Battlefield Russia

Battle of Fei-ts Ui Reservoir

Crack, crack, BOOM.

The sounds of war were ever present for the men of Echo Company, 2–6 Marines as they began the first day of Operation Spartan, a Marine-led operation to clear the Fei-ts Ui Reservoir, the last major enemy stronghold on the island.

This key location in the northern center of Taiwan provided the majority of the island’s freshwater and was also one of the only routes left to the west coast of the island, so it was a critical piece of land. The reservoir and the entire surrounding area was heavily defended by the PLA’s 121 Motorized Infantry Brigade, which was a specialized jungle unit, as well as their parent unit, the 123 Mechanized Infantry Division. These Chinese forces had spent the better part of six months preparing the area for this very battle, and their commanders definitely would have been aware that clearing the reservoir was one of the last major obstacles to the Allies in securing the island.

Captain Tim Long was feeling apprehensive about the upcoming hostilities. Unfortunately, just the day before, his new battalion commander, a freshly promoted lieutenant colonel by the name of Mohamed Abadi, had been killed along with his executive officer and two staff officers when their M-ATV command vehicle had driven over a tank mine on their way back from a division briefing about the operation. Despite the vehicle’s armor, it had been completely obliterated, killing all of the men inside instantly. With only six hours left until the operation was slated to kick off, Colonel Tilman had placed Captain Long in the position of de facto battalion commander until another officer could be pulled from another unit to take his place.

Captain Long wasn’t normally superstitious, but Lieutenant Colonel Abadi had been the second battalion commander that 2–6 had lost in the past three months, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled to find himself in the same position. This sudden shift in responsibilities was also a lot for him to mentally prepare for in a short amount of time. He had a lot of intelligence and data to sift through.

Long pored over maps, memorizing the marks where there were potential enemy positions and fortifications. From what he was able to gather, there were a series of enemy forts built along Route 9 at multiple points and elevations. What he still didn’t know was exactly how complex these fortifications were. He couldn’t find any information on whether or not they had machine-gun positions, antitank or artillery cannons. He didn’t know what type of infantry support they had or what type of antiair defenses they had in the area.

He sighed. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough once we head in,” he thought, frustrated.

At 0530 hours, Captain Long found himself standing in front of the company commanders of Alpha, Bravo, Charley, Delta, Fox, and of course, his own company, Echo. He knew he should say something profound, even inspiring, but he was at a loss for what to say. The sudden unexpected death of their battalion CO had caught them all off guard. Steeling himself, he looked up at the group.

“We’ve had a rough couple weeks, and I’m not going to sugarcoat it and say this operation will be a walk in the park,” Captain Long began. “This is probably going to be just as tough as the invasion, maybe tougher. We’re finally moving inland, but we’ll be attacking the enemy on ground of his choosing, not ours. That said, we can and will defeat them.”

He stood a little taller before he continued. “Unlike the enemy, we haven’t been abandoned by our country to fight and die on some island. They have. We are Marines — the greatest fighting force on earth, backed by the greatest country on earth. I’ve been assured by Colonel Tilman that we will have close air support from both the carriers offshore, and the Air Force, who’s finally got themselves set up at the airfield in Toucheng, near the coast. He also said the 1-10 Marines have settled into Firebase Ripper, so we’ll have both 105mm and 155mm artillery support for the duration of the operation. Their call sign is going to be Ripper One-One.”

Long turned to another captain and signaled for him to step forward. “This is Captain Reich; he’s our FSO. If your unit needs fire support, direct your request to him, and his team will relay that request back 1-10 for support.”

Captain Long signaled toward a new face in the unit, a man wearing a different uniform from the rest of the group. “This is Master Sergeant Hill. His six-man team is on loan to us from the Air Force. They are our tactical air control party or TACP group who’ll handle coordinating our close air support from both the Navy and the Air Force. If you need any airstrikes, get with your TACP, who’ll call it in.”

Long finished going over who their support LNOs were going to be, confirming the call signs and frequencies everyone would be operating on. Then he pointed to a spot on the map hanging on the wall. “We’re going to move to this point here along Route 9. This is where the recon guys said is roughly the edge of where the enemy lines start. We’ll disembark the vehicles here and move in on foot. This farm area is where we are going to leave the vehicles, and will become our base camp for the time being. The aid station will be set up here.”

He turned to face his Fox Company commander as he continued his brief. “I’m not changing Lieutenant Colonel Abadi’s plans from earlier. Your company will provide security for the base camp. You’ll need to clear an area for medical helicopters to land and find a spot for your mortar platoons,” he instructed.

The captain nodded.

“OK, guys. We all know our orders. We’ve gone over this plenty of times this last week in preparation for this operation. It’s time to execute, so let’s go make the Corps proud and kick the PLA where it hurts.”

Two hours went by as the column of armored vehicles and trucks trekked through the winding mountain road known as Route 9 to their new base camp. They reached the small mountain city of Pinglin, where they disembarked their military vehicles and went to work on turning the area into a forward base camp. Alpha and Bravo companies were sent forward to the position the recon Marines had identified as the front lines to start identifying where the enemy was. The remaining four companies worked to get a perimeter established, build up machine-gun positions, and clear a suitable flat area for helicopters to land. By midday, a Seabee unit also showed up, bringing their construction equipment with them to aid in the transformation of the area into a forward fighting base.

Toward the end of the day, Alpha and Bravo companies ran into the first of a series of enemy strongpoints. At first, the soldiers only had to deal with a few pop shots, but as both companies pressed forward, they ran into a series of fortified positions, which stopped them in their tracks.

Back at the base camp, Captain Long listened to the radio chatter of the two company commanders as they relayed what they were seeing and called in for artillery support. In minutes, artillery rounds began flying overhead, on their way to hit the Chinese positions. Outside the operations tent, the men in the base camp could hear the distant sounds of explosions and heavy machine-gun fire. The fight was on, and Captain Long knew it was just a matter of time before they too would join in.

As evening turned into night, Alpha and Bravo companies settled in to their positions for the night, facing the enemy. Thus far, the first day of the operation resulted in only eight Marines being injured, no fatalities. The following day would prove to be the real test. With their support base now operational, Captain Long planned on moving his other three companies forward to support Alpha and Bravo in the early hours of the morning. Come sunup, they’d launch their first major offensive.

Captain Long swatted at a mosquito before leading the way with his point man to link up with Alpha. It was still dark. He nearly tripped over some roots that seemed to be doing their best to grab at him, preventing him from moving forward. It was almost as if the undergrowth knew he was walking into danger and Mother Earth was trying to stop him as the roots and vines clung to him with each step.

Captain Long spoke into this radio to one of his fellow company commanders. “Alpha Six, this is Echo Six. Have your rearguard turn their IRs on. We’re nearly to your position.” The last thing Long wanted to have happen was a friendly fire situation, so he was grateful at the moment that they all had infrared goggles.

Seconds later, he and his point man saw the pulsing throb of the infrared light as it flashed every couple of seconds, guiding them toward Alpha Company’s position. A few minutes later, they connected with the other Marines. One of the sergeants led Captain Long to link up with Captain Dave Mitchell, the Alpha Company commander.

Captain Long looked around as he walked, noticing how bright it was starting to get. The sun had just broken past the horizon a few minutes ago, forcing the darkness of the evening to retreat. “Perfect timing,” he thought. “We’ll get in position before the morning sun is fully up.”

Captain Mitchell had just finished eating one of his MREs when Long approached. He smiled as he stood and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, Tim. I hope the trek over here wasn’t too bad,” he said with a smile.

“It’s good to see you as well, Dave,” Captain Long responded. “You weren’t joking when you said the terrain to get here was tough. I thought those vines and roots were going to pin me down so those mosquitos could eat me alive.”

Captain Mitchell chuckled as he swatted at a mosquito himself. “Yeah, I think those things are the national bird around here or something — they’re as big as a freaking quarter. Let’s go ahead and get your guys filtered into our lines. I want to show you on the map what we’ve run up against.” Mitchell made a motion to his senior NCO, so he would go ahead and get Long’s men moving while they still had the cover of some darkness left.

Pulling out his map, Mitchell showed Long where the enemy positions where in relationship to the intelligence they’d been given. Captain Long pulled out his own map to write down the information as well. “Right here, this spot is one massive machine-gun bunker,” explained Captain Mitchell. “We hit it with a number of 155mm arty rounds, but they couldn’t get through it. No effect. From what we could see, there are at least five heavy machine guns in it and at least two antitank guns or light artillery guns. Roughly three hundred meters to the right of this position, which is over by Bravo Company, is a second fort just like this one. I talked with Captain Floyd, and he said there’s a third fort just like these two, roughly four hundred meters to his right. That fort has an excellent field of fire over most of Route 9 through this point here.”

Long looked at what he’d just been shown and grunted. “This is going to be a lot tougher than we thought,” he realized.

Captain Long asked, “What’s behind these forts? Are there more fortifications we’ll have to fight through once we clear these guys, or is this it?”

Captain Mitchell’s face reddened a bit, and Long immediately surmised that he didn’t know the answer. “I, um, I’m not sure,” he stammered. “I let us get bogged down with these bunkers and didn’t have anyone scout behind them.”

“OK, then that’s the first thing we need to figure out,” said Long patiently. “We’re going to focus on hitting these two forts this morning with an air strike. While that’s happening, I want you to have one of your scout teams find a way behind this fort here,” he explained as he pointed to the first fortification directly across from them. “Then we should have them move at least a kilometer behind the enemy positions before moving north to see what’s behind them. We need to know if this is just the first layer of defense, or if it’s wide-open country behind them.”

“We can try and use some of the scout drones. They may get shot down or tangled up under the tree cover, but it won’t hurt to try,” one of the platoon leaders offered.

Captain Long nodded in agreement. Then he turned to Master Sergeant Hill. “I need to know if we can get some bombs on those forts,” he explained. “Do you think you can try and make that happen?”

The Air Force master sergeant had been listening to the two captains talk and had made some notes of his own. He looked down at the maps and nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem, but we need to make sure none of our guys move any closer. These bombs are going to be danger close when they land. We’ll see if a 500-pounder does the job. If it doesn’t, we’ll hit it with something larger, but we’ll need to make sure you pull your Marines back a few hundred meters if we’re going to drop a 2,000-pounder.”

“Make it happen, Master Sergeant. Let us know when it’s heading our way,” he ordered.

The next twenty minutes went by quickly as the Marines filtered onto the front lines and prepared themselves for the coming airstrikes. If the Air Force was able to smash the enemy forts, then they’d charge forward and seize the ground.

As jets rushed overhead, most of the Marines looked up at the sky. Captain Long heard a loud noise like a rocket engine.

Swoosh!

Two elongated objects shot up out of the ground toward the jets, filling the area where they had just launched with smoke. The objects rushed into the clouds so fast, they seemed to create a path of lightning as they traveled toward the jets.

Boom!

The jets broke the sound barrier and then sped off. There was a slow-motion second of silence before one of the platoon leaders shouted, “Everyone down! Bombs inbound!”

The Marines instantly buried their heads below any cover they could find and opened their mouths slightly, just as they had been told to do when a bomb was being dropped danger close.

The ground beneath them shook like an earthquake as it bounced the Marines an inch or two off the ground before throwing them back onto the hard surface. Then a massive gust of wind from the overblast rushed over them and the incredible sound of the explosion slapped their bodies. Debris fell down from the sky around them like rain from a storm, covering them in dirt, grass and vegetation.

Captain Long looked in the direction of the explosions and marveled at the sheer power and destructiveness of such a weapon. It never ceased to amaze him how such a small metal object could cause so much death and destruction. As the dust settled, they saw the bunker, largely still there, though it was clear it had suffered some serious damage. The northern part of the structure had a hole in it, and smoke was pouring out of two of the gun slits. Clearly the bomb had penetrated the structure and killed a lot of its inhabitants.

Lifting the radio receiver to his lips, Captain Long called out to the units on the front lines. “SITREP. Did all the bombs score hits?” he asked.

A minute went by and then, one by one, the various sections of their front line called in saying the bombs had found their marks. Each section reported a hit. Captain Long nodded in satisfaction at the news.

“Good job, Master Sergeant,” Long said as he jovially patted the Air Force TACP on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Sir,” Master Sergeant Hill responded. Then his face dropped. “Just so you’re aware, we lost one of the F-16s on that strike,” he explained.

Captain Long was surprised at the comment. Then he remembered seeing those two surface-to-air missiles fly up out of the tree cover. Long just nodded and returned a grim look as he acknowledged the sacrifice just made to help save his Marines.

Without taking too much more time, Captain Long turned to his radioman or RTO. “Corporal Perez, send the order for everyone to advance,” he directed.

The Marines, who moments ago had been hunkering down for the airstrike, moved forward at a crouch toward the enemy positions. Captain Long signaled for his RTO and senior NCO to follow him forward. He wanted to be as close to the action as possible to better direct the battalion’s resources. The Air Force TACP grabbed his own M4 and joined them as well, along with one of his junior airmen.

When the Marines got to within one hundred meters of the fortifications, they saw the bunkers were a lot more complex than they had previously thought.

The radio crackled. The scout they had sent out earlier was on the other end. “Sir, there’s at least one more layer of forts behind this one, potentially more. It’s hard for me to see that far through the dense undergrowth.”

Crack, crack, zip, zip, BOOM.

One of the Marines in the lead had stood up a little too high as he tried to climb over a fallen log. The poor young man was ripped apart by dozens of bullets from one of the machine-gun bunkers. Then several grenades arched through the air in their direction, and they started taking fire from what appeared to be a light-caliber field cannon.

Most of the Marines leading the charge hit the dirt as they ducked to get out of the way of the barrage of bullets being fired at them.

“Suppressive fire!” shouted one of the sergeants to the Marines nearby, and the second and third line of Marines quickly obliged, giving the first group of Marines a chance to find cover and start returning fire.

“Get us some artillery fire up here!” shouted another Marine. More of the Marines’ machine guns came online, adding to the roar of gunfire.

Thousands of hot metal projectiles flew back and forth between to the two groups of soldiers. The crisscrossing of red and green tracers added a futuristic laser affect to the battlefield as smoke drifted across the ground, further illuminating the tracers’ effects. Captain Long crouched down behind a large tree just as a string of rounds slapped the trunk, chipping parts of it away.

“Crap, that was close!” yelled Corporal Perez as he crawled up to Long.

“Get me some artillery fire on those positions!” Captain Long shouted. His voice was barely audible over the roar of gunfire happening all around them.

Another explosion blasted loudly not far from them, and one Marine was sent flying sideways from the blast, slamming in to a tree before falling limply to the ground. Master Sergeant Hill, the Air Force TACP, was already on the radio with his counterparts, trying to determine if they had any fast movers loitering above them that might be able to lend them some support.

Corporal Perez handed Captain Long the radio receiver, yelling, “I’ve got Ripper One-One on the other end!”

Long snatched the receiver from Perez, placing it to the side of his face as he depressed the talk button. “Ripper One-One, this is Echo Six. Fire mission. Target Zulu One, one round HE. Stand by for adjustments!” he shouted.

“Good copy, Echo Six. Stand by for fire mission,” came the reply from the fire direction center.

Normally he’d work through his fire support officer, but he knew the other company commanders would be calling him. Long was hoping to lighten the man’s load and handle his own company’s fire mission requests for the time being.

“Echo Six. Shot out,” the fire direction center operator announced. A couple of minutes later, the round came sailing in right through the tree cover and landed just behind the fortified enemy position, throwing up a geyser of dirt and underbrush.

“Ripper One-One. Adjust fire, drop twenty meters. Repeat last fire mission,” Captain Long ordered.

Just as Long finished speaking, an enemy explosion ripped through the Marine lines. The PLA was doing their best to keep the Marines from getting too close to their positions. Then the whistling sound of the friendly artillery round screamed in overhead, this time landing right on top of the enemy fortification. The structure shook, though it was clear the round had not penetrated the reinforced concrete.

“Ripper One-One. Good shot,” shouted Long. “Give me one smoke round and two rounds HE on that same spot, and stand by for adjustments.” Captain Long crossed his fingers and hoped this next set of rounds might get lucky. If nothing else, it should shake the enemy up and potentially be enough of a shock to them that the Marines might be able to bum-rush them.

Switching over to the company net, Captain Long shouted to his platoon commanders. “Listen up! When the next round of artillery hits the enemy bunker, I want everyone to charge the bunker as quickly as you can. We need to close the gap on them once we stun them.”

When the next rounds came crashing in, the explosions seemed to blast the fortified positions hard, throwing debris high into the air. Then the smoke round burst open, throwing smoke canisters all over the enemy positions, temporarily obscuring their view.

“Charge!” yelled Captain Long. He tossed the radio receiver back to his RTO as he jumped out from behind his covered position and ran forward toward the enemy lines as quickly as possible.

Long jumped over some fallen trees and fought not to get tangled up by the hanging vines and other undergrowth as he struggled to catch up to the rest of his Marines, who were now running toward the enemy as fast as they could.

Slowly at first, a couple of enemy machine guns resumed their melody of death as they blindly crisscrossed the battlefield in front of them. At least their once-dominant view of the area was now obscured by the infrared-resistant smokescreen the artillery unit had laid down for Captain Long’s men.

In a matter of minutes, several platoons’ worth of his Marines had made it to within twenty meters of the enemy positions. Unexpectedly, a light breeze suddenly blew through the jungle canopy, dispersing the smokescreen that had been protecting his men. As the smoke dissipated, the enemy machine-gun fire became a lot more accurate as the PLA homed in their aim. Then, the field cannon in the bunker resumed firing, blowing parts of tree trunks apart and sending shrapnel flying in all directions.

Captain Long was now less than forty meters from the first bunker. He took a knee behind a large tree trunk as he aimed his rifle at the enemy. A round cracked right past his head, causing him to instinctively flinch and duck behind the tree for cover. He looked back and saw Corporal Perez, his RTO, wince in pain and grit his teeth as he momentarily dropped his rifle. He’d been shot in his left arm. One of the Air Force TACPs that was running next to him stopped, grabbed Perez and his rifle and pulled both of them behind a large rock as a string of bullets kicked up a bunch of dirt around them.

Long popped out from behind the tree trunk, aimed his rifle at the gun slit that was shooting at them and squeezed the trigger. His rifle barked several times as he fought to keep his rounds in a tight shot group, right where he knew the enemy machine gunner to be.

Out of his peripheral vision, Captain Long spotted a small cluster of Marines who had managed to crawl up to the bunker. He smiled. They’d somehow gotten themselves to the base of the fortified position without being seen and were readying to take it out. One of the Marines pulled the pin on a grenade, then held it for a second before he shoved it into the gun slit. A second later, Captain Long heard a loud explosion, and then the enemy position fell silent.

Further down the fortified position, the other machine guns and field cannon continued to fire on them. Hundreds of bullets were still ripping the trees around them apart, some of the bullets finding their marks and hitting his Marines. Even above the roar of gunfire, Captain Long could still hear the wounded call out, “Corpsman!”

Near him, Long spotted one of the Navy corpsmen assigned to them jump up and run under heavy enemy fire to give aid to the wounded Marines. Captain Long admired the man for courageously risking his own personal safety to help save others.

The group of Marines who had made it to the edge of the fortified bunkers steadily made their way down the structure, tossing grenades into the gun slits and firing ports as they went along. They had nearly made it to the end when an enemy soldier inside must have discovered what was happening and dropped a couple of their own hand grenades outside the bunker. Before the Marines could respond, the two grenades exploded, killing or injuring all four Marines who had been systematically silencing the enemy positions.

Several additional Marines charged forward to take their place and provide medical help to their brethren. Unfortunately, they were quickly cut down by an enemy machine-gun crew who had anticipated this action. One of the groups of Marines eventually did make it up to the bunker and finished the job the first group had started. In all, it had taken them maybe fifteen minutes to silence the enemy bunker once they’d charged it, but it had cost Captain Long’s company the lives of six Marines, and another dozen had been injured.

The same scene played itself out at the other three fortified positions, with the Marines eventually capturing the enemy positions. Now that they had a better picture of what was waiting for them at the next line of enemy defenses, Captain Long insisted on the Air Force plastering the Chinese positions with their heavier ordnance. They’d hang back a kilometer or so away and allow the fast movers to hit them with the heavier 2,000-pound bombs. If things went according to plan, the enemy positions would be largely destroyed by the time his battalion was ready to assault the next position.

As the day wore on, the sound of explosions and machine-gun fire continued to fill the entire reservoir area as the rest of the Marine division pushed its way through the enemy lines. The fighting was fierce and often devolved into hand-to-hand fighting. In the distance, Captain Long observed as dozens of surface-to-air missiles that had been hidden in the jungle rocketed out of their covered positions to reach out and hit the Allied planes as they swooped in to provide desperately needed close air support. Long had no idea what kind of losses the Navy and Air Force were taking, but he was glad to see them continuing to support them despite the grave risks to themselves and their aircraft.

While Long’s battalion waited for the Air Force to get around to hammering their targets, he fell more fully into the role of battalion commander. His time and energy began to be consumed with making sure the various companies had enough ammunition, the wounded Marines were getting brought out of the jungle and back to the medics at the basecamp, and overall coordination of his battalion’s operations in relationship to the other battalions in their regiment. As the day turned to evening, Long had all but turned over operational control of his own company to his executive officer.

The battalion sergeant major came by and made Captain Long painfully aware that he needed to do what he could to visit the other company positions and check on them. There was also a regimental briefing at 2100 hours that he’d need to head back for. This was the part of being an officer Long hated. When he’d been an NCO, his only job was to make sure his squad and then platoon were taken care of. Now he was responsible for the lives of nearly seven hundred Marines; it was an enormous responsibility.

Thankfully, that evening at the regimental briefing, Captain Long learned that the executive officer from their sister battalion was being moved over to take command of the battalion from him. Long instantly liked the guy — Major Brian Noble was a hard-chargin’ Marines’ Marine. He’d started the war as a first lieutenant and moved through the ranks quickly, like a lot of Marines had given the significant casualty numbers.

Like Captain Long, Major Noble had a chest full of medals. He’d been wounded once and had received the Silver Star along with two Bronze Stars. Long had him beat with two Purple Hearts and the Navy Cross, but both of them were the type of leaders who liked to lead from the front, in the thick of the action with their men.

That evening, when Long and Noble got back to the basecamp, Major Noble pulled Captain Long aside. “Hey, I want to make sure that you’ll be my second-in-command in case something happens,” he asked.

“It would be a privilege, Sir,” Captain Long replied.

“OK, when we return to the front tomorrow, I will embed with Alpha Company, and I want you to resume command of Echo,” Major Noble directed.

“Sounds like a plan, Sir,” Long answered.

Captain Long had only managed to get maybe two or three hours of fitful sleep. The previous day had been brutal. Their battalion had encountered a much larger force than they had originally thought would be there. They’d taken a number of casualties, forcing the regiment to shift another battalion over to assist them in breaking through the enemy lines.

Since he couldn’t sleep, Captain Long silently crept around with his first sergeant, checking on each of his platoons before the morning light signaled the beginning of the new day. It was 0600 hours as the predawn light slowly crept over the mountains that encircled the valley and reservoir. In another thirty minutes or so, it would be light.

When he’d finished checking on his platoons, Captain Long took the opportunity to grab an MRE from his ruck, reminding himself that he needed to eat if he was to keep up his strength and energy. Looking at the mystery surprise, he saw he had pulled Menu 1: spaghetti with meat sauce.

“Hmm… at least it comes with the cheese spread,” he thought. He opened the bag and began to assemble his morning meal. He hadn’t had time to eat most of the day before and was paying for it with a lack of energy now. The body can fight through a lack of sleep, but only if it is properly fueled.

Three bites into his meal, the morning silence was shattered by a large BOOM and the sudden chattering of one of their heavy machine guns. A number of other rifles were firing near the perimeter. Captain Long stuffed his spoon back in the food pouch and turned to his radioman, who seldom ever left his side. “Corporal Perez, get me a SITREP from Staff Sergeant Jenkins!” he ordered.

Within a minute, the gunfire died down and eventually stopped altogether. At that point, Staff Sergeant Jenkins came on the radio. “Sir, it appears a small team of enemy soldiers hit one of our trip flares as they moved parallel to our lines. Corporal Dungy triggered his Claymore as soon as he saw the enemy soldiers, then one of the other privates manning the M204G raked the area with gunfire.”

“Did they return fire? Did we take any casualties?” Captain Long inquired.

“Negative, Sir. The enemy never had a chance,” Staff Sergeant Jenkins answered. “I have no idea how many enemy soldiers are still out there, though, or how many we killed. It’s still too dark for us to see much, and our night vision can’t see through the thick vegetation. If you can send a runner over with the thermals, I might be able to get you a better answer.”

The scopes were in high demand, and unfortunately, three of the five scopes assigned to their battalion had been destroyed in the first day of fighting. A fourth was destroyed when the lieutenant operating it had been blown up during an enemy artillery barrage.

“Copy that, Staff Sergeant. I’m sending Lance Corporal Able to you with the scope. I want a SITREP ASAP. We’ll stand by to launch some illumination rounds once you’ve had a chance to use the scope.”

Five long minutes went by before he received an urgent call from Staff Sergeant Jenkins. “Sir, we’ve got trouble,” he said. “I believe that group of enemy soldiers we just smoked was the point element for a much larger enemy force. I can’t get you a head count, but there have to be more than fifty soldiers fanning out into an assault line maybe two or three hundred meters to our front.”

“Copy that,” Long answered. “Start waking everyone up and tell them to get ready. I’m going to work on getting us some illumination rounds. I need you to relay to Corporal Perez some coordinates for the artillery, so we can get this information back to regiment.”

Corporal Perez pulled out a pen and notebook from his pocket and took down the coordinates from Staff Sergeant Jenkins.

“Ripper One-One, Pit Bull Six. How copy?” said his RTO.

“Pit Bull Six, Ripper One-One. Good copy. What do you have for us?” asked the artilleryman.

“Fire mission. Troops in contact,” explained the RTO. “Need one round illumination, grid TW 3456 4765, five-hundred-meter airburst. Break. One round HE, grid TW 3456 4765. Break. One round HE, grid TW 3469 4521. How copy?”

“Good copy on all. Stand by,” relayed the artillery battery.

After a moment of silence, a crackle went over the radio. “Shots out,” announced the artilleryman.

A couple of minutes went by, and then they heard the loud whistle of the rounds flying fast overhead until they slammed into their plotted positions. Looking beyond the perimeter, Captain Long saw the two bright explosions from the HE rounds impact and then the sudden blaring brightness of the illumination round, igniting a thousand feet above the location of the enemy soldiers. In another twenty minutes, they wouldn’t have needed the illumination round at all.

What Long saw next was horrifying. The entire ground suddenly appeared to move as enemy troops advanced. Hundreds of little lights flickered, and then thousands of bullets zoomed through the air, hitting everything around Captain Long’s perimeter. The barrage of enemy fire directed at their positions was relentless as many bullets found their marks. Wounded Marines called out for corpsmen.

The roar of hundreds of voices screaming at the tops of their lungs thundered as the Chinese charged forward. This roar was soon intermixed with thunderous booms as his Marines detonated their Claymore mines. His Marines steadily returned fire, tearing into the ranks of the attackers as they pressed their own attack forward, desperately trying to close the distance between themselves and the Marines.

Long was still holding the radio receiver connecting him to the division artillery, so he depressed the talk button and shouted to be heard over the cacophony of gunfire and screaming going on all around him. “Ripper One-One! Good hit! Repeat fire mission. Fire for effect. Five rounds HE. We’re about to be overrun. Keep ‘em coming!”

Corporal Perez interrupted him as soon as he finished talking to the artillery battery, shoving another handset at him. “It’s Captain Flowers from Charlie Company!” he shouted.

“This is Long!” he yelled.

Captain Long heard rifle fire and explosions in the background of the radio as Captain Flowers tried to relay what was happening on his end. “We’re getting hit hard on the right flank. I estimate at least a battalion’s worth of enemy soldiers. We need artillery support — can you get us some?”

“Flowers, I’ve got a fire mission coming in right now across our entire perimeter,” Captain Long answered. “Have one of your guys start to relay any additional coordinates you have to Corporal Perez. Hold the line no matter what, Captain Flowers. Help is on the way!”

Seeing a swarm of enemy soldiers nearly upon his perimeter, Captain Long raised his rifle and fired at a group of PLA soldiers who were charging right for one of his machine gunners. The first two guys he fired at went down quickly. Captain Long had shifted fire to a third guy, but he was stopped in his tracks when an RPG flew over the heads of the Marines he was trying to protect and slammed into a tree several meters to his right.

He winced in pain as he felt something hit his right arm and shoulder. Long steadied himself and again aimed at the PLA soldiers, who were now fighting hand-to-hand with his Marines on the perimeter. The machine gunner he’d been trying to protect was now lying on the ground on his back with a PLA soldier straddling him. The Chinese soldier was trying to press his knife into the young man’s chest. Long aimed at the pair as they struggled for survival, depressing the trigger once. He watched his bullet hit the Chinese soldier squarely in the head. The man went limp on the young Marine, who proceeded to throw him to the side as he once again scrambled to get behind his M240G. In mere seconds, he was continuing to lay down suppressive fire.

Captain Long turned to look for his first sergeant and saw the man slumped against a rock, half of his face missing from the RPG’s shrapnel. Corporal Perez was on the radio, calling for more artillery fire.

Snap, crack, boom!

Bullets continued to hit the tree he had been using for cover while others zipped past his head and to either side of the tree. A hand grenade went off near the machine gunner he had just saved a moment ago, killing the young Marine.

Captain Long’s heart sank. He had to get that machine gun operational again. It was the only thing keeping the enemy at bay.

“Perez! Follow me!” he shouted to his RTO. He leapt up, his rifle pressed to his shoulder as he charged the enemy, systematically killing as many of them as he could with each shot fired.

It took Long a minute to rush the twenty meters to the fallen Marine’s position. As he neared the machine gun, he dropped his empty magazine and slapped a fresh one in its place. Jumping into the hastily built foxhole, he grabbed the M240G and placed it snug against his shoulder. Then he proceeded to let loose a long string of rounds into a mob of charging enemy soldiers, while bullets zipped past his head and kicked up dirt all around him.

Corporal Perez jumped into the position next to him, reaching over to one of the fallen Marines and grabbing several of the one-hundred-round belts of ammo off him. Then he linked one of the new belts with the one Captain Long was chewing through. Searching around the position for more ammo, Perez found three more in the ruck of the assistant machine gunner, who was lying dead next to him. He also took a couple of the hand grenades from his dead comrade and began throwing them at the charging enemy.

Crump, crump, crump.

The explosions sounded small in comparison to the mortars and artillery fire being rained down, but they were doing the job of killing or wounding the enemy, who was steadily bearing down on them.

“Shift fire to our right, Sir!” shouted Corporal Perez.

A fresh wave of enemy soldiers had surged toward their position. At some point in the battle, his right flank had fallen apart as the Marines were simply overrun by the sheer numbers being thrown at them. Captain Long saw the wave of humanity, shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs with bayonets attached to the ends of their rifles… charging right for them. Leveling the M240G at the charging horde, he pulled the trigger, letting a string of machine-gun fire rip through their lines. He moved his aim back and forth across the enemy, and watched as many of them clutched at their chest, arms, and legs, falling to the ground before they were trampled upon by the following soldiers.

Turning his head slightly to Corporal Perez, he shouted, “Fall back!”

Perez, for his part, threw several grenades at the enemy and then bounded back five or so meters before turning around to lay down suppressive fire so Long could move. Sensing that this was his moment, Long stopped firing as he ran in a low crouch past Perez to another tree, where he once again opened fire on their attackers, all the while shouting for the others to fall back as well.

It took a few minutes, but more and more of his Marines heard his call to fall back and collapsed back on a rally point they had identified the day before. The enemy reached their previous positions and halted their advance for the moment, committing a fatal error in their attack by giving the Marines a moment of reprieve. Within seconds, a lot of the gunfire happening around them slackened as more of the Marines disengaged and the PLA stopped pressing their attack.

When they reached the rally point, Captain Long called back to battalion to let them know what had just happened. While he was on the radio, more of his Marines continued to filter into their positions, some carrying wounded comrades, others wounded themselves but still able to fight.

“Get a perimeter set up now!” Long shouted.

Captain Long took a moment to talk with higher headquarters, requesting a quick reaction force be sent to their position.

“Where’s the first sergeant?” asked one of the other sergeants as he took the M240G back from him.

Pausing for a second, the captain looked solemnly at the sergeant. “He’s dead,” he answered. Then, without giving him too much time to process that statement, he asked, “Where’s Lieutenant Simmons? I need to speak with him.”

“I’m coming, Sir,” shouted his executive officer. He was helping to lay a wounded Marine down near the center of their position. The company’s corpsman was busy trying to stabilize and treat the numerous wounded men being brought in.

Once his XO made it over to his position, Captain Long asked, “How many men have we lost? Did all the platoons fall back to our rally point?” While he spoke, he was performing a quick head count of the wounded.

“I don’t know what happened to Second Platoon. They were on the right flank. Last I saw, several artillery rounds landed in their positions and then the PLA had swarmed all over them. I was with Third Platoon. I’ve got them situated over there,” Lieutenant Simmons explained as he pointed to an area roughly twenty meters away.

Lieutenant Scott walked up to them. “I’ve got Fourth Platoon situated on our right flank, ready to repel any further attacks,” he said. “I have to admit, Captain, I thought you were a dead man. The Chinese hardly hit our platoon, so I brought a squad over to your position. When I saw you charge forward and grab that machine gun like that I figured you’d last maybe a minute. My guys did their best to cover your retreat — I’m glad you made it.”

“The Chinese didn’t hit your platoon’s section of the line at all?” asked Long.

“No, Sir,” Lieutenant Scott answered. “The attack appeared to be concentrated on Second and First Platoon positions. Like I said, my platoon was hardly hit. We only sustained one wounded. My guys are ginned up and ready for some payback. Do you want me to head back to where Second Platoon was and see if we can find any survivors?” he asked.

Captain Long thought about that for a moment before responding. Major Noble had told him that he was sending two platoons from Delta Company to help him. Part of him knew that he should probably wait and make sure they held their current position, but Long also didn’t want to leave a platoon of his men alone. He could still hear the ratatat of several machine guns, M4s and AK-47s, in the distance.

“Lieutenant Simmons, how many able-bodied men do we have ready to fight right now?” Captain Long asked.

Simmons had just finished conferring with a few sergeants and a couple of other gunnery sergeants, scribbling something on his notepad. He looked up. “We’ve got a lot of wounded and missing-in-action guys from Second and Third Platoon right now. We have maybe two full squads from First Platoon and three full squads from Third Platoon that are able to fight. Of the five squads, probably only three of them could assist Fourth Platoon.”

Letting out a sigh, Captain Long turned to look at Lieutenant Scott. “Take your platoon along with a squad from Third Platoon with you,” he ordered. “I’ve got to keep the others here to protect the rally point until our reinforcements from Delta arrive. When they get here, I’ll send them your way.”

With that settled, Lieutenant Scott called out to two of the gunnery sergeants, “Grab your men and head with me! We’re going to go find and fetch Second Platoon.”

When Lieutenant Scott’s platoon got close to where Second Platoon should have been, they saw something even worse than what he’d expected. Not only was the area littered with the torn and mangled bodies of their fellow Marines, but there had to be close to three companies’ worth of enemy soldiers filtering into the area, getting ready to move toward them.

Scott’s platoon sergeant whispered to him. “Sir, it doesn’t look like anyone survived. We should report what we’re seeing and head back to the rally point. That force is too large for us to take on, and the company will be hard-pressed to beat back that large of an attack without us.”

Lieutenant Scott knew that was the right decision, and he did have to consider the well-being of his own men, but seeing his fellow Marines lying there, dead, alone, and surrounded by the enemy like that, really burned him up. He shook his head and let out a sigh.

“Relay the message back to the CO and tell him we’re heading back.” With that settled, the platoon silently crept back to the rally point, readying themselves mentally for what they knew would be another withering attack when it came.

“Sir, you really need to let me look at that wound,” said one of the corpsmen as he tried for the tenth time to look at Captain Long’s shoulder and arm. The right side of his blouse had a lot of blood on it, and his Marines were starting to get concerned that he might pass out from loss of blood.

“Fine, just be quick about it,” Long consented.

While the corpsman went to work on his arm, he used his other hand to signal for First Lieutenant Simmons to come over and speak with him. “Simmons, what’s going on with Fourth Platoon?” he asked. “Did Lieutenant Scott find our guys?”

Simmons just shook his head. “They found them, but it appears they were all dead, or the enemy had moved the wounded and others captured back to their rear area. He also reported seeing what looked to be maybe two or three companies of enemy soldiers forming up for another attack.”

Captain Long shuddered in disgust. At this point he had his body armor and his blouse off, and the corpsman began to cut his undershirt off to get at the wound better. Long shot the man a look of scorn. “You’re lucky that wasn’t my Under Armor shirt. I only have a couple of them left,” he said.

Just as Lieutenant Scott approached them, they heard a commotion behind them. While the corpsman was wiping away some blood and pouring some iodine on the wound, Colonel Tilman and the regiment’s sergeant major approached them.

“That looks like it hurts, Captain. You all right?” asked Colonel Tilman as he eyed the wound.

The corpsman had a pair of medical pliers out and proceeded to pull a small piece of metal out of Long’s right shoulder before examining his arm to do the same. Captain Long winced as the pliers pulled the fragment out of his shoulder. While it hurt, his shoulder felt a lot better with the metal out.

Long looked at Colonel Tilman and shook his head. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot or hit with shrapnel. I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”

“That’s hard core, Marine. Semper Fi,” grunted the sergeant major before moving on to check on the rest of the troops.

“You shouldn’t be here, Sir,” warned Captain Long. “Lieutenant Scott’s platoon spotted at least two or three company-size elements forming up for another attack. There’re roughly a kilometer in that direction.” He pointed toward the location of the enemy.

The colonel nodded. “Good,” he replied in a voice that was almost too optimistic. “I’ve got Third Battalion deploying to your right flank as we speak. Lieutenant Scott, go with Major Allen here and relay what you saw and where they are. We’re going to finish this battle today.”

While the officers continued to talk, rocket fire from the high-mobility artillery rocket system or HIMARS battery screamed in the background until it exploded on the enemy fortifications that the regiment still had to secure. The thumping sound of helicopters also got closer.

One of the squads had tied some det cord around half a dozen trees to help create a clearing for one of the CH-53 Super Stallion to land so they could fly out their wounded, so fortunately, there was at least some patch of land for them to set down upon. When the helicopter landed in the clearing, half a dozen Marines rushed forward to help offload several crates of ammo and grenades, along with numerous five-gallon jugs of water. Just as soon as that had taken place, the corpsmen ran forward with their stretchers, bringing the wounded to the helicopter. Many other walking wounded also got on board before the helicopter lifted off, ready to head back to a high-level trauma center. When the Super Stallion was gone, a second one landed in its place and offloaded a fresh platoon, ready for action.

Colonel Tilman saw the fresh Marines getting off and commented to Long, “I’ve got eight more loads of fresh Marines coming into this position right now. We’re moving the regiment’s headquarters forward. I need to be closer to the fight.” He paused for a second, watching the corpsman wrap Captain Long’s shrapnel wounds. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to a field hospital and get that stitched up?” he asked. “We’ll manage for a few days while you’re gone.”

Long shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll wait for the regiment surgeon to arrive. He can stitch me up here and I’ll get right back to it. I can rest and recover after we finish these guys off.”

“All right, Captain, have it your way. For the time being, I want your company pulled back to provide security for regiment HQ. You guys need a break, and it’s the best I can give you until the situation changes.”