the Germans, allowing the German police car to bounce back down the street when her slow-moving Bradley hit it. From her perch, Kozak watched the driver of the German police car slowly open his door and, moving slowly, get out.
Rather than become excited, Reusch could only stand in the middle of the street looking first at his police car and then at the American Bradley that had almost run him and his car over. How he survived was at that moment beyond him. Not that it was important, other than the fact that something had saved him. Turning to face his attacker, Reusch realized for the first time that the front of his pants and his right pants leg were wet. In the excitement of the moment, he hadn't noticed the warm urine running down his leg. Only the cold night air hitting his wet pants caused him to notice. After looking down at his pants, Reusch looked back up at the Bradley, its commander now leaning out of an open hatch. Quickly replacing his shock and embarrassment with anger, Reusch began to step forward, toward the Bradley. As he did so, he mechanically unsnapped the flap of the holster for his pistol.
Even in the pale light of the streetlamps and falling snow, Kozak couldn't help but notice that the German policeman's look of shock had changed to one of anger. His sudden turn toward her and the unsnapping of his holster caused Kozak to ease back down into the safety of the turret just as her gunner, Sergeant Danny Wolf, was sticking his head up to see what was going on. When he saw the angry policeman, his right hand resting on the butt of an unseen pistol, advancing on C60 like Gary Cooper in
Kozak simply shrugged off Wolf's concern. 'Well, we knew someone was bound to get upset.' Looking over at him, she added, 'After all, most Germans don't take too kindly to having their country invaded.'
Wolf, still watching the policeman as he stopped just off to one side of C60, chuckled. 'I don't see why they should get so emotional over something like that. Hasn't everyone invaded Germany at least once?'
Unable to restrain herself at Wolf's attempt at humor at a time like this, after a long, tense rail movement through the Czech mountains and into Germany, Kozak laughed. 'True, that's quite true. I guess they just don't see the humor in the situation.'
As if his brush with death and his involuntary urination weren't enough to upset and anger Reusch, the sight of the Americans who had almost killed him laughing caused him to lose control. Pulling his pistol out, Reusch held it pointed at the Bradley commander and began to shout at the top of his lungs for him to dismount and surrender himself. He didn't realize, of course, that not only was the Bradley commander a woman, but that even if she wasn't, she was under orders to meet force with like force.
Seeing that things were getting out of hand, and sure that her laughing wasn't helping the situation any, Kozak dropped what Wolf called her official Commander Nancy face into place. Keeping one eye on the screaming German, Kozak slowly began to lower herself into the safety of the turret. When she knew her driver, Terri Tish, could hear her without the aid of the intercom, Kozak ordered Tish to slowly begin to move forward. Though she hoped that the German policeman would get the idea and move his police car, Kozak didn't much care what happened. Already the column of tanks and Bradleys coming up from the rail yard was backing up behind her, waiting to get out of Pegnitz and move to their blocking positions to the west of Grafenwohr.
With one eye on the angry German policeman and the other on the street ahead, Kozak guided her Bradley forward. When it made contact with the police car turned broadside in the street, she noticed a second policeman, his head bleeding, jump out of the passenger side. The second policeman paused once he was clear of his derelict vehicle and watched the Bradley begin to crush it. Looking at his doomed car, then at the parade of armored vehicles coming up from the rail yard, he decided that this was more than they could handle. Turning on his heel, he began to flee down the street and out of sight.
An excited cry from Wolf, just as the police car began to crinkle and rip under the treads of the Bradley, caused Kozak to see what he was up to. Glancing over her shoulder, away from the irate policeman who was still screaming and waving his pistol about, Kozak noticed that Wolf had a grin from ear to ear. When he saw his commander looking at him, his smile grew larger. 'I always wanted to do this, Captain. I just wish we could've gotten some pictures to send home.'
Though she felt like saying something, Kozak didn't. It was at this point useless to try to explain to Wolf the seriousness of what they were doing, that they would be lucky if after this they would be able to send themselves home. Shaking her head, she looked back at the policeman, now standing on the side of the street watching as Bradley C60 finished grinding his police car into compressed scrap.
Though he was tempted to shoot the commander of the American Bradley, Reusch decided not to. Instead, he stood there and watched his police car reduced to a mass of twisted metal. It wasn't that he had any particular affection for the car. It was no different than any other police car operated by the police in Pegnitz. What really bothered Reusch was the total disregard for his authority and the blatant disrespect the Americans had shown him. It was the image of the American perched high above him laughing as he tried to perform his most difficult duties that upset Reusch the most. When he had seen that and realized that they were laughing at him, Reusch wanted to shoot him. And he would have too had he been able to control his anger enough to steady his shaking arm.
That he would have been gunned down in a matter of seconds didn't matter to him at first. His state of mind, and the minds of many Germans for days to come, would be unable to make the mental transition from peace to war instantaneously. Such things, as Big Al knew and counted on, took time. Even Reusch, standing in the street of Pegnitz waving his fist defiantly at the column of Bradleys and tanks as they rolled by him, failed to comprehend the deadly seriousness that the warlike Americans carried into this enterprise. Reusch's confusion and inability to deal effectively with the situation because of a lack of understanding and precedent were to be repeated time after time as Germans going about their daily routines ran into the lead elements of the Tenth Corps as it spilled out of the Czech mountains and into the peaceful, snow-covered river valleys of Bavaria.
Almost as if it were a routine occurrence, the guard opened the gate for the Territorial Army regional headquarters. Merging in with the line of cars waiting to enter the military compound, the driver of Scott Dixon's M-1A1 tank turned off the street crowded with early-morning traffic and rolled through the gate into the compound as if he were just another commuter going to work. Dixon, riding high in the commander's hatch with the confidence that war machines like the M-1A1 Abrams transmit to their crews like a battery supplies energy, gave the German gate guard a smart salute as he went by. Ignoring the stares of the reserve soldiers and officers of the German Territorial Army scurrying about in the predawn darkness of the neat, well-laid-out compound, Dixon directed his driver around the circular drive to the headquarters building. Cerro, riding high in the hatch of the M-577 command post carrier, followed Dixon's tank. Together, they represented the advance command post of the 1st Brigade, 4th Armored Division. Even more importantly, as they moved through the German Territorial Army compound, they represented the first test of official military reaction to the Tenth Corps march to the sea.
Scott Dixon and everyone in his small advance command post group understood the significance of what they were doing. Who went and how they traveled were all considered and discussed. Dixon favored a small party, but one that had a little punch. One tank, though not constituting by European standards much of a combat force, was sufficient to convey the message that they came ready to fight. Any more tanks, Dixon pointed out, would have been an outright invasion. Coming in anything smaller than a tank could have been interpreted as a bluff. Even the timing was critical. If they had come storming into Bayreuth and the regional headquarters before the alarm was spread, none of the key players would have been at their posts. By allowing them time to assemble and assess the situation, Dixon would be able to save a great deal of time explaining things and would be greeted with leaders who were awake and at least felt they were in control.
Bringing his tank to a halt in front of the main entrance of the headquarters building, Dixon took his time in dismounting, making great show of the fact that he was in no rush and did not feel threatened. Standing erect on the turret roof, Dixon towered above everyone as he made a great show of his indifference to the comings and goings of the German reservists who had been recalled to halt the invasion of their country by Dixon's command. By the time he had removed his armored crewman's helmet, replaced it with his Kevlar helmet, and pulled on his web belt and load-bearing harness, Hal Cerro was on the ground waiting dutifully for Dixon next to a German Army captain.
When Dixon finished climbing down, Cerro introduced the captain as the military region's Regular Army adjutant. Exchanging salutes, then handshakes, the adjutant led both Dixon and Cerro to the commander of the military region. Behind them, they left the gunner and loader of Dixon's tank up and manning the machine guns at the commander's and loader's position of the tank. Both guns, leveled and manned by alert soldiers with stern no- nonsense expressions on their faces, served as a reminder to anyone who saw them of the potential for open and
