Pat Reed cut the signaller off in mid-sentence.
“When CSM Hornsby was Lance Sarn’t Hornsby he knew what a TOT shoot was.” The commanding officer snapped. “Tell him to do as he was damn well briefed to do or he’ll be a full screw once more!”
Those who heard the exchange paused to glance at one another at the out of character show of temper.
“Ask Stephanski and Gaddom how far they are from the sunken lane?” Pat demanded, leaning forwards with both sets of knuckles, clad in rubber NBC gloves, bearing his weight on the map table.
The artillery rep had heard the snipers reporting infantry unprotected by their fighting vehicles and addressed the CO.
“Sir, with regard to the infantry now being in the open, perhaps we should amend the fire plan to include airburst instead of super-quick fusing?”
“The fusing is fine as is.” Pat responded, without looking up.
“But sir….”
“You let me worry about fighting this battle young Captain, and you concern yourself with making sure your gunners hit what we tell them, understood?”
Having been put firmly in his place, the artilleryman was turning to return to the RA’s corner of the CP when Pat spoke again.
“The lead battalion of tanks is of more concern to me right now but the mortars are wasted on heavy armour so switch them to the second echelon.”
“Yes sir.” He turned to go again.
“Oh and Captain.”
“Sir?”
“Mix WP with the mortar fire mission.” Pat instructed.
The artillery rep was well aware that the rules of war forbade the use of white phosphorus as a weapon against infantry, but they forbade the use of VX also, did they not?
“Yes Colonel, right away.”
Bill watched the battalion of armour come on, untroubled by so much as a stray round, despite the slower than normal speed.
They had killed a lot of this regiment the previous day, but now they were back, reinforced with armour if not troops. Instead of three infantry battalions and one tank battalion, 23rd now consisted of two infantry and two tank battalions, albeit it all were below strength they still outnumbered the battalion of British Guards and US Paratroopers who they considered the weak link.
Fifty seven armoured vehicles, AAA tracks, self-propelled anti-tank guided weapons launchers and of course main battle tanks along with its remaining infantry. The 23rd Motor Rifle Regiment was driving towards less than five hundred guardsmen, paratroopers and a half dozen tanks.
They had been 1CG’s first opponents in this war, months previously, on the hill above the Wesernitz river.
Barely more than a hundred guardsmen who had been on that particular hillside remained with the battalion now. Half of the original battalion had died on the Wesernitz in that first battle. Lt Col Huppert-Lowe, the then CO, and his rover group had perished in the flames of napalm hell as he attempted to restore command and control with 1 Company. The battalion CP had been destroyed soon afterwards by a random, lone 240mm mortar round. All communications and coordination had been lost and just two rifle companies, with part of Support Company, had fought their way out. The remainder, both the prisoners and wounded, the 23rd had bayoneted or shot.
Certain elements of the media, none of whom had been present, had shamelessly capitalised on the battle in order to sell copies. A photograph of the battalion on ceremonial duties, the red plumes in their bearskins photo-shopped into yellow, had adorned the front page below the headline ‘They Ran!’ The stain on their honour had remained with them, bolstered of late by the Defence Minister as it suited the needs of her own agenda.
Few survivors of the Wesernitz were watching now, the remainder huddled in their water-logged shelter bays as their positions were pummelled by artillery and mortar fire.
The Soviet artillery west of the Elbe had received only a limited resupply via helicopter, a trickle in comparison to their needs and it had been husbanded on the orders of General Borodovsky, the Front Commander. It was stockpiled in case 77th Tank and 32nd MRD could not reopen the logistical supply lines before the US and Canadians of 4 Corps arrived. But in the last hour had come word that Borodovsky had been replaced, as had all the leadership at High Command apparently. Every effort must now be made to overturn this final obstacle NATO had placed in their path, and drive to the coast. 4 Corps could be brushed aside before it could transition into a defensive posture. Success, not excuses, was all that the High Command wanted. Everyone was expendable.
Within the lane the remains of that first attack had new additions lying on top and here and there it was possible to use the burnt out fighting machines as a bridge, otherwise the armour had to negotiate the lanes steep sides.
“That’s fifty metres, as near as dammit.” Bill observed.
“Wait until they crowd up.” Stef grunted, his voice muffled by the respirator.
The previous day had seen carnage along this section of the lane during the very first attack by the Red Army upon the Vormundberg hillside. Pat Reed had called in smoke, not HE, blinding the lead ranks which had driven full pelt through the hedgerow bordering the sunken lane. No anti-tank ditch could have worked so well.
The tanks now slowed.
British Army Air Corps Apache attack helicopters and Danish Lynx singled out the Zeus and Gaskin anti-aircraft vehicles for attention.
Pat Reed listened to Lance Sergeant Stephanski confirm the lead tank battalion was bunching up before the sunken lane.
He gave the order to open fire himself, raising the microphone.
“All stations address group Hotel Zulu…start killing those bastards.”
The 105s fired first, followed by the battalion’s mortars. The Milan, TOW and Hellfire missiles came next, and finally the 120mm rifled L11A5 and L30 guns of the Challengers and Chieftain 10s.
In the ideal Timed on Target world, each shell, each missile, each round would arrive at once, but it was close enough that they arrived within a two second time span.
Mark Venables had the commander’s tank of the left hand company dead to rights and the Challenger II rocked backwards on its sprockets when he fired. It was a killing hit and he released his override, allowing his gunner to fight the tank whilst he fought what remained of his squadron.
The 105s had sowed confusion as well as knocking out one T-72 and shearing the tracks of two others. Milan rounds had killed two more, as had his own squadron’s tank guns. Zeus and Gaskin vehicles burned. It was a good start but the friendly artillery had fallen silent as the gunners relocated hurriedly.
Further to the rear the shrapnel from bursting mortar rounds had swept a couple of tanks clear of their passengers and others had leapt off, rolling in the mud in an attempt extinguish the white phosphorus that had fallen upon them. In the darkness and poor visibility a few tanks ran over contorting figures in their path.
Looking right he located the second command tank, it was stopped with smoke issuing from its open hatches, the crew bailing out. He looked again, seeing that not quite all the crew had abandoned the vehicle. The company commander was knelt at his open hatch and operating a fire extinguisher on the smouldering bags of propellant inside. He seemed to be making headway as the smoke was lessening. Without warning he collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut he toppled headlong through the open hatch. The battalion’s snipers were busy about their deadly trade, and earning their rations.
The third command tank was stationary and burning fiercely despite the rain.