As the weapons operator was doing so, movement just north of the town caught the pilot’s eye. Twisting his head about, he spotted several vehicles moving in a northerly direction. Keying the intercom, he informed the weapons operator of his sighting even as he was bringing his aircraft to bear until the weapons operator called out he had the enemy tanks in his sights. While his own weapons operator prepared to engage, the pilot reported his sighting to his flight leader who quickly shifted his orientation.
Like great cats preparing to pounce, the two Soviet MI-24D attack helicopters crouched in the lee of the Keep studying their quarry. A call from the flight leader asking if the pilot or the weapons operator of the trailing Hind had observed any antiaircraft guns or missile launchers caused the weapons operator of that aircraft to scan the area for any trace of a ADA system while the pilot checked his radar warning device to ensure that it was functioning and had not detected any enemy search radars. Only when both were sure they would not be challenged by either surface-to-air missiles or AAA guns did the pilot report back to his flight leader that all was clear before going back to tracking the American tanks, which, at the moment, were out of range.
Only when he was sure both aircraft were set and ready did the flight leader give the order to attack. It would be a standard attack, one they had practiced many times before. As one, they would swoop down on the tanks at high speed. The leader would go for the far tanks while the trailing Hind would attack the near tanks. They were not concerned with the personnel carriers. The American tanks constituted the greatest threat to Soviet ground forces and, as such, made the risk of making two passes, one west-to-east, followed immediately by another east-to-west after looping around, before rallying at the Keep.
With the cry of “Urah” shouted out over the radio, the flight leader signaled the start of the attack.
Avery was hanging on to the machine-gun mount with one hand to steady himself while he ran his finger along his map trying desperately to find a landmark he could use as a reference when the cry of “HELICOPTERS, NINE O’CLOCK,” followed by “MISSILE! MISSILE! MISSILE!” caught him by surprise.
Instinctively he looked up and to his front. There was nothing there. He then turned to his right to look at the Team commander’s tank to see what he was doing. For a moment, Avery watched as Alpha 66 began to spew out clouds of white smoke from its exhaust before making a sharp turn to the right, disappearing behind the smoke. It wasn’t until 66 and 3rd Platoon tanks began to fire wildly above his head that it suddenly dawned upon him what was happening.
The pilot of the trailing Hind was surprised at the speed with which the tanks reacted. Almost as one, they had turned and begun to blow huge clouds of white smoke from their engines. Those that could were firing on his aircraft as they madly weaved this way and that. And though their shooting was wild and totally inaccurate, it was extremely disconcerting to see angry red tracers rising up toward him. A couple of the tanks were even firing their cannons. He had force himself to ignore his natural instincts to break off the attack and focus his full, undivided attention on closing on their target.
One of the lead tanks had not turned or cut on its smoke generator. The pilot quickly oriented on this stray even as he was ordering his weapons operator to engage it. Already tracking the tank his pilot selected as their first target, the weapons operator let fly a 9M17 antitank guided missile.
There followed several tense moments as the attention of both Soviet aviators remained riveted on that one tank, ignoring as best they could the hail of ground fire being thrown up at them. They were committed, and nothing short of divine intervention or a golden BB was going to stop them.
2nd Lieutenant Randall Avery, a distinguished military graduate fresh out of Fort Knox’s Armored Officer’s Basic Course, had just enough time to catch a quick glimpse of the hideous attack helicopter bearing down on him and the fiery blur of a round object proceeding it before the Russian antitank guided missile struck home.
The second their missile hit the tank they’d engaged, the pilot jerk his joystick to the left, increased his speed, and made a run to the north. He wasn’t about to try for a second shot on this run. One hit was good enough.
As he was bringing his aircraft around, a fast-moving object caught his attention. Looking up, he was startled to see an American attack helicopter bearing down on him from the north. It must have been with the scout they had seen before. The weapons operator saw it at the same instant. Without hesitation, he began to lay the 12.7mm Gatling gun mounted in a chin turret on the enemy aircraft. He was just about to fire when his pilot jerked his joystick to the left again in a desperate effort to evade. This did him little good. The American easily adjusted his aim and fired.
A violent shudder and the sight of his weapons operator to his front disappear in a rapid series of small explosions was all the pilot of the trailing Hind saw as 20mm cannon shells ripped into his aircraft as the cockpit began to fill with smoke.
The Hind pilot was still struggling with the controls of his aircraft, trying to escape the hail of cannon rounds pelting it when it was consumed in a ball of fire that scattered its fragments across the Germany countryside.
“WE GOT ’EM! WE GOT ’EM!”
Bannon turned around to see what his loader was yelling about. Dowd was hanging onto his machinegun with one hand and pointing to the north with the other. In the distance, Bannon could see a fire and black smoke. Dowd, with a grin from ear to ear, turned back to view the conflagration he was sure he had contributed to.
“Forget him. He’s gone. Keep your eyes open for the other son-of-a-bitch,” Bannon yelled before ordering Kelp to cut the smoke generator off, but to be ready to kick it back on. He then called to the platoon leaders for a SITREP. Garger quickly came back with the report that two of his tanks had observed the second Hind disappear to the east, chased by a pair of AH-1 attack helicopters, which Bannon guessed belonged to air cav troop that had been reconning to their front. For once, he reflected as his eyes turned skyward, someone up there was looking out for the Team.
Believing the air attack had accomplished little more than scattering the Team, he ordered the platoon leaders to rally their tracks, then form up on Alpha 66. As the smoke and confusion caused by the Hinds had not cleared, it would take a few minutes to sort things out. With that in mind, he ordered Kelp to find some cover and stop. It was only then that Bannon realized Avery hadn’t replied to his call for SITREP. It was Hebrock, coming up on the Team net to report that Alpha 21 had been hit during the attack that provided him with the reason that officer hadn’t.
“Damn!” Bannon thought as he mentally amended his earlier assessment. Not everyone could be lucky. By now he had come to accept the cruel fact that in war, people died. What irked him at the moment was the way second lieutenants assigned to the 2nd platoon seemed to be making a habit of it.
With nothing to do as he waited for his platoons to rally, Bannon stood upright and took to looking around to see if he could spot Alpha 21. His efforts to spot the crippled tank were hindered by the lingering clouds of the smoke that had been thrown up by the tanks, leaving him little choice by to called Hebrock and request further details. In response, Hebrock replied he’d let him know how bad things were as soon as he reached 21’s position and had a chance to assess the situation there.