Both T-72s were hit several times and left stopped and burning, as were five of the BTRs, but the T-90 was hit only once by a hastily aimed shot that hit a track and brought it to a jerky halt without killing it. The surviving BTR-70 was completely overlooked, which gave its commander an insight into their predicament. The infantry section de-bussed, coming out fighting and taking cover in shell craters, of which there was no shortage.
For a few minutes there was an island of resistance within the battalion lines, formed by the BTR, its infantry section, and the crippled tank. Like a proud old bull surrounded by a pride of lions the Czech’s kept the British and Americans at bay for a time, but it couldn’t last.
Milan rounds fired from 9 Platoon positions, 3 Company’s in-depth platoon, took out the both the BTR and the tank whilst 51mm light mortars and L79 grenade launchers pummelled the Czech infantrymen with HE. Shell craters do not offer the same protection as a well dug trench and when 9 Platoon men came forward they found no resistance, just three wounded men and seven very dead ones.
Mark Venables Challenger crested the hill in time to see the second line of Czech vehicles make the same error as the first line.
Keeping infantry inside vehicles only works if your enemy very obligingly present themselves to be shot at from the vehicles ports.
The 23rd MRRs commander watched his second line enter the NATO positions and then smoke obscured his view. On the radio he heard the same shouts of alarm as had come from his leading element, the hammer of automatic weapons drowning out the words and then they too went off the air.
They were under the guns of the NATO tanks now, the Chieftains and Challengers on the hillside above them no longer had any living targets to engage but his regiment now consisted of ten tanks, nineteen BTRs and a handful of AAA vehicles, and that included his own command group vehicles. Not enough to punch their way through the NATO troops holding the high ground between themselves and the autobahns but enough to perhaps establish a foothold, a crack in the NATO line that others could widen.
The NATO troops in the forward trenches were now firing directly at the approaching vehicles, the 94mm LAWs and Milan’s killing a T-80 and a further three BTRs.
Taking up his radio handset again he ordered his infantry to debus at 100m from the trenches and fight through the first positions on foot, the tanks and BTRs would provide the gunfire support.
His own tank was travelling behind a T-90 and he ordered them to speed up and close the gap with the last of his regiment, and the T-90 duly accelerated but then came to a crashing halt amid a welter of smoke and flame. The commander’s driver swerved to avoid it, and they themselves were hit on top of the engine deck by a TOW missile fired from a Lynx helicopter. The commander was thrown sideways, the force of the impact smashing his face into the RT set and he saw stars for a moment. His gunner brought him back to reality, shaking his shoulders and shouting that they had to get out. His face felt strange and he caught sight of his reflection in the glass covering the radios dials. His nose had a crooked look about it and the lower half of his face was scarlet and shiny with blood. He reached up and threw open the hatch, pulling himself half way out when they were hit again, this time on the turret. He screamed with the incredible pain as he was engulfed in a column of flame that propelled him out of the stricken tank and flinging him twelve feet from it, right in the path of his command groups fast moving ZSU-23-4.
Pat Reed watched the enemy vehicles brake to a halt and disgorge infantry, catching the defenders on the hop as they had again taken refuge in the shelter bays in the expectation of the next line of enemy following the same tactics as the previous ones. The Czech’s grenaded three of the trenches, all which were sited to dominate an area of dead ground before the guardsmen and paratroopers realised their error. The Czech’s thereby had a toehold to work from. By chance rather than by design the Czechs had their first success in 8 Platoons territory, which slightly overlooked the neighbouring positions in 7 Platoon.
Ownership of the dead ground allowed the Czechs to corral their remaining vehicles in relative safety, tucked out of sight away from 3 Company’s anti-tank assets.
The platoon commander of 8 Platoon led a hastily put together counter attack to regain the three trenches, less than five minutes later, and shot through both legs, his platoon sergeant dragged him back to his trench, unceremoniously towing him over the muddy ground by the yoke of his webbing as high velocity rounds cracked past them.
From his viewing point Pat watched the action, his stomach knotting at the sight of the bodies left in the open, which highlighted the attacks failure.
3 Company’s commander immediately ordered another counter attack, this time by 9 Platoon with 8 and 7 providing the fire support, but before it could get started the Czechs expanded on their success by attacking and taking a further four of the 8 Platoon fighting positions.
When the 3 Company counter attack did go in it got off to a bad start because the Czechs were now using the captured positions to fire down onto 7 Platoon, so in effect 9 Platoon had only a sections worth of fire support coming from what was left of 8 Platoon.
The Czechs brought forward two of their remaining tanks and a trio of BTRs firing at ranges of less than a hundred and fifty metres at the skirmishing 9 Platoon. The attack was defeated; worse, it had inflicted losses upon 3 Company that brought its ability to hold its remaining territory into serious doubt.
Sergeant Higgins crawled forward and tapped his commanding officer on the shoulder, pointing off to the left and right where the first of the Romanian regiments were now only 600m from the forward NATO positions on Vormundberg’s lower slopes and just encountering the largely intact minefields before the Light Infantry and the Highlanders positions. The exhaust trails of anti-tank missiles crisscrossed the battlefield and balls of flame marked their terminus. The Soviet tanks fired on the move and Pat could see the glaring differences between the T-80 and T-90 tanks as opposed to the T-72 when they fired. The self-stabilising guns of the newer tanks pointing unwaveringly at targets despite the rollercoaster drive, and the more numerous, elderly T-72s who’s fire had to be for effect only, anything to give the plough tanks a better chance at clearing paths through the minefields.
Lowering his binoculars he edged himself forward out of the shell crater and downhill a few yards in order to get a better look at the ground between 9 Platoon and the piece of hillside he was laying on. It was clear to him that any further attempt to retake the captured positions would be to reinforce defeat, the remnants of 8 Platoon had to pull back and merge with 9 Platoon, and with that done they must provide covering fire that 7 Platoon could withdraw under to then establish a fresh position just in front of 3 Company’s CP. He did not have to offer advice though; the company commander gave Major Popham a sitrep before requesting artillery pound on the lost positions as additional cover for 7 and 8 Platoon’s withdrawal. It took less than a minute for Zero to call up Three Nine with the result of his request; time of arrival of the first round would be eighteen seconds from the time of the present transmission.
When Pats ears picked up the drone of approaching shells he raised his binoculars, resting on his elbows and stared at the intended target area, but the drone changed to the nerve-jarring shriek that informed those that heard it that they were the target. The ground leapt beneath him, pummelling the air from his lungs again and again and he was aware that he was screaming out loud with fear. One shell, landing closer than the rest, lifted him and deposited in a heap further down the hillside. The world suddenly became silent and even the debris from the still falling shells was landing noiselessly all around him.