“GAS! GAS! GAS!” The muffled cry by someone in a protective mask on the Team net electrified the crew of Alpha 66. As one, they tore open their protective mask cases and scrambled to mask. First, the CVC came off. Then the mask, chin first, was pulled up over each of their faces. Once on securely, the hood had to be pulled over the head, followed by the CVC. The final step was hooking the protective mask’s microphone jack into the CVC. In training, a tank crewman was expected to accomplish this in less than twenty seconds. And though no one had a stopwatch on him, Bannon had no doubt he’d more than beat that time as he took a second to settle himself before turning his full attention back to commanding his company.
“ROMEO 25, THIS IS TANGO 77. SHELLREP, OVER.”
“TANGO 77, THIS IS ROMEO 25, SEND IT.”
“THIS IS TANGO 77. HE AND GAS IMPACTING FROM 190896 TO 199893. CALIBER AND NUMBER OF ROUNDS UNKNOWN, OVER.”
From the coordinates given, Bannon knew that the 2nd Platoon leader, who was making the report, as well as his platoon, were safe. But the XO and the ITVs were catching hell. Because the Soviets were only firing on the hilltop and not at the actual positions of the Team’s two tank platoons, it was obvious they didn’t have a clear picture of where the Team was and were thus, firing blind. While that was good for the Team overall, Bannon had no doubt that that thought was cold comfort for Uleski and his people. Provided, of course, Uleski was still alive.
“TANGO 77, THIS IS ROMEO 25. 1 NEED AN NBC-1 REPORT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, OVER.”
“THIS IS TANGO 77. WE’RE WORKING IT UP NOW, OVER.”
As he waited for an accurate NBC-1 report, Bannon began to wonder why battalion had not warned him the Soviets were using chemical weapons. While it may have been an oversight on their part, the idea that his team was the first to be hit with chemical weapons could not be totally discounted. Just in case they were, Bannon decided not to wait for the complete report from 2nd Platoon before informing battalion.
It goes without saying his report, as incomplete as it was, caused a great deal of concern on the battalion net. Judging from the pitch of the voices and the excited chatter, as best as anyone knew, Team Yankee had been the first unit within the brigade to be hit by chemical weapons. The snap analysis the battalion S-2 offered up was that the Soviets, anxious to make a breakthrough, were getting desperate.
As enlightening as this was, the chemical attack, the massive artillery barrage, and the loss of contact with the XO and the ITVs were of little comfort to Bannon, for it seemed to signal a change in the Team’s fortunes.
The shadows in the valley were growing long. Early evening was upon them, and there was no end of the Soviet attack in sight. The barrage on the hill had been going on unabated for ten minutes without letup. The NBC-1 report from 2nd Platoon indicated that the Soviets were using GB, a non-persistent blood agent. While that particular agent would not last once the attack was over, GB broke down the protective mask filters rapidly, making them useless. The Team would need to change filters quickly or suffer mass casualties in the next chemical attack, provided, Bannon thought, they survived long enough after the first one to do so.
This grim thought had no sooner played itself out in his mind when, to his surprise, another Soviet artillery unit began to lay down a massive smoke screen just in front of the Team’s positions. They were going to launch a full blooded attack, and soon. Bannon had expected the Soviets would wait until night and probe their positions with recon elements under cover darkness before attacking. That they weren’t left him wondering if the S-2 was right, that they being pushed by their commanders to achieve a clean breakthrough. Not that night would have made much of a difference. The gunners in the tank platoons and those manning the Dragons in the Mech Platoon were already switching to their thermal sights. The smoke screen the Soviet gunners were arduously building would offer the attacking force scant protection, if any.
“Well, if you’re gonna come, let’s get this over with,” Bannon muttered to himself, forgetting as he did so his intercom was keyed.
Upon hearing this, Folk nodded in response. “I’m with you on that one, sir.”
The 2nd Platoon reported the new attack first. At a range of 2500 meters, the advancing Soviet vehicles emerging from the tree line on the hill to the Team’s right front across from Team Bravo appeared as green blobs in the thermal sights of the Team’s tanks. They were either headed straight into the village, or through Team Bravo’s position. Bannon informed the battalion S-3 of the enemy’s appearance, direction of attack, and his thoughts on the enemy’s intentions.
Major Jordan was quick to reply, informing Bannon Team Bravo was in no shape to fight. With only two functional tanks and three Dragon teams, Bravo would be hard pressed to protect itself, let alone stop a determined attack. Team Yankee, Bannon was told, would have to carry the major portion of the coming fighting.
Because of the range and the quality of the image produced on the thermal sight, it was difficult, at first, to distinguish which of the attacking blobs were tanks and which were BMPs. Bannon therefore ordered the 2nd Platoon to engage the lead vehicles with SABOT, assuming that the Soviets would follow their own tactical doctrine and lead off with tanks. The 3rd Platoon was to fire over the village at the center and rear of the attacking formation as it came out from the tree line. They would engage with HEAT on the assumption that the BMPs would be following the tanks. The Mech Platoon was instructed to stand ready to catch anything that got through. With no time left for a coordinated ambush like the one the Team had used to stop the first echelon, Bannon gave the platoons permission to fire at will before turning his full attention to working on getting some friendly artillery into the act.
As the firing commenced, Bannon fumbled with map and grease pencil in the confined space in which a tank commander has to work. The rubber gloves and the protective mask only made this more awkward, for as he searched his map for an appropriate artillery target reference point, the hose of his protective mask kept flopping down in front of him, obstructing his view of the map. To keep this from happening again, he stopped and flung the protective mask carrier, containing the filter over his shoulder in an effort to get the hose out of the way. This succeeded in clearing his view of the map, but added a new complication to his labors as the weight of the filter yanked at the hose, pulling his head over to one side. That he was able to accomplish anything amazed him. But succeeded he did in finding a suitable target reference point, contacting the FSO, and putting in a call for fire.
The second attack had caught Garger by surprise. He had not expected the Soviets to be foolish enough to continue the attack in this sector. He had read that the Soviets never reinforce defeat. It was a practice in the Red Army to push everything into the attack that succeeded. They had not succeeded before, and Garger was confident they would not succeed now. Even the artillery impacting to his right, close enough so that the shock waves could be felt, did not alter his opinion. Garger listened to the Team commander’s orders and acknowledged them. He sized up the Soviet force his platoon was to engage and issued his instructions to the platoon. Then he got down to the serious business of killing Russians.