Shoveling dirt under the tracks would do no good. The tracks would simply pile it up onto the mounds they had already thrown up. It was too late to back out. Ortelli had hit the tree at a dead run and driven 66 up onto it. Something substantial had to be shoved under the right track so that it could rise up and let the hull clear the stump. But to do that would have required all of them to haul tree trunks and other rubble over to 66. The artillery would surely get some of them even if they found something they could haul before Ivan happened along.
With a sigh, Bannon did his best to remember what he had been taught at Fort Knox during the Basic Course in the vehicle recovery class. “Why in the hell didn’t I pay attention to what was going on in that class instead of kicking dirt clods and bullshitting at the rear of the group,” he muttered to himself. That thought, and the instructor’s admonishment that someday what he was telling them could one day save their lives came back to him as if the man was standing there behind him. Well, it seemed as if today was that day.
There was something they could do, but at the moment, Bannon wasn’t sure if he remembered it all. “What the hell, maybe it’ll come back as we go along.”
With that thought in mind, he climbed back up on the tank, staying as low and as near to the turret as possible. “Sergeant Folk, get out here and give me a hand.”
As Folk was climbing out, Bannon pulled a hammer from a sponson box and threw it to the ground on the right side of the tank. He then ordered Folk help him take the tow cables off the side of the turret where they were stowed. The two men crouched down as they worked to free one tow cable, throw it to the ground near the hammer, then free the other cable and throw it down on the other side. They then leaped off the right side and took cover.
While they lay down on the ground next to the track, Bannon explained what they were going to do. The plan was to hook the tow cables together. They would then wrap the cables around the two tracks at the front of the tank so that the tow cables stretched from one track to the other. When Ortelli put 66 in forward gear, the tracks would move the cables back along the ground. In the process, the cables would catch on the stump. Hopefully, as the tracks continued to try to pull the cables back, they would stay caught on the stump and pull 66 forward and off the stump and tree.
After listening to his commander’s plan, Folk nodded. “What the hell, it’s worth a shot. Let’s go.”
With that, Bannon took the hammer and used it to get the tow hooks off the front and back of 66 while Folk dragged the two cables to the front, crawling on his hands and knees and staying as close to the tank as he could. They used one of the tow hooks to connect the cables together. Then they wrapped one end of the cables around the track on the left side and used a second tow hook to connect the loop formed around the track, doing the same on the right side. Bannon put the fourth hook and hammer to the side in case a hook broke and a second try was needed. When they were ready, he told Folk to get back in 66 and have Ortelli crank up the tank and begin to slowly move forward.
Remaining outside and a safe distance from the tank, Bannon signaled to Folk, who had Ortelli put the tank in low gear and slowly apply power. As he had hoped, the cables were dragged under and caught on the stump. When he felt them snag the tree stump, Ortelli slowly applied more power, taking the slack in the cables out until they became taut. For a moment the tracks stopped and the engine began to strain. After praying the hooks would stand the strain and not snap, Bannon signaled Folk, who ordered Ortelli to continue.
Ever so slowly, Ortelli applied more power. Grudgingly, 66 began to inch forward, moaning and screeching as the hull scraped across the stump. The cables held as 66 continued to move and rise up over the stump. Once the tank’s center of gravity was past the stump, the front of 66 flopped down with a thud, allowing the tracks to bit into the ground, gain traction, and move the tank forward on its own.
When he was satisfied they were home free, Bannon signaled to Folk to have Ortelli stop. He then crawled to the rear, disconnected the cables from around the tracks, and climbed back on without bothering to recover the hooks or cables. With luck, someone could come back and get them later. At the moment, Bannon had far more important things to do, including getting out from under the Soviet artillery.
It was only as he was climbing back into the commander’s cupola that Bannon noticed 66 had lost its antennas. Both had been sheared off at the base. That, he realized, explained why the other four tanks had not stopped when he had called them. The last order the Team had heard from him was to keep moving. Apparently they had thought he wanted them to keep going all the way to Hill 214. When they couldn’t contact him, Uleski simply took command of what was left of the company and carried on with the last order he had received, leaving Bannon to wonder how much that misunderstanding had cost the Team as 66 left Objective LOG and made for Hill 214. Clausewitz called it the friction of war. Some called it Murphy’s law. Bannon found the thought of losing what was left of the Team to a simple misunderstanding was devastating. Sixteen men and four tanks lost all because of a damned antenna was broken.
Once in the open and out from under the Soviet artillery, Bannon had Ortelli move as fast as they could go. He had to find out if there were any tanks in the Team still on Hill 214. If there were, he would be able to contact battalion and find out what everyone else was doing and what the colonel wanted the Team to do. Not that there was much left to do anything with. If battalion couldn’t be contacted, then the ball was back in his court. He had to decide what to do with what was left of the Team.
Bannon was fast becoming tired of making these kind of decisions. They were too expensive in terms of men and equipment. Just what would go first, he found himself wondering, the Team or his nerve.
This unwelcomed thought was interrupted by the sight of three Soviet T-62 tanks off to his right. All were moving north and on an intersecting course with 66, causing Bannon to guess they had been headed to hit the tanks on Hill 214 in the rear before they had spotted 66. Grabbing the TC’s override, he jerked it over as far as he could, swinging the turret toward this new threat.
“GUNNER, SABOT, 3 TANKS!”
Kelp dropped down and yelled, “HEAT LOADED, UP!”
The last round Kelp had put in the chamber had been a HEAT round. Not as good as a SABOT round when fighting a tank, but it would have to do. There was no time to switch ammunition.
“IDENTIFIED!” Folk yelled, letting Bannon know he was ready to take over.
Bannon let the override go at the same instant the lead T-62 began to traverse its turret toward 66.
“FIRE HEAT, LOAD SABOT!” At least the next round would be right.
“ON THE WAAAY!” With that, Folk fired.
As if it was all one action, the main gun recoiled, causing the tank to shudder and buck. The sound of the gun firing was replaced by a high-pitched scream of agony over the intercom and the hiss of the halon gas fire extinguishers discharging. The turret was instantaneously filled with the halon gas as 66 lurched to the right and staggered to a stop. It had been hit.
“What happened? Why are we stopping?” Kelp yelled in panic. He was preparing to go out through the loader’s hatch when Bannon felt Folk grab at his leg to get by him and out. Over the intercom, Ortelli was screaming.