General Brooks went back to the map laid out before him. “I think it’s a mistake to over-think this, John. We’re going to defend each entry point, but the Chinese come at things head on. Look how they assaulted us over and over along the Mississippi. They’ll be coming from the west and that’s where we’ll set up the stiffest resistance.”
Even though John disagreed, there wasn’t any sense starting an argument. The truth was, none of them knew what the Chinese would do. One man’s guess was as good as the next.
Colonel Higgs then moved in, unfurling a map of Oneida he’d found in the town records. “The bulk of what we still have left to do will involve prepping the town for attack. Let me assure you, gentlemen, that urban warfare’s a messy business and I intend to make any assault on Oneida as painful as possible. There are generally two main approaches to city defense and both carry their own risks and rewards. One option is to allow the enemy to enter the city, drawing them into a trap. While an ambush-style tactic might bog the Chinese forces down, it’ll allow their dismounted infantry to gain a foothold within the outlying buildings, which could pose a problem. The other option is to defend along the perimeter of the town, reinforcing key structures and bringing the armor forward to engage targets as they come into view. By the time they breach the outer layers of defense, it won’t be a surprise that we’re here and ready for a fight.”
“How many of the men under you have previous combat experience?” General Brooks asked John.
“Not many, I’m afraid to say.”
Higgs made a clicking noise in his throat. “Then you’ll have your work cut out for you. When the Chinese do break through, we’re gonna need to channel them down Alberta Street. This’ll give us the best overlapping fields of fire.” Higgs stopped to take a drink of water. “Channelling the enemy along this corridor will mean filling the other approaches with debris and rubble to make them impassable.”
“We can move some wrecked cars in place for that,” Moss told them.
Higgs turned to John. “You’ll need to instruct your men firing from inside buildings to cut loopholes in the wall. They should avoid placing the muzzle too close to the opening or it could give them away. Standing or kneeling a few feet back is more than enough. Likewise, concealed heavy weapons emplacements should use a wet blanket or cloth to prevent dust from kicking up when the weapon is fired. And let your people know it’s always better to fire around a wall if they can, rather than over it.”
“Will do,” John confirmed, trying to keep track of everything the colonel was telling him. “Any suggestions on reinforcing the individual structures?”
“First of all, if it comes to urban combat, they shouldn’t be using doorways. Holes blown through the walls of adjacent buildings will allow our boys to reposition without exposing themselves to enemy fire. Likewise, stairways leading to second stories should be filled with furniture and covered with razor wire. Getting up and down will be accomplished by using ladders placed by holes cut in the floor. If the enemy enters the building, those ladders can be pulled up at a moment’s notice. The glass in the windows of outlying buildings should also be removed to prevent shards spraying in soldiers’ faces if they come under fire. But make sure to knock the glass in where possible to prevent giving the position away.”
They spent the next hour refining the strategies and tactics they would use to defend the town against attack. Much of it John already knew from the time he’d spent serving in the army, but as Higgs pointed out, many of the townsfolk under him would need to be briefed and prepped. During World War II, the Germans, desperate to defend Berlin against the Russians, had called up young boys and old men with little or no military training. In several instances the consequences had been disastrous. Instead of helping to bolster the city’s defenses, many of them had simply gotten in the way, blocking friendly fire, preventing the more experienced soldiers from doing their duty. With Moss’ help, John would make sure the people of Oneida would do everything in their power to keep the town from slipping into enemy hands.
Chapter 39
Not long after, John watched as the tanks and Bradleys were systematically hidden from view. Some took shelter in hollowed-out buildings set up as concealed firing positions. Others were moved to areas thick with trees and covered with camo netting. Six of the M198 155mm Howitzers were being towed up Owens Ridge when John caught the first sounds of an approaching plane.
Captain Bishop was nearby overseeing the entrenchment of an Abrams tank when his ears perked up.
“It’s a prop plane,” John said. “Everyone to your positions, quick.”
Soldiers and civilians scrambled for cover. Others ran to the roofs of buildings to man Stinger missile launchers.
Was this the beginning of an attack or nothing more than a scouting mission? A second later, John spotted the plane. From here it looked like a Chinese Y-8 military transport plane, essentially a copy of a Russian An-12. The closest American counterpart was probably a C-130.
The chances that this was a bombing run or scouting mission began to lessen by the second.
John moved out of the street and toward an overhang where Capt. Bishop and some of his men were peering out at the aircraft above them.
“Any thoughts?” John asked.
In response, Bishop poked his finger into the air. “Take a look.”
A bundle fell from the rear hatch and John couldn’t help thinking it looked like a giant bird had just let one go. Soon the bundle broke apart into hundreds, maybe thousands of pieces, each fluttering through the air. The size grew larger and larger before John realized what was happening.
“They’re dropping leaflets,” he shouted.
The air defense crew stood down right away, since they’d been briefed that unless they were under imminent threat, it was important not to let the enemy know their capabilities until the last minute.
With thousands of leaflets seesawing through the air, John couldn’t help feel like he was watching some sort of bizarre ticker-tape parade. Before long, they were coming down all around them, landing on the pavement and the roofs of buildings. John bent down and picked one up.
Predictably, the English on the leaflet was laughable, but the core of the message was clear enough. The Chinese claimed to be on a humanitarian mission, promising safety, food and medical attention to those who didn’t resist.
“How comforting,” Captain Bishop exclaimed sarcastically, shaking out a propaganda note that had landed on his head. “I think I’ll turn myself over to the first Chinese grunt I see.”
His men burst into laughter as Bishop spat in his hand and used it to pat down a patch of errant blond hair.
Studying the paper in his hands, John knew he’d just found something for Emma to do.
Not surprisingly, when John arrived at the mayor’s office, which doubled as the Mack family home and now the tactical headquarters, he found a flurry of activity. Down the hall was Emma’s room and when he knocked and let himself in, she wasn’t there. About to leave, he glanced out her window and spotted a familiar-looking figure sitting under the maple tree. He made his way outside and found his daughter studying one of the Chinese propaganda leaflets. She seemed positively transfixed by it.
“I didn’t expect to find you here,” he said as he drew closer.
She looked up, startled. “I looked out my window and thought it was snowing.”
“It was, I suppose. Little bits of paper scrawled with terrible English.”