To take his mind off 66’s dilemma, he switched the radio to the battalion net and called Major Jordan in order to inform him of the Team’s move. Not surprisingly, instead of contacting the major himself, Bannon found himself conversing with a slow-talking radio/telephone operator who answered for the major. Relaying a message through an RTO can be like getting a new secretary for a major corporation. You know that your message is going to be screwed up even if it finds its way to the right person. His conversation with the major’s RTO was a case in point.
First, the man didn’t know the proper call signs, insisting that Bannon identify himself fully before letting him proceed with the message. Once he accepted the fact that Bannon really did belong on the battalion net, he couldn’t find the major. He had no idea where the major had gone, but said that he would take a message and pass it on. Next, Bannon had to repeat the message twice before the RTO got it down. It wasn’t a very long or complicated message. All he had to do was tell the major that a forest fire had forced Team Yankee to displace and that the Team was now en route to the 2nd Platoon’s location. Simple. When the RTO finally read the message back slowly and correctly, he made Bannon authenticate to make sure that he wasn’t the enemy.
The unusual situation Team Yankee was having to deal with and his efforts to get a message through a slow-witted RTO was all too common, and could be viewed as funny, but only in the past tense. In the present, however, Bannon was finding it to be extremely frustrating and unnerving. There he was, a commander who was in the middle of dealing with a crisis in desperate need of passing an important message over the radio to his higher ups. The only person he can manage to raise on the radio and leave that message with is a class-three moron sitting snug and secure in a command track back in the rear who is just learning how to use a radio. In Bannon’s top ten list of frustrating things a commanding officer had to deal with, this sort of thing was near the top.
He had no sooner cleared his mind of the painfully slow conversation with the RTO when the same man came back and told him that his request to displace was denied, that the Team was to stay in place until the major came to the position and discussed the matter in person with him. Bannon was livid. How the RTO had managed to screw up the message even after he’d had the man to read it back to make sure the man had it right was beyond him. He didn’t give the RTO another chance. Controlling himself, Bannon told the RTO to put the major on the radio ASAP.
By the time he finished with the RTO the second time, 55 was beginning to clear the forest and reenter the valley. It came none too soon, for Alpha 66 emerged from the forest just as the fire began to spread to the tree branches above the tank. A few more minutes would have been a few too many. Once again, luck and timing was on Team Yankee’s side.
It was early afternoon before Major Jordan made it up to the Team’s new position. By then the two platoons that had escaped the fire had established themselves in the tree line that was not in danger of catching fire on either side of 2nd Platoon. Once there the Team paused to catch its collective breath, unwind, and look after personal needs. It had been on the move or in combat without a serious break for almost nine hours, leaving everyone in a something of a stupor. To a man, the soldiers belonging to the Team were moving with a stilted deliberateness that put Bannon in mind of men who’d had a wee too much to drink. Before the Team could be of any use to anyone, they needed a break. That included him.
Major Jordan found Bannon sitting against a tree a short distance from Alpha 66, stripped down to his tee shirt with his gear in a tangled heap next to him munching on an MRE. Bannon made no effort to stand up or stop what he was doing as Jordan approached.
When he reached Bannon, Jordan stood looking down at him for a long moment. Then, without a word, he dropped down next to Bannon, removed his helmet, unbuckled his LBE, and leaned back against the same tree. When Bannon offered him a canteen, Jordan took it and drank as Bannon continued to eat.
“Sean, it’s been a hell of a day so far,” Jordan opined after a few minutes “A hell of a day.”
Bannon arched a brow as he glanced over at Jordan warily out of the corner of his eyes. “So far? You got some cheery news that’s going to make my day even more exciting than it’s already been?”
“I just finished talking with the brigade commander. He told me the battalion’s done a great job, that he’s proud to have it in his command. He then went on to inform me that he had all the confidence in the world that I would do well as its commander.”
“Oh-oh. Sounds to me as if the Old Man was setting the new battalion commander up for a hummer of a job. Care to share what it is with this broke dick tanker?”
“I was just about to do that,” Jordan declared glumly. “It seems the tank battalion we were hit by is part of a Soviet tank regiment Division believes is still headed our way with the mission of sealing off the breakthrough we’ve made. The brigade commander feels that since we did such a good job dealing with its lead battalion, we should have the honor of finishing it off when it arrives.”
“Bully for us. Did anyone bother to tell you tell you how and where we’re to accomplish this martial feat?”
“The where is easy. Everyone thinks they’ll attack through the Langen Gap, just north of here. The how is up to us.”
“You got any brilliant ideas yet, sir?”
“Not yet. That’s why I came here to talk to you. I figure between the two of us we can come up with something.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir. My daddy always said misery enjoys company. Lunch, however, has a higher priority at the moment. Care to join me?”
“Hell, why not. I need some time to get myself together. After spending the last two hours down in the valley sorting out the rest of the battalion, I finally know what General Terry felt like when he came across Custer and the 7th Cavalry at the Little Bighorn.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t envy your position.”
“Sean, stow the saddle soap and pass me some food.”
For the next quarter-hour the events of the morning were forgotten, as best they could be, and the chore of preparing for their new mission was set aside as the two officers munched on dehydrated foods. Just as it is necessary for the body to digest a meal, the mind had to be given a break and allowed an opportunity to sort itself out. For most of Team Yankee, the morning events had been nothing new. If anything, some of the men were becoming a little too casual about the death and destruction that surrounded them. For Major Jordan, however, this morning had been his baptism by fire. He was experiencing now what Bannon had gone through during the Hill 214 debacle. No one needed to tell Bannon the major had come to the Team to escape the horror show in the valley as well as in search of someone with whom he could share his new burden. Whether misery really did enjoy company was something Bannon could not attest to. It did, however, need sympathy, and sympathy, in being able to spend time with someone who wasn’t staring at him, waiting to be told what to do, or trying to get something from him he could not give was something Major Jordan was in desperate need of at the moment. It was something Bannon was more than happy to give without needing to be asked, or making a big deal of it.
The afternoon was passing quietly. Only the distant rumble of artillery and an occasional crack from a tank cannon to the north broke the stillness. The bright day had given way to clouds and a cool wind coming from the west, foreshadowing a coming storm. In the Team area the crews continued to check their tracks, clean weapons, and redistribute ammunition between tanks in an unhurried, but purposefulness manner. There wasn’t much talking or shouting. Very little motion was wasted. A casual observer would have had difficulty determining who was in charge. Officers and NCOs were just as dirty and just as busy, except for Bannon, as the rest of their people. The men knew what had to be done and did it. No one was shouting, no one was rushing about. The Team, through habits born from countless hours of training and drills, was preparing for its next battle.