Looking over and down into the loader’s hatch, he saw Newman slouched over in his seat, leaning against the turret wall sound asleep. A quick scan of the tight circle of tank and PCs failed to reveal any sign of movement. Instead of being alert and watching their sectors, track commanders were slumped across their machineguns asleep. Scattered about their tracks, infantrymen lay curled up on the ground asleep where they had fallen. Even the wounded were quiet. The calamity was complete. To a man, Team Yankee had dozed off.
Dropping down, Bannon took to waking the crew of 55 starting with the gunner, who was lying up against the main gun. “Sergeant GWENT! Sergeant GWENT! WAKE UP!”
Startled, Gwent sat up, shook his head before jerking upright in his seat when he realized he had fallen asleep. “Oh shit! I fell asleep. Goddamn, I’m sorry sir.”
“Well, don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. Everyone is asleep.” It took a second for Gwent to appreciate what Bannon was saying. When he did, his eyes grew as big as hen’s eggs, “You mean we didn’t pull off that hill yet? We’re still behind enemy lines?”
“Target. Now, get the rest of the crew up while I wake the Team up. AND DON’T CRANK THE TANK.”
Without waiting for a response, Bannon scrambled out his hatch and began to dismount the tank, forgetting in his haste that the spaghetti cord connecting his CVC to the intercom was still plugged in. Only when he felt his head jerked backwards did he pause long enough to disconnect it before jumping off 55. Once on the ground, he headed for the track nearest Alpha 55 first.
There he found the Mech Infantry platoon sergeant leaning against the side of a tree with his M-16 cradled in his arms, asleep. After being shaken a moment, Polgar eyes opened into narrow slits, looked to the left, then to the right, and finally at Bannon. Just as Bannon before him, when he realized what had happened, his eyes flew wide open. “SHIT! I fell asleep.”
“Well, Sergeant Polgar, you ain’t alone. Wake up the XO and your people while I get the tank crews. Gather the leadership at 55 when they’re up. AND DON’T START ANY ENGINES. Clear?”
“Clear.” With that, Polgar was up in a flash, hustling from body to body, waking each one up with kicks, shakes, and curses while Bannon trotted over to 31.
Garger was leaning over backwards in the open hatch of his tank, asleep. With his arms extended off to the side and stiff, he looked as if he had been shot. “Gerry! Gerry! Lieutenant Garger! WAKE UP!”
His eyes opened in tiny slits. Like Polgar, he looked at Bannon for a moment, then jumped upright. “OH SHIT!”
It occurred to Bannon that instead of good morning, “Oh shit!” was fast becoming the standard greeting for the Team. He imagined had their predicament not been as serious as it was, this whole situation would have been comical.
“Gerry, get the rest of the tank crews up and have the TCs meet me over at 55. And tell the TCs not to crank the tanks.” As Bannon was getting off, Garger scootched down and gave his gunner a swift kick between his shoulder blades, yelling for him to wake up as he did so.
As he headed back to 55, Bannon began to work on a way out of this one. There would be no slipping away unseen, not in broad daylight. That thought was disturbing. But staying here to face a new series of Russian attacks was equally distasteful. The collapse of the Team’s security confirmed his belief that it was at the end of its tether. The Russians were sure to come back with more people and tanks, sooner rather than later. Bannon didn’t dare face a wounded bear with a handful of punch-drunk tankers and grunts who were running low on ammunition of all types. They had to pull out.
Once the leaders were together, he issued his orders. The Team would go out the way they had planned. Since the Soviets had not hit them from the south, that was the direction the Team would take. Alpha 55 and 31 would lead, traveling abreast once they were in the open. The PCs would come next, followed by 24 and 22. The Team would move around the west side of the hill that had been Objective LOG and go back into friendly lines the same way they had come out. The only difference in the plan was that rather than creep along in an effort to sneak out, they would roll as fast as the PCs would allow. In addition, the tanks would fire up their smoke generators and blow smoke the entire way back. While 55 and 31 would be exposed to the front and flanks, the PCs and the other two tanks would be hidden in a rolling cloud of smoke.
As they were about to break up and return to their vehicles, a volley of artillery fire impacted to the south in the vicinity of Hill 214. As one, everyone’s head snapped in that direction. When a second volley confirmed their fears, all eyes turned back on Bannon. They had been too late. The Russians were coming back.
“All right, Sergeant Polgar, you come with me. We’re going to go up there and see what’s going on. Bob, you’re in charge while we’re gone. Be ready to crank up and roll if the Russians come. Until then, stay alert and keep quiet. If the Russians come before we’re back, leave without us. Move in the opposite direction of the Russian attack until you’re in the open. Then carry out the plan as we have discussed. Any questions?”
There were none. What else could they do? Bannon turned to Polgar, “Do you have an extra M-16?”
“Yes, sir. I can take one from one of the wounded.”
“Good, get me one, a couple of magazines, and meet me back here, pronto.” Polgar nodded before hustling over to one of the tracks. Bannon turned to Uleski. “Bob, no heroics. If there’s trouble and we’re not back, get out of here. Clear?”
“Clear.”
By the time Polgar had returned with the rifle, Bannon had his helmet and web gear on. After inserting a magazine and chambering a round, the two turned and started to head south. Polgar followed Bannon at a distance of five meters and a little to his right. The assembled leaders watched them go. When they were no longer in sight, Uleski turned back to face the track commanders with him and ordered them to mount up and be ready to move.
Bannon and Polgar had gone about a hundred meters when the artillery stopped. Pausing, they both squatted down and took to listening for a moment. In the silence that followed, the distinct sound of tracked vehicles moving could be heard to the south. Taking the lead, Bannon motioned to Polgar to follow.
It wasn’t until they were nearing the crest of the hill and the tree line that Bannon caught sight of movement to his front. Instinctively, he dropped into a prone firing position behind the nearest tree. Both he and Polgar watched and waited.
To the left Bannon noticed a movement. Then he noticed there was more to the front at a distance of fifty meters. As they watched, a line of figures approached through the woods. He turned to Polgar and whispered, “When I start shooting, run like hell back to the XO and tell him to go east out of here.”
Polgar thought about it. “You’re the Team commander, I’ll cover you. You go back and tell the XO.”
“Damn it, Sergeant, I gave you an order. You better be ready to move when I let go. Clear?” Polgar didn’t reply. He only nodded.
Turning his attention back to front, Bannon watched the line of figures continue forward. Slowly he raised the M-16 up to his shoulder and began to sight in on the nearest figure. This was going to be a very short fight.
As Bannon watched the lead figure in his sight, it occurred to him that the uniform was very familiar. It was camouflaged. So far the Russians they had faced weren’t wearing camouflage. Then he noticed the rifle. It was an M-16. They were Americans. “They’re ours,” he whispered to Polgar.