As he prepared to give the necessary orders to slow their rate of advance, the thought occurred to him that the longer he took to give the order, the farther they would go. At their current speed, every second he delayed meant the Team advanced another meter. The faster they went, the less time the Soviets had to throw something at them. A few extra minutes could mean the difference between seizing a bridge over the Saale intact or finding them all destroyed. Of course, speed could work against the Team. If it got far ahead and ran into trouble, the rest of the battalion might not be able to catch up in time to pull its chestnuts out of the fire. Orders were orders and, as they say, discretion was the better part of valor. Team Yankee slowed down for the third time that morning.
As his tanks began to spill out of the woods onto the slope overlooking the valley, the Soviet tank company commander gave one short command. Like the well-drilled machine it was, the company rapidly deployed into a combat line. Once all the tanks were on line, they began to pick up speed and search for targets.
From their vantage point, this was not a difficult task. Before them, on the valley floor deployed in a great vee, was a company of armored personnel carriers and TOW vehicles being led by a small gaggle of three more personnel carriers. A quick count revealed that there were at least fifteen, maybe as many as twenty personnel carriers to their front less than four kilometers away. It had to be an American mechanized infantry company. The Russian commander watched the advance of his tanks, now moving at a rate of over forty kilometers per hour. The absence of American tanks with the personnel carriers worried him. The fact that the personnel carriers were M- 113s and not the new Bradleys pleased him. But there had been reports of tanks. He would have, liked to have taken out the tanks in the first volley. They were the greatest threat to his company. The M-113s would have been easy to deal with after the tanks. But, without any tanks in sight, the American mechanized company would be dealt with first. No doubt, once the shooting began, the American tanks would come out of hiding.
Even with his CVC on and 66's engine running, the sharp crack of tank cannons firing was clearly audible to Bannon as the sound reverberated through the valley. Automatically, he straightened up and looked around to see who was under fire. There were no telltale puffs of smoke or dust clouds from tank cannons to the front. A quick scan to the rear revealed nothing. Someone was shooting someone.
'BRAVO 3 ROMEO-THIS IS ROMEO 25-WHO IS UNDER FIRE AND WHERE'S IT COMING FROM? OVER.'
Both tank platoons rapidly reported back that they were not under fire. It was the Mech Platoon that provided the answer.
'ROMEO 25-THIS IS ZULU 77-1 THINK THE PEOPLE THAT WERE FOLLOWING US ARE UNDER ATTACK-I CAN SEE SEVERAL FIRES BEHIND US OVER.'
Bannon turned completely around in the cupola and stood as high as he could. In the distance, to the rear of the Mech Platoon, he now could clearly see four pillars of black smoke rising into the air. C company had been hit. But from where? By whom? And why no reports from battalion? He dropped down and switched to the battalion net to try to contact the battalion commander. When there was no response, Bannon tried to contact the S-3. Still no luck.
It was the D company commander who told him what was going on. In rapid-fire fragments he reported that C company was under attack from Soviet tanks coming from the east. He went on to report that he was deploying his company into a hasty defense along the road from Issel to Korberg. There was no time to get away. With that, he dropped off the net and stayed off despite Bannon's efforts to contact him. No doubt he was busy running his company.
He then contacted the Team Bravo commander to learn if he was in contact. Lieutenant Peterson reported that he was not in contact but could see the Soviet tanks coming down off the hill to the east. He estimated that there were at least ten, maybe more. He couldn't make out what kind they-were but since they were shooting on the move and hitting, he figured that they were T-72s or better.
It was clear that the battalion was in trouble. The battalion commander and the S-3 could not be reached. C company was probably scattered and fighting for its life. D company had checked out of the net as it prepared to greet the Russian onslaught. That left Team Yankee and Bravo with Bannon the senior officer. Suddenly he found himself in the position of being in command of half the battalion and having to come up with a solution to the nightmare or face losing the whole damned battalion. As these thoughts ran through his mind like a runaway locomotive, Team Yankee continued to move north, away from the battle, at a rate of one meter a second.
The Soviet tank company commander could feel the adrenaline run through his veins. They were closing on the Americans. Already a half-dozen personnel carriers were burning hulks with the rest scattering to get out of the way. All semblance of order had been lost as the Americans turned and ran. Surprise had been complete. Now they were reaping the benefits that their speed, fire, and shock effect had created.
With curt orders he directed the fire of his platoons. A report that there were more personnel carriers deploying to the west of the road drew his attention to the ten or twelve that were some three kilometers away. These carriers were dropping their ramps to let their infantry dismount. The tank company would have to finish the first enemy company fast and get to the second before they had time to set up a viable defense. Speed was critical! He began to issue new orders to his platoon leaders.
With little chance to think the whole problem out, Bannon began to issue orders. On the battalion net, he ordered Team Bravo to turn east, cross the north-south road, go about a kilometer, then turn south, and take the Soviets under fire in the flank with TOWS and tanks.
When Peterson acknowledged those orders, Bannon dropped down to the Team net and ordered the FIST chief to call for all the artillery and close air support he could and to get into position from which he could control it.
He then ordered the Mech Platoon to move to the southeast along the tree line into the gap formed by the two hills to their right. He was sure that the Soviets had come from there and expected more would follow. The Mech Platoon was to set up an antiarmor ambush in the woods and keep the Soviets from reinforcing the company already in the valley. The two tank platoons and the XO were ordered to follow 66.
As 66 turned east and headed up the hill to the tree line, Bannon explained over the Team net what they were going to do. Once they reached the tree line, they would turn south, following the tree line. When they got to the gap, if there were more Soviet tanks already coming out, they would hit them in the flank. If, however, Polgar got to the gap first, the tanks would turn west once they reached the gap and attack the Soviets in the rear. The Mech Platoon would be left to deal with any follow-on Soviets as best they could.
It was all Uleski could do to hang on. The Team commander had his tank roaring along the tree line at full speed, with the rest of the tanks in the Team trying hard to keep up. The Mech Platoon had taken off on its own as soon as it had its orders. To their right they could see the battle in the valley. A dozen burning tracks were scattered about the area. The Soviet tanks were clearly visible as they fired and moved forward. At the ranges the Soviets were firing at, they seldom missed. Gwent, the gunner, kept his gun laid on the Soviets below. The range was too great even if the Team commander had given them permission to fire. At the rate they were moving, however, that would not be a problem in a few minutes.
Uleski could feel his blood rising as he worked himself into a rage in preparation for the upcoming battle. He stoked the fires of his hatred of the Soviets by recalling how his first driver, Thomas Lorriet, had died. The image of the young soldier's body on the ground that first day pushed aside any last shred of compassion he had for the enemy as he cursed the Russians out loud over the whine of 55's engine.
As his tank raced along behind 66, Garger realized that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
At first, it was frightening. Men were dying there in the valley. In a few minutes he would be in the middle of the fray, adding to the killing and, if his luck ran out, being killed himself. The very idea that he should be enjoying this seemed inappropriate at first. But there was no denying the feeling. He had never felt so alive. Standing in the turret of 31 as it raced along, the image of the U.S. cavalry riding out to the rescue flashed through his mind. The only things missing from this scene were the troop's guidon and a bugler sounding the charge.
This was his moment. This was why he had joined the Army. 'To hell with it,' Garger thought.
'This is great! Too bad it can't last. '
A frantic and incomprehensible report on the radio was the first indication that the Soviet tank company commander had that his company was under attack. He glanced to his right in time to see a second tank in his company burst into flames. The enemy tanks! They're on our flank! As if on cue from the enemy threat to his right, the mechanized infantry company that had deployed along the road began to fire antitank guided missiles. He was trapped.
Without a second thought, the tank company commander ordered his tanks to turn left and cut on their smoke generators. They had been lucky, and they had caused a great deal of damage. But the Americans were now
