Reynolds shouted into the handset, his voice drowned out by three explosions that bracketed the tunnel mouth, killing the Milan team and wounding two of the rifle-group below him. “Make it soon, sir, there won’t be any of us left otherwise.”
“Understood. Out.”
“All Delta-Three call signs. Prepare to pull out. Three-One. Stay in situ and cover.”
“Look, sir!” yelled Corporal Marsh, pointing at the BMDs, three of them powering through the smoke. The first one fired its 73mm gun, hitting nothing but causing the British soldiers to duck. The general-purpose machine gun rattled as the gunner poured a steady stream of bullets along the column of armour, but to no avail.
“Three-Three. Pull out, pull out now. Three-One, standby, standby.”
“Grenade!” shouted Sergeant Mason as he threw a grenade towards the advancing enemy, the front BMD of the column now level with their line. The grenade exploded directly in front, but with no effect as the infantry combat vehicle maintained its speed.
“Watch for—”
Lieutenant Reynolds was unable to complete his warning as a round from a PKT, a coaxial machine gun mounted on the second vehicle, struck him square in the chest and he staggered sideways, Sergeant Mason catching him before he hit the ground. The staring eyes told the story, and the sergeant left him, calling to his men to pull back. There weren’t many of Three-Section to hear the order. The rifle-group, bar one man, had been wiped out. Lance Corporal Marsh fell as he was covering his gun-group’s withdrawal. Reynolds’ radio operator was was giving the platoon commander’s runner a fireman’s lift, moving as quickly as he could for cover amongst the few trees that lined the embankment alongside the canal. The two soldiers from Two-Section, sent to guard the canal earlier, provided what cover they could, their SLRs barking as they each emptied a twenty-round magazine. Sergeant Mason ran with the gun-group, throwing themselves down on the grassy bank, and firing at whatever target they could see.
Airborne infantry were following the armour on foot, the last of the vehicles an ASU-85 self-propelled anti-tank gun. Mason saw two of the Soviets go down; then felt something pluck at his sleeve as the third BMD in the line had circled back, its coax PKT firing wildly as the vehicle bounced along the rough ground in between the hard-packed track and the embankment. He froze. In his head, it was all over. They had the enemy to their right and airborne armour to their left. He plucked a grenade from his webbing and was about to throw it when the BMD lifted at least two metres off the ground, the front dipping, the back flipping over, then skidding to a halt less than ten metres from their position. The ASU-85 fired at a target Sergeant Mason couldn’t see, but it too erupted in a blaze, some of its crew screaming as they tried to escape the flames that were rapidly devouring them. A West German Marder, its distinctive zigzag pattern side-skirts, rocked to a halt in front of the stricken BMD destroyed earlier, its 20mm cannon pumping round after round towards the now retreating enemy. A second Marder moved along the track until level with the tunnel head, and six soldiers, sitting back to back in the troop compartment at the rear, dismounted. They were joined by a third, and Mason could see a Leopard 2, a Bundeswehr main battle tank, further back.
A Bundeswehr soldier, an Oberleutnant, a senior lieutenant, came running over to him at a crouch. “Where is your officer?”
“Dead, sir,” yelled Mason as he peeled off his mask, his voice almost drowned out as a Marder fired a burst from its auto cannon.
“You get your men away. Now. You have fünf Minuten. Then we go.”
“Have you seen the rest of my platoon?”
“There are some men back by the treeline to the rear. You have two vehicles. The enemy destroyed two. Now go.”
With that, the German officer went to rejoin his men who were in a pitch battle with the Soviet troops. Mason called to the soldiers around him and led them west along the embankment. Once they could see the clearing and the two surviving Saxons, he took them west and rejoined the battered remains of the platoon. Before he did a check on the status of his surviving unit, he got onto HQ.
“Zero-Delta, this is Delta-Three-Zero-Alpha. Over.”
“This is Zero-Delta. Good to hear from you. No time for a sitrep. Move your platoon immediately. Get them to Purple-One. Acknowledge. Over.”
“Delta-Three-Zero-Alpha. Delta-Three to move to Purple-One. Over.”
“Where is Delta-Three-Zero?”
“Down, sir.”
“Roger. Move now. Out.”
Chapter 11
“I want your platoon on the eastern edge of the quarry.” Major Dawson said, referring to the track that led to a large quarry that ran along the southern side of the E8 Autobahn, four kilometres northeast of Rinteln. “That way, you can cover a full 180-degree front. Two-Platoon will straddle the road north of you so; with you on the high ground, you can give them some cover. It’s not high, but at 200 metres, you’ll get a good view of any enemy approaching.”
“Are we getting any mines, sir?” asked Lieutenant Gibson, commander of One-Platoon. “We need something to slow them down.”
“Yes. Well, very soon anyway. There’s a detachment of engineers joining us. You’ll have Three-Platoon to your south. They’ll cover your right flank.”
“And the rest of the battalion, sir?”
The major turned and pointed. “Two-Company will cover from Bad Eilsen in the north to the forested high ground over there,” he replied, indicating the high ground of Wesergebirge. “Three-Company are in reserve, covering our backs. Four-Company have been assigned as part of the Brigade reserve.”
Gibson looked towards the tracks that ran up to the top and skirted the quarry and asked, “Do you think these will these make it, sir?” He pointed at the Saxon armoured personnel carriers. “It looks pretty rough, maybe better suited to tracked vehicles.”
Major Dawson followed Gibson’s gaze. “You should make it. Just ensure you stick to the tracks. If you get bogged down, there’ll be no one to get you out.”
Gibson laughed. “Added incentive then, sir.”
“I doubt there’s much cover up there, Michael, so make sure your men dig in well. We have to have a presence up there. When you extract, you need to move quickly.” The major ran his finger along the map that was secured in a canvas case with a clear plastic front. “Looking at this, the southern slope of the quarry is out of the question. It’s too steep to get the vehicles down. It’s the same for the northern slope. You could get your platoon down, but without your vehicles. Anyway, that could take you straight into the arms of the Soviets. They’ll more than likely use the road as their main axis of attack. So, you have to race back across the top, back along the route you’ll use to get into position.”
“We’ll be pretty exposed to any air attack, sir.”
“That’s why speed is of the essence.”
“Our RV?”
“We have to avoid Rinteln. So keep between the northern edge of the Autobahn and the high ground to the south. Three-Company will cover our withdrawal and our RV is Todenmann. That’s where we’ll have set up all over again. Oh, nearly forgot, you’ll be joined by a section from the anti-tank platoon, with two Milan FPs.”