The Tribune

IT was the dark of night Tuesday, March 12, as US Congressman Cory Mills, his Special Forces security aide, and two South Florida pilots laid their lives on the line to rescue ten Americans hiding in a safe house in Haiti.

Hours before, scenes showing out of control violence in the capital city of Port-au-Prince captivated audiences around the world. Shockwaves followed video after video. A city that had once been the jewel of the Caribbean was now held hostage by gangs. Street warfare, machine guns randomly fired in air, fires, looting, a leaderless country whose debunked prime minister could not re-enter even to resign was at war with its own people, and anyone else unlucky enough to be there. Airports and ports closed, locked down, sealed against the terror of total anarchy.

That was the scene the four men who made up the rescue team knew they would face. They didn’t have to jump on a chopper, they didn’t have to swoop down in the middle of the night to rescue the stranded Americans who had gone to Haiti to help, but they did. Here is the story of that rescue, told to me the morning after by the chief pilot, Anthony “Tony” Marinello, who flies search and rescue and medical airlift between The Bahamas and South Florida hospitals.

The night began with a phone call from Congressman Cory Mills’ office.

“The man on the phone told me who he was and asked if I would do it, perform the rescue,” said Marinello. That was 7.30pm. Marinello got the details of the operation. A short while later, the Florida congressman who represents the 7th District, Cory Mills, called, confirming it was a go. Marinello called another pilot, Benny Matos, a neighbour and friend as well as trusted airman. Both men who now live in Ft Lauderdale had served on the New Jersey State Police Force at various times.

While the congressman was arranging a jet to scoot from New Smyrna Beach to Ft Lauderdale to hook up with the helicopter, Marinello was getting the Sikorsky s-76B search and rescue aircraft ready. Getting to Haiti would be kinder on the fuel than returning with a full load, at first thought to be six people, including Detroit Free Press columnist and well-known author (Tuesdays with Morrie, The Seven People You Meet in Heaven) Mitch Albom who was making his monthly visit to an orphanage he supports.

“As soon as the congressman landed, he introduced himself, his security Special Forces member checked our passports, and we tossed our knapsacks on the helicopter and were off.” Not knowing what would happen, Marinello carried paperwork, phone charger, a single change of clothes. Cory Mills had done this before, Marinello tells me, in Afghanistan and Israel. This time, he was acting on behalf of a congresswoman in Michigan contacted by the stranded well-meaning Americans, most of whom were from Michigan, now part of a nightmare in a gang-infested, civil war-torn Haiti, scared for their lives, hiding.

At roughly 10.30 that night, the chopper took off. Two challenges lie ahead. Finding the backyard of a house in the dark in a city on fire and getting the people waiting out safely.

“You are trying to find a house in the dark in a country you have never been to and you have three minutes to do it. We sent them a message, when you hear the helicopter coming, I want you to blink all the lights in the house on and off three times, on and off, on and off. We got near, it was amazing, saw the lights, turned the helicopter around, landed. The congressman exited the aircraft and suddenly he wasn’t a politician, he was Special Forces, running, gathering everyone and piling them on the helicopter.

“We swooped down, landed and were gone in less than a minute. It was like having a front row seat to a movie.”

Except for Marinello, he wasn’t watching the movie. He was in it.

On the ground, every second was vital. Decisions had to be made lightning fast. The original plan was to pick up six people, qet them safely across the border to the Dominican Republic and make a second run for the rest. Marinello knew the noise of the twin engines blew any cover the darkness provided. There would be no second chance. He and Mills nodded at each other and the congressman-turned-solider saviour scrambled all ten people in the yard, now hunching, running, dodging the downdraft, escaping with their lives in the daring mission.

The chopper was loaded, at the top limit of its weight capacity carefully calculated in the flash of an instant by the pilot.

“I fully expected to be shot at, there was gunfire everywhere, there’s no law and order, the prime minister resigned 20 minutes after we arrived.

“I knew we would take them by surprise, no one knew we were coming except the people in the house we were going to. In the air, we had the element of surprise, flying in under the darkness, but once on the ground we were fully vulnerable.”

As fast as it landed, the chopper lifted straight up.

“We were just noise and then we were gone.”

But now with 14 people onboard, the trip back would be far more challenging. Marinello and team landed in five countries, Dominican Republic, where evacuees and the congressman landed, Turks & Caicos, then putting down at Stella Maris in Long Island, Bahamas, fearful they did not have enough fuel to make it to Nassau. With every landing, pilots and others were greeted by Police, Customs, Immigration, Air Traffic Control. Finally, Nassau and back to Ft Lauderdale.

“Everywhere, they laid out the red carpet,” said Marinello. He had no idea who was in the rescued group. One man introduced himself as Mitch. (Mitch Albom happens to be among this columnist’s three favourite authors and I’ve read every book he’s written, but that is beside the point). “To me, it wasn’t important to know who they were, it was more important to get them safe.”

For Marinello, a pilot with nearly 40 years’ experience, former New Jersey police sergeant, former mayor of a New Jersey city, the night rescue in a strange land of turmoil and terror was the “most intense moment” of his life.

“You think about fear briefly, but once you start the mission, your mind is working, there’s no time for fear. We know we have to get this done. These people are depending on us.”