Only when he determined they’d inflicted all the damage on the Russians they were going to did Polgar give the order to ceasefire. As quickly as it had started, the firing stopped and quiet returned. The report he passed back to Bannon was matter-of-fact, accurate, and succinct. In his opinion, the Russians that had hit his position had been a platoon sized patrol looking to find out where the Team’s positions were. That discovery had been costly for the Russians. But they could afford the price.
While the Team awaited the next Soviet move, Polgar shifted his men back several meters to a new line of positions. If the Soviets decided to hit the Team in all directions, the survivors would surely lead the next group back to the point of the ambush. No doubt they would be in attack formation and ready to launch a full blooded assault. By dropping back, the next Soviet attack would hit an empty sack. If the Soviets didn’t catch on to this right off and instead, began to mill about checking out the abandoned positions, some of which were booby trapped, Polgar just might catch them off guard again. With so few men, he needed every advantage he could get.
About forty-five minutes after the firefight in the woods, two of the tanks in the village of Arnsdorf cranked up and began to move to where the trail entered the wooded lot. The slowness of their progress gave Bannon the impression the Russians were trying to hide this move. Since any movement by a tank is very difficult to hide, he wondered if they were a decoy, sent out to draw the Team’s fire and, in doing so, betray the position of his tanks. Since they could be on their way to support another attack on Polgar’s position, Bannon informed Polgar he needed to be ready for tanks. Smugly, Polgar simply replied, “Send ’em. We’re ready.”
As the pair of Soviet tanks continued to creep along the road across the Team’s front, the OP in front of the Team Yankee’s tanks reported it could hear the sound of many engines cranking up and vehicles moving about just inside that part of Arnsdorf that faced Hill 214. When Bannon radioed to Polgar that he thought both the tanks and infantry positions would be hit at the same time, Uleski also reported movement to his front. The Russians were putting on a full court press. The moment of truth was at hand. After ordering the OP in front of the tanks to pull back, Bannon instructed Garger in Alpha 31 to move up as soon as he heard 55 crank up. As he was waiting for his loader to return from the OP, Bannon wondered if the next move the Russians made would be check, or checkmate.
The barrage that hit Alpha 55 and 31 were not preceded by the whine of artillery Bannon was becoming painfully accustomed to. Incoming mortar rounds simply begin to explode. Instinctively, Bannon dropped all the way down into the tank and masked. Specialist 4 Newman, 55’s loader, was already masked and looking over at Bannon. “Those don’t sound like the shells we were hit with the other day,” he stated in a matter-of-fact manner as if he was discussing sports or the weather. “There’s no whine before they impact.”
“Mortars. They must be firing mortars,” Bannon informed him as he was fumbling with his mask. “Probably 120mm mortars from the battalion’s mortar battery. They can’t do much to us.” At least, Bannon hoped, they couldn’t.
Once masked and hooked into the intercom, Bannon had the driver crank up the tank and move up to its fighting position. As they were doing so, he popped his head up and surveyed the scene. The mortar rounds were falling just to the rear of the tanks. The volume of fire was impressive, but doing little more than making noise and tearing up more trees. A check with Polgar and Uleski revealed that 55 and 31 were the only ones being shelled, causing Bannon to guess the Soviet commander was attempting to draw their attention to the sector facing Arnsdorf.
Once in position, 55 and 31’s gunners watched as a line of fifty or more Russian soldiers emerged from the village, deployed into line, and begin to advance toward the hill on foot. They were followed by four BTR-60s and two tanks. Behind them came another line of troops followed by their BTRs. The Russians were coming in force this time.
Bannon ordered 31 to engage the T-72 on the left on order. 55 would take out the one on the right. As they would be hit the T-72 with head-on frontal shots. Bannon wondered if the 105mm rounds of the M-l would penetrate the front slope those tanks. He therefore instructed Garger to continue to engage until it burned. There was no time for second-guessing. The last thing he wanted was to have some Russian do to them what he had done to the trio of T-62s he’d met earlier in the day.
Once the T-72s were destroyed, Garger was instructed to concentrate on suppressing the infantry while 55 took out the BTRs. Not that a BTR was particularly dangerous to a tank. With only a 14.5mm gun in its turret, the most the BTRs could do to an M-1 was tear up the crew’s gear and punch holes in its front fenders. But the destruction of the tanks, the methodical destruction of their BTRs, and a steady stream of lead pinning them to the ground in the darkness, compounded by the confusion that often is part and parcel of a night attack, would have a devastating psychological impact on the individual Russian soldier. Bannon hoped that it would discourage them from rushing forward to become a Hero of the Soviet Union.
As the tanks were preparing to meet the attack coming from Arnsdorf, Polgar came up on the net and reported that he could hear tanks coming down the trail toward his positions. No sooner had Bannon given him a “ROGER, OUT,” than Uleski, reported there were about one hundred dismounted infantry advancing toward him in a column formation, confirming Bannon’s fear the Russians were going all out this time. It seemed they wanted to hold the Team’s attention in the front, pin the infantry their recon element had stumbled upon in the woods with a secondary attack, and sneak up behind. Team Yankee was in check.
The infantry were the first to engage. The Russian lead tank, slowly trundling along the wooded trail, hit one of the antitank mines Polgar’s people had put out. This was followed by a wild volley of small-arms fire from the accompanying Soviet infantry who took to firing wildly in whatever direction they’d been facing when the tank had hit the mine. To a man, they simply dropped down wherever and continued to fire. Polgar, on the other hand, managed to keep his men in check and quiet. He wanted to suck the Russians in before they opened fire.
When it became apparent that the lead tank was crippled, unable to move forward, and blocking the advance of the second tank, the Russian leading the infantry shouted out a series of commands that quelled their panicked shooting and got them back up on their feet. Once he had his men sorted out, he led them forward.
This time, as the Russians advanced in a line perpendicular to and straddling the trail, they fired from the hip and yelled in an effort to psych themselves up. Their firing was, as before, wild and of more danger to themselves than to Polgar’s and his men. The only thing it did was to allow Polgar to keep track of the progress of their advance.
Step by step the line of Russian infantry came on. When they reached the line of deserted foxholes, some of the Russians began to throw grenades in the foxholes they stumbled upon and increase their rate of fire. As it became obvious that there was no one there, the Russian officers began to shout orders in attempt to regain control of their men. It was while they were milling about in an effort to reorganize and reorient for their next move that Polgar hit them.