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Authors: James R. McDonough

BOOK: Defense of Hill 781
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Always saw a BMP to his right front at 1,200 meters. He called to Kelso and shifted the gun in the general direction. “Got it,” the gunner called. He received the order to fire from Always and immediately opened up. The first round kicked into the dust short and to the left. The next four went through its armor forward of the midpoint of the vehicle. The BMP took a crazy veer to the right, crashed into an embankment, and came to a halt.

In the next instant a T-72 crashed a round at the battalion commander’s Bradley, barely missing it, the projectile passing by high and to the left by a few inches.

Always yelled to Spivey, “Back off! Get some smoke out.”

The driver reacted fast. In a flash he peeled back down into a nearby wadi, covering his move with smoke from diesel fuel splashed across the hot engine exhaust.

For a moment Always was disoriented. He ordered Spivey to poke the nose of the Bradley cautiously back up over the rise. Inch by inch the driver pulled the big vehicle up until the commander ordered it to halt.

The enemy was now closing to 1,000 meters and still coming on. Always was ignoring calls from all parties but Alpha and Delta. He estimated that they had each lost more than a third of their vehicles. He sent a warning order to Captain Carter to be prepared to orient to the north and pick up the incoming enemy.

Suddenly the enemy’s close air support came in and rocked the ground around Checkpoint 4. One of Echo Company’s antitank vehicles went up in flames, along with the communications vehicle behind the company XO. Now only one antitank system was covering the pass. Bravo Company had lost two vehicles and had a third damaged. Charlie lost a tank. The antiaircraft guns opened up, the gunners hampered by their chemical gear, filling the air with lead nonetheless. Bravo Company took a chance, lowered a ramp, and unhorsed its Stinger team. The air defense men struggled to pull their missile out of the crowded vehicle and get it into action, but by the time they had reacted the aircraft had pulled away. Given the lethality of the area they were in, its chemical contamination, and the movement of friendly vehicles every which way, they abandoned their effort and returned to the track.

The second enemy aircraft run, three minutes later, was more even. A Bradley and a tank from Alpha Company exploded, but two aircraft were hit, one crashing into the mountain behind the action, the second pulling away with a dark cloud of smoke trailing behind.

Always looked to the north. The first enemy battalion was now within 750 meters and coming on fast. Behind it in the distance came the second battalion. The colonel called to Bravo and Charlie to add their fires against the approaching enemy. At that instant the enemy spewed out columns of smoke from the lead vehicles, broke to the west, and swung wide behind the battalion, passing on to the south. A few more shots were exchanged, then he was gone. In the wake came the second battalion, attempting to conceal himself in the smoke of his brother element. Simultaneously, the enemy artillery intensified its fire. No more chemical rounds were being fired now; it was all high explosive.

The din in and around Checkpoint 4 was unnerving. Incoming and outgoing ordnance was raising dust everywhere. Burning diesel blackened the sky. Wounded men were crawling away from wrecked vehicles, seeking shelter form the artillery and the charging tanks and BMPs. Medics struggled in their gas masks to get help to the wounded. The artillery filled the air with shrieking whistles, punctuated by deafening explosions, competing with the clamor of the 105mm tank guns; the whooshing antitank missiles; and the heavy, machine-gun-like staccato of the 25mm Bradley guns.

In fifteen minutes it was over. The two attacking battalions had passed through to the south, approximately one company surviving from the first, slightly more than two from the second. They were now falling upon Always’ brigade, smashing into the retreating armor battalion and chasing down the rear of the direct support artillery battalion.

Lieutenant Colonel Always called brigade headquarters and reported that he had failed to stop the attacking enemy, although he still held Checkpoint 4. His commander, preoccupied with the fight that was breaking elsewhere in his sector, ordered Always to hold where he was and ensure that no further elements got by him. The last words were spoken abruptly, and Always felt
their sting. For the second day in a row he had failed to accomplish the essence of his mission. By letting the enemy companies slip by he had jeopardized the entire brigade. He set himself to preparing for yet another defense, not certain from which direction the enemy was liable to come. Any thought he had of sending out an element to try to save Rodriguez was stifled. For the next three hours he redistributed ammunition, evacuated his wounded, and improved defenses. He waited for an enemy that never came.

Lieutenant Rodriguez was having a bad day. The dash for defensible ground had met with only partial success. The casualties held up the movement, and eventually a trail party of five able-bodied men went to ground, doing their best to protect their wounded comrades. The lieutenant herded the remainder of his two platoons into a canyon and had them start digging in. For fifteen minutes he kept radio contact with his trail element; after that there was some firing and they went off the air.

By this time Rodriguez’s men had run out of water, their exertions giving rise to a maddening thirst. Several pints of sweat were oozing out of each man every hour, and as the sun rose in the sky it baked one and all unmercifully. The lieutenant set up his antitank weapons in pairs, layering them in depth up the mouth of the canyon. It was an hour before the first enemy tank came nosing in. One Dragon careened off erratically; the second found the enemy armor and blew into it, killing the commander and gunner. The enemy withdrew in a hurry, but only for a moment. As he deployed his infantry to work around the top of the canyon, he began to pepper Rodriguez and his men with mortars. In another hour and a half, small arms fire had pinned down the Americans. The mortar fire now was being accurately adjusted onto the small pockets of men waiting in defense.

Rodriguez turned to Sergeant First Class Peterson, his platoon
sergeant. “They’ll be coming back in here again pretty soon. We’ll give it a try, but I don’t think we can hold. If it gets untenable, take whomever you can and try to break out for CP4.”

There had been no contact with battalion on the radio for hours. Neither platoon leader nor platoon sergeant was certain the battalion even existed anymore, much less if it were waiting for them at CP 4. Trying to break out to the battalion, therefore, was a long shot, but it was probably the only chance. The infantrymen would have to exfiltrate by ones and twos. Any group bigger than that would be hunted down and slaughtered like so many jackrabbits. A man on foot in the desert was easy prey.

The tempo of small arms fire and artillery picked up as the tanks began inching their way back in. Two LAWs were fired with no effect other than to bring the tanks’ machine guns in on the infantrymen. The latter were torn apart instantly. A Dragon gunner moved to the awkward but prescribed sitting firing position. A mortar round caught him in the open before he could release, puncturing the missile container and rendering it useless. A second Dragon missed. A third and fourth hit a BMP and a tank, destroying the former and immobilizing the latter. The last four LAWs did no damage. With the infantrymen now out of antitank ammunition it was a duck shoot. With increasing boldness the enemy tracks rolled up and eliminated each pocket in turn. Rodriguez yelled the order to break contact and get out, then began firing his M16 wildly at the lead tank.

A machine gun round broke his arm at the elbow as he dropped his three remaining smoke grenades in an effort to cover his retreating men. Bleeding heavily he scooted to higher ground farther up the canyon. A second round chipped out his hip joint and careened through his buttocks. He crawled through the dust, coming to rest behind some rocks. He lay here for forty-five minutes, unfound by the enemy. At first his thoughts were preoccupied with the pain in his hip and an overwhelming need for
water, but later they drifted to serene memories of his childhood. He died shortly after he was taken prisoner.

Two hours later Sergeant First Class Peterson made it to Checkpoint 4 with two other infantrymen. He was brought to Lieutenant Colonel Always, where he gave his report. The colonel took it stoically, stifling his anguish at the loss of so many men to no end. He realized how foolish it had been to put them so far out beyond support. Later that afternoon four more men straggled in. That was all.

At about 1400, orders came for a night withdrawal. The brigade had been rolled back on the flank, and intelligence indicated that the enemy was continuing to build his strength to the northeast. The task force would clear the mine field in the pass and move some twenty-five kilometers to the northeast. The report of enemy in the pass was false. In fact no one would admit having made such a report, much to the chagrin of the air force liaison officer.

By midafternoon the battalion’s leaders were assembled for an after-action review. Lieutenant Colonel Drivon and his team were extremely thorough. The aviation commander, who joined the assembled meeting, turned a little red at some of the comments. So did the artillery commander. Always was slightly relieved to have company on the receiving end of the faultfinding, but he knew once again that the failures were mostly his. Later that night as he led his battalion through the dark into its new defensive position, he had a chance to review the lessons of the day:

Integrate all supporting elements with the actions of the ground maneuver force. Aviation must understand that orders are liable to change and that flexibility is a prerequisite for success. Artillery must never fail to be in position to
support the maneuver element, whether it be attacking, defending, or conducting retrograde operations.

All elements must remain in communication. Supporting units must shoulder the burden of keeping in constant touch with the supported element. When orders change and frequencies are switched, a thorough dissemination of the changes must be made. The maneuver commander must insist vigorously on an ironclad system of keeping abreast of a changing situation.

Never put infantrymen on the floor of the desert unsupported in a pitched fight against armored forces. They cannot sustain themselves for long; very quickly the balance will shift to the heavier force. Set up communications relays to keep them in contact with their parent headquarters. Toughness cannot compensate for poor planning and foolish decisions.

In the final analysis, gunnery is the decisive factor in armor battles. Fire control and marksmanship are twin pillars of victory in the close engagement. Practice gunnery under battlefield conditions; make it realistic by arranging for burning hulks, widespread smoke, dust, movement, and loud noises. Get used to firing while wearing gas masks. Bore sight main guns at every opportunity. Designate sectors and targets for each weapons system. Fire fast, and make every shot count.

Early warning of enemy air attack is imperative. It does no good to react to an air strike after it has already hit. By that time the enemy has dropped his ordnance and is gone.

Be ready for a chemical attack at any time. Be able to function under the most extreme conditions, but know when to come out of gas masks. The most well-trained units will suffer inefficiencies when encased in chemical gear. Don’t
stay in masks a minute more than is necessary, particularly when in a close engagement. But don’t uncover prematurely either.

Don’t believe every report passed to you in the midst of battle. Weigh every report against its plausibility. When in doubt orient on the enemy, with one wary eye for the unexpected. Concentrate firepower at the decisive point.

These and other thoughts were running through Always’ mind when he arrived at the release point and had to divert his attention to moving the task force into its defensive sector during the few hours before dawn.

CHAPTER 4
Defense in Sector

The battalion’s defensive sector was enormous. The front stretched almost 8,000 meters from northeast to southwest, tying in to mountain ranges on either flank but offering the enemy ample ground over which to approach. The center of the sector was a flat stretch of desert, split by one gigantic wadi that cut from the southwest toward the key terrain in the northern half of the battle area, Hill 910. Always’ orders established a no-pass line deep in the rear of his sector, almost thirteen kilometers behind the front. He could expect to be attacked by a motorized rifle regiment, probably within thirty hours of his occupation.

It was a difficult tactical problem. As open as the desert seemed, there were several options available to the enemy. The five combat companies at Always’ disposal seemed inadequate to cover the frontage and depth assigned to his unit. Deep in his rear, but still in front of the no-pass line, designated Phase Line STOP by Always, the ground broke up into countless deep ravines. Any one of them offered a major route through the depth of the sector. It would be impossible to cover all of them.

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