First battalion was using smoke to cover its crossing of the sunken lane and shake out into formation once more, but despite already losing a quarter of its strength there was no reason its attack should not succeed.
However, Third battalion was forming up a klick to the rear of the farm and Second battalion, which had borne the brunt of the losses against the British marines and from whom had come the initial two-company attack from the lane, were now attached to the Third battalion.
The vehicle commanders of the two tanks and four APCs that had survived his regiment’s first attack had been arrested and marched off into some trees nearby, their departure being witnessed by the battalion staff’s from Third Battalion and their own.
The regimental commander had remained at the farm to observe, and from here he gave his orders to the staffs by radio, for an attack to be launched with the farm and sunken lane being to the right of the start line. The attack was to bear straight ahead until it reached the point where the lane curved away to run down the valley, and then the force would swing half right and drive for the NATO positions that had defeated the first assault.
As he handed the radio handset back to a signaller he chanced to see on the hills behind them the Romanian regiment that had trailed them was deploying in readiness for an assault. No doubt the remainder of the division was also deploying and he suddenly realised that the divisional commander thought he would fail.
A flurry of shots sounded from the trees where the vehicle commanders had been taken, the sound causing ominous echoes that lingered in his ears, and for the first time he felt the cold finger of fear.
Under the circumstances the First Battalion’s commander did a good job of job of reorganisation on the hoof, but the formation was rather ragged and still trying to sort itself out when he gave the order to continue the advance. Under pressure himself to make progress he had pushed his subordinates to get across the obstacle and lost another two in the process, two precious plough tanks that ventured too far to the right in search of a safe crossing. Despite the suppressing fire being directed on their positions the French Foreign Legion paratroopers could not look such a pair of gift horse’s in the mouth, they engaged both vehicles and destroyed them.
The 4 Company men had watched 3 Company’s action and had been heartened by the result, but now as they watched the Czech’s emerge from the ragged smoke screen, driving straight at them, it caused a few men to swallow hard.
The Soviet artillery which had slackened during the artillery duel now picked up once more, but it was concentrated on the fields and slopes before them, attempting weaken the mine fields which had to be there somewhere. There was heavier fire falling behind and to the sides of the Czechs intended victims, and they knew it was to isolate them, to divide and conquer. The Milan crews picked their targets and awaited the order to open fire, and the men in the fighting holes checked their spare magazines and grenades for the umpteenth time.
Major Venables and his crew were finding the going less than straightforward in their journey along the slope to support 4 Company. Vehicular movement between the two forward companies had been carried out by using an existing track half way up the hill, following the contours through the trees. By accident or by design this track had suffered particularly badly in the Soviet’s preparatory bombardment. Fallen trees and shell craters had provided obstacles the tank could only seek to bypass, but having found their way around one obstacle and returned to the track they encountered further blockages within yards.
The radio transmission that warned of the renewed advance was not best received by the crew of a Challenger that had found itself in a cul-de-sac formed by fallen trunks.
“Arghfukit!”
Had the shelling not picked up then a crewman could have gone out on foot and found them a way through by now. The only area Mark Venables was sure had been spared this level of shelling was the reverse slope.
“Driver, we need to back up about thirty feet and then head straight uphill.” There was no immediate response on the intercom and he was about to call again when the voice of Trooper Abbot, the driver, sounded in his earpiece.
“Er, no offence boss, but what makes you think we can find a route that way?”
“I don’t know that we will, but I know we’ve tried every other direction except up.” Shrapnel struck the turret, and the sound made them all feel strangely more vulnerable rather than snug behind armour plate. Mark Venables was trying not to let the feeling of exasperation get the better of him because they needed to be in a firing position already, not stuck in this maze.
“Just get this thing moving Abbot, there’s a good chap.”
He used the vision blocks to assist the driver as he first backed up and then pivoted the big machine. Major Venables brought the barrel of the 120mm gun to full elevation to prevent its digging into the hillside, and once that was accomplished he turned one of the radios to 1 Troop’s net to inform them that the going was slow but they would assist just as soon as they could.
No matter how much money had gone into the research and development of the perfect seat, they hadn’t cracked the problem yet. That was the considered opinion of Ann-Marie Chan as she tried to regain some feeling in her posterior. Her operators were used to these long hours, which was just as well because although they had been on-station for over fourteen hours, their day wasn’t over yet.
On the ground the troops of both sides may be criticising their respective air forces for not being more visibly active on their behalf this day, but her screens gave a different story.
There was a lot of air activity behind the lines, with NATO interdicting strikes bound for the front or for autobahns carrying the US 4 Corps to the fight. She had four stacks of aircraft configured for air intercept that were employed in defending 4 Corps, and three wings of strike aircraft on the ground that she could not use because they were earmarked for close air support for 4 Corps when they eventually reached the front. It left her with an available, though somewhat ragtag force that had been attempting to thin out the Red armour before it got to Vormundberg. They were all desperately tired and in need of a rest that she was not empowered to allow.
The airborne operation had unquestionably dealt the enemy a severe blow, the Red Air Force was having to employ fields further from the fighting, and due to the losses in the tanker fleet most of the sorties coming from those bases had been unable to take off with full ordnance loads. She knew that would not continue, and indeed the Soviet’s had been moving aircraft, including tankers, from other areas all morning, and sending them to the available fields. The Red AWAC fleet was another matter though, they had reactivated old Il-76s, the first type to properly fulfil that role, but they were being kept too far from the front to be effective. Ann-Marie could just about detect the weak pulse of one that had to be back over Berlin way, so unless that changed then her and her controllers were the kings.
Lt Col Chan could see there were signs of stacks building by the Soviet’s, the stacking up of aircraft that experience told her had to be strike aircraft. A regiments worth of what she suspected were Sukhoi SU-25 variants had lifted off from Plzen-Line airbase and had tanked, the first time that had been seen to happen that day, before flying to Germany to RV with a trio of tankers and four flights of SU-27 Flankers. The second tanking had also been a first for strike aircraft that day, providing heavily laden aircraft with ample fuel reserves.