Team Yankee: a novel of World War III (37 page)

Sensing that the time was right, Major Jordan delivered his coup de grace. He ordered Team Yankee to fire. The first volley was devastating. Those Soviets headed toward the Team's positions were dispatched without ever knowing what happened. After the first well-measured volley, the tank crews in Team Yankee began to engage the Soviet tanks in their assigned sectors of responsibility. Firing rapidly, the tanks began to methodically take out the Soviet tanks starting with those closest to the Team's positions. Above the din of battle, the shouted orders of tank commanders could be heard:

"FIRE!" "GUNNER-SABOT-TWO TANKSFIRE!" "TARGET-NEXT TANK-FIRE!" Like a wolf smelling blood on a crippled and dying animal, the Scout Platoon swung around to the rear of the Soviet regiment and began to engage. The people who started the battle rushed forward as the battalion began the final stages of its killing frenzy.

The scene before Bannon was staggering. He stood upright in the turret and watched. Folk no longer needed him, simply continuing to engage anything that appeared in his sight. Folk, the loader, the cannon, and the fire control system were one complete machine, functioning automatically, efficiently, effectively.

Hell itself could not have compared with the scene in the open space to the front of 66.

There was the burning village of Langen in the background. Flames, interrupted by the impact of incoming artillery rounds, leaped high above the village and disappeared in low hanging clouds. From the far left of Bannon's field of vision to the far right and beyond, smashed Soviet tanks and tracked vehicles burned, spewing out great sheets of flames as the propellant from onboard ammunition ignited and blew. Burning diesel from ruptured fuel cells formed flaming pools around dead tanks. Tracers and missiles streaked across the field from all directions, causing stunning showers of sparks when a tank round hit a Soviet tank or a brilliant flash as a missile found its mark. Soviet crewmen, some burning, abandoned their tanks only to be cut down as chattering machine guns added their stream of red tracers to the fray. Transfixed by this scene, Bannon received a new understanding of Wilfred Owen's grim poem, "Dulce et Decorum Est."

As in all the Team's battles, there was no really clear-cut ending. The deafening crescendo of battle suddenly tapered off as the gunners ran out of targets. It was replaced by random shooting, usually machine guns searching out fugitive Soviet crewmen trying to escape. No order was given to cease fire. There was no need to. As before, Bannon allowed the Team to take out those that had survived the destruction of their vehicles. Mopping up is a useful term for this random killing. Team Yankee and D company continued to mop up for the better part of an hour.

When he was sure that the last of the Soviet tanks had been destroyed, Bannon called for a SITREP from the platoons. From his position he could not see any more of the Team than the tanks to his immediate left and right. In the heat of battle, he and the platoon leaders had become totally absorbed in fighting their tanks. There had been no need to exercise any command or control once the order to fire had been given. It had been a simple case of fire quickly and keep firing. The result was that, although he knew they had stopped the Soviets, Bannon had no idea what it had cost the Team.

The replies he received from the platoons were difficult to believe but welcome. Though several tanks had been hit, the total cost to the Team had been two men killed and four wounded, most of them from the Mech Platoon, as usual, and one tank damaged. The positions dug by the engineers and the fact that Team Yankee had joined the battle last, after the Soviet commanders has lost control of the situation, allowed the Team to come out with relatively light casualties.

Listening to the SITREPs given over the battalion radio net, Bannon learned that D company had suffered far more than Team Yankee due to the Soviet artillery fire and the fact that they were in the middle of things. Even so, that company was still in good shape and could field three slightly understrength platoons.

By the time Major Jordan got around to calling for a SITREP from the Team, Bannon's elation at coming out of this last fight so well with so little damage gave way to cockiness.

When the major asked for a report, Bannon gave him the same words Wellington had used when describing the Battle of Waterloo: "They came in the same old way, and you know, we beat them, in the same old way."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

To the Saale.

The creeping dawn of the tenth day of war revealed the full extent of their success. Over eighty Soviet vehicles lay smashed and strewn in the Langen Gap. The largest gaggle of burned-out hulks was between Langen and the Team's positions. A few of the tanks had been less than fifty meters away from Team Yankee when they had been hit.and stopped.

The battalion had been heavily outnumbered and by all rights should have paid dearly for holding the gap. But it had held and had done so cheaply. The favorable margin of victory had only been achieved through the planning and orchestration of the battle by Major Jordan.

Despite the magnitude of what they had done, there were no visible signs of joy or pride in Team Yankee. The closest thing to emotion displayed by anyone was a look of utter exhaustion. The efforts of the previous day and night, the emotional roller coaster caused by fleeting brushes with death and brief but intense periods of combat had taken their toll. When Bannon trooped the line at dawn, he was greeted with simple nods or stares by those who were still awake. Uleski was lying on top of 55 in a sleep that bordered on death. As there was no need to wake him, Bannon left instructions with Gwent to have him report to 66 when he

woke but not later than 1100 hours. Bob Uleski needed his sleep more than Bannon needed him.

In the Mech Platoon area the men were split up evenly, half of them in the foxholes on alert and the rest back at the tracks. The day was starting cool and overcast. Since the mud in the foxholes hadn't begun to dry and wouldn't do so anytime soon, Polgar sent those men who weren't on duty to the tracks to sleep where it was dry. Bannon found him sitting with his back against a tree, his Ml6 cradled in his arms, asleep. As with Uleski, Bannon didn't bother him but left the same message with the squad leader in charge.

The morning passed quietly. The Team simply remained in position and watched the area to its front for any signs of activity. Patrols from D company had begun to sweep the battlefield after the last of the scatterable mines had selfdestructed. Occasionally there would be a random shot fired, but no one paid much attention. The patrols were stopping at each Soviet vehicle to check it. When they were satisfied that the vehicle was harmless, the patrol leader would mark it with chalk. Those tracks that were still burning were given wide berth.

The bodies strewn about the field were also checked. Not many Soviet crewmen had managed to abandon their tanks and tracks when they had been hit. Some had, however, and in spite of the machine-gun fire laid down by Team Yankee and D company, some had survived. When a wounded Russian was found the patrol would stop and call for medics. An ambulance track darted from place to place picking up casualties. The patrols even came across a few Russians who had managed to hide or play dead through the night. Those who did not immediately surrender were not given a second chance. There appeared to be no one in a charitable mood on the patrols.

Starting at 1100 hours, word went out to the platoons to roust everyone and start their maintenance routine, including cleaning and boresighting weapons. When Uleski came around, blurry-eyed and rumpled, Bannon instructed him to compile by noon a complete status of the Team on ammo, fuel, other POL needs, maintenance problems, and personnel needs for each vehicle. At that time Bannon intended to have a short meeting with the platoon leaders to cover their current status and give them any news from battalion that he could come up with. Uleski simply sighed, saluted, and gave a "Roger-Out" as he began to go about his tasks. Kelp and Bannon already had a good head start on the task of cleaning up and preparing for the next battle. While they sat and watched D company's patrols during the morning, they had cleaned 66's three machine guns and their own pistols. Although Kelp had matured into a good soldier, he still was excited by some of the more gruesome aspects of war. Sitting on top of the turret, cleaning weapons, he would occasionally yell out,

"There goes another one!" Grabbing the binoculars, he would watch as a patrol stopped to dispatch a Russian who had been hiding and had chosen to evade rather than surrender.

After each chase was terminated, he would offer his views and critique the patrol's performance, noting that they were using way too much ammunition to bring down the Russians. When Bannon offered to arrange it so that Kelp could go out there and show the infantry how to do it, he lightened up on his remarks, but continued to watch.

It wasn't until well after noon that Bannon was able to meet with Major Jordan, who had been called to brigade headquarters at 0900 and spent several hours there. On his return, he called all the commanders and staff into Langen for a meeting. He had new orders.

While the battalion's mission hadn't changed, its organization had. Team Yankee, with all three tank platoons and one mech platoon, was being returned to 1st of the 4th Armor. The I st of the 78th was to remain at Langen reporting directly to division. Major Jordan explained the reasoning behind all this and the "Big Picture."

While the Soviets were busy trying to break into the division's flank through the battalion, they also had thrown other forces directly at the brigade's lead element as they advanced to the Saale River. Despite this, the brigade had been able to continue the advance at a slow, steady, and

costly rate. The I st of the 4th was fought out and in its turn had to be replaced by another battalion while it recouped.

The problem facing the division, and the rest of the U.S. Army in Europe, was that it was running out of equipment. Prepositioned war stocks of tanks, personnel carriers, trucks, and all the hardware needed to wage a modern war had run out. Some equipment was arriving from the States but not near enough to replace equipment at the rate at which it was being lost. Even if the Navy could provide the necessary sea lift to carry what was needed, there wasn't enough equipment available in the States anyway. At prewar levels, which most of the factories were still at, the U.S. could only produce a pitifully small number of M- I tanks a month. The Army in Europe was capable of losing the equivalent of one month's production of tanks in a single day.

The solution to this problem was to strip understrength units and concentrate all resources in those units making the main effort. There wasn't enough to go around so units still capable of carrying out offensive operations or holding critical sectors received priority on everything.

The

1 st of the 78th was no longer capable of offensive operations. Sitting in Langen, it was now out of the division's main effort. The brigade was still capable of reaching the Saale if all available assets were concentrated to support its two battalions that could still attack. The I st of the 4th was one of those units, and Team Yankee was one of those available assets that could be sent in.

Major Jordan was not at all pleased to lose the Team. Although nobody at division thought the Soviets would try the Langen Gap again, the 1st of the 78th would be hard pressed to stop them if they did. The battalion was now going to be down to two understrength mech companies. The major didn't discuss this, he didn't have to.

The commanders and the staff all knew what could and couldn't be done. The mood of the assembled group was depressed. Everyone also knew, however, that if the war was going to be won, risks had to be taken. The division and brigade were risking that the Soviets would not attack at Langen again. If they did, division was willing to risk the chance of a failure there,

hoping that a breakthrough at the Saale would cancel the Soviet threat to the flank. It was the job of division and corps commanders to weigh such risks and make decisions. It was the job of the staff and the commanders of

1st of the 78th to accept those risks and carry out orders.

There was not much fanfare over the Team's departure. The major gave Bannon his instructions on when he was to link up with the 1st of the 4th, where, and route of march.

Bannon coordinated with the battalion S-4 for rearming and refueling before the Team departed that evening. He talked to the Team Bravo commander and told him where the 1 st Tank Platoon was to go when it was released back to the Team. Then, with no further business in Langen and much to tend to, he returned to the Team.

News of their return to I st of the 4th was universally hailed by the Team with the exception of Sergeant Polgar. He said it really didn't matter to him where his platoon went so long as it stayed with Team Yankee. When Bannon thanked him for his vote of confidence he replied that confidence had nothing to do with it. The chow in Team Yankee had always been good, and good food meant he had fewer complaints to listen to from his men. Second Lieutenant Murray Weiss, the leader of I st Platoon, was particularly happy to be coming back to the Team. He had the honor of being the company's only Jew, a fact that left him open to a great deal of ethnic humor. Like Bob Uleski, he had an almost infinite capacity to absorb incoming jokes and return them, as he had learned to do from an early age. Weiss's decision to make the military his career was a shock to his family. The U.S. Army was not normally something that college-educated Jewish boys were taught to aspire to. But Murray had deep convictions. The Israeli tankers who had fought in the Sinai and on the Golan had been his childhood heroes. While his friends aspired to be doctors or lawyers, he dreamed of being a tanker like Gen. Mordecai Tal. Weiss's performance before and during the war showed he was well on his way. The Team had much to do. It could not leave before dark.

To do so would telegraph to the Soviets the weakness of the Langen Gap. They would find out soon enough that the tanks were gone and there were only two weak companies there.