They had lugged their AN/PED-1 Lightweight Laser Designator Rangefinder (LLDR) up on the roof with them, along with their own scout drone and Toughbook to watch the real-time video from it. The LLDR was a great new tool. It had been in service for roughly ten years, but the newest version was a huge improvement over previous models. It was lighter, smaller, and more accurate. This tool definitely helped them to identify specific targets much more accurately, and it could also be used to lase for guided munitions.
SFC Peeler turned to one of the young soldiers with him. “Hey, I need you to get the scout drone up,” he instructed. “It’s nearly dusk and the enemy will most likely launch their attack soon.”
Not long after the drone got airborne, they heard the unmistakable scream of incoming artillery. The Russians were known to flatten an area with artillery rounds before sending in their troops or armored vehicles, so Peeler had expected an incoming barrage, but no one could ever really be prepared for the experience. Explosions were going off all around, and there wasn’t anything they could do, except lie in wait on the roof and pray that a round did not land on top of them.
Fortunately, the specialist had managed to get the drone up to around a thousand feet, and guide it over to the village of Borschiv (roughly three thousand meters away) before the artillery started to hit. At the far end of the village, they spotted the Russian armored units, all fanned out in a combat formation, waiting for their artillery support to stop; then they would launch their own attack.
“Private, you see those armored vehicles? They are getting ready to move. Hand me the radio, will you?” Peeler asked the PFC that was lying on the roof next to him.
“Yes, Sir,” he responded over the cacophony of blasts.
With the radio in hand, SFC Peeler called back to get the first fire mission going. “Hellraisers, this is Foxtrot-Three. Fire mission. Regimental size element of Russian armor. Requesting fire for effect, three rounds WP, 300-foot airburst, grid…Second fire mission. Same grid, fire for effect, eight rounds HE, Ground burst. How copy?”
The two young soldiers sitting on the roof with him looked at him in awe of how easily he had just called in what was a very complex fire mission. They felt bad for the enemy that was about to have death and destruction unleashed on them.
A few seconds went by, then the radio crackled to life, “Foxtrot-Three. This is Hellraisers. Good copy. Standby for fire mission.”
In the Russian Army, armored vehicle commanders typically drove into an attack while standing in the hatch of their turret. This provided the commander with the best possible field of vision, and allowed him to take in the scene of the battle far better than he could while looking through the observation slits in the turret. Since the Russian tanks did not incorporate nearly as much targeting technology as the American tanks did, it meant the tank commander had to be a lot more observant and rely on seeing the enemy.
To take advantage of this tactical difference, SFC Peeler had called for a fire for effect of three rounds of WP, which stands for White Phosphorus. “Willie Pete,” as it was called by the gun bunnies, was an incredibly hot burning chemical. By calling the rounds as a 300-foot airburst, it would essentially rain 24 WP canisters down on top of the entire enemy position, creating a chemically-induced burning gas cloud. It would force the tank commanders to get back into their vehicles and move out of the area.
The second fire for effect mission would send 64 high-explosive rounds at the enemy. Due to the number of rounds being requested, the blasts would probably be distributed across the squadron rather than just one battery. If everything played out in their favor, the Americans would destroy more than a few dozen enemy armored vehicles between these two attacks.
The radio came to life again when the Fire Direction Command (FDC) who was coordinating the artillery fire announced, “Rounds shot.”
Ten seconds later, the voice came back over the radio saying, “Splash,” indicating the rounds should begin to impact in five seconds.
SFC Peeler responded, “Splash Out,” letting the FDC know that he had received the message.
While the Russian artillery bombardment continued, SFC Peeler and his two young soldiers watched the scout drone’s footage of their own artillery rounds starting to land amongst the Russian armored vehicles. As the WP rounds began to air-burst, sure enough, the tank commanders dropped back into their tanks, closing their hatches to escape the chemical cloud. The entire column began to start their engines and try to get out of the area. Just as most of the vehicles were beginning to move, the 64 high-explosive rounds landed across their positions, killing dozens of soldiers who had not returned to their vehicles yet. Several tanks also took direct hits, exploding in place.
Moments later, the Russian bombardment of their positions ended and the ground attack began, utilizing whatever forces had survived the American artillery attack.
SFC Peeler told the two soldiers with him, “Start calling out targets as they enter the previously designated zones.” They had arranged pre-arranged fire missions with the battalion FDC to hit certain zones around the American positions as the enemy started to enter them. This would save an enormous amount of time and provide for faster, more accurate, fire support. Considering they had no air support, the artillery battalion’s support was going to be worth its weight in gold.
As the bombardment ended, SFC Childers poked his head above his hastily-dug foxhole to see who else from the troop was still alive. The scream of wounded soldiers could be heard all around, sending a chill down his spine. Childers climbed out of his hole and moved down the line, checking on his soldiers.
He approached the foxhole next to his, and saw the two soldiers sitting in the bottom of it, shaken, but OK. “Hey, stay frosty guys,” he said. “The ground attack is most likely going to come next.” Then he proceeded to move to the next foxhole.
While moving forward, he heard some crying to his left, near a thicket of bushes. He moved towards the noise and saw one of his soldiers had crawled over to the greenery for cover. The man had been hit by shrapnel in multiple places; his right leg was nearly torn off and bleeding steadily. He had jimmied his own tourniquet and tried his best to stop the bleeding on his own. “Hang on soldier. I’m here,” said Luke calmly.
He moved to the injured man’s side and began to apply an additional bandage. “Medic! I need a medic over here!” he shouted to the soldiers around them.
A second later, one of the medics called back, “I’m on the way!”
Another soldier nearby heard Childer’s cry for help and ran over to assist as well. Within moments, the medic had arrived at their position. He placed his aid bag on the ground next to the wounded soldier, opening it swiftly and deftly searching for the exact supplies he needed. The medic immediately poured a clotting powder on the wounded man’s leg, then made sure the tourniquet was on tight. He gave the soldier a quick shot of morphine and began to establish an IV bag.
Once the initial life-saving measures were complete, Childers knew he would have to move on. He addressed the medic, “Specialist Jenkins, try to get him stabilized and back to the aid station. I’m not sure if or when we’ll be able to get any additional medical help, so do your best son”
Jenkins nodded, and the other soldier stayed with them to help move their injured comrade.
Sergeant Childers grabbed his rifle and walked further into the woods, checking the rest of the firing positions as he went. He needed to make sure the platoon was ready for the next attack.