“You heard my order, Comms Officer,” General Brooks barked. “Now do it.”
“Roger that.”
A second later came the echoing boom from a detonation as the Cecil Bridge blew up. Then the staggered sound of the howitzers from Owens Ridge as they fired their 155mm shells.
“The bridge is gone, sir,” York said. “Three tanks and one fighting vehicle destroyed. But we’ve still got two tanks on our side of the river causing havoc—”
Then the sound of deafening explosions as the artillery shells rained down.
Silence for a moment and John’s heart leapt into his throat.
Then York’s voice again. “Enemy tanks on this side of the river destroyed, but that might have been too close a shave. Please adjust your fire. We may have friendly casualties.”
John prayed that wasn’t the case. Tension gripped his entire body.
“The enemy column on the western side of the river is backing away,” York reported. “We’re now blowing the southern IEDs.” An explosion sounded. “Three more down. The remaining five Chinese ZBD-08s appear to be tucking tail and running.”
“Great job, Lieutenant,” General Brooks said. “Looks like we got ’em on the run.”
Rodriguez’s radio crackled a moment later with a report from the spotter along Highway 27. “Overmountain, this is Dragonfly. I’m seeing what looks like a full armored brigade heading your way and these boys sure are in a hurry.”
They quickly passed the information along to York, who told them he was sending the wounded back to Oneida via medically designated pickup trucks.
“Shouldn’t we reinforce the area?” John asked. “I mean, an entire armored brigade is heading toward them.”
“With the bridge blown?” General Brooks replied, still euphoric from repelling the attack. “The minute they get within distance, we’ll give ’em another taste of our 155s.”
Yeah, John thought. That’s what I’m afraid of.
Chapter 44
John asked Henry for his mic. “Those tanks should be coming within view. What’s your status, Lieutenant York?”
“I can hear ’em loud and clear, rumbling around the curve, but I don’t see ’em. Almost sounds like they turned off Highway 27.”
General Brooks and John exchanged a troubled look.
“Keep us posted,” John said and gave the mic back to Henry. He jogged over to the conference room to study one of the local maps laid out across the table. His finger traced a line along Highway 27 until it reached the bridge and that was when he saw what the Chinese were doing. He raced into the radio room and got back on the radio. “York, this is John. There’s a road that runs parallel to the highway named Sycamore Lane. It leads right up to the river’s edge.”
“It’s possible,” York replied. “But we can’t see around the bend where you say they turned off.”
“It’s only a theory, but you need to reposition your anti-tank troops right away. I think they’re going to use the side road to ford the river and come up on top of you.”
“What are you doing?” General Brooks demanded, sounding incensed that John was issuing orders without his consent.
York paused for a second before ordering two companies to move out.
“The bridge is blown,” John replied. “So the Chinese are doing exactly what we would under the circumstances. Looking for another way across.”
“Hold your positions,” York shouted over the radio. “Watch our right flank.”
“York, what’s going on?” John called out. “Lieutenant York?”
Through the frantic sound of intense gunfire, York said, “They’re coming up through the river just like you said and there’s too many of ’em to stop. I managed to move a few companies over there, but the reactive armor on those Type 99s is giving our AT-4s a run for their money.”
A slab of high explosive commonly attached to the body of military vehicles, reactive armor was designed to detonate on impact in order to neutralize the incoming projectile.
“We need to call in another artillery strike,” General Brooks exclaimed. “Pepper the whole darn area.”
“Are you crazy?” John shouted back. “The enemy’s right on top of them. You’re gonna hit our own men.”
“But we’ll also take out those tanks. Listen, we do nothing and the next thing we know they’ll be in Oneida,” General Brooks shot back, breathing heavily.
“York,” John called into the mic. “Tell your men to retreat into the woods and work their way back to town.” Time ticked by without a response. “Lieutenant York, are you there?”
Then another voice came on. One John didn’t recognize. “York is dead, sir, and most of the men are running for their lives.”
The next strong point was about a mile further north on a straight stretch of Highway 27 overlooked by a small hill. The line of sight was superb. It was a shame they didn’t have more armor of their own they could spare. A handful of M1A2s on that rise would have made a great difference. As it was, the soldiers were dug in once again in foxholes and armed with light and heavy machine guns along with AT-4s.
“The armor on the front of those tanks is too strong,” John was telling General Brooks, although it certainly wasn’t anything the career soldier didn’t already know.
“What are you suggesting then? That we let them roll by and aim for the tracks or engine compartments in the rear?”
“The minute we do, those IFVs are likely to engage and wipe out any resistance.”
“The problem is the terrain is too open,” General Brooks said and John had to agree. “Our only hope is that the IEDs and artillery will whittle them down.”
Soon the second strong point reported spotting a long column of enemy armor heading their way.
“That’s the last line of defense before they hit Oneida,” Brooks said morosely. “This time we gotta throw everything we have against them, no matter the consequences.” He got on the radio and told them to coordinate fire with the men on the front lines. Now, all John and the others could do was sit back helplessly and listen.
“Send three M1A2s over to the western edge of town,” Brooks ordered. “Whatever breaks through needs to be engaged and killed before it gets a foothold in the city.”
A few tense moments passed before the call came for artillery support from on top of Owens Ridge. The play-by-play from the front lines painted a grim and desperate picture. The first volley destroyed three Type 99s and two ZBD-08s. Right after that, soldiers from the remaining IFVs disembarked and moved to engage the defending foxholes from the flanks. Now the Americans were in a crossfire between the armor on the highway and the troops coming at them from both sides. All the while, artillery shells were pouring into the area, drawing ever closer to friendly forces.
There was a look of determination on General Brooks’ face. It didn’t seem to matter how many of their own men they needed to sacrifice in order to halt the Chinese attack. These men were pawns to him and perhaps that was one of the big differences between the top brass and the grunts who got their hands dirty.
The sound of men shouting orders while the wounded shrieked in the background was hard for John to listen to. The final report came through that the American forces at the second strong point were pinned down and no longer able to put up an effective defense. Additional detonations were heard as the IEDs along Highway 27 went off, signalling that the Chinese forces were advancing again.
Before long, they came within visual range of Oneida and all at once the town opened up on them. Both Javelins along with three M1A2 tanks and a handful of Bradleys firing Hellfire missiles pounded the Chinese armor. The first two tanks exploded in a violent plume. The artillery from Owens Ridge joined in, wreaking more havoc on the enemy’s lines. Running through both layers of the town’s defenses had greatly reduced their numbers and now this final punishment proved too great. With the lead vehicles destroyed, those that followed faced the dangerous choice of remaining exposed to American fire as they struggled to maneuver around burned and flaming hulks, or living to fight another day.