"I don't think we need to worry about that. The colonel is too much of a professional to do anything dumb simply to save face."
"God, I hope you're right, sir."
They turned to covering the next move. The air cavalry had come across some trucks and reconnaissance vehicles as they roamed out to the front. They scattered the trucks and destroyed the recon vehicles. Unfortunately, the cavalry scouts could not tell if they were Polish or belonged to someone else. A scout helicopter had tried to land near one of the destroyed vehicles to check this out but had drawn fire from an unseen enemy. Not being able to obtain this information and confident that the front would be clear for awhile, Major Jordan requested that the air cav troop shift over to the east and cover the battalion's right flank. The brigade S-3 replied that he would look into that.
Colonel Reynolds, having monitored the reports from the air cav troop, called Jordan on the battalion net and ordered him to get Team Yankee on the move again but at a slower pace.
He informed the Major that the rest of the battalion would be moving out momentarily and would be able to catch up provided Team Yankee didn't get carried away again. Major Jordan looked at Bannon, grinned, and told the colonel that he would keep the tankers in check. As soon as the transmission ended, Jordan asked if Bannon had any questions. He replied in the negative; he was to get moving but keep it slow. With that, he went back to 66 and prepared to move the Team.
Orders to stop clearing the town came none too soon as far as Sergeant Polgar was concerned. The house-to-house search was getting old. He didn't want to lose any more of his people to some runny-nosed commie who had not even begun to shave yet. Besides, this kind of work was hard. When he had charged the stairs and thrown himself into the room in the house where the sniper had been, he had landed flat on his chest, forgetting there were still grenades hanging on his web gear. The force of the fall had knocked the wind out of him, and the grenades had dug into his chest. He could feel the bruises forming. As the tracks pulled out of town and headed back to the Team, he decided that he was getting too old to be running around playing John Wayne. In the future, he was going to leave the gung-ho stuff to the young kids in his platoon. He also decided that in the next war, he was going to find himself a nice cushy staff job at the Pentagon, fixing coffee for the generals. His campaigning days were over. War, thought Polgar, belongs to the young and strong.
Avery had mixed feelings about moving again. While sitting in this semi-exposed position was dangerous, moving out into the open again, this time in broad daylight with high ground to both sides of the Team, was more unnerving. The Team commander had ordered him to have his platoon go into a left echelon. This he had done. The 21 was now in the lead with the rest of the platoon trailing off to the left and behind him. The Team commander was off to the right of 21 with 3rd Platoon farther to the right, also in an echelon formation but refusing its right. The Mech Platoon was to the rear in the center traveling with the XO.
As the Team moved forward, Avery found it difficult to observe his assigned sector, keep track of where they were on the map he had out to his front, control 21's driver, and keep one eye on the platoon and the other on the Team commander. On top of this, 21 was running across a plowed field against the furrows and an occasional drainage ditch. It seemed that every time he looked down at the map to see where they were, the driver would hit a ditch, catching the young lieutenant by surprise and rattling him around in the cupola. At times, it seemed that he was unable to control 21, let alone the platoon, and that he was only along for the ride. There had to be a way to manage all of this with some degree of efficiency. How to do that, however, was beyond him.
The Soviet attack helicopter pilot slowly eased his aircraft into position. With a little luck, their target would be just over the rise to their front. They were lucky to have made it this far.
The lead helicopter had barely avoided an enemy scout helicopter on their run in. Although the weapons operator had felt confident that they could have taken out the frail scout, it was not their assigned mission to do so. Someone else would deal with the bothersome scout.
They were hunting for tanks.
The two attack helicopters stationed themselves on either side of an ancient keep that they had used as their rally point and for reference. If the reports were correct, when they popped up over the trees, there would be a town to their front and a group of tanks sitting stationary east of it. When the pilot of the lead helicopter signaled that he was set, the attack helicopters began to slowly raise until the weapons operator's field of vision was clear. The pilot, seated behind and a little higher than the weapons operator, saw the town first. Once he had the town in sight, he then began to search to the east of the town for the enemy tanks.
He couldn't see them. He ordered the weapons operator to search the area with his powerful sight.
As the weapons operator was searching, something caught the eye of the pilot. There was movement to the north of the town. He turned and looked. Several objects were moving.
Over the intercom, he informed the weapons operator of his sighting and turned the aircraft until it was facing almost due east. The weapons operator had no trouble finding his targets.
He quickly identified them as M- I tanks and M-113 personnel carriers. The pilot reported this to his leader who also shifted his orientation to the east and found the targets.
Like great cats preparing to pounce on their prey, the two Soviet MI-24D attack helicopters studied their targets for a moment. The leader called back and asked if the pilot or the weapons operator had observed any antiaircraft guns or missile launchers. The weapons operator replied in the negative. The pilot checked his radar warning device to ensure that it was functioning and had not detected any enemy search radars before reporting back to his leader. The pilot and weapons operator then continued to track their targets, which were far out of range, while they waited for their leader's orders.
The orders came. Both helicopters would swoop-down on the moving tanks at high speed.
The leader would go for the far tanks, and the second MI-24D would attack the near tanks.
They were not concerned with the personnel carriers. The two attack helicopters would be able to take out two tanks, maybe four, on their first pass. After overflying the target, the two MI-241s would turn north, loop around, and attack the tanks head-on. The leader felt confident that they would be able to make two passes on the enemy before any outside help could intervene. After the second run, both helicopters were to rally at the castle keep. They would then decide if they should continue the attack or break it off. Yelling an old Russian battle cry over the radio, the 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. The cry of "HELICOPTERS-NINE O'CLOCK," followed rapidly by "MISSILE-MISSILEMISSILE," 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 66 began to spew out clouds of white smoke from its exhaust and then turn to the right, disappearing behind the smoke.
When 66 and the 3rd Platoon began to fire wildly above his head, it suddenly dawned upon him what was happening. Avery turned around just in time to see the hideous attack helicopter bearing down on him, preceded by a round object, growing larger by the second and spewing flames. The impact of the antitank guided missile came before Avery could react.