On Wings of Eagles by Ken Follett Page A

thing superbly well: pick the right man, give him the resources, moti-
        vate him, then leave him alone to do the job.
        Now, as he approached Denver, he asked himself- who is the world's greatest
        rescuer?
    Then he thought of Bull Simons.
        A legend in the U.S. Army, Colonel Arthur D. "Bull" Simons had hit the
        headlines in November 1970 when he and a team of commandos raided the Son
        Tay prison camp, twentythree miles outside Hanoi, in an attempt to rescue
        American prisoners of war. Theraid had been a brave and well-organized
        operation, but the intelligence on which all the planning was based had
        been faulty: the prisoners had been moved, and were no longer at Son Tay.
        'Me raid was widely regarded as a fiasco, which in Perot's opinion was
        grossly unfair. He had been invited to meet the Son Tay Raiders, to boost
        their morale by telling
    56 Ken Folleu
     
    them that here was at least one American citizen who was grateful for their
    bravery. He had spent a day at Fort Bragg in North Carolina--and he had met
    Colonel Simons.
        Peering through his windshield, Perot could picture Simons against the
        cloud of falling snowflakes: a big man, just under six feet tall, with the
        shoulders of an ox. His white hair was cropped in a military crewcut, but
        his bushy eyebrows were still black. On either side of his big nose, two
        deep lines ran down to the comers of his mouth, giving him a permanently
        aggressive expression. He had a big head, big ears, a strong jaw, and the
        most powerful hands Perot had ever seen. The man looked as if he had been
        carved from a single block of granite.
        After spending a day with him, Perot thought: in a world of counterfeits,
        he is the genuine article.
        That day and in years to come Perot learned a lot about Simons. What
        impressed him most was the attitude of Simons's men toward their leader. He
        reminded Perot of Vince Lombardi, the legendary coach of the Green Bay
        Packers: he inspired in his men emotions ranging from fear through respect
        and admiration to love. He was an imposing figure and an aggressive com-
        mander-he cursed a lot, and would tell a soldier- "Do what I say or I'll
        cut your bloody head off!"--but that by itself could not account for Ins
        hold on the hearts of skeptical, battle-hardened commandos. Beneath the
        tough exterior there was a tough interior.
        Those who had served under him liked nothing better than to sit around
        telling Simons stories. Although he had a bull-like physique, his nickname
        came not from that but, according to legend, from a game played by Rangers
        called The Bull Pen. A pit would be dug, six feet deep, and one man would
        get into it. The object of the game was to find out how many men it took to
        throw the first man out of the pit. Simons thought the game was foolish,
        but was once needled into playing it. It took fifteen men to get him out,
        and several of them spent the night in the hospital with broken fingers and
        noses and severe bite wounds. After that he was called "Bull. -
        Perot learned later that almost everything in this story was exaggerated.
        Simons played the game more than once; it generally took four men to get
        him out; no one ever had any broken bones. Simons was simply the kind of
        man about whom legends are told. He earned the loyalty of his men not by
        displays of bravado but by his skill as a military commander. He was a
        meticulous, endlessly patient planner, he was cautious,--one of
        ON WINGS OF EAGLES 57
     
    his catchphrases was: "That's a risk we don't have to take"; and he took
    pride in bringing all his men back from a mission alive.
        In the Vietnam