MY missions were often set by HHC (Headquarters/Headquarters Command) back in Panama at winning the hearts & minds of the indigenous peoples through providing on site medical care & health/hygiene education. This often required me being set in within a particular area at a site known to be sympathetic - usually due to previous contact with one of our teams or a "company" operative.
Once getting to be known and "trusted" (a rather variable and fickle term, believe me) by local leaders I'd then get one or two trusted guides to take me to surrounding tribes to provide aid and assistance to more people as time and supplies allowed. These aid missions proved highly productive in acquiring intelligence on the movements and activities of the drug cartels and guerillas.
Many of these tribes had suffered greatly at the hands of these animals. Villages were often burned, women stolen and raped then kept to work as slaves in the guerilla camps or processing raw cocaine in field factories. Their boys were dragged off at 8-12 years old to "serve" in rebel guerilla forces while anyone older was either killed out of hand or made slaves in the drug trade. This was true not only in Colombia, but El Salvador, Nicuargua, Peru and Bolivia as well.
These natives could NEVER expect help from their governments and had no hope whatsoever except when we were around. Christian missionaries, those not killed outright by communist rebels, had long left the areas we were in.
My main mission was to establish trust in our intent to help them. I did all I could to warrant that trust, even if I couldn't trust my own support system (CIA) to follow through with THEIR implied promises. The military forces were always sincere, the civilians giving the ultimate orders, I fear, were...at best...only "fair weather" friends...even to us. Luckily, they were basically trusting and simple people who continued to just individuals rather than groups, which usually stood me in good favor with them. They also liked to be taught things...ANYTHING...and I loved to talk and teach and I was VERY good at waving my arms, gyrating and making faces or drawing pictures to communicate a concept. This was, at the very least, a vast source of entertainment for most tribes...especially my classes on personal hygiene! I'll let your imagination run rampant here...
The worst thing that usually happened to us (boots on the ground) was to have some bozo show up in this Foster Grants to tell us to move out cold and abandon what we were doing. Other than our teams moving through, I rarely saw anyone in uniform and rarely wore my BDU's (Battle Dress Uniform) unless I was going into the bush. Little lesson here...synthetics and denim SUCK in the rain forest!
Things did not always go well, I'd been ambushed twice, mortared repeatedly, and sniped at so many time I even stopped writing about it in my journals.
When I was in the highlands I had to hump up and down everywhere and never went anywhere out of a village alone. But along the river I got comfortable and would often take a day trip to another village or string of villages to follow up on some of my patients or establish deeper contacts after trust had been gained.
My dugout canoe was like a country doc on his bicycle. It was small, easy to use (once I got the hang of it) and made me a very small target if I had to get off the river or move out of sight. I did only did this maybe a dozen times and only when I felt "comfortable" with being on my own. In the bush, though, I always kept a guide. Too easy to get lost or hurt. Either would get you dead.
It wasn't unusual to go several weeks and even a couple of months without outside contact other than radio checks. It was such times that I went a bit "native"...no shirt, no shoes, no shaving, no sh*t!
The only thing I remember the various native having any negative comments about where that my nose stuck out too far and that I smelled funny...so I was never allowed to go hunting except with the tiny boys (6-10 years old) with their bird/monkey hunting bows & arrows. Mostly they shot frogs.
I was a BIG hit with a large group of kids once when my sister sent me a package full of hard plastic sling shots for them and a high tension wrist rocket for me on my 24th birthday (my Bday was in OCT, I finally got the package on Groundhog Day). After I stopped imbedding rocks into the thumb knuckle of my holding hand (ewwww GOSH! that would all but break the bone - it still makes my knees ache to remember that) I was able to actually take down a couple of monkeys. THAT made me a hunter, which meant a lot in their culture.
The only thing you had to REALLY REALLY be careful about in the rain forest was that even the slightest skin opening...even a hangnail...could quickly lead to a dibilitating infection. Skin fungus was also a hassle. I once got "crotch rot" so bad I had to be evac'ed back to Howard AFB in Panama for 90 days to be treated for a scrotal sac that had grown to the size of a small volleyball! Unfortunately, after the intitial IV treatments the nurses demanded put on the ointments WITHOUT their involvment. I could even get them to make a visual quality performance check. Just no pride in their job, I suppose.
Well, this got a little long. Sorry. Hope it helped answer some of your questions, though.
Once getting to be known and "trusted" (a rather variable and fickle term, believe me) by local leaders I'd then get one or two trusted guides to take me to surrounding tribes to provide aid and assistance to more people as time and supplies allowed. These aid missions proved highly productive in acquiring intelligence on the movements and activities of the drug cartels and guerillas.
Many of these tribes had suffered greatly at the hands of these animals. Villages were often burned, women stolen and raped then kept to work as slaves in the guerilla camps or processing raw cocaine in field factories. Their boys were dragged off at 8-12 years old to "serve" in rebel guerilla forces while anyone older was either killed out of hand or made slaves in the drug trade. This was true not only in Colombia, but El Salvador, Nicuargua, Peru and Bolivia as well.
These natives could NEVER expect help from their governments and had no hope whatsoever except when we were around. Christian missionaries, those not killed outright by communist rebels, had long left the areas we were in.
My main mission was to establish trust in our intent to help them. I did all I could to warrant that trust, even if I couldn't trust my own support system (CIA) to follow through with THEIR implied promises. The military forces were always sincere, the civilians giving the ultimate orders, I fear, were...at best...only "fair weather" friends...even to us. Luckily, they were basically trusting and simple people who continued to just individuals rather than groups, which usually stood me in good favor with them. They also liked to be taught things...ANYTHING...and I loved to talk and teach and I was VERY good at waving my arms, gyrating and making faces or drawing pictures to communicate a concept. This was, at the very least, a vast source of entertainment for most tribes...especially my classes on personal hygiene! I'll let your imagination run rampant here...
The worst thing that usually happened to us (boots on the ground) was to have some bozo show up in this Foster Grants to tell us to move out cold and abandon what we were doing. Other than our teams moving through, I rarely saw anyone in uniform and rarely wore my BDU's (Battle Dress Uniform) unless I was going into the bush. Little lesson here...synthetics and denim SUCK in the rain forest!
Things did not always go well, I'd been ambushed twice, mortared repeatedly, and sniped at so many time I even stopped writing about it in my journals.
When I was in the highlands I had to hump up and down everywhere and never went anywhere out of a village alone. But along the river I got comfortable and would often take a day trip to another village or string of villages to follow up on some of my patients or establish deeper contacts after trust had been gained.
My dugout canoe was like a country doc on his bicycle. It was small, easy to use (once I got the hang of it) and made me a very small target if I had to get off the river or move out of sight. I did only did this maybe a dozen times and only when I felt "comfortable" with being on my own. In the bush, though, I always kept a guide. Too easy to get lost or hurt. Either would get you dead.
It wasn't unusual to go several weeks and even a couple of months without outside contact other than radio checks. It was such times that I went a bit "native"...no shirt, no shoes, no shaving, no sh*t!
The only thing I remember the various native having any negative comments about where that my nose stuck out too far and that I smelled funny...so I was never allowed to go hunting except with the tiny boys (6-10 years old) with their bird/monkey hunting bows & arrows. Mostly they shot frogs.
I was a BIG hit with a large group of kids once when my sister sent me a package full of hard plastic sling shots for them and a high tension wrist rocket for me on my 24th birthday (my Bday was in OCT, I finally got the package on Groundhog Day). After I stopped imbedding rocks into the thumb knuckle of my holding hand (ewwww GOSH! that would all but break the bone - it still makes my knees ache to remember that) I was able to actually take down a couple of monkeys. THAT made me a hunter, which meant a lot in their culture.
The only thing you had to REALLY REALLY be careful about in the rain forest was that even the slightest skin opening...even a hangnail...could quickly lead to a dibilitating infection. Skin fungus was also a hassle. I once got "crotch rot" so bad I had to be evac'ed back to Howard AFB in Panama for 90 days to be treated for a scrotal sac that had grown to the size of a small volleyball! Unfortunately, after the intitial IV treatments the nurses demanded put on the ointments WITHOUT their involvment. I could even get them to make a visual quality performance check. Just no pride in their job, I suppose.
Well, this got a little long. Sorry. Hope it helped answer some of your questions, though.
Please tell us more about you adventures! It is really intersting to me and all I can say is it renews my faith that there are still people out there like you!