping narrative by the battle tested warrior and author David Brown. He takes us to Lebanon in mid-1983 with a group of hotshot young sailors and Marines on a mission they don’t understand and are not trained for: Peacekeeping! Trained to fight or kill, these cocky young “peacekeepers” are restrained by something entirely new: rules of engagement.

U.S Ambassador Ted Britton, WWII Marine

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781984588593

LTCol David Brown USMC

Lieutenant Colonel Dave Brown retired from the U.S Marine Corps in 1982. During 22 years of active duty, his two hours in Vietnam were remarkably memorable as he was both an advisor and rifle company commander during the 1967 - 1969 height of the war. In 2007 he became the Executive Director of the Second Marine Division Association. His first three novels are about the Marine wars in Vietnam and Nicaragua.

Book preview

DEVIL’S DEN

Marines War in Lebanon 1983

David Brown

Copyright © 2020 by David Brown.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 01/13/2021

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

812589

CONTENTS

Preface

The Blast

PART 1

Lord, Where Do We Find Such Men?

Chapter 1 Emanuel M. Simmons

Chapter 2 Daniel M. Joy

Chapter 3 Darrell L. Gibson

Chapter 4 Alfred A. Karam

Chapter 5 The 1/8 Comes Together

PART 2

LEBANON, HELLHOLE OF THE MIDDLE EAST

Chapter 6 The Syrian Factor

Chapter 7 The Religion Factors

Chapter 8 The Civil War

PART 3

KEEPING THE PEACE

Chapter 9 Hell’s Gates are in Sight! Are We Ready?

Chapter 10 From Ship to Shore

Chapter 11 Every Clime and Place

Chapter 12 Bunker Building

Chapter 13 The War Heats up

Chapter 14 September at the Ambassador’s Residence

Chapter 15 September at the BLT Headquarters

Chapter 16 Satan’s Servants

Chapter 17 Hot as Hell

Chapter18 Ascari’s Final Briefing

Chapter19 October 22, Cooling Off?

Chapter 20 The Inferno

Chapter 21 Smoke Begins Clearing

Chapter 22 Going Home

Author’s Closing Thought

Epilogue

Officers

Deaths

Note From LtCol Gerlach

Acknowledgements

Author

Treasure the people you meet along the way, especially the so-called

regular people, the people who are neither famous nor wealthy.

Because the fact is, there is nothing regular about them. There

is always—always—something special about them.

They go about quietly and do good; they serve their fellow

humans clinging to this Earth, this piece of star dust,

hanging in an obscure corner of a vast universe.

They do it because their hearts are good.

Howard Wilkinson

Howard Wilkinson, 91.7 WVXU Senior Political Analyst in https://www.wvxu.org/

post/gentle-nun-who-rocked-babies-and-taught-marines-how-fight#stream/0

PREFACE

In his book, Call Sign Chaos, General Jim Mattis describes the recruiting challenges that existed when he, as a major, assumed command of a Marine Corps recruiting station in the 1980s. With the military draft nonexistent, the Vietnam War in the rearview mirror, and civilian jobs plentiful in a healthy economy, recruiting young men into the Marine Corps was a challenge. However, Mattis, from his mid-1960s hitchhiking days, knew that there were high-spirited, cocky, and often rebellious young men who would find the Marine Corps appealing and would make fine Marines. He and other recruiters focused on finding such young men. Devil’s Den is a story about a group of Marines and sailors from the 1st Battalion, 8th Marines (1/8), sent to the Middle East to assume a peacekeeping mission they hadn’t prepared for and didn’t understand. They were sent by a reluctant commander in chief who did not wish to get any of his Marines and sailors involved with Middle East intramurals.

The Middle East has been turbulent since recorded time. Looking at Lebanon, one can understand President Reagan’s reluctance to deploy his forces there. Lebanon’s sovereignty was created following World War I in 1926, when France was given responsibility by the League of Nations for restructuring the northern portion of the Ottoman Empire east of the Mediterranean. One of their first acts was to cut out a small piece of Syria and call it Greater Lebanon. Christians, the dominant populace in the new country, were placed in leadership positions of all government organizations in an unwritten agreement. Due to the demands of World War II, the French government left Lebanon in 1943.

In 1949, Lebanon’s younger and more aggressive neighbor on its southern border, Israel, ejected most Palestinians from its country. More than 100,000 Palestinians moved into refugee camps in Lebanon. On the heels of the Palestinian refugees, and for assorted reasons, other arriving Muslims tilted the population dominance in Lebanon clearly to the Muslim side of the scale. Conflicts between the Christians and the Muslims bubbled.

What followed in 1975 was the start of a fifteen-year civil war in Lebanon between contentious Muslim groups and Christian militias. In an attempt to calm some of the destabilizing activities, a four-country multinational force, consisting of the United States, Italy, France, and the United Kingdom, was introduced by the United Nations in August 1982 to oversee evacuation of Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) soldiers. As part of the Lebanese-Israeli agreement, once the PLO was gone, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) would withdraw from Lebanon as well.

With the PLO and Israelis gone and with the National Assembly electing the strong Christian warlord, Bachir Gemayel, as president, world leaders hoped that peace and stability could be achieved. That hope was dashed one month later. President-elect Gemayel was assassinated. Believing that the assassination was accomplished by a PLO element not evacuated, Israeli forces surrounded two southern Beirut refugee camps, Sabra and Shatila, allowing Gemayel’s former militia to enter and slaughter over 2,000 remaining Palestinians, including women and children. Seven months later, in April 1983, the US Embassy in Beirut was blown up by an Islamic fundamentalist. Sixty-one employees were killed and more than one hundred were wounded.

Precisely at this time, the 1st Battalion, 8th Marines and their attachments were completing their warfare training and saying their goodbyes to friends and loved ones. Were the Marines and sailors ready for what was in store for them?

Devil’s Den holds the answer.

THE BLAST

Near midnight on October 22, 1983, most Marine peacekeepers deployed in and around Beirut’s international airport were wholly unaware of the horrid calamity that would occur the next morning. They could not conceive that a disturbed Iranian national, Ismail Ascari, was anxiously waiting to be taken from a safe house to his Dodge stake bed truck parked along Airport Road. There he would wait for another red Dodge stake bed truck, painted exactly like his.

With water to be delivered to the Marines, the second truck would be ambushed nearby, allowing him to drive his water truck without suspicion into the lower level of the large Marine barracks. Once inside the barracks, Ascari would blow up the canisters, the truck, and himself—for Allah. The building was occupied by hundreds of US Marines. Most would be asleep. Only by sacrificing himself on behalf of his people and his religion, he believed, would he receive eternal peace.

MEANWHILE, INSIDE THE BARRACKS

At 11:30 p.m., the battery-powered flashlight barely illuminated the two men sitting on the edge of their green canvas cots in the eight-man, second-floor sleeping quarters of the four-story building. The supply team leader, Corporal David Lewis, sensed that Lance Corporal Manny Simmons was bothered enough to get something off his mind. Four other supply Marines were lying on their cots trying to get to sleep. Two team members were outside, manning the guard posts in front of the building until morning.

Lew-Lew, Simmons said quietly to his good friend, Corporal Lewis, Weird day today. I mean, it was the weirdest!

Before Lewis could respond, Lance Corporal Warner Gibbs injected, It was, but the MEGA band was pretty darn good.

Lewis, quiet for a few seconds, simply agreed. Yeah, Manny, it was weird. Those AK-47 rounds fired at Alpha Company about nineteen hundred hours put us in Condition Code Two.

What was so spooky to me was there were none of those weird ‘call for prayer’ chants, Simmons said to emphasize his main point. Every night since we got here in May we’ve heard them. And then there were the two rocket-propelled grenades they fired. Were they fired at Alpha or Bravo?

S’matter? Gibbs mumbled, half asleep.

Alpha, Lewis defined.

USO show at thirteen hundred: all is well, Simmons said. No chanting at eighteen hundred: first time that happened since we arrived five months ago. AKs firing and Condition Code Two at nineteen hundred: grab our rifles, put on helmets and flak jackets. Mortars and RPGs launched and Condition Code One at twenty-one hundred: go to our fighting positions. And then we’re back to Condition Code Two at twenty-three hundred hours. Alpha’s out there getting the crap beat out of them, and here we are on our cots not able to help. Weird day. That’s all I will say.

Simmons, the men from Alpha are tough. Just like you. Danny Joy and Doc Gibson are good examples. They’re tough. I mean…they’ve been through this kinda shit all their lives. You were a boxer. Joy was a wrestler and a ship welder before he came in. And Doc Gibson was a tough sonofabitch sergeant in the Corps before he became a Navy corpsman. Lewis looked at Simmons then offered a positive note. Manny, lighten up. We have our Sunday routine tomorrow. Basketball and cookout. Back to normal. Besides, our roommates, Hastings and DiFranco, are out on the guard posts. We got all that going for us. And listen to Gibbs, Thompson, Custer, and Cook snoring. Let’s get some sleep.

PART 1

"Lord, Where Do We

Find Such Men?"

General P.X. Kelley, 28th Commandant of the Marine

Corps, recounting what he had witnessed

CHAPTER 1

Emanuel M. Simmons

Brooklyn ain’t near as neat as Harlem.

MANNY SIMMONS COMING HOME FROM SCHOOL

September 3, 1968, was the first day of school. It ended at three o’clock, and the Simmons kids were walking to their home in the Polo Grounds Towers. The Towers was the beautiful new apartment complex managed by the New York Housing Authority. It opened in 1964 after the professional sports complex for the Mets and Jets—the Polo Grounds— was demolished.

image%201.jpg

Polo Grounds Towers, courtesy of Manny Simmons

The feisty, slightly built third-grader, Manny Simmons, was walking with his new friend on 8th Avenue going toward their 155th Street home. His sister Gale, who was two years older, and his sister Claudia, one year older, were walking in front, talking about their teachers and the other girls in their classes.

Gale, Manny said to his older sister, I’m glad we moved here to Harlem. Brooklyn ain’t near as neat as it is here. Then looking to his right at his new best buddy, Troy Oliver, he said, I got me a good friend who lives really close. Right, Troy?

Yeah, Manny, the kid from the 28th floor said. And you only live four floors below me.

Gale, Ms. Harrington said she’ll collect our photos for the bulletin board tomorrow, Manny said, pulling his photo his out of his shirt pocket and showing it to his new friend.

image%202.jpg

Emanuel Manny Simmons, courtesy of Manny Simmons

Well, Emanuel, better give it to me so you don’t lose it, Gale said. I’ll give it back on the way to school tomorrow.

Here. Manny handed Gale the photo. After we get home, if mom ain’t there, Troy and me, we’re going on out to play.

Mom doesn’t get home from work at Saks until six. Did she give you any chores? Gale challenged.

No, she didn’t. Manny said in a mocking nyah-nyah-nyah tone while shaking his head and smiling at Troy.

The older fifth grader spun around and looked at her brother with a stern eye. She surmised that the smart-alecky response must have been something he picked up from a TV show. It was new. Now listen here, young man, Gale used her mom’s intonation and waved her finger at Manny.

Knowing he was wrong, Manny gave a quick, Sorry, Gale, instantly ending the incident. No, I only have to be back inside by five thirty, and Troy has a watch. Turning to his friend, he said, Troy, you wanna play baseball with the guys in the park? The park was Holcombe Rucker Park with its many sports and athletic facilities.

Manny, I ain’t as good as you in baseball, Troy said. And I don’t like them other kids much either. They think they’re such big deals.

Hey, Troy, don’t worry. I ain’t gonna let them other kids get you. We can go rock climbing instead.

GLEASON’S GYM, 1979

Manny had been boxing since 1974 at Knight’s Boxing on 125th Street, under the direction of the owner and coach, Connie Bryant. Although a hothead by nature, Manny’s in the ring discipline had come a long way from his first sparring session against a fairly experienced boxer, Howard Cooper. Sometime in the first minute or two after Manny had been showered with rapid, skillfully thrown punches landing in his face, he had exploded. He threw Cooper to the ring floor, jumped on his surprised opponent’s chest, and unmercifully whaled away at the young man’s head in the manner of his weekly fights in the streets.

Since then Manny had become an excellent young boxer and a Golden Gloves contender. Manny had sparred occasionally with trainer Richard Big Pitt Pittman’s twin sons at Knight’s for the past couple of years. Big Pitt knew his sons didn’t have the conviction boxers needed to go on. But he saw real promise in Manny and invited him to go with him to Gleason’s Gym in search of a manager for this eighteen-year-old protégé who liked to box. Gleason’s was a feeder gym for nearby Madison Square Garden.

On May 6, 1979, the two went to Gleason’s by subway to see if Manny could possibly be good enough to turn professional.

The young boxer confessed to Big Pitt in the subway car, Hey, boxing keeps me off the street and out of trouble. After getting off the subway and taking the escalator up to Penn Plaza, Manny added, No matter what happens today, Mr. Pittman, I am still going into the service and joining my buddies Troy, Dennis, and Michael.

Leaving Union Station, Manny saw the entrance to Madison Square Garden across the street. He smiled and thought, Someday.

The two walked a couple of blocks to their destination: Gleason’s Gym.

image%203.jpg

Before entering, Big Pitt looked down at Manny. Now you keep your mouth closed. I’ll do all the talking.

Looking Big Pitt in the eye, Manny didn’t flinch. All right.

Pittman opened the door and went straight to the front desk. Would you tell Mike Jones that Richard Pittman is here?

Manny could hear comments being made from below the railing. He walked over and saw young men about his age, in workout clothes, sharing a laugh.

image%204.jpg

Courtesy of Manny Simmons

He thought to himself, This might work.

He turned back and rejoined Mr. Pittman. In a minute, the five foot nine, white-haired Mike Jones emerged from an office behind the front desk. With a hearty welcome, he said, Big Pitt! So good to see you again.

Good seeing you too, Mike.

Looking at Manny, Jones asked, So, how long you been boxing, kid?

Couple, maybe three years. Pitman interjected.

Jones frowned, annoyed. Kid? he said, still looking to hear something from Manny.

Manny looked at Pittman, who gave him a green light to speak, gesturing with his right hand. Well, tell ’im.

I boxed for two years at Knight’s Boxing Club. Before then, it was fights out on the streets.

How’d you do at Knight’s?

Pretty good. Forty-four and two.

What weight?

One thirty-five, mostly.

You an orphan?

No. My mom and dad come to my fights. Well…my mom came to one of them. Golden Gloves preliminaries. I lost on a decision.

You want to turn pro, kid?

Yeah, well, that’s why we’re here. I want to fight in the Gardens, Mr. Jones.

You think you got it in you, do you?

Yes, sir.

Gotta photo?

Not with me, sir.

How about a boxing handle? Jones stared at the eighteen-year-old.

Well, at school they call me ‘Crazy.’

What’s that all about? Jones asked

Boxing. I box after school every day. My buddies don’t. They just think I’m crazy.

How you gonna get here after school? Just like today?

Subway.

You can afford that?

Well, my mom and dad can. Looking up to Pittman, Manny added, My trainer said he’d help with some expenses.

Pittman nodded and smiled, appreciating Manny giving him recognition as his trainer.

All right. You come Monday after school and be ready to spar a little. You’re gonna stay.

Yes, sir. See you Monday.

Jones added, Oh yeah, be ready to have a photo taken when you get here.

image%205.jpg

Manny Simms (new boxing handle) gets ready for

the pros, courtesy of Manny Simmons

MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, MAY 1979

The white-haired announcer, holding a six-inch microphone in his right hand against his chin and clutching a rolled-up paper in his left, began his Friday night chant.

Welll-come to Madison Square Garden on this beeee-u-ti-ful night when it’s time to rummm-ble. For our first fight of the night … from the red corner and in the light-colored trunks … weighing one hundred forty pounds and hailing from New York City … fighting his first professional fight, Mannn-eee-Simms.

The few spectators for this early round—all young women who worked at Saks 5th Avenue with Manny’s mother and who received free tickets from the young fighter—yelled a chorus of Yeah, and Go, Manny!

"In the blue corner … also hailing from New York City and weighing in at one hundred forty-six pounds, with six wins and two defeats … and no stranger to the Garden, Pow-er-ful-Peeet-Pah-deee-ah.

Manny lost his first fight against Padilla by decision. His manager, Mike Jones, accepted the loss as nothing unusual and immediately knew what the kid had to work on the next week. Manny and Jones had signed a three-year contract just before his fight with Padilla. It wouldn’t be completed until May 1982.

Fights took place every three months. Three were in Madison Square Garden. Manny’s sixth, in November 1980, took place at the Playboy Club in New Jersey. Manny didn’t feel up to par during the fight. Every time he jabbed with his left hand, the left side of his rib cage hurt. While a tough kid like Manny would never whimper, he told his trainer after the loss that his ribs hurt every time he jabbed.

Hey, Manny, it’s just a bruise. Part of the game! Jones said. You’ll be better in a coupla weeks. Nevertheless, I want you and Big Pitt to go to the Giants’ therapy clinic on Monday. Use my membership, and they’ll figure out what you need.

The football team’s trainers x-rayed Manny and confirmed that a crack existed in the ninth rib. Jones lightened Manny’s training schedule and allowed him to spar in a body pad for several weeks before getting ready for his seventh fight.

Finally ready, Manny entered the Madison Square Garden ring with a record of three wins and three losses. He was knocked down early in the first round. His now larger fan club—holders of complimentary tickets Manny distributed—nervously waited for the second round. Their concern that the rib injury hadn’t healed was for naught. Manny knocked his opponent out in the second round. That would be his last fight in the Garden. Manny didn’t regard himself as a possible world champion.

Manny’s patriotism—and learning of the military successes of Manny’s high school buddies—was enough for Mike Jones to release him from his contract four months early, in February 1982.

IN THE CORPS

Manny’s parents expressed concern about his desire to join the Marine Corps because of his hot temper and the fact that his buddies were successful in other branches of the service. Nevertheless, Manny belted for the Corps in February 1982, explaining his rationale to anyone who would listen.

The toughest guys are Marines. They’re crazy!

Obviously older, tougher, and in vastly better physical condition than his fellow Parris Island recruits, Simmons quickly became a favorite of his drill instructors. And they loved his photo collection.

image%206.jpg

Courtesy of Manny Simmons

image%207.jpg

Courtesy of Manny Simmons

Simmons, suppose you want to get out after your first hitch? If you do and you have any interest in not getting physically injured—which could hurt your boxing career—sign up for supply, not infantry, they counseled him,

Before graduation Manny did precisely that.

In twelve weeks, Simmons graduated with distinction from boot camp, receiving a meritorious promotion to the rank of private first class. As first squad leader and guidon bearer, Simmons was honored to stand in front of the unit alongside his drill instructor. His mom and dad, Maggie and Brian Simmons were in attendance —as well as the many family members from nearby Conway and Moncks Corner, South Carolina—and expected nothing less of their