Bright Star

Chapter 20

The massing of helicopters to the south of Task Force 3–5 Armor's forward assembly area woke Dixon. The drone of their engines and the beating of their blades carried for miles through the cold night air. Looking at his watch, Dixon decided to wait a few minutes before rising. Snug and secure in his arctic sleeping bag like a bug in its cocoon and perched on top of his tank's turret, Dixon felt like he was alone.

Through an opening no bigger than his face, he looked up at the stars. He had been bom and raised in a city, so the dazzling display of stars that filled the desert sky always fascinated him. This morning was no different. For a few minutes Dixon allowed himself to be entertained by the spectacle created by suns and universes that were beyond his reach and comprehension. Other worlds, so different from his, lived and died in the cluster of lights that spanned from horizon to horizon. Gazing into infinity and having it look back at him eye to eye struck Dixon with awe. Though it all had a purpose, a beginning and an end, the universe that looked down on him betrayed no secrets. There was no reason why, no explanation. There was only the immense and overpowering presence of a universe that touched everyone and defied being touched by something so mortal as man.

In a few short hours he would be leading an armor heavy task force into battle. He would again, after a two-year void, command men in battle. Those efforts would block his idle thoughts from his mind as effectively as the earth's sun would soon hide the stars. But in the end, at night, the stars would be back. And anything he and his men did was temporary, transient. Neither he nor any of his men had a claim to immortality. Neither he nor his men could ever hope to fully understand why they were there, or even why they were so willing to risk their lives. Though all of them asked the question and were given reasons, Dixon knew the responses were reasons, not explanations. In the end, he knew, nothing could explain, with any degree of satisfaction, why his wife had been taken from him. He knew that regardless of what he did, men in his command would die that day. And despite his best efforts, he himself would someday be called by his maker to atone for his deeds, good and evil. Until then he was on his own, left wandering through a maze of time and events that had no clear course, no discernible end.

With a tug at the end of Dixon's sleeping bag, the gunner of his tank indicated it was time to rise. There would be little time for himself over the next few days. Command in war, like no other occupation, touches and draws on every fiber and nerve of the man who wears its cloak. For some the experience is draining, literally drawing the life force from the man. For others it is not only invigorating, it is life itself. In his heart, despite his best efforts to deny it, Dixon knew he was bom to command. Without it he was nothing, just another man existing in the eyes of the stars. With it he was alive. He had purpose. When his day of atonement came, he would stand alone before his God. He would need no explanations, no reasons. His life and his deeds, open to all, would justify his existence.

Pulling down the long, wide zipper of the sleeping bag, Dixon sat up and began to dress. Two hours and it would begin. He was ready.

In unison the guns of a 155mm artillery battery commenced firing at targets to the west. Awakened by them, Colonel Hafez sat up and looked around. He was as surprised by the fact that it was day as he was by the presence and firing of the guns. Throwing off a blanket that someone had covered him with, Hafez stood on the back deck of his tank and looked around. All about his position were the tanks, personnel carriers, and howitzers of the Republican Brigade. They were scattered in a loose and ill-defined circle, guns pointing out. Inside the circle were trucks, jeeps, and other support vehicles.

For a moment he collected his thoughts. He had a headache that was due as much to sleeping on the steel deck of the tank as to lack of sleep. Still, it was the best night's sleep he had managed to get in the last five days. About him he could see his soldiers going about their tasks, preparing for their next operation. While there was not a great deal of haste, nor could the level of activity be called a buzz, at least they were working. Several fuel trucks were pumping fuel into tanks or moving to their next customer. Soldiers lined up like chains of ants passed ammunition from cargo trucks onto their vehicles. On board and around those vehicles that had completed their rearming and refueling or were waiting to do so, soldiers adjusted the tension of their tank's tracks, cleaned machine guns, or went on with some check or service. With great satisfaction Hafez knew that his forty-two tanks, company-and-a-half of infantry, and two batteries of artillery would soon be ready for combat again.

What concerned him were the guns near his position. The battery of 155mm guns continued to unleash volley after volley of shells to the southwest. When he had gone to sleep, the nearest Libyan unit had been thirty kilometers from the spot where the Republican Brigade sat. The fact that the 155mm guns, with a range of eighteen kilometers, were firing meant that the Libyans were closer. Obviously, some time in the night or early morning, the Libyans had attacked and broken through somewhere.

Hafez was about to climb down from the deck of the tank and go over to the personnel carrier that served as his command post when a captain came running from that carrier toward him. Seeing Hafez awake and watching him, the captain waved a piece of paper and yelled that they had orders from Division. Kneeling down, Hafez retrieved the paper from the captain and read it.

As he had expected, there was a major attack in progress. Though the commander of the 3rd Armored Division expected to be able to halt the Libyan thrust with organic units, he was issuing a warning order to Hafez just in case. The order instructed Hafez to move his brigade, when he was ready, to a position south of Sidi Abd el Rahman. From there he was to be prepared to attack either to the south, toward Tell el Aqqaqir, or to the west, to El Kharash. The attack south would be launched if the 10th Mechanized Division required assistance in sealing off a penetration that threatened them. The attack to the west — the one Hafez hoped for — was the opening move of the counteroffensive. It was the intent of the commander of the 2nd Army to attack as soon as the Libyan forces committed had expended all their offensive power and before they had the opportunity to switch over to the defense. Timed properly, the Egyptian blow would hit the Libyans when they were still disorganized and not yet recovered from the shock of their defeat.

Handing the message back to the captain, Hafez told him to have all commanders meet him at the command post track in thirty minutes. When the captain was gone, Hafez stood up and looked around. He made note of the activity in his unit's perimeter and tried to estimate how long it would be before they could move. As he did so, he listened to the guns, not only those near his position but those in the distance. He made a mental note of how loud they were. In thirty minutes, if they were no louder, he would tell his commanders to stop all preparation and begin to move. If, on the other hand, the noise of the distant battle had not changed, he would have them continue their work. He hoped he would be able to tell them the latter. He was ready to attack, to hit the Libyans back. The sooner they struck, the sooner the 1st Army would be freed.

Regardless of where Cerro went along the edge of the escarpment, he could hear First Sergeant Duncan's voice. "Come on! Come on, sweethearts! Let's see some hustlin' over there. It ain't the bleedin' Salvation Army that's comin' up the road after you. Let's go — let's get motivated here and do some serious mine laying." Given the task of emplacing the hasty protective mine fields, Duncan was everywhere, directing and supervising. In some cases he had to show the soldiers on the detail the proper techniques for arming the mines. It wasn't that they weren't trained; the men on the detail had all had refresher training the day before. Fear, anticipation of battle, and haste, however, can crowd a man's head, multiplying the number of thumbs he has to work with. At these times it is the mission of the NCO and officer to ensure that their soldiers are held to task and doing those things for which they were trained and that will allow them to succeed — and survive.

In front of the position Duncan was doing just that. By example, encouragement, and direction, he was ensuring that the antitank mines were sited, emplaced, and armed properly. On the escarpment First Lieutenant George Prentice, the company XO, was busy moving ammunition and supplies around to the proper locations with one of the two hummvees. Cerro himself was walking from position to position with the platoon leader responsible for the positions. This was his third tour of the morning.

On the first tour Cerro simply had reconfirmed his initial platoon and antitank positions. He wanted to make sure that the planned positions, plotted on a map, conformed to the realities of the actual ground. On the second trip Cerro took his time and looked at each position, now being dug, to make sure that the positions were mutually supporting. He also looked for dead space to his front and flanks. When he saw such a spot, where direct-fire weapons couldn't engage an approaching enemy due to a fold in the earth or a small wadi, Cerro took action to cover it. In most cases he turned to his fire support officer, or FIST chief, and directed that an artillery target be plotted on the dead spot. In some cases Cerro directed the platoon leader responsible for that sector to shift one or more positions or weapons to cover the dead spot. Without fail the soldiers, often nearly done digging their first position, moaned and groaned when told they had to dig a new one. And without fail they did so, knowing that if they didn't, they'd lose their asses, if not to the Libyans, then to Cerro.

By 0830 Cerro had begun to make his third tour. Most positions were finished. Those soldiers not on other details were busy improving their positions. These inspections and checks were to the accompaniment of explosions in the distance. Naval gunfire and an occasional screech of a high-performance jet screaming overhead reminded Cerro and his men that this was not a simple training exercise. In Fuka, less than ten miles to the east, a Libyan armored brigade sat. Everyone had expected that brigade, a unit recovering from earlier battles, to attack quickly in order to eliminate the airhead. Since landing, however, the only contact Cerro's unit had had been when a pair of BRDM armored recon vehicles came thundering down the coastal road. Both had been chased off by scout helicopters, which destroyed one of them in the process. Other than that, Cerro's men had seen nothing of the enemy. Looking to the east, Cerro studied the pillars of smoke rising in the distance. The Libyans had not been so fortunate. The Navy and the 1st of the 11th Attack Helicopter Battalion had been working the Libyans over without letup. If they never saw a Libyan tank, that would be all right in Cerro's book. Though he was confident that they would be able to hold, Cerro felt no burning desire to put that theory to test.

Turning away from the east, Cerro began to go back to his inspection, only to be interrupted by an overflight of Apaches. He paused and looked up. Two OH-58C Scout helicopters, with four AH-64 Apaches on their heels, thundered overhead, headed to the east. The pylons of Apaches were heavily ladened with Hellfire missiles. They were after tanks. Cerro watched, waving as the helicopters went by in a symbolic send-off. "Give 'em hell!"

Mennzinger watched the infantryman below them wave. He returned the wave before turning his full attention back to the east. Over the radio the tactical air controller called the leader of a flight of Navy A-6 Intruders. He notified them that the USS Clancy had ceased firing, allowing the A-6s to roll in and commence their attack. They were going after an armor formation forming southwest of Fuka, the same one Mennzinger and his company were after.

It wasn't even nine o'clock and they were on their third mission of the day. Already the company was down two aircraft. One had been left in Egypt due to an engine failure. The second one was back at the rearm/refuel point. Hit by small-arms fire on its last mission, every other warning light was flashing. It would be a while before it was up and ready. At least, Mennzinger thought, they hadn't lost any of the crews yet. That was something. Question was, however, who would give out first, the remaining crews or the aircraft. Sooner or later they would have to stand down to rest the crews and let the mechanics pull some maintenance on the aircraft. One could only run a surge operation for so long before both men and machines burned out. A sixteen-million-dollar helicopter that went in because the pilot was tired and made an error in judgment was just as dead as a helicopter shot down by a surface-to-air missile. Mennzinger knew that at some point they would have to hand the battle off to the men on the ground.

The deciding factor would be time. So long as the Libyans weren't given the time to mass and stage a deliberate attack, the soldiers of the 2nd Brigade, 11th Air Assault Division would hold. So long as the airhead held, the tanks of the 16th Armored Division could make it. It was Mennzinger's job, as well as the Navy's, to make sure the Libyans didn't have time to mount a full-scale attack and the 16th Armored Division had time to cover the distance from Jebel Kalakh to Ras el Kenayis. In the end, it was the units of the 16th Armored Division that would determine whether the operation was a success or failure. The heavy forces, going toe to toe with the Libyans, would be the final arbitrator. Until then Mennzinger had to make time.

The order to swing his task force north and engage a Libyan armored force coming south was greeted by Dixon with little fanfare, little emotion. He had been expecting it. The trail element of the brigade, Dixon's task force had the mission of attacking or blocking any Libyan forces that threatened the brigade's flank.

The Libyan force, fifteen miles to the northeast, had been found by a scout helicopter screening the brigade's flank. Operating in relays so as not to expose themselves for too long, other scout helicopters of the division's air cav troop began to shadow the Libyan force. Given information about the Libyan brigade, including its approximate size, location, direction of travel, and speed, Dixon decided to remain in diamond formation. That formation provided him the best all-round security and the most flexibility. Regardless of how they ran into the Libyans, only one unit would make initial contact. That would leave Dixon the freedom to maneuver the rest of the task force as he saw fit.

Traveling with B Company, Dixon issued a short frag order to the task force. In effect, all he did was change the direction of their movement from the west to the north. Along with that shift, a battery of 155mm self-propelled guns from the 5th of the 8th Field Artillery Battalion also dropped off and followed the task force.

From his tank Dixon watched the task force pivot to the north. Operating from a tank in the middle of the formation had several disadvantages that made themselves quite evident as the turning movement progressed. In a position no higher than that of any other tank commander in the task force, Dixon could see no more from his tank than the most junior tank commander could. His view obscured by dust, distance, and the flatness of the terrain, Dixon could see at best half a dozen other vehicles. Most of those belonged to B Company, to his front, and the engineer platoon, to his rear. C Company, to his right, and A Company, to the left, were great clouds of dust. Only occasionally was a tank or Bradley from those units visible to Dixon. D Company, the mortars, the scout platoon, and all the flank guards were beyond Dixon's field of vision.

To see the battlefield, therefore, Dixon depended upon his com chin. With all this, and a pair of black Goretex gloves, he was protected from the sand thrown up by the tracks of his own tank and the others around him as well as from the cold.

The caliber .50 machine gun sitting in front of Dixon, slightly off center and to the right, was, by itself, an impressive weapon. On an M-1A1 Abrams tank, however, it is only the secondary weapon. The smooth-bore 120mm main gun protruding from the front of the turret like a great heavy lance was the true voice of the M-1A1. Its design was based on that of the German Rhein Metal gun used in the West German Leopard II. When engaging enemy tanks, it launched an armor piercing fin stabilize discarding sabot round at over five thousand feet, or roughly one mile, per second. This gun was coupled to a fire control system that took into account such factors as wind velocity at the tank's location, air temperature, ammunition temperature, cant of the tank, gun tube wear, tank-to-target range, and speed and motion of the M-1A1 and the target. To move the gun and its sixty-three tons the tank was powered by a turbine engine that put out fifteen hundred horsepower and delivered a governed top speed of forty-five miles an hour.

Anyone who ever had the opportunity to command such a weapons platform could understand the sheer childlike joy that tankers took when moving out smartly in their tanks. And because he took great pleasure from this seemingly unnatural act, Scott Dixon was immediately part of the task force, one of them. He didn't yet know the men by name, and hardly by sight. But they had a common bond, Dixon and all the other tank commanders of the task force. Their love of their tanks and their pride in being able to put steel on target with the first round while moving at thirty miles an hour transcended all ranks and ages. Whether he was a company commander, or the newly commissioned platoon leader, or one of the hard-core E-7 platoon sergeants, a tank commander was a tank commander. Riding with the other commanders into combat, following the lead company and standing tall in the turret, Dixon displayed his willingness to lead, his confidence as a tanker; he wore his spurs proudly.

Fifteen minutes after the brigade order sent Dixon's task force racing to the north, the scout helicopter reported that the Libyan force and Dixon's task force were closing. Coming over the auxiliary radio in his tank, Dixon prepared to respond but was beaten to it by the task force XO, Major Grissins, moving with the TOC. Grissins then put out a call over the task force command net, repeating the information for the company commanders. Each of them in turn responded by acknowledging the information.

Grissins, traveling to the rear of the formation, handled routine reporting from the TOC. Designated the second in command, or 2IC, he did everything to coordinate the staff and combat support elements so that Dixon, up front with the main force, could fight the battle. The task force S-3, in his tank and traveling with D Company, was prepared to assume command of the battle should Dixon lose communications or become combat ineffective. In armored combat that happened frequently. When in contact, the task force commander was often faced with the need to fight his tank or die. Control of the task force therefore passed back and forth according to who was most capable of directing the battle. There would be times when the task force S-3 had control, until he, like the commander, reverted to the role of tank commander. During the same period, the actual task force commander would come up on the net and resume control. The task force XO, sitting back out of the fight, kept track of the battle. When neither the commander nor the S-3 could, the XO commanded. If the commander, after a long absence on the command net, came back up on the net, the XO would give him a quick update and pass command and control back to him. Flexibility, an agile mind, and the ability to understand what was happening in a fight that could involve over a hundred armored vehicles fighting and moving in a ten-square-mile area were the keys to controlling a modem tank battle.

With contact imminent, Dixon could feel himself getting pumped up. Turning to his left, then his right, then all the way around to the rear, he checked to ensure that the formation, at least where he was, was ready. Feeling the need to say something to his commanders before battle, Dixon reached up and pushed the switch on the side of his crewman's helmet forward, activating the radio transmitter. His message was short and all business. He reminded all units that the first unit in contact was to be the base of fire, regardless who it was. The rest of the task force would maneuver on that company. Reports, Dixon reminded them, had to be quick, accurate, and complete.

Satisfied that all was in order, Dixon moved the switch to the rear position, activating the intercom on his tank. He was in the process of going over prepare-to-fxre checks with his gunner and loader when the C Company commander reported contact with a Libyan tank platoon.

Though his voice betrayed excitement and some confusion, the C Company executive officer provided all the information that Dixon needed to begin wheeling the task force into action. The Libyan force, coming out of the northeast, had hit C Company's flank guard platoon. That platoon was already deploying and preparing to return fire. The rest of C Company was doing likewise, forming up on either side of the flank guard platoon. Over the roar of his own tank's engine and through the earphones of his crewman's helmet, Dixon could hear the muffled crack of tank guns firing. They were in contact. The battle was joined.

From his position Dixon could see the tanks of C Company that had been to his right begin to veer off to the east. They were deploying. The tanks of B Company, to his front, were continuing forward, to the north. Without giving the problem much thought, Dixon contacted the B Company commander and ordered him to swing his company to the right, maintaining contact with C Company. Dixon stressed the need to maintain contact: the last thing he wanted was to have his own companies disappear into clouds of dust, get lost, and then pop out and be engaged by another American unit.

With two companies deploying almost head-on, Dixon decided to swing wide with the other two. Both B and C companies, twenty-eight tanks total, should be more than a match for the three Libyan companies with no more than thirty tanks total. It was the second and third Libyan battalions that Dixon was after with his remaining two companies. His idea was to form a large "L" with B and C companies as the base and A and D as the stem. By doing so he would create a kill sack and would be able to bring a crossfire onto the enemy. He quickly issued the necessary orders and received acknowledgments from all commanders.

Wanting to go with the maneuvering force, Dixon ordered his driver to move with A Company. The driver, buttoned up, could not see A Company's Bradleys. Rather than stop, he continued to follow B Company's tanks. Dixon was about to order the driver left when the gunner yelled out a target acquisition report. Though he knew it was more important to ensure that the task force deploy properly, Dixon couldn't resist the urge to fight.

Dropping down to his sight extension, Dixon saw not one but two Libyan T-62 tanks rolling south. From his current position, Dixon had a good oblique shot. Before issuing his fire command, Dixon stuck his head up to make sure another friendly tank wasn't about to mask his fire. Two tanks from B Company were close. To get two shots, he'd have to be quick.

Without further ado Dixon screamed out his fire command, slurring the words into one long one. "GUNNER-SAYBO-TWO-TANKS-RIGHT-TANK-FIRST!"

Neither the gunner nor the loader needed to understand what Dixon said. They were drilled and ready. Dixon hadn't even said the word "tank" before the gunner screeched "IDENTIFIED!" and the loader yelled "UP!"

With the word "up" still ringing in his ear, Dixon yelled "FIRE!" and immediately stuck his head out of the hatch.

There was a pause while the gunner made a final lay on the target and relased. Ready, he screamed, "ON-THE-WAAAY!"

When the gunner hit the y of "way," he squeezed the trigger. The 120mm gun discharged the round in the chamber, sending a quick jolt through the tank. Upon leaving the gun tube, the projectile released the propellant gases which created a muzzle blast that blew up a great cloud of dust and dirt, obscuring Dixon's tank and the tanks they were firing at. In the driver's compartment, the driver's vision was momentarily obscured, forcing him to drive blind. He was ready for that, however. As the gunner announced "On the way," the driver had made a mental image of the next fifty meters of ground and drove across it, in the dust cloud, on faith alone.

The momentum of the tank, and a wind blowing from north to south, quickly cleared the dust and dirt. The gun, held on the first target by the gunner and the tank's stabilization system, was pointing at a burning hulk. Without another thought Dixon issued his subsequent fire command, again slurring his words. "TARGET-FIRST-TANK-LEFT-TANK-FIRE! "

Again the gunner and loader stumbled over each other on the intercom as the gunner announced "Identified!" and the loader "Up!" As before, the gunner paused, relaid his sight's aiming dot onto the new target, lased, yelled "On the way!" and fired. As soon as Dixon's tank emerged from its own dust cloud, the picture of a burning tank filled the gunner's sight. "WE GOT HIM! WE GOT HIM!"

Masking his own joy, Dixon responded with a simple, matter-of-fact "Target, cease fire." That was, for Dixon, the extent of the celebration. He had had his fun as a tank commander. Now he had to get back to being the task force commander. Looking to his left and right in order to get his bearings, he was surprised to find himself out in front of B Company. The three tanks he saw to his left and right, marked with three white bands on their gun tubes, told him he was with the 3rd Platoon of B Company. All three were straining to catch up with their task force commander. Further to the left, more B Company tanks were moving to catch up with the 3rd Platoon tanks. In his haste to kill Libyans, Dixon had unwittingly dragged the whole B Company line forward with him.

Keying the radio, Dixon contacted the B Company commander, ordering him to halt his forward movement and form a base of fire. Conforming with Dixon's last order and following Dixon's tank, the B Company commander had pivoted on C Company instead of pulling abreast of it. In effect, that move took B Company out of the base of the "L" and put it in the stem. Dixon considered this, then decided to go with the situation as it was. It would serve no good purpose to have B Company back up. They were in good firing positions where they were. Best to leave them there.

Ordering his driver to hold, Dixon let the rest of B Company sweep by before turning his tank to the left and in search of A Company. As Dixon's tank moved north, behind the line of B Company tanks, Dixon watched them engage the Libyans. From the reports from both B and C companies' XOs, there was not much left of the Libyan tank battalion. Those tanks that were left were thrashing about in a kill sack swept by the crossfires of B and C companies.

Dixon saw in the distance a pair of Bradleys from A Company racing to join B Company. He had no sooner ordered his driver to head for the two Bradleys than the scout platoon leader reported that a mix of Libyan BMP infantry fighting vehicles and tanks was coming up on the right of the remains of the Libyan tank battalion. Sheer luck, Dixon thought — nothing but sheer luck was bringing the rest of his task force into position just as a Libyan mechanized unit was coming into action. And the fact that his Bradleys were going head to head with BMPs was icing on the cake. The 25mm Chain Gun of A Company's Bradleys would make short work of the Soviet-built BMPs while D Company took on the tanks.

Dixon joined the Bradleys just as the commander of A Company reported that he saw the approaching BMPs and was preparing to engage. Wanting maximum effort, Dixon ordered the D Company commander to continue his swing to the left, ensuring that he maintained contact with C Company. When the D Company commander gave Dixon a wilco, Dixon contacted the B Company commander, ordering him to shift the fires of at least one platoon to the northeast onto the approaching BMPs. Dixon finished his latest frag order by instructing B Company and C Company to finish the Libyan tank battalion and be prepared to move once the third Libyan battalion was found.

With the task force completing its maneuvers and A Company's Bradleys starting to fire, Dixon had little to do. Seeing the A Company commander's Bradley, Dixon ordered his driver to move into a slight depression next to it. Once they were there and had halted, Dixon ordered his gunner to search for targets. His gunner, anticipating the order, was already on one and responded with a sharp acquisition report. "ENEMY TANK AND BMP! TWELVE O'CLOCK!" As before, Dixon dropped down to confirm the targets. Satisfied, he issued his fire command, engaging the tank, a more dangerous threat, first. Without a single wasted motion, the gunner laid his sight onto the tank while the loader armed the main gun, cleared the path of recoil, and announced he was ready by yelling "UP!" Standing upright in the open hatch, Dixon ordered the gunner to fire.

As before, the tank was enshrouded in dust. This time, however, the dust took longer to clear, since Dixon's tank was stationary. As they waited for the dust to disperse, the A Company commander's Bradley fired its 25mm. When the dust finally cleared from Dixon's field of vision, he saw both the tank they had engaged and the BMP they were going to hit next burning. The A Company commander had apparently engaged and destroyed the BMP while Dixon was waiting for his dust to settle. Turning toward the A Company commander's Bradley, Dixon saw the young captain stick his head up to survey his handiwork. Facing Dixon, the captain had what could only be described as a shit-eating grin from ear to ear. Dixon smiled, nodded his head, and gave the captain a thumbs-up. The A Company commander returned the thumbs-up, then dropped down to search out more targets.

Boosting himself up onto the seat of his stand, Dixon stood as high as he could in order to survey the situation. To his left, or the north, he could see D Company coming on line, engaging the Libyan mechanized battalion as it did so. A Company's Bradleys were pumping round after round at the Libyan BMPs with telling effect. Here and there a Bradley let loose a TOW antitank guided missile at a distant Libyan tank. From behind them artillery rounds from the direct-support 155mm artillery battery screamed overhead. The artillery rounds — mostly improved conventional munitions and similar to the Air Force cluster bombs — scattered hundreds of tiny armor-piercing bomblets into the midst of the shattered Libyan formations.

As Dixon watched and assessed the situation, from C Company, then B Company, came the report that the Libyan tank battalion had been destroyed. Dixon considered moving both of those companies forward to join the fight but decided not to. The Libyan mechanized battalion had only a few minutes left. The only thing Dixon did do was to order the B Company commander to reposition the rest of his company to join in the engagement of the mechanized battalion. That order, however, was really unnecessary. Looking to his right, Dixon could see B Company tanks moving and swinging to the right, pivoting on A Company. Though that maneuver would mask C Company, Dixon did not stop it. He could now use C Company as his reserve force, maneuvering it as soon as the third Libyan battalion was identified.

Reminding himself that the fight wasn't over, Dixon contacted Grissins at the task force TOC, instructing him to get with the task force intel officer and the air scouts to find out where the third battalion was. No sooner had Grissins acknowledged Dixon's message than the task force forward air controller provided the answer. An Air Force captain who was the forward air controller followed the task force commander in an M-113 armored personnel carrier equipped with special radios, or FAC. Coming up on the net, he reported that two flights of A-16 ground attack aircraft had bounced the third battalion, a tank battalion, accompanied by an artillery battalion, before they had deployed. What was left of those two battalions was last seen by the A-16 pilots headed back north.

For a moment Dixon thought about pursuing the Libyans. He quickly dismissed that option, however. He had been ordered only to find and block the Libyan brigade. With two battalions wiped out and the third decimated and in retreat, the Libyan brigade posed no threat to the 3rd U.S. Brigade. Besides, if he pursued, Dixon would be moving into the sector belonging to the Egyptian 10th Mechanized Infantry Division. Since they weren't expecting him and he had no way of contacting them, such a move could lead to a fire fight with friendly forces.

Instead, he waited until all firing stopped. When all the companies reported that there was nothing left to engage, Dixon issued a new set of frag orders. The scout platoon was to screen to the north, watching in case the third battalion had a change of heart or more Libyan forces came down from the north. D Company was ordered to make a quick sweep of the battlefield, ensuring that there were no live tanks or BMPs mixed in with the dead ones. The other companies were ordered to stand fast where they were, reconsolidate, evacuate the wounded, and recover damaged vehicles.

The battle was over. The grim task of caring for the wounded and counting the dead now began.

Word that the 3rd Armored Brigade had made contact with the 2nd Brigade's airhead south of Cerro's position was greeted with mixed emotions. The young soldiers who had never seen combat were disappointed. First Lieutenant Prentice, noting that they had not had any contact all day, was bitter. "What was the point," he lamented, "in expending all this effort if we don't get to kill anything?" Cerro thought about talking to him about his attitude but decided not to. Later, when they were well rested, he would point out the grim realities of life, trying to impress upon Prentice that an operation such as this one, which achieved its goal without a major fight, was a double success: the enemy had been beaten with a maneuver, not a blood bath.

Neither officer, however, appreciated the fact that the link-up of the two American brigades did not mean the battle was over. Less than an hour before, the Egyptian commander, sensing that the Libyan attacks had run their course, ordered the 3rd Armored and the 10th Mechanized to commence the counteroffensive. Forty miles to the east, in the gathering darkness, a massive artillery barrage announced the beginning of that attack.

The Libyan forces were finished. After a day of attacking, they had been unable to penetrate the Egyptian line at Sidi Abd el Rahman. The air assault at Ras el Kenayis had severed their main line of communications with Libya and consumed their last reserve brigade at Fuka. With American forces operating at will on their exposed southern flank, pounding from the air and the sea without letup, the Libyans' collapse was inevitable and swift. Exhaustion, coupled with irregular rations, little water, and a loss of confidence, added to the general panic that ran through the ranks. Singly or in small groups, the Libyans abandoned their equipment and began to stream back to the west. Efforts by their officers — those who weren't fleeing themselves — to stem the westward tide were futile. The preparatory bombardment only served to hasten the slow and convince the few who had remained loyal up to that point to flee.

Leading the advance of the Republican Brigade from the vanguard, Colonel Hafez found the fleeing Libyans and the scores of vehicles they abandoned a great hindrance. At first his units engaged every Libyan they saw on sight. Soon, however, they discovered that doing so only slowed them down and wasted ammunition. Many of the Libyans tried to surrender. Hafez, however, didn't have the time for delays or surrender. His orders were to move fast, by passing resistance when and where necessary.

He therefore ordered his commanders to ignore any group of Libyans that offered no resistance and didn't appear to be a threat. He reminded them that their objective was not an impressive body count but the relief of the 1st Army. Ammunition was not to be squandered on defeated Libyans. It would be needed later, he told them, when they came into contact with the Russians sitting at Halfaya Pass and Solium.