Warzone: Nemesis: A Novel of Mars (18 page)

The Americans now had the Soviet targets within range. The radio squawked the first firing solution into the vehicle commander’s radio piece on his headset. SGT Rolling Thunder relayed the coordinates to his gunner CPL Long Reach, who in turn entered them into the computer and fired. The big gun jerked back in recoil, and shook the moon beneath it, but the stab hooks and recoil spade held the piece firm. Self-ejecting shell casings could have injured the men inside of the long gun, so the design provided that the men had to remove each casing manually. The first gunner’s mate opened the breech, removed the old casing, and handed it to the second gunner’s mate. The second gunner’s mate accepted the casing, dropped it behind him, manually took the next HE shell off of the rack, armed the fuse, and handed it to the first gunner’s mate. The first gunner’s mate manually loaded the armed shell into the big gun’s ramming device, loaded into the breech and locked it down, giving a thumbs up sign to the vehicle commander and stood to the side to avoid the big gun’s recoil. While the shell was being fired, PVT Powder Monkey shoved the spent casing out the back of the Howitzer through a hole affectionately referred to by the gunners as the
bung hole
.

It was a good thing that these shells, weighing ninety-five pounds on Earth, only weighed roughly sixteen pounds here
, thought first gunner’s mate Powder Monkey. It would make it easier to handle the shells if their battle lasted over two hours, with no breaks. No difference. The Soviet and American artillery were so evenly matched that he doubted if any of the
cannon cockers
on either side would live to see tomorrow.

The first Soviet self-propelled, armor-plated Howitzer made contact with the lunar surface and spread out its side stabilizers and recoil spade in nearly record time. Even so, a shell landed right next to them—the shock of the ground beneath them taxed the ability of the recoil spades to absorb the shock, and the vehicle shook as if an earthquake had rocked it. The sergeant’s gunner already had the firing solution loaded into his computer for the first round, and quickly fired it as soon as his gun was operational. Within two minutes, the Americans had managed to destroy four of the Soviets guns, losing only one. The Americans were ahead by one artillery piece, but the advantage was fragile at best. The explosions on both sides were like some silent picture, but the men knew they were real. The impact of each HE shell created a ground tremor and a brilliant flash of light, contrasted by the fact that night had provided only starlight to see by.

By the end of the first hour of the artillery battle, the Soviets were down to six artillery pieces, the Americans seven. Both sides reorganized their units into one last platoon. The Americans lost two of the three platoon command officers, MAJ Blowout and CPT Concussion, besides the loss of 1SGT Stovepipe and 1SGT Percussion, the NCO commanders of Alpha and Charlie Platoons. The only officers and NCO’s left were LTC Judgment Day, CPT Salvo, CSM Rainmaker, 1SGT Backfire and SGT Rolling Thunder.

SGT Rolling Thunder and his crew had also survived the fighting and signaled the resupply vehicle to back up to them for a reload. The resupply vehicle loaded the shells through the four loading tubes in the rear of the vehicle. They were designed to allow reloading from the outside without letting out their heat and breathable air. Each shell was injected into a tube, a door sealed behind it, and compressed air shot the shell to the inside crew which manually loaded them onto the racks. The sergeant thought the whole process reminded him of doing business from a bank drive-in window. SGT Rolling Thunder grabbed the first shell and armed the fuse and used the ramming device to load the breech of the big gun. The resupply vehicle paused, and the crew stopped stacking shells in the racks while the big gun shook the ground when fired. The sergeant removed the shell casing and grabbed another while the resupply vehicle continued reloading. After getting the next firing solution from the fire direction center, he signaled to stop resupply and fired, then repeating the process until the vehicle was fully rearmed. The crew resumed their rhythm and all hands were working together, firing the big gun.

With a hot rearm and firing at the same time, they still set a new marine record for time. CPL Long Reach was having a serious nicotine fit. He wished he’d taken the advice of his commander and either quit or started dipping smokeless tobacco. A cigarette break right now would seal their doom and maybe that of the post.

SGT Anton Magnovska had survived the early fighting and was getting his Howitzer reloaded with high-explosive shells from their resupply vehicle. They reloaded their racks, firing at the Americans in the same way they were fired upon. His leave was postponed because of this battle. Alina, his wife, had given birth after he left to come here, and he hadn’t seen his daughter Natalia yet. She was already two years old, blond haired, blue-eyed and very beautiful. He had to shake the feelings of homesickness and concentrate on the task at hand. Reload was complete and they were back to shooting four shells a minute. The ground shook violently with a flash of bright light announcing a near miss. The Soviets renewed their attack with grim determination.

CSM Rainmaker was stationed along with LTC Judgment Day in the fire direction center, observing the battle and directing orders. The fire direction center came under a heavy barrage, and they had to abandon it with their staff. A crater was all that was left of CSM Rainmaker when the shell exploded. His death was reported to COL Red Fangs, who radioed the sole surviving ranking first sergeant from Bravo Platoon.

“Command Sergeant Major Backfire?” The battlefield promotion was noticed.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“Take charge, CPT Salvo is still alive and your commander. Neutralize the enemy ASAP.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

LTC Judgment Day had the forethought of having the fire direction center’s communication links routed to his tank’s computer and had taken over the “big picture” decisions while the target information from the last forward observer post and the last spy drone were being fed directly to the artillery crew’s computers. The post’s radar array was operable but not as good as the laser targeting from the forward observer and the spy drone. Soon it may be all they had.

COL Red Fangs sipped a final cup of coffee while keeping track of the counter artillery battery’s progress. Soon it would come down to this. Have we moved the odds enough to our favor to survive?

The maxim of Sun Tzu came to mind. “All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive… Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.”

He’d shored up their every weakness, prepared a good defense, held out his post as enticing bait and had deceived the enemy. Nothing was left but to execute the plan, and trust that the best trained fighting force America had ever produced would bring them to victory.

The Soviet’s artillery line had redirected fire from shelling the American big guns long enough to destroy the American’s fire direction center. This didn’t achieve the desired result. The Americans rerouted their command and communication functions quickly. The redirected fire hurt the Soviets. The American line kept right on firing at their artillery. CPT Salvo was pleased with the gain. True, the fire direction center was the eyes and brain of the operation, but the function was quickly rerouted. The artillery line was the fangs of this tiger. Ignoring them for even a minute was a costly mistake. The Soviets were now down to one big gun, the Americans two.

LTC Averbukh advised SGT Anton Magnovska that they were the last unit on the line. He held his peace, knowing that his brother Yan was probably dead. He would have to grieve later, or he would never return home. The Soviet crew fervently loaded the big gun as fast as possible, expending whatever strength they had left. The end was soon, one way or another.

The Soviets took down one of the last two American artillery pieces—bringing the count down to one big gun apiece for both sides.

SGT Rolling Thunder and his crew had gotten a good laser sighting from the last spy drone before it was destroyed. He entered the firing solution into the computer and fired. The Howitzer rocked in its report, sending the high-explosive shell toward the target. The shell struck the right stabilizer arm of the Soviet artillery piece and blew it completely off, turning the unit to the left and firing off-target. The American forward observer noted where the shell hit and called in a slight adjustment. The Americans adjusted their aim and fired. The shell landed squarely in the middle of the Howitzer and exploded. It rocked the unit and the explosion boomed inside for half a second until the vacuum outside sucked the air out through the gaping hole left by the explosion.

The Soviets had already put on their helmets, but it was too late. The next shell went through the open hatch and blew the artillery piece apart, killing all of the crewmembers.

The American forward observer, SGT Monitor, reported the destruction of the last of the Soviet artillery line. LTC Judgment Day ordered him to hold his position and start to locate the heat signatures of the Soviet command officers. He was able to locate all three of them, and withdraw ahead of their charge, keeping them in his instrumentation as he returned to the post.

COL Glaskov would have liked to have won the artillery exchange and destroy some of their post before the tank charge. If he failed to take the American post, his appointment to the Politburo would be withdrawn, he was certain. He’d already lost the men of his artillery line. He had forty-three tanks to lead the charge, with ten more at the Americans’ rear, ready to strike at their unprotected flank. The Soviet charge would meet with the American guntowers, turrets, one artillery piece, and the feeble tank regiment. If they charged now, they could destroy the American post before they could recycle the scrap from the artillery line and build more tanks. He had a sense of foreboding, but if the charge succeeded, the Americans wouldn’t be able to launch another expedition. If he returned to his post, he would be abandoning all of the alloy-x scrap gained by the destruction of the first American post, and the Americans would be dug in here forever.

“LTC Averbukh?”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel?”

“Spread out, attack from all directions to take away their artillery advantage. The Americans have one gun left.”

“Yes, Comrade Colonel.”

The Russian artillery line had been set up ninety-six miles, or one hundred fifty-five kilometers from the American post. The Lunar gravity made the big gun’s effective range longer. COL Red Fangs estimated that the Soviet charge would arrive in approximately fifty-four minutes, travelling at about forty-eight meters per second, which roughly figured as one hundred six miles per hour.

LTC Judgment Day moved to the back of the post where the Soviets soon would be attempting to climb to their back door.

“1LT Relentless!”

“Sir, the enemies are moving into position now.”

“Good. Hold steady until they’re all over the MTS mines.”

One by one the Soviets moved forward until they were over the mines, from the lead vehicle to the last.

“Let’s collect our prize!”

“Yes, sir!”

The post’s first officer ordered the MTS mines activated. 1LT Relentless was in charge of Sniper Det Alpha, and had his men line up over the ridge. There was no doubt when a ship was under the magnetic field of a MTS mine. The mines emitted a hum, the ship’s instrumentation went crazy, and the
pull
on the ship made the gravity appear stronger. The Soviets knew that they were caught, like flies on flypaper.

CPT Yakov Dvorkin cursed under his breath. It was obvious the Americans expected them and that they were snared by MTS mines. He grabbed his
bang stick
and popped the hatch open. The bang stick fired shells with a titanium alloy projectile having an explosive charge, which pierced the MTS mine casing and blew up the works inside, rendering it useless and releasing the tank. The other pilots followed suit, with the exception of two of the pilots who popped out with sniper rifles and trained their sights on the ledge above them. It was too late—both snipers fell to the ground dead. Two of the other pilots dropped their bang sticks and picked up their sniper rifles but were also killed before they could shoulder a round. The snipers above had been shooting everything that was standing, and stopped when only two men were left alive. The Soviet pilots looked at the carnage around them. They dropped their bang sticks and lifted their hands in the air. The Americans on the cliff above held up a sign written in Russian that said “do not move.”

LTC Judgment Day ordered the team to go collect their prisoners. The Americans bound the Soviet pilots and lifted them to the top with the crane that was standing ready to bring up the Soviet tanks. The American technicians removed the Soviet ship’s transponders and kept them powered up with external power supplies. They would continue to send a signal to the Soviets from below the ledge until the artillery battle was over. The Americans now had an enticing bait and an illusion of weakness.
Master Sun would have approved
, thought the first officer.

The Americans hoisted the ten ships up over the ledge, and towed them to the hangar deck. There the computer drives would be replaced so the American pilots could operate them. Now that the back door was secure, and the enemies’ vessels were acquired, it was all up to the hangar deck crew to do the conversions expeditiously.

Four scrap-collecting scavengers were gathering up scrap from the destroyed artillery pieces and had been doing so since the first one went down over two hours ago. Like ants gathering food for the winter in their determination, they brought the alloy-x scrap to the factory building to build new tanks. The effort was paying off. It was estimated that four new tanks would be ready by the time the Soviets arrived, and pilots were standing by at the factory ready to take possession of them. The collections of scrap by the scavenger team under fire cost them three scavengers and their pilots.