Horrified, Bannon just stood there, staring down at the limb he’d stepped on, unable to force himself to think, much less move. Only when Folk brushed him as he ran by with 66’s first-aid kit was he able to shake off his momentary panic and continue on. Even then, he took his time, watching where he stepped. The Team’s charmed life, it seemed, was over.
With more effort than such a simple act should have taken, Bannon forced himself to look at each of the wounded men as the crew of 55 and Folk tore at clothing to expose torn and burned flesh as they set about the gruesome task of tending to the wounds. One of the men had lost a foot. In horrible pain, he rolled his head from side to side, panting as if he’d just finished a race as he thrashed his arms on the ground. Another ITV crewman beside him simply lay there, not moving at all. It took a second look by Bannon to see if he was still breathing. A check of the other three showed that while not nearly as badly wounded as the other two, they were still in bad shape. Unable to do anything for them, Bannon continued on to where Uleski was.
Knelling down beside the body on the ground across from his XO, Bannon took a closer look at the still figure between them over. Only then did it dawn upon him that it was Sp4 Thomas Lorriet, the driver of Alpha 55. The twenty-year-old Indiana native’s hand still grasped the hose of his protective mask as he had when he’d been fumbling to pull it free of its carrier. His mouth was opened as if he were gasping for air. The skin of his face was ashen white. His eyes were fixed and wide, but unseeing. He was dead.
Looking over at Uleski, Bannon could see his XO was shaken. Never having seen the man so despondent, he found himself at a loss as to what to say. This uneasy silence became even more unnerving when the XO, finally realizing his Team commander was staring at him, returned his gaze with a blank expression that told Bannon Uleski, like him, was having trouble coming to terms with what had happened.
Realizing they both needed to get past this awkward impasse, Bannon placed a gentle hand a hand on Uleski’s shoulder and uttered one word. “Report.”
After closing his eyes and swallowing hard, Uleski took in a deep breath. “The ITV crews were transferring TOW rounds when the first volley hit,” he stammered. “One minute it was quiet, the next, all hell broke loose. They didn’t know which way to turn. Some just flopped on the ground. Others tried for the tracks. One of them just lay where he fell, screaming for help. He kept screaming until the gas reached him. The chemical alarm went off before it was smashed.”
Pausing, Uleski turned his gaze back down at Lorriet. “We all buttoned up and waited. When there was no letup, I ordered Lorriet to back it up. He didn’t answer. I screamed as loud as I could, but he didn’t answer. I cursed at him and called him every vile name I could think of. The whole crew started to yell at him to get the tank out of here as the impacting rounds shook the tank. By then smoke, dust and gas was seeping in as shrapnel ricocheted off the outside. All we could do was yell to Lorriet until we were hoarse. He didn’t answer.”
Again, Uleski paused as he started to tremble. When his eyes began to fill with tears, he turned away, either in an effort to regain his composure or to keep Bannon from seeing them. Only when he had settled down did he continued as he once more took to regarding the dead driver. “After the shelling stopped, we found him like this. His hatch was pulled over but not locked down. He never got his mask on. All the time we were yelling at him, he was dead. We didn’t know,” Uleski uttered mournfully. “We just didn’t know.” These last words trailed off into silence.
The sound of the first sergeant’s M-113 and the M-113 ambulance coming up with him broke the silence. Bannon gave the shoulder he was holding a shake in an effort to make sure he was paying attention. “All right, Bob. I want you to go over to the first sergeant’s track and contact the platoons on the company net. I haven’t taken any SITREPs from them yet. Nor have I reported to battalion. Once you’ve consolidated the platoon reports, send up a Team SITREP to the S-3 and a LOGREP to the S-l and S-4. Understand?”
For a moment Uleski looked at the Team commander as if he were speaking a foreign language. Then he blinked, acknowledging his commanding officer’s instructions with nothing more than a stiff nod before slowly coming to his feet and heading over to the first sergeant’s track.
As the medics, Folk, and the loader from 55 worked on the wounded, Bannon grabbed Sergeant Gwent, the gunner on 55, by the arm. “What’s the condition of your tank?”
Gwent looked at him as if he were crazy. Bannon repeated his question. Ever so slowly Gwent turned his head to look at his tank for a moment, then back at Bannon.
“I… I don’t know. We were so busy with the wounded and all. I don’t know.”
“OK, OK, I understand. But the medics and the first sergeant are here now. They can look after them. I need you to check out your tank and find out if it can still fight. The Russians may come back. If they do, the Team will need every track it’s got. Grab your loader and do a thorough check, inside and out. When you’re done, report back to me. Is that clear?”
Gwent looked at Bannon, looked at the tank, then nodded. “Yes, sir.” With that, he called his loader over and told him what they needed to do. Together, they began to circle around their tank, checking the suspension and tracks in the gathering darkness, leaving Bannon alone for a moment to collect his own wits and decide what he needed to do next.
As soon as the wounded were on board the ambulance, it took off for the rear, making the best possible speed. Together with the first sergeant and Folk, Bannon watched until it had disappeared in the darkness. Only when it was gone did Harrert turn to Bannon and ask him about Uleski.
Before answering, Bannon looked over at the company’s M-113. He could hear the XO talking on the radio to battalion, sending up the SITREP, line by line. Uleski would be all right, he concluded and told Harrert as much before sending him to collect a dog tag from each of the bodies, if he could find one. Folk was sent over to the ITV with the damaged launcher to see if it could be driven. As they headed off to their tasks, Bannon made his way back to Alpha 66.
There he found Ortelli walking around the tank, checking the suspension and tracks. Every now and then he would stop and look closer at an end connector or pull out a clump of mud to check a bolt. Only when he was satisfied that the bolt was tight did continue on to the next one. Kelp was perched in the commander’s cupola, manning the machinegun and monitoring the radio. His eyes followed the first sergeant as he went about his grim task. When Kelp saw Bannon approach, he turned his head back to the east, doing his best to pretend he’d been scanning the dark hill across the valley for signs of enemy activity the whole time.
Bannon hadn’t realized how tired he was until he tried to climb up onto 66. He fell backwards when his first boost failed to get him on the tank’s fender. After resting for a moment with one foot on the ground, one foot in the step loop, and both hands on the housing of 66’s headlights, he took a deep breath and pulled for all he was worth. This time he made it up onto the fender where he paused, pondering his next move for a moment.
Decisions were becoming hard to make as he made his way over to the turret and sat on the gun mantlet with both feet on the main gun. Only now did he realize just how physically and mentally drained he was. So much had happened since morning. His world and the world of every man in the Team had changed. They hadn’t budged an inch from where they had been, but everywhere he looked was so foreign, so strange. What had been a lush, green valley was now a charnel house. The peaceful woods he’d stepped out into just before dawn was no more. As much as he had done to prepare himself for this day, he found it hadn’t been near enough. It was all too much for a tired brain to take in. Not that he tried. Instead, he let his mind go blank as he continued to sit there perched over the 105mm cannon of 66.