He saw a map on the wall with concentrations of machine gun killing zones. Then the tour was over and they headed back.
"I'd like to see the tanks," The Vice President said. Colonel Lauderdale hesitated only a moment, but it was enough to stir the Vice President's curiosity.
''Are they off-limits, Colonel?"
"No, sir, Mr. Vice President. Theirs is a special unit, highly trained and on a nervous edge most of the time. But for you we can disturb them for a few minutes."
Ten minutes later, they had left the front part of the DMZ and moved to the rear of the American sector. The Humvee drove up to a heavy concentration of barbed-wire fences. There were three parallel ones. The outside fence had steel posts set in concrete, with barbed wire stretched at six-inch intervals up to eight feet. On top of that hung razor wire in circular coils. The next fence was ten feet tall, with concertina on both sides and razor wire stretched on the steel posts.
The last fence was chain link, six feet high and full of caution signs that said in three languages that the fence was highly charged with electricity.
Steel gates stopped them at the guard post. A lieutenant heading the guards insisted on seeing the colonel's ID and that of each of the men in the three vehicles. Then he opened the gate. It slid back on well-oiled rollers operated by electric motor.
"The gate here weighs a little over two tons,"' the colonel said. "It would take a tank to break through it."
Just inside, Major Donovan Kitts met them. He commanded the 91st Armored Battalion. Kitts was slight, five eight, and looked like a marathon runner. His keen blue eyes missed nothing. He saluted his colonel, said hello, then turned to Chambers.
"Mr. Vice President. It's an honor to have you visit our unit. Is there anything in particular you'd like to see?"
"Just your normal routine. I understand you do some training, maneuvers, preparations for defensive combat, that sort of thing."
"Yes, sir. I could move some tanks around and show you some of your tax dollars at work."
"Thank you, Major Kitts. I'd appreciate that."
They drove a mile away to where six tanks worked back and forth in a barren section of plowed-up dirt just behind the DMZ. The tanks wheeled and charged forward toward the line, then turned, set up a line of defense, pulled out, and each tank drove into a bunker so only the muzzle of the big cannon and the top of the turret showed.
Major Kitts was in the lead tank. When the maneuvering was over, the major climbed out of his tank and came back to where the Vice President and his group stood.
"Major, could I see your outfit's living quarters?" the Vice President asked. "I understand a certain number of you are on alert twenty-four hours a day, and some are sleeping and eating. Where do your men do this?"
Five minutes later they went into a concealed underground complex that looked like a military office, barracks, and kitchen, only it was under the Korean soil. It was a self contained unit that fed, housed, and supplied the tankers.
Vice President Chambers looked at the facility and smiled. "Major, how would you like to have twelve guests tonight? I want to stay this close to the DMZ and get a notion of what it feels like. We won't be any trouble to you, and we don't eat much. I'm sure the colonel and the general will have no objections."
Colonel Lauderdale built some frown lines on his forehead. "Sir, this is in an extreme danger zone, twice the target that the observation tower is. We usually allow no civilians to be in this area, let alone overnight. Your visit here is most unusual. I don't see how your being here would make that much difference." The Vice President held up his hand. "Colonel, we appreciate your concern. All but one of this group has been under enemy fire during wartime. You don't need to worry about our safety. We won't need any baggage. We can live in these clothes until we get back to your camp tomorrow morning. It's settled. We'll all stay here tonight." He turned to the other eleven civilians.
"Unless any of you want to chicken out on me and run for the camp."
There was some nervous laughter, but nobody held up a hand.
"Good, it's settled. I'd guess that some of this underground facility leads to the bunkers with weapons pointed toward the DMZ. I'd like to see those areas as well."
Major Kitts looked at his commanding officer, who gave the barest of nods, and the tanker led the way to the rest of the underground complex that held the fire-forward areas.
Vice President Chambers settled into position behind a .50-caliber machine gun and grinned. A belt of ammo hung off the gun with one round in the chamber ready to fire. He looked out at the DMZ.
"Damn, but this is tight. Weapons, tanks, and infantry all over the place. I don't see how the NKs could possibly get through the DMZ and even this far into South Korea."
Then the Vice President remembered the angry words of the NK general and the expression on his face as he stood to walk out. For a moment Chambers decided that he would put nothing past this number-two man in the North Korean Army. Absolutely nothing.
3
Major Yim Pak Lee frowned as he saw one of his tanks take a slow turn and get bumped by the tank behind.
He used his radio. "No, no, stupid ass in number six. Keep up your speed. You'll get pushed into the gully you keep driving like that. Now. Do it again, all fifteen of you. Back to the starting point, go."
He watched from the turret of his tank on a high piece of ground less than a mile behind the DMZ. It was his maneuver land, where he could put his sixteen tanks through their paces and keep the crews sharp.
He watched the tanks back half a mile, turn, and come into line. Three tanks formed a spearhead in front of five behind them in a line.
Beside that formation was a similar lineup of the other seven tanks. The machines were in top condition. Their crews were hardworking and just reaching the peak of their skills. Each of the sixteen units had a 105mm howitzer and a load of sixty rounds. They could pack a devastating punch.
Major Yim knew his mission. When the orders came down to attack, it would be at dawn, and his tanks would charge ahead through the DMZ, past the centerline, and smash and blow up all the defenders they could find.
His battalion had won the right to be directly across from the only sector of the DMZ manned by Americans. His men were ready. They would follow orders, and charge into the midst of the sleeping American tankers before they knew it was morning. An attacking force always had the advantage in any kind of battle.
Major Yim smiled. Yes, when the orders came, his sharp battalion would be ready, more than ready, anxious to show its ability to wipe out the sixteen American tanks before they knew there was a war going on.
The major watched the new run-through on the maneuver. Yes, better. The ability to move, take advantage of any cover, and then come out shooting was what his battalion had won honors for. He saw a military sedan drive into the edge of the tanks' maneuvering range. At once Major Yim ordered his own tank to turn and charge toward the sedan. The rig had stopped just inside the plowed-up ground where the treads punished the land. He brought the big tank to a stop a dozen feet away, lifted out of the turret, and dropped to the ground.
A full colonel stood by the side of the sedan smoking a cigar. Major Yim marched up and saluted smartly.
"Major Yim at your service, Colonel."
The colonel returned the salute, then pointed at the tanks.
"Sixteen still in operation, I see, Major. That's good. You have utilized your spare tank to good advantage. Spare parts is the call I hear from other commanders, but never from you. How do you manage that?"
"Skill and three top-flight mechanics, Colonel."