"BRAVO 3 ROMEO-THIS IS ROMEO 25-WHO IS UNDER FIRE AND WHERE'S IT

COMING

FROM?OVER."

Both tank platoons rapidly reported back that they were not under fire. It was the Mech Platoon that provided the answer.

"ROMEO 25-THIS IS ZULU 77-1 THINK THE PEOPLE THAT WERE FOLLOWING US

ARE

UNDER ATTACK-I CAN SEE SEVERAL FIRES BEHIND USOVER."

Bannon turned completely around in the cupola and stood as high as he could. In the distance, to the rear of the Mech Platoon, he now could clearly see four pillars of black smoke rising into the air. C company had been hit. But from where? By whom? And why no reports from battalion? He dropped down and switched to the battalion net to try to contact the battalion commander. When there was no response, Bannon tried to contact the S-3. Still no luck.

It was the D company commander who told him what was going on. In rapid-fire fragments he reported that C company

was under attack from Soviet tanks coming from the east. He went on to report that he was deploying his company into a hasty defense along the road from Issel to Korberg. There was no time to get away. With that, he dropped off the net and stayed off despite Bannon's efforts to contact him. No doubt he was busy running his company.

He then contacted the Team Bravo commander to learn if he was in contact. Lieutenant Peterson reported that he was not in contact but could see the Soviet tanks coming down off the hill to the east. He estimated that there were at least ten, maybe more. He couldn't make out what kind they-were but since they were shooting on the move and hitting, he figured that they were T-72s or better.

It was clear that the battalion was in trouble. The battalion commander and the S-3 could not be reached. C company was probably scattered and fighting for its life. D company had checked out of the net as it prepared to greet the Russian onslaught. That left Team Yankee and Bravo with Bannon the senior officer. Suddenly he found himself in the position of being in command of half the battalion and having to come up with a solution to the nightmare or face losing the whole damned battalion. As these thoughts ran through his mind like a runaway locomotive, Team Yankee continued to move north, away from the battle, at a rate of one meter a second.

The Soviet tank company commander could feel the adrenaline run through his veins. They were closing on the Americans. Already a half-dozen personnel carriers were burning hulks with the rest scattering to get out of the way. All semblance of order had been lost as the Americans turned and ran. Surprise had been complete. Now they were reaping the benefits that their speed, fire, and shock effect had created.

With curt orders he directed the fire of his platoons. A report that there were more personnel carriers deploying to the west of the road drew his attention to the ten or twelve that were some three kilometers away. These carriers were dropping their ramps to let their infantry dismount. The tank

company would have to finish the first enemy company fast and get to the second before they had time to set up a viable defense. Speed was critical! He began to issue new orders to his platoon leaders.

With little chance to think the whole problem out, Bannon began to issue orders. On the battalion net, he ordered Team Bravo to turn east, cross the north-south road, go about a kilometer, then turn south, and take the Soviets under fire in the flank with TOWS and tanks.

When Peterson acknowledged those orders, Bannon dropped down to the Team net and ordered the FIST chief to call for all the artillery and close air support he could and to get into position from which he could control it.

He then ordered the Mech Platoon to move to the southeast along the tree line into the gap formed by the two hills to their right. He was sure that the Soviets had come from there and expected more would follow. The Mech Platoon was to set up an antiarmor ambush in the woods and keep the Soviets from reinforcing the company already in the valley. The two tank platoons and the XO were ordered to follow 66.

As 66 turned east and headed up the hill to the tree line, Bannon explained over the Team net what they were going to do. Once they reached the tree line, they would turn south, following the tree line. When they got to the gap, if there were more Soviet tanks already coming out, they would hit them in the flank. If, however, Polgar got to the gap first, the tanks would turn west once they reached the gap and attack the Soviets in the rear. The Mech Platoon would be left to deal with any follow-on Soviets as best they could.

It was all Uleski could do to hang on. The Team commander had his tank roaring along the tree line at full speed, with the rest of the tanks in the Team trying hard to keep up. The Mech Platoon had taken off on its own as soon as it had its orders. To their right they could see the battle in the valley. A dozen burning tracks were scattered about the area. The Soviet tanks were clearly visible as they fired and

moved forward. At the ranges the Soviets were firing at, they seldom missed. Gwent, the gunner, kept his gun laid on the Soviets below. The range was too great even if the Team commander had given them permission to fire. At the rate they were moving, however, that would not be a problem in a few minutes.

Uleski could feel his blood rising as he worked himself into a rage in preparation for the upcoming battle. He stoked the fires of his hatred of the Soviets by recalling how his first driver, Thomas Lorriet, had died. The image of the young soldier's body on the ground that first day pushed aside any last shred of compassion he had for the enemy as he cursed the Russians out loud over the whine of 55's engine.

As his tank raced along behind 66, Garger realized that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

At first, it was frightening. Men were dying there in the valley. In a few minutes he would be in the middle of the fray, adding to the killing and, if his luck ran out, being killed himself. The very idea that he should be enjoying this seemed inappropriate at first. But there was no denying the feeling. He had never felt so alive. Standing in the turret of 31 as it raced along, the image of the U.S. cavalry riding out to the rescue flashed through his mind. The only things missing from this scene were the troop's guidon and a bugler sounding the charge.

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.

The third tank, seeing the plight of the first two, began to back up. It didn't get far, however.

Two infantrymen, on

opposite sides of the trail, pulled a mine attached to a rope onto the trail under the third tank as it backed up. The detonation destroyed the engine but did not kill the crew. The crew began to spray the woods indiscriminately with machine-gun fire in an effort to kill some of their unseen assailants.

A squad leader in charge of this area called for smoke. Several men threw grenades that erupted into billowing clouds of colored smoke. Once this smoke screen was thick enough to provide cover, the squad leader maneuvered his tank killer team into position behind the tank where he knew the turret would not be able to be turned on them. For several seconds the LAW gunners waited for the smoke to clear. Once they had a clear shot, the LAW

gunners began to fire. First the NCO, then the next man. Then the third. At the range they were engaging from, no one was missing. The LAWS slammed into the crippled tank one after the other at a measured interval. As Polgar watched, he knew the third tank was doomed.

So did the crew of the tank. Deciding that there was no point in dying for the Motherland just for the sake of dying, they surrendered. The tank gunner stuck his hand up out of the commander's hatch and waved a white rag. Both Polgar and the NCO in charge of the LAW

gunners ordered a cease-fire. This was something new. They were finally going to meet the enemy. A defeated enemy.

Once the firing stopped, the gunner slowly began to emerge. Looking around, he continued to climb out. When he saw the first American, he stopped and waved the white rag again, just to be sure. The gunner didn't move until the American signaled him to climb down. As he did so, the driver opened his hatch and climbed out and onto the ground.

The Russians were terrified. They were searched at gunpoint, their pistols and anything else that could be used as a weapon were stripped from them. While this search was in progress, an NCO climbed up to check out the tank commander and the rest of the tank.

When it was discovered that the tank commander was still alive, two more infantrymen climbed up and gave the NCO a hand, lowering the

wounded Russian down and away from the tank while the medic was called. The Russian gunner and driver, seeing this, relaxed. The horror stories their political officers had told them about Americans killing prisoners were lies. They were safe. They would live.

As he worked on the wounded tank commander, the medic thought how ironic this was.

Less than two minutes ago everyone in the platoon was trying to kill this man. Now he was doing his damnedest to save the Russian's life. War was definitely screwed up. The medic hoped that someday someone would explain it all to him. But not right now. There was a man's life to save.

Bannon was in the process of gathering the commanders of Team Bravo and D company when Polgar reported the tanks. As soon as he heard about it, he ordered Uieski to take the Team's tanks up to the Mech Platoon's position. Once there he was to establish a defensive position blocking that trail with one tank platoon and the Mech Platoon and hold another tank platoon back as a reaction force.

His meeting with the other commanders was interrupted by the arrival of Major Jordan. A D

company PC making a sweep of the area found the major and the survivors of the command group in a ditch where they had taken cover when their tracks had been hit. Jordan was covered with mud and bloodstains but was physically all right. As soon as he saw the gathered commanders, he

smiled, "Bannon, I never thought that I would be so happy to see those damned tanks of yours as I was when they came rolling down. It was great.

" The Major talked fast and appeared hyper. That was not surprising. Given the spot he had just come from, it was to be expected.

"I'm glad to see you, sir. For awhile we thought the whole command group was gone. Did Colonel Reynolds make it?"

"He's been hit, hit bad. The medics have him now. His track and mine were hit in the first volley. That any of us survived is nothing short of a miracle. As it was, we had three dead and five wounded in the command group alone. How did the rest of the battalion do?"

While the major sat, drinking water and regaining his composure, Bannon went over the current status of the battalion. C company had, for all practical purposes, ceased to exist.

Two squads of infantry and their PCs as well as one ITV from C company had joined D

company. There were a number of individual stragglers being policed up but many of them were wounded.

As

all the officers and senior NCOs had been hit or were unaccounted for, it would take awhile to come up with a total casualty count for that unit. D company had lost three PCs and one ITV. Their total casualties included five dead, thirteen wounded, and three missing. Team Bravo hadn't lost anything. Team Yankee had one tank damaged, the 33 tank, with two wounded. In addition to the line companies, the command group had lost all three of their PCs. Overall, the battalion had lost fifteen PCs, three ITVs, and one tank during the Soviet counterattack. Even if the three tanks Polgar's people had gotten were counted, the battalion had lost more than it had taken.

The 1st of the 4th began to roll past the major and his gathered commanders on the road headed north. The men of that battalion viewed the devastation on both sides of the road in silence as they went by. When the command group of the 1 st of the 4th rolled by, the S-3's track broke out of the column and came down to where Bannon, Jordan, and the other commanders were gathered. Major Shell, the battalion S-3, asked for a quick update on what information Major Jordan had so far about activity to the front and flank. Jordan gave him what he had, which wasn't much. Major Shell looked around for a moment, wished him luck, then mounted his track and took off to catch up with the rest of his command group.

Uleski's report that there were more Soviet tanks coming down the trail towards Team Yankee's position broke up the meeting. Bannon asked Jordan if

he had any orders for him. Still not completely caught up on the overall picture and somewhat shaken from his experience, Jordan replied, "No, just hold the flank." With that, Bannon mounted 66 and moved up to rejoin the Team.

Bob Uleski was still in the process of redeploying the Team when the Soviets appeared.

When he had arrived at the position, two of the three tanks the Mech Platoon had hit were burning and giving off clouds of thick black smoke. There was no doubt the next group of Soviets would be able to see the smoke and would put two and two together. The trick of hiding in the woods would not work a second time. After a quick consultation with Polgar, Uleski had 3rd Platoon and his tank deploy on either side of the trail at the tree line where the security element had been watching the open area in the woods. The Mech Platoon, divided into two groups, each with two Dragons, began to deploy to the tree lines on the north and south side of the open area. The plan was for the 3rd Platoon to bar the trail physically while the Mech Platoon hit the Soviets on both flanks. The Mech Platoon was not yet in position, however, when the Soviets started coming. The lead Soviet tank rolled out into the open and then stopped as soon as he saw the black smoke. It was obvious that the tank commander was reporting and would be able to see the 3rd Platoon sitting in the tree line at a range of six hundred meters. So Uleski ordered Garger to open fire. Two 3rd Platoon tanks quickly destroyed the T-72.

As he watched the T-72 burn, Uleski got Polgar on the radio and told him to get into position fast. It wouldn't be long before the Soviets made their next move. Uleski then entered the battalion net to report, requesting artillery on the trail across the open area from him where the Soviets were probably lined up. It was now a question of who would be ready first.

The Soviet battalion commander was not at all happy with his situation. The regimental commander was pushing him to attack and would not listen to reason. The Americans had his battalion bottled up on the trail with almost no room to maneuver. When his last appeal to the regimental commander was greeted with a hail of threats and abuse, he gave up. He ordered his remaining tanks, now down to eighteen, to

bunch up under cover of the woods. When he gave the order, they were to rush into the open area to their front, deploy on line, and attack the far tree line. He hoped they would be able to overwhelm the enemy with speed and firepower. There was nothing else to do.

Major Snow blew up when he received word to turn around and fly back to attack the target he had just been told was no longer there. Over the air he told his wingman, so that everyone on the net would hear, "Those people in flight operations have no idea what they're doing! If they wave us off one more time, we're going to go back there and bomb them." His wingman went along with the abuse of their ground controllers by recommending that they forget the mission and just bomb the controllers. Major Snow simply shook his head and turned back to the heading they had just left. Maybe, just maybe, there was something there this time.

The T-72s began to pour out of the tree line and fanned out to the left and right. Polgar was still not yet in position. With so short a distance and so few tanks to stop the Soviets, Uleski had no doubt that some of the T-72s would make it to them. He knew as they began to fire that it was going to be a hard fight this time.

As the two A- 1 Os came up to the target area, they saw numerous pillars of black smoke rising up into the sky. To the front left in the valley there was a large amount of smoke. But that wasn't where they had been directed. Further east, in a saddle between two hills there were fewer columns of smoke. That was where they were going. As the A-lOs closed on the spot, a clearing crowded with tanks appeared to their front. Neither he nor his wingman knew whose they were. Without an air controller on the ground to help, the only thing left to do was to overfly them and check them out. Commenting to his wingman that this was a hell of a way to do business, Snow dropped down and went in.

One pass was all Major Snow needed. He brought his A-10 up, circled around, and told his wingman to follow him in on the next run. The tanks were Russians'. Finally, they were going to get to kill something.

At first Uleski thought the aircraft that buzzed overhead was Soviet. It had come and gone too fast for anyone to see, not that anyone had been looking. The entire clearing was filled with T-72s. The 3rd Platoon was firing as fast as possible and receiving return fire from the advancing Soviets. When he reported the aircraft, the Team's FIST came back and told him that they should be A-lOs that had been requested. Not sure, Uleski continued with the business at hand and hoped for the best.

The A-IOs came in from behind the Soviets and opened up with their 30mm cannons. In a shower of armor-piercing and HE shells, several T-72s blew up. As the two A-IOs overflew the west side of the tree line Snow noticed the American tanks there firing on the Soviets.

He cautioned his wingman to

watch out for them. There was only two hundred meters between the U.S. and the Soviet tanks. This was truly close air support.

By the time Bannon arrived on the scene it was all over. Coming up next to 55 from behind, he stopped and surveyed the open area. There were at least fifteen T-72s burning to the front. Looking down the tree line he could see that one of the 3rd Platoon tanks was also burning. After making sure that the Soviets had really broken off the attack, Bannon dismounted and ran over to 55. Uleski was just getting over the shock of having been in such a near thing. One Soviet tank had managed to reach a point less than fifty meters from 55. He quickly pulled himself together and reported what had happened and the status of the Team. Satisfied that Uleski had the situation well in hand and that the Soviets wouldn't be coming back this way, Bannon reported to Major Jordan and cancelled the order for 2nd Platoon to come up. As he waited for new orders, he went over the morning's events in his mind. It wasn't even noon and already the Team had been in four different engagements and had lost three tanks. The mission of the battalion had been changed, and instead of being the lead battalion in the attack, it was now defending the flanks. It was shaping up to be a hell of a day.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

"They Came, in the Same Old Way."

The Team sat in its positions, collectively catching its breath and awaiting orders. Slowly, almost unnoticed, a new and unexpected enemy made its appearance: a forest fire. That it happened should not have been a surprise. The tracer elements in the main gun and machine-gun rounds, aided by burning tanks, were more than enough to set the dry foliage aflame. In high-tech fighting machines it is easy to forget that each action and activity affected everything it touched, manmade and natural. Wrapped in a million-dollar tank, it's easy to forget the natural laws that drive the universe.

At first no one noticed the burning trees and shrubbery. Fire had become a common sight after an engagement. Slowly, however, the fire began to grow, as ruptured fuel cells spread their burning contents. Flames from the two tanks that Polgar's men had destroyed in the first engagement ignited the tree branches that hung over them. In a surprisingly short period, the 3rd Platoon found itself between two growing fires.

Bannon stood upright in the cupola and surveyed the growing fire to the rear. Uleski, who had been keeping a watch to the front, saw his commander and turned to see what he was studying so intently. With a single glance, he

understood Bannon's concerns. Without using call signs or names, Uleski came up on the Team net, "YOU THINKING WHAT I'M THINKING7-OVER." Turning toward 55 and facing the XO, Bannon simply nodded his head yes.

The flames continued to spread. There had not been any appreciable rain for weeks, making the trees and undergrowth grade-A kindling. Knowing the Team had no choice and not bothering to call battalion or explain why, Bannon ordered the 3rd Platoon and the Mech to pack up and move out. Like Uleski, Gerry Garger turned to his rear and immediately realized what was happening.

The move was going to be hazardous. To start, the two platoons could not back away from the tree line into the woods before turning around. The fire had spread too far for that.

Instead, they were going to have to move forward into the open and turn, flanking themselves to any enemy force that might still be to their front. Once clear of that hazard, the tracks had to

pick their way slowly through the trees back to the valley. Movement therefore was not only going to be slow, it was going to be potentially dangerous: One error by a driver or TC could cause a tank to lose its track. The crew of 66 already knew about that danger. At the rate the fire was moving, a tank would have little chance of being recovered if it lost a track.

No attempt was made to establish an orderly withdrawal. Bannon ordered the Mech Platoon to move on its own to a rally point where the 2nd Platoon was already sitting in reserve.

Uleski and 66 sat overwatching the move of the

3rd Platoon as they began to move. The air, already oppressively hot from the fire and thick with choking smoke from burning wood, diesel, rubber, and flesh, was filled with tension as the first of the 3rd Platoon tanks rolled into the open. Folk had his eye glued to his sight as he slowly traversed the turret watching for any hint of movement from the far side of the clearing. Once Bannon was satisfied that there was no one on the other side who would do anything to his command, he signaled Uleski to begin his move. Tank 66 stayed in place for another minute, watching the far tree line, then joined the withdrawal behind 55.

The movement through the woods was agonizingly slow for Garger. Even though the platoon had moved forward into positions by creeping along between trees as they were now, it had taken less time, or so it seemed. He did not like the idea of being caught in the middle of a forest fire in a tank loaded with ammunition and diesel. He really didn't know what would happen if the forest fire engulfed the tank. No one did. That wasn't something they taught you at Fort Knox. He had no intention, however, of finding out. Sticking one's ass out to fight the Russians was one thing. He knew the odds then and could do something about it. Letting yourself get overrun by a forest fire was something else. It was an unnecessary risk that Garger was glad they were going to avoid, provided the tanks reached the valley before the fire reached them.

As 31 crept along, Garger leaned over, watching as the driver carefully picked his way through the woods. Tank 31 was following in the 32 tank's path. As the lead tank, 32 had the task of blazing the trail. The most difficult part for 31's crew was to maintain their calm and not crowd 32. This was easier said than done. When he wasn't watching the drive, Garger was glancing between the approaching fire and 32. He had to restrain himself from egging 32 on over the radio. That would serve no useful purpose other than to make the rest of the platoon more nervous. So he held his tongue and kept watching as 32 plodded ahead at an unnerving three miles an hour.

The whine of M-113s to his right momentarily diverted his attention. The smaller and more agile tracks of the Mech Platoon were making better time. The drivers were running at a good pace, weaving between the trees like skiers dashing between poles in a downhill race. When Polgar went by, he waved to Garger. The lieutenant returned the wave, then pointed at the approaching fire. Polgar acknowledged the lieutenant's problem with a nod and a thumbs up before the M-113s disappeared to the front of the column.

Some say leadership is the art of motivating men to accomplish a mission or do something that they might not

otherwise do. That sounds great in a textbook. As 66 slowly inched along behind 55 in an effort to escape the spreading forest fire, Bannon came up with a few new definitions of leadership. The one that appeared to be most appropriate at that particular moment was something along the lines that a leader was the first man in the unit to put his buns out on the line, and the last to pull them in. As 66 continued its maddeningly slow move through the woods, he wondered if those buns weren't going to get overdone this time.

To take his mind off 66's dilemma, he switched the radio to the battalion net and called Major Jordan in order to inform him of the Team's move. Not surprisingly, instead of contacting the major himself, Bannon found himself conversing with a slow-talking radiotelephone operator who answered for the major. Getting an RTO is like getting a new secretary for a major corporation. You know that your message is going to be screwed up even if it finds its way to the right person. His conversation with the major's RTO was a case in point.

First, the man didn't know the proper call signs, insisting that Bannon identify himself fully before letting him proceed with the message. Once he

accepted the fact that Bannon really did belong on the battalion net, he couldn't find the major. He had no idea where the major had gone but said that he would take a message and pass it on. Next, Bannon had to repeat the message twice before the RTO got it down. It was no big message. All he had to do was tell the major that a forest fire had forced Team Yankee to move and that the Team was now en route to the 2nd Platoon's location. Simple.

When the RTO finally read the message back slowly and correctly, he made Bannon authenticate to make sure that he wasn't the enemy. This situation, the company commander trying to get a message through a slow-witted RTO, is common and sometimes funny when it is in the past tense. In the present, however, it is extremely frustrating and unnerving. On one end of the radio is a man in danger, wanting to pass a message rapidly or requesting orders or seeking support. On the other end is a class-three moron sitting snug and secure

in a command track, learning how to use a radio for the first time and mad because the radio call interrupted his lunch. A leader can know no greater frustration than this.

Bannon had no sooner cleared his mind of the painfully slow radio conversation with the RTO when the same man came back and told him that the request was denied and that the Team was to stay in place until the major came to the position and saw what was wrong.

Bannon was livid. How the RTO had managed to screw up the message in less than five minutes was beyond him. He didn't give the RTO another chance. Controlling himself, Bannon told the RTO to get the major and have him call immediately. By the time he finished with the RTO the second time, 55 was beginning to clear the forest and reenter the valley. It came none too soon. The 66 came out of the forest just as the fire began to spread above the tank. A few more minutes would have been a few too many. Once again, luck and timing were on Team Yankee's side.

It was early afternoon before Major Jordan made it up to the Team's position. The two platoons that had escaped the fire established themselves in the tree line on either side of 2nd Platoon. The fire had been momentarily stopped by some old fire breaks. The tank positioned nearest the fire, however, had the task of keeping an eye out in that direction for any spread of the flames.

The Team spent the time unwinding and taking care of personal needs. It had been on the move or in combat for almost nine hours when it finally pulled in with the 2nd Platoon. The emotional roller-coaster ride and physical efforts of the morning left everyone in a slight stupor. The crews moved at

half-speed and with a deliberation that put one in mind of a drunkard. Before the Team could be of -any use to anyone, the men, including Bannon, needed a break.

Major Jordan found Bannon sitting against a tree behind 66, eating some dehydrated rations, and drinking from a canteen. He was stripped to the waist, his gear in a tangled heap next to him. He remained where he was as Jordan approached. He noted that the major was also suffering from

fatigue. When he reached Bannon, he stood and looked down. Then, without a word, Jordan dropped down and took off some of his gear and helmet. Bannon handed him a canteen without a word, and he took it and drank from it without a word. The two sat there in silence for a moment, both with their backs against the tree, watching the men in Team Yankee go about their business.

"Sean, it's been a hell of a day so far. A hell of a day." "So far? You got some cheery news that's going to make my day or something?"

"I just got done talking with the brigade commander. He told me that the battalion had done a great job and how he was proud to have it in his command. Then he went on to tell me that he had all the confidence in the world that I would do well as its commander."

"Oh oh. Sounds to me, major, like the Old Man was setting the battalion up for a hummer of a job. You got something you're trying to tell this broken down tanker?"

"'Fraid so, Sean. It seems like the tanks we were hit by were only part of a Soviet tank regiment. Division and brigade seem to think that the rest of that regiment is going to try to stop the division's attack again tonight. The brigade commander feels that since we did such a good job with the lead battalion, we should be allowed to finish off the regiment. "

"Bully for us. Did anyone tell you how and where?"

"The where is easy. Everyone thinks they'll attack through the Langen Gap, just north of here.

The how is up to us."

"You got any brilliant ideas yet, sir?"

"Not yet. That's why I came here to talk to you. I figure between the two of us we can come up with something."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir. My daddy always said misery enjoys company.

Lunch, however, has a higher priority. Care to join me?" "Hell, why not. I need some time to get myself together. After spending the last two hours down in the valley sorting out the rest of the battalion, I

know what General Terry felt like when he found Custer and the 7th Cavalry at the Little Bighorn."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't envy your position. "

"Sean, save the saddle soap and pass me some food."

For a few minutes, the events of the morning were allowed to pass as the two officers munched on dehydrated foods. Just as it is necessary for the body to digest a meal, the mind had to be allowed to sort out events and images. For most of Team Yankee, the morning events were not new. If anything, some of the men were becoming a little too casual about the death and destruction that surrounded them. For Major Jordan, however, this morning was his baptism by fire. He was experiencing now what Bannon had gone through during the Hill 214 debacle. Bannon thought that the major had come to the Team to escape the horror show in the valley and to find someone with whom to share his new burden.

The afternoon was passing quietly. Only the distant rumble of artillery and an occasional crack from a tank cannon to the north broke the stillness. The bright day had given way to clouds and a cool wind coming from the west, foreshadowing a coming storm. In the Team area the crews were moving about, checking their tracks, cleaning weapons, or redistributing ammunition between tanks.

There wasn't much talking or shouting. Very little motion was wasted. A casual observer would not be able to determine who was in charge of the Team. Officers and NCOs were just as dirty and just as busy, except for Bannon, as the rest of the crew. The men knew what had to be done and did it. No shouting, no unnecessary rushing about. The Team, through habits born from countless hours of training and drills, was preparing for its next battle.

When they had finished their meal, the major and Bannon unfolded a map and laid it out on the ground. From a prone position, Bannon studied the map as the major went over the information he had received from brigade. The Langen Gap was actually a small valley running from east to west, connecting the main valley the battalion was in and the valley to the east where the Soviet tank regiment was located. The town of Langen itself was in the center of the gap with high ground to the north and south.

After studying the terrain, they discussed the various ways the Soviets could come. Both were in agreement that they probably would not try sneaking through the woods again. They had already tried that and failed miserably. Odds were, they would try to bull through this time. Hence division's and brigade's belief that they would use the Langen Gap, a conclusion that both Jordan and Bannon concurred with. If the Soviets did come through the gap, they would be forced to go north or south of the village. Thus, the village provided a natural strongpoint if needed. In the gap itself there were few natural positions, other than Langen, from which the battalion could defend. They couldn't and wouldn't put the whole battalion in the town of Langen itself. From the beginning it was decided that D company, along with the remnants of C company, would defend from Langen. It was the positioning of the two teams that was difficult. If they were deployed on the east slopes of the hills north and south of Langen, they would be out on their own and exposed to Soviet artillery and supporting fires. A team deployed on the southern slope of Hill 358 would be masked by the town of Langen and at too great a range to be of much use. There were very few options.

After some additional discussion, the major decided that they would go with a reverse slope defense. It would be risky but there seemed to be little choice. It was the only way they could protect the force and deploy everyone where the entire battalion would be mutually supporting. Team Yankee, with its eight tanks, the Mech Platoon, and two ITVs would deploy south of Langen on the high ground facing northwest. Team Bravo, with four tanks, a mech platoon, and two ITVs would be situated northeast of Langen facing southwest. Two ITVs would set up on the lower slopes of Hill 358 facing southeast and D company would hold the eastern portion of Langen and face east. In this way, as the enemy force approached Langen and turned either north or south, it would be hit in both flanks. Major Jordan anticipated that the Soviets would turn south, which is why Team Yankee and the majority of the tanks went there. However, Bannon was given a contingency mission to attack into their flank if the Soviets turned north.

In addition to normal artillery fire support, the brigade was allocating several artillery-delivered scatterable minefields to the battalion. The mines, contained in an artillery projectile, were released after firing over a wide area. As soon as the mines landed, they armed automatically. While not powerful enough in most cases to kill a tank, these artillery-delivered mines could easily immobilize them by destroying the tracks, slow others, and cause confusion. The plan was to save the scatterable mines until they knew for certain where the Soviets were going and then drop them right on top of the tanks that were being engaged. In addition to the teams and D company, the Scout Platoon with its five Bradleys would be deployed well forward as a combat outpost. The scouts were to engage the Soviets early, stripping away any security elements they might have in front and causing them to deploy early. When the Soviet return fire became too intense, they would pull north into the woods and let the Soviets pass. When the time appeared to be right, they would come back out of hiding and snipe at the Soviet rear or flanks. After dividing the battalion up into kill zones and doing some initial plotting of artillery, Major Jordan ordered Bannon to recon Team Yankee's position. He was going to call forward the other commanders and have them meet him in Langen. There he would issue their instructions and allow them to recon the area. He wanted the battalion to be in place and ready by 1800 hours. While it would have been possible for Team Yankee and Team Bravo to move then, D company still needed time to sort itself out. Until the battalion was in place, the Scout Platoon would be the only force in the gap.

The move into the Team's positions south of Langen did not take long. By 1700 hours it was settled in and preparing positions. Although the brigade could not provide the battalion with replacements to make good its losses in men and equipment, they sent something to them almost as good. A company of engineers with heavy equipment arrived in Langen shortly after the battalion. The major immediately put them to work digging positions for the two teams and an antitank ditch running from Langen to the northeast.

Chances were that it would never be finished, but the visible presence of even a partially completed ditch might be enough to cause the Soviets to shy away from the northern route and go south, where the major wanted them. Besides the digging, a squad of engineers assisted D company in setting up a protective minefield in front of Langen. If used correctly before a battle, a platoon of engineers with heavy equipment can be more valuable than a company of tanks.

The Team was deployed along the tree line south of Langen facing the village. Provided the Soviets obliged them, they would be facing the left flank as the Russians moved to the southwest. The northernmost unit was the Mech Platoon stationed at the northern tip of the forest and hill. They were placed there to protect the Team's blind side and prevent dismounted infantry from rolling up their right flank. Next in line was Uleski in the 55 tank between the Mech Platoon and the 2nd Platoon. The 2nd Platoon was to his left.

Bannon placed the 66 tank next and put 3rd Platoon to the left. Garger in the 31 tank was on the Team's far left. During the afternoon, Major Jordan had done some reshuffling of the battalion's task organization based on his recon. The two ITVs Team Yankee was supposed to have were taken away. Instead, they were placed on Hill 358. The major felt the ITVs would have better fields of fire from the hill. Because the battalion fire-support officer had been killed when the command group had been hit, Lieutenant Plesset, Team Yankee's FIST, was taken by Major Jordan to fill in as the battalion's FSO. As in the first battle, Bannon would have to go through battalion to request artillery. This time, however, it would not be as difficult. There were a very limited number of options open to the Team and the Soviets, and all were covered with preplanned target reference points.

The battalion was in place and ready by 1800. Shortly after that a series of showers, hard summer downpours, began. The sky blackened, and the rain came in sheets. At first it was a welcome relief. After twenty minutes, however, it started to become a hindrance. The engineers digging the antitank ditch and positions found themselves fighting mud as well as time. The tedious job of emplacing the minefield became a miserable one as well. The hastily dug foxholes of

the Mech Platoon rapidly filled with water, forcing the occupants to abandon them and seek shelter in the PCs when they could.

Everyone who didn't need to be outside sought shelter in the tracks. The infantry company in the town, with the exception of those people working in

the minefield, was lucky. They were able to improve their positions in the buildings and remain dry. By the time the last shower passed through at 2000 hours, any joy the men in the battalion had felt over the break in the summer heat had been washed away and replaced by mumbled complaints about the cold, the damp, and the mud.

The rain did have one beneficial effect. By coming late in the day it cooled down everything that was not generating heat. This would increase the effectiveness of the thermal sights.

The attacking Soviet tanks would be hot and would present clear thermal images against the cool natural backdrop.

While the engineers would continue to work until all light was gone, the battalion was set and as ready as it would ever be. All it had to do now was wait. The tank crews, the infantrymen in the town and on the hills, the scouts, the ITV crewmen, the battalion's heavy mortar men, and the numerous staff and support people that kept the battalion going settled in to wait.

The Team, like the rest of the battalion, went to halfmanning during the wait. The scouts, deployed in the path of any Soviet advance, would be able to give them at least five minutes warning. Uleski took the first watch for the Team while Bannon got some sleep. At first Uleski found staying awake easy. The cold and the damp coupled with the nervous anticipation kept him alert for the first hour, but boredom and exhaustion soon overtook him.

By

2330 hours he was struggling to stay awake and losing. Uleski would shift his weight from one foot to another, shake himself out, and then lean against the side of the turret every five minutes or so. Inevitably, however, he would drop off momentarily, awakening only when his head fell forward and crashed into the M2 machine gun mount.

Just before midnight, he gave up his efforts and roused his gunner to replace him in the cupola. The loader replaced the driver. When Gwent was ready, Uleski told him he was going to check the line, wake up the CO, and come back to get some sleep.

As he moved down the line, starting with the Mech Platoon, he was glad to see that the rest of the Team had been able to remain more alert than he had. At each point he was challenged. In the Mech Platoon's area he ran into Sergeant Polgar, who never seemed to sleep. He was always moving around checking on something or someone. Uleski didn't know how he did it. The only way one could tell that Polgar was tired was to listen to him speak. His normally slow southern accent became a little slower when he was tired. When Polgar sounded like a 45 record being played at 33, it was a sure sign that the sergeant was exhausted.

At 66, Ulerki found Bannon stretched out on top of 66's turret asleep. Looking at Bannon nestled on top of the camouflage net with the loader's CVC on, Uleski was at first reluctant to wake his commander. He was too tired, however, to be that kind. When Bannon was awake and coherent, Uleski updated him. Not that there was anything to report. Nothing had come over the battalion or team radio nets since radio listening silence had gone into effect.

All was quiet.

Bannon was about to tell his XO to go back to his tank and get some rest when a massive volley of artillery rounds impacted in Langen and on the east side of the hill Team Yankee was on. The flash from the impacts lit up

the sky. Division and brigade had been right. The Soviets were coming through the gap. In very short order they would find out if the major had guessed right and come up with a winning solution.

The men of the Mech Platoon scrambled into their positions as the Soviet artillery continued to crash into the east side of the hill two hundred meters to their left. The water in their foxholes had long since dissipated, but the mud had not. Wherever the infantrymen made contact with the ground, the mud clung to them and soaked through to their skins.

In spite of the discomfort and fear caused by their environment and imminent attack, they prepared for battle. The riflemen checked their magazines, tapping them against their helmets to ensure that the rounds were properly seated. They loaded their weapons, chambered a round, took their weapons off safe, and placed the barrel on the stake placed along their principal direction of fire. Grenadiers checked the function of their grenade launchers and chambered their first rounds. Machine gunners checked the ammo to ensure that it was clean, dry, and ready to feed. Dragon gunners switched on their thermal sights, checked their systems, and began to scan their areas for targets.

Polgar went along the line, stopping at each foxhole. To each soldier he gave his final instructions. When he came to a squad leader he required him to repeat his orders. The image of their platoon leader, illuminated by the flashes from impacting artillery, squatting above their foxhole as he calmly gave them instructions, served to steady those who were nervous. His confident and businesslike manner was contagious and bound the Platoon into a usable weapon.

The tankers also prepared for their ordeal. The outcome of this fight would be determined by them. The ITVs and the Scout Platoon, firing their TOW antitank guided missiles, and the infantry with their Dragons would contribute. Every gun counted. The fast-firing M68AI 105mm tank cannon, however, would be the prime killer. Capable of firing eight aimed rounds per minute, the tanks would account for eight out of ten kills that night. The tank and the crew has but one reason to exist. To feed the tank's cannon. All else takes a distant second. Loaders opened their ammo doors to

ensure that the rounds were placed in the order they wanted. They would be fighting tanks tonight so the majority of the rounds fired would be the armor-piercing fin-stabilized discarding SABOT rounds with their long needle-like projectiles. Satisfied that the ammo was ready, the loaders closed the doors and checked that the turret floor was clear. In the heat of battle, it would not do to have things clutter the turret. The spent shell casings would be more than enough of a challenge to the loader.

The gunners checked their thermal sights, adjusting the contrast and clarity of the image to obtain the best possible sight picture. They checked their computer settings and functions to ensure the fire-control system was ready and operating. Tank commanders sat perched in their cupolas, alternately watching their crews as they prepared for battle and scanning the tank's assigned sectors. When all was ready, a TC would turn to his wingman and wave until the wingman acknowledged him. With their weapons ready, the men of Team Yankee prepared mentally for their ordeal, each in his own way. Most said a prayer. Many of the men had forgotten how to do so. Technology was so much easier to grasp than the concept of a divine being. But war had been a humbling experience, stripping most of the men in the Team of their smug pretenses. The awesome spectacle of war and everpresent death brought each man face-to-face with himself, for many for the first time in their lives. Most found they lacked something; they felt an emptiness. Along the line, men found comfort in beliefs long dormant. In the shadow of death, amidst the violence of the coming attack, simple, heartfelt prayers completed the Team's preparation for battle.

The scouts reported the appearance of the Soviets. They were advancing in company columns, waiting until the last minute to deploy. This made it easy for the scouts to divide up the Soviet formation and engage their tanks without interfering with each other. The scouts began their battle drill, firing, moving, firing, moving. Engaging at maximum range and calling for supporting artillery fires, the scouts began the grim business of the night. The Soviets tried hard to ignore the scouts, for they knew that they were not the main force. To stop and engage the scouts would prevent their reaching the valley and accomplishing their mission.

The scouts were persistent. Just as a single mosquito can keep a full-grown man from sleeping, the Scout Platoon drew some of the Soviets away from their mission. A company of tanks peeled out from the formation and began to engage the scouts. In accordance with their instructions, the scouts fired a few more rounds to draw their attackers farther away from the advancing regiment. Then, they disappeared into the darkness. The Soviets knew that the scouts were still out there. The night betrayed no tell-tale fires from burning tracks. The Soviet commander found himself with ten fewer tanks and the need to keep looking over his shoulder as he began to pass between the two hill masses and turn southwest.

To the men in Team Yankee the Soviet advance was an awesome spectacle. They watched the Soviets pass to their front. The fires started in Langen silhouetted the Soviet tanks as they completed their deployment. The tank regiment was now in columns of companies, each company in line, one behind the other. As the lead company began to pass to the south of Langen, Major Jordan called for the scatterable minefields.

Amidst the noise of the Soviet artillery fire, the U.S. artillery-delivered mines arrived almost unnoticed. That is, until Soviet tanks began to run over them. The Soviet officers knew about scatterable mines, and they knew their capabilities. There wasn't anything the Soviets didn't know about the American military. But to have knowledge about a weapon system does not always mean that you know what to do about it when you encounter that weapon. The manner in which the Soviets dealt with the scatterable minefields was a case, in point.

Tanks began to hit the mines and stop. Commanders at first thought they were under fire but saw no tell-tale gun or missile launcher flash. As more tanks hit the mines, the other tanks began to slow down. A minefield. An unexpected inconvenience but one that the Soviet commanders could deal with. With a single order, the companies began to reform into columns behind the tanks equipped with mine plows and rollers. Once the tanks were out of the minefield, they could redeploy and continue as before. Soviet battle drill is good, and it is precise.

It was at this point, when the Soviets were in the midst of redeploying, that Major Jordan ordered the ITVs, D company, and Team Bravo to open fire. The sudden mass volley caught the Soviets off-guard. They had thought that once

they had cleared the choke point between the two hills and had begun to bypass Langen, there would be no stopping them. After all, the choke point was the logical place to defend, not after. Confusion, both in the Soviet battle formation caught in the middle of redeploying and in the minds of commanders faced with an unexpected problem, became worse as the Soviet tank company commanders and platoon leaders began to die.

With the Soviets thrashing about in the open, Jordan directed the artillery to switch to firing dual-purpose improved conventional ammunition, or DPICM. Like the scatterable mine, the artillery projectiles were loaded with many small submunitions. The submunitions in DPICM, however, were bomblets that exploded on contact and were designed to penetrate the thin armor covering the top of armored vehicles. Confusion now began to degenerate into pandemonium. Some tanks simply stopped and began to fire into Langen. Others tried to carry out the last orders given and form into column. Tanks from the second tank battalion of the regiment still in the gap between the hills charged directly toward Langen and ran afoul of the minefields laid by the engineers and infantry. Some tanks simply turned and tried to go back, a few headed toward the woods where Team Yankee was, thinking the silent tree line offered safe haven.

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.

But the Team did not have to help them by flaunting the move in broad daylight. Even with the move several hours off, the leadership and men were busy. Bannon gave Uleski his instructions on organization, rearming, refueling, and other such details. He also gave him all the information, on when the Team was to move, its route, and final destination. Bannon would be taking the first sergeant's track and going to the headquarters of the I st of 4th to get additional information and, he hoped, an operations order. If he wasn't back in time, the XO was to start the move without him. They were, no doubt, going to be attacking again. The sooner he found out the how and where, the more time he had to plan and get the Team ready.

The trip to the 1 st of the 4th's headquarters took him back into the main valley that the Team had advanced into the previous day and through the town of Korberg. The valley had changed overnight. Its emptiness and lack of activity were replaced with the hustle of the division's combat service support elements. Convoys of trucks carrying fuel, munitions, and other supplies forward were passed by empty trucks coming back. There were the grim reminders of the cost of progress. A field hospital was set up outside Korberg, receiving new material in a never-ending flow. Bannon had no doubt that some of the people there were his. Commanders kept doctors busy. He also knew that soon he would be contributing to the flow again. As he moved farther north he saw more than enough evidence that 1 st of the

4th had had no easy time after they had passed through 1st of the 78th. M-Is, PCs, Soviet tanks, and smashed trucks attested to the severity of their fight. Maintenance recovery teams were busy retrieving those tanks that could be repaired. As he passed a maintenance collection point he recognized several of the mechanics from I st of the 4th.

They were trying to piece together recovered tracks in an effort to get tanks and PCs ready for the next attack.

Were it not for the efforts of these people, many of the units still in the fight, including Team Yankee, would have ceased to exist a long time ago.

Bannon found both Lieutenant Colonel Hill, the battalion commander, and Major Shell at the battalion TOG. Along with the battalion intelligence officer, Capt. Ken Damato, they were discussing the upcoming operation in front of the intelligence map. Bannon stood in the background for a moment and listened. Apparently, they had already developed the plan and were merely getting an update on enemy units recently reported entering the area of operations and their activities. Damato was pointing out several Soviet battalion-sized units northeast of the Saale that had been located and were being tracked. Across the top of the intelligence map in the area north of the river someone had put in large red letters "HERE

BE RUSSIANS." Major Shell saw Bannon first, "Well, here's the hero himself now. Glad to see the infantry finally let you go."

Bannon went up to the map where greetings were exchanged. The three officers were haggard and tired. Without any further ado, Colonel Hill asked how much he knew of the upcoming operation. Bannon informed him that other than the fact that he had been told where and when to report, nothing. The colonel told Major Shell and Damato to go over the operation with him. When they were finished, Bannon was then to report to him. The colonel was going to wash up in the meantime.

The operation that Major Shell laid out before Bannon was nothing more than a continuation of the attack toward the Saale. There were a few new twists, but basically it was the same.

At that time 2nd of the 94th Mech Infantry was attacking through the Soviets' main defensive belt, which was not nearly as impressive as the Soviet defensive doctrine called for but was enough to grind up the 2nd of the 94th. Progress was slow and the commander and brigade did not believe that battalion would make it to the Saale. That's where the 1st of the 4th came in. Since being

bypassed by the 2nd of the 94th early that morning, 1st of the 4th had been preparing for a river-crossing operation. All available assets were being concentrated in the battalion for this final push. If 2nd of the 94th did not make it to the Saale by nightfall, the plan called for the 1st of the

4th to pass through the 2nd of the 94th and continue the attack. Once at the Saale, I st of the 4th would make an assault crossing and establish a bridgehead. As soon as the engineers had a bridge in place, the lead elements of the 25th Armored Division, now in reserve, would pass through the battalion and continue the drive on Berlin. The 1st of the 4th would then assume the role of holding the flanks.

The attack of the I st of the 4th was not the only effort that would be going on that night. The 2nd Brigade would also be attempting to make an assault crossing of the Saale farther to the west. Their mission was identical to I st of the 4th1s; establish a bridgehead, allow the 25th Armored to pass, then protect the flank. It was hoped that both efforts would succeed.

The 25th Armored, however, was hedging its bets. They had one brigade following each of the river-crossing efforts. The first one across would become the main effort.

Ken Damato went over the current enemy situation. Until that morning, the Soviets had been trying to stop the division's drive through counterattacks, head-on and in the flanks. The 1 st of the 4th had fought the better part of a tank regiment the previous night after a meeting engagement in the valley. While the Soviet tank regiment had been stopped, so had the st of the 4th. That is why the 2nd of the 94th was passed through. That battalion had been fighting its way through a series of platoon and company-sized strong points since midnight.

Progress had been steady but slow and costly. Reconnaissance of the area immediately south and north of the river showed little indication that the Soviet defense had any depth.

The new enemy units identified moving into the area were believed to be fragments of shattered units being thrown in as a last resort. Therefore, the prevailing belief was that, once across the Saale, a clean breakout could be made and there would be little to stop a push to Berlin itself.

Major Shell then got drown to the details. The plan was simple. Once 2nd of the 94th had cleared the last of the Soviet positions or could no longer continue, 1 st of the 4th would pass through and charge for the river. There would be no finesse, no grandiose schemes of maneuver, just a mad dash for the river at the best possible speed. Once at the river, the battalion was not to stop but was to vault across and establish the bridgehead. The idea was to make it to the river and across before the Soviets could do anything about it.

The problem with such a simple plan was that once the battalion started rolling, the Soviets would be able to figure out where it was going and what it intended to do. While they could not keep the Soviets from figuring out its plan, they could confuse and deceive them as to where the main effort was going. The plan called for a reinforced company team to create a diversion and deceive the Soviets as to where the main effort was going to be. Major Shell stopped for a moment, looked at Bannon, and with a blank expression told him that was where Team Yankee came in.

Team Yankee, with three tank platoons, the Mech Platoon and the battalion Scout Platoon attached, would conduct a supporting attack on the battalion's right. It would be the Team's task to give the appearance that Team Yankee was the battalion's main effort by driving for a highway bridge on the Saale. While the Soviets would drop the span before the Team got there, the area near the bridge offered several excellent crossing points. A threat to that area could not be ignored. It was hoped that Team Yankee's attack would draw the Soviets'

attention and reserves while the true main effort went on farther to the west. With the exception of the point on the map where Bannon was to orient the Team's effort and instructions to make as much noise as possible, he had a free hand as to how he could go about accomplishing the mission.

Shell stopped for a moment while Bannon looked at the map and considered the task.

Bannon asked where they anticipated passing through the 2nd of the 94th. The major showed him a point about twenty kilometers south of the Saale. Bannon asked about fire support and close air support. The major pointed to several target areas that would be hit near the bridge by the Air Force at first light in order to support the deception plan. He also told him that the Team would be supported by the better part of an artillery battalion until the battalion began to cross the river. At that time, Team Yankee would lose most of its support and would have to fend for itself.

Bannon looked at the major, then the map, then back to the major. "You brought me all the way here to give me this nightmare?"

"Hey, Sean, what are friends for? We're giving you a chance to excel." Bannonfs reserve of humor was exhausted; he found nothing funny about what the Team was being asked to do.

Again, Team Yankee was going to be on its own, rolling into the unknown. He began to believe that the Light Brigade during the Crimean War had it easy. They only had to do the impossible once. Team Yankee had to do it over and over again. "If you want to give me something, give me four tanks, a dozen trained infantry replacements, fuel, ammunition, and a four-day rest in the rear. Do you know what kind of shape the Team is in?"

Major Shell sensed the change in mood and became deadly serious, "Sean, you saw, I'm sure, the burned-out tracks along the battalion's route of advance. We're all in bad shape, and we aren't going to get any stronger. Our war reserves in Europe have been used up and there are no more. It will be another month before the Guard and Reserve units get over here. If we wait for them, the war will be over. We either do it now with what we have or we lose. It's that simple. "

Bannon bent his head down for a moment, looked at his boots, and considered what Major Shell had said before answering, "I know, I know. Major Jordan went over the same thing with me before I came here. It's just that since the war broke out, the Team has been getting the smelly end of the stick every time we turn around. Everyone, including me, is getting tired of putting his nuts out on the chopping block whenever a new mission comes up. So far we have been lucky, damned lucky. That luck isn't going to last, though.

One of these times the Russians are going to come down fast and cut us up.

Why can't someone else get a chance to excel?"

"Sean, whether or not you know it, your Team has one hell of a reputation. When the Old Man was given this mission by brigade, Colonel Brunn specifically designated Team Yankee as the force to conduct the supporting attack. Everyone agreed that your Team was the one that could pull it off if anyone could. You're it. You can moan and groan all you want, but in the end, you've got the mission."

The rest of the meeting was conducted in a curt, businesslike manner. Shell provided additional details, answered Bannon's questions, and asked if there was anything he needed. Bannon pointed out that in the future he could save the saddle soap and come up with easier missions. When they were finished in the TOG, Bannon went over to the battalion commander and talked with him for a few minutes about the condition of the Team and the mission. There was no point going over arguments for letting someone else take the job.

The decision was made, and he wasn't going to get it changed at this late date. All Bannon could do now was give the commander a "yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full" and drive on.

There was much to be done and not much time.

Before he returned to the Team, Bannon stopped by the assembly area where the Team would pull in before attacking. He found the Scout Platoon already in position. The platoon leader, Sergeant First Class Flores, and Bannon discussed the mission and his role. He assigned Flores the task of selecting positions for the rest of the Team in the assembly area and instructed him to provide guides when it arrived. With that taken care of, he started back for Langen and Team Yankee.

The Team never made it to the assembly area. The 2nd of the 94th, in one last push, succeeded in smashing through the Soviet's last defensive belt and destroyed a half-hearted counterattack by an understrength Soviet tank battalion. Orders came down over the Team net to move immediately to the passage point where they were met by the Scout Platoon and ground guides from the 2nd of the 94th. These guides directed Weiss's platoon to a cleared lane through a Soviet minefield that had been breached earlier. Team Yankee was now in the attack and headed for the Saale.

Once clear of the minefield, the 1st Platoon deployed into a wedge and began to pick up speed. From the cupola of his tank, Weiss surveyed the terrain to his front with the aid of his night vision goggles. There was no

sign of the enemy. He turned to his left and watched the Scout Platoon, now clear of the minefield, begin to deploy to his right. Like his platoon, it also was forming a wedge. The Mech Platoon would be coming through the minefield now. Before turning to his front, he caught sight of the 66 tank as it pulled into a position between his platoon and the scouts.

Satisfied that all was in order, Murray Weiss leaned back in the cupola and allowed himself to relax for a moment. The entire Team, after spending a relatively peaceful afternoon near Langen, had been on the run ever since the Team commander returned with its new mission. Precombat checks, preparation for the night move, boresighting the tanks, receiving the Team order, and issuing the platoon order had taken up the balance of the afternoon. Immediately after darkness had fallen, the Team moved out for its forward assembly area where it was to wait for the order to pass through the 2nd of the 94th.

Weiss was pleased with the Team's mission and the orders Bannon had issued. The Team was divided into two parts. The XO, with the 2nd and 3rd Platoons, would move along a separate route about one kilometer west of the rest of the Team. Captain Bannon, with the 1st and Scout Platoons followed by the Mech, was to advance toward a bridge on the Saale. The order to bypass all resistance and go hell for leather toward the bridge regardless of the cost pleased both Weiss and Garger. The two lieutenants were tired of being held in check and having to wait for someone else to get their shit together. Although the Team commander tried to dampen their enthusiasm, the lieutenants were thrilled that they finally were going to have a chance to do some no-holds-barred tanking.

The crack of a tank cannon and the blurted contact report from 3rd Platoon jarred Weiss back to the present. The

element with the XO had made contact. The enemy was out there. Weiss straightened up in the cupola and began to scan the horizon for them.

No one saw where it had come from. One minute there was nothing. The next minute, there it was. It was as if the BTR-60 had popped up out of the ground less than two hundred meters in front of the platoon. Without breaking pace and with one round, Blackfoot's 32 tank destroyed the BTR. Garger automatically ordered the platoon to refuse its left by going to a left echelon formation. This was done without confusion and with hardly a break in the platoon's stride. After a quick contact report to the XO, Garger turned back to his left and peered into the darkness through his night vision goggles. There was no further movement for the moment. The lone BTR, now burning, was well to the rear of the platoon as they continued to the Saale.

The 2nd Platoon, to the right, fired next. Garger whipped around to see what they were firing at. Following the tracers from the 2nd Platoon's rounds he saw several forms moving away from the advancing Team. A brilliant flash and shower of sparks followed by an eruption of flames lit up the night. One Soviet tank had been hit and destroyed. A second Russian tank, clearly illuminated by the flames from the hit tank, could be seen fleeing north. It did not make it, however. Another tank in 2nd Platoon fired and dispatched it.

"TANK-TWELVE O'CLOCK-MOVING NORTH!" At first, Garger thought that his gunner was looking at the same tank that he was looking at. Then he realized that the gun tube was still pointed to the left. He dropped down to his sight and saw the tank his gunner had found. For a moment he hesitated. B company, 1st of the 4th, was to their left. He did not want to

engage a friendly tank. Garger studied the target in his thermal sight for a moment. He could make out the turret and the tracks. It was definitely moving north. But did it belong to B

company or was it Russian? Then he noticed that the rear of the tank was dark. The exhaust from an M-I tank

is

vented out the rear, creating a tremendous heat signature. If the tank was an M-I, its rear would have

been bright green. The tank was Russian. Without further delay, Garger issued his fire command and dispatched another Soviet tank.

The young engineer lieutenant was not pleased with his orders nor with having a KGB

captain at his side overseeing him. The KGB captain and his people were supposed to be at the bridge to gather up stragglers and control movement. The young lieutenant was smart enough, however, to realize that the squat, stone-faced captain also had the task of ensuring that the people defending the bridge and preparing its destruction followed orders. Why else did the captain follow his every move and question every order the engineer gave?

The 15th Guards Tank Division was in the process of withdrawing across the Saale. The withdrawal was in great haste and confusion. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the order in which units came across. A tank unit was followed by a maintenance detachment, which in turn was followed by an artillery unit with a field hospital mixed in. To add to the confusion, the KGB would halt units at random and demand to see written orders giving them permission to withdraw to the north side of the river. Most of the units did not have these, having received orders over the radio. The KGB knew this but continued to stop units.

The thing that bothered the engineer lieutenant the most was the manner in which the KGB

dealt with stragglers. When individuals, officer and enlisted, were found to be crossing without their unit, they were taken over to the side of the road and questioned. At first, the KGB captain was called in to consider each case. After awhile, however, he tired of this and allowed a young and enthusiastic KGB lieutenant to deal with the enlisted stragglers. The captain only wanted to be called in to deal with the officers, Justice, KGB style, was quick. The engineer, at the insistence of the KGB captain, watched each series of executions. Once a straggler was determined to be a deserter, he was put into a small wooden shed at the south end of the bridge. When the shed was full, the convicted deserters were lined up next to the road, in full view of the troops moving across the bridge. The KGB lieutenant would read a statement outlining the crimes committed against the State and Party before giving the order to fire. The first time he watched, the engineer lieutenant became sick. As he bent over to throw up, the KGB

captain slapped him on the back and told him he had nothing to worry about, as long as he carried out his orders. The captain's statement was a promise, not a threat. The engineer lieutenant knew that if he blew the bridge without first receiving permission, the next time the KGB captain slapped his back, there would be a knife in his hand.

The sudden flurry of engagements stopped as rapidly as they had begun. The Team was halfway to the river and making good time. The Soviets encountered by the XO's element had been withdrawing and apparently were not interested in offering resistance. All was going well so far. Things had a nasty habit, however, of changing very rapidly. Six tanks and a couple of well-placed antitank guided missile launchers could raise hell with the Team.

Bannon expected to make contact with just such delaying forces momentarily.

The anticipation of such an event was becoming unbearable. An outright shoot-out with the Russians in the open was preferable to this rolling around in the dark waiting to be hit. His mind kept filling with worst case what ifs as the Team came to each point he had marked on his map where the Soviets could take up good delay positions. As the Team approached each point, Bannon could feel his heartbeat quicken as his body prepared for action. But nothing happened. The Team's lead elements would bypass the point and continue rolling north. Just as he managed to calm down, the next critical point would be reached, and he would again tense up in anticipation. They had to either make it to the river soon or make contact with the Russians. It really didn't matter to him. Anything was better than dealing with the stress of the unknown.

Just ahead of the element he was leading was a small town. Bannon would have preferred to bypass it but decided to send the scouts through it. Part of the Team's mission was to be noticed and running through the town was a good way to get noticed. The 1 st Platoon and the Mech were ordered to go around the town to the west and the scouts to make a high-speed dash through the center. If they ran into light resistance, they were to bull through. If the Soviets were present in strength, they were to back out and follow the rest of the Team. As the I st Platoon veered off to the left, the scouts formed on the road and raced in at a dead run. The lead scout track had no sooner entered the town when the report of its machine guns came echoing out. Flores sent a quick contact report. He had run into a Soviet recon unit in the town square and was taking it under fire as they rolled through.

Bannon reminded him that he was not to become decisively engaged and was to get out of there as soon as possible to rejoin the Team. With the din of battle clearly audible over the radio as he responded, Flores gave Bannon a curt "ROGER-OUT" and continued to fight his battle and carry out his orders. Though concerned that the scouts might not be able to extract themselves, Bannon was pleased, nonetheless, that they had run into the Soviet recon element. No doubt the Soviets would get a report back about the Team's presence, and part of the Team's mission would be accomplished thanks to the Russians themselves.

The firing just south of the river startled both the engineer lieutenant and the KGB captain.

They looked in the direction of firing, then at each other. For the first time that night, the lieutenant noted a look of concern and uncertainty on the captain's face. They both went to find the motorized rifle company commander who was charged with defending the bridge.

They had to find out what was going on.

The firing had also been heard by the soldiers attempting to cross the bridge. Not wanting to be caught on the wrong side when it was dropped by the engineers, they began to push forward. The impatience of the drivers gave way to anger when they felt the people in front were not moving quickly enough. Truck drivers began to blow their horns and bump the vehicles to their front in an effort to speed up the

crossing. This did nothing but add to the confusion and push the mass of troops and drivers near the edge of panic.

The Team was now within a few kilometers of the bridge. Bannon decided it was time to start making a lot of noise in an effort to give the appearance that they were going to attempt a crossing. He ordered the Team FIST to fire prearranged artillery concentrations on both the north and south side of the bridge. Since the bridge was gone or soon would be, the artillery fire wouldn't hurt anything. It would, however, appear to the Russians that they were firing a preparatory fire for an assault crossing. The longer and more convincing the deception, the easier it would be for the rest of the battalion.

With the first impact of artillery, the KGB captain dropped all pretense of being calm and unconcerned. The idea of facing American combat troops terrified him. He and his men knew what would happen to them if the Americans captured them. Yet he knew they could not leave the bridge without orders. To do so would be considered desertion.

After dealing with deserters all night, he knew what would be waiting if he left now. The only hope was to get permission to leave.

Both the engineer lieutenant and the KGB captain tried to make it over to the southern side of the bridge. They were, however, fighting the tide, as everyone on the south side was trying to go north. Vehicular traffic was stopped. Trucks had been hit on both sides of the river, blocking the exit on the north side and the entrance on the south. This jam was compounded by

drivers who abandoned their trucks and began to flee on foot. As they pushed their way against the flow of fleeing troops, both noticed that their men had joined the rout. At first, the lieutenant tried to stop his men and order them back. Few paid any attention as they continued to push their way ahead. The KGB captain tried a different approach. He pulled out his pistol and pointed it at his men. When one of

them kept going, he fired several times, dropping the KGB private and two other soldiers who happened to get in the line of fire. This, however, did nothing to stem the tide. The other KGB men simply gave the captain a wide berth as they continued north.

Once on the south side of the river, the lieutenant and the captain found the company commander. The commander was yelling into a radio mike but didn't seem to be getting an answer. When he saw them, he turned to the engineer and told him that the Americans were only a few kilometers away and would be there any minute. The bridge had to be dropped now. The KGB captain asked if they had received orders to do so. The commander replied that he couldn't receive orders because his radio was being jammed. The KGB captain responded that they couldn't drop the bridge until they received permission.

The commander, frustrated now, repeated that the radio was being jammed and that he could not contact anyone to get permission. He reiterated that the bridge had to be dropped now or they would lose it. The engineer joined in, saying that they had to make an immediate decision. The bridge had to go. Both he and the commander stared at the KGB captain. The KGB captain in turn looked at each of them. It was against everything he had-been taught.

He had been trained from childhood to obey orders, to avoid taking the initiative, to conform.

Now, he had to decide on his own. There was no superior to decide for him. There was no one who could share the blame if something went wrong. He had to decide for himself, and he couldn't do it. Just as the engineer and the commander began to yell at the KGB captain again, demanding permission to drop the bridge, an American 155mm artillery shell ended their debate.

As I t crested a small rise, Weiss looked down and saw the Saale. In the clear-night air, the light from the half-moon reflected from its smooth surface. They had made it. In a few more minutes, their mission would be accomplished.

He scanned the length of the river. All appeared to be calm until he saw the artillery impacts. The rounds were falling among a cluster of vehicles with their headlights on at the bridge they had been heading for. There were still Soviets on the south side of the river. A closer inspection revealed that the vehicles were mostly trucks with only a few personnel carriers mixed in. There seemed to be a great traffic jam at the entrance to the bridge and a great deal of panic. This pleased him. Nothing like an easy kill to finish the attack. "THE BRIDGE, IT'S STILL UP L.T.!"

Weiss dropped down to his sight extension and looked to see what his gunner was yelling about. It was still there! As 11 rolled down to the river, Weiss traversed the turret, studying the entire length of the bridge. It had not been dropped yet. It suddenly occurred to him that they had a chance to seize the bridge intact.

The report from 1 st Platoon was too good to be true. The Team had not only caught some Russians on the wrong side of the river, but the bridge was still up. Suddenly Bannon had to make a snap decision. Did they try for the bridge and risk having it blown up in their face or with some of the Team on it? Or did he simply stop on the south bank and let the Russians blow it

up? Whatever he decided, it had to be now. The 1 st Platoon was well on its way and would, in a few minutes, decide for him if he didn't. The Team had been ordered to divert the Soviets' attention from the battalion's main effort. Capturing a bridge intact and establishing a bridgehead here would certainly do that. Without calling battalion, he ordered 1st Platoon to go for the bridge. The scouts, coming up fast after clearing the town, were ordered to follow 1st Platoon across. The Mech Platoon was ordered to drop one squad on the south side to clear any charges on the bridge and send the rest of the Platoon across. Bannon ordered Uleski to get up to the bridge as soon as possible and send the 2nd Platoon across to join Bannon and take charge of the south side of the bridge with the 3rd Platoon and the Mech squad there. Everyone was ordered to hold their fire until they were on top of the Russians.

The 1st Platoon tanks were at point-blank range when Weiss gave the order to fire. The tanks fell in behind 11 and followed it as they all blazed away with machine guns at the fleeing Russians. All semblance of order disappeared as 11 pushed onto the bridge. Going was slow on the bridge as trucks that could not be bypassed were pushed out of the way.

Fires sprang up as fuel tanks were ignited by tracers. Russians fled into the night or simply tried to surrender to the charging tanks.

The tanks were not interested in prisoners right then. Neither was the Mech Platoon. As soon as Sergeant Polgar's track reached the south side of the bridge, he stopped and dismounted. The next track in line did likewise, dropping its ramp and disgorging its infantry squad. As the troops came piling out, Polgar yelled to the squad leader to cut all wires to the demolitions. The troops, never having done this, began to rip away at any wire they found. In the rush of the moment, one infantryman tried to cut

an

electric power line with his bayonet. He nearly electrocuted himself. Despite this, the fire from die-hard Russians, and working in the dark, the infantry managed to keep the bridge from being blown.

Once Uleski had closed up on the south side, the Team went about the task of securing the bridge, dealing with any resistance, and rounding up the Russians who wanted to surrender.

Bannon sent the Scout Platoon out as far as he dared to establish a combat outpost line.

The 1 st Platoon was deployed to the left of the main road in a quarter arc to the river. The 2nd Platoon was deployed to the right, also in an arc from the road to the river. One Mech squad stayed at the bridge's north entrance, one at the south, and the third was deployed forward on the road to set up a road block. Uleski deployed the 3rd Platoon on the south side of the river in

a

shallow semicircle.

When Bannon reported the seizure of the bridge to battalion, neither the commander nor the S-3 would believe him. They kept asking him to make sure that he was not confusing the Saale River bridge with a small bridge across a stream farther to the south. When he finally convinced them that the Team had in fact seized the main highway bridge, they gave him a wait-out while they conferred on what to do. After a couple of minutes, the battalion commander came on the net and ordered two companies to reinforce Team Yankee at the bridge. The S-3 would continue to drive to the river and conduct the crossing farther to the west as planned. The colonel shifted the main effort to the bridge to prepare for the passage of the 25th Armored Division.

As dawn began to break, Team Yankee found itself momentarily alone and out on a limb again. But there was no sign of fear or apprehension. The men went about preparing for an enemy attack that they expected but would never receive. Unknown to them, far beyond the outpost line established by the scouts, men were making decisions and issuing orders that would start the final and potentially most deadly phase of the war.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

The Day After.

When the battalion commander arrived, he began to expand the bridgehead. Team Yankee elements that were still south of the river were sent north and ordered to move forward and establish a defensive position on high ground four kilometers northeast of the bridge. B

company was sent to establish a position four kilometers north of the bridge. The scouts were sent out farther but had the same mission. Team Charlie was kept south of the river to protect the bridgehead from attack there and to mop up Soviet stragglers still running around.

The only action of the day occurred when a company of Soviet tanks came down the road from the north. The scouts let them pass, reporting their location and allowing B company to prepare for them. It was obvious that the Soviets either didn't know the bridge had fallen or thought that the battalion's positions were farther south. Whatever the reason, B company made short work of them.

By 0700 hours, the lead element of the 25th Armored Division was crossing the river. From their positions, the men in Team Yankee could watch the endless line of vehicles and troops stream north. Once the 25th had passed through B company, B company and Team Yankee were ordered to move to new positions farther east, expanding the bridgehead. Team Charlie did likewise on the south side of the river. By noon the entire battalion, minus Team Charlie, was across the river, reconsolidated and again ordered to move farther to the east.

It was during this last move that word came down from battalion for all the commanders to gather at the battalion CP. When Bannon arrived, he was greeted with a stone-cold silence by the officers who were already there. They were standing around the rear of the command track listening into a conversation the colonel was having on the radio. Bannon stopped and thought to himself, "Great, some dumb son of a bitch has come up with another nightmare of an operation."

Coming up closer, he could only catch bits and pieces of the conversation. When the colonel finished, he put down the mike, stood there a moment. Turning to the S-3, he merely said,

"Well, I guess we're fighting a new war now. "

Bannon turned to Frank Wilson, the commander of Team Charlie, "New war? What's the Old Man talking about? Did someone pop a nuke?" Frank looked at Bannon, closed his eyes, and nodded his head in the affirmative. They had crossed the nuclear threshold.

Colonel Hall came out of the track followed by Major Shell and stopped in the middle of the officers gathered. "As some of you heard, the Soviets have initiated nuclear warfare. This morning they launched an attack with a single weapon against a British city, destroying it and causing severe damage to the surrounding area. The United States and Great Britain together retaliated by striking a Soviet city with several weapons. Although there have been no further exchanges, we are to assume that the Soviets will continue to use nuclear weapons, including tactical devices." He paused for a moment to let this news sink in before he continued, "As a

result, the battalion will increase the distance between the company positions. Team Yankee will be pulled out of the line and held back as a reserve. The S-3 will provide you with details. I expect you to take all measures necessary to protect your force without losing sight of our mission."

Major Shell pulled out his map board and pointed out where each company and team was to go. Team Yankee was to pull back into reserve positions. To reduce their vulnerability and present a less lucrative target, the platoons were spread out over a wide area. After some additional instructions, the commanders and staff dispersed and went about adjusting their units and assets to deal with the new threat.

News of the use of nuclear weapons put a pall on all activities and conversations. Up to now, the war had been manageable on a personal level. The Team had been in some very tight spots but had come out in relatively good shape. The men had met the Russians face-to-face and found that they could be defeated. They had confidence in the Team's weapons, its leaders, and the Team itself. They had been sure that they would win. The initiation of nuclear war, however, was different. Not only was there nothing that the Team could do to stop it, a nuclear war threatened the United States. Their families and friends four thousand miles away were now in as much danger as they were.

It was this fear of the unknown and the feeling of hopeless despair that became Bannon's greatest challenge. As soon as the Team was in its new positions, he went to each of the platoons and gathered the men around, going over what had happened and what it meant.

He explained the possible results and what they had to do. For the most part, however, he tried hard to be upbeat in his discussions and point out that they were not entirely helpless.

The Team still had a job to do and could still influence the outcome of the war.

By evening he didn't know whether or not his efforts had had any effect. Everyone was in a quiet, reflective mood, the men talking to each other only when necessary. For the most part, each man passed the night alone with his own thoughts and fears.

Bannon too was overcome with a feeling of despair and fear. As a soldier, it was his job to know about the effects of nuclear weapons. He knew national policy and the size of the nuclear arsenals that each side had. For the first time in many days his thoughts kept turning to his family. Nightmare images crept into his mind and destroyed his ability to reason and think. The stress of the last few days, exhaustion, and now the fears brought on by the thought of an all-out nuclear war were too much for him to handle. With no one to talk to or share his feelings with, he sought escape through sleep. Like a child faced with a situation beyond his control, he withdrew from the horrors of the real world and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Stand-to the following morning reminded Bannon of the first day. It was as if the Team had gone full circle and was starting anew. In a sense, this was true. Only the distant rumble of an occasional artillery round broke the stillness of the morning. As he greeted the men during his rounds, they responded in a perfunctory manner. Uncertainty and dread underlined everything they did. The lieutenants looked to Bannon, seeking guidance or inspiration or something. They found nothing. He could see this and their disappointment when he could not give them what they needed. Even a hot breakfast, the first cooked meal served in days, did little to raise morale. Something had to be done or he feared they would all go crazy.

After the morning meal was over, Bannon called the platoon leaders in for a meeting. He decided that it would be no use trying to play the cheerleader. Instead, he took the business as usual approach. When the leaders were assembled, he went down a list of protective measures that should have already been put into effect. Such things as every man, including the tank crews, digging foxholes, turning off all but one radio in every platoon, covering all optics when not in use, camouflaging everything, and more. In addition, he warned that the platoons needed to tend to their routine maintenance and personal hygiene.

The platoon leaders at first looked at him with puzzled stares. Since the start of the war they had become loose in some of the areas he wanted to tighten up. He simply returned their stares and told them that each platoon was to inform him when they thought they were ready for inspection. At the conclusion of the meeting he turned them over to the XO and went to battalion to see if there was any news on the progress of the 25th Armored or intelligence updates.

The news at battalion was good. First, there had been no further use of nuclear weapons since the first exchange. It appeared that the Soviets had decided to try to intimidate the Europeans by taking out one of their cities with a nuclear device. Birmingham in England had been chosen for this exercise in terror. The prompt retaliation by both Britain and the U.S. against the city of Minsk was enough to demonstrate the resolve and unity of NATO.

The cherished Soviet notion that the U.S. would not risk a nuclear attack on herself to save Europe had been disproved. Just as they had understood the purpose of the Soviet attack, the Soviets understood the meaning of NATO's: NATO would trade blow for blow.

To the north, the 25th Armored Division was making good progress. The Soviets were not able to stop the drive. Furthermore, there were signs that the Warsaw Pact was beginning to break up. Ken Damato gave Bannon a copy

of

the division's intelligence summary to read. It discussed the breakout of armed insurrection, no doubt aided by U.S. Army Special Forces A teams, in Poland and East Germany. Polish units were no longer attacking. Several Soviet units in Northern Germany had surrendered en masse. Others were on the verge of doing so. Deep strikes by the Air Force were hampering the flow of supplies and the movement of troops. In short, the war was going well for NATO.

Also mentioned in the Intel summary was an analysis of the effects of the strike against Minsk. While the loss of Birmingham was a major disaster, it

would not interfere with the NATO war effort. The destruction of Minsk, however, was hampering the Soviets by severing a major communications center. The cold, analytical view of the nuclear exchange was haunting but, at the same time, welcome.

Buoyed by the news at battalion, Bannon went about the day's activities with renewed energy. Maybe things were not as bad as they seemed. As he went from platoon to platoon, he gathered the men around and passed on what news and

information he had from the outside world. For the most part, the effect on the Team was about the same as it had been on him. In addition, the return to some type of routine served to keep the men busy and oriented on the job at hand.

In the early evening the battalion was ordered to move farther to the east and establish contact with Soviet forces. A battalion order was prepared and issued to the team commanders at 2100 hours. Team Yankee was to remain in reserve, following the rest of the battalion as it moved forward. Ken Damato expected to make contact about ten to fifteen kilometers to the east of their current front line trace. Time for the movement was 0300 hours. The news of the new mission was welcomed by just about everyone in the Team. The rest had been good and the reorganization and maintenance needed. But everyone wanted to get on with it. They knew the sooner they got moving, the sooner the issue would be decided. The Team was as Americans have always been, anxious to avoid a war but when forced to fight, anxious to get on with it and finish it rapidly.

Without an artillery preparation, the lead elements of the battalion moved out. The steady advance was hindered only by Soviet recon units that fired and fled. Dawn of the thirteenth day of war found the battalion still moving to the east. After an advance of fifteen kilometers they were ordered to halt. While they had not made contact with the Soviets' main forces yet, division did not want to go too far. The main effort was still aimed for Berlin. There were few forces available to protect the flanks of that drive and there was no need to spread them too thin.

The battalion was again dispersed over as wide an area as possible so as to reduce its vulnerability to a nuclear attack. Team Yankee stayed in reserve. Once the Team was in its position, it settled in and prepared for another day. Foxholes were dug, camouflage placed, fighting and hide positions improved, platoon fire plans prepared, and numerous other tasks accomplished. By noon, they were ready and went to half-manning.

When Bannon was satisfied that all was in

order, he lay down in the first sergeant's PC and went to sleep.

At 1700 hours, First Sergeant Harrert woke him to tell him that he was wanted at the battalion CP immediately. As Bannon stumbled around, still half-asleep, he asked if the first sergeant knew what was up. The first sergeant replied negative. The S-3 wouldn't tell him.

The only message was to get up to the CP ASAP.

His feeling of dread dispersed as soon as he walked into the farmhouse where the CP was located. Everyone was going around the room shaking each other's hands as if it was an alumni reunion. Bannon went up to Frank Wilson and asked what was going on.

"Haven't you been told? The Soviets have declared a cease-fire effective midnight tonight.

They're throwing in the towel. It's over." He stood there for a moment. Just like that, the war was over. It was too good to be true. Something had to be wrong. "You mean they are surrendering? Now? Without our even touching the Soviet Union?" "Something like that. We don't have all the details yet but from what we heard, the Soviet leadership has changed and they want an immediate end to the war."

The colonel entered the room followed by the S-3 and the battalion XO. The XO called the meeting to order. Colonel Hill went over the information he had and what he thought. He tried hard to be cautious and keep from becoming carried away by commenting that the cease-fire wasn't in effect yet and that things could change rapidly. But he, like the commanders and staff assembled, was optimistic and overjoyed with the prospect of peace. He was followed by Ken Damato, the S-2, who gave a brief summary on the current enemy situation and pointed out some of the dangers they had to guard against once the cease-fire was in effect. The biggest one was from sabotage and espionage from line crossers and the local populace. They were, he reminded them, still in Communist East Germany. Major Shell followed and explained the rules of engagement that were to be placed into effect once the cease-fire became official. Warsaw Pact forces were not to come any closer to NATO positions than 1000 meters. If they continued to advance, they were to be engaged. All NATO soldiers had the right to protect themselves and return fire if fired upon. Effective at midnight, NATO forces were not to move any farther than the front line trace they had achieved as of that time. The NATO commander had ordered that all operations currently in progress were to continue until then. Communications with any Warsaw Pact forces were forbidden unless permission was obtained. The S-3

finished by saying that copies of the rules of engagement for distribution down to platoon level would be ready soon. The colonel finished the meeting by cautioning everyone against becoming too optimistic and especially against letting down their guard. They were still at war and the cease-fire could fail at any moment.

The sun was beginning to settle in the west as Bannon rolled back to the Team's area. At his back the sky was alive with brilliant reds and purples. The beauty of the lush green German landscape, unfolding before him, coupled with the spectacle of the setting sun and the quiet early night air lifted Bannonfs spirit to a height that he had not experienced in months. The driver knew the way back, leaving him free to reflect on the joy of the moment. It was over.

His worst nightmare was over and he had survived. There would be a tomorrow and he would see it. With nothing more weighty on

his mind than such thoughts, he relaxed and enjoyed the beauty of the countryside he had not seen before.

The leadership of Team Yankee was waiting at the Team CP when he came rolling in. They had become accustomed to his returning from battalion with grim news or word of a new mission. They had become practiced at remaining calm while their commander explained how the Team was about to risk the lives of its men to execute its new orders. This time, like all the times before, they expected no less.

They were taken aback, therefore, when Bannon approached with a smile on his face. Bob Uleski, sensing that

something was afoot, turned to the first sergeant. "Well, Sergeant, either it's good news or the pressure has gotten to him and the Old Man has finally slipped the track."

As hard as he tried, Bannon couldn't downplay his joy as the colonel had. After all they had been through, be couldn't hold back. "Men, unless we receive information to the contrary, effective midnight tonight, a cease-fire will take effect along the entire front. Unless something terrible happens, the war is over."

Epilogue.

Nothing terrible did go wrong. The cease-fire held. Over the next few days the Team stayed in place, maintaining its vigilance and preparing for a possible continuation of hostilities.

While they were careful not to let their guard down, life began to improve. Regular hot meals became available, as did mail service. The men began to catch up on their personal needs, from bathing to clean laundry. Even the weather improved as they moved from the heat of summer into the cool days of early September.

It was during the first week of September that the division was replaced by a National Guard unit recently arrived from the States. The job of disarming the Soviets went to them and other units. Division was temporarily moved back into West Germany, where it received some replacements of equipment and personnel. By then the Soviet regime that had started the war was dismantled, and the chances of a new war were nonexistent.

With the crisis over, the Army bureaucrats began to reassert themselves. Those people who had lived in government quarters in Germany before the war were being sent back to conduct an inventory of their property, if it were still there, and to prepare a claim for any damages. The decision as to whether personal property that survived would be sent back to the States or families brought back to Germany hadn't been made yet.

It was strange returning to the military community the battalion had left a little over a month earlier. So much had changed. The community looked the same, empty of people but otherwise unchanged. The MP who escorted Bannon's group verified their names and quarters' addresses before letting each of them into their quarters. Bannon, like most of the others, had lost his keys somewhere along the way.

When he walked into his quarters, Bannon was overcome by a feeling of relief and joy. For the first time, he knew that it was all over. The horrors, though they would never be forgotten, were now relegated to the past. He looked around the quarters. Everything was as it had been when he had left. He was home.

He picked up the family album and sat on the sofa, just as he had that night in early August.

As he leafed through it, he realized how much he missed his family. Looking at the pictures of his children, he was secure in the knowledge that they had a future free of the fears both he and his wife had grown up with. Again, Americans had been called on to pay for their freedom. And again, they had met the challenge, paid the price, and prevailed. Bannon prayed this would be the last time. But he knew better.

NATO MILITARY SYMBOLS

SIZE OF UNIT

Yl1!- UNITDESIGNATION

TYPE OF UNIT

UNIT SIZE UNIT TYPE

PLATOONC-ABHOR or TANK COI1PANI

IIECNANIEED INFANTRY

n

ARtlORED CAVALRY BATTALION

nil TASK FORCEI-ARTILLERY, SELF PROPELLED

III RMHEMENGINEER

BRIGADE

XX DIVISIONINFANTRY, STRAIGNT LEO

XXX CORPS

XXXX ARMYARTILLERY, TOYED

XXXXX ARMY GROUP ARKY AVIATION

AIR DEFENSE ARTILLERY

UNITS VITN A BORDER

ARE VARSAV PACT

Glossary.

A-10: A U.S. Air Force jet designed specifically to provide close air support to ground forces.

AH 1: The designation of the Cobra attack helicopter. There are several versions, and armaments range from 7.62mm miniguns up to TOW antitank guided missiles. The TOW

provides the main punch of the Cobra.

AK: Short for AK47 or AK74 rifle, the standard assault rifle of the Soviet infantryman.

Armed Forces Network: The official radio and television network of the U.S. Armed Forces, serving American military forces deployed overseas.

Assembly Area: A location normally behind friendly lines where a unit closes into a tight circle in order to rest, rearm, and prepare for further operations.

Autobahn: The German equivalent to our interstate highway system, the autobahns, in fact, inspired and acted as a model for our interstate highway system.

Auxiliary Radio Receiver: Sometimes referred to as the AUX, it is simply a radio receiver, unable to transmit. Command vehicles normally carry a radio that can receive and transmit set to the radio frequency of the commander's unit and an auxiliary radio set to the radio frequency of his commanding officer.

Basic Load: A prescribed number of rounds or amount of supply carried by a combat vehicle or individual soldier.

BBC: British Broadcasting system.

BMP: A Soviet fully tracked infantry-fighting vehicle mounting either a 73mm gun or a 25mm cannon in the BMP-2 version, an antitank guided missile, and 7.62mm machine gun. The BMP carries a crew of three and a nine-man infantry squad. The BMP provided the prime motivation for the design and production of the Bradley fighting vehicle.

BTR: A designator identifying any one of several types of Soviet armored personnel carriers from the four-wheeled BTR-152 of World War II vintage to the BTR-70, an eight-wheeled armored personnel carrier now being fielded.

BTR-60: A Soviet eight-wheeled armored personnel carrier. This vehicle comes in several versions, from the original, which has an open top, to the BTR-60PB, which is completely enclosed and carries a small turret mounting a 14.5mm and a 7.62mm machine gun. In addition to the personnel carrier version, the BTR-60 serves as a command and control vehicle, close air support vehicle, and other such uses.

Bradley: An armored fighting vehicle that comes in two versions, the M-2 mechanized infantry fighting vehicle version and the M-3 scout version. Both have a two-man turret that mounts a TOW missile launcher, a 25mm chain gun, and a 7.62mm machine gun mounted coaxially with the 25mm gun.

CEOI: Short for communication and electronic operating instructions. The CEOI contains all radio frequencies, radio call signs, signal information, and passwords and countersigns.

CEV: Short for combat engineer vehicle. This vehicle is a specially modified tank that carries a large caliber demolition gun used for reducing obstacles, a dozer blade for digging positions or clearing debris, and a boom and winch.

Chemical Alarm: A small portable device the size of a bread box that samples the air and alerts its users when a chemical agent, gas, is detected.

CINC: Short for commander in chief, the term is pronounced "sink." In this case, it is referring to the four-star general in command of all NATO forces in Europe.

CO: Short for commanding officer.

COAX: Short for coaxially mounted machine gun. This weapon is normally a 7.62mm machine gun mounted next to the main weapon of a fighting vehicle.

Cobra: Nickname of the AH I attack helicopter. The Cobra is also referred to as a "Snake."

Cupola: A small, freely rotating turret on top of a tank turret or personnel carrier that incorporates a hatch, vision blocks, and usually a weapon such as a machine gun.

CVC: Short for combat vehicle crewman's helmet. This helmet provides protection to the tracked vehicle crewman's head as the tank bounces around the countryside. It is also wired to the vehicle's radio and intercom, allowing the crewman to hear what is being broadcast and to broadcast over the radio and intercom.

Division Rear: Military units occupy terrain. The terrain that the unit occupies is called a sector and is normally subdivided into sectors with subordinate units responsible for the sector they occupy. The division rear is that part of the division's sector that is to the rear of the forward-deployed combat brigades. The division rear is normally managed by the division's support command, called DISCOM, and contains most of the noncom-

bat support elements such as supply units, maintenance units, medical units, etc.

DPICM: Short for dual-purpose, improved conventional munitions. This is an artillery round that contains many small submunitions or bomblets that are capable of defeating the thin armor located on top of armored vehicles as well as being effective against personnel and other "soft" targets.

Dragon: A medium antitank guided missile launcher. Manportable, the Dragon is the infantry's medium-range antitank weapon, with a range of 1000 meters.

Executive Officer: The second in command of a unit. In a company, the executive officer, or XO, is a first lieutenant; in a battalion, he is a major. Traditionally the XO is responsible for handling the administrative and logistical matters in the unit.

45: Short for the caliber .45 M 1911 A 1 pistol, the standard side arm for the U.S. Army. This weapon has been in the Army's inventory since 1911.

Field Phone: Simple telephones that are powered either by sound TA-ls or D-cell batteries TA-312s and connected by two-strand wire called WD-1.

Fighting positions: The location or position from which a soldier or fighting vehicle fights.

This position is usually improved to provide protection to the soldier or vehicle and camouflaged to hide the position until the soldier or vehicle fires.

First Sergeant: The senior NCO in a company, normally a master sergeant or E-8. In combat, the First Sergeant assists the executive officer in handling the administrative and logistical needs of the company.

FIST: Short for fire-support team. This team is headed by an artillery lieutenant and coordinates all requests for artillery and mortar fires as well as close air support. The FIST

team consists of four to six men and travels in an M-113, normally within arm's reach of the company commander.

FSOFSE: Fire-support officer and fire-support element. The fire-support officer is responsible for coordinating all indirect fires, i.e. artillery, mortar, and close air support, for the battalion or brigade to which he is attached. The fire-support element is located at the battalion or brigade command post.

Gasthaus: A small German neighborhood restaurant and pub that may also include a hotel.

GB: A chemical agent.

Gun Mantel: The armor that protects a tank's main gun and its cradle.

Halon Gas: A gas used to extinguish fires in the M-l and Bradley vehicles. Automatic fire sensors detect fires and release the halon gas within milliseconds of activation.

HEAT: Short for high explosive antitank, a round that depends on a shaped charge explosion to penetrate an armored vehicle's armor. Because the round contains high explosive, it has a secondary role as an antimaterial round.

Hind: Nickname of the Soviet MI-24D attack helicopter.

Improved TOW Vehicle or ITV: A modified M-l13 armored personnel carrier that has an antitank guided missile launcher mounted on a small rotating turret. TOW stands for tubelaunched, optically-tracked, wire-guided antitank guided missile. The TOW is currently the heaviest antitank guided missile in the U.S. Army's inventory capable of hitting a tank-sized target out to a range of 3700 meters with a 90 hit probability.

Intercom: Short for intercommunications system. The intercom links all tracked vehicle crewmen together and allows the crew to talk amongst themselves.

LAW: Short for light antitank weapon. The current U.S. Army LAW contains a 66mm antitank rocket that has an effective range of 300 meters. The LAW comes in a collapsible tube that is discarded when the rocket has been fired.

LBE: Short for load-bearing equipment. This is the web gear worn by soldiers that includes suspenders and a web belt to which equipment is attached, such as ammo pouches, the soldier's first-aid pouch, canteen, grenades, bayonet, pistol holster, etc. LBE is designed, in theory, to evenly distribute the weight of this equipment on the soldier's body.

LOGREP: Short for logistics report. Submitted to higher headquarters to inform them of the current status of ammunition, fuel, maintenance, and supply of a unit.

LP: Listening post. A listening post is an outpost that is used during periods of limited visibility to provide security and early warning to the unit that it is covering. As its name implies, the LP relies on hearing the approaching enemy.

M-l: This is the current main battle tank of the U.S. Army. It has a crew of four, mounts a 105mm main gun, an M2 caliber .50 machine gun, and an M240

7.62mm machine gun. The 63-ton tank is powered by a 1500 horsepower turbine engine and is capable of 45 mphs. The fire-control system incorporates a laser range finder, a solid-state computer, a thermal imaging sight, and other electronics that allow the main gun to fire while on the move with a high degree of accuracy, day or night.

M-3: The scout version of the Bradley fighting vehicle. See Bradley for a description.

M60: A 7.62mm machine gun that is the mainstay of the U.S. Army's infantry squad. It has an effective range of 900 meters.

M-113: Until recently, the M-l13 was the primary armored personnel carrier. Weighing 13

tons, it has a crew of two, driver and commander, and the capacity to carry an entire infantry squad. The M-113 is normally armed with a caliber .50 M2 machine gun located at the commander's position. Because infantry cannot fight while mounted, the M-113 is being replaced by the M-2 Bradley fighting vehicle. The M-113 still remains a mainstay in the U.S.

Army, performing support roles on or near the front.

M-577: A specially configured personnel carrier used as a command and control vehicle at battalion and brigade level.

Mech: Short for mechanized or, in the case in this book, mechanized infantry.

MI-241: A Soviet attack helicopter similar to the U.S. Army AH 1. The MI-241, named Hind, is heavily armed with an automatic cannon and antitank guided missiles and is well armored.

Mine Roller: An attachment to a tank that clears a path through a mine field for an attacking armored force. The rollers are nothing more than large metal wheels that are pushed ahead of the tank and set off mines as they run over them.

MOPP Level: Short for mission-oriented protective posture. MOPP levels prescribe how prepared individuals are to be to meet a chemical attack. In MOPP level I, soldiers simply carry or have their protective gear available. In MOPP level II, soldiers will don the chemical protective suit and carry their protective masks, gloves and boots. MOPP level III requires the soldier to wear the chemical protective suit, gloves, and boots. MOPP level IV, the highest level, requires the soldier to wear all his protective clothing and his protective mask.

MIZE: Short for Meal, Ready to Eat. MREs have replaced the age-old C-rations as the standard combat ration in the U.S. Army.. MREs are a combination of dehydrated and ready-to-eat foods that come in plastic pouches.

MTU: A Soviet tank-mounted bridge that can be laid under fire across obstacles such as antitank ditches or small streams.

NATO: North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Founded in 1949, it is a military alliance whose expressed purpose is to prevent Soviet expansion in Europe. Today, NATO consists of Norway, Great Britain, Denmark, Belgium, The Netherlands, Luxembourg, the Federal Republic of Germany, Portugal, Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Canada, and the United States. France is still a

member but does not actively participate in NATO maneuvers or exercises.

NBC-1 Report: An initial, chemical attack report.

NCO: Short for noncommissioned officer or sergeant. NCO ranks are: E-5 or buck sergeant, three stripes; E-6 or staff sergeant, three stripes and one rocker or lower stripe; E-7 or sergeant first class, three stripes and two rockers; E-8 or master sergeant, three stripes and three rockers; and E-9 or

sergeant major, three stripes, three rockers with a star between the stripes and rockers.

Night Vision Goggles: Night vision devices that amplify available light and provide the user with a visible image.

OH-58: Designation of the U.S. Army's current scout or observation helicopter.

OP: Short for outpost or observation post. An outpost is placed well forward of a unit's main position and is intended to provide security and early warning for the unit. An OP can be manned by two or more dismounted personnel or armored vehicles.

Panzer: German for armor.

Panzer Grenadier: The German term for mechanized infantry.

Platoon Sergeant: The senior noncommissioned officer in a platoon, normally an E-7. The platoon sergeant is the second in command of the platoon and performs the same duties that the executive officer does at company or battalion level.

PRC-77: A small man-portable FM radio used by the infantry.

Protective Mask: Gas mask.

REFORGER: A peacetime exercise that practices the redeployment of U.S.. forces from the continental U.S. to Europe.

Remote Box: Part of the track's radio system, it allows the track commander to change frequencies from his position without having to climb down into the vehicle.

RPG: Short for rocket-propelled grenade. The RPG is the standard Soviet infantryman's antitank rocket, the equivalent to the U.S. Army's LAW.

S-1: The "S" is for staff. The S-1 is the staff officer responsible for all personnel matters in the battalion or brigade.

S-2: The staff officer responsible for gathering, analyzing, and producing intelligence on enemy activities and intentions.

S-3: The staff officer responsible for planning, coordinating, and monitoring combat operations of the battalion or brigade.

S-4: The staff officer responsible for providing and coordinating for supply, maintenance, and non-combat transportation needs of the battalion or brigade.

SABOT: The word is actually French for shoe. Here, it is the name of an antitank round.

SABOT is short for armor-piercing fin-stabilized discarding sabot. The round consists of a small tungsten alloy or depleted uranium penetrator that has a diameter smaller than the diameter of the gun tube. To

compensate for this, the penetrator is seated in a boot that is the same diameter as the gun.

This boot, called the SABOT, falls away after the round leaves the gun, leaving the penetrator to continue to the target.

SHELLREP: Short for shell report. Used to report the impact of enemy artillery.

SITREP: Short for situation report. Subordinate commanders use the SITREP to update their superiors on the current activities, location, and condition of their unit.

SOP: Short for standing operating procedures. A unit SOP prescribes set actions to be taken given in a given situation.

Spot Report: A short, concise report used to provide information on the sighting of enemy activity. At a minimum, the report provides information on who has made the sighting, when the sighting was made, where the enemy was observed, how the enemy was equipped, and what he was doing.

Stand-to: A set time, normally before dawn, when all members of a unit are awake and manning their weapons and fighting positions.

Stinger Team: The Stinger is a man-portable short-range antiaircraft heat-seeking missile.

Stinger teams are two-man teams that are stationed well forward with combat units to provide air defense.

T-55 Tank: A Soviet tank with a four-man crew and mounting a 100mm gun and a 7.62mm machine gun. This tank is considered obsolete by today's standards but is still found in Warsaw Pact inventories.

T-62 Tank: A Soviet tank with a four-man crew and mounting a 115mm smoothbore gun, a 12.5mm and a 7.62mm machine gun. Though considered obsolete, it is still very capable and found in many Warsaw Pact units.

T-72 Tank: A Soviet tank with a three-man crew and mounting a 125mm smoothbore gun, a 12.5mm and a 7.62mm machine gun. The elimination of the fourth crewman is achieved by using an automatic loader for the main gun. Special armor and a sophisticated fire-control system make it a powerful foe that is difficult to stop.

Task Force: A combat battalion that has both tank and infantry companies. Under U.S. Army doctrine, battalions seldom fight as pure tank or infantry units.

Team: A company-sized unit that includes both tank and mechanized infantry platoons.

Unlike a peacetime company, the number and type of platoons in a team can vary according to

its assigned mission. In the case of Team Yankee, the Team initially has two tank and one mechanized infantry platoon as well as two improved TOW vehicles.

Thermal Sight: A sight that detects the heat emitted by an object and translates that heat into a visible image for the gunner or tank commander.

TOG: Short for tactical operations center. This is where the staff plans future operations and monitors the current battle. The TOG receives and passes reports, relieving the commander of that responsibility so that he may run the current battle.

TOW: Short for tube-launched, optically-tracked, wire-guided antitank guided missile. The TOW is the U.S. Army's current heavy antitank guided missile with a range of 3700 meters.

The guidance system provides a high probability of hitting a tank-sized target out to its maximum range.

Trains: A term used to describe the collection of support and service elements that support military units.

Two-and-a-half Ton Truck: A medium cargo truck with a hauling capacity of two and a half tons. This truck is also referred to as a deuce and a half.

VC: Viet Cong, another war.

Vulcan: A 20mm multi-barreled short-range antiaircraft gun. The extremely high rate of fire, 4000 rounds a minute, results in a chainsaw-like sound when firing.

Warsaw Pact: A military alliance founded by the European Communist countries to counter NATO. It consists of the Soviet Union, Poland, the German Democratic Republic, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, and Rumania.

WD-1: Two-strand wire used to connect field telephones or other communications equipment.

ZSU 23-4: A Soviet antiaircraft gun. It has four rapid-firing 23mm guns hence 23-4. It is very capable and serves the same mission as the Vulcan in the U.S. Army. The ZSU, sometimes called "Zoo" for short, accompanies the first echelon attack elements to provide air defense for those elements.