CIA PARAMILITARY TRAINING 79before, but having spent my youth hunting quail, I hit every clay pigeon
during trap and skeet drills with a well-worn twelve-gauge shotgun.
Although we didn’t get to set one off, we learned about the uncon-
ventional “claymore on a stick,” invented and first deployed along the Ho
Chi Minh Trail, by our unforgettable SOTC instructor “Nate.” The M18
claymore mine was designed to function as a directional mine on or close
to the ground, but Nate would attach it to a bamboo stick so that it would
rain down shrapnel on the unsuspecting enemy. A weapons instructor,
Nate would repeat the same warning tailored to each exercise in his slow,
Southern drawl: “If your claymore on a stick is pointed the wrong way, it’ll
likely ruin your whole day.”
We also received black cache training. During the Cold War, the CIA
would bury hidden (black) caches of money and weapons in the woods in
Soviet bloc countries, to be dug up by our agents when signaled to do so.
At the Farm we learned how to prepare the caches and the maps, which
the agents would use at some future date. We also played the role of the
agent so that we’d understand how critical it is to prepare an accurate and
detailed map. Instructors gave us maps prepared by CTs several years in
the past, and we headed out into the woods at some remote spot on the
Farm at night and attempted to retrieve them.
Locating what we believed was the black cache site, my partner and
I dug down at the designated spot until we hit metal. Holding red lens
flashlights, we pulled out an old ammo can and struggled to pry open the
lid. When we finally did, it made a loud whoosh sound, as though we were
opening up a giant can of tennis balls. Much to our chagrin, the black
cache contained a decomposed skunk, which our fun-loving predecessors
had buried about five years previously. I don’t fully understand the chem-
istry, but the can became vacuum sealed over time. The overpowering
rotting skunk odor, which instantly blasted out of the can, was indescrib-
able and clung to us and our vehicle for days. (Another team dug up a more
civilized buried deer’s head.) I am not at liberty to reveal what my partner
and I buried in our cache, since I don’t want any of my former colleagues
tracking me down now for belated payback.
Preparing and dropping resupply bundles onto a designated drop zone
while hanging out of a low-flying short takeoff and landing Twin Otter
plane was especially fun and challenging. The Twin Otter is a popular