frequency, since the primary was jammed.
That done, he switched to the brigade-command frequency and contacted the battalion XO at the battalion TOC. He told him that the primary battalion frequency was being jammed, that Team Delta appeared to have been overrun and the Soviets were coming through. The XO told Dixon that he would have the TOC get everyone on the alternate frequency as soon as possible.
One at a time the units reported in, all except for Team Delta and the battalion commander. As soon as the battalion XO was on the net, Dixon had all units report their status. Neither team in the west with Dixon had been hit. At the last minute both Soviet battalions had gone into the eastern side of the W. Odds were that Team Delta had been overrun.
Referring to his map that showed the graphics depicting the battalion's battle plan, Dixon recommended that both Alpha and Charlie counterattack from the west into the Soviets' flank while Team Bravo held in place. In the meantime, the XO at the TOC should get everything he could from Brigade to hit the Soviet forces that had broken through. With little time to think and no time to discuss the matter, the XO ordered Dixon to lead the counterattack. The XO would do his best to get everything Brigade would shake loose.
While the XO was coordinating for air strikes and attack helicopters on the brigade-command net, Dixon issued his orders over the battalion-command net. They would attack to the east, with both teams forming a wedge. Team Charlie would be in the north and Team Alpha in the south. Dixon would position himself in the center. When formed, the two companies would drive south of Team Bravo's positions and head for Team Delta's old positions.
Once there, the two attacking teams would swing to face the north and the follow-on Soviet forces. Someone else would have to take care of the Soviet forces that had already broken through.
Dixon ordered his driver to back out of the position and waited until Team Alpha began to move past, then ordered the driver to follow the company commander's tank. As they moved into the valley, Dixon monitored Team Bravo's reports to the battalion TOC. One at a time Team Bravo was losing its vehicles. What effect they were having on the Soviets was not known.
Whatever it was, it was insufficient to stop their movement south. A garbled and incomplete report from the mortar-platoon leader alerted the battalion XO to the fact that that platoon was being overrun.
Attempts to regain contact with the mortar-platoon leader were cut short by the battalion forward air controller, who announced that friendly air was en route and would be on station in five minutes. The XO responded to this call, but his directions were cut short. Repeated attempts to regain contact with the XO or the TOC by Dixon and the Team Bravo commander failed. Absorbed in that effort, Dixon did not become aware until several minutes later that the counterattack was going astray.
What should have been a simple maneuver was not. As the teams moved into the valley that formed the western base of the W, they became intermingled.
Team Charlie, wanting to avoid Team Bravo, came too far south before turning east. Team Alpha, cutting straight across the valley, ran head on into Team Charlie while it was still moving south. This situation was made worse by the fact that drivers in both the M-1 and the Bradley did not have thermal sights. The smoke lingering in the low areas they drove through made navigation and maintaining position difficult.
Command and control were lost by Dixon and the team commanders. Then the quick death of the Team Alpha commander by an unknown assailant destroyed all hope of sorting that unit out. The counterattack rapidly degenerated into a cluster as tanks and Bradleys groped about in the smoke, searching for the enemy and the objective. Both were eventually found, but not in the manner that Dixon intended.
Instead of a sledgehammer hitting the Soviets in the flank, the two attacking teams collided with the enemy one or two vehicles at a time.
The only thing that prevented complete disaster for the armored battalion was the fact that the Soviets were equally confused and muddled due to the firing into their flank from Team Bravo, obstacles that had not been cleared, scatter able mine fields that had been laid down by artillery, and their own artillery- and vehicle-generated smoke.
For the next twenty minutes a series of small battles erupted between vehicles lost on the valley floor of the eastern part of the W. The clusters of tanks and Bradleys rolled on toward Team Delta's position, cutting across the path of the Soviet vehicles attempting to move south. Most engagements were therefore flanking shots. In this kind of fight, tanks had the upper hand. Their main gun could defeat anyone and everyone they ran into. Their armor could defeat at least some of the weapons being used. Whenever a Bradley bumped into a T-80 and saw it first, the Bradley commander would fire his smoke grenades and back off into the nearest hole. This, however, was not always a good idea in the swirling melee on the valley floor. In more than one case, a Bradley backing up to avoid one T-80 tank backed into the sights of another unseen T-80 or BMP. The same happened to the Soviets.
Gunners, their eyes glued to their thermal sights, were normally the first to spot a target. Screams of 'T- 80twelve o'clock!' or 'Two BMPs dead ahead!' galvanized the rest of the crew. Tank and Bradley commanders had no time to think. It was simply a question of fight or flee. Normal crew duties and fire commands fell by the wayside as target reports from the gunners were followed by either 'Driver, back up!' or Fire! 'Unable to command or control anything, and knowing hat he had no hope of doing either until he reached the positions where Delta had been, Dixon concentrated on fighting with his tank and surviving.
Maxwell, his gunner, was quick to pick up targets. 'Tank-twelve o'clock!'
In their excitement and the heat of the moment, the crew lost track of the fire commands. Hearing the target report from Maxwell, Wilard responded with Up' as he armed the gun and cleared the path of recoil.
Dixon, hanging on, yelled, 'Fire!' even though he was unable to get his eye up to the sight.
Maxwell screamed, 'On the way!' as he pulled the trigger. Firing and impact were almost simultaneous, due to the close range. Dixon, popping his head out of the open hatch at the moment Maxwell yelled,
'Target!' watched the Soviet tank they had just engaged blow apart as their tank passed it.
Maxwell's scream of 'Two BMPs — twelve o'clock!' brought him back.
Wilard, knowing that HEAT was the preferred round for BMPs, but having already loaded a Sabot round, yelled out, 'Sabot loaded!'
Since there wasn't time to unload the Sabot round, Dixon ordered, 'Fire HEAT. Load Sabot.'
Maxwell, responding without thinking, again yelled, 'On the way' and fired.
His announcement of 'Target!' was followed by the cry 'HEAT indexed' as his hand reached up and switched the ammo-select lever from the Sabot position to the HEAT position.
Wilard, following through with Dixon's last order, loaded a HEAT round and announced, 'HEAT loaded.'
Again Dixon ordered fire. Again Maxwell fired and responded, 'Target!'
Dixon reached down, caught Wilard's arm as he was loading the next HEAT round and ordered him to load Sabot. Dixon did not want to run into a Soviet tank while they had HEAT in the tube. Sabot would take anything out, no sweat. HEAT was, at best, questionable when it came to the T-80 tank.
The battle fought by Dixon and his crew was repeated time and time again in other MIs and Bradleys as they stumbled forward in the smoke toward the far ridge. Dixon could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He gasped for breath, almost hyperventilating in the effort.
The air he breathed was corrupted with the acidic smell of chemically produced smoke, burning rubber, diesel and flesh, and burnt cordite from the firing of the tanks.
Every stitch of his clothing was soaked with sweat. Questions without answers raced through Dixon's mind: How much longer can this last? How much longer can I last? Where in hell is everyone? The tank rolled on, unstopping and seemingly alone as the horror show continued.
As it climbed up onto the high ground where Team Delta's position had been, Dixon's tank came out from under the cloud of smoke-to be greeted by the sight of two BMPs off to the right. Dixon grabbed the override and began to issue a fire command, but stopped. The BMPs were not moving, just sitting there. It was obvious that they were destroyed. Letting go of the override, he turned his attention back to the direction they were moving in. Only the chance glimpse of movement through the corner of his eye alerted him to the fact that he had been wrong about the BMPs. Without further thought, he grabbed the override again and jerked it around, yelling his fire command, 'Gunner, HEAT! Two BMPs!'
Wilard corrected him. 'Sabot loaded.' Maxwell followed with 'Identified!'
Again without thinking, Dixon yelled, 'Fire Sabot. Load HEAT!'
Once the gunner was on target and heard the loader yell, 'Up,' he ranged, screamed, 'On the way' and fired.
