By the time they reached the hollow’s bottom. Reed’s eyes were fully adapted to the dark. This coincided with their arrival at the Objective Rally Point. The ORP was intentionally located out of sight, sound, and small-arms range of the objective. It would provide a temporary base of operations, and the men gratefully slipped off their rucksacks and initiated final preparations for the raid.
Reed removed his own ruck, and watched as the PL positioned his security team. Once this was achieved, the PL assembled the squad’s Recon and Surveillance unit. A flashlight with a red lens was used to doublecheck their position on a folded map, and before leaving to reconnoiter the objective with his R&S team, the PL delegated responsibility for the ORP to the Assistant Patrol Leader.
“Red Dog One, this is Red Dog Two, over,” whispered the RTO into the handset of his radio.
“Red Dog Two, this is Red Dog One, over,” replied the gruff voice of the soldier occupying the Tactical Operations Center back at Sapper base camp.
“Red Dog One, be informed that Red Dog Two has reached its Objective Rally Point at coordinates Whiskey Mike six-seven-six-five, six-seven-eight-zero, and is preparing to move on objective, over.”
“Red Dog Two, this is Red Dog One. Roger, out.”
With the conclusion of this brief exchange, silence returned to the ORP. Reed watched a pair of Sappers cache the rucksacks with straps up for quick recovery. Yet another pair of soldiers began preparing demolitions, while the APL went to work crafting Enemy Prisoner of War bindings.
A sudden rustling sound prompted Reed to turn around in time to see a tall, BDUclad figure break free from the surrounding underbrush.
“Hey, Reed,” greeted First Sergeant Louis Stewart in a hoarse whisper.
“Are you carryin’ long cut or mint?”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting particular in your old age,” Reed answered, pulling out a tin of Kodiak chewing tobacco from his top pocket and handing it to the fifteen-year veteran. Stewart was a fellow observer, who began his career as a tank driver. An incessant moocher, Stewart rarely reciprocated, though Reed could forgive him because of his rotten luck in cards.
“This humidity’s a bitch,” said Stewart as he tucked a pinch of tobacco behind his lower lip.
“The twins are up in Rolla playin’ ball tonight, and I sure hope they’re pouring down plenty of Gatorade.”
“How about getting TOC on the horn and setting up an extra water rendezvous right after the raid?” Reed offered while pulling out his NVGs.
“Our Sappers are going to be awfully thirsty after expending all that ordnance.”
Stewart took a sip from his canteen and checked the luminescent dial of his wristwatch.
“Looks like it’s going to be another late one. This group’s slower than a pig in molasses.”
“At least they’re thorough and following the handbook,” returned Reed.
“Besides, what else do you expect from mechanized?”
Stewart grinned.
“Sappers might lead the way, but tankers do it in style.”
“Let’s just make certain that Sapper One doesn’t get too comfortable in this ORP,” Reed advised.
Stewart spat out a torrent of tobacco juice.
“Why don’t I check the perimeter and see if we’ve got us any sleepers? See yaup at the raid site, good buddy.”
With Stewart’s exit. Reed wiped the sweat off his forehead and slipped on his NVGs. The AN/PVS-7D binocular goggles utilized a single passive third-generation image intensifier tube, and when he switched them on, the entire forest was illuminated in a greenish-yellow hue, compliments of amplified starlight. Individual trees and clumps of shrubbery were clearly visible, and as Reed scanned the ORP, he noted the positions of each of the Sappers.
The APL could be seen huddled beside his RTO. Behind them, their automatic rifleman was attending to his M60 machine gun.
The squad had only just received a pair of M249 Squad Automatic Weapons. The SAW was designed to replace the venerable M60 in certain units. Both weapons delivered devastating firepower and could engage targets up to eight hundred meters.
Reed watched Sergeant Stewart make his rounds of the security perimeter. The Sappers there were armed with a variety of M16A2 rifles and M4 carbines with M203 grenade launchers, hopefully providing more than enough firepower for the job at hand.
The snap of a tree limb caused Reed to turn in the direction of their objective. He readily spotted the R&S team headed back to the ORP. It took his eyes less than two minutes to regain full dark adaptation upon removing his NVGs, and Reed joined the newly returned PL beside his ruck.
The results of the recon were most promising. As expected, the militia outpost was located on the adjoining ridge. A trio of armed individuals was spotted there, dressed in tiger-striped fatigues and huddled around a small campfire. A pickup truck was parked nearby, with an assortment of wooden crates stacked in its bed. Ever fearful that the weapons cache was about to be moved, the PL ordered his squad to strike with all due haste.
Sapper One moved out in a file formation, wearing Kevlar helmets and weapons locked and loaded. Their climb was a short one. The flickering campfire highlighted the objective like a klieg light, and Reed accompanied the three-man support element, whose automatic weapons were responsible for securing the right flank.
They had decided on a linear ambush. It would be a relatively basic assault, with the support element initially attacking the campsite with a volley of machine-gun fire. The assault team would then open fire from the left flank. After the PL signaled the support element to lift or shift fire, the assault team would charge across the kill zone to destroy the remainder of the enemy.
Reed watched his Sappers take cover behind a rocky berm.
Once they were in position, a red chemlite was activated to inform the assault team that they were ready to rumble. The assault element answered in kind, and Reed inserted a pair of foam earplugs. No sooner were they in place than a green star cluster flare arced upward into the star-filled heavens, silhouetting their objective in a pulsating emerald glow. And it was then that all hell broke out.
The support team’s machine guns raked the objective with a deafening barrage that delivered a continuous outburst of fire for a full forty-five seconds. The ambush must have caught the enemy by complete surprise; Reed spotted just a single muzzle flash from the direction of the campfire. This feeble response was all too brief, and by the time a red star cluster signaled the support team to lift fire, no enemy activity was noticeable.
An exploding smoke grenade veiled the assault team’s charge across the kill zone. Reed left the support team behind at this point and headed for the objective himself.
He arrived beside the campfire just as the PL was calling for an Ammunition Casualty/ Report. Through the thick white smoke. Reed spotted the bodies of two militiamen lying on their stomachs on the far side of the fire. Neither one of them was moving. Apparently they never had the chance to put their rifles into play.
He supposed that the sole muzzle flash had originated from the corpse in front of the truck. It too was sprawled out on its stomach, an M4 carbine close by.
Once the team had determined that there were no friendly casualties,
the PL called out the EPW search team. All three of the enemy were labeled definite kills, and Reed watched a pair of Sappers prepare to search the body of the militiaman lying beside the truck.
While one of the Sappers stood guard at the enemy’s head, his buddy kicked aside the M4 and knelt to roll the body over.
Reed noted the way in which he lay prone on the enemy’s back before proceeding. This technique was used to shield the Sapper should a grenade booby trap be encountered.