Team Yankee

CHAPTER TEN Red Dawn

Just prior to dawn, Colonel Reynolds accomplished what the Poles had not been able to, stop Team Yankee. Bannon was sure the colonel would haveliked to let the Team keep going if he could have, but that was not possible. The colonel found it necessary to stop them, just as Bannon had been compelled to rein in the 3rd Platoon as it had forged out ahead of the Team. From the reports on the battalion command net, Bannon could tell all was not going well.

While Team Yankee had been able to achieve complete surprise and scatter the Polish units directly to its front, those Poles who had been to the left and right of the penetration did not panic or flee. Instead, they attempted to close off the penetration as soon as Team Yankee and Team Bravo had passed through. Apparently C and D companies' lack of tanks encouraged the Poles to try. Their initial efforts were successful as they greeted the appearance of C company with a deadly crossfire. The garbled and fragmented reports given by Cravin over the battalion net betrayed his confusion and panic.

The battalion XO, who had been following C company, reported the situation and his actions to the colonel. D company was deployed into positions from which they could support C company. The XO was still in contact with the German battalion and was able to get them to add their support to the growing battle. Once a firm base of fire had been established and friendly artillery began to enter the fray, he moved forward to rally C company and reopen the breach.

His efforts, however, were rewarded with a direct hit on his track when it reached the place where C company had gone to ground. The D company commander reported the loss of the battalion XO to Reynolds. He then informed the battalion commander that he was taking over the battalion's rear battle and requested further orders. Unable to contact the C company commander and sensing that the entire operation was in jeopardy, Colonel Reynolds ordered Team Yankee to stop where it was, instructed Major Jordan to stay forward with Team Yankee, and then turned Team Bravo around and led them back to hit the Poles in the rear. The day that had begun so well appeared to be turning against the battalion.

The order to halt and take up hasty defensive positions threw Sergeant Polgar. For a minute he thought that the Team Commander had made a mistake. The 3rd Platoon leader thought the same, for no sooner had Bannon stopped talking, than Lieutenant Garger came back and asked him to repeat his last transmission. A little agitated at being so questioned, Bannon made it a point to repeat his instructions slowly, in such a way as to ensure that they would not be misunderstood. As each of the platoon leaders responded back to the Team Commander with an acknowledgement, Polgar noted the difference between the two tank platoon leaders. The 3rd Platoon leader was clearly upset with his commander for stopping the mad dash that the 3rd Platoon had been leading. Polgar wanted to get on with the attack himself, especially since they had such a clear advantage over the enemy. But he was an old soldier and realized that Bannon would not have stopped their forward movement unless there was a damned good reason to do so. The new platoon leader of the 2nd Platoon, on the other hand, sounded as if he were relieved to get the order halting their drive. Not that he could be blamed. The U.S. Army had a tradition of being rough on second lieutenants. It had to be hell on the new lieutenant, being assigned to a unit in the middle of a war and then going right into an attack like this. Polgar couldn't remember the new lieutenant's name, not that it really mattered. He definitely had not impressed anyone so far. The fact was, there was a lottery going around the Team among the enlisted men betting on how long the new lieutenant would last once they went into action. The big money was on two days. Some bet it would be hours. Polgar had been one of the more optimistic. He had his bet riding on three and a half days.

As the Team's tracks settled into positions along an east-west road and cut off their engines, the sun began to rise. Bannon watched the horizon change from black to a deep red. He was reminded of the old saying, "Red sun at night, sailor's delight. Red sun in the morning, sailor take warning." The sun that was greeting Team Yankee this morning was blood red. Watching the great red orb rise in the east, he silently prayed that this was not an ill omen.

Once the Team was set, Bannon turned his attention to Team Bravo and their progress as that unit retraced its steps. The colonel prepared to hit the Poles with everything he had available. He called the battalion's artillery fire-support officer and designated targets he wanted hit and when they were to be hit. He instructed the D company commander to get with the Germans and see if they would support the battalion's maneuver with fire. Finally, based on information provided by the D company commander, he gave Team Bravo and D company their orders.

His plan was simple. Hold the attention of the Poles to their front with D company and the Germans, pin the Poles with artillery, and hit them from behind with Team Bravo. D company and the Germans played the anvil, the artillery and Team Bravo played the hammer. The plan proved to be as effective as it was simple. The violence that had smashed their initial attack; their failure to destroy C company; the weight of the firepower of D company, the Germans, and 'the artillery; and the violence of Team Bravo's attack to their rear finally broke the Poles. One of the surviving Poles grimly observed that the Americans and Germans had used so much firepower that even the sun had been hit and was bleeding.

Forty kilometers east of Team Yankee's hastily assumed positions, a Soviet tank company commander was about to finish briefing his platoon leaders when he noticed how red the morning sun was. For a brief moment he reflected on its significance. Pointing to the solar orb, he told his gathered platoon leaders that the Great Motherland to the east was sending a red sun as an omen to them. The company commander promised his gathered leaders that if they performed their duties as they had been trained and adhered to the great truths that were the pillars of strength to true Communists, the red dawn that they were witnessing would be the end of the imperialist dreams in Europe and the beginning of a new socialist era. Dismissing them with a salute, the company commander turned away from his platoon leaders and headed for his tank.

As he walked back, he wondered if any of his platoon leaders had believed the line of horseshit he had just served them. He turned for a moment, looked at the red sun, then heaved a great sigh. It wasn't important if they did or not, he thought. The political commissar had been pleased with his outpouring of propaganda. Perhaps that miserable party hack would stay out of his way for the rest of the morning, leaving the serious business of killing Americans in the hands of the professional soldiers. The Soviet captain began to smile. The political commissar is happy, we are finally going to get a chance to kill some Americans, and, if we're lucky, some of those worthless Poles will get in the way, and we can run them down. This truly was shaping up to be a great day.

The end of the Poles did not signal an immediate resumption of the battalion's attack. This had been C company's first time under fire, and the experience had been shattering. The battalion commander informed Major Jordan that it would take anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour to sort out the tangled mess that the three companies had become. In the meantime, the divisional air cavalry troop was going to recon forward to find out what the Soviets were up to. That suited Bannon just fine. He was becoming tired of stumbling around like a blind man waiting for the Soviets to hit the Team. Let the cavalry earn their pay.

As it was now obvious that the Team would be here awhile, he began to scrutinize the lay of the land and the Team's dispositions. Ahead, across the road along which they were deployed was a long valley about ten kilometers wide. Wooded hills rose sharply on either side. Immediately to the Team's left was a small town named Issel. As he looked at the town through his binoculars, Bannon could see no sign that it was occupied. There was the possibility that the Soviets had cleared the village prior to the attack in order to maintain operational security. There also was the possibility that they had left someone behind to observe the area and report on the American advance. It was this second possibility that worried him.

After a quick consultation with Major Jordan on the battalion radio net, Bannon ordered the 2nd Platoon to get into a position from which they could place effective fire onto the town. As they were preparing to do so, he dismounted and walked over to Polgar's track to give him his instructions. With the tanks overwatching his move, Polgar was to take his platoon into the town and check it out. The Mech Platoon really didn't have the manpower to do a thorough job. But at least they could check out the more obvious places and keep anyone who was there busy for awhile. Besides, at least this way some of the Team would be doing something useful. This last point was most appealing to Polgar, who did not like the idea of sitting out in the open waiting for some hotshot Russian pilot to come along and fire up his platoon.

Since there was no chance for surprise, Polgar stormed into the town mounted and with the pedal to the floor. The four PCs rolled into the center of the town square where the infantry dismounted and began to conduct a systematic search of the buildings. The dismounted infantry worked in three-man groups, one group on each side of a street with their PC following down the middle ready to support them with machine-gun fire if they ran into trouble.

The teams conducting the search all followed the same pattern when they entered a building. One of the soldiers would peep into a window to see if there were any obvious signs of occupants. Once they had done so, the three would converge on the door that they would use for entry. One man would continue to watch the street and the house across the street lest they become so involved in the building they were about to enter that an unseen enemy came up from behind and surprised them. The other two men, one on either side of the door, would prepare themselves for forced entry if necessary. At first, all the teams tried kicking the doors in. They soon found, however, that this could be a painful experience.

Besides, many of the doors had been left unlocked. After bouncing off of a few doors that refused to be kicked in, they all began to try the doorknobs first. This routine had been going on for thirty minutes when there was the muffled report of a Soviet AK followed by the detonation of a grenade. Polgar ran up to the house where the shots and explosion had originated. He was greeted by two men coming out of the front dragging a third. The PC that had been overwatching this team roared up to the front of the house and began to fire its M2 machine gun at the windows along the second floor. Polgar covered the three men as they made for the rear of the PC, then followed.

Once safely behind the PC, the two men watched for a moment as the medic ripped open their wounded comrade's chemical protective suit and tore away the T-shirt to get at the wound. A quick check showed that the wounded man had taken two rounds in his left shoulder. The wound was painful and bloody, but wouldn't be fatal.

When they were satisfied that their friend was in good hands, they reported to Polgar. The soldier who had been wounded was the point man for the group. They had cleared out the ground floor of this particular house and found nothing. It was when the point man had started up the stairs to check out the second floor that the shooting had started. The first volley hit the point man, sending him tumbling back down the stairs. The two men ran up to help him, one man dragging away the wounded point man, the other throwing a grenade onto the second floor to cover their withdrawal. None of the men had seen anyone or anything.

By this time a squad leader and two other teams had gathered around the PC. Polgar directed the squad leader and one of the teams to circle around back and cover the rear of the house in case someone tried to slip out. He ordered another team to stay with the PC to cover the front of the building. They were also to be prepared to reinforce the team that would clear the house. He would personally lead the two men who had first entered the house back in to deal with the unseen enemy.

After getting a rundown on the layout of the ground floor, the three-man assault party moved back to the front door. As before, two men, one of them Polgar, stationed themselves on either side of the door. This time, however, the third man leaned over and threw a grenade into the opened door. As soon as the grenade went off, Polgar and the man across from him went charging into the house, guns leveled and blazing away. Once inside, the men sought the nearest cover available and waited to see what happened. When nothing happened, Polgar signaled for the third man to enter and cover him as he approached the stairs. He slowly began to climb the stairs, always peering up to see over onto the second floor. When he was halfway up the stairs, Polgar halted, took a grenade off of his web gear, pulled the pin, and threw it into the room at the head of the stairs. As soon as this grenade detonated, he charged to the top of the stairs, taking two steps at a time and firing as he went. Once he reached the head of the stairs, he threw himself into the room where he had thrown the grenade and, as before, sought cover.

Just as Polgar began to get up, a yell to halt came from his men outside. This was followed by the sound of two M 16s firing in the rear of the building. In an instant he realized that the people they were looking for in the house had tried to slip out through the rear and had been caught by the team sent to the back of the house. As the other two men with him came up the stairs and began to check out the other rooms on the second floor, Polgar went to a window overlooking the rear of the house and peered out.

In the small yard, two of his men were standing over the body of a young German boy, sprawled in a small flower bed, bleeding from several wounds. An AK rifle was still in his lifeless hand. For a moment it reminded Polgar of a similar scene in Vietnam some fifteen years earlier. One of his first fire fights had involved a VC unit that consisted mainly of fourteen- and fifteen-year-old boys. That experience had been a rude introduction to war, one that often haunted his dreams. He knew what his men were experiencing. "Is he dead?"

One of the soldiers standing over the body looked up and saw Polgar looking down. "Yeah.

He wouldn't stop when I yelled to him to halt. Kind of young to be running around shooting at people, Sarge."

"Just remember, Patterson, that sorry piece of trash was old enough to put two holes in McGill and would have done the same to you if he had had the chance."

Patterson looked at his platoon sergeant for a moment, then down at the dead German boy.

After another moment of reflection, he reached down, picked up the AK, and went around to the front to continue the house-by-house search.

Polgarfs report on the Mech Platoon's contact didn't really surprise Bannon. His only regret was the discovery that the town was populated by a lone fanatic who couldn't have hurt the Team. The price of a casualty hadn't been worth the results.

Impatient and anxious to find out how much longer they were going to sit there, Bannon dismounted and walked over to the battalion S-3's track to find out what Jordan's best guess was. His PC was nestled in a large hedgerow that separated two fields. The troop door on the back ramp was open as was the cargo hatch on top. Bannon stopped at the door and saw Major Jordan seated across from his radios, arms folded and chin resting on his chest. He appeared to be sleeping.

"Must be nice to have a cushy staff job where you can take a nap three times a day."

Without moving a muscle or opening his eyes, Jordan replied, "Bannon, someday when you grow up, and I trust you will, you'll appreciate the fact that we old folks need to conserve our energy."

"Oh, is that what you call it? Conserving energy? Back home we call it sleep. "

"Shit, don't they teach you treadheads anything at Fort Knox?" "Sure they do, Major. And someday, when Infantry Branch clears you to use words with more than one syllable, I'll tell you all about it." "I'm sure there's a reason you came over here other than to harass me, Bannon. Hopefully, it has to do with that shooting in the town you haven't reported to me yet."

"That was a small affair. Some hyped-up commie highschool kid wanted to play Rambo. He wounded one of Sergeant Polgar's men and got his ass blown away. So far, that's all we've come across. What I really came over here for is to find out when we're going to get this circus moving again. If it's going to be awhile, I want permission to move up onto the high ground to the northeast where we can get under some cover. I'm not thrilled about sitting out here trying to hide my tanks behind these damned bushes." "I expect we'll be moving soon.

The brigade commander just got off the radio with Colonel Reynolds. Colonel Brunn was all over the Old Man. Told him that if he couldn't get this battalion moving, brigade was prepared to pass the I st of the 4th through us to continue the attack." "Sir, pardon me if I seem like an underachiever, but, if the brigade commander wants to let the I st of the 4th take the lead, that's fine by me. I could get into playing second team for awhile." "You don't understand, Bannon. Colonel Brunn damned near relieved Reynolds after the Hill 214 debacle. The only reason he didn't was because there didn't happen to be any spare lieutenant colonels lying around at the time. If the battalion screws the pooch on this operation, the Old Man is gone. The battalion has to succeed."

"Well, sir, between you, me, and that dumb bush your track is trying to hide in, even if what you say is true, I have no intention of taking any undue risks simply to save someone's reputation. Colonel Reynolds is a good officer and a great guy, but his reputation isn't worth a single unnecessary casualty in Team Yankee."

"I don't think we need to worry about that. The colonel is too much of a professional to do anything dumb simply to save face."

"God, I hope you're right, sir."

They turned to covering the next move. The air cavalry had come across some trucks and reconnaissance vehicles as they roamed out to the front. They scattered the trucks and destroyed the recon vehicles. Unfortunately, the cavalry scouts could not tell if they were Polish or belonged to someone else. A scout helicopter had tried to land near one of the destroyed vehicles to check this out but had drawn fire from an unseen enemy. Not being able to obtain this information and confident that the front would be clear for awhile, Major Jordan requested that the air cav troop shift over to the east and cover the battalion's right flank. The brigade S-3 replied that he would look into that.

Colonel Reynolds, having monitored the reports from the air cav troop, called Jordan on the battalion net and ordered him to get Team Yankee on the move again but at a slower pace.

He informed the Major that the rest of the battalion would be moving out momentarily and would be able to catch up provided Team Yankee didn't get carried away again. Major Jordan looked at Bannon, grinned, and told the colonel that he would keep the tankers in check. As soon as the transmission ended, Jordan asked if Bannon had any questions. He replied in the negative; he was to get moving but keep it slow. With that, he went back to 66 and prepared to move the Team.

Orders to stop clearing the town came none too soon as far as Sergeant Polgar was concerned. The house-to-house search was getting old. He didn't want to lose any more of his people to some runny-nosed commie who had not even begun to shave yet. Besides, this kind of work was hard. When he had charged the stairs and thrown himself into the room in the house where the sniper had been, he had landed flat on his chest, forgetting there were still grenades hanging on his web gear. The force of the fall had knocked the wind out of him, and the grenades had dug into his chest. He could feel the bruises forming. As the tracks pulled out of town and headed back to the Team, he decided that he was getting too old to be running around playing John Wayne. In the future, he was going to leave the gung-ho stuff to the young kids in his platoon. He also decided that in the next war, he was going to find himself a nice cushy staff job at the Pentagon, fixing coffee for the generals. His campaigning days were over. War, thought Polgar, belongs to the young and strong.

Avery had mixed feelings about moving again. While sitting in this semi-exposed position was dangerous, moving out into the open again, this time in broad daylight with high ground to both sides of the Team, was more unnerving. The Team commander had ordered him to have his platoon go into a left echelon. This he had done. The 21 was now in the lead with the rest of the platoon trailing off to the left and behind him. The Team commander was off to the right of 21 with 3rd Platoon farther to the right, also in an echelon formation but refusing its right. The Mech Platoon was to the rear in the center traveling with the XO.

As the Team moved forward, Avery found it difficult to observe his assigned sector, keep track of where they were on the map he had out to his front, control 21's driver, and keep one eye on the platoon and the other on the Team commander. On top of this, 21 was running across a plowed field against the furrows and an occasional drainage ditch. It seemed that every time he looked down at the map to see where they were, the driver would hit a ditch, catching the young lieutenant by surprise and rattling him around in the cupola. At times, it seemed that he was unable to control 21, let alone the platoon, and that he was only along for the ride. There had to be a way to manage all of this with some degree of efficiency. How to do that, however, was beyond him.

The Soviet attack helicopter pilot slowly eased his aircraft into position. With a little luck, their target would be just over the rise to their front. They were lucky to have made it this far.

The lead helicopter had barely avoided an enemy scout helicopter on their run in. Although the weapons operator had felt confident that they could have taken out the frail scout, it was not their assigned mission to do so. Someone else would deal with the bothersome scout.

They were hunting for tanks.

The two attack helicopters stationed themselves on either side of an ancient keep that they had used as their rally point and for reference. If the reports were correct, when they popped up over the trees, there would be a town to their front and a group of tanks sitting stationary east of it. When the pilot of the lead helicopter signaled that he was set, the attack helicopters began to slowly raise until the weapons operator's field of vision was clear. The pilot, seated behind and a little higher than the weapons operator, saw the town first. Once he had the town in sight, he then began to search to the east of the town for the enemy tanks.

He couldn't see them. He ordered the weapons operator to search the area with his powerful sight.

As the weapons operator was searching, something caught the eye of the pilot. There was movement to the north of the town. He turned and looked. Several objects were moving.

Over the intercom, he informed the weapons operator of his sighting and turned the aircraft until it was facing almost due east. The weapons operator had no trouble finding his targets.

He quickly identified them as M- I tanks and M-113 personnel carriers. The pilot reported this to his leader who also shifted his orientation to the east and found the targets.

Like great cats preparing to pounce on their prey, the two Soviet MI-24D attack helicopters studied their targets for a moment. The leader called back and asked if the pilot or the weapons operator had observed any antiaircraft guns or missile launchers. The weapons operator replied in the negative. The pilot checked his radar warning device to ensure that it was functioning and had not detected any enemy search radars before reporting back to his leader. The pilot and weapons operator then continued to track their targets, which were far out of range, while they waited for their leader's orders.

The orders came. Both helicopters would swoop-down on the moving tanks at high speed.

The leader would go for the far tanks, and the second MI-24D would attack the near tanks.

They were not concerned with the personnel carriers. The two attack helicopters would be able to take out two tanks, maybe four, on their first pass. After overflying the target, the two MI-241s would turn north, loop around, and attack the tanks head-on. The leader felt confident that they would be able to make two passes on the enemy before any outside help could intervene. After the second run, both helicopters were to rally at the castle keep. They would then decide if they should continue the attack or break it off. Yelling an old Russian battle cry over the radio, the leader signaled the start of the attack.

Avery was hanging on to the machine-gun mount with one hand to steady himself while he ran his finger along his map trying desperately to find a landmark he could use as a reference. The cry of "HELICOPTERS-NINE O'CLOCK," followed rapidly by "MISSILE-MISSILEMISSILE," caught him by surprise.

Instinctively he looked up and to his front. There was nothing there. He then turned to his right to look at the Team commander's tank to see what he was doing. For a moment, Avery watched as 66 began to spew out clouds of white smoke from its exhaust and then turn to the right, disappearing behind the smoke.

When 66 and the 3rd Platoon began to fire wildly above his head, it suddenly dawned upon him what was happening. Avery turned around just in time to see the hideous attack helicopter bearing down on him, preceded by a round object, growing larger by the second and spewing flames. The impact of the antitank guided missile came before Avery could react.

The attack helicopter pilot was surprised at the speed with which the tanks reacted. Almost as one, the tanks had turned and begun to blow huge clouds of white smoke from their engines. The tanks began to weave about and fire. The shooting was wild and totally inaccurate. Still, it was disconcerting to watch the red tracers rise up toward him. A couple of the tanks were even firing their cannons. He had to fight his natural instincts to break off the attack and concentrate on closing on their target.

One of the lead tanks had not turned or cut on its smoke generator. The pilot quickly oriented on this stray and ordered his weapons operator to engage it. Then he launched an antitank guided missile. For several tense moments, the attention of both the pilot and the weapons operator was on the tank as the pilot held the aircraft on course and the weapons operator held his sight on the target. The missile, linked to the weapons operator's sight guidance system by a hair-thin piece of wire, received course corrections and homed in on the targeted tank. Only after the missile impacted on the tank did the pilot jerk his joystick to the left and fly north. He wasn't about to try for a second shot on this run. One hit was good enough.

As the pilot brought the helicopter around, a fast-moving object caught his attention. He looked up to see an American attack helicopter bearing down on him from the north. It must have been with the scout they had seen before. The weapons operator saw it, too, and began to lay his cannon on the closing enemy aircraft. But before the weapons operator could fire, the pilot jerked his joystick to the left again in order to evade. The American, however, was quicker.

The pilot felt his craft shudder, then saw the weapons operator in front of him disappear in a series of small explosions as the American's 20mm cannon shells ripped into the MI-241. The attack helicopter's canopy was riddled and the cockpit was filled with smoke. The pilot struggled to control his aircraft but couldn't. The MI-24D disappeared in a great ball of fire upon impact with the ground.

"WE GOT 'EM! WE GOT 'EM!"

Bannon turned around to see what Kelp was yelling about. Kelp was hanging onto his machine gun with one hand and pointing to the north with the other. In the distance, Bannon could see a fire and black smoke. Kelp, with a grin from ear to ear, turned back to view the conflagration he was sure he had contributed to.

"Forget him, Kelp. He's gone. Keep your eyes open for the other son-of-a-bitch." Bannon ordered the driver to cut the smoke generator off but to be ready to kick it back on. He then called to the platoon leaders for a status report and to find out if anyone saw where the second Hind helicopter had gone. Garger came back with the report that two of his tanks had observed the second Hind disappear to the east, chased by two AH 1 attack helicopters. The two AH 1 s were probably from the air cav troop and had just happened to be in the area. For a moment, Bannon reflected on the fact that someone was looking out for the Team.

With the air clear he ordered the platoon leaders to rally their tracks, then rally on him. The air attack had scattered the Team. The smoke and confusion still had not cleared, and it would take a few minutes to sort things out. As they were doing so, Hebrock came up on the Team net and reported that the 21 tank had been hit.

"Damn!" Bannon thought, "2nd Platoon lost another platoon leader." Not everyone could be lucky. In war someone has to die. But the second lieutenants in the 2nd Platoon seemed to be making it a habit. He looked around to see how bad 21 was but was unable to do so because the smoke the tanks had put out still had not dissipated. He called back to find out some more details as 66 came around to head back north. Hebrock reported that as soon as he had any, he'd call back.

As 24 closed on the smoking hulk of the 21 tank, Hebrock was convinced that everyone in the crew was dead. Main gun rounds in the turret ammo compartment were still cooking off, throwing great balls of flame and smoke into the air. The blow-off panels, designed to come off when the ammunition cooked off and vent the force of the explosion up and away from the crew, were lying fifty meters away from where 21 sat. Hebrock brought 24 to within forty meters of 21 and stopped. Both he and his loader watched as the fire died down and smoke slowly rose from the ammo storage compartment on the rear of the turret. Neither man said a word. Just as he was about to report to the Team commander that 21 was a write off, the loader's hatch on 21 swung open. Hebrock watched for a moment. To his amazement, he saw 21's loader climb out, turn around, then reach down to help someone else. Hebrock ordered his driver to pull up next to 21 and called the first sergeant, telling him they needed the ambulance ASAP.

The air attack had given the rest of the battalion a chance to catch up. Colonel Reynolds called to ask if the Team could continue in the lead or if he needed to pass C company forward. Bannon replied that that wasn't necessary. The platoon leaders had been able to rally their people with no trouble, 2nd Platoon using the shattered 21 as their rally point. Bannon ordered Hebrock to leave the recovery of personnel and 21 to the first sergeant and get his platoon moving.

After he had made the transmission, he thought how cold such an order must seem to an outsider. He had no doubt that every man in the 2nd Platoon wanted to help his buddies in 21. Within the platoons there was a strong personal bond that held the men together. It was natural.

But they were at war. It was unfortunate that lieutenant what's-his-name had been hit and was probably dead. That happens in war. He and his crew would be taken care of, however, by someone else. It was the Team's job, and 2nd Platoon's, to continue the mission. They could not stop each time a tank was hit or a man fell. To do so would be to place the other personnel in the Team in jeopardy. Bannon didn't like the thought of rolling away and leaving 21 on its own, but he had his duty, and the Team had a mission, two very cold and uncompromising words.

Team Yankee, having collected itself, moved forward again. This time, however, they were not alone. Far to the left, Bannon could catch glimpses of some of Team Bravo's tracks.

They were now abreast of the Team and moving north. To the rear, he could make out tracks of the battalion command group. He had no doubt that C company was close behind.

Satisfied that all was back on track within the Team and the battalion, he turned his attention to the town of Korberg just to the north. That, and the valley to the east of it, would be the next critical point.

As his track and the ambulance closed on 21, First Sergeant Harrert could feel his stomach begin to knot up. He knew that he wasn't going to see anything new. Two tours in Vietnam, training accidents, and the first few days of this war had exposed him to many such scenes.

Once he was there and doing something, he would be all right. It was the anticipation that bothered him the most. How bad was it this time? How many? Was there something he could do, or did they simply need the body bags? Did he know them, their wives, their children? Would they be able to identify the bodies? First sergeants are supposed to be detached, able to handle these things without a second thought. But first sergeants are also human. It was with great relief that First Sergeant Harrert found that there had been only one casualty. Tessman greeted Harrert and led him and the medic to where the lieutenant was lying, face down.

While the medic began to work on Avery, Tessman explained what had happened. Avery had been standing up in the cupola when the missile hit. The force of the explosion from the main gun rounds set off by the missile hit him squarely in the head and back. The lieutenant simply dropped down to the turret floor. Fortunately for the rest of the crew, the ballistic doors that separated the crew from the stored ammunition had been closed. Some flames did get into the crew compartment, but nothing serious. The tank stopped and the halon fire extinguishers activated. After the explosions stopped, they abandoned the tank and did what they could for the lieutenant.

There wasn't much that they, or the medic, could do for Avery. He was in a very bad way with massive wounds and severe burns on his back and head. The medic told the first sergeant that they needed to get him medevacked right away or they would lose him. With the help of the crew, Avery was placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance which took off for the battalion aid station.

With the ambulance gone, the first sergeant and Tessman began to look over 21. They had the driver try to start the engine but to no avail. The 21 would have to be towed back to the rear by the M-88 recovery vehicle. Looking into the turret and the burned out ammo storage compartment, Harrert commented that the tank would probably be back in action within twenty-four hours. Tessman, observing that this was the second time that this tank had been hit, dryly replied that they should retire it and use it for spare parts. Harrert agreed, but noted that the U.S. Army was fast running out of tanks and couldn't afford to throw them away simply because they had had a run of bad luck. To that, Tessman offered 21 to the first sergeant after it had been repaired. The first sergeant had to stop and think about that one. Maybe this tank should be scrapped.

The Soviet tank company commander did not like the idea of moving through the woods in single file. He would have preferred to have gone north past the town of Langen. By doing that, the company, and the battalion following it, would have been able to deploy into combat formation before making contact with the Americans. The regimental commander, however, had vetoed that idea because of the activity of American reconnaissance helicopters. To have gone through Langen would have exposed them to observation. Not only would the regiment lose the element of surprise, they would also be open to attack from the air.

Instead, the lead tank battalion was winding its way along trails through the woods in order to maintain the element of surprise.

There were few options open to him. Once his tanks began coming out of the woods high on the hill, they would be visible to everyone in the valley. After they had been observed, there would be little time to take advantage of their surprise. Therefore, rather than have the three tanks of his lead platoon, the regiment's combat patrol, go out on its own, he had them pull back with the rest of the company. To succeed, they had to take chances.

He gambled that his commander would not find out that he had pulled in the combat patrol, and the company would not stumble into an ambush. Thus the entire company was bunched up as they neared the edge of the woods overlooking the valley. The company would therefore be able to clear the tree line and deploy into a tight battle formation rapidly. It was a good plan, and he was sure that it would work.

The only thing that could possibly go wrong now was an antitank ambush along the trail they were on. If the lead tank was hit, the others would be backed up, unable to bypass or fight. The thought of such a thing gave the tank company commander chills. The sooner he was out of these damned woods and in battle formation, the better, as far as he was concerned.