“Why haven’t we crashed out sooner then, sir?” asked Corporal Simpson.
“I don’t think there’s a straight answer to that, Corporal. The Soviets have been running these exercises for years. Nothing has happened as a consequence so far.”
“We’ve become complacent is what you’re saying then, sir,” suggested Andrews.
“That may be the case, but we are where we are. There’s no point in us bleating about it now. Our command on arrival at Gronau will be Combat Team Bravo, our squadron headquarters; our battlegroup headquarters will be our own 14th/20th. We’ll be leading the squadron and will be joined by a 438 detachment and an infantry platoon from the Royal Green Jackets. We move out in fifteen minutes, so wind up and let’s get this show on the road.”
Sergeant Andrews suddenly called out. “Shun.”
They slipped off the side of their tanks, brought their arms to their sides and stood to attention as their officer commanding, Major Lewis, joined the group. As the commander of Two-Squadron, he would be leading his fourteen Chieftain tanks and their respective crews into combat, should it come to that. But his responsibilities would be increased once his command became a combat team. In command of a combined arms unit, an armour-heavy subdivision of the 14th/20th battlegroup with infantry, and a guided weapons unit attached, his responsibility was considerable.
“At ease.”
The major was short in stature, but his five-foot-seven height belied the seasoned soldier that had earned the respect of his men, particularly during their arduous tours of Northern Ireland. Like Lieutenant Wesley-Jones, he preferred to lead his unit from the front, getting to know the real men behind the faces, knowing their strengths and weaknesses: working on the weaknesses to make them better soldiers and men, and making use of their strengths to ensure his squadron was in the best in the regiment. You could only do that working alongside your men.
“Stand-easy, gentlemen.”
The men relaxed, leaning against the cold slab sides of their tanks as they waited to hear what he had to say.
“As I have just heard your troop commander telling you, you will be moving out in under fifteen minutes, so I shall make this brief so you can get on the move. I’m sure you are all wondering what is going to emerge over these coming days, weeks. You are not on your own in that respect, I can assure you. I have been authorised to tell you that peace talks have taken a turn for the worse.”
There was silence amongst the men as they looked at each other. Although there was an element of excitement at being crashed-out for real, with perhaps the opportunity to put into practice everything they had learnt and trained for over the last few years, fear was slowly starting to creep in.
“It is evident that Soviet and Warsaw Pact forces are gathering along the Inner German Border and deploying into assembly areas. Although talks continue, I have my own personal doubts that they will come to anything. The Warsaw Pact is mobilising, as are we. Although our Government, along with the governments of our NATO Allies, has asked the Soviets to cease their manoeuvres until talks are concluded, the Kremlin have declined, declaring that we should withdraw our forces and return to barracks. Naturally we would be foolish to comply with that request. So, men, this is not an exercise; it is for real. Just apply the skills and expertise you have acquired during your training and practices, and we will come through this. There will be casualties. I can’t promise survival. But, if we work as the close-knit unit we are, we will give a good account of ourselves and come through the other side.”
He waited a moment and looked over the assembled men. Some he knew well, others not so well, but he was confident they wouldn’t let him or the regiment down.
“Just carry out your duties as you have always done; then we will do our bit to ensure the security of this country and, as a consequence, the security of our own country. 4th Armoured Division is already moving into position, and by now reconnaissance units from 1 Br Corps will be in position watching likely border crossing points. 4th Armoured will take up a defensive position right across our front acting as a covering force giving us, and 3rd Armoured Division, the opportunity to deploy and dig in along our designated stop line. Our northern boundary will be south of Hanover and our southern boundary Einbeck, with 3rd Armoured Division to our south. The regiment will become a battlegroup headquarters, designated 14th/20th BG and will have mechanised infantry units from the Royal Green Jackets attached. Those RGJ units will come under our command. We have been designated Combat Team Bravo and will have a platoon of infantry and 438 swingfire assigned to us. As a consequence, we will lose delta troop who will be attached to the RGJ battlegroup. We will deploy along the western bank of the River Leine to the west of Gronau, although some elements will be across the river, dug in on the outskirts of the town itself. Your troop commander has the coordinates and you are to start the move to your initial assembly area.” He looked at his watch. “In the next ten minutes. A Land Rover from the admin troop will lead with an FV434 from the LAD at the rear of the packet. There will be no flashing lights or a blue-light escort. You are on your own. We are effectively operating under wartime conditions. Don’t push the march too hard, but I want you off the road before first light. The rest of the squadron will be thirty minutes behind you, and the rest of the regiment fifteen minutes later. Any questions? Yes, Sergeant Andrews?”
“Sir. We have full ammo bins and our fuel tanks have been topped up, but will resupply be close by once we get to our destination?”
“Yes, they will. There will be two Foden fuel tankers to meet you there. Twenty-four thousand litres will be more than enough to top up your tanks along with the rest of your packet. They will also refuel the rest of the squadron on arrival.”
“Who will be our RGJ contact on arrival, sir?” Asked Wesley-Jones. “And do we deploy immediately?”
“Lieutenant Stewart will meet you on your arrival. It is still to be confirmed, but he may be bringing one or two Milan firing posts with him. We will also be joined by some engineers, along with arty and air-observers at some stage, so keep your eyes peeled for them. The engineers will be laying bar mines on the approaches to Gronau, your final deployment area, so we will be expected to provide them with some cover.”
“Understood. We’d better be going, sir, if we are to remain on schedule.”
“Good point, Lieutenant. Get your troop moving.”
“Shun,” called Andrews again.
“Stand easy. And good luck. I’ll see you down south in the morning.”
The OC left and the troop dispersed to their respective armoured vehicles. Within minutes, the three drivers were revving the engines of their tanks, and they lumbered out of the sheds, one by one, and turned and moved down the central aisle to give the next one the room to swivel around on its tracks. Now lined up on the road leading out of the camp, a FV434, an armoured repair vehicle, last in line, a long wheel-based Land Rover upfront. Inbetween, Two-One-Bravo the lead tank, Two-Two-Bravo the last Chieftain in the line-up, with Corporal Simpson and Two-Three-Bravo in the middle.
Wesley-Jones gave Mackey the signal and the Chieftain started forward, the steady squeal of the tracks joined by noise from the remaining tanks as the packet started to move forward, rattling over the toughened concrete surface. The Land Rover drove down the centre corridor between the sheds, out through the barracks and onto the main road, the tanks pulling out onto the road behind it, the troop commander and Mackey peering ahead looking for the single convoy light reflecting off the white diff cover of the Land Rover as it led the way.