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Outside Magazine October 2001
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Why Are We in Vieques? (Cont.)

EDDIE OLMOS DID THE smartest thing. After we split up, he found a hillside, sat down, and acted like he had no intention of hiding. He was tired anyway. I'd phoned to ask him to join us only four days earlier, but it turned out he was in Argentina. "I was calling to invite you to get arrested in Vieques this weekend, but you're off the hook," I said. But Eddie insisted on coming. When he got to San Juan, he'd had only three hours' sleep in the past 36.

After a time, the helicopter crew became convinced he wasn't going anywhere and went hunting for us. Eddie used the opportunity to strip off his white T-shirt and scurry to a hiding place, where he quickly fell asleep, confounding the search parties for the next five hours.

I hid under a demolished half-track. With time on my hands, I began to worry that I might take a direct hit if the bombing resumed. As I considered this possibility, I noticed daylight gleaming through the clean, telltale holes made by depleted-uranium bullets. I decided to hunt for a less radioactive hiding place.

With the helicopter shadowing me, I hiked toward the southeast, found a few acres of brush crowding a mangrove swamp, crawled into the thicket, squeezed under a mangrove root, and covered myself with branches and twigs. For two hours the helicopter hovered above me, trying to flush me out. Then I heard soldiers calling my name: "Mr. Kennedy!" I could hear them cursing the thorns; some of them passed just a few feet away. Finally, one spotted me and blew a high-pitched whistle. I came out. A Navy policeman, Petty Officer Larry Roberts, handcuffed me with zip-tie Flex-Cufs and walked me through the swamp to a military road.

I found Dennis handcuffed and squatting in the hot sun behind a camouflaged deuce-and-a-half. The Navy police were tired and thirsty. They asked us if we knew where the last guy—Eddie—was and we answered, honestly, that we did not.

One MP asked how we got into the impact zone. "We came on a fishing boat," I answered. Another sailor asked if we were from the big island (Puerto Rico). "No, we're from New York," I replied.

A brawny MP from Louisiana said, "Did you take dat fishing boat all the way from New Yawk?" I told him no, we'd flown in the night before. "You flew all the way from New Yawk to hide in dem sticker bushes?" he asked incredulously.

"The guy you're looking for flew all the way from Argentina—20 hours—to hide in the bushes," I said.

"Who is dat fool?" the Louisiana sailor asked.

"It's Edward James Olmos," I said. "The actor from Miami Vice." The show airs three times a day in Puerto Rico.

"Dat's who dat is?" the sailor said. "Well, I'm going to look for him. I want to get his autograph and ask him about dat Viper." He shouldered his backpack. "I'm going to ask him, 'Do dat car really go dat fast?'" Then he shouted to another sailor: "He's got mo' money den all of us and he's crawling around in dem sticker bushes."

At that point, a K9 truck pulled up. All the MPs commented on how mean the dog was: "Dat's no dog—dat's a laughing hyena." The dog did look like a hyena—short tail and stumpy, splayed hind legs, tawny skin with black spots, and a giant mouth with prominent black lips. The dog couldn't find Eddie, and a recon group took up the search.

We climbed awkwardly into the truck with our cuffs on and were driven to the observation post where David Sanes had been killed. We cooled our heels there for the next couple of hours. Disposable cameras materialized and each of the soldiers had his photo taken with us in our cuffs. It was an odd feeling: These weren't fans snapping a shot with a Kennedy; these were hunters posing with their trophies. I smiled for the camera.

We heard a voice on the walkie-talkie, an officer who identified himself as Rear Admiral Kevin P. Green, Commander of the U.S. Naval Forces Southern Command. Green instructed his men to treat us like they would any other prisoners.

Dennis told me he likes Admiral Green. "He's a really good guy," he said. Two weeks before, Dennis and New York Governor George Pataki had toured Vieques by helicopter with the admiral, and had visited the observation post where we were now being held. He said Admiral Green made a good case for the Navy—that there is no other locale where it can simulate all the components of the classic amphibious assault:
air-to-shore and ship-to-shore bombardments, combined with marine attacks over the beach. On the tour, Admiral Green had forcefully
promoted this view.

"We agreed to disagree," Dennis said.



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