Before firing its LAWs, the squad attacking this tank tossed smoke grenades at it. Once the smoke was thick enough, the squad leader maneuvered his tank killer team into position behind the tank where he knew the turret would not be able to be turned on them because of the trees lining either side of the trail. Once set, the LAW gunners waited for the smoke to clear. When they had a clear shot, the LAW gunners began to fire. The squad leader was the first to fire. Then the next man loosed his rocket. Then the third. At the range they were at, no one was missing. The LAWs slammed into the crippled tank one after the other at a measured interval. As Polgar watched, he saw that the third tank was doomed. It was only a question of how many LAWs it would take to do the job.
The crew of the tank knew this as well. Deciding there was no point in dying for the Motherland just for the sake of dying, they opted to surrender. Warily, the gunner stuck a hand up out of the commander’s hatch and waved a grease stained white rag. Both Polgar and the NCO in charge of the LAW gunners ordered a cease-fire. This was something new. They were finally going to meet the enemy, a defeated enemy.
After the firing had stopped, the Russian gunner stuck his head out through the open hatch and looked around. Only when he was sure he wasn’t going to be shot did he continued to climb out. When he saw the first American, he stopped and waved the white rag at him. The gunner didn’t move until the American signaled him to climb down. As he did so, the driver opened his hatch and climbed out and onto the ground.
Both Russians were terrified. Searched at gunpoint, their pistols and anything else that could be used as a weapon were stripped from them. While this search was in progress, a squad leader climbed up to check out the tank commander. When it was discovered he was still alive, two more infantrymen climbed up and gave the NCO a hand, lowering the wounded Russian down and away from the tank while the medic was called. The Russian gunner and driver, seeing this, relaxed. The horror stories their political officers had told them about Americans killing prisoners were lies. They were safe. They would live.
As he worked on the wounded tank commander, the medic thought how ironic this was. Not more than two minutes ago the Russian he was working on had trying to kill them. Now he was doing his damnedest to save the fucker’s life. War was definitely screwed up, the medic concluded. He hoped someday someone would explain it all to him. But not now. He had a man’s life that needed saving.
Bannon was in the process of gathering the commanders of Team Bravo and Delta Company when Polgar reported the tanks. As soon as he heard about it, he ordered Uleski to take the Team’s tanks up to the Mech Platoon’s position. Once there he was to establish a defensive position blocking that trail with one tank platoon and the Mech Platoon, holding the other tank platoon back as a ready reaction force for the battalion.
His meeting with the other commanders was further interrupted by the arrival of Major Jordan. A Delta Company PC making a sweep of the area had found the major and the survivors of the command group in a ditch where they had taken cover in when their tracks had been hit. Jordan was covered with mud and bloodstains and shaken, but was otherwise all right.
As soon as he saw the gathered commanders, he smiled. “Bannon, I never thought that I would be so damned happy to see those tanks of yours as I was when they came rolling down off the hill. It was great.” Still rattled by his near brush with death, Jordan’s eyes kept darting about as he talked fast, without pausing to catch his breath.
Bannon was no less happy to see the major and told him so. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, sir. For a while we thought the whole command group was gone. Did Colonel Reynolds make it?”
“He’s been wounded, badly wounded. The medics have him now. Both our tracks were hit in the first volley. That any of us survived is nothing short of a miracle. As it was, we had three dead and five wounded in the command group alone. How did the rest of the battalion do?”
While the Major sat, drinking water and regaining his composure, Bannon went over the current status of the battalion. “Charlie Company has, for all practical purposes, ceased to exist. I attached the two squads of infantry and their PCs as well as one ITV that managed to make it out unscathed to Delta Company,” Bannon informed Jordan. “There are still a number of individual stragglers being policed up, but many of them were wounded. All of Charlie’s officers and senior NCOs who are dead, wounded, or still unaccounted for. I expect it’ll be awhile before anyone can come up with a total casualty count for that unit. Delta Company lost three PCs and one ITV. Their total casualties included five dead, thirteen wounded, and three missing. Team Bravo came out of the fight without a single casualty.”
“And Team Yankee?” Jordan asked.
“Not counting the one I lost to the Hinds, just one tank was damaged, Alpha 33. Two of its crew suffered minor wounds that don’t require anything more than a Band-Aid.”
Still shaken by his experience, it took Jordan a minute to take in what Bannon was telling him. When he did look up, he sighed. “The battalion’s lost a lot of good men and equipment.”
“By my count, fifteen PCs, three ITVs, and one tank in exchange for ten enemy tanks,” Bannon replied glumly. “If you ask me, that’s a shitty kill ratio. At that rate, we’ll run out of tanks and PCs long before they do.”
Jordan simply nodded. “Yeah, that’s the idea.” Then, after drawing in a deep breath, he rose to his feet. “Be that as it may, it is what it is. Now, you and I are faced with the chore of sorting this battalion out and getting back into the fight.”
Bannon was about to say he wasn’t exactly eager to get back in the fight, but didn’t. Shaken by the by the loss of an entire company and his sudden elevation to the command of a battalion that had just been knock on its ass, Jordan was in no shape to hear something like that. Instead, Bannon nodded. “Roger that, sir.”
Major Jordan was still standing on the side of the road with his surviving company commanders when the 1st of the 4th began to roll past and head headed north. Bannon watched as the tank commanders of his parent battalion surveyed the devastation on both sides of the road as they went by. When the command group of the 1st of the 4th rolled by Headquarters 33, the S-3’s tank, broke out of the column and headed over to where Bannon and Jordan were.
Major Shell, the battalion S-3 of 1st of the 4th Armor, climbed down off his tank and asked for a quick update on the enemy situation. Jordan gave him what he had, which wasn’t much. After taking one more look around, Shell wished him luck, gave Bannon a quick nod, mounted his tank, and took off to catch up with the rest of his command group.
Uleski’s report that there were more Soviet tanks coming down the trail towards Team Yankee’s position broke up this impromptu meeting. As he prepared to leave, Bannon asked Jordan if he had any orders for him. Still not completely caught up on the overall picture, Jordan simply shook his head. “No, just hold the flank and keep me posted.” With that, Bannon mounted Alpha 66 and moved up to rejoin the Team.
Bob Uleski was still in the process of redeploying the Team when an OP Polgar had sent out further up the trail reported more Russian tanks were coming on and coming on fast. Realizing this new wave of Soviets would be able to see the smoke of the burning tanks the Mech Platoon had ambushed, Uleski was reasonably sure the trick of hiding in the woods and hitting them in the flank would not work a second time. Besides, the Mech Platoon had used up most of the LAWs and the last of their anti-tank mines during the last one.