The squadron hadn’t got off scot-free. B-troop, covering the northern section of Escherde, had been completely wiped out. Something had given them away and the Soviet air force had all but flattened the village north of the road, completely destroying all three of the Challengers and killing their crews. One of the tanks of the troop south of the road had suffered minor damage and was already racing west down the road that would take them through Heyersum, the location of the squadron HQ, then north-west to cross the river where the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (REME) would attempt to work their magic. But of the six tanks defending that stretch, they were now down to two. Combat Team Charlie had received a battering, losing three tanks and one damaged while the units west of the river, although receiving the bulk of the arty and air attention, had lost only two tanks between them, one with minor damage. Still, for a tank regiment to lose eight of their fifty-six, plus three damaged and one broken down, without firing a shot was of concern to all.
“Delta-Four-Alpha! Explosion our north-west. They’re breaching the minefield.”
“Roger. Is there smoke? Over.”
“Negative, no smoke. Can now see figures three, Tango-Eight-Zero, 1,500 metres, north-west my position.”
“Delta-Four-Bravo, standby. Zero-Delta, three, Tango-Eight-Zeros, 1,500 metres north-west call sign Delta-Four-Bravo. Request strike, stop line Jackdaw. Over.”
“Delta-Four-Alpha, Delta-Four-Bravo. Explosion east of my position. Target 1,500 metres, Bravo-Mike-Papas, possibly four.”
“Roger. Out to you. Zero-Delta. Target, 500 metres east of stop line Jackdaw, request strike. Over.”
“Zero-Delta Roger.”
“Delta-Four-Alpha! This is Delta-Four-Bravo! Eight, I repeat eight Tango-Eight-Zeros 1,200 metres north-west. Ten, I repeat ten, Bravo-Mike-Papa-Twos 300 metres east of Jackdaw. Permission to engage. Over.”
“Negative. Hold your fire.”
“This is Zero-Delta, to all Delta call signs. Shot out.”
“Delta-Four-Bravo and Charlie. Shot out, batten down.”
“Roger.”
“Roger.”
“Six-Three, Six-Three-One. Breached minefield. Advancing.”
“Six-Three, Six-Three-Four. Engineers through minefield. First company, moving. Out.”
“Like a dream,” purred Antakov.
“Six-Three, Six-Three. Under heavy artillery fire! Two call signs destroyed. No three!”
“Call sign, identify yourself!”
“Six-Three, Six-Three-Four. It’s a cauldron. Over. I’ve lost contact with more of my call signs.”
“Six-Three-Four, you are relieved of command. Major Petrov, are you receiving? Over.”
“Petrov receiving! Driven through the barrage, lost two vehicles. Once clear, we hit scattered mines. Request urgent mine-clearing support. Over.”
“Understood. Assume immediate command of Six-Three-Four. Acknowledge.”
“Roger. Assuming command. Six-Three-Four-Alpha, Bravo and Charlie. Move 300 metres west, create smoke and wait for engineers to clear scattered mines.”
“Turn it up,” ordered Trusov.
The crackle of the speaker became louder, the sense of panic identical. Voices could be heard calling for help; only the call signs were different.
“Six-One, Six-One-One. Under heavy artillery fire. Two units lost. 1,000 metres east Escherde.”
“Six-One-One, expect mines at less than 1,000 metres east of Escherde. Get your rollers forwards.”
“Six-One, Six-One-Four. First company at outskirts Escherde, two units lost. Second company sweeping north-east.”
“Six-One-One, situation? Over.”
“Six-One. Two units down, one unit damaged track. Mine clear in operation. Estimate through scatter mines in two minutes. Over.”
“Understood. Urgent you get west of Escherde.”
“Roger.”
“Momentum is being maintained, sir.”
Trusov didn’t answer Antakov. He was trying to get an impression of the battlefield in his mind. His eyes flickered over the map as more Soviet aircraft roared low overhead. Yes, they had taken casualties from the artillery strike, and they would lose more from the minefield and the scatter mines, but if they could keep pushing on. To get bogged down now, amongst the minefields, they would have no room to manoeuvre and would be at the mercy of any British armour, and if the NATO air force could get through, it would be a disaster.
“Six-One, Six-One. Contact. Armour in south Escherde. One unit destroyed, one damaged.”
“Use your call sign, Six-One-One. Move south, skirt the village.”
“Six-One, this is Six-One-Four. First company pushing through Emmerke. Second company entering from the north. Third company bypassing, approaching western edge.”
“Delta-Four-Alpha. Contact. One thousand metres. One, Tango-Eight-Zero-mine-roller, two, Tango-Eight-Zero, through minefield. Permission to fire. Over.”
“Four-Bravo, Four-Charlie. Weapons free.”
“Roger.”
“Roger.”
Chapter 17
Lieutenant Colonel Ivakin tapped his watch, then held up five fingers to the pilot of the Mi-8 Hip helicopter, the noise making it impossible to have a conversation, the internal comms system working intermittently. The pilot nodded, indicating that he agreed that they were five minutes away from their landing zone. He and his battalion were finally going to get to grips with the NATO soldiers who always thought themselves superior to the Soviet conscript army. Here was an opportunity for his battalion to demonstrate their skills and show the British just how wrong they were. Thirty-seven Mi-Hook helicopters were strung out in a line, some carrying BMD mechanised infantry combat vehicles, others carrying his troops. High above, Soviet Interceptors were keeping the skies clear of enemy fighters and bombers, and, ahead and on their flanks, armed Mi-8 Hips and Hind attack helicopters were smothering the enemy in a blanket of fire. The companies that had parachuted in earlier had secured the landing sites, encountering very little opposition.
A second battalion was also on its way and, between the two of them, they would swamp the British defenders around Gronau, either forcing their way to the bridge and securing it, or cutting off any retreating troops if the enemy were able to destroy the bridge. The remaining two battalions would also be in the air; a mix of AN-12 Cubs, IL-76 Candids and AN-12 Cocks were at this very minute dropping the Soviet paratroopers in a ring around Benstort. Two battalions cutting off Gronau, and two battalions securing the gap between Salzhemmendorf and Osterwald. The British didn’t have a chance. The two company-sized units had already reported back that the landing zones they had been sent to capture and secure were in their hands. For an hour, the guns from two divisions, along with 3rd Shock Army level artillery, had been pounding any location they believed to contain a defending unit.