Mech Platoon to the tank company was equated to exile to Siberia. Now it was a matter of pride. In fact, most of the infantry replacements had volunteered to be assigned to the Team. As one of the new men told him, if he had to be in this war, he wanted to be with people who knew how to fight. The Team was not as fortunate in the replacements they received for the tank crews. Most of them came straight from the advanced individual training course at Fort Knox. Some had never even been in a tank when a round was fired. It seemed that if they could recognize a tank two out of three times, they were shipped. So the Team's number-one priority became training the new men and integrating them into the crews and squads as quickly as possible.
One of the most interesting transitions that had occurred in the Team had taken place in Pfc.
Richard Kelp. Before the war he had always been an average soldier, nothing more, nothing less. Since the Team had come off Hill 214, however, he had become a man with a purpose. When they picked up a replacement tank from war stocks, Kelp was the first man on it. Instead of Folk having to keep on Kelp to work, Folk now found it difficult to keep up with him. With the new 66 came a new man. As it is easier to train a loader, Kelp was reassigned as the driver and given the mission of training Pvt. Leo Dowd as the loader.
After conducting several hours of crew drills on the second day, Bannon asked Dowd how things were going for him. He reluctantly answered that he thought that Kelp was being too hard on him. Bannon put on his official company commander's face and told him that Kelp was doing just fine. He added that if Dowd listened to Kelp and did just as Kelp told him, maybe he would make it out of this war alive. After that there were no more complaints.
Along with his new direction in life, Kelp received official recognition for his efforts in the defense of Hill 214. After questioning both of the privates who had come back from the tank-killing detail that night, Polgar put them in for Silver Stars. As the Dragon gunner who had been killed had led the group for awhile and had taken out the first tank, Bannon added him for a posthumous award. By the time the citations made it to division level, the efforts of the three men took on epic proportions. The story was turned slightly. The killing of the two tanks became the critical event for the battle of Hill 214 that caused the whole Soviet battalion to withdraw. In reality, things weren't that clearcut, but Bannon went along with it since it expedited the awards.
One change that had taken place that was not to Bannonfs liking was the outlook on life that Bob Uleski had adopted. His arm had been dislocated during the initial attack on Hill 214.
The battalion physician's assistant at the 1st of the 4th Armor's aid station had popped it back into place while the cut on Bannon's face was being cleaned and dressed. They wanted to have Uleski evacuated for a few days to convalesce. But he refused. As the Team was short of officers, Bannon allowed him to stay on as long as he could perform his duties. Despite obvious pain, he performed. For the most part, he slipped back to his good- natured self. But when it came to training, he was a different man. His personality changed to that of a cold and emotionless being, unable to tolerate the slightest error or any action that was not up to standard. When drilling his crew, he would turn on them with a vengeance if their times were not to his liking. When Bannon approached him on it, he simply shrugged it off as nerves. But there was more to it. Bannon wouldn't ask to replace him simply because he had changed. Everyone had changed. In his case, however, it was not a change for the better. So Bannon watched him closely.
One of the jobs that Bannon had dreaded most began the first night in the assembly area.
After the Team had stood down for the night, and only those personnel required for minimal security were posted, he sat alone at a table in the gasthaus. In the quiet of the night, with, no noise but the hiss of the coleman lantern, he began to write letters to the families of those who had died. 'Dear Mrs. McAlister, I was your son's company commander. You have been informed, I am sure, by this time, of the death of your son, John.
While this is small consolation for the grief that you must feel, I want you to know that your son died performing his duties in a manner befitting the fine officer he was. His absence…'
'Dear Mrs. Ortelli, As you know, I was your husband's company commander and tank commander. You have been informed, I am sure, by this time, of Joseph's death. While this is…' 'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Lorriet, I was…'
As he wrote the letters, the images of those who had been lost came back. In his mind's eye he could see 21 hanging on the edge of the ditch, burning and shaking from internal explosions; Ortelli, wrapped in his sleeping bag; Lorriet's eyes that stared and saw nothing; the severed arm belonging to a soldier Bannon didn't even know. Those images were perfectly clear to him. To the responsibility of running the Team, he now added the haunting and frightful baggage of remembering those who had been entrusted to his care and had died. In all his readings, in all the classes he had attended, nothing had prepared him for this. Each commander was left to deal with the images of the dead in his own way. 'Dear Mr. and Mrs… '
On the afternoon of the second day the first sergeant brought 2nd Lt. Randall Avery to the Team's assembly area. Avery had been assigned to take over the 2nd Platoon. As he was hauling his gear out of the first sergeant's vehicle, he noticed Garger going through a sand table exercise with his tank commanders. As the two lieutenants had both been in the same officer basic course at Fort Knox, Avery was thrilled to see the face of an old drinking buddy in this sea of strangers. He called to Garger. But instead of coming over and giving him a hearty greeting and hello, Garger merely acknowledged the new lieutenant's presence with a nod and continued to work with the 3rd Platoon's leaders. Avery could not understand the cold reception. The reception he got from Bannon was even colder.
Bannon and Uleski were sitting at a table on the terrace in front of the gasthaus going over the next day's schedule of training and maintenance when the first sergeant brought Avery over. 'Captain Bannon, this is Lieutenant Avery. He's straight out of Knox and has been assigned to take over the 2nd Platoon.'
With that introduction, Avery came to attention, saluted, and reported. 'Sir, Second Lieutenant Avery reporting for duty.'
Bannon and Uleski looked at each other, and then looked at the first sergeant. With a nod, Bannon acknowledged the lieutenant's salute. For a moment Avery stood there, not sure what to do. 'At ease, Lieutenant. We don't do much saluting in the company area. Where are you coming from?' 'I came over from Fort Knox, where I was attending the motor officers' course after AOB. I was in the same class as Gerry, I mean Lieutenant Garger. We were good friends there, sir.'
Again Bannon and Uleski exchanged glances. 'That's nice. What college did you graduate from?' 'Texas A and M, sir.'
Uleski couldn't resist. He let out three loud whoops. Neither First Sergeant Harrert nor Bannon could keep from breaking out in laughter. Avery stood there at a loss. He didn't appreciate being the butt of the XO's joke. Neither was he in a position to do anything about it. He was totally unprepared for this kind of reception.
Seeing the lieutenant's discomfort, Bannon put his official company commander's face back on. 'You are going to the 2nd Platoon. The man you are replacing was a damned good lieutenant who was killed three days ago. I hope you have better luck. Your platoon sergeant is Sergeant First Class Hebrock. He's been running the platoon since Lieutenant McAlister was killed. Your only hope of surviving is to listen to what that man has to say. I don't know how much time we have before we move out again. You have a lot to learn and not much time, so don't waste any. Is that clear?' Taken aback by this cheerless how-do-you-do, Avery simply replied, 'Yes, sir,' and waited for the next shock.
'Bob, we'll finish this up later during the evening meal. I want you to take the lieutenant down to 2nd Platoon and turn him over to Sergeant Hebrock. Then you best get down to battalion CP and check on the replacement for our FIST track. I damned sure don't want to let battalion let that one slip. ' 'OK. You need anything else from battalion while I'm there?'
'Just the usual; mail, if there is such a thing.'
With that, Uleski got up, gathered up his notebook and map and took off at a fast pace.
'Come on, Avery, this way. '
Avery glanced at the XO, turned back to Bannon, gave him a quick salute, then gathered up his gear and took off at a trot to catch up to Uleski who was already thirty meters away.
Somehow, Avery had expected something different. His mind was already racing in an effort to figure out what was going to happen next.
It wasn't until the evening meal that Avery had a chance to talk to Gerry Garger. The whole afternoon had been one rude shock after another. The greeting from the Team commander had been warm compared to that received from the platoon. Although Randy Avery was no fool and knew not to expect open arms and warm smiles, he had at least expected a handshake. What he got instead was a reception that ranged from indifferent to almost hostile. Hebrock had been proper but short, following the same line that the Team commander had taken, 'We have
