Red Thrust: Attack on the Central Front, Soviet Tactics and Capabilities in the 1990s

CHAPTER 3 Tank Attack: The Charge at Pressbach

Captain Pavel Krylov's head slumped forward, colliding with the target designator sight in front. His padded tanker's helmet protected his forehead, but the sudden jolt woke him up. The inside of his T-80M tank was pitch black, and it took him several seconds to remember where he was. Over the earphones in his helmet came the noisy crackle of an incoming message.[17]

"Vorona One, Vorona One, come in please. Sokol Three here, over."[18]

It was the voice of his 3d Company commander, Lt. Vladimir Vasilev. Krylov adjusted the throat mike on his helmet, and turned on the overhead turret light so he could see the adjustment controls on the tank's R-123M radio. The audio level was too low. After three days of fighting, Krylov had suffered some hearing loss from the incessant noise.

"Sokol Three, this is Vorona One, over."

"Vorona One, I've been trying to reach you for two minutes. We have a visitor, near the left clearing. Shall I engage? Over."

Krylov realized he was so exhausted he simply hadn't heard Vasilev's

initial radio calls. It wasn't good radio discipline to continue to repeat calls. Vasilev should have sent a runner. Something must be urgent. Krylov got on the tank intercom.

"Pavel, what do you see down by the clearing?"

The tank gunner, Sgt. Pavel Ossopovich, looked through his passive night sight. The vehicle was nearly a kilometer away. The sight depended on moonlight, of which there was precious little that night. It was damn difficult to determine precisely what the vehicle was. Then, for a moment as it moved, it was silhouetted against the skyline. A thin barrel. A scout vehicle, not a tank.

"Comrade Captain, it looks like a scout vehicle of some sort."

"Is it one of ours?"

"Comrade Captain, it does not appear to be ours. It has no night position lights on. Shall I prepared to engage?"

Krylov, still a bit groggy from his interrupted sleep, thought for a moment. He had not been informed of any Soviet scouts being sent out in front of his position. It was not like the regiment not to inform him of activity in his area. Still it could be a straggler. Or a NATO vehicle hunting out the location of his unit for an artillery strike or attack. It would be prudent to eliminate the threat. He switched to the radio.

"Sokol Three, you are closer. Engage the hostile, over." Krylov expected to hear the sharp report of the neighboring tank's gun. There was nothing but silence.

"Vorona One, we have problems, over."

Krylov reacted quickly. He switched from radio to mike. "Pavel, we will engage." Then he switched from the personal to the professional. It would be straight battle drill, without pleasant familiarities. "Gunner, hard core… target, 850 meters." [19]

Krylov heard the ammunition carousel under their seats make its usual whirring sound. The automatic loader was seeking out an antiarmor projectile from the different types of ammunition available. The steady metallic clanking of the autoloader continued. Instinctively, Krylov moved rightward and pulled his coveralls taut. The autoloader mechanism would sometimes catch on the uniform of the unwary, and slam the hapless crew into the gun breech along with the ammunition. With two hard smacks, the autoloader pushed home the projectile, followed by the propellant casing. The whole operation took about ten seconds. Krylov heard his gunner on the mike.

"Hard core, loaded… engaging target."

Krylov braced himself for the blast. The big D-81TM 125mm gun fired, shaking the entire tank. Krylov lost his night vision as the sky in front of the tank filled with the enormous muzzle flash. The huge mass of the gun slammed backward in the tank, spewing out a metal stub casing into the hopper — the tiny remnant of the ammunition.

"Gunner, report."

Ossopovich had closed his eyes as the gun had fired, and now looked into the sight. The target had obviously been hit, since it was burning fiercely. In seconds, the vehicle exploded.

"Target destroyed, Comrade Captain."

Krylov was content that his gunner had hit the target with only a single round. But he was bothered about its identification. No other enemy vehicles seemed present. He decided to walk over to the neighboring tank rather than compromise radio security any further. He radioed the nearby tank.

"Sokol Three, Fm coming over."

"Vorona One, understood, out."

Krylov climbed out of his T-80M. It was still dark outside, but there

was enough moonlight to make out the dark shape of the neighboring tank. Lieutenant Vladimir Vasilev was already out of the tank and standing by the side.

"Vladimir Sergeivich, what was the problem?"

"Captain, it was the ammunition. As it was going into the breech, I noticed the propellant casing was smeared with oil. It could have misfired in the gun. We'll have to clean it out."[20]

"I'm glad you caught it. Look, we'll have to send someone down to that vehicle once the fire has lessened. Let's find out what it was. Send one of your tanks, and tell them to be careful near the tree line."

As they were speaking, a UAZ-469 jeep pulled out of the woods behind them with its faint night driving lights on. As it approached, Krylov recognized it as one from Yastreb (hawk), the code name for the 65th Guards Tank Regiment, to which Krylov's 18th Guards Independent Tank Battalion was attached for this operation. Krylov's battalion had been kept in reserve by the commander of the 18th Guards Motor Rifle Division for use at an opportune moment.[21]

Apparently that moment had come. The damp October weather, the jarring ride of the past three days of hard road marches, and the stress of command had taken their toll on Pavel Krylov. He was thirty-four years old and had been a captain for three years.[22]

His career was unexceptional. He had come from a traditional Russian military family. His father, a tanker like himself, had served in the final year of the Great Patriotic War. Krylov's unit had been stationed in Czechoslovakia before the war. It did not have the newest equipment, neither the T-72MS nor the T-84A. But the T-80M was a good tank. Its turbine engine gave it a great deal of power, and its armor was relatively effective in stopping NATO antitank missiles.

His battalion was typical of most Ground Forces units in the Central Group of Forces. About 60 percent of the unit was Slavic — mainly Russian, but a significant number of Ukrainians and Byelorussians. These troops usually caused the least problem. At least they could speak decent Russian! They were not the brightest he had ever known; the "prestige" services usually siphoned off the bright ones for technical services and the star athletes for special forces. Krylov's battalion was left with the average and below average. Their training was adequate by Soviet standards. His deputy, Sr. Lt. Nikolai Gorin, had made certain they had passed the mandatory field trials. Maybe they had cut a few corners in training, but then everybody did.

Krylov's battalion had been moved to the vanguard yesterday afternoon, the third day of the war. It had been three grim days of waiting. The division had moved across the Czech-German frontier near Klatovy in the early morning of 30 September. The terrain of the Bavarian woods favored the defenders. Their main opponent was supposed to be the 4th Panzergrenadier Division (the German equivalent of a Soviet motor rifle division). But the encounters were so sporadic and vicious, it was very difficult to tell exactly who their opponents were. Most of the captured prisoners were from reserve territorial brigades, not from the regular Bundeswehr. They were not especially well equipped, having mostly old M113 troop carriers and old model Leopard 1 tanks. But they did have the deadly little Milan antitank missiles.

The forest was too thick in most places for tank traffic, and most of the traffic was canalized down forest roads. As a result, it was fairly easy for the Germans to set up ambushes. The worst were the hidden missile squads. They were like lice. You just couldn't lose them.

A Soviet column would move down a forest road. Sometimes the lead vehicle would be hit by missile fire. Other times, the Germans would wait until the column had passed and would open fire with Milan missiles from the rear. The division had tried everything. Heavy artillery bombardment was futile. The forest deadened any artillery fire, and the Germans were usually dug in. The motor rifle division dismounted their infantry from their BMP-2 infantry vehicles and sent them forward along the edge of the forest, with the vehicles farther to the rear. This lead to heavy firefights with German infantry, from prepared positions in the woods. While the Germans were usually overcome, the process was long and costly. The division was far behind its schedule.

The 18th Guards Motor Rifle Division was supposed to reach the Danube River south of Regensburg by the end of the second day of fighting. An advance element of the division had in fact reached the river late the previous night. But it would take at least another day to bring up the divisional bridging equipment, which was strung out back to the Czech frontier. The 65th Guards Tank Regiment (GTR), to which Krylov's battalion was now attached, had been sent down the main road to Deggendorf in an attempt to seize bridges over the river. The divisional commander hoped that a plunge southward might save him the time and cost of a risky river crossing operation. But the divisional commander expected heavy fighting for Deggendorf. So he planned to send Krylov's battalion on a parallel course through some small roads east of Hunderdorf to try to reach the Danube in a less conspicuous location. If the main assault failed, or if the Germans blew the bridges, he would have an alternative location to launch a river crossing operation.

For the first two days of the war, Krylov's battalion had seen little fighting. The battalion was held in divisional reserve, and moved forward in march formation behind the advancing units. In a way, it was a more demoralizing experience than actually being in combat. The roads were littered with the debris of war. Most sickening of all, it was mostly Soviet equipment — burned and shattered BMPs, tanks, and trucks. Sometimes, the medical units had already cleaned up the area before his tanks rolled past. But often, Krylov's tanks rolled past the scene of fighting that had concluded less than an hour before. The sights and smells of the burned wreckage and mutilated bodies were numbing.

Krylov's battalion had first seen combat on the night of 1 October, two days before. The battalion was used to support an attack by the 65th GTR near a small town. The terrain was finally opening up a bit, although it was still forested, and rather hilly. The Germans were equipped with Leopard 1 tanks. Although it was pitch black, the Leopards had begun firing at Krylov's battalion from their positions near a small copse. Obviously, they had passive night vision sights, since there was no evidence of infrared searchlights. His T-80M tanks had passive sights as well, but it was difficult to pick out targets against the dark tree line. His tanks were crossing a field, and the contrast was enough to enable the Germans to see his unit. He instructed his unit to use their infrared searchlights in white light mode, switching to infrared. The sudden glare of the searchlights temporarily blinded the Germans' passive night sights, and the infrared searchlights made the task of locating the Germans all the easier. The searchlights also made the Soviet tanks very obvious, but they heavily outnumbered the German tanks. After about a half hour of fighting, the Germans withdrew, leaving behind four Leopard 1 tanks in flames. Krylov's unit had lost three tanks and suffered damage on one more.

The third day was tense and uneventful at first. The 65th GTR moved forward, and Krylov's 18th GITB (Guards Independent Tank Battalion) remained in reserve awaiting further instructions.

The day was spent putting the tanks in order and helping the divisional recovery teams with 65th GTR tanks disabled in the previous night's fighting. In the late afternoon, the battalion was ordered forward to assist in another night attack. Only two companies were involved, since the terrain didn't favor the commitment of all five of the battalion's companies.

The fighting that night went very badly for Krylov's unit. He had committed the 5th Tank Company, commanded by Yuriy Dmitryev, and the 1st Company of Nurken Abdirov.

Dmitryev's company stumbled into a position defended by an enemy tank platoon. The Germans had opened fire at 2,000 meters, well outside the normal visual range for passive night sights. Dmitryev had tried the same trick as the night before, illuminating his opponents with the tank's searchlights in the hopes of temporarily blinding their night sights. By the time they recovered, his company should have covered half the distance to their objective. Unfortunately, the enemy tanks were not using passive night sights, but thermal imaging sights. They were not blinded; to the contrary, the sudden use of searchlights only made Dmitryev's tanks more obvious. In short order, all ten tanks from the company had been hit. Abdirov's company attempted to respond, but began being hit by guided antitank missiles.

The T-80M is fitted with reactive armor, and the initial strikes by the missiles harmlessly exploded the reactive armor.[23]

But Abdirov's crews had never seen reactive armor go off at night. The effect was spectacular. The bricks on the turret front exploded from the impact of the missile, but the explosion deflected the missile blast, preventing the missile warhead from penetrating the tank. The blast rocked the tanks, which startled several crew members, who thought their tanks had been mortally wounded. The crews were edgy, since survivors from the 65th GTR had warned them that they had only a few seconds to abandon a tank once it was penetrated. It had become painfully obvious that Soviet tanks blew up rather easily. Actually, Abdirov's tanks had not been penetrated, but the flash, noise, and lack of experience led to panic. Three tanks that had been hit were abandoned by their crews. Two more tanks were hit and halted. The remaining tanks moved forward, but in the confusion could not find Dmitryev's wounded company. The fighting ended around 2000, with the enemy withdrawing.

Krylov's battalion was ordered to halt for the night and await orders. Krylov drove up to the clearing where Dmitryev's company had been hit. Of the ten tanks in the attack, four had received solid turret hits, which had resulted in internal explosions. All the crew had been killed almost instantly. Three tanks had suffered hull penetrations, but at least part of the crews had been able to abandon the tanks. Two tanks had received hits in the engine compartment and suffered mild fire damage. One had been hit in the track and was immobilized. There was nothing Krylov could do to recover the damaged tanks. He supervised the surviving company members as they tried to locate the wounded and the survivors. His deputy battalion commander and political officer, Sr. Lt. Nikolai Gorin, cleared up the situation with the badly shaken 1st Tank Company. The 1st Company commander, Nurken Abdirov, was the only Kazakh officer in the battalion. Gorin did not have a high regard for him, although his men found him to be a competent and tough officer.

Krylov ordered the companies to adopt a nighttime defensive position in the hilly area near the site of the earlier skirmish. The tanks were to be kept away from the woods, for fear of German troops sneaking up at night with antitank weapons. They were to position their tanks with clear lines of fire toward the woods, but all were warned to place the tanks in hull-down with only the turret above the hill contours. It was an elementary precaution that the crews should have naturally adopted. But Krylov knew his men were exhausted by the four hours of road march and the unexpected skirmish.

The crews had nearly two hours of preventive maintenance work before they could bed down. Krylov longed for the days with the old T-62s. They were not as complex, and had four-man crews. The daily maintenance chores were simpler and there was an extra man to help out. The T-80s had only a three-man crew. Their autoloader, improved fire controls, and transmission required much more careful maintenance. And, because of the autoloader, there was one less man to do the work. The real problem in the unit was boresighting the guns. The D-81TM 125mm tank gun was an awesome weapon, but a bit big for a forty-two-ton tank. When it fired, the whole tank reeled. The severe recoil knocked around the fire controls, and could bash the gun out of boresight. If not dealt with, the tank gun lost accuracy at longer ranges.

Some of the battalion had managed to boresight their guns the previous morning after the first skirmish. But not all. And now the 1st Company had been involved in the night's fighting, maybe knocking their guns around a bit. At night, it was too awkward to try to do any boresighting, so Krylov just tried to put the issue aside. The 1st Company had not used much ammunition, but he made certain they filled up their autoloaders for the next day's likely encounters. As a last measure, Krylov checked to be sure that the companies put out sentries. Each tank was expected to keep one of its crewmen awake for guard duty on hour-and-a-half shifts. Every third tank kept one man at the passive night sight, with the tank powered up.

At about 0300, early on the morning of 1 October, Captain Krylov curled up as best he could inside his T-80M tank to try to get some sleep. There were probably another thousand things to check on, but he would need his sleep for the next day's fighting. It was from this sleep that Krylov had been awakened moments before, due to the unexpected enemy patrol. And now there was a visit from the regimental staff to deal with.

The visiting jeep screeched to a halt near the T-80M tank. Krylov recognized the officer as Capt. Maksim Denisov.

"How are things, Pavel Ivanovich?" enquired the captain.

Krylov was surprised he even remembered his name. "A bit tired, Captain Denisov. So what brings you here?"

"We're planning a major attack today, Comrade Captain, and your battalion will be used in full strength. Come on over to my villiys and I'll explain your orders."[24]

Both officers entered the rear seats of the UAZ-469. It was still dark outside, so the staff captain brought out a small flashlight to illuminate the maps.

"We think we finally have the Germans broken in this sector, Captain Krylov. One good push and the road should be free over the Danube at Deggendorf. We should be able to push our reserve motor rifle regiment into the gap, and into the better country beyond. Your assignment is to overwhelm the German positions in the area west of this main approach. At the same time, our regiment will be attacking on a parallel course farther east. When you have secured this ridge line, in Pressbach, your battalion will swing slightly to the right and grab a position astride the river. If we take some bridges at Deggendorf, we won't need to launch a river crossing here. But you never know. This river crossing is vital to the success of our operation."

Captain Denisov handed Krylov a 1:50,000 scale map of the area, and continued his instructions. "The situation is as follows. Your battalion is currently on the fringe of this woods. Beyond the woods is a shallow depression, a bowl if you will, about a kilometer across. Above the valley is a low ridge, about seventy-five meters higher than the depression. There's a small clump of farm buildings there. The ridge continues about two kilometers westward to another rise, where the village of Pressbach is located. We have reason to believe that the village is held by about ten enemy armored vehicles. There are seven or eight tanks, and some infantry transporters. This was the unit your troops encountered last night.

"Colonel Rudnitskiy suggests the following. "You are to move your battalion into the depression, which will give your battalion room to spread out and prepare battle formations. There are two roads leading into the depression. You may have to fight for the clearing, but we think the main enemy defense is on the second ridge, where the village is located. "You should keep one company in reserve, split up between the farm buildings on your right flank at Hill 320 and the farm buildings at the crest of the first hill in the center of your position. You should probably consolidate your Yashcheritsa missiles with this unit to give you overwatch coverage.[25]

The three remaining companies should be spread out, with one moving out of the depression to the left of the main farm, and the other two moving between the main form and Hill 320. Move at top speed. Once you have moved out, the enemy will undoubtedly begin firing on you. Keep moving. You have 2,500 to 3,000 meters to cover. Your overwatch company can probably knock out three or four of the enemy tanks. Don't begin slowing down to fire until you are about 1,000 meters from the enemy. And make sure you know where they are before you begin engaging them.

"Once you have overrun their position, police up the area, and move your battalion south to the edge of the river east of Bogen. The attack will start at 0700. You should have your battalion in the clearing by 0630. We will give you a little artillery prep on the village, but frankly, it won't accomplish much. Any questions?"

"No, Comrade Captain, it's quite clear. But let me ask you this. The tanks my companies encountered last night were not the usual Leopard 1s. They seemed to have thermal sights. Are we facing a Leopard 2 unit, or some new tank unit in the sector?" "Comrade Captain, you forget that the Germans have been modernizing the old Leopard 1s. Some of the rebuilt vehicles do have thermal sights. We have no evidence of any other unit in the sector. But it is possible we will encounter American M1 Abrams a bit farther west beyond Regensburg. Is that all?"

Krylov nodded and crawled out of the back seat of the jeep. He had no time to waste. The regiment obviously expected him to move his battalion through the woods at dark, and into the clearing at just about daybreak. He was not happy with the idea of moving into the woods in the dark. But from the looks of the map, the two roads leading into the woods were very narrow— too narrow for Milan missile teams. The Milans needed a good 350 meters before they could be sure of guidance. Besides, Captain Denisov seemed to know that the Germans had pulled back to the Pressbach Hill. Krylov radioed his four company commanders to meet at his tank promptly. He also instructed them to have their crews off-load any Yashcheritsa missiles from their tanks and pass them over to the tanks of Lieutenant Abdirov's company.

The small group gathered behind Captain Krylov's tank. Lieutenant Abdirov saw the battalion political officer, Senior Lieutenant Gorin, and moved to the other side of the circle. Captain Krylov brought out the area map and hung a small electric lantern on the cradle for the rear fuel drums.

"Comrades, we'll be setting off for our objective by 0600, so we have to make this meeting brief. Our objective is a ridge about four kilometers to the west, just beyond this woods. Regiment informs us that the nyemtsi have pulled back beyond the woods and are occupying the village of Pressbach on the ridge. It's not really a ridge so much as a slight rise. At 0600, we move out from here in two columns. Lieutenant Bogdanov will take the lead with 2d Company through the center part of the woods. The 1st and 3d Companies will follow. Lieutenant Larikov will take 4th Company around the northern end of the woods and move down this path. At 0630, I will give you a radio signal to begin moving into this depression here. It is possible that the enemy has forces in these farm buildings near Hill 320, and over here in the farm at the center of the area. Expect trouble. If we come under fire, the lead elements from 2d and 4th Company will have to deal with it quickly.

"Once we're safely out into the bowl, we will take up battle formation. We are going to attack in a line formation with 2d, 3d, and 4th Company. Nurken Ivanovich, your 1st Company is going to serve as overwatch. When we move out of the bowl, you divide up your company in two, half over here at Hill 320 and half here in the main farm. You keep us covered with missile fire."

Krylov could see that the little Kazakh was upset.

"Comrade Captain, I am very sorry for the shameful performance of my men last night," said Abdirov. "I can assure you that it will not happen again. You do not have to fear for the valor of my men. We would be pleased to be in the vanguard of the attack."

Krylov realized that the honor of the Kazakh had been offended. "Comrade Lieutenant, I did not select your company to play the overwatch role because of the troubles last night. That kind of action can be expected from inexperienced troops in difficult circumstances. I picked your men because your company has consistently done the best of our battalion in gunnery exercises. As we all know, you have more crew with tank sniper distinctions than any other. We are depending heavily on you for our safety. Regiment insists that we use a fest approach to the objective. Hold the firing until we close to 2,000 meters. We have to get in close and wade into the enemy positions. We cannot afford to engage them in long-range duels from a halt. So in each of your companies, let one platoon halt their fire around 2,000 meters, while the other two platoons continue to close with the enemy at top speed. Don't use smoke unless you really need it. Abdirov, you will be responsible for destroying as many German tanks as possible while we make this approach. "Your fire must keep their heads down."

Abdirov was a bit concerned when Captain Krylov mentioned the use of smoke mortars. If any of the tanks did use smoke, it would make his job of providing overwatch much more difficult. The smoke might obscure the target. But Abdirov, never prone to question the instructions of his superiors, was even less so after the embarrassing performance of his company the night before.

Before the meeting had concluded, a tanker from Vasilev's company approached the group. "Comrade Captain, I wish to report."

"Proceed," replied Krylov.

"Comrade Captain, we attempted to inspect the wreckage of the enemy vehicle. It appears to have been an American vehicle of some sort from the markings on its parts. The damage was too great to tell exactly what it was."

Krylov concluded it was probably an American-built M113, in German service, which they had been encountering for the past few days. (Had he seen the thin barrel, as had his gunner, Ossipovich, he would not have come to this conclusion.)[26]

He ended the meeting.

"Is everything about our objectives understood?… Fine…. Mount up and let's move. The regiment and the division are counting on us to take these positions."

Krylov used the foothold on the right side of his T-80M to lift himself up. The back of the tank was littered with tarps and equipment, so he had to clamber over the reactive armor bricks to get to the turret roof. He tried to be careful not to dislodge any of the bricks. These funny little blocks could save his tank.

The hatch was open, and his gunner nodded when he climbed into the turret. Krylov hadn't realized how bad the inside stank. There was the Ungering smell of cordite from the firing earlier, mingled with the smell of sour soup and sweat. He had spilled a ration of soup on the floor, and by now it reeked. He plugged the cord from his helmet into the tank intercom and radioed the driver to start up the tank. The T-80M began with its characteristic whine. Krylov stood up on his seat to see how the rest of the battalion was doing. There was just about enough light to see the dark silhouettes of the tanks. A few hatches were open, and a pale blue light shone out. Most of the tanks had their small formation lights on. The drivers had switched on their infrared driving lights, unseen to the naked eye, to guide themselves through the dark.

The tank column winded its way through the woods, Krylov's tank about five tanks back from the head of the column. As the lead tank approached the opening into the bowl, it halted. Lieutenant Bogdanov got out, as did Krylov, and walked along the woods to the opening. The terrain in front was ploughed farmland. There was considerable evidence of armored vehicle traffic, crisscrossing the fields. To the left, the outline of a large farm could barely be seen in the early morning mist. There was just enough light to see the other, smaller form at the foot of Hill 320 on the right side. Krylov had a pair of image-intensification night vision binoculars, and used them to survey the high country in front of his tanks. He saw no evidence of enemy forces on the rise in front of him, but then even if they were there, he probably wouldn't be able to see them.

Moving out of the woods would be risky. Krylov told Lieutenant Bogdanov to move out a single platoon of tanks very quickly, and to fire then smoke grenade launchers as soon as they cleared the opening, in order to create a cloud in front of the opening. If they were engaged, they were to eliminate the opposition. At this point the rest of the battalion would exit. Krylov radioed Lieutenant Larikov, whose company would be pushing out of the other road to the right near the foot of Hill 320. He was to follow the same procedure.

At 0630, the two platoons came charging out of the woods, spraying out smoke grenades. There was a slight ground fog, and the flowering smoke grenade cloud blended imperceptibly into it. The action did not seem to elicit any fire from the main farm, but when Lieutenant Larikov's platoon turned around the edge of the woods, a few antitank missiles came in their direction.

Two hit, but the reactive armor panels defended the tank against penetration. What was odd is that the missiles struck the roof bricks, not the usual front or side bricks. Larikov had heard of top-attack missiles, but this was the first he had seen of them. Larikov's platoon fired into the farm buildings near Hill 320 with high explosive, and after a dozen rounds, they halted. No more missile fire came from the farm. Larikov radioed to Krylov that his men had spotted two armored vehicles pulling back from the main farm. He said they looked to him like American Bradleys or German Marders, not M113s. Krylov thought for a moment, worrying that the unit they faced might be a fresh American or German armored unit, and not the remnants of the roughed-up German territorial brigade they had been fighting. He hoped this wasn't the case.

With the bowl safe, the battalion moved forward. When the war had started, the battalion had numbered fifty-one T-80M tanks.[27]

There were ten tanks in each of the five companies, plus Krylov's command tank. Each of the companies had ten tanks — three platoons with three tanks each and the company commander's tank. Three companies in formation would stretch out about a kilometer and a half. The battalion was down to thirty-seven tanks. Ten tanks had been lost when Dmitryev's company had been wiped out the previous evening, and four other tanks had been lost in other fighting or due to mechanical problems.

The usual battle formation was three platoons in line, about fifty meters between each tank.

There would be thirty tanks in the initial attack, stretched out over a distance of about one and a half kilometers. The 2d Company, commanded by Sr. Lt. Leonid Bogdanov, was expected to use the gully to the left of the main farm to approach the Pressbach Hill. The 3d and 4th Companies would attack across the main pastures. They would have the toughest time. Krylov would follow these two companies.

At 0700, the tank crews heard the sound of outgoing artillery. It sounded like Grad 122mm rockets rather than tube artillery.[28]

The rockets smashed into the village on the rise three kilometers to the west. At this signal, Abdirov's divided tank company moved out in the lead to occupy overwatch positions at the two farms. The remaining three companies followed suit once Abdirov's tanks were about 300 meters in advance.

Abdirov reached the main farm first, and was the first battalion officer to get a clear picture of the battle area. The objective, the village of Pressbach, was clearly visible across the neat farm fields. Abdirov was a bit taken back by how flat the terrain was after all the trouble getting through the woods. The area in front of Pressbach was completely open, with little opportunity for cover except for a few small dips in the ground. The battalion would have a rough time getting across the terrain if the enemy was well entrenched. Abdirov saw little evidence of enemy activity in Pressbach. The rocket barrage had started a few small fires and left a good deal of dust hanging over the village. Abdirov watched his crews skillfully select good sites with clear fields of fire. There was not a lot to hide behind, except some rubble from the damaged farm buildings. But at 3,000 meters, the enemy would have a hard time hitting his unit's tanks.

The other half of Abdirov's company, commanded by Sr. Sgt. Vasily Levchenko, reached the small farm near Hill 320 at about the same time. They began moving into the wreckage of the farm buildings, but came under missile fire from the neighboring woods. The enemy antitank gunners had not been destroyed, only driven back by Larikov's earlier tank fire. One T-80M was hit in the rear in the engine, and the fuel began burning fiercely. The crew managed to get out, but came under small arms fire from the woods on Hill 320. Levchenko swung his tank toward the woods to face the enemy with the heaviest array of steel and explosive armor.

Another missile struck tank 421, but the blast was deflected by the reactive armor. A third missile hit the top of the engine deck of tank 422, setting it on fire. Levchenko, and Sergeant Shmurian in the other surviving tank, opened fire on the woods. The enemy missile teams distracted them from their main mission of providing overwatch coverage for the main attack. But if they abandoned their defensive positions the missile teams might very well catch them exposed and knock them out as well.

No one was paying any attention to the fighting around Hill 320. All eyes were on the main attack toward Pressbach Hill. As Krylov had feared, the unit they faced was not a spent German territorial mechanized infantry brigade, but the lead element of American reinforcements from the 1st Armored Division. The Americans facing them were two platoons of M1A2 Abrams tanks (the improved version of the M1A1, with depleted uranium armor), two M3A2 Bradley cavalry scout vehicles, and a platoon of M2 Bradleys with infantry. The people giving Levchenko's tanks so much trouble were the infantry platoon. The American force was located mainly on the eastern edge of Pressbach. Their tanks had had plenty of time to pick good firing positions, and the higher elevation of the town offered further advantage. The American tankers were outnumbered about four to one, eight tanks to fewer than forty. But their tanks were better, and they held terrain advantages.

The Americans also enjoyed a bit of support. As the 18th Guards Independent Tank Battalion came spilling over the rise and onto the fields in front of Pressbach, the Americans called in artillery. The American commander had surveyed the scene, and had noted the gully to the southeast of his position. He decided to try to block it by requesting some artillery scattered mines. He also requested a lighter concentration immediately in front of his position, to the northeast. If the Soviets noticed the mines, they would tend to move to the center of the town, where the heaviest concentration of American forces was positioned. The artillery dropped a load of FASCAM antitank mines in the two locations in front of Pressbach in the moments following the arrival of the Soviet tanks.[29]

Krylov's battalion saw the overhead airburst of the FASCAM, but, tightly buttoned up in their tanks, had no precise idea of what the airbursts were. The FASCAM strike was followed by some desultory salvoes of ICMs (improved conventional munitions). The ICM submunitions are grenades about the size of a film canister. They contain a small shaped charge that is large enough to punch a hole through the roof armor or engine deck of a tank. A lucky hit can start a fuel fire or break a track. But American troops had grown fond of them since they could be used to strip Soviet tanks of their reactive armor.

Krylov's concentration was upset by the sounds of explosions around him. The enemy's artillery was firing the much detested ICM rounds at them. Krylov saw the explosive panels on several tanks explode, but the tanks continued on, unimpeded. He hoped that no crews would panic like Abdirov's had done the night before.

The ICM attack was not decisive, but it was more than just a nuisance. Two tanks were hit on the fenders, and an ICM explosion shattered a track link. The tanks were moving at about forty miles an hour, so the split track quickly broke loose, embedding one side of the tank in the soft farm field. One other tank suffered a small fuel fire from an ICM hit, and at least three more had some reactive armor panels explode. The exploding panels did not cause the confusion of the night before, if only because in the daytime the crews could more easily see that their tank had not been mortally wounded. Combat in the daytime is far less frightening than at night.

Abdirov's tanks at the farm attempted to provide fire support for their attacking comrades, but the level of dust, smoke, and mist made it difficult, if not impossible, to pick out any targets at first. Abdirov hoped the situation would clear up once the enemy began firing.

The two American tank platoons held their fire as the Soviets charged forward. At about 2,500 meters, the Abrams began probing the Soviets with their laser range finders. Although they could hit tanks at such a range, the probability of penetration was reduced. As the Soviet tanks began approaching the 2,000-meter range, the American tanks began firing.

The Americans could clearly see the Soviets, since they were using their thermal sights, even though it was daytime. The turbine engines at full power kicked up an infrared exhaust plume, which silhouetted the tank against it when viewed through a thermal sight. The first salvo of eight 120mm APFSDS (armor-piercing fin-stabilized discarding sabot) rounds struck in rapid succession. There were seven hits of eight shots. Five hits were kills; the victims exploded in oily fireballs. Two other hits stopped the tanks, but failed to ignite internal stowage.

The APFSDS ammunition used by the Americans hits the tanks at a speed of a mile per second. The depleted uranium rod smashes its way through successive layers of steel, ceramic armor, and more steel. The projectile enters the tank hull like a gory sparkler, spewing a supersonic stream of incandescent metal fragments into the interior. The fragments ricochet off the inside armor of the tank, mutilating the crew and igniting flammable material.

The T-80 tank is an explosion waiting to happen. In the bow, there are fuel tanks on either side of the driver. At the rear of the fuel cells are stowage points for some of the spare ammunition.

The large carousel in the floor contains the remaining twenty-three rounds of ammunition in two layers, with the propellant on top. Behind the carousel is another fuel cell, and more ammunition. Once the propellant casings are ripped open and begin to burn, the tank is doomed. The propellant is difficult, if not impossible, to extinguish without an automatic fire extinguisher system. The Soviet system is manual. Once one propellant casing begins to explode, nearby casings begin cooking off in rapid succession. The large quantity of combustible materials, and the ferocity of the metal shards from the APFSDS projectile, create a volatile combination in the inside of the tank. A catastrophic explosion often follows after a few seconds of small-scale fires.

Trapped inside the thick shell of armor, the fragile humans are smashed and burned beyond recognition in the first moments of the horror. Such was the fate of the fifteen men in the first wave of tanks to be hit.

Following the first American volley, the M1A2 Abrams tanks fired their smoke grenade launchers. The whole area in front of the town was obscured in a dense cloud of white smoke. The Americans had effectively blinded the Soviet tanks, which did not have thermal sights and could not see through the smoke. The Americans could see through the smoke, and continued to fire.

Krylov's battalion was now down to twenty-one tanks in the attacking waves, and six more back at the forms. He watched in dismay as the enemy blanketed his positions with smoke. By now, the Soviet tanks were less than 2,000 meters from the town. Retreat was unthinkable, since the Americans would probably continue to engage his tanks anyway. The only thing to do was press forward as rapidly as possible, and hope that the smoke would lift.

The American tanks continued firing volleys into the Soviet formation. Krylov was slightly behind both companies and could clearly see the frightful toll the enemy was exacting against his unit. He felt helpless as the attack churned forward. Krylov's forward-looking periscope and little side periscopes gave him a restricted view of the battlefield. He saw one tank from 2d Company in front of him get hit. It exploded almost immediately, the turret being hurled backward and skidding to the ground only a few dozen meters in front of his tank. His tanks pressed on, anxious to get close enough to begin firing. The smoke and dust were still too thick to clearly make out the enemy positions.

By the time the smoke cloud began to dissipate, Krylov's battalion was less than a thousand meters in front of the enemy positions. Since they had first come under fire from the enemy tanks, sixty long seconds had passed. The American tanks could fire at a rate of four to ten rounds per minute. The eight enemy tanks had pumped out a total of thirty rounds at the twenty-one remaining Soviet tanks. In some cases, more than one round hit the same tank. After the second and third American volleys, nine more Soviet tanks were destroyed, and two were damaged. Two more blew up when they ran over FASCAM mines. There were now only nine tanks closing on the American positions at 1,000 meters range.

Krylov's tank was to the rear of the remaining nine tanks. They were badly scattered over a width of a kilometer. The enemy tanks were still not very evident, but Krylov began to spot them as their guns fired. The muzzle flash was quite bright, lasting less than a second, but it kicked up a great deal of dust, which lingered in front of the tank and made it easier to locate. Krylov was concerned that Abdirov's company was providing no fire support.

The Soviet tanks, anxious to revenge the losses around them, had picked out their targets. The T-80s slowed down to get a better aim and fired in rapid succession. Of the first nine rounds fired, four hit American tanks. Their aim was not as good as the Americans' aim, simply because they could see only the enemy's turrets, not the whole tank. Of the four hits, two American tanks were disabled but not penetrated. One tank was hit in the rear turret ammunition bin, and began burning furiously. The other round hit the elevated commander's cupola on one tank, ripping it off and severely injuring the tank commander. The five other shots had impacted in the ground in front of the American positions, or had flown high or wide of the target. The T-80 did not have full three-axis stabilization, and firing on the move was always less accurate than from a stationary position.

At close range, the American tanks began firing at the Soviet tanks with renewed fury. The Americans had a much easier time acquiring targets, not simply because their FLIR (forward looking infrared) sights could see through the smoke and debris, but because the Soviet tanks were out in the field in clear view, silhouetted against the remnants of the white smoke cloud. In rapid succession, six Soviet tanks were smashed by two more American salvos. The American tankers fired a great deal faster than their Soviet opponents, and in a given time could engage more targets. Two of the American tanks fired more smoke grenades, which further blinded the surviving Soviet tanks. The Soviet tank attack collapsed.

Krylov's gunner took aim for a second time, but the tank was jarred by a sudden explosion on the left side. Krylov and the other two crewmen were badly shaken by the blast. The tank careened out of control for a few meters, coming to rest in an irrigation ditch with its barrel jammed into the soil. It took a second or so before Krylov realized that the tank had not been penetrated. He phoned down to the driver.

"Sasha, where were we hit?"

"Comrade Captain, we've lost a track on the left side, maybe a mine! We're stuck, Comrade Captain. I can't move the tank."

Krylov's tank had run over one of the FASCAM mines that had been dropped by artillery fire at the outset of the fighting. The T-80M was sitting only a few hundred meters in front of the American positions. Krylov could see at least one burning American tank, and saw the muzzle flash of another tank uncomfortably close. With the gun disabled and inoperative, Krylov used the intercom to tell his crew to abandon the tank. He grabbed a stubby AKS-74U carbine and flung open his hatch. The sight behind him was appalling — dozens of shattered and burning tanks. In the confusion of the battle, Krylov's crew managed to get free of the tank without being spotted by the Americans. The M1A2 Abrams tanks were preoccupied with the remnants of the Soviet tank battalion that were still in the fight.

It took several minutes for the smoke and dust to settle. The U.S. tank force was down to four tanks, with the other four either damaged or knocked out. But the Soviet battalion had been mauled far more severely. Six tanks from Abdirov's company remained to the rear near the two farm buildings on either side of the field. Of the thirty-one tanks that had charged Pressbach Hill, all but three had been knocked out. These three began to move gingerly back toward the farms. Abdirov's tanks moved forward from the farm, firing at a steady pace. They had little chance of hitting the American tanks, but hoped to distract their attention away from the retreating survivors.

Of the thirty-one tanks, about twenty-four had suffered catastrophic fires or severe battle damage. The other seven had tracks ripped off by mines or had been hit in the engine compartment. One of the retreating tanks stopped long enough to pick up Krylov and his crew. They clambered on board the hot engine deck.

The three surviving tanks were able to escape the carnage in the Pressbach pastures, because the fires and smoke made it difficult for the American tankers to spot them. The American tanks were methodically attempting to pick off tanks that had been disabled but not burned: A few of the T-80s that had been disabled by mines were still firing back at the American tanks, and Abdirov's company continued their vain attempt to hit the Americans at very long range with missiles in spite of the difficulty in seeing them. Krylov arrived back at the farm with two surviving tanks at about 0815. He ordered Abdirov to prepare his tanks for a possible counterattack by the enemy forces.

He looked out over the Pressbach pasture and could hardly comprehend what had happened.

His battalion, hours before at near full strength, now lay smashed and burning. Under a miserable gray German sky, the fields were littered with shattered tanks. A dozen oily black fires boiled up a kilometer away, punctuated by an occasional explosion as more ammunition cooked off. Survivors continued to make their way back in small groups through the morning, but Krylov was well aware that most of his men had probably been killed. The final fighting had taken place at such close range that nearly all of the tanks that had been hit had burned. Crews who were unable to escape in the first thirty seconds stood little chance of survival. If the turret was swung at the wrong angle, it could block the escape of the driver. The turret crewmen each had their own hatch, so more of the gunners and commanders escaped than drivers.

Krylov tried to reach the 65th GTR, but was unable to do so. Finally he connected with a divisional radio net. The 65th GTR had been roughly treated as well. Krylov was told to maintain his position and prepare to attack the objective again. He told the divisional staff in no uncertain terms that his unit was unable to do so, and would be hard-pressed to hold the two forms against a NATO counterattack. In the late afternoon, some motor rifle troops in their BMPs arrived to set up defensive positions. It had been a miserable day. Krylov was told again to prepare a counterattack for 1600.

Discussions about the conventional balance of power in Europe almost always begin with the issue of Soviet numerical superiority in tanks and other weapons. As this fictional scenario suggests, numbers alone are not a complete indicator of combat power. The quality of the weapon systems is an important factor, as is the situation in which they are used, the training of the crews, and the leadership of the units. The scenario described here — a Soviet tank battalion attacking a prepared defensive position across open terrain — is a situation that favors the NATO defender. But as the fictional account suggests, factors relating to the quality of the opposing weapons had a decisive effect on the outcome. The Soviet tankers were expecting to encounter a force equipped with equivalent or inferior tanks, but in fact faced a force with qualitatively superior tanks.

This raises several questions. How do Warsaw Pact and NATO tanks compare? Do NATO tanks have any decisive advantages over Warsaw Pact tanks? Why do they have these technical differences? This discussion will focus on two specific tanks, the Soviet T-80M and the American M1A2, in an effort to come to grips with these questions.

The most immediate impression one would get from seeing these two tanks side by side is their difference in size. Although both tanks are about the same width and length, the M1A2 is fitted with a massive, boxy turret. The T-80M is squatter, and its turret is a good deal smaller. The

M1A2 tips the scales at more than sixty-five tons. The T-80M is a good deal lighter, weighing in at a bit over forty-five tons.

Why the great difference in weight? There is a popular notion that Soviet designers build their tanks small to make them smaller targets. This seems to make sense, but misses the real reason. As mentioned in the first chapter, the Soviets are intent on maintaining a large armed forces, capable of handling any combination of enemies. A large army inevitably means a need for a great many tanks to equip the two hundred or so Soviet divisions. Indeed, to fully equip its divisions, the Soviet Ground Forces require in excess of 55,000 tanks. And with technology rapidly advancing, tanks have to be replaced every decade or so with new designs incorporating the latest improvements. This costs a lot of rubles.

The larger the tank, the heavier it is. The heavier it is, the larger an engine it must have. The larger an engine, the more fuel it must carry. The more fuel it must carry, the heavier the tank. This is the vicious cycle that drives up the cost of tanks. The bigger, heavier, and more complicated the tank is, the more rubles it costs. The Soviets have attempted to put a ceiling on tank costs by placing tight weight and size constraints on their design; therefore, Soviet tanks have traditionally been smaller and lighter than comparable NATO designs. When NATO tanks were in the fifty-ton range in the 1950s, Soviet tanks were in the thirty-five-ton range. In the 1970s, the Soviet tanks weighed in around forty tons, with NATO tanks around sixty tons. Yet the Soviets are not content simply to have smaller tanks. They also want tanks that are as well armed, as well protected, and as mobile as their NATO counterparts. What kinds of miracles do Soviet designers conjure up to combine good combat qualities with size and cost constraints?

The Soviets have accepted design compromises that would be unacceptable to any NATO army. To begin with, Soviet tanks are incredibly cramped. The U.S. standard is to design vehicles for the "95th percentile" soldier. In other words, tanks have to be big enough to accept 95 percent of today's soldiers, including those a bit over six feet tall. Soviet tanks are so small, they are usually crewed by troops under a height of about five feet six. Our fictional Soviet tankers, Pavel Krylov and his men, would be shorter than average NATO tankers. This might not seem like that much of a sacrifice, but in older tanks, these small tankers were expected to load fifty-five-pound projectiles into the breech of the gun. While this is possible, it is not surprising that the main gun on a Soviet tank is loaded at a slower rate on average than that on a NATO tank, and so it is fired less often. On newer tanks, the T-80M, the loading problem became so serious that an automatic loader was introduced. Indeed, the Soviets are the first to make widespread use of automatic loaders on main battle tanks. The automatic loaders add to the complexity of the tank, but they keep down the size of the tank and indirectly contribute to keeping down its cost.

Other compromises have been more extreme. Soviet tanks store a good deal of their fuel in external fuel cells over the track. Soviet tanks are mostly diesel powered, and diesel fuel is not as flammable as gasoline. But it does burn. The external tanks are protected with only enough armor to prevent penetration by small arms fire. The NATO tanks store all then-fuel within the protective main armor of the tank.

The proximity of all this fuel and ammunition also leads to a propensity to serious fires if the Soviet tank is hit. A tank like the T-80 has fuel and ammunition stored in the front of the hull, followed by a large ammunition carousel on the floor, with more fuel and ammunition behind the carousel. The propellant casing for the ammunition is semiconsumable, making it more prone to rupture than the older style brass or aluminum casings. Ammunition propellant is probably the greatest single fire hazard on board the tank. It contains its own chemical oxidant, so that once it ignites, it is difficult, if not impossible, to stop the fire. In contrast, most of the ammunition in the

Ml Abrams is stored in a locker at the rear of the turret, separated from the crew by blastproof doors. If the ammunition begins to burn, the fire is contained to the turret rear, away from the crew. The American tank is also fitted with an automatic Halon fire extinguishing system. This elaborate compartmentalization is impossible on Soviet tanks, since every last cubic inch of space must be filled with some bit of machinery or stowage.

Israeli tankers have found from combat experience that Soviet-designed tanks have a greater likelihood of catastrophic fires after being hit than most other tanks. The Israelis have operated American, British, and their own designs, and have singled out the vulnerability of Soviet tanks in this regard. Aside from the immediate effect of leading to heavier tank losses, this vulnerability has long-term effects as well. The Israelis have found that modern tank warfare is enormously destructive of equipment. Of the 450 tanks in service with frontline Israeli tank units at the beginning of the 1973 war, 75 percent were lost in the first eighteen hours. Many of these losses were due to minor damage that could be quickly repaired. But tanks that suffer serious internal fires are less likely to be repairable, and are less likely to be capable of being returned to combat service. For example, in the 1982 war, of the 1,000 Israeli tanks participating, about 300 were knocked out by combat damage; of this number only about 75 were too badly damaged for repair.

The tight cost constraints forced on Soviet designers also affect the durability of their tanks. Soviet tanks (and many other Soviet weapons) are not as durable as their Western counterparts. For example, Soviet tank engines have a much lower life expectancy than American or British engines. Soviet tank gun barrels have about a quarter the life expectancy of American tank gun barrels, about 120 rounds versus 400 rounds. This lack of durability has little effect in wartime, since tanks have a great likelihood of being knocked out long before their parts wear out. But it does have a major impact on Soviet training.

The lack of equipment durability, and the high costs of fuel and ammunition, conspire against rigorous training in Soviet tank units. In peacetime, Soviet tank units do not have all their vehicles operating at one time. There are strict limits set on the number of hours a Soviet tank can be used in order not to prematurely wear it out. So a unit will keep a portion of its tanks in mothballs for part of the year, operating only a fraction of them at any one given time. Then the tanks that had been in use will be put in storage and the other tanks drawn out for several months of use. This means that on a day-to-day basis, Soviet tankers are less likely to get hands-on experience with their vehicles.

Funding constraints also limit the amount of ammunition fired in peacetime training. An American tanker will typically fire more than a hundred rounds of ammunition annually. Soviet tankers, depending on the priority of their unit, will fire as little as a tenth of this amount. The relative lack of training with live ammunition does not foster critical combat skills, such as the need for speed in battle engagements. The usual training standard for Soviet crews is sixty seconds to engage and destroy a target at a range of 2,000 meters. This consists often seconds for the commander to identify and designate the target to his gunner; twenty seconds for the gunner to lay the gun on target, perform the necessary gun adjustments, load the gun, and fire the first round; then fifteen seconds each for two more rounds of ammunition to ensure the destruction of the target. The NATO norm is closer to fifteen seconds, about a quarter the time. The reasons for this enormous discrepancy are both better training and better equipment, and more experienced crews.

The NATO crews tend to receive more training than comparable Soviet crews, as discussed above. The NATO tanks also have decided advantages in equipment. The new generation of fire control equipment is more automated on NATO tanks than Warsaw Pact tanks, making it simpler to use. Where the Soviet fire control system requires multiple manual input to adjust gun elevation, the NATO system, like that on the Ml, requires very few. This is evident in the biannual Canadian Army Trophy (CAT) competition held in Germany among NATO tank crews. The tanks are expected to engage a variety of targets, at various ranges, both from a halt and on the move. Over the past decade, scores have continued to rise as the new generation of tanks, such as the Leopard 2, Ml Abrams, and Challenger, have entered service. In the case of the Ml Abrams, crews have consistently scored hits more than 90 percent of the time, firing in less than twelve seconds after the target popped up. Certainly the CAT competition tends to involve specially selected "Olympic" teams, and it might be expected that ordinary teams are a good deal less proficient. Yet NATO has found that the new generation tanks have been so well designed that the disparity in scores between CAT teams and ordinary teams is not that great. While the better CAT teams might engage and destroy targets in less than twelve seconds, normal crews average about fifteen seconds.

Another factor benefiting NATO tank crews compared to their Soviet counterparts is the matter of experience. The Soviet Ground Forces are a conscript force, and unlike NATO armies, the Soviets do not have a professional NCO core in their army. Soviet soldiers serve their two-year hitch and are back to "civvy street." As mentioned in the previous chapter, very few enlisted men remain in service beyond their two-year hitch. As a result, skills built up during this time are lost when the tanker returns to civilian life.

The NATO armies, on the other hand, especially the U.S., German, and British armies, encourage senior enlisted men to remain in service as sergeants. These armies have a tradition of strong NCO roles, with the NCOs performing many functions that in the Soviet Army would be done by low-ranking officers. In a technical field such as tanks, long-term experience has important effects in ensuring continuity and quality in crew performance. Tanks are usually commanded by sergeants, and experienced sergeants will perform better in critical battle skills than inexperienced tankers like the Soviets who, at the most, have been in tanks for eighteen months.

The Soviets are not unaware of this problem. In 1988, Marshal Akhromeyev visited U.S. army bases, including Fort Hood, the largest American tank base. The American officers who accompanied him were surprised to see that Akhromeyev showed little interest in the equipment, even the spanking new Ml Abrams tanks. What Akhromeyev was curious about was the details of service life for the enlisted men. He seemed surprised to meet sergeants with nineteen years of duty. The Soviets appreciate the limitations of their enlistment system, especially these days when weapons are becoming more and more complex. Akhromeyev's interest was probably sparked by Soviet plans to reinstate the critical institution of professional NCOs.

Although Soviet tanks have a good many technical drawbacks, Soviet armored vehicle designers have been remarkably ingenious over the years. The Soviets were the first army to employ infentry fighting vehicles (the BMP), the first with smooth-bore tank guns (T-62), the first with fin-stabilized armor piercing ammunition, and the first with tank autoloaders. Shortcomings in Soviet tanks are seldom the result of a lack of technological ability; they are more often the result of tight economic restraints. A good example is the matter of thermal imaging sights. As suggested in the fictional scenario, thermal imaging sights can have a dramatic effect on the modern battlefield, especially when one side lacks them.

It is surprising to find that the Soviets do not currently use thermal imaging sights, especially since they pioneered night fighting equipment. The Soviets were the first army to make widespread use of active imaging night searchlights in the 1950s. But by the time the next generation of night fighting equipment came into being, the Soviets were already falling behind.

In the late 1960s, the U.S. began fielding the second generation of night fighting equipment, called image intensification, or passive nightscopes. The first generation systems used searchlights with infrared beams, invisible to the human eye. But they were not invisible to simple detection devices. So a tank using an active infrared searchlight was very visible to an enemy tank equipped with an infrared viewer. The second generation passive sights avoided this problem. Instead of relying on a searchlight for illumination, they depended on the faint natural light that exists on all but the darkest nights. By amplifying the slight illumination of the stars and moonlight, they enabled tanks to see at night. They are sometimes called "Starlight" scopes for this reason. With passive sights, the tank didn't give away its position.

The U.S. developed this technology, but eventually Soviet tanks came to be equipped with these sights. Indeed, Soviet tanks to this day rely on passive image intensification sights for night fighting. The T-80M uses a passive night gunner's sight. The main drawback of passive starlight sights is that they do require some ambient natural light. On evenings that are completely overcast, there is often not enough light for these sights to work. And unfortunately in Europe, there are many overcast nights.

In the early 1970s, the U.S. developed the first practical thermal imaging sights. Like starlight scopes, thermal imaging sights are entirely passive and do not require a searchlight. However, the technology is entirely different. Rather than sensing and amplifying natural light, thermal imaging sights pick up natural infrared energy, or heat, and create a video picture from it. Tanks, trucks, and humans all are slightly warmer than the natural background of earth and trees and, through a thermal imaging sight, will tend to stand out in distinct contrast to the background. This makes thermal imagers (also called FLIRs) ideal as tank sights. Not only do they enable tankers to see at night, but they highlight the sort of objects that tankers are most concerned about — other tanks.

The other distinct difference between thermal imaging sights and the two earlier generations of night sights is that thermal imaging sights are also useful during the daytime. Thermal sights can pick out the difference between tanks and background in daytime just as easily as at night. Even though a tank has a perfectly good daytime telescopic sight, in fact this is an enormous advantage. Modern battlefields are smoky, dusty places. Burning vehicles fill the air with thick clouds of oily smoke, hiding many objects from view. Also, modern tank guns, because of the enormous blast of their muzzles, kick up a great deal of dust and debris when firing. A tank with a thermal sight can see through much of the smoke and other obscurants on the modern battlefield.

Thermal imaging sights are a revolutionary development in tank fighting, in much the same way as radars were for aerial combat four decades ago. They make tanks all-weather, day and night weapons. They enable tanks to fight in conditions that would have otherwise been impossible. And they have interesting tactical implications. A force equipped with thermal sights, when encountering a force without such sights, can hide itself using smoke grenade launchers. While the tanks with thermal sights can see through the smoke, the other side cannot. And so the poorly equipped units are especially vulnerable, because they cannot return fire against their smoke-cloaked opponent. This is what occurred in our fictional scenario at Pressbach.

Why don't Soviet tanks have thermal sights? There are two reasons: cost and technology.

Thermal sights are extremely expensive. A fire control system incorporating a thermal sight can easily cost a quarter of a million dollars. On a tank like the Abrams, this is about 10 percent of the total tank cost. On the cheaper Soviet tanks, it would be an even greater fraction of the cost. The U.S. is planning on building about 7,000 Abrams tanks over the course of about ten years. The Soviets build that many tanks every two years. Thermal sights on these tanks are a luxury that the Soviet Army has so fer not been able to afford. The Soviets are capable of building thermal sights. Indeed, they have such sights on their attack helicopters and thermal pointers on certain fighter aircraft such as the MiG-29 Fulcrum and Su-27 Flanker. But thermal sights require very expensive manufacturing techniques. In the field of electro-optics, the Soviets have had real difficulties in mass producing many of the key high-tech electronic components. As a result, these components go to high-priority weapons like fighters and helicopters before they go to tanks.

The Soviets will probably eventually adopt thermal sights on some of their tanks. But given the sheer number of tanks needed to equip the Soviet Army, it will take the Soviets a much longer time to equip a significant portion of their force with this feature. By then, the U.S. and NATO may be adopting the next generation of multisensor sights with millimeter wave radars. The technological contest will continue. But at the moment, NATO has some important tactical advantages.