Team Yankee: a novel of World War III (33 page)

This was his moment. This was why he had joined the Army. "To hell with it," Garger thought.

"This is great! Too bad it can't last. "

A frantic and incomprehensible report on the radio was the first indication that the Soviet tank company commander had that his company was under attack. He glanced to his right in time to see a second tank in his company burst into flames. The enemy tanks! They're on our flank! As if on cue from the enemy threat to his right, the mechanized infantry company that had deployed along the road began to fire antitank guided missiles. He was trapped.

Without a second thought, the tank company commander ordered his tanks to turn left and cut on their smoke generators. They had been lucky, and

they had caused a great deal of damage. But the Americans were now gaining the upper hand. It was time to break off this attack and wait for the rest of the battalion before continuing.

Team Bravo was in position and firing before Team Yankee reached the gap and the point where they would turn. As soon as Sergeant Polgar reported that he was in place, Bannon ordered the tanks to execute an action right, form a line, and attack. Following 66's lead, the other tanks cut right and began to advance into the valley. Team Bravo's fire had been effective in forcing the Soviets to break off their attack and had thus relieved the pressure on D company. In a great cloud of smoke created by their smoke generators, the T-72 tanks that had survived disappeared to the south. Folk switched to the thermal sight and continued to track the Soviet tanks as they fled to the south. It was now a race. Would the Team be able to catch up to them in time to hit them? Right now, that didn't seem likely. Team Yankee's grand maneuver had been a bust. It had, by going too far out in front of the battalion, taken the Team out of the battle. Then it struck Bannon that this disaster, or at least part of it, had been his fault. Had he obeyed the battalion commander's orders to the letter, Team Yankee would have been closer to C company and able to support it when the Russians hit. A mech company in M-113s on the move was very vulnerable to enemy tanks.

Team Yankee should have been able to simply turn around and support the infantry. He had, however, been in a hurry to get out in front and reach the Saale. Now C company and the command group were gone, and the enemy was getting away.

Just as he finished his self-condemnation, the artillery began to impact to the front of the Soviet tanks. The FIST officer, Plesset, having seen the enemy turn south, adjusted the incoming artillery to where the enemy was headed. He had wanted the artillery to impact directly on the tanks but had misjudged the enemy's speed and distance. This error caused the Soviets to turn east to avoid the artillery. The rapid change of direction allowed them to escape the

artillery, but drove them straight into the Team. The Soviets had either not seen Bannon's tanks and thought their turning east would be safe or they had decided to take on the Team rather than the artillery.

Whatever the reason, the Team now had a chance to finish the job. Without further hesitation, Bannon ordered the tanks to fire at will and issued his fire command as he laid 66's gun on the lead tank coming out of their smoke screen.

"ENEMY TANKS TO THE FRONT!"

The Soviet tank company commander snapped his head to the front in response to his gunner's yell. For a moment he was paralyzed with fear as he watched a line of M-l tanks bearing down on him. It had been a trap. The Americans fooled me and now we are lost. As improbable as it seemed, that was the only way the tank company commander could explain it. No matter now. There was no time for maneuver. No time to make decisions. The only thing left to

do was fight it out with the American tanks head-on. The tank company commander ordered his tanks to attack and began to direct his gunner to engage the lead American tank.

The scene was more like a medieval battle between knights than a clash between the most advanced tanks in the world. Like the knights of Middle Ages, the two groups of tanks charged at each other with lowered lances. Team Yankee had the advantage of surprise and numbers, nine against five. The element of surprise allowed the Team to fire first. The volley from Team Yankee stopped three of the T-72s, two of them blowing up and the third only crippled. The return fire from the Soviets claimed a 3rd Platoon tank.

By the time they were ready to fire again, the Team was right on top of the surviving Soviet tanks. Two of 3rd Platoon's tanks drove past the one Soviet tank still running. The turrets of the U.S. tanks stayed locked on the T-72 as they went by. When the two tanks fired on the Soviet at point-blank range, both rounds penetrated, causing the T-72

to stagger to a halt as internal explosions and sheets of flames blew open its hatches.

The crippled T-72 was overwhelmed. The shock of being hit and having so many targets so close was too much for the crew. They were obviously confused in their last seconds.

Bannon watched the turret move one way to engage a tank, then in the opposite direction to engage a tank that appeared to be a greater threat, then back to the original tank. As he watched this, he wondered why none of the Team's tanks were firing on it. They had all slowed down by now so as not to bypass it, and most of the tanks had their guns trained on the hapless Soviet tank. Yet no one fired. It was almost as if everyone either felt sorry for this lone survivor or they were enjoying making the Soviets suffer the agony of certain death.

Whatever the reason, Bannon ordered Folk to fire. He and four other tank commanders had the same idea at the same instant, giving an effective coup de grace to the last tank.

Six kilometers to the east on the other side of the hill a Soviet tank battalion commander was in the middle of a raging fit. As the lead tank of his second company raced along the narrow trails to catch up with the company already engaged, it had thrown a track making a sharp turn. Now it blocked the trail.

At first he was not worried. There appeared to be plenty of room for the battalion to bypass to one side. This was ordered. The fourth tank that did so, however, also threw a track. Now the bypass was blocked. As he nervously thumped his fingers on his map, waiting for the path to be cleared, the battalion political officer climbed on board his tank and watched the proceedings from there in silence. The battalion commander tried to ignore the political officer but that was not possible. "The bastard," he thought. "He's come here to intimidate me. He'll not succeed." The political officer did, as was his habit, succeed. Both the battalion commander and the political officer heard the report from the lead company that they were being engaged

by American tanks in the flank, and the attack had to be broken off. The political officer leaned over and said, "Well, comrade, what are we going to do? The attack seems to be failing."

This was a threat, clear and simple. The political officer was telling the battalion commander that if he didn't take action, he, the political officer, would. The commander did not hesitate.

At least fighting the Americans gave him a chance. One had no chance with the KGB. The three tanks that had already bypassed were ordered to continue forward to assist the lead company. The battalion commander climbed out of his tank personally to supervise the clearing of the trail. At least the thrashing of arms and yelling would give the appearance of doing something. It was worth a try.

For a moment, Bannon drew a blank. The sight of smashed vehicles and the smell associated with burning tanks was becoming all too familiar. The fact that the battalion's predicament was nowhere near what the plan had called for was not any different from other operations. It was the fact that he had no immediate superior to turn to for orders and assistance that threw him. On Hill 214 he had been alone, but at least he was still able to carry on with the order that had been issued.

This was different. He had one company that had been wiped out and two companies that were facing the wrong way watching the fourth company mill about waiting for him, their commander, to pull his head out and give them some orders. No sooner had the thought

"Why me?" flashed through his mind than the answer followed, "Because you're it." For the moment there was no one else, and if he didn't start doing something fast to get this goat screw squared away, the next wave of Russians would finish them. He ordered Uleski to rally the Team's tanks and stand by for orders. Next he ordered Team Bravo to turn around to a defensive posture covering the rest of the battalion. The D company commander was ordered to rally his unit and sweep the battlefield to clear it of any Soviet survivors and provide whatever help they could to C company's survivors.

Contacting the battalion S-3 Air, a young captain back at the battalion's main CP, Bannon ordered him to report the battalion's current status to brigade, its location, and the fact that it was halted. Additionally, brigade was to be informed that he had assumed command and would contact the brigade commander personally as soon as possible. With that, Bannon switched back to the Team radio net and contacted Uleski, informing him that he would be leaving the Team net. Until further notice, Uleski would command Team Yankee.

Not wanting to sit out in the middle of the field by himself, Bannon ordered Kelp to follow 55.

Dropping down to where the radios were, he flipped through the CEOI, found the radio frequency for the brigade's command net, switched the frequency, and reset the radio's preset frequencies.

While the battalion net had been relatively quiet, brigade's was crowded with a never-ending stream of calls, orders, half-completed conversations, and requests for more information.

Bannon entered the net just as the battalion S-3 Air was finishing the report that he had directed him to make. Not surprisingly, most of the information was wrong. Colonel Brunn, the brigade commander, came back and asked the S-3 Air to confirm the battalion's current location.

Before he could respond, Bannon answered and gave the correct location and his assessment of the battalion's current status. He informed the brigade commander that the battalion was no longer capable of continuing the attack. Bannon ran down a list of the reasons why and waited for an answer. When he finished, there was a moment of silence on the brigade net while the grim news sank in. Then, without hesitation or a long-winded discussion, Colonel Brunn contacted the commander of the 1st of the 4th Armor and ordered him to pass through the mech battalion and continue the attack north as the brigade's lead element. Brunn came back to Bannon, ordering him to rally the battalion and to keep the brigade S-3 posted on its status. For the moment, Task Force 1 st of the 78th Infantry was out of

the war.

As Garger led his platoon through the area where C company and the Soviet tank company had been wiped out,

he realized that he was seeing another aspect of war that he had so far missed: the aftermath. Up to this point, all his battles had been at long range. He had taken part in the run through the town of Arnsdorf with the CO

during the defense of Hill 214, where they had been eyeball to eyeball with the Russians. But that action was fast, a blur of activity in a heated night action.

This was different. The slow movement of the Team through the battle area offered him ample opportunities to view the debris of battle more closely. There were the smashed vehicles, tanks, and PCs. Some burned fiercely while others showed no apparent damage, almost as if their crews had simply stopped their vehicles. It was the dead and the dying that were most unsettling. Here a tank crewman hung halfway out of a burning tank, his body blackened and burning. Over there a group of dead infantrymen who had abandoned their PC, cut down by the advancing Soviet tanks. Everywhere the lightly wounded were moving about, sorting out those who could be helped and those who were beyond help. Garger didn't want to watch. He wanted to turn away. But that was not possible. The horror of the scene had a fascination that held his attention.

The time span could not have been more than two minutes from when the firing in the valley to the west had stopped and the sound of advancing tanks coming from the east was detected. Polgar heard the squeak of the sprockets just as the forward security team he had sent out reported that there were tanks coming down the trail fast. Polgar had to remind them to report the type and number of tanks they were observing. Sheepishly, the NCO in charge of the security element reported three T-72s moving across an open area in the woods toward where Polgar had deployed the rest of the Platoon.

Instead of defending at the tree line where the security element was located, he had decided to set up deep in the woods where his people would have the greatest advantages and the tanks would be the most vulnerable and helpless. The Dragons would be worthless in this fight. The antitank guided missile they fired needed to fly some distance before

the warhead armed. There wasn't enough standoff distance here for that to happen. This fight was going to be strictly man against tank at very close range. For this, the Mech Platoon was ready.

Polgar observed the tanks as they came. The tank commanders were up in the cupolas pushing their tanks forward for all they were worth. They did not seem to be concerned with security. The fact that the lead element had passed through these woods without incident apparently satisfied this group of Russian tankers that the trail was clear. Besides, they were hell-bent to join the lead element as fast as possible. In a twisted bit of humor, Polgar thought to himself as he watched the T-72s advance that all three would very soon be joining their comrades in the valley wherever good Communists go when they die.

Polgar and his men were far more relaxed as they waited to spring this ambush than they had been on Hill 214. The big Soviet tanks could be defeated. The men and the leaders in the Mech Platoon knew this now. They hadn't been too sure the first day or that night on the hill. They were veterans now, however, and knew what they could do. To some it was almost a contest, a challenge of sorts. Infantrymen were always trying to prove to tankers that they could easily do in their archrivals on the battlefield. The detonation of the first antitank mine was their cue to do so again. As the platoon went into action, there was nothing for Polgar to do. Every man had been briefed on his role and went into action as planned. Machine gunners and riflemen cut down the tank commanders before they could respond or drop down inside the tanks. Other infantrymen with light antitank rocket launchers, called LAWs, began to fire. One LAW is not enough to kill a tank. Sometimes it would take up to twelve LAWS before the tank died. Because of this Polgar had organized four-man tank killer teams under an NCO. Each man had several LAWs. The NCO would designate the target tank and fire. Each of the men would then fire in turn against the same tank. In this way, the first two tanks were rapidly dispatched.