checked in with 2nd Platoon to learn if there was still evidence of a chemical agent. McAlister reported that he had no indications of any agent at his location and requested permission to unmask. This was granted. The 3rd Platoon was instructed to do likewise after they had conducted a survey of their area for contamination. Because 66 was headed into the center of where the chemical attack had been directed, the crew remained masked.
As they neared the position, the logging trail that had run behind the position ceased to exist. Shell craters and smashed and uprooted trees dimly lit by the failing light of late evening and small fires blocked their passage. Progress was slow as Ortelli carefully picked his way through the debris. Despite his skill, the craters and irregular pattern into which the trees had fallen threatened to throw one of 66's tracks as they proceeded. Through the shattered forest Bannon could make out a burning vehicle.
The condition of the three tracks that had occupied the headquarters position matched that of the shattered forest. One ITV was lying on its side, burning brightly. Its aluminum armored sides were glowing bright red and collapsing inward. Burning rubber and diesel created a thick, black, rolling cloud of smoke. The TOW launcher of the second ITV was mangled; chunks of electrical components dangled down from the launcher on wires. Set back and in the center of the ITVs was the 55 tank. Moving around on the right side of the tank were several figures. They were unmasked, so 66's crew unmasked as soon as the tank stopped.
Bannon dismounted and moved toward 55. Uleski was kneeling next to a figure on the ground. He looked at Bannon as he approached, then back at the figure. There were three men lying on the ground and two more sitting up next to 55. Even from where Bannon was, he could see that they were wrounded, badly. Two of 55's crew, the gunner and the loader, were working on the wounded men. They were frantic in their efforts, not knowing where to start or how to deal with a body so badly ripped apart.
Bannon's attention was diverted when he stepped on a broken tree branch that gave way under his weight. He looked down, froze, then jumped back in horror. The tree branch was an arm, shredded, torn, and bloody. For a moment, he was unable to do anything except stare at the limb, unable to force himself to think or move. Only when Folk brushed him as he ran by with 66's first-aid kit was he able to proceed. Even then, he walked slowly and carefully, watching where he stepped. The Team's charmed life had run out. It had paid in blood for winning the second round.
After reaching the tank, he looked at each of the wounded men as the crew of 55 and Folk tore at clothing to expose wounds and began to work on them. One of the men had lost a foot. He was in horrible pain, his head rolling from side to side, his arms thrashing the ground next to him. Another soldier beside him simply lay there, not moving. It took a second look to see if he was still breathing. A check of the other three showed they all had their arms. Bannon turned for a moment and surveyed the shattered landscape. The thought that one of his people was out there, smashed and scattered, was repulsive and frightening.
Whoever he was, that soldier was beyond help. There were those who needed more immediate attention. Bannon knelt down beside the body on the ground across from Uleski.
For the first time he looked closely. It was Sp4 Thomas Lorriet, the driver for 55. He was from a small town somewhere in Indiana. Lorriet was motionless. His right hand still grasped the hose of his protective mask. His mouth was opened as if he were gasping for air. His eyes were wide open but unseeing, his skin ashen white. He was dead.
Bannon looked up at Uleski who continued to stare at Lorriet. Uleski was shaken. Bannon had never seen him so despondent. After a few moments, the XO finally realized his Team commander was staring at him. He looked back, showing no emotion as he spoke.
'The ITV crews were transferring TOW rounds when the first volley hit. One minute it was quiet, the next all hell broke loose. They didn't know which way to turn. Some just flopped on the ground. Others tried for the tracks. One of the men lying over there was just wounded. He screamed for help but no one went for him. He just kept screaming until the gas reached him. The chemical alarm went off before it was smashed. We all buttoned up and waited.
When there was no letup, I ordered Lorriet to back it up. He didn't answer. I started to scream, but he wouldn't answer. I cursed at him and called him every dirty name I could think of. The whole crew started to yell at him to get the tank out of here. The whole tank shook.
Smoke and dust and gas seeped in. Shrapnel kept pinging on the outside, and each round sounded as if it was closer than the last. We all yelled at Lorriet till we were hoarse. He didn't answer.'
Uleski paused for a moment. He was starting to tremble. His eyes were filling with tears. He turned away for a moment in an effort to regain his composure. Once he had settled down, he continued, 'After the shelling stopped, we found him like this. His hatch was pulled over but not locked down. He never got his mask on. All the time we yelled at him he was dead.
We didn't know, we just didn't know.' These last words trailed off into silence.
The sound of the first sergeant's M-113 and the M-113 ambulance coming up broke the silence. Bannon reached out and grabbed Uleski's shoulder to make sure he was paying attention.
'All right, Bob, I want you to,go over to the first sergeant's track and contact the platoons on the company net. I haven't taken any SITREPs from them yet nor have I reported to battalion. Once you've consolidated the platoon reports, send up a Team SITREP to the S-3 and a LOGREP to the S-1 and S-4. Do you have that?'
For a moment Uleski looked at the Team commander as if he were speaking a foreign language. Then he blinked and acknowledged the instructions and slowly picked himself up.
Without another word, the XO headed for the first sergeant's track, turning and looking at Lorriet's body one last time.
As the medics, Folk, and the loader from 55 worked on the wounded, Bannon grabbed Sergeant Gwent, the gunner on 55, by the arm. 'What's the condition of your tank?'
Gwent looked at him as if he were crazy. He repeated the question. Gwent slowly turned his head to look at his tank for a moment, then back at Bannon.
'I… I don't know. We were so busy with the wounded and all. I don't know.'
'OK, OK. I understand. But the medics and the first sergeant can take care of them. I need you to check out that tank and find out if it can still fight. The Russians may come back and the Team needs every track it's got. Get your loader and do a thorough check, inside and out. When you're done, report back to me. Is that clear?' Gwent looked at Bannon, he looked at the tank, then he gave his commander a 'yes, sir' and called his loader over. They both started to walk around the tank, checking the suspension and tracks in the gathering darkness.
As soon as the wounded were on board, the ambulance took off, making the best possible speed. Bannon walked over to the first sergeant and Folk as they watched the ambulance disappear in the darkness. When he closed up on them, Harrert asked about Uleski. Before answering, Bannon turned toward the M-113. He could hear the XO talking on the radio to battalion, sending up the SITREP, line by line. Uleski would be all right. Bannon then told Harrert to search the area for dead and to get a dog tag from each of the bodies, if he could find one. Folk was sent over to the ITV with the damaged launcher to see if it could be driven. As they turned to their tasks, Bannon walked back to 66.
Ortelli was walking around the tank, checking the suspension and tracks. Every now and then he would stop and look closer at an end connector or pull out a clump of mud to check a bolt. When he was satisfied that the bolt was tight, he would go to the next one. Kelp was perched in the commander's cupola, manning the machine gun and monitoring the radio.
His eyes followed the first sergeant as he went about his grim task. When Kelp saw Bannon approach, he turned his head back to the east, watching the dark hill across the valley.
Bannon hadn't realized how tired he was until he tried to climb onto 66. He fell backwards when his first boost failed to get him on the tank's fender. He rested for a moment, one foot on the ground, one foot in the step loop, and both hands on the hand grip.
With a hop and a pull, he managed to pull his body up. He stood on the fender pondering his next move for a moment. Decisions were becoming hard to make. He moved over to the turret and sat on the gun mantel with both feet on the main gun. He was dead tired, physically and mentally. So much had happened since the morning. His world and the world of every man in the Team had changed. They hadn't budged an inch from where they had been, but the scene before him now was foreign and strange. It was all too much for a tired brain to take in. The Team commander let his mind go blank as he sat there perched over the 105mm cannon of 66.
Folk startled him. For a moment Bannon lost his balance and almost toppled off the gun mantel. He had fallen asleep. The fearful day had finally ended, and it was dark. The short nap only accentuated his exhaustion. The ITV
