His tank, surrounded by the rest of his company, rushed forward and continued to fire. As it did, Saada kept hoping that this wouldn't end. He didn't want it to end. Without considering what it was he was asking, he prayed that the battle could continue.
Finished with the last rank in the third platoon, Ilvanich turned away from the platoon leader without a word and stormed off, moving around the platoon to the front of the company. The three platoon leaders had brought their platoons to attention by the time Ilvanich reached his position in front of the company formation. Once there, he stopped, pivoted on his heels, faced his company, and stood there for several minutes, debating what to do. The results of his precombat inspection had been, to say the least, a disappointment. After almost two weeks of doing nothing but providing internal security for the airfield, both officers and enlisted men had become lax in their discipline and the maintenance of their weapons. Not a single platoon was ready to move out. Empty canteens, half-empty ammo pouches, and dirty rifles were just a few of the deficiencies he found. And the deficiencies were not limited to the enlisted soldiers. One of his platoon leaders had shown up with his map case but no map. Logic told him to go back to his battalion commander and report that his unit was not ready to deploy that night.
To do so, however, simply would not be acceptable. Another company would be assigned the duties, and Ilvanich and his men would be back to pulling guard and conducting roving patrols within the confines of the airfield fence. Besides, since arriving at Al Fasher, Ilvanich had made himself a nuisance, requesting permission every day to send out patrols at night to sweep the surrounding area and establish ambushes. Ilvanich was not alone in his desire to do something. The battalion commander also wanted to take a more active role than they were given, but he reminded Ilvanich, as well as himself, that external security was a matter for the Sudanese army. Ilvanich countered by reminding him that the Sudanese army that was responsible for providing external security for the Soviet-held airfield was the same one that was the host to U.S. Army Special Forces teams. His battalion commander reluctantly restated that although that might be true, they had little choice. The original agreement between the U.S. S. R. and the Sudanese government included a clause that restricted Soviet personnel to the airfield. In the second place, the battalion commander pointed out, he did not have enough personnel to provide internal security around the clock and run ambush patrols and sweeps outside the fence.
The situation changed dramatically after the Egyptians invaded Libya. Within twenty-four hours of the commencement of hostilities to the north, two additional parachute battalions had been flown out of Ethiopia to Al Fasher. One battalion was held on strip alert, with orders to be ready to depart in less than an hour. Rumors as to its destination were varied. One had it that the battalion was going to seize the dam at Aswan and threaten to destroy it unless the Egyptians withdrew from Libya. Equally popular was the rumor that the ready unit was standing by to go into Khartoum in case the Sudanese government needed an incentive to allow the Soviets continued use of the airfield. Whatever the truth was, that battalion was kept together and free from routine security tasks. Only in the unlikely event of an attack on the airfield itself would it be used at the airfield.
The second battalion was committed to beef up the security of the airfield. With the need for better security due to the outbreak of fighting in Libya and the additional units on hand, the decision was made to "supplement" the Sudanese patrols providing security in the surrounding area. Because he had been so keen on the idea, and because his company had had a great deal of success in similar operations while fighting guerrillas in Iran, Ilvanich's company was picked to conduct sweeps and establish ambushes.
Any joy he had felt over the change of mission for his company was washed away by the precombat inspection, which revealed how poorly prepared his company was. But dismal as his company's showing was, he decided to go as they were. To return to the barracks and correct all their deficiencies before moving out would take too long. The sun was already low in the west, and the moon, even though it was at 50 percent, would set at 2130 hours that night. The last thing Ilvanich wanted to do was to stumble about blindly without any moon, looking for their positions. Against his better judgment he gave the order to mount the trucks lined up to the rear of the company formation. As he watched his men do so, he decided that upon their return in the morning, no one was going to be released from duty, even for breakfast, until all the deficiencies he had noted were corrected. He had no intention of allowing sloppy performance to go uncorrected, or unpunished.
From a covered position on the side of a hill east of the airfield, Sergeant Jackson put his binoculars down and turned to wake his team leader. Even though they were a safe distance from the airfield, Jackson whispered. "Pssst… Hey, Lieutenant — I mean Captain… those Russians are mounting up onto trucks. Looks like they're gettin' ready to move out."
Removing the camouflaged bush hat from his face and opening his eyes, Kinsly noted that the sun was already dropping to the horizon. He stretched, rolled over onto his stomach, and crawled forward until he was next to Jackson. Jackson had the binos back up to his eyes and was intently watching the troops complete their loading. "How big a force?" Kinsly asked.
Without taking the binos down, Jackson responded that there were at least three platoons, each with thirty men, three machine guns, and a few antitank grenade launchers, or RPGs. So far he hadn't seen any mortars. Then he quickly added that the mortars could already be on the trucks.
Kinsly considered this new development before he spoke. "Ambush patrols?"
Lowering the binos but still watching the airfield, Jackson thought about Kinsly's question for a moment. "A little big, but then Russians like to do things in a big way. Right weapons, right time of day, right sequence of events, like the combat inspection and all. Yes, sir, ambush patrols. Looks like easy days are over. The bear is gonna come out lookin' for us, sir."
Kinsly reached over and motioned to Jackson to pass the binos over to him. Without a word Jackson took them from around his neck and handed them to Kinsly. Putting the binos up to his eyes, Kinsly looked at the line of trucks for a moment. The exhaust stack on the lead truck choked out a buff of dirty black smoke as he watched, signaling that the drivers were cranking up their vehicles. Sweeping to the left, Kinsly turned his gaze over to the line of attack helicopters located south of the trucks. Other than some mechanics working on one helicopter and a guard slowly shuffling around them, there was no sign of activity. "Well, they don't know we're here. If they did, there'd be at least a pair of those helicopters up and sweeping the road for the trucks or working us over." Handing the binos back to Jackson, he ordered him to keep an eye on the trucks. If they started to move in their direction or helicopters began to crank, Jackson was to get back to the team's hidden position ASAP to warn them. After Jackson acknowledged the orders, Kinsly slithered down the hill backwards until he was sure he could stand without being seen over the crest of the hill.