"About an hour, sir."
"Hope you can hold your breath a fucking long time. Dismissed."
Douglas gave him a short grin, then dropped it and hurried back to repacking his ammo. DeWitt watched him go. Dammit to hell. What could he do next? He had to keep them apart. He could do that in the field, but if they had a full day and a night here on the carrier, anything could happen. He'd caution Mahanani to keep a close eye on both of them.
Lieutenant General Richard F. Reynolds studied the wall map that still showed the front lines of the North's invasion. The bulge was greatest daggering at Seoul. It was still twelve miles away, eighteen miles from the Eighth Army Headquarters. What he wouldn't give right now for a pair of fully outfitted U.S. Army quick-response battalions. He quit dreaming. All but one sector of the 151-mile-long front line was manned by South Korean units. They were sharp, well trained, with good U.S. weapons, but they were still ROKs. Some had held, some had fought valiantly in spite of overwhelming odds. Now the front line was relatively stable. Four days of war and not a hell of a lot to show for it.
Yes, the South troops were holding. Partly because the North had a massive supply problem. They had overextended in some areas and were paying for it. There had been some counterattacks to retake strategic high ground, but no big move on either side.
He had air superiority. The Navy planes had been a real help. Now he had to figure where to put a thrust. He had a two-division reserve. Not much, but it would have to do. The bulge toward Seoul would be the logical point of attack. But he and some of his top staff had thought about doing a dogleg. Striking quickly through a weak point to the east of Seoul where the current MLR had been pushed back only three miles from the old DMZ.
Ram through there with tanks and troops and plunge in five miles north, then take a sharp right turn and jolt through mostly unprotected countryside for fifteen miles before turning south and trying to cut off the eight to ten thousand troops and armor that the North must have on line against Seoul. If he could cut them off for three days, it might be enough to bottle up the troops and slice them to pieces with artillery and air.
His senior command had been highly in favor of it. They would start with artillery along the line, then a fake attack near the Seoul bulge, and at the same time launch their major thrust north at Changdan. It should work.
Tanks, how many tanks did he have to have that he could commit? It would take two battalions of tanks, twenty-eight of them. That should do it. They could lead the attack, drop off one here and there for protection along the line, and then race across the bulge if they could toward Songu-ri. Yes. He liked it. His staff had liked it. The ultimate decision was up to him.
He turned to his phone and called Switzer, his tank commander.
"Yeah, I can give you twenty-eight tanks. We patch two outfits together and have Major Kitts in charge of the new Ninety-first. When do you want them and where?"
Reynolds made three more calls, then got his staff together and told them it was a go. They would push off at first light the next morning. All tanks and troops and a supply column with food and ammunition and supplies would be ready to follow the troops.
General Reynolds sat back in his chair and tried to relax. In the morning he was committing over ten thousand South Korean troops to a major battle. He made certain Major Hawkins had all the facts when he talked to the Navy. Hawkins was his Air Liaison officer with the CAG on the carrier. The Navy ground-attack planes would be there to help the troops. Yes, everything done or in motion.
In an hour he'd fly down to the Point of Departure and see how things were shaping up. They had time enough to get the troops down there and the tanks. Most of the movement would take place after dark so they didn't tip off the North. Yes, if this worked they could trip up the whole invasion and then throw the NK remnants back across the DMZ.
Would the United Nations let them chase the NKs all the way back to Pyongyang and end this thing once and for all? From what he'd heard so far, the North Korean equipment was still basically what the Soviets had given them ten years ago. It was old and wearing out and falling to pieces. He was surprised they had surged as far over the DMZ as they had. He had sent a top-priority radio request to the President of the United Nations General Assembly that morning asking if his UN troops had to stop at the DMZ. He'd hoped for a quick reply. So far, no word.
His sergeant major poked his head in the door. "General, better hit the floor. We've got an air raid warning. Not sure if the planes will get through, but they have ordnance. The North Korean jets are less than three minutes away and could launch missiles at any time."
15
Major Donovan Kitts checked with his men again. He was back to full strength with the 91st, but with only six of his tanks and crews from his former unit. The 32nd, which had been battered as badly as his bunch, was blended in with his machines. He had his six vehicles in the point of the attack.
At the last briefing, General Reynolds himself had told them that their line-crossers had reported no armor and not over a company of North Koreans directly opposite them. The 91st would slash through the first line and see what was in the rear areas. Five miles, then a fast turn to the right for a run across the countryside. He had trained in some of this South Korean land.
His only problem would be holding back so the infantry could keep up with their advance. They had to secure the area as they moved. Maybe three miles an hour. It would work.
He went to each tank and talked to the tank commander, meeting some of the men from the 32nd for only the second time. Urging them to do their level best.
"This is one strike that could put a fatal thrust into the whole invasion," he said. "If we can bottle up those forces facing Seoul, and take them out, the whole damn invasion could just evaporate."
"Yeah, but if they riddle us, kill our tanks, and slaughter these ROKs, our asses are really in a sling," one of the tank commanders said.
Kitts grinned. "Yeah, truly. So let's keep our behinds out of any slings."
He could see some of the vehicles and troops behind his tanks. The other tank battalion would lead a thrust a half mile to the left of them. If all went well, the two columns would merge at the five-mile point north and swing due west.
Kitts slid down through the hatch on his tank and waited. He'd trained for three years for this night. In those three years he'd had exactly two days of combat. Now it would be a little more. They had to do well. They would do well.
The artillery opened up at precisely 0445. It was almost an hour to sunrise. The artillery started far to the west and worked one unit at a time eastward, until the whole thirty mile front rang with exploding artillery rounds.
He heard the whispers as the 105 and 155 rounds whistled overhead and exploded less than half a mile away. The rounds went in for ten minutes in front of them, three or four a minute exploding in a deadly choreography of death.
Then it was quiet. Ten minutes later jet aircraft dove on the MLR of the North Koreans and unleashed cannon fire and air-to-ground missiles.
At 0510, just as dawn crept over the far hills, the order to move out came. Kitts ordered his tanks to button up and advance with him. He was the first tank in the diamond formation, and thrust forward in his assigned direction. They passed through the South Korean MLR in a narrow path, then expanded in their diamond and charged ahead over the uneven ground at fifteen miles an hour.
Over five hundred troops followed closely behind the clanking, roaring vehicles of sudden death.