The main power came back on line in Galen’s tank. He checked his situation map. This tank destroyer was positioned to cover the rear and left flank of the tank destroyer that had ambushed the panzer grenadier vehicles earlier that afternoon. It was concealed, dug in, covered with earth and electronically shielded. The infantry Chief had spotted it, though. Galen remembered the water maples growing too far away from the river.
“Three zero, what’s up?”
Galen sent a visual replay of the target engagement to Sevin. “We got good grunts, zero one. They pointed this out to me.”
“Of course they’re good, they’re light!”
“Roger that.”
“Zero one out. Uh, break, you got incoming.”
Galen slammed his hatch, “Floor it, driver!”
The situation map showed six red dots along the ridge Galen’s platoon was on, the predicted points of impact for the incoming enemy artillery shells. Sixteen seconds to impact. The infantry ran forward and down the slope of the hill towards the burning enemy tank destroyer. The tanks were ahead of them, cresting the next hill.
Galen popped his hatch and stood. “Stop here.”
Third platoon halted. Three three had its turret pointed to the right, firing its coaxial rail gun at a Mosh machine gun crew that was set up to protect the hidden tank destroyer from infantry attack. A squad of light infantry clumped beside Galen’s tank for cover. The ridge a hundred and fifty meters behind Galen exploded as the artillery shells crashed in. Three three stopped firing. The enemy machine gun was gone from the situation map.
Galen turned on his tank’s external loud speakers, “Mount up, we’re moving out. Mount up, we’re moving out.”
The infantry boarded the tanks. Galen counted eleven passengers and saw no friendly dismounts in the area. “Let’s go, stop at the base of the next hill. Get me out of the artillery’s arc.”
“Three zero, this is zero one. Report.”
Galen slapped the power switch to the aux, turning off the command net. He didn’t have time to chat with Sevin; he had a platoon to run. He had redleg looking for him and had to move before they could adjust their fire. The infantry Chief slapped the back of Galen’s helmet. Galen turned to see what he wanted. He pointed at his ears and mouth. Galen handed him a commo hand mike. “Hey DAT, what are we doing?”
“Going after some redleg. You have your mortars with you?”
“Yes. Only four, with four rounds of armor-seeking and twelve rounds of dual purpose.”
“Take a peek inside.” The infantry Chief stuck his head in the cupola and looked at the situation map. Galen pointed out the location of the enemy armored guns. “Eight more klicks and we got them.”
“The rest of the group is holding up. Maybe we should rejoin them.”
“Hell no. We just made a breakthrough; we have to exploit it. They can reform and roll up the flank we just tore open.”
“We’re just a platoon of infantry and three recon tanks. We can’t fight the whole enemy force.”
“I thought you were light.”
The infantry Chief thought for a moment. “Drive on! We’re light, by God!”
Galen switched to platoon push, “Keep a fifty meter interval. We’ll swing to the flat ground by the river and make a run to grid five five nine by three seven three. Then we cut into the draw at five five nine and go north to grid line four oh two and halt there.”
“Two three, roger out.”
“Three three, roger out.”
The tanks off.
Galen stopped on grid 56O/4OO.
“Pivot steer a three sixty, Jones.” The tank spun completely around twice, making a depression a half meter deep and four meters across in the dark brown sod of the grassy bottom land. “Pull forward fifteen meters.”
The tank stopped and Galen removed his helmet and spoke to the infantry Chief. “That’s exactly five six zero by four hundred.”
The infantry Chief made some hand gestures. The mortar crews began setting up their weapons in the dark circle of torn sod. “Good. Where’s the redleg?”
“Four three two seven by two six five three.”
The infantry Chief entered the grid coordinate into his handheld Combat Leader’s Digital Message Device. He jumped off the tank and spoke to the mortar team leader. “Quad, three seven six two. Elevation, nine seven five. Fuse, two one point seven five. Fire for effect, expend all rounds.”
The mortar crews made adjustments to the weapons and set the fuses of the 85mm warheads. They dropped the High Explosive/Anti Tank shells into the mortars. The shells launched with a hollow metallic whoosh. In less than ten seconds all their shells were headed down range. The mortar crews march-ordered their weapons and climbed back aboard the tanks.
Galen broadcast on platoon push, “Back to the rear, third herd.” He remembered the external loud speaker and decided to leave it on. He rode standing in his cupola hatch as his tank moved at top speed to rejoin the main body.
The infantry Chief used the hand mike again. “That was sweet. How’d we do?”
“Can’t tell until they fire again. Gotta have new ballistic data to determine enemy strength. But we tracked our own shells. Nineteen were within thirty meters and the other seven landed within sixty meters.”
“Not bad at all. Probably shook them up a bit.”
Galen turned on his aux, “Zero one, this is three zero, over.”
“About damned time you decided to get back with the program! You pissed me the hell off, Chief. If you wish to remain a Chief in the Jasmine Panzer Brigade, you will keep in touch with me at all times. Over.”
Galen waited. He didn’t understand the commander’s outburst. “Roger zero one.”
“You call a halt and go to ground and do a defense facing west, right where you’re at. I’ll be by shortly to reinforce your position. Out.”
The entire conversation was broadcast on his tank’s external speaker. Galen switched it off. “Halt, third herd.”
Galen removed his helmet and spoke to the infantry Chief.
“You get all that?”
“Yeah. Defense.”
“So where do you want me?”
“Get below the crest of this ridge so we’re not silhouetted and we’ll dig in between you and on either flank. I’ll put an O.P. at the top of the low hill. My CP will be the back deck of your tank.” He made some hand gestures and the infantry platoon began setting their skirmish line.
“Sevin sounded really pissed off,” said Galen.
“Don’t worry, I’ll back you up. We kicked ass.”
The infantry Chief was about to climb off the tank when he slumped over and fell face down on the tank’s back deck. A burst of rail gun and laser fire came from two three, hitting a sniper on the southern ridge across the river, eighteen hundred meters away. A puddle of blood began to ooze from under infantry Chief’s chest. Galen climbed out of his cupola and rolled the Chief over. His chest was a bloody mess, the white bone of the rib cage showing and the sharp edges of busted bone surrounded a cavity large enough to hold a grapefruit. Maybe if he had zipped up the front of his combat vest like he was supposed to instead of wearing it open…
Blood smeared the sides of Galen’s helmet as he put it back on, “Driver, park us in the middle gap of the grunt line.” Galen got a moist towelette from his hygiene gear and cleaned the blood off his helmet and gloves.