Kevin stopped watching the barrage and wriggled back into his foxhole to consider his next move. Echo Company and the units covering its flanks had fought steadily all day, gradually giving ground in the face of repeated North Korean attacks. Each time the pattern had been the same. Bloody the NK columns from concealed positions. Force them to waste time deploying for a more deliberate attack and then beat a quick retreat down the road to the next set of defensive positions.
It had worked. They’d bought time for the other units fleeing across the Haengju Bridge. But the price had been high. Sergeant Caldwell, his Weapons Platoon leader, was dead. Bryce, the 1st Platoon leader, had been medevacked two hours ago, bleeding from a dozen shrapnel wounds. All told, nearly thirty of his men were out of action — dead or seriously wounded.
Kevin rubbed a weary hand across his face, feeling the bristles of his beard mixed in with caked-on mud. How much longer could he ask his troops to go on taking losses like that? They were being ground up by this constant fighting. How much longer would they have to hold? This hill was the last barrier between the North Koreans and the Han.
He squinted west into the setting sun. Not more than an hour of daylight left. He turned to look down the slope behind him. There were still trucks crowding the bridge, but the traffic seemed somewhat lighter.
“Sir. It’s Major Donaldson.” Montoya nudged him gently.
Kevin took the handset and clicked the transmit button. “India One Two, this is Echo Five Six, over.”
Donaldson sounded tired, too. “Stand by for withdrawal. Say again, stand by for withdrawal.”
Kevin shook his head, not quite understanding. He felt as if his head had been wrapped in cotton. What was that? Withdraw? How? When? He clicked the transmit button again. “One Two, this is Five Six. Request instructions.”
“Okay, Kev.” Donaldson spaced his words out carefully. “Foxtrot and Bravo are pulling out now. They’re clear of NK contact. What’s your situation? Over.”
Kevin sat up higher in the foxhole. The fire mission he’d called down had ended. There were bodies thrown all around the road, some motionless, others writhing in agony. The scattered survivors of the NK infantry company he’d spotted were in full retreat — scampering back up the road as fast as their legs would carry them.
He lifted his binoculars, looking farther up the highway toward the low, rolling hills he and his men had left behind an hour before. He could see shapes moving among the trees. Tanks and other armored vehicles forming up for another attack.
He lowered the binoculars, thinking hard. “Two, this is Six. Estimate three zero minutes before next NK push, over.”
“Understood, Kev. Start your people across in five minutes, but leave a force to cover the bridge approaches until everybody’s clear. Got it?”
Kevin acknowledged and signed off. He handed the radio back to Montoya and looked around for Rhee. The shorter man’s steadiness and absolute reliability made him the perfect choice for the task Kevin had in mind. The South Korean lieutenant had shown himself to be a damned fine combat leader — one who could be counted on to inspire his men and use them well in the heat of battle. Just as important, he’d proved that he had brains as well as guts. During the day’s fighting, the dapper South Korean had earned his assigned slot as Kevin’s right-hand man a hundred times over.
Rhee was crouched beside one of the three remaining Dragon launchers. He saw Kevin’s wave and scuttled over.
Kevin filled him in on the situation and gave him his orders, trying to use the formal tone he knew the South Korean liked. “Lieutenant Rhee, I want you to lead the boys across. Leave me one Dragon team, one MG team, and a rifle squad. We’ll follow after you’re on the span. Clear?”
The South Korean nodded.
“Okay, then. Get moving.” Rhee rose to a crouch, but Kevin stopped him with a hand. “But keep everybody out of sight as long as you can. I don’t want the NKs to know we’re going until we’re long gone.”
Rhee nodded again and moved off to get the company organized and loaded onto its trucks.
The exhausted men of Echo Company needed no urging to leave their foxholes behind and crowd onto the waiting vehicles. One by one the trucks pulled out onto the road and roared off down toward the bridge and safety.
Kevin spread his remaining eleven men out in a thin skirmish line along the crest of the hill. Montoya crouched beside him in the foxhole that served as his CP, turning every five seconds or so to see how far the company had gotten. Kevin kept his eyes on the woods to the north.
He didn’t have any illusions left. Another North Korean tank attack would sweep through this last squad as if it weren’t even there. The most they could do would be to give a little warning to the men waiting to blow the bridge.
Minutes passed. The signs of movement in the woods were increasing. The NKs could come anytime now. He glanced at his watch. Come on, Rhee!
“Echo Five Six, this is Five Four.” It was Rhee.
Kevin grabbed the handset. “Go ahead, Four.”
“We’re on the bridge.”
Kevin felt relief wash over him. He stood up and cupped his hands. “Second Squad! Let’s get the fuck out of here. Let’s go, people!”
He watched the woods while his troops grabbed their weapons and jogged downhill toward the last truck. The driver already had its engine running. Men swarmed over the tailgate, turning once they were on board to help others up.
Oh, God. Tanks were emerging from the tree line, forming up for the attack. Ten, eleven, twelve… Kevin counted them rapidly. There were at least two North Korean tank companies moving toward him.
“Lieutenant!” It was Montoya yelling at him from the truck. “C’mon, sir. We gotta get out of here!”
No shit. Kevin spun away from the oncoming North Korean tanks and sprinted hard for the waiting truck. KARRUMP. KARRUMP. Dirt kicked high behind him. NK mortars were zeroing in on the hill. He ran faster, arms pumping out from his sides.
KARRUMP. Rock fragments and splinters whined overhead, thrown by an explosion to his right. Kevin skidded to a stop, panting, at the back of the truck. Hands reached down to pull him aboard as the driver put it in gear and raced away toward the bridge. Behind them the hill they’d been defending disappeared in a sea of blindingly bright flashes as the NK heavy artillery opened up.
WHAMMM! The truck careened around a shell crater and roared onto the empty bridge. Kevin sat up amid his men as they swayed from side to side under the low canvas roof. Gray-white smoke billowed high in the air above the hill. The North Koreans were laying a smoke screen to cover their attack. He smiled crookedly. They were wasting a lot of ammunition on people who weren’t there anymore.
The truck crossed over to the south side of the Han and slowed, turning off onto an access road running along the riverbank. The driver slammed on his brakes, fighting a skid, as he turned a corner and came face-to-face with a row of concertina wire laid across the road.
“Everybody out! Out! Take cover over there!” Grim-faced combat engineers waved Kevin and his men out of the truck. They jumped down over the tailgate, some falling to their knees in the mud, and staggered over behind a snowbank.
“Blow it!” Kevin looked up at the voice and saw an engineer wearing colonel’s insignia staring intently at the bridge. He followed the man’s gaze.
WHUMMP. WHUMMP. WHUMMP. WHUMMP. Kevin covered his ears as the series of explosions grew louder and closer together, rippling across the bridge from north to south. Whole sections of the roadway buckled and then flew upward, spinning end over end before splashing into the river below. Others simply sagged and then fell over, crashing into the water in a spray of white foam and ice.