When Childers had seen the damage to the plant that was so close to his family’s home, it had angered him immensely. He had joined the military to protect his country, to avenge those who had been killed on September 11, 2001. Now, fellow countrymen from his own hometown had been killed by foreign invaders. After an exceptionally sobering day, he’d met up with a few of his friends at their favorite watering hole and proceeded to get very drunk and do his best to forget about the horrors he had seen and done in the name of defending his country.
A few days after the attack, when Childers had reported to duty, he had been assigned to the squadron headquarters as the new command sergeant major. In peacetime, his primary duties would have been to advise the senior command officers about personnel issues and facilitate communication with the troop first sergeants. As it was, his new job was to get the squadron trained and ready for combat. Following their escape from Kiev, the entire regiment had been sent to Germany to regroup and reorganize, which turned out to be very necessary as their group doubled in size, mostly with raw recruits fresh from basic training, and they needed all hands on deck to get them ready.
The next two months were spent drilling the young soldiers in how to fight in an urban environment and in a static defense. One strategy Childers implemented within each of the troops was two half-day lectures that went over after-action reviews of previous battles the squadron had taken part in up to that point. He wanted the younger soldiers to listen to what had happened during the battles with the Russians and to ask questions, to learn what had gone right, what had gone wrong, and where they had just gotten lucky. If they could save the lives of his new soldiers, then passing that knowledge on to them was worth taking the training time to do so.
After months of waiting, Childers finally received the news he had been waiting to hear. Lieutenant Colonel Alex Schoolman walked up to him as he was scanning the perimeter with his binoculars and got his attention. “Sergeant Major, we just received word from headquarters. The attack is a go,” he announced. He signaled for one of his staff officers to pass the information on to the rest of the squadron.
“‘Bout time we get this war back on again,” Luke thought. He nodded in acknowledgment to his boss, but then quickly resumed his task of looking across the border with his binoculars.
As the artillery bombardment lifted, the Allied forces moved across the border toward their various objectives. Dozens of the squadron’s armored vehicles sprinted forward, following the UK’s 7th Armoured Brigade and their Challenger 2 tanks. The Stryker command vehicle from which Childers was observing the battle suddenly lurched forward, and they joined the column of advancing British vehicles. Only ten minutes after crossing the border, the British tanks had already encountered the remnants of the Russian units who had been left to defend the small territory.
Boom! Bang! Ratatat! The chattering of machine guns and explosions grew increasingly louder as Childer’s vehicle drove toward the action. Suddenly, a loud explosion shoved their Stryker violently to one side, jostling everyone inside. “What the hell was that?” shouted Childers.
The gunner manning the automated 20mm autocannon replied, “That lead British tank just blew up. It looked like a missile strike from the sky.”
Everyone craned their heads back and looked up at the sky above them. “Could a Russian fighter or helicopter have gotten through our air cover?” Childers wondered.
A moment later, the air was pierced with another loud explosion. The colonel yelled to his driver, “Stop the vehicle!”
Colonel Schoolman quickly grabbed his radio and yelled to the rest of the squadron, “All stop!”
He turned to Childers and barked, “We have to figure out what’s going on!”
Childers stood up and scanned the skies for the threat. At that moment, another missile streaked down and hit a third British tank, blowing the turret clean off.
“There! I see it. What the—? It’s one of our Reaper drones that’s firing on us!” Childers shouted, now angry that whoever was controlling that drone had just blown up multiple Allied tanks.
A moment later, the lieutenant who was in charge of the squadron’s communications platoon spoke up. “Colonel, I just received a report from regiment. They said they were informed the Russians have apparently taken control of some of our Reaper drones and are using them against us.”
The colonel’s nose and eyebrows wrinkled up in disgust. “What do they want us to do about it?” he yelled.
A second later, the lieutenant replied, “They said to keep the attack going. The Air Force is working on the problem.”
In the few seconds that it took the frazzled lieutenant to relay that information, one of the Reaper drones exploded in spectacular fashion as one of their fighters swooped in and blew it out of the sky.
“It does look like the Air Force is on top of it, Sir,” Childers said, pointing to the small smoke cloud in the sky where the drone had just been.
“Order all units to continue the attack. Those blasted hackers — they just cost us several tanks!” The colonel was clearly fired up. His face was red with anger, and a vein on the side of his forehead was visibly pulsating.
“I’m glad he’s on my side,” thought Childers.
When they got closer to the burned-out wrecks of the Challenger tanks, they suddenly came into contact with some sporadic small-arms fire. The soldier manning the automated turret swiveled the gun in the direction of the incoming bullets and spotted several Russian soldiers manning a heavy machine gun in a burned-out building, shooting at a group of British soldiers who were advancing toward their structure.
Childers leaned down to the soldier. “See if you can’t give those guys some help and take that gun position out,” he gently suggested.
The young soldier looked up at the sergeant major and just nodded. This was the first time the kid was going to use the gun in battle, and he looked nervous. Allowing his training to take over, the soldier sighted in on the enemy position and depressed the firing button. A short burst from his 20mm cannon slammed into the building. The first burst was a bit high and off target. The young soldier recentered and tried again, this time scoring a direct hit, silencing the gun position.
“Good job, soldier,” said Childers. “Do it just like that every time. Make sure your fields of fire are clear and engage the enemy. You may have just saved a few soldiers’ lives by taking that gun position out, so it’s important that you don’t hesitate in the future when you see a threat like that. OK?” He wanted to make sure the young soldier knew he wasn’t in training any more — he couldn’t second-guess things.
Smiling and obviously feeling a lot more confident, the young soldier answered, “Yes, Sergeant Major. I understand. I’ll do better next time.”
Forty minutes after crossing the border, the squadron had now moved to the outskirts of Chernyakhovsk. There were two airfields in the vicinity that they had been charged with securing. One of them had been a Russian strategic nuclear base prior to the war, and there was still some question as to whether or not the Russians still had nuclear weapons at the facility.