Выбрать главу

“Our Political Officer has something to say. Then I want to go through the plans that have been agreed. We will go over them until I am satisfied that you can repeat them in your sleep. Then regimental commanders can return to their units. I, along with my key staff, will change location soon. Those bloody British signallers will think it’s Christmas when we start transmitting. But until we get our movement orders, it’s radio silence. Understood?”

His officers acknowledged, equally fearful of an air or artillery strike being brought down on top of them.

“Over to you, Comrade Arkaldy.”

Chapter 26

2010 7 JULY 1984. CORPS PATROL UNIT. SOUTH-EAST OF LEHRTE, WEST GERMANY.
THE BLACK EFFECT −8 HOURS.

Wilf signalled for Tag to come forward, while Hacker and Badger watched their tail.

“If we go west now, follow these hedge lines, it should take us to Erich Segen. According to the map, there are just a few buildings scattered about. There, we can cross the 443 and the railway line before we push north. I want to follow the railway line for a while, see what traffic is about. Make sense?”

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Tag.

“Fetch the other two.”

Tag went back, briefed the other two, then brought them forward to Wilf’s position. Tag took point and, in the evening gloom, guided the patrol west, the patrol constantly on the alert for Soviet forces, Soviet rear security and even locals, particularly dogs that might give away their position. They had spent the entire night tabbing fifteen-kilometres to circuit the large town of Lehrte, which was now about three kilometres to their north-west. Travelling east, they kept well north of the outskirts. On their route, they crossed under the E8/A2 autobahn where they had reported back to HQ the heavy movement of troops; in particular, lots of heavy artillery. There, they found cover and waited out the daylight hours until it was safe to move again. In the meantime, they fed back their sightings to 1 BR Corps headquarters. Now they were on the move again. It was eight-ten pm, 7 July. The going was OK, so long as they stuck close to the hedges. Moving too far off brought them into rutted fields where the soil stuck to their boots making their tab difficult. There was just enough light to enable them to see where they were going, but not too bright that they stood out for all to see. Occasionally they would stop for ten minutes, and Wilf would scan the area with his image intensifier, enabling him, looking through a green haze, to spot any suspicious movement. The enemy would know they were there, or at least they would suspect that special forces would be snooping around and reporting back, but they hadn’t come across any excessive security or patrolling. The Soviets seemed to have one purpose in mind: to push west as quickly as possible. The CPU had to be careful at major crossroads or bridges, or at least the ones still standing, as these always appeared to be guarded well, often with a platoon, at least. Wilf suspected that there were other bridges, military ones, built by Soviet engineers to keep the flow of military traffic moving, particularly supplies needed by the army that must be using them up at a rapid rate. When Wilf stopped, he also checked his sat nav as well as the map. It was important they knew where they were at all times, particularly if a planned air or arty strike was in the offing. He shifted his equipment into a more comfortable position and signalled they move. Although they weren’t carrying their heavy forty-kilogram Bergens, they still had a lot of supplies of food, water, ammunition and explosives with them. Once this mission was over, they would return to the Mexe-hide, rest up, and restock before their next task. After about three-kilometres and two hours of tabbing, they could hear the rumble of traffic on the road that was about 300 metres ahead. Tag signaled, and the CPU formed a circle.

Tag whispered to the three men. “The buildings are about 200 metres to our north and the road about 300 to our west. I reckon it’s too risky crossing here, so I suggest we move a kilometre south to the small copse that straddles the road. We can cross there.”

“Makes sense, Tag. Badger, you take point, then me, Tag, and, Hacker, you’ve got tail-end-charlie. Let’s go.”

Badger led them south, his C7 carbine, with its C79 optical sight, following the movement of his eyes, ready to react, knowing they were very close to the enemy at this moment in time. They were a close team and instinctively knew what to do, how to react. Badger would watch their front, to the south, but keeping an eye towards the road; Wilf would watch their left arc; Tag the right arc, where he could hear a steady drone of traffic; and Hacker, with his beloved M-16 A2 with an under slung M203 grenade launcher, would cover their backs. Wilf felt surprisingly secure, and judged that, should it come to a firefight, they would give their best.

After thirty minutes, Badger brought them to a halt at the edge of a small copse, no more than 400 metres long and less than 150 metres across. He guided them inside, and it was quite eerie to suddenly be in an enclosed area, the light they had been moving by, now blocked out. The copse smelt musty, but with a lingering tang of diesel fumes that had drifted in from the road. Badger knew what he was doing and led them south for a further twenty-metres before moving west towards the road. They formed a circle again and Badger went forward to recce the road. They knew this was going to be a difficult task; the volume of traffic sounded quite heavy.

Badger came back, collected the team and, with two facing away from the road, Wilf and Badger watched the traffic pass by. The rattle of caterpillar tracks got closer and closer, and were soon revealed to be SA-6 surface-to-air missile launchers, six at a time, with radar vehicles, box-body control vehicles, and the occasional MTLB interspersed between them. Just as Wilf was preparing the order to cross, the rattle of tracks grew louder again as a battery of 2S-5s passed them, heading south towards Sehnde. Convoy lights only, getting ready for a big push, thought Wilf. No point in radioing in just yet.

1 BR Corps was expecting another attack in the morning. As a stay-behind force, it was their task to seek out the Divisional Headquarters and guide the bombers, or artillery, onto the target. As a Corps Patrol Unit, CPU, it was their mission to report directly to the Commander of 1 Br Corps. As members of the 21st Special Air Service Regiment, patrolling behind enemy lines, keeping the British army abreast of what was occurring to their front, was their primary task.

The minute there was a break in the flow of traffic, which lasted for only forty-five seconds, they crossed. A short stretch found them on the western edge of the wooded area, and the unit quickly crossed over the railway line that ran south to north. They turned north, using dead ground to shield themselves from any prying eyes. Their objective was an opencast mining site which, during hours of darkness, should be unoccupied. The team would use it in the hope of avoiding contact with the Soviet military. Wilf felt sure that if they avoided the larger forests and farms, particularly those with large barn complexes, they should be OK. They arrived at the quarry and made their way to the northern edge, and Wilf and Badger scanned the route that lay in front of them; Wilf with his image intensifier, Badger with standard binos.