Reluctantly, Hebrock and the Alpha 22 cranked up and moved out. Swinging out wide before turning north, the two tanks slowly began to advance side by side, beating the ground before them with their machineguns as if they were spraying for insects. The violence and terror of being in their first firefight, coupled with the irresistible advance of the steel monsters proved to be too much for some of the Russians. Rather than stay where they were, or follow their officers, they began to break and run. From their positions, the crews of the PCs watched, waiting for targets. Every time a Russian in their sector of fire got up, the riflemen and machine gunners cut him down before he managed to take two steps. When the tanks reached the end of the area where the Russians had gone to ground and began to mask the fire of the PCs, they swung around and went back through the area again, searching out those who had survived the first run. A few, who had managed to keep their wits about them played dead, waited for the first chance that came their way before crawling away and out of the line of fire.
With no more targets, Uleski ordered 22 and 24 to move to their alternate positions. He also moved the two PCs. Once this repositioning was finished and quiet returned to his sector, he reported the status of his element to Bannon.
Potecknov was not at all pleased with the progress, or more correctly, the lack of progress that his companies were making. From the second floor window of a house on the edge of Arnsdorf, he watched the destruction of the tanks and BTRs, followed by the methodical massacre of his troops. Although he could see officers here and there attempting to get their men up and moving, their efforts accomplished little more than adding to the carnage he was witnessing.
Making matters worse, Potecknov had lost contact with the company on the far side of the hill following an initial and incomplete report that they were in contact. Only the company commander in the woods attacking from the east had reported that he was making progress. As if to confirm this, Potecknov could hear the report of the T-72’s cannon and see an occasional flash. Deciding that the attack offered the best chance of success, he turned to his deputy and ordered him to stay there with the political officer. They were to do all they could to reorganize the unit to their front while he went around to east and pushed the attack through the woods. Without further ado, Potecknov ran down the stairs and into the street to his vehicle. He was determined to win, regardless of the cost.
Uleski’s report found 55 and 31 in the same type of stalemate that he had been in before the sweep by 22 and 24. As Bannon monitored that action, he considered doing the same thing. Thus far, Alpha 55 and 31 had destroyed six BTRs in addition to the two tanks. Two BTRs and some of the infantry in the second line had managed to pull back into the village. Those Russians who had been in first-line had scattered and gone to ground. Some, who had taken cover near the burning vehicles, used every opportunity that came their way to crawl away from the light and heat thrown off by the burning vehicles. Sometimes they misjudged, as they quickly learned when their efforts were rewarded by a burst of fire from either 55 or 31. A few stout-hearted souls, realizing they were going to die anyway, even attempted to engage 55 and 31 with RPGs. Their efforts to crawl close enough to engage the American tanks were quickly and effectively dealt with by the tanks.
While there was no longer any return fire from the line of pinned Russian infantry, Bannon knew there were many of them who were still alive. If they were allowed to stay where they were or managed to make it back to Arnsdorf, they would be of no immediate concern. But if some of their officers were able to rally a few men and slip around to the rear, 55 and 31 would be in danger.
The shifting of the barrage that had been pelting the trail junction to the tree line where 55 and 31 were located decided Bannon’s next move. Rather than sit there and be pounded, 55 and 31 were going to attack.
“MIKE 77, THIS IS ROMEO 25, OVER.”
“THIS IS MIKE 77.”
“THIS IS 25, WE ARE GOING TO ATTACK. WE WILL ADVANCE ABREAST TOWARD THE VILLAGE AT 10 MILES PER HOUR. ONCE WE REACH THE VILLAGE WE WILL GO UP THE STREET THE BTRS WENT UP. FALL IN BEHIND ME AS WE GO THROUGH THE VILLAGE AND COVER OUR REAR. HOW COPY SO FAR? OVER.”
“THIS IS 77. GOOD COPY. OVER.”
“THIS IS 25. ONCE IN THE VILLAGE WE WILL TURN RIGHT ON THE MAIN ROAD AND GO NORTH OUT OF THE VILLAGE. FROM THERE FOLLOW ME. I’M NOT SURE WHERE WE WILL GO, OVER.”
“THIS IS 77. WILCO. OVER.”
“THIS IS 25, LET’S ROLL.”
“THIS IS 77. I HEARD THAT.”
Garger didn’t have to tell his driver twice. He was just as anxious to get out from under the artillery fire as his lieutenant was. As 31 broke the tree line, Garger could see 55 illuminated by the fires of the burning Russian vehicles. Both he and his loader increased their rates of fire as they began to indiscriminately spray the ground before them with machinegun fire without slowing down.
The sudden appearance of the American tanks proved to be too much for many of the survivors still lying on the ground between the village and the tree line. First there had been the battle between the tanks, which their tanks had lost. Then there had been the accurate and deadly machinegun fire that had cut down their comrades, their officers, and anyone who was foolish enough to move. Their BTRs had been reduced to burning hulks that were incinerating their crews and lighting up the area round them, leaving them exposed. Everywhere they looked their eyes fell upon a fresh vision of horror, burning vehicles, and scores of dead and wounded comrades, creating a growing sense in each man that he was alone. All this pushed the green Russian soldiers to the limit of their endurance. The appearance of the American tanks closing on them, indiscriminately spewing death as they came, pushed them beyond it.
Alpha 55 and 31 had no sooner cleared the tree line and gotten out from under the artillery when individual Russian soldiers began to jump up and flee. Lorriet, 55’s driver, fought the urge to go faster than ten miles an hour. Bannon, the loader, and the gunner each covered a different sector, engaging Russians as they came across them. Newman was oriented to the left flank, Gwent the center, and Bannon the right. Those who were smart and not in the direct path of the advancing tanks stayed put and played dead. There were few smart Russians that night.
Slowly the tanks converged on the village. At the edge of it, Alpha 31’s driver slowed down in order to allow Alpha 55 to take the lead. Before plunging into the narrow streets of Arnsdorf, Garger traversed its turret around and over his tank’s rear deck, taking every opportunity that came his way to fire on Russians who were attempting to flee the carnage.
When Alpha 55 reached the first corner in the village and turned, it was greeted by a BTR at a range of twenty meters that was frantically trying to back up and get out of the way. Both the BTR commander and Bannon looked at each other for the briefest of moments before they began to issue frantic orders.
“GUNNER, BATTLESIGHT, BTR!”
The shock of seeing a target so close caused the gunner to raise the level of his reply several decibels.
“IDENTIFIED!”
“SABOT LOADED UP!”
“FIRE!”
At this range, and with the speed of the SABOT round, firing and impact were almost simultaneous. Bannon felt heat of the impact on his face. The brilliant flash of contact and the shower of sparks lit up the street and momentarily blinded him. The SABOT round, designed to penetrate the thick frontal armor of tanks, cut through the center of the BTR and continued down the street behind the BTR and into a building. The BTR burst into flames and staggered to a stop.