When the S-3 finished and before the S-4 took his place at the map, the colonel got up and emphasized certain points that he felt were critical. The first one was that the battalion was going for the deep objective, Leipzig. Any resistance that could not be overcome in the first rush was to be bypassed. The second was that he wanted to keep the battalion closed up and tight so that if they did encounter major enemy forces, the full weight of the battalion could be brought to bear on the enemy rapidly and with maximum violence. The last point he made was that there would be no tolerance for a repeat of the screw-ups that had hamstrung the last operation. He was looking straight at Cravin as he made that point.
As usual, Bannon’s mind turned to the new mission as the S-4, S-l, and other staff officers covered their areas. Uleski would catch any important information that they might accidentally add to what had already been briefed. Tuning everyone else out, Bannon studied the map on his lap as he ran a finger along the battalion’s projected axis of advance. There would be more than enough room to maneuver the Team in the valley they would be moving through. There were several choke points, but nothing of any significance. In his opinion, the greatest threat would come from the hills to the east. He began to draw goose eggs around those spots that struck him as being ideal for defense or from which a counterattack might come. When this was done, he assigned each one a letter before turning his attention to plotting the best route the Team would need to take to pass through the choke points he’d marked and deal with any threats that came their way. Without needing to give the matter all that much thought, he quickly concluded the ideal formation appeared to be an inverted wedge, with the two tank platoons deployed forward and the Mech taking up the rear.
The conclusion of the briefing interrupted his ruminations. After a brief huddle with Uleski and his FIST, he gave each one some items to cover with various staff officers before seeking out the S-3 in order to clarify some points and make some recommendations. When all his questions had been answered to the best of Major Jordan’s ability and he was satisfied he, the XO and his first sergeant had everything they needed to get started with their own planning and preparation, the three of them headed back to the Team’s assembly area.
The Team received the news of the new mission with the same dread that Bannon had. While they knew that they could do their part, they had no confidence in the rest of the battalion. The thought of another fight like that for Hill 214 was not a pleasant one to contemplate. Only Avery seemed anxious to get on with the attack, an attitude Bannon passed it off as foolish naiveté. No doubt he would lose his enthusiasm the first time he had to collect the dog tags from one of his people. Provided he made it that far.
The balance of the day passed quickly. Bannon issued the Team order at noon, just prior to the departure of Uleski, who would be in charge of the Team’s quartering party. He took with him one man from each tank platoon and an infantry squad to provide security and serve as guides once the Team reached its designated assembly area. He was also to go as far forward as possible to recon the routes through the German lines and coordinate with the Germans for fire support and cover during the passage through their lines. As he had little doubt the Soviets saw the danger that the German penetration presented, Bannon expected them to rush everything they could to seal it off or eliminate it. The only question that mattered was who would get there first.
After receiving a brief-back from each of the platoon leaders later in the afternoon on how they were going to perform their assigned tasks and satisfying himself that they were ready, Bannon decided to get some sleep. To this end he made his way to the gasthaus where he borrowed one of the rooms where he could have a few uninterrupted hours. After having slept on the ground or the turret of his tank for eleven days, the sensation of sleeping between clean sheets on a soft bed was sinfully foreign, but welcomed.
The easy manner with which the other platoon leaders and Hebrock went about preparing for the attack amazed Avery. They all were going about their business as if this were a tactical exercise at Fort Knox, not an attack that would take them deep into enemy territory. As hard as he tried, he could not settle down. His mind kept racing, pinging form one thought to another as he did his best to remember everything he had been taught at the Armor School as he prepared to issue his platoon order and make sure his own tank and its crew was ready.
Had he taken a moment to slow down, he would have realized he had little need to worry. Hebrock was always a step ahead of him, issuing orders and checking out the tanks with a quiet efficiency that was reassuring to the platoon. When Avery came to him and told him he was ready to issue his order to the tank commanders, Hebrock suggested that he allow him to look it over. Recalling the team commander’s admonishment concerning listening to his platoon sergeant, Avery agreed. Together the two of them went over the order, item by item, crossing out those parts that Hebrock thought were not needed while adding a few things Avery had overlooked. Hebrock did his best to be as diplomatic and patient as he advised his platoon leader on what he needed to do and say when the time came to issue his order.
When the revised order had been issued and the Team commander satisfied with the brief-back Avery gave him, Hebrock told his lieutenant he needed to get some sleep. At first the young officer balked, claiming that he was fine. Only after the platoon sergeant assured him that there was nothing more to be done and all but insisted that he do so did Avery make the attempt.
An attempt was about all he could manage. As he lay on the turret roof of his tank, Avery’s mind was cluttered with a deluge of thoughts, fears, and problems, real and imagined. Did he cover everything in his order? What if they got lost during the road march? How would he know when they were through the German lines? Would he be able to recall all of his crew and platoon fire commands and issue them in a clear and understandable manner when they made contact? Would he be alive tomorrow? Try as hard as he could to banish these and a whole host of other concerns, his mind refused to slow down, let alone stop dredging up new worries and disquieting doubts. Sleep never came.
The Team began its move at 1800 hours. The old German and his wife watched as they rolled out. First Sergeant Harrert left them two weeks’ worth of rations, an envelope with dollars and Deutsch marks that he had collected, a first-aid kit, two cans of gasoline and the generator, which was safely hidden away in a small shed. In order to keep them from having any trouble with German or US authorities, a receipt with Bannon’s signature, in English and German, identified those items left as payment in kind for services rendered by the old couple. The old woman cried, and the old man saluted as the tanks went past them. Bannon returned the salute. Watching them as 66 moved off made him think of his own parents, thanking God they did not have to suffer as these people were.
Once the Team was on the route of march and he was satisfied his tanks were at the proper march speed and interval, Garger leaned back in Alpha 31’s cupola and relaxed. With little to occupy his thoughts of any great importance and no need to tell his driver what to do so long as nothing untoward happened during the road march, he took to going over the last twelve days and the changes that had occurred in him and the Team. The loss of his platoon sergeant was regrettable. Sergeant First Class Pierson had taught him a lot and had been very patient with him. Had it not been for Pierson, Garger knew he would have been relieved long before the first shot had been fired. The thought of such a disgrace had been more terrifying to him than the prospect of combat.