they had put out earlier. He knew he was dead.
But nothing happened. It finally occurred to him that he was not heavy enough to set off the mine. Even so, when he mustered the courage to remove his foot, he did so with the greatest of care. Sweat rolled down his face as he tried to regain composure before moving on. There were too many ways to get killed out here. Kelp wanted his tank back. This infantry shit was for the birds.
When he thought that they were close enough to the infantry positions, Kelp called out to let them know they were coming back. Polgar, unfamiliar with Kelp's voice, ordered them to advance and be recognized. When they were in the open, Polgar gave them the challenge.
Only after Kelp gave the proper password were the two tank killers allowed back into the fold.
Once the tanks were clear of the village, Bannon ordered 31 to move up to the right of 55.
As they were starting to swing south to return to their positions, they ran into the Russian infantry that had just broken contact with Polgar. Apparently, the Russians had not heard of the run through the village by the American tanks and thought 55 and 31 were Russian. They simply stood aside to let them pass. When the tanks cut loose with machine guns, the last semblance of order evaporated and the Russians scattered to the four winds. Only the jamming of 55's last operational machine gun broke off the engagement. The battle for Hill 214 was over, for now. Checkmate.
As 55 and 31 moved south along the tree line in silence, Bannon radioed Uleski and Polgar.
He ordered them to pull their people back to the trail junction and form a coil. Polgar and his men would cover the north, Uleski and his element would cover the east and south and 55 and 31 would cover the west. When everyone was in, they were to meet at the trail junction.
Bannon was the last to arrive. Uleski, Polgar, Jefferson, and Hebrock greeted Garger and him with nothing more than a nod. With not so much as a word of greeting, he simply asked, 'OK, what do we have?' Uleski had suffered only one wounded, a PC driver who had been hit in the shoulder during their fire fight and had lost a lot of blood but was in stable condition. Both the PCs and the 2nd Platoon tanks had ample ammo on hand. Polgar's dismounted element had suffered two killed, including the Dragon gunner, and four wounded, two of them seriously. Although his people had run low on ammunition while on the firing line, now that they were with the PCs, the men were replenishing their ammo pouches from ammunition stored on the PCs. The only casualty between 55 and 31 had been 31's loader. He had been hit in the face by a bullet during the run through the village. Though he was in a lot of pain, he would survive. For the price of two dead and six wounded, Team Yankee had held.
But the Team had reached the end of its rope. Even as they stood there, Bannon could tell that the stress and strain of this last fight had used up every man's final reserve of energy. They had done their best and done well. But there was no more to give. Besides the exhaustion, the tanks were down to a grand total of thirty-one main gun rounds and four thousand rounds for the COAX and loader's machine gun. Even if the men could hold up under another attack, which was impossible, the ammunition couldn't. Bannon informed the Team's leadership that at 0330 they would leave Hill 214 and move south in order to reenter friendly lines. There was no need to explain. There were no protests or speeches. Everyone understood the situation and knew there was nothing more to be gained here. Now the Team's mission was to save what was left for another day.
To prepare for the move, the wounded were loaded onto the PCs, three in each. Folk, who could drive a PC, took the place of the wounded PC driver. Kelp took the place of the wounded loader on 31. Uleski would command one of the PCs and half of the infantry while Polgar took the other PC and the other half of the infantry. The tank crews redistributed the ammunition between the tanks. When all was ready, the Team settled in to wait until 0330 and move out. Deep inside, Bannon wanted to believe that at the last minute the battalion would come forward and link up. He was going to give them another hour and a half. If they didn't get here by then, he was going to save as much of Team Yankee as he could.
CHAPTER EIGHT
R and R
The damned fly kept bothering him. It wasn't the buzzing so much. Bannon could block that out. It was the fact that the bastard kept landing on the cut on the side of his face and irritating it. He'd no sooner shoo it away with a halfhearted wave of his hand than it would come back and land. How could he get any sleep with that damned fly bothering him. Sleep.
'SLEEP! MY GOD, I'VE FALLEN ASLEEP!' That thought stunned Bannon. His eyes popped open and were greeted by the morning sun. Almost instinctively, his arm shot up to check the time on his watch. 0548. The Team had missed its move-out time by over two hours! Now it was full daylight. Chances of slipping away under the cover of darkness were gone.
Bannon looked over into the loader's hatch. Newman was sitting upright on his seat sound asleep. A scan of the tight circle of tank and PCs failed to reveal any sign of movement. Instead of being alert and watching their sectors, track commanders were slumped across their machine guns asleep. Infantrymen lay curled up on the ground asleep where they had fallen. Even the wounded were quiet. The calamity was complete. Team Yankee had collectively gone to sleep.
Bannon jumped down to awaken the crew of 55. The gunner was lying up against the main gun. 'Sergeant GWENT! Sergeant GWENT! WAKE UP!' Gwent sat up, shook his head, then jumped when he realized he had fallen asleep.
'Oh shit, sir. I fell asleep. Goddamn, I'm sorry.' 'Well, don't feel like the Lone Ranger.
Everyone is asleep. ' Gwent suddenly realized what Bannon was telling him, and that it was light outside. His eyes grew big. 'You mean we didn't pull off that hill yet? We're still behind enemy lines?'
'Target. Now get the rest of the crew up while I wake the Team up. AND DON'T CRANK THE TANK.'
Without waiting for a response, Bannon climbed out and began to dismount the tank. The spaghetti cord connecting the CVC to the intercom jerked his head back to remind him to disconnect it before jumping off 55. Once disconnected and on the ground, he headed for the first leader he saw, Polgar. Polgar was asleep, leaning against the side of a tree with his Ml6 cradled in his arms. After being shaken a moment, his eyes opened into narrow slits, looked to the left, looked to the right, looked at Bannon, then flew wide open. 'SHIT! I fell asleep.'
'Well, Sergeant Polgar, you ain't alone. Wake up the XO and your people while I get the tank crews. Gather the leadership at 55 when they're up. AND DON'T START ANY ENGINES.
Clear?'
'Clear.' With that, Polgar was up in a flash, hustling from body to body, waking each one up with kicks, shakes, and curses. Bannon trotted over to 31.
Garger was leaning over backwards, asleep, arms extended and stiff. He looked as if he had been shot. 'Gerry! Gerry! Lieutenant Garger! WAKE UP!' His eyes opened in tiny slits.
Like Polgar, he looked at Bannon for a moment, then jumped upright. 'OH SHIT!' It occurred to Bannon that 'Oh shit!' was fast becoming the standard greeting for the Team instead of good morning. If their predicament wasn't so serious, this whole situation would have been comical.
'Gerry, get the rest of the tank crews up and have the TCs meet me over at 55. And tell the TCs not to crank the tanks.' As Bannon was getting off, Garger reached down and kicked his gunner in the back, telling him to wake up.
As he headed back to 55, Bannon began to work on a way out of this one. There would be no slipping away under the cover of darkness. If the Team moved, it would be in broad daylight, just like yesterday. That thought was disturbing. But staying here to face a new series of Russian attacks was equally distasteful. The collapse of the Team's security confirmed his belief that it was at the end of its tether. The Russians were sure to come back with more people and tanks. Bannon didn't dare face a wounded bear with a handful of punch-drunk soldiers. They had to pull out, the sooner the better.
Once the leaders were together, he issued his orders. The Team would go out the way they had planned. Since the Soviets had not hit them from the south, that was the direction the Team would take. The 55 and 31 would lead, traveling abreast once they were in the open.
The PCs would come next, in the center, followed by 24 and 22. The Team would move around the west side of the hill that had been Objective LOG and go back into friendly lines the same way they had come out. The only
