Wesley-Jones lowered his binoculars and took a long drink from his now cooling mug of coffee. The banshee sound of the ARV disappeared into the distance as it headed back across the river to support the rest of the combat team in preparing their positions. They wouldn’t pull into their berms until the last minute, initially staying well into the treeline, knowing that any attack would be preceded by a heavy artillery bombardment or air strike. To his left was Two-Two-Bravo, and to his right the other member of his troop. When the moment was right, they would shoot forward, settle into their defilade positions and take out any enemy tanks that presented them with a target. They were too small a unit to make a huge impact, but would delay the enemy long enough to allow the units behind to dig in deep.
Spotting movement on the road ahead, he placed his black plastic, half-moon-shaped mug on the top of the turret and picked up his binos again. Roughly 500 metres out, he could see a 432 towing a trailer, followed by two engineers on foot. The engineers were manually placing eleven-kilogram barmines, anti-tank mines, on a conveyor belt that fed them to the trailer. On pallets of seventy-two mines each, the FV432 could carry 144 mines which were automatically armed as they passed along the conveyor. The minelayer was automatically digging a furrow, laying the mines into it at the correct depth and spacing, and filling in the furrow once laid. In just over an hour, a front of over 600 metres could be laid by just this one vehicle. Laying mines either side of the road would protect their flanks, forcing the enemy towards the centre where they could be hit from the flanks. The goal was to lay enough to enforce a killing zone. Main battle tanks, or mechanised infantry combat vehicles such as the BMP-1 or BMP-2, would hit the minefield and be brought to a halt. This would enable the defending forces to finish them off. The Soviet commander’s only option then was to bring forward mine-clearing equipment, making another target for the NATO forces controlling the killing ground. Forward artillery and air observers would also be watching, ready to bring even more destruction down on top of the advancing enemy.
Patsy popped his head out of the turret and pulled himself up onto the edge, his feet dangling over the turret side, resting on the top of the smoke discharger unit.
“OK, Corporal Patterson?”
“Yes, sir. Just wondering what’s happening to our families.” The twenty-five year-old corporal looked worried. His cam-blackened face revealed the odd white vertical streak, and Wesley-Jones wondered if his NCO had been crying. His heart went out to him. Although he wasn’t married and had no children of his own, or none that he knew of, he had picked up an atmosphere of dread amongst some of the ‘Pads’. He smiled inwardly. The nickname for married soldiers who had their own pad, was not meant to be derogatory; just a little jealousy from single soldiers at their comrades living in a flat or house of their own, free of the barrack-block mentality. “It’s Victoria, isn’t it? Your daughter?”
Patsy smiled, pleased his commander had remembered. “Yes. We call her Vicky. My mother-in-law hates us shortening her name. Game on.” He chuckled. “This can’t be for real, can it, sir?”
The lieutenant pondered for a moment, considering how to respond; torn between being a troop commander, yet wanting to share his doubts with a fellow human being. There might be a few military ranks between them, but these were his troop: men he had trained with for over a year now. He had come to know them well, understanding their quirks and sometimes helping with their problems.
“It seems to be the case, Corporal. There was a lot of expected activity as a consequence of the large Soviet roll out for Hammer 84, but the troop movements that are being picked up now contradict those perceived intentions of a peaceful training exercise.”
“Do we know when they’ll come, sir?”
“I don’t honestly know. But, when they do cross, Four Division will hold them for as long as possible.”
“That’s a pretty big force, sir.”
Wesley-Jones looked at his corporal, the number two of his tank. He didn’t think it was right to be anything but honest with him.
“Twenty-four hours tops. They are spread across a front of nearly ninety-kilometres. All they can hope to do is delay them.”
“Surely they can do more than that?” responded Patsy, his voice with a hint of panic in it, realising that they could be possibly be engaging the Soviet tanks as soon as in twenty-four hours.
“They’re not strong enough to hold them back. So, it’s about hitting the enemy hard and then pulling back to fight another day. Then they can become the reserve and come to our rescue.” Wesley-Jones laughed, trying to ease Patsy’s concerns. “They asleep down there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Give Trooper Mackinson another hour; then he can take stag while you get some shut-eye.”
“What about you, sir?”
“The OC will be around soon. Once he’s paid us a visit, I’ll grab some sleep.”
The platoon sergeant, Bob Thomas, was talking to the section commander, Corporal David Carter, as they watched a light-wheeled tractor using its rear bucket to dig pits for defensive positions to protect the unit setting up. A JCB410, a rough-terrain forklift tractor, dropped a pallet of pre-shaped corrugated sheet metal panels close by. Half-moon-shaped, with interlocking edges, the panels would enable the soldiers of the Royal Green Jackets to quickly build good defensive positions, providing them with some cover from an enemy bombardment. The LWT finished its job and left, it too joining the force that was rapidly building up on the western bank.
“Let’s get this lot organised then, eh, Dave.”
“Yes, Sarg. The sooner I have some cover, the better I’ll feel. And we can finally get a bloody brew going.”
In consultation with the combat team and platoon commander, it had been agreed that they would not occupy the village. It was bound to be targeted by artillery or fighter bombers, and they could end up being at greater risk with buildings collapsing around them. So, they were digging in along the edge. Directly ahead and to the right, they had a clear field of view. Half right was the only problem. Less than five hundred metres away was a conurbation of half a dozen houses, Gut Dotzum. The sergeant was reluctant to put any men in there in case they became isolated and cut off during an attack. The solution had been simple. Two Scimitars would sit there to discourage any enemy forces using the buildings, and to provide early warning of any sneak attack, the enemy using the houses to block the defenders’ view. Two Chieftains dug in on the edge of Wallenstedt, a kilometre to the south, could fire into their exposed flank. Pre-prepared artillery and mortar fire could be called in quickly to target any enemy concentrations on the other side of the small estate. The engineers had also been busy, laying off-route anti-tank mines along the side of the road. The French mine was designed for vehicle ambush, placed at the side of the road with a thin electric ‘breakwire’ laid across the road. Once a vehicle broke the wire, they would be struck by a powerful shaped-charge.
Sergeant Thomas walked along the line of foxholes being padded out with corrugated prefabs. One of the Milan firing points was already part finished, the crew of two building overhead cover, camouflaging, so it would be difficult to spot them from the air. The Milan-2s, a second generation anti-tank weapon, the firing post mounted on a tripod, was ready in place in the dugout. Mounted on the side of it was a Milan missile, a second encased missile lying alongside ready for immediate use. When a target came into view, all the operator had to do was keep the aiming mark on the target and the SACLOS guidance system would deliver it onto the target. Its maximum range of 2,000 metres would be more than adequate to deal with the enemy when they broke out into the open. Satisfied that the Gympy SF team, the second Milan firing point and the Mortar Fire Controller were getting on with their work, Thomas went into one of the houses in the vilage behind, climbed to the second storey and made his way into one of the side rooms where L/Cpl Graham was keeping watch over the ground ahead.