For the first time Uleski’s face showed expression as a small grin preceded a chuckle and his retort. “Yeah, especially this one.”
“Don’t be so smug, Ski. The only reason I like you is because I never knew you when you were a second lieutenant.”
Still grinning Uleski glanced over his shoulder at Bannon. “I never was a second lieutenant. Wouldn’t have any part of it and told the ROTC recruiter. Naturally, once they found out who I was, they agreed. So here I am, a full-grown US Army first lieutenant, guarding the frontiers of freedom and making the world safe for democracy.”
Bannon groaned as he shook his head. “God, the sun isn’t even up and already the bull is getting deep in here. I better get out before I drown in it.”
They both chuckled. It’s amazing what soldiers find humorous and amusing at 0234 hours.
“I’m going over to 3rd Platoon first and give Garger his early morning lecture on the meaning of radio listening silence. Then I’m going to swing by the Mech Platoon and see how they’re doing. I expect to be back for stand-to. When was the last time you checked the batteries?”
“About twenty minutes ago. They should be good until stand-to.”
“You better be right. I don’t want to have the track that both the CO and XO occupied be the only one that has to be slaved off in the morning. Bad for the image.”
With a feigned look of surprise on his face, Uleski snorted, “Image? You mean we’re going to start worrying about our image? Do you think the men can take it?”
“At ease there, first lieutenant. XOs as well as platoon leaders can get jacked up in the morning too, you know.”
Hunching his head down between his shoulders and putting his hands up in mock surrender, Uleski feigned whimpering. “Yes, sir, yes, sir, please don’t beat me too hard, sir,” before turning back toward the radio with a grin on his face.
Digging through the pile of junk that had been his bed, Bannon pulled out his gear and started to get ready. Field jacket, protective mask, web gear with weapon and other assorted attached to it, and, of course, his helmet. It was a ritual that always reminded him of a matador preparing for the arena. All the gear that the well-dressed American soldier was supposed to wear was definitely not designed with the armored vehicle crewman in mind. Bannon was reminded of this when he exited the PC through the small troop door that was part of the PC’s rear ramp. Climbing through this four-foot door was always a challenge. In the dark, with all one’s gear on made it that much more interesting. But at that hour in the morning, the last thing he needed was a challenge.
Once on the ground, it felt good to be able to stand upright and stretch his legs. The chill and early morning mist were refreshing after being in the cramped PC for hours. It reminded Bannon, however, more of an April or early May than August, for German weather in late summer was more like a New England spring.
The chill was not all bad. It not only cleared his mind, it allowed him to focus on matters at hand. Yesterday had been hot and sunny. With a hint of moisture as there was in the air, he expected the valley to the Team’s front would be shrouded in a heavy fog throughout most of the morning. That meant moving a listening post down into it even though the cavalry was still deployed forward. This was the Mech Platoon’s job. And though they would probably do so automatically as soon as they saw the fog rising, Bannon intended to remind them when he got there. The old saying, “The one time you forget to remind someone of something is the one time he forgets and it is the one time it really needed to be done,” kept buzzing through his head.
Ever so slowly Bannon’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He could now make out images of other nearby vehicles like the headquarters PC he had just exited pulled into the tree line. One track, an Improved Tow Vehicle or ITV, attached to the Team from the mech battalion to which Team Yankee was attached, sat forward at the edge of the tree line. Its camouflage net was off and the hammerhead-like launcher and sight was erect, peering down into the valley below. This track was one of the Team’s OPs, or observation posts, using its thermal sight to watch the Team’s sector of responsibility through the dark and now gathering fog.
Bannon walked over to the ITV to make sure the crew was awake, stumbling over roots and branches that reached up and grabbed his ankles while low branches swatted him in the face as he went. Stopping for a moment, he pushed the offending branches out of the way before going forward again, remembering this time to pick up his feet to clear the stumps and using his forearm to clear the branches. As he proceeded, Bannon decided that rather than fight the underbrush and roots on his way over to 3rd Platoon, he would skirt the tree line. This was not a good practice, but as it was dark and hostilities had not been declared yet, he decided to do it, one more time.
When he reached the ITV, the launcher’s hammerhead-like turret slowly moved to the right, indicating that the crew was awake and on the job. Knowing that they would have the troop door combat-locked, Bannon took out his buck knife and rapped on the door three times. As he waited for a response, the shuffle of the crewman on duty could be heard as he climbed back over gear and other crewmen to open the door. Struggling with the door handle, the crewman rotated the lever and let the heavy door swing out. Bannon was greeted by a dark figure hanging halfway out the door and a slurred, “Waddaya want?”
“It’s Captain Bannon. Anything going on down in the valley?”
When the ITV crewman realized whom he was talking to, he straightening up as much as the cramped opening he was standing in allowed. “Oh, sorry, sir, I didn’t know it was you, sir. No, we ain’t seen nothin’ all night ’cept some jeeps and a deuce ’n a half going up to the cavalry. Been quiet. We expectin’ somethin’?”
“No, at least not that I’ve heard. The cavalry should give us some warning. But just in case, I need you to stay on your toes. Checked your batteries lately?”
“Yes, sir, ’bout an hour ago we cranked her up and ran it for twenty minutes.”
“Ok. Keep awake and alert. Let the XO over there know if something comes along.”
After a perfunctory “Yes, sir,” the crewman closed his door and locked it as Bannon turned away and walked out to the edge of the tree line. It bothered him that he didn’t know the crewman’s name. He’d only seen that ITV crewman for the first time three days ago after the Team had pulled into its positions. That’s the trouble with attachments. You never know who you’re going to get, and you never get a chance to know them, not like his own people. Except for the fact that he was the CO and the Team headquarters track was parked nearby, the ITV crewman didn’t know much about him either. And yet, very shortly, they might have to take orders from him in combat. Bannon hoped the crew of the ITV trusted his ability to command in battle with the same blind faith that he placing in their ability to kill Russian tanks.
As he trudged over to the 3rd Platoon’s positions, he reviewed the Team’s dispositions and mission. The Team had gone over how it would fight its first battle time and time again using map exercises, terrain walks, battle simulations, and field training exercises, or FTXs, on similar ground. Still, Bannon was not totally satisfied that they were in the best possible positions to meet all eventualities.
Team Yankee was currently deployed on the forward slope of a large hill overlooking a river valley. The forest it was located in came halfway down the slope until it reached a point where it dropped all the way down onto the floor of the valley. That point was the Team’s left flank where Bannon’s 2nd Platoon was positioned. From there the platoon could fire across the face of the slope, into the valley or across the valley, toward the high ground across from them.