ambush drill. Three of the infantrymen hit the antipersonnel mine detonators, causing thousands of small round pellets to rip through the Soviet column. The machine guns opened fire along set sectors with a withering cross-fire that knocked down those still standing after the mines had detonated. The grenadiers plunked out 40mm grenades in their sectors. The riflemen surveyed their areas and, like the grenadiers, marked their targets and took them out.
The violence and shock of the ambush were overwhelming. The Russian officer barely uttered a word before he was cut down. The deadly and accurate point-blank fire ensured that any movement by any Russian who survived the first volley was his last. The darkness, the violence of execution, the loss of their leaders, and the resulting confusion were too much. Those lucky enough to be in the rear of the column withdrew back down the trail, pursued by a hail of bullets. Some made it.
The order to cease fire could be heard throughout the woods. As quickly as it had started, the firing stopped and quiet returned.
Polgarfs report to Bannon was matter-of-fact, accurate, and succinct. In his opinion, the Russians had been a platoon and were merely probing for positions and strengths. That discovery had been costly for the Russians. But they had the men available and could afford the price. While the Team awaited the next Soviet move, Polgar shifted his men back several meters to a new line of positions. If the Soviets decided to hit the Team in all directions, the survivors would surely lead the next group back to the point of the ambush.
The next group along the trail would be in attack formation. By dropping back, the next Soviet attack would hit an empty sack. If the Soviets didn't catch on to what, was happening and milled around the old infantry positions, Polgar might catch them off guard and have the edge again. With so few men, he needed every advantage he could get.
About forty-five minutes after the fire fight in the woods, two of the tanks in the village of Arnsdorf cranked up and began to move slowly towards the north, to where the trail entered the wooded lot. The slowness of the move gave the impression that the Russians were trying to hide the move. Any movement of tanks, however, is very difficult to hide. Bannon informed Polgar and told him to be ready for tanks. Smugly, Polgar simply replied, 'Send'em, we're ready.'
As the tanks moved to the north, the OP in front of the Team Yankee's tanks reported that there was additional movement just inside of that part of the village facing Hill 214. When Bannon radioed to Polgar that he thought both the tanks and infantry positions would be hit at the same time, Uleski also reported movement to his front. The Russians were putting on a full court press. The moment of truth was at hand. After ordering the OP back and telling Lieutenant Garger in 31 to move up as soon as he heard 55 crank up, Bannon wondered if the next move would be check or checkmate.
The incoming rounds simply began to explode. Instinctively, Bannon dropped all the way down into the tank and masked. Specialist 4 Newman, 55's loader, was already masked and looking at Bannon. In an almost matter- of-fact manner, as if he was discussing sports or the weather, he told Bannon, 'Those don't sound like the shells we were hit with the other day. There's no whine before they impact.'
'Mortars. They must be firing mortars. Probably 120mm mortars from the battalion's mortar battery. They can't do much to us.' At least, Bannon didn't think they could.
Once masked and hooked into.the intercom, he had the driver crank up the tank and move up to its fighting position. As they moved forward, Bannon popped his head up and surveyed the scene. The mortar rounds were falling just to the rear of the tanks. The volume of fire was impressive but doing little more than creating noise. A check with Polgar and Uleski revealed that 55 and 31 were the only ones being shelled. Bannon guessed that the Soviet commander was attempting to draw their attention to the sector facing Arnsdorf.
Through their thermal sights, the crews of 55 and 31 watched a line of fifty or more Russian soldiers move out from the village and begin to advance toward the hill. They were followed by four BTR-60s and two tanks at a distance of twenty meters. Behind them came another line of troops followed by their BTRs. The Russians were coming in force this time. Bannon ordered 31 to engage the T-72 on the left on order. Tank 55 would take out the one on the right. They would be firing at the T-72 with straight frontal shots. Bannon wasn't sure how well the 105mm rounds of the M-l would penetrate the front slope of a T-72. He therefore instructed Garger to continue to engage until it burned. There was no time for second-guessing. He didn't want to have some Russian do to them what he had done to the T-62s.
Once the T-72s were destroyed, Bannon wanted 31 to suppress the infantry while 55 took out the BTRs. Not that a BTR was dangerous. With only a 14.5mm gun in its turret, it could not hurt an M-l. But the destruction of the tanks, the methodical destruction of the BTRs, and a steady stream of lead pinning them to the ground in the darkness and confusion of a night attack would have a severe psychological impact on the individual Russian soldier. Bannon hoped that it would discourage him from rushing forward to become a Hero of the Soviet Union.
Polgar came up on the net and reported that he could hear the tanks coming down the trail.
He was ready and waiting. Polgar's transmission was followed immediately by Uleski, who announced that there were about one hundred dismounted soldiers advancing toward him in a column formation. The Russians were going all out this time. They wanted to hold the Team's attention in the front, pin those people they had discovered in the woods with a secondary attack, and sneak up behind. Team Yankee was in check.
It was the infantry that was first in action. The lead tank hit one of the antitank mines. The detonation was followed by a wild volley of small-arms fire from the accompanying Soviet infantry. They simply dropped down wherever they were and opened fire in whatever direction their rifles were pointed. Polgar managed to keep his men in check and quiet. He wanted to suck the Russians in.
When it became apparent that the lead tank was crippled, unable to move forward, and blocking the advance of the second tank, the Russian leading the infantry rose, gave a series of commands, and led his men forward in the attack. As the Russians advanced in a line straddling the trail, they fired from the hip and yelled in order to psych themselves up.
Their firing was wild and of more danger to themselves than to Polgarfs infantry. The firing by the Russians served only to keep Polgar aware of the progress of their advance.
The line of Russians came on. When they reached the line of deserted foxholes, the Russians began to throw grenades in the foxholes and increase their rate of fire. As it became obvious that there was no one there, the Russian officers began to shout orders and attempt to regain control of their men. It was while the Russians were milling about in an effort to reorganize and reorient for their next move that Polgar hit them. As before, the infantry set off several Claymore antipersonnel mines followed by machine-gun and automatic-rifle fire. As the Russians were in a line parallel to the new infantry position, rather than perpendicular as the first group of Russians had been in their column formation, the effects of the volley were far more devastating. Most of the officers went down fast. The Russian soldiers dropped down and began to exchange fire with the infantry. The disabled tank attempted to support from where it was by firing its main gun, but it did little good.
There began a deadly game of hide and seek. The Russians, lacking night vision devices, waited until an American infantryman fired. When he fired his first few shots, the Russian would orient his weapon to the general location that he had seen the muzzle flash. If the American did not move before he fired again, the Russian would take final aim and fire a burst. Doing this, however, exposed the Russians to the same risks and results. So the infantry battle bogged down into a fire fight with sporadic and violent exchanges of gunfire followed by brief pauses as both sides tried to fix new targets, followed again by a new exchange of gunfire as someone found a mark and fired.
Just as the infantry fight reached this standoff, a volley of Soviet artillery hit the trail junction in the center of the wood lot. Obviously, they wanted to isolate each element of the Team to keep it from shifting forces to reinforce an endangered sector. In this manner, if one of Team Yankee's elements beat back one of the three attacks, Bannon would not be able to use the people thus freed to help defend against one of the other two Soviet attacks. The Soviet battalion commander who had come up with this plan was good. He knew his business and was playing all of his pieces well.
As if the impacting artillery was a signal, the infantry advancing on 55 and 31 began to pick up their pace to a trot. As they were not masked, Bannon ordered the crews of 55 and 31 to unmask and prepare to fire when the T- 72s were at 700 meters. He issued the fire command and watched as the gunner laid on the T-72. It was becoming quite large, taking up most of the sight. Hitting it would not be the problem. Killing it was his concern. The gunner hit his laser range finder button with his thumb. The range return digits in the bottom of Bannon's extension showed 750 meters. They sat and watched the tank advance. It rumbled along, straining to hold back behind the line of
