When the RTO finally read the message back slowly and correctly, he made Bannon authenticate to make sure that he wasn't the enemy. This situation, the company commander trying to get a message through a slow-witted RTO, is common and sometimes funny when it is in the past tense. In the present, however, it is extremely frustrating and unnerving. On one end of the radio is a man in danger, wanting to pass a message rapidly or requesting orders or seeking support. On the other end is a class-three moron sitting snug and secure in a command track, learning how to use a radio for the first time and mad because the radio call interrupted his lunch. A leader can know no greater frustration than this.
Bannon had no sooner cleared his mind of the painfully slow radio conversation with the RTO when the same man came back and told him that the request was denied and that the Team was to stay in place until the major came to the position and saw what was wrong.
Bannon was livid. How the RTO had managed to screw up the message in less than five minutes was beyond him. He didn't give the RTO another chance. Controlling himself, Bannon told the RTO to get the major and have him call immediately. 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. The 66 came out of the forest just as the fire began to spread above the tank. A few more minutes would have been a few too many. Once again, luck and timing were on Team Yankee's side.
It was early afternoon before Major Jordan made it up to the Team's position. The two platoons that had escaped the fire established themselves in the tree line on either side of 2nd Platoon. The fire had been momentarily stopped by some old fire breaks. The tank positioned nearest the fire, however, had the task of keeping an eye out in that direction for any spread of the flames.
The Team spent the time unwinding and taking care of personal needs. It had been on the move or in combat for almost nine hours when it finally pulled in with the 2nd Platoon. The emotional roller-coaster ride and physical efforts of the morning left everyone in a slight stupor. The crews moved at half-speed and with a deliberation that put one in mind of a drunkard. Before the Team could be of — any use to anyone, the men, including Bannon, needed a break.
Major Jordan found Bannon sitting against a tree behind 66, eating some dehydrated rations, and drinking from a canteen. He was stripped to the waist, his gear in a tangled heap next to him. He remained where he was as Jordan approached. He noted that the major was also suffering from fatigue. When he reached Bannon, he stood and looked down. Then, without a word, Jordan dropped down and took off some of his gear and helmet. Bannon handed him a canteen without a word, and he took it and drank from it without a word. The two sat there in silence for a moment, both with their backs against the tree, watching the men in Team Yankee go about their business.
"Sean, it's been a hell of a day so far. A hell of a day." "So far? You got some cheery news that's going to make my day or something?"
"I just got done talking with the brigade commander. He told me that the battalion had done a great job and how he was proud to have it in his command. Then he went on to tell me that he had all the confidence in the world that I would do well as its commander."
"Oh oh. Sounds to me, major, like the Old Man was setting the battalion up for a hummer of a job. You got something you're trying to tell this broken down tanker?"
"'Fraid so, Sean. It seems like the tanks we were hit by were only part of a Soviet tank regiment. Division and brigade seem to think that the rest of that regiment is going to try to stop the division's attack again tonight. The brigade commander feels that since we did such a good job with the lead battalion, we should be allowed to finish off the regiment. "
"Bully for us. Did anyone tell you how and where?"
"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. 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 know what General Terry felt like when he found Custer and the 7th Cavalry at the Little Bighorn."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't envy your position. "
"Sean, save the saddle soap and pass me some food."
For a few minutes, the events of the morning were allowed to pass 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 allowed to sort out events and images. For most of Team Yankee, the morning events were not 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 was his baptism by fire. He was experiencing now what Bannon had gone through during the Hill 214 debacle. Bannon thought that the major had come to the Team to escape the horror show in the valley and to find someone with whom to share his new burden.
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 were moving about, checking their tracks, cleaning weapons, or redistributing ammunition between tanks.
There wasn't much talking or shouting. Very little motion was wasted. A casual observer would not be able to determine who was in charge of the Team. Officers and NCOs were just as dirty and just as busy, except for Bannon, as the rest of the crew. The men knew what had to be done and did it. No shouting, no unnecessary rushing about. The Team, through habits born from countless hours of training and drills, was preparing for its next battle.
When they had finished their meal, the major and Bannon unfolded a map and laid it out on the ground. From a prone position, Bannon studied the map as the major went over the information he had received from brigade. The Langen Gap was actually a small valley running from east to west, connecting the main valley the battalion was in and the valley to the east where the Soviet tank regiment was located. The town of Langen itself was in the center of the gap with high ground to the north and south.
After studying the terrain, they discussed the various ways the Soviets could come. Both were in agreement that they probably would not try sneaking through the woods again. They had already tried that and failed miserably. Odds were, they would try to bull through this time. Hence division's and brigade's belief that they would use the Langen Gap, a conclusion that both Jordan and Bannon concurred with. If the Soviets did come through the gap, they would be forced to go north or south of the village. Thus, the village provided a natural strongpoint if needed. In the gap itself there were few natural positions, other than Langen, from which the battalion could defend. They couldn't and wouldn't put the whole battalion in the town of Langen itself. From the beginning it was decided that D company, along with the remnants of C company, would defend from Langen. It was the positioning of the two teams that was difficult. If they were deployed on the east slopes of the hills north and south of Langen, they would be out on their own and exposed to Soviet artillery and supporting fires. A team deployed on the southern slope of Hill 358 would be masked by the town of Langen and at too great a range to be of much use. There were very few options.