me that we can expect only light opposition from isolated enemy rear guard forces. The rest of the fascists are running back down the highway as fast as they can.”
Chae had his own doubts about the major’s intelligence reports, but he remained silent. The Main Political Administration’s agents had unpleasant ways of dealing with officers suspected of defeatism or insufficient ardor.
“What about tank support, sir?”
The major waved his question aside. “The tanks are being sent further west, where the ground is more suitable for their use. We won’t need them. This will be infantry work only, Chae. We’ll rout the enemy out with the point of the bayonet!”
“Yes, Comrade Major.” Chae was careful not to let any expression show on his face. “I’ll get back to my troops, then.”
“Indeed, Captain.” The major’s tone grew colder. Perhaps he’d sensed Chae’s lack of enthusiasm for his leadership. “I’ll expect your column to be underway within twenty minutes.”
Chae saluted and headed back to his company’s bivouac inside the still-smoldering ruins of Uiwang. He shivered in the wind and grimaced. At least he and his troops would have a brisk six-kilometer march to warm themselves with before going into the attack. The People’s Army’s trucks were too valuable to risk to enemy fire.
They were as ready as it was humanly possible to be. Or so he hoped, Kevin Little admitted to himself. Anyway, there wasn’t time to do any more work preparing the position. He checked the magazine on his M16. It was full, but he only had six more in the pouch attached to his combat webbing. He patted the ammo pouch to make sure it was still there and for the thousandth time, he silently cursed the fouled-up supply situation. Where the hell were all those planeloads of ammo and other gear that the scuttlebutt said were landing every few minutes from the States?
Seven magazines wouldn’t last long in the kind of firefight they’d soon be facing.
A two-man OP sited along the treeline to the north had reported several infantry columns marching south toward them. And Battalion had passed along similar reports from the other companies holding this part of the line. There wasn’t much doubt about it. They were going to get hit.
Kevin trudged wearily through the ankle-deep snow, just putting one foot in front of the other — taking stock of his company’s situation for one last time. He’d had his troops dig in just behind the crestline of the small, tree- covered hill they’d been ordered to hold. The hill itself would block the line of sight for any North Korean observers and force the NK commander to commit his own forces without much idea about where the company’s main strong points were.
Not that there were many of those. Major Donaldson had scraped together a few more replacements for him, but he still had less than sixty men left to hold a position more suitable for a full-strength rifle company with attachments. As it was, he’d been forced to put everyone up on the line just to avoid leaving gaping holes in his defense. The idea of fighting without having some kind of reserve left Kevin feeling cold. It reminded him too much of the fiasco on Malibu West. That had been one of his mistakes up there, too.
He shook off the thought. This wasn’t the time or place. Maybe later. Maybe after the war, always assuming he lived that long.
His 1st and 2nd Platoon leaders — Corporal McIntyre and Sergeant Geary — just nodded when he stopped by their foxholes to go over the battle plan. They looked haggard, dog-tired and hollow-eyed. But then, hell, so did everyone else in the company. Five days and four nights out in the open under extreme stress and in arctic temperatures had pushed the troops to the edge of their endurance. Many were coming down with bronchitis, severe chest colds, or pneumonia. Kevin knew that, by rights, fully a third of his men should have been in the hospital for treatment. The trouble was, he couldn’t spare them — any more than he could spare himself.
He kept going, half-walking, half-sliding downhill through the snow toward the weakest point in his line — a brush-choked ravine that cut between the hill held by his company and the one occupied by Matuchek’s Alpha Company. A frozen, narrow stream turned and twisted its way south at the bottom of the ravine, and the tangle of small trees, shrubs, and tall grass its waters had fed made movement difficult and observation next to impossible. It was the perfect place for a North Korean infiltration through his position.
Knowing that and knowing what exactly to do about it were two very different things, but Kevin had done his best. He’d scraped together a blocking force by stripping the 2nd Platoon of a machine gun team and four precious riflemen. These six men now held positions along either edge of the ravine, ready to pour a vicious crossfire into any NK troops moving up through the dense underbrush.
He’d done more. He’d had the blocking force emplace no fewer than six claymore mines along the gully — ready to shred the vegetation and anyone in it with a total of 3,600 plastic-explosive-driven steel balls. It would be enough to give the first North Korean attack down the ravine a very bloody nose indeed. It wouldn’t be enough if there were a second or third assault.
Well, he’d have to worry about that later. Kevin moved back up the slope toward the two-man foxhole that served as his CP. Montoya was already there, helmet pulled low over a green scarf wrapped around to cover his ears. The RTO just shook his head when Kevin asked if there were any new orders from Battalion.
“What about Rhee? Any word on him?”
“Not a peep, L-T. Maybe he’s wangled himself a cushy staff job.”
Kevin grinned at Montoya’s stab at humor, but he didn’t really find it too funny. Rhee had been summoned earlier in the morning to the temporary Brigade HQ at Yongju-sa — Dragon Jewel Temple — a Buddhist temple complex several miles south of Suwon. The orders hadn’t explained why and they hadn’t given Kevin any indication of when he could expect Rhee back. Goddamned rear-area dips, Kevin thought savagely. They probably wanted the Korean lieutenant to fill out some pointless requisition. And now he was short his second-in-command just before going into battle.
He felt uneasy at the prospect. This would be the first time he’d gone into action without Rhee at his side, and Kevin knew how much he’d come to rely on the South Korean’s calm, good humor and guts. Damn it.
“L-T. Hey, L-T.” Montoya laid a gloved hand on his shoulder. “The OP’s coming in.”
He took the handset. “Echo Five Six to Echo Eyes. Give me a sitrep. Over.”
“Echo Five Six, this is Eyes.” Kevin could hear the man panting into his mike as he and the other sentry jogged back to the company. “We’re coming in. First November Kilos are just about four hundred meters from our position. Strength estimated at one, repeat, one battalion. No tanks or PCs.”
“Acknowledged. Five Six out.” Kevin handed the mike back to Montoya. “Pass the word to all posts that we’ve got bad guys on the way with friendlies in front of ’em. Tell everybody to hold their fire until I give the word.”
Kevin wriggled out of the foxhole and bellycrawled up to the crestline of the hill. Forty-year-old pines, oaks, and willow trees blocked much of his view, but he could see well enough to realize that the North Korean shells were tearing up the whole northern edge of the forest. He almost smiled. Major Donaldson had been right. Trying to defend from there would have been tantamount to committing suicide. It was too bloody obvious a target for enemy artillery.
He slid back down to the CP and started issuing orders to his platoon leaders. Once the NK heavy guns were done shooting up the forest, their infantry would be coming through the fallen and splintered trees — straight toward his positions. The North Koreans would have scouts out in front, and Kevin wanted to make sure they got a warm reception. He had McIntyre and Geary deploy a fire team each along the crest, ready to hose down the first NKs to show themselves on the ground below the hill.
That done, he settled back inside his foxhole to wait. There wasn’t anything else he could do.
Chae scrambled over a massive tree trunk blown down by the artillery barrage and waited for the rest of his headquarters group to catch up. The three infantry platoons of his company were already a hundred meters ahead, pushing deeper into the forest. Everything was quiet, except for the crackle of a dozen small fires set by bursting shells, and Chae didn’t like it.
