Boggs popped his hatch and stood. “Chief, what do you think is up?”
Galen shrugged.
“You’re in charge of this cluster until Sevin gets here.”
“I know.” The radio net was silent. No traffic at all. The situation map was clear, with no enemy unit symbols showing.
Boggs said, “These infantry. Maybe we should find out who’s their new senior man?”
“You do that! Just dismount and do that! Now, Sergeant!” Galen was thinking about the light infantry Chief who had just died, shot, just like that.
Sergeant Boggs returned with a light infantry Sergeant, the mortar crew team leader. Galen removed his helmet.
“I’m not the senior Sergeant, but since I’m out of mortar ammo I got elected for the job of running the platoon.”
“You any good at it?”
“I’ve done it before.” He looked away.
“You have a name?”
“Sergeant Bocock. Call me Bo.”
“We lose anybody else besides your Chief?”
“No, we’re okay.”
“Good. I’ll do a casualty feeder report, get him in a body bag and give the card to higher.”
Sergeant Bocock stared at Galen for a moment. “Listen, Chief, we’re all pretty cranked up. I’ll take care of my platoon. We all know you’re overall in charge of this group, and that’s fine. But Chief Rodebaugh was one of ours. We’ll take care of him. We take care of our own.”
“You don’t under—” Galen stopped. “Okay, Bo... I understand.”
“I’ll be back with you shortly, Chief. I just have a few things to take care of first.”
Galen slumped down in his cupola seat and viewed the situation map. The column of Panzer Brigade vehicles was making its way down the bank of the river at top cross-country speed. He estimated they would arrive in about forty five minutes. Eight tanks, the remainder of the light tank company. They could potentially carry about a hundred passengers, so Galen assumed the rest of the light infantry company would arrive with them. A chill ran down Galen’s spine.
The rest of the light company plus the Major’s command element was approaching. He recovered from the fear of being chastised by a field-grade commander. He began planning the static defense of the area by a reinforced light infantry company and a recon tank company. He put the finishing touches on the plan and sent the data to zero two. The plan was returned with only one minor modification. The Major and his command element weren’t coming.
The markers for two light infantry companies, two dismounted panzer grenadier companies, and the marker for the Major’s command element showed on the situation map. They were working their way down the valley on the opposite side of the river, keeping to the high ridge to the south to avoid contact with the enemy. Galen estimated it would take them the better part of a day to walk as far west as his own position.
“Three three, this is three zero. Over.”
“This is three three.”
“Break out your spade. Dig bermed firing positions here. Over.” Galen marked nine points on the situation map. They were along the ridge of the low hill the unit occupied.
There was a brief pause. “Roger out.”
Three three backed out of the line and parked. The three crewmembers dismounted and unbolted the flat armor plate across the back of the vehicle. They removed two brackets from the vehicle’s tool box and bolted them to the plate. Two troops carried the plate to the front of the tank. The tank commander removed the four front hull drain plugs. The other two crew members held the plate in position while the tank commander ran heavy bolts through the mounting brackets and screwed them into the threaded holes of the hull drains. The Hornet now had a flat dozer blade on the front.
The crew mounted their vehicle. The driver used the hydraulic rear shock absorbers to jack up the back of the tank. The forward tilt put the blade into the ground. Three three began pushing mounds of dirt to create bermed firing positions along the low ridge. After they finished the job the crew removed the spade and bolted it back on the rear of their tank and parked in the firing position on the far right. The sun was overhead and it was starting to get hot.
“Good job, three three.” Galen had his tank park in the spot next to three three and had two three take the one to his left. Sevin’s convoy reached the position. Tanks zero one and zero two parked two hundred meters behind second platoon. First and second platoon occupied the remaining six firing positions on the skirmish line. The internal-secure commo light flashed on Galen’s panel. A free text message.
“Chief Raper, come see me.” It was from Master Sergeant Sevin.
Galen dismounted and walked over to tank zero one and climbed up on the rear deck. Sevin stood in his cupola with his helmet off, so Galen took off his helmet too.
“Chief, have a seat.”
Galen sat on the edge of the turret.
“Chief, I know what you did. You saw a tactical advantage and exploited it. You did a raid on the enemy guns. You got in close enough to drop mortars and got the hell out. But you did screw up one thing. You broke commo with me.” Sevin stared at Galen and waited for a response.
“I... I had to go. I had to think fast.”
“So you slapped off your command net.”
Galen looked to his left. He knew he was wrong.
Sevin leaned back in his turret. “I’ve done the same thing a time or two before. Hell, all tank commanders do it from time to time. But you have to remember to turn it back on. You have got to get in touch with me as soon as you get the chance.”
“I’ll just leave it on.”
“That isn’t the point! You were off my net for half an hour! No voice, no nothing! All your data comes to me over that command net and all my info gets to you the same way! Suppose I wanted to put some intel on your map? Hell, I thought you might be dead.”
“I won’t let it happen again.” Galen looked away.
“Damn right. Now here’s the deal. The Mosh commander is sending a full-strength motorized battalion after us. Your little stunt apparently pissed him off.”
“So we just sit here and do target practice?”
“We make it look that way. Then when they range us with their mortars, we fade into a mobile defense and keep giving up ground all night, then cross the river and link up with the Major’s group. Then maybe an end-run down the south bank of the river.”
Galen said, “We’ll be tired tomorrow. Amphetamines for breakfast?”
“You know better than that. No amphetamines until day three. Tomorrow is only day two. Get back to your tank.”
Galen walked back to three zero and climbed into the cupola. He put his helmet back on and watched his sector of the firing line.
Chapter Eighteen
“Nice planet,” Galen spoke through the vehicle internal communications system.
Sergeant Boggs stood in the auxiliary gunner hatch. “Kind of wish we could stay here on furlough.”
Trooper Jones sat in his driver’s seat with his helmet off so he could eat a field ration.
Galen watched a patrol re-enter the skirmish line. “What are they up to?”
Boggs said, “Setting out anti-personnel mines and clearing lanes of fire. We’re expecting a massed infiltration.”
“If I were the Mosh commander I’d make a full-strength attack against the main force at the low end of the valley.”
“It wouldn’t work.”
“Well, this won’t either.”
Boggs reached into the turret and pulled out a field ration. He took off his combat suit helmet and started eating. The sound of Jones securing his helmet and then the sound of his breathing came to Galen over the intercom. “Jones.”