He looked at each of the section commanders. The NCOs from his original platoon seemed relatively calm, considering what they had been through during the last twenty-four hours. The new men, on the other hand, seemed less relaxed and slightly nervous. The loss of their platoon commander and platoon sergeant had hit them hard.
“Situation.” He pointed to the map pinned up on the inside of the wide-open 432 door. “We appear to have two heliborne assaults north and south of Gronau, on this side of the river. There have also been two para landings. One here, west of Benstort, north and south of the road… ” He peered at the map. “The road that links Benstort to Hemmendorf. The second one east of Benstort, north and south of Esbeck.”
He looked at his men again, checking their level of attention. He was pleased with what he saw: even the new members of the platoon started to appear more alert and less tense. Maybe they finally had something to occupy their minds with, something to do. Perhaps even the thought of hitting back.
“Mission: move directly to the village of Marienau, here, just south-east of Coppenbrugge. We are to hold and prevent the enemy from moving to Coppenbrugge. Questions?”
Corporal Jenkinson piped up, “What is the air threat, sir?”
“In regard to the Soviet air force and their bombers, I’m not sure. But we know they have Hip and Hind attack helicopters. No doubt they will be sniffing out the route.”
“Try and get them as they pass you,” advised Colour Sergeant Rose. “Their cockpits are protected by titanium. Even the bloody blades are made of titanium. But if you fire at them from behind, you stand a better chance of hitting the tail boom or the engines.”
The Corporal nodded his understanding.
“Do they have tanks then, sir?” asked Corporal Stubbings.
“Not main battle tanks, but they will probably have ASU-85s, with an 85mm gun that could do us some damage. Then they will have their BMDs, the airborne equivalent of the BMP.”
“I’ve got photos and silhouette pictures of both. Once we’re in position, we can go through them to refresh all our memories,” Colour Sergeant Rose informed them.
“Any more?” asked the Lieutenant. “No? Good. How many mortar bombs do you have, Corporal Burford?”
“Forty in each 432, sir, plus six each of smoke.”
“Excellent. We move out in two. I’ll lead with One-One-Bravo, through to One-One-Foxtrot. Let’s go.”
Russell looked back, hanging onto the GPMG pintle. The next 432 in his platoon was following behind, the third further back again. He would be happier once they were dug in. He wasn’t comfortable driving out in the open like this, particularly in broad daylight, but speed was critical if they were get to their new location in a timely manner.
Chapter 18
“Two-Two-Alpha, this is Bravo-Zero.”
“Bravo-Zero, go ahead. Over.”
“Keep your heads down. You have help on the way.”
“Roger that, Bravo-Zero. We’ve heard heavy heli activity to our south. Over.”
“We have numerous air assaults in progress our side of the river. A call sign is coming to bolster your position. Hold tight.”
“Roger, Bravo-Zero. Out.”
“Two-Two-Delta, this is Two-Two-Alpha. Sitrep. Over.”
Before the infantry unit to their south could answer, Alex heard another flight of the shells go overhead, again going west to east. At last, our artillery is finally giving the Sovs some of their own medicine, he thought.
“Two-Two-Alpha, this is Two-Two-Delta. We’re still holding. Heavy casualties. Need urgent medical evacuation.”
Alex could hear the thumps of explosions coming from the direction of the enemy troops.
“Two-Two-Delta, wait. Bravo-Zero. Heavy arty fire all along the line. They’re pounding the Sov positions. Over.”
“Understood. Out.”
“Two-Two-Delta. Help is on the way. Will keep you posted. Do the best you can. Out.”
He looked down into the turret and spoke into the intercom. “Take us forward, slowly.”
The Chieftain lurched forward.
“Left.” Alex searched through the vision blocks, finding a gap in the trees. “Right, right, right, forward. About 200 metres.”
He searched the skyline, seeking out any Hind-Ds that might be hovering, waiting for his and any other Chieftain tank to appear.
They crept forward, the sound of the artillery barrage getting louder and louder, plumes of smoke scarring the horizon.
“Fifty metres.”
He needed to get them into their alternate berm where they would have a 180-degree view of the ground in front. It was risky going close to an old position, but he needed to see what was happening.
“Stop, stop.” The tank ground to a halt. “Keep your eyes peeled, Corporal Patterson.”
“Roger that, sir.”
Ahead the ground erupted with explosions as round after round fell amongst the Soviet armour. A battery of Abbots had joined in along with M109s, the heavier M110s and the long range M107s. At last, thought Alex, they were getting some support and the enemy was getting a taste of its own medicine. The bombardment stopped, and the battlefield from Betheln to Eitzum was strewn with the wreckage of armoured vehicles. One of the 438s was still operating; a Swingfire missile flew towards a retreating BMP-2. Another brewed up as it was hit by Two-Two-Charlie. Two-Two-Charlie targeted a second tank.
Alex pushed up the hatch cover, ducking as two aircraft, one after the other, flew low overhead. The twin-engined Tornados powered past, splitting up, banking left and right, pulling Gs as the pilots pulled back on the stick, radioing their sighting to their two fellow pilots three kilometres back. The rearmost aircraft each released a Maverick air-to-ground tactical missile. Both, travelling at over 1,000 kilometres an hour, hit home. Guided by an imaging infrared system, the fifty-seven kilogram shaped charges slammed into a T-80 and an SA-9. No sooner had they destroyed their targets when all four Tornados released another round of missiles.
Alex’s spirits rose, until he saw one of the aircraft going down after being hit by an SA-6 missile. No sooner had the Tornados delivered their lethal load than a flight of Harriers attacked the Soviet armour north of Heinum. They too lost one of their number. A flight of six SEPECAT Jaguars from the Royal Air Force’s № 31 Squadron picked up where they left off. Originally from RAF Bruggen, they had been moved further west due to the rapid Soviet advance and further attacks by Spetsnaz forces. Only now were they able to get back into the fight. More Soviet armour suffered from the onslaught. But the ground-attack aircraft had to disperse after two were shot down by Soviet fighters. The Soviet air force was also taking casualties as two Rapier missiles eventually hit home, once the technicians had fixed the glitches as a consequence of the rough journey the tracked Rapier units had getting into position.
Silence. It was six twenty-five. They had been fighting for less than two hours, but were exhausted. They were in need of fuel and ammunition, and Alex wanted to go in search of Two-Two-Bravo, check on the infantry unit, and get an update regarding their relief. The Soviets had taken a beating, but Alex knew they would be back, with a vengeance. 7th Guards Tank Division, of 3rd Shock Army, had lost twenty-four T-80s and eighteen BMP-2s. For the moment, the Soviet airborne troops were on their own.