Kursov nodded and rushed away to finish packing the equipment. He couldn’t believe they were sending him back home. It might mean seeing more of Freda.
It didn’t take long before all the equipment was crated up and placed in a container. The people grabbed their packs and sprinted out to waiting buses. The trip was going to take a few hours, but the army wanted them there as soon as possible. They had no idea what had happened or why the rush, but they were on their way to war.
The train was being filled rapidly. A crane was placing the containers onto their special cars and there was a long line of passenger cars going along as well. Periodically, there was a car with an antiaircraft gun or portable missile system onboard. You could tell by all the bustle that people were in a hurry.
Colonel Sanders walked up to Ricks, who was supervising the onload. “Ricks, there’s been a change of plan. Now we’re headed to the Czech Republic. You can let the guys know when we get underway, but no one gets off the train between here and some place called Javornik. They’re setting us up in some school just two and a half miles from the border. We have to be there and set up by 0300 tomorrow morning. Get your people and equipment on the train ASAP and hang on. This thing is going to fly over there. We have over 250 miles to go and it’s nonstop. Any questions?” Sanders asked.
Ricks shook his head. “We’ll have everything onboard in about fifteen minutes. Looks like you and I are going to the front of the front this time,” he said.
Sanders smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As promised, the men and equipment were loaded aboard with time to spare. There was an additional delay when parts of a German infantry unit were loaded aboard as well. After an additional thirty minutes, the train began picking up speed along the tracks. True to his word, the thing was going much faster than Ricks had expected.
Surprisingly, the train was quiet. Most of the men and women were simply sitting in their seats and wondering what was going to happen to them. After letting them know there had been a change in destination, Ricks began making his way to his seat in the front of the coach. He stopped for a moment beside Private Kursov. There was something about this young man. He could be intense when doing his job, but eager to help out and very capable in everything Ricks had thrown at him so far. He grinned down at the man. “Sorry about the change. Looks like we won’t be going to your home this time out,” he said quietly.
Petyr shrugged his shoulders. “My sergeant told me a long time ago to never make plans. I’ll get home when this is over,” he said.
Ricks sat down in the empty seat beside him. “Yea, but it would have been nice to see the family and that girl of yours. I remember my first time out. There were times I had wished I could just run away and get back to my family. You live in Krakow long?”
“All my life. My father and mother are both Russian, but I’m from Poland. We’ve lived in the same place this whole time,” he said with a smile. Thinking of home felt good.
Ricks chuckled. “Most Americans move around a lot. It’s not surprising to have someone who has lived two or three places by your age.”
“Did you do that?”
Ricks shook his head. “No, I was a farm boy. We lived on the farm all my life. But some of my friends in school moved around. Many of them were military brats.”
Petyr got a questioning look. “Brats?”
Ricks laughed. “It’s a term a lot of military use for children of military families. It’s not meant as something bad, just a pet name,” he said.
“I still have trouble with some English. I understand,” said Petyr. “Do you have any brats?”
Ricks chuckled again. “Yep. I have two little twin brats with one more on the way. I met my wife during the Korean War and things just happen that way,” he grinned.
“I hope to marry my girl when I get back. Then maybe we can have some brats of our own,” Petyr said. He changed his tone. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“Some of the guys told me you were one of the highest decorated men in the American Army. They also told me you don’t have any legs. Is this so?” Petyr asked.
Ricks could tell by his look that he was a little afraid of the response. He reached down and pulled up his pants leg revealing the titanium prosthetic coming out of his boot. “I lost both of them toward the end of the war. As you can see, it didn’t stop me from doing my job.”
Petyr’s eyes widened. He had no idea. A look of admiration spread across his face. “I always thought something like that would send a person home,” he said.
“Most of the time it does,” said Ricks. “In my case, they made an exception. Of course that doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass if you screw up,” he said with a grin. He was rewarded with a knowing smile.
“I value my life, Master Sergeant,” Petyr said.
“Good. And as far as the other goes, don’t worry about my decorations. Just do your job and you will be getting some of your own. It never works to think about what you have to do to get them. Just do your job as best you can and they will come,” Ricks said.
Petyr nodded as Ricks began to get up. Ricks turned back to him. “I’ll be counting on you Petyr,” he said softly.
Petyr’s face brightened. He called him by his first name. He looked up. “I won’t let you down,” he said.
Ricks winked and began making his way to the front of the car.
One of Petyr’s friends turned around in his seat. “One of the people looked him up on the internet. He was awarded the American Medal of Honor. It’s the highest award a guy can get!” he said.
The news didn’t surprise Petyr. Being around Ricks made him feel secure. There was something about him that not only got your attention, but commanded respect. He sat back and thought for a moment and decided that he would follow Master Sergeant Ricks wherever he wanted to go.
The auditorium was surrounded by security. Fighter aircraft were flying overhead and tanks had perimeters set up several hundred yards from the building. The only way to get in was if you had a special card and had a name on the list. Yet, there were only about twenty five men and women in the auditorium to hear the plans for the operation. The front row was the most telling. Seated were the Chancellor of Germany, Presidents of France and Italy, Prime Ministers of Belgium, Spain, Luxemburg, Poland and finally the United Kingdom. Seated with his Prime Minister was the King of England. Behind them were the military leaders of these countries and a few others.
Hammond had already greeted everyone, and now it was time to begin. He went to the podium at the head of the auditorium and nodded to one of his staff members. Images began coming up on the screens behind him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to begin. My name is Roger Hammond and I have been tasked with leading the Allied effort to bring victory against the Russian forces. It has been two months since this war began and up until this time, the Allied nations have held back on their front line units as we prepare to strike back at the Russians with a major effort. This effort is called Operation Arctic Wind. I will now ask my military commanders to come up and explain their part in Arctic Wind so that hopefully you will get a full picture of how massive this operation is. We will begin in the European sector with General Dortmund,” he said.
General Dortmund rose and began his portion, followed by General Ames for the air forces. Sir Richard Thomas briefed on the Naval Forces, then handed the podium to Admiral Hustvedt.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my part of this is an amphibious assault in the Black Sea,” he said. There were gasps in the room as he continued. “We will land the First Marine Division, Second Marine Division, and the Fourth Marine Division at a point near Poti in Georgia. The objective is to cut through Georgia to the Caspian Sea, a distance of four hundred miles, then turn north. The fleet units will remain in the Black Sea, to destroy or incapacitate their Black Sea Fleet and prevent further operations along the coasts. To do this we will have the American carriers….” The brief went on a few minutes until he turned it over to the commander of the ground forces in the Black Sea.