The tank commanders waved confidently at the German military and civilian police as their M-60s growled past. The occasional German civilian returned the wave. But, if the tank crews could see their faces close up, they would see the fear in their eyes. Another M60A1 rattled past, closely followed by an M113A2 artillery observation APC.
Chapter 7
The sentry in full battledress, combat DPMs bedecked with foliage, emerged from behind a tree, his self-loading rifle, SLR, unwavering as he challenged the soldier approaching the complex he was guarding. “Halt, who goes there?”
“Friend,” responded the soldier.
“Advance one, and be recognised.”
The soldier moved slowly forward, his SMG machine gun held in his right hand, pointing downwards so as not to spook the guard.
The sentry hissed more quietly, “King of Clubs.”
“Ace of Spades,” responded the soldier.
“Pass,” answered the Royal Signals infantryman who was guarding the entrance to the 22nd Armoured Brigade Headquarters complex, situated in the forest of Osterwald, north-west of the village of Elze, seven kilometres north-west of Gronau. The soldier made his way forward towards the entrance, and the sentry, recognising Lieutenant Wesley-Jones as an officer, saluted.
Wesley-Jones pushed his way through the tent flap of the entrance to the complex, a three-by-three-metre green tent, and was challenged again, this time by a Royal Military Police Lance-Corporal getting up from his seat behind a small square table inside.
“Could I see some identification please, sir?”
Wesley-Jones shouldered his SMG, returned the corporal’s salute and showed his identification card.
The RMP checked it. “Thank you, sir. The briefing starts in about five minutes if you would like to make your way in, sir.”
He thanked the young corporal and passed through the second tent flap on the other side, stepping out into an enclosed area, buzzing with the sound of activity, comms chatter, soldiers rushing to and fro, generators humming in the background. A brigade headquarters was significantly larger than that belonging to a battalion, regiment or even Battlegroup HQ. Scanning the complex, he familiarised himself with the layout. To his immediate right, perpendicular to the tent entrance, were three FV436 armoured command and control carriers, basically 432s with additional communications equipment installed within. The rear door of each one was facing inwards, each with a two-metre by two-metre penthouse tent fixed to the rear, making up the right-hand side of the oblong headquarters nexus. Each of the rear compartments of the 436s, and penthouses, were laid out differently, but most had a table and map boards, officers and men going about their business supporting the brigade that was forward, digging in to defend the River Leine. The first vehicle held the Air element, containing Air and Air Defence Liaison; the second was for artillery; and the third for the commanding officer of the close support engineer regiment. To the left of the entrance tent was a second nine-by-nine tent, occupied by clerks and more Royal Military Police. Perpendicular, on the left, was another line of 436s, making the left-hand side of the complex. These accommodated the commander of the brigade’s Signals Squadron and Yeomen-of-Signals in the first, G3-Operations in the second, the control station of the Brigade Commander, where his watchkeepers would be monitoring the brigade and divisional command networks, manned by the SO3 G3 and watchkeepers from a Territorial Army pool. The third vehicle contained G3-Plans, home of the Brigade Commander where, aided by the Brigade Major, arms advisers and visiting commands, he planned and conducted the battle.
At the opposite end, two further 436s were backed up to the headquarters complex, enclosing the entire HQ in an oblong secure area, accessible only through the main entrance. In one was the SO3-G2 Intelligence, supported by an Intelligence Corps Staff Sergeant and the NBC JNCO. The Full Corporal was responsible for plotting the fallout from any nuclear, chemical or biological attack, guiding the brigade command as to where they could move troops to safety, or move troops away from the path of any contaminated cloud or fallout. The second 436 contained the SO1, G1 and G4 watchkeepers, along with logistics operations. The entire complex measured roughly six metres wide by fifteen metres long; a target the Soviet air force, or Spetsnaz operation, would love to get their hands on. The HQ would not stay at this location long, keeping on the move and keeping the Soviet Electronic Warfare units guessing as to where they were.
Wesley-Jones headed for the nearest of the two large inner tents, the first one containing the operations bird table, the second the plans bird table. He bent down and thrust his head and shoulders through the flap and was met by a buzz of chattering that quietened as all eyes turned towards his entrance. The tent was packed with officers from the various elements that made up the 14/20th Kings Hussars Tank Regiment Battlegroup. The buzz of conversation restarted. Officers, from various forces and arms, were lined along each side of the table in the centre of the dimly lit mini-marquee.
“Come on in, Alex, don’t be shy.” Major Lewis, Commander of B-Squadron, also designated as Combat Team Bravo, laughed.
Red-faced, Alex made his way towards his Officer Commanding and was greeted by his fellow troop commanders and his Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Lawrence Clark. He was just one element of the combat team that had been brought together to be briefed by their CO and the Brigade Commander, Brigadier Terence Stewart. On the left-hand side of the tent, leaning up against the tables and chairs that lined that one side, normally manned by signallers and clerks, were the four squadron commanders, and on the opposite side, the fifteen troop commanders Alex would shortly join. Mixed in with the officers of 14/20th Kings Hussars were representatives of the Infantry, engineers, artillery, signals, air force and Army Air Corps.
Major Lewis moved alongside Alex.
“Is this a routine update, sir, or something special?”
“Just an update, Alex, keep us abreast of what’s going on around us.” The buzz was in full swing again, the soldiers also discussing what the briefing was likely to reveal.
“Do we have any idea of what’s happening, sir?”
“I’d like to think so. We have a big problem if we don’t. Look, the Brigadier will be with us in a minute, so I suggest you join your fellow officers over there. We’ll all know soon enough.”
“Will do, sir.”
Just as Alex had negotiated his way around the end of the table and over to the other side where he was greeted by his fellow troop commanders, an officer thrust aside the tent flaps allowing another figure to enter. Someone called the room to attention as the Brigadier and the Brigade Major made their way to the far end where the Brigade SO3-G2, the Staff Officer, Intelligence and Security, Captain Edward Rees, was pinning a large map of West Germany to a board resting on an even larger easel. Other map boards were pinned along, at certain points, on the tent’s sides. Brigadier Stewart turned to face the group. Slightly behind, and to his right, stood the Brigade Major, the officer equivalent to the Regimental Sergeant Major of a battalion or regiment; not a man to cross, whatever your rank. To their left were Captain Rees, Captain Neil Allen, SO3-G3 Ops and Staff Sergeant Douglas Owen, Intelligence Corps.
The Brigadier cleared his throat. “At ease, gentlemen.”
The assembled men relaxed slightly, waiting to receive the update from the Commander. Although some had an inkling of what had transpired, picking it up from snippets of radio conversations and discussions between the various command elements, this would be the first time they would collectively know what had occurred, what was still occurring in this battle, this war that had been thrust upon them.