looking for signs of the enemy. When the BMP commander was ready, he signed Kurpov, who then moved out again. Though the process was slow, it was the safest and most thorough.
Because he wanted to find the enemy rear, Kurpov initially moved south.
He knew that the enemy was immediately to the west. That piece of information had cost the recon company one of its last two platoons.
Only Kurpov's platoon was left of the original company. Kurpov intended to be a live veteran after the war. He reasoned that the Soviet Union already had more than enough heroes. Besides, a dead recon leader provides his unit with no information, other than where not to go.
Only when he was satisfied that they had gone south far enough did Kurpov turn west. He would proceed west for about two kilometers and then turn north. When he did that, he intended to go even slower.
Following Kurpov's platoon was a motorized rifle company. They would strike once the rear had been found and plotted by the recon element.
Success or failure now hinged on which commander had made the best guess and who found whom first.
Hewett's mind was still wandering about the slopes of Vermont when the faint image of two dust clouds first appeared in his sight. By the time he jerked his mind back to the present, the two BRDMs had stopped in concealed defilade positions. The dust kicked up and heated by the engines' exhaust was dissipated when Hewett made his next sweep of his assigned area.
Kurpov studied the far slope as he waited for the BMP to move into its next position. He wanted to cut north, but did not like the idea of running across the open area that stretched from his position to the next covered position. The BMP would have difficulty covering them all the way. Kurpov was still mulling over the alternatives when the BMP signaled that he was set and ready to cover.
Kurpov was about to move out and continue to the west when the battalion radio net came alive with contact reports. The two main bodies had collided. The battle was on. Kurpov no longer had all the time in the world to sneak about and find the safest, most secured route. He had to find the enemy rear quickly and guide the rifle company following him to a position from which it could launch a surprise attack. The red flashes to the north and the faint boom of tank cannons in the distance galvanized Kurpov into action. He ordered his driver to move out 298 and to the right. They would try to bound across the open as rapidly as possible. Luck favors the bold, Kurpov told himself.
The sound of tanks firing and explosions broke into Hewett's dreams of home. He turned around and looked to the north for a moment. He could see the sky suddenly glow as a weapon fired. Here and there a fireball leaped up, announcing the death of an armored vehicle and its crew.
That thought convinced Hewett that rear guard wasn't so bad after all.
He turned around, hoisted the Dragon back onto his shoulder and put his eye to the sight. In an instant, the image of two armored vehicles burned itself into his eye.
Hewett felt himself go cold. His heart began to beat faster. He could almost feel the adrenaline course through his veins. The enemy.
In a voice that was neither a whisper nor a shout, he alerted his squad leader. In an instant he, followed by the platoon leader, came stumbling up to where Hewett sat transfixed, tracking the progress of the enemy vehicles.
The platoon leader spoke first. 'What do you have, Marine?'
'Two vehicles. Looks like BRDMs, Skipper, headed straight for us at about twelve hundred meters.'
Reaching for the Dragon, the lieutenant whispered, 'Let me see.' Hewett relinquished control of the Dragon to him. The lieutenant needed only a second. When he had convinced himself, he turned it back over to Hewett, issuing orders to the squad leader as he did so. 'Kendle, find Gunney. Have him report to the CO that we have two BRDMs moving on our position from the south. We are engaging and will hold here until we receive further orders.'
Turning to Hewett, 'Marine, you take out the one on the right. Fire when he gets to five hundred meters. I'll get Thompson to take out the other. Be prepared to get the second one if Thompson misses.'
The lieutenant was gone before Hewett could say, 'Aye aye, sir.'
Turning to his assistant, Hewett told him, 'No doubt the skipper's telling Thompson to be ready to take out the other BRDM in case we miss. Well, we ain't gonna miss.'
His assistant slapped Hewett on the shoulder and acknowledged with 'Fuckin' a-men.'
Hoisting the Dragon back into position, Hewett set the sight's cross hair on the center of mass of the BRDM on the right and began to track it. His fingers lightly tapped the trigger as he waited for the enemy vehicle to reach the designated range.
They were at the halfway point. Kurpov stood upright in his hatch and looked to his right. The other BRDM was having difficulty keeping up with him. Turning to the front, he could see no sign of activity on the slope that they were fast approaching. There were only six hundred meters to go.
Three minutes. Time seemed to stand still. It was taking so long to get there. These things always seemed to take forever.
The image of the BRDM, growing by the second, seemed to fill Hewett's sight. He no longer concerned himself with the one to the left. It was falling behind and not his concern. At that moment, his entire life, his whole being, centered around the image of the enemy vehicle bearing down on him. Time swept by. Any second now. Hewett began to control his breathing, taking in a full breath, letting it out, taking another. He watched the BRDM, he timed his breath, he waited until he felt he could wait no more.
At that instant he drew in one final breath, held it, then squeezed the trigger.
Although he was looking right at it when it fired, Kurpov did not immediately recognize the antitank guided missile for what it was. For the briefest of moments, he stared at the bright-orange orb closing on him.
'Missile, missile, missile! Driver, hard right!' The order surprised the driver, but he responded with a violent jerk to the left. The maneuver threw Kurpov off balance and sent him sprawling onto the floor of the BRDM.
Hewett held his breath and kept the sight glued to the BRDM. Five seconds, that was all it would take the missile to fly five hundred meters. Three seconds were gone, two to go. Hewett had almost anticipated the sharp turn. With ease he followed the BRDM as it now exposed its flank to him. Hewett gripped the launcher tightly, his eye pressed to the sight, and held his breath until the bright glow of the high-explosive warhead on the side of the BRDM lit up his sight.
Kurpov was lying on the floor, looking up and struggling to grab on to something when the missile slammed into the side of the BRDM. The dark interior was suddenly lit up by a blinding flash of light. The shaped-charge warhead had detonated on the side of the BRDM and formed a jet stream of molten metal that bored its way through the vehicle's thin armor. As the jet stream pushed through, it added the BRDM's armor that lay in its path, now liquefied and white hot, to the stream.
In horror Kurpov saw the stream cut through the gunner. The man's shrieks were cut short by the explosion of onboard ammunition. Blinded by the light, unable to move or avoid the jet stream, Kurpov felt himself being ripped by fragments and peppered by molten clumps of metal tossed aside as the jet stream dissipated. He screamed as his brain was overwhelmed with pain. He was unconscious when the final cataclysmic explosion tore the BRDM apart.
Hewett didn't need to watch the death of the BRDM. The initial impact told him he had scored a square hit. The BRDM wasn't going anywhere anymore.
Instead of watching, he turned to the task of taking his sight from the expended Dragon tube and fitting it to the new round held by the assistant gunner. They had just about completed their drill when the sky was lit up by the explosion of the second BRDM. Thompson had also scored.
Hewett finished what he was doing and looked back at the BRDM he had hit.
It was now totally involved in flames. Fuel dripped from a ruptured tank, forming a flaming little pond that spread as he watched. For a moment, he considered the crew. That thought, however, was interrupted by the sharp report of a 30mm. gun. In the distance, at a point from which the two BRDMs had 301 come, an automatic cannon was firing. Hewett, seeing that the firing was wild, put his sight up to his eye and began to search for the new enemy.
The battle had just been joined. It would be a long and bloody night as two antagonists, each many miles from home, tore at each other in a battle that would, at best, someday be referred to as a sideshow.
