kind for services rendered by the old couple. The old woman cried, and the old man saluted as the tanks went past them. Bannon returned the salute. Watching them as 66 moved off made him think of his own parents. He thanked God that they did not have to suffer as these people did.
As the Team column reached the proper march speed and interval, Garger leaned back in the cupola and relaxed. He considered the last twelve days and the changes that had occurred in him and the Team.
The loss of his platoon sergeant was unfortunate. Pierson had taught him a lot and had been very patient with him. Had it not been for Pierson, Garger knew he would have been relieved. The thought of such a disgrace had been more terrifying to him than the prospect of combat. Garger had not only survived but had found that he had a natural talent for tanking and combat. The panic, the tenseness, the sick feeling in his stomach, the stammering he had experienced at Fort Knox and during his first weeks in the unit were gone. When the firing had started, everything seemed to fall in place. There was no panic, no fear. He had a clarity of mind that he had never experienced before. There was still much he needed to learn and the CO and XO had helped him a great deal while the Team was recovering.
Eventually he would learn company tactics and all the ins and outs of staff work, for he knew that he could, and would, master his chosen profession.
The road march to the forward assembly area was a hard and wearing one for Avery. His inability to sleep that afternoon compounded his apprehensions and nervousness. Garger had told him before they left that he was going to have to lighten up or he would have a nervous breakdown before the first Russian got a chance to shoot at him. His friend had meant that as lighthearted but sound advice. Avery had tried to relax but found himself worried now about having a nervous breakdown. That would be disastrous. At least he could live with a wound. Evacuation because of a nervous breakdown before the first battle was a disgrace too terrible to contemplate. Only the sudden realization that he no longer knew where he was caused Avery to divert his attention from his fears of suffering a nervous breakdown to his fear that he wouldn't be able to find his location again on the map.
Shortly after 2200 hours the Team pulled into the forward assembly area. The movement in and occupation of the marked positions went like clockwork. In peacetime maneuvers the Team had never had such a smooth road march and assembly area occupation. Bannon greeted Uleski as he dismounted from 66, 'Well, Bob, you've done good. Real good. Have you been able to coordinate with the people we'll be passing through?'
'Yes, sir. I was forward this afternoon in their positions and have gone over the route several times. It's a piece of cake.'
'What about the Russians? What have they been up to and does the unit have any information on them?'
'Well, first off, they're not Russians. They're Poles. The Poles hit them just after I arrived there. It appeared that the Russians hadn't told them where the Germans were because they just rolled right up to the Germans in column formation. The German company commander let them come into his positions before he cut loose. The Poles never had much of a chance. They were cut to pieces. The company commander was killed but his XO took over and is still holding. Our battalion XO passed word down to us that the German battalion commander expects them to make another try sometime tonight.'
'What kind of units are we facing?' 'Tanks so far, T-55s. Real second-class stuff.'
'Hey, that's OK by me. I get paid the same amount for blowing away old tanks as I do for tangling with tanks that don't want to die. Tell me, do you have any qualms about going up against your own people, Bob?' 'Sir, those aren't my people. They're as red as the Russians. I'd rather be killing Russian Communists but, if all we have is Polish Communists, they'll do.'
Uleski's cold, unfeeling remark sent a chill down Bannon's spine. The dark side of First Lieutenant Uleski had come out again, the side that worried his commander. Bannon wondered if his hatred would cloud his judgment. He hoped not. For his sake and his crew's, he hoped not.
'Bob, make sure all the people that came with you make it back to where they belong. Then gather up the leadership and have them meet me here.'
The battalion S-3 came into the company area while Uleski was briefing the Team's leaders. Major Jordan waited until the XO was finished before he gave them his information. The battalion was closed up and ready. The 1st of the 4th Armor as well as the artillery battalions would also be in place on time. So far, all had gone well. As far as anyone could tell, the Polish unit didn't know of the battalion's presence. Things would go as planned.
Team Yankee would lead out at 0330 hours. At 0350, two battalions of U.S. and one battalion of German artillery would begin a ten-minute preparation on the Polish forward positions, both identified and suspected. At 0400 hours, Team Yankee's lead element, the 3rd Platoon, would pass through the German positions and begin the attack. If all went well, by early afternoon the battalion would be on the Saale River waiting for the 1st of the 4th Armor to pass through and drive on to Leipzig. This, of course, didn't take into account any Soviet reaction. The Soviets would surely do their damnedest to smash the brigade somewhere along the line. But there was always the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this time the plan might work.
Once all the last-minute details had been covered, and all the questions answered, the meeting broke up. The platoon leaders went back to pass the word on and answer any questions their TCs had. When everyone was gone, Bannon climbed onto 66, and told Folk that they would split guard duty. Jokingly, he told his gunner that since Folk had gotten so much sleep during the road march he would pull first shift while Bannon would pull second.
Without further ado, Bannon rolled out his sleeping bag on top of the turret and went to sleep.
After Avery and Hebrock finished putting out the information they had to the other TCs, Hebrock told his platoon leader to forget about pulling any duty between now and the move-out time and instead go to bed. Avery was too far gone to argue. By now, he had just about worried himself to death. It took all of his effort to keep his eyes open. While the lieutenant leaned against 21 for support, Tessman threw a sleeping bag down to Hebrock who spread it out next to the track. Avery didn't even bother to take his boots off. He simply flopped down, wrapped one side of the sleeping bag over himself, and passed out from exhaustion. He stayed in the same position until he was roused at 0310 hours.
Team Yankee missed colliding head-on — with the expected Polish attack by fifteen minutes.
Again the fortunes of war smiled on the Team. Instead of having to go forward and dig out the Polish tank and motorized infantry from their defensive positions, the Poles came out and were smashed by the combined weight of the German defensive fires and the artillery that was already scheduled to fire. In war, one's good fortune is sometimes nothing more than a matter of timing: being, at the right place at the right time. Had a staff officer or the brigade commander set the time of attack at 0330, it would have been the Poles enjoying the advantage. As it was, Team Yankee gained a double advantage. Not only did the Poles impale themselves on the Germans' defenses and save the Team the trouble of seeking them out, they allowed the Team to get an extra half hour's sleep.
The sound of the raging battle to their front, the eerie shadows caused by the illumination rounds as they floated down to earth, and the flash from impacting artillery rounds made the crossing of the East German border seem unreal. It was like a scene from a cheap science-fiction movie. Moments like this, when one is not actually involved in the fight but close enough to see and hear it, is when fear reaches a peak. The fear of failure. The fear of being ripped apart by artillery. The fear of death. All these fears run through the mind as a soldier closes to do battle. Once engaged, training and instinct take over. Fear is pushed aside by the necessity to fight or die. But before, when there is still the chance to back out, the rational mind pleads for reason, to stop, to quit before combat is joined. The tank, however, keeps going forward and ignores the rational mind. Combat will be joined, despite reason and one's better judgment.
As Sergeant Polgar's personnel carrier eased down the ramp into the antivehicle ditch that ran along the East German border, he became elated. After being in the Army for sixteen years, something he was doing was making sense. He recalled how, as a private in Vietnam, he and his buddies felt frustrated and betrayed when they had to break off pursuit of the North Vietnamese as soon as they came up to the Vietnamese border. They were never allowed — to go all the way in and finish the enemy and the war. He had been in Korea in 1977 when two American officers were hacked to death with axes in broad daylight by North Korean soldiers, and no action was taken to retaliate. He remembered the 444 days of embarrassment when a third-rate nation, Iran, held Americans hostage, and the Army wasn't able to free them. Like others in the military, the half-measures and restrictions placed on the U.S. military didn't make sense to him.
This attack, however, did make sense. For the first time in his military career, he was carrying the war into the enemy's homeland. He and his soldiers were going to be given a chance to strike at the heart of the enemy. No more running up to an imaginary line and then stopping while some politician reflected on what move would come
