Team Yankee

CHAPTER ELEVEN Counterattack

Air Force Maj. Orrin "The Snowman" Snow was pissed. As he led his wingman to where their two A-lOs were to loiter and wait for good targets, he reflected that the people running Flight Operations had to be morons. He could understand how the Army pukes could screw up. Hell, most of them couldn't tell the difference between their planes and the Russians', let alone what to do with them. But getting the royal weenie from your own people was too much. It was bad enough that they had had to fight their way through enemy flak that wasn't supposed to be there to get at the target. But then to discover that the target wasn't there now, if it ever had been there, was too much.

Now the two A-lOs, having barely made it back from behind the enemy lines, were being diverted into a holding pattern where they would wait until a good target was nominated. It made sense. It would have been dumb to send the aircraft back to the air field loaded with ordnance. But Snowman wasn't interested in logic right now. He was madder than hell for wasting their time and being sent on a worthless mission. If someone didn't come up with a good mission fast, he was going to lead the other A-10 to Flight Ops and bomb it, just for the hell of it.

The Team was making good progress, too good. Colonel Reynolds called Bannon and ordered him to slow down. C company was having a hard time keeping up, creating a large gap between Team Yankee and it. The colonel wanted to keep the companies close together. Bannon turned around in the cupola and looked back at the Mech Platoon. They were having no problem keeping up with the tanks. He couldn't imagine what the problem was with C company. Those boys were having a rough morning.

As he prepared to give the necessary orders to slow their rate of advance, the thought occurred to him that the longer he took to give the order, the farther they would go. At their current speed, every second he delayed meant the Team advanced another meter. The faster they went, the less time the Soviets had to throw something at them. A few extra minutes could mean the difference between seizing a bridge over the Saale intact or finding them all destroyed. Of course, speed could work against the Team. If it got far ahead and ran into trouble, the rest of the battalion might not be able to catch up in time to pull its chestnuts out of the fire. Orders were orders and, as they say, discretion was the better part of valor. Team Yankee slowed down for the third time that morning.

As his tanks began to spill out of the woods onto the slope overlooking the valley, the Soviet tank company commander gave one short command. Like the well-drilled machine it was, the company rapidly deployed into a combat line. Once all the tanks were on line, they began to pick up speed and search for targets.

From their vantage point, this was not a difficult task. Before them, on the valley floor deployed in a great vee, was a company of armored personnel carriers and TOW vehicles being led by a small gaggle of three more personnel carriers. A quick count revealed that there were at least fifteen, maybe as many as twenty personnel carriers to their front less than four kilometers away. It had to be an American mechanized infantry company. The Russian commander watched the advance of his tanks, now moving at a rate of over forty kilometers per hour. The absence of American tanks with the personnel carriers worried him. The fact that the personnel carriers were M-113s and not the new Bradleys pleased him. But there had been reports of tanks. He would have, liked to have taken out the tanks in the first volley. They were the greatest threat to his company. The M-113s would have been easy to deal with after the tanks. But, without any tanks in sight, the American mechanized company would be dealt with first. No doubt, once the shooting began, the American tanks would come out of hiding.

Even with his CVC on and 66's engine running, the sharp crack of tank cannons firing was clearly audible to Bannon as the sound reverberated through the valley. Automatically, he straightened up and looked around to see who was under fire. There were no telltale puffs of smoke or dust clouds from tank cannons to the front. A quick scan to the rear revealed nothing. Someone was shooting someone.

"BRAVO 3 ROMEO-THIS IS ROMEO 25-WHO IS UNDER FIRE AND WHERE'S IT COMING FROM? OVER."

Both tank platoons rapidly reported back that they were not under fire. It was the Mech Platoon that provided the answer.

"ROMEO 25-THIS IS ZULU 77-1 THINK THE PEOPLE THAT WERE FOLLOWING US ARE UNDER ATTACK-I CAN SEE SEVERAL FIRES BEHIND US OVER."

Bannon turned completely around in the cupola and stood as high as he could. In the distance, to the rear of the Mech Platoon, he now could clearly see four pillars of black smoke rising into the air. C company had been hit. But from where? By whom? And why no reports from battalion? He dropped down and switched to the battalion net to try to contact the battalion commander. When there was no response, Bannon tried to contact the S-3. Still no luck.

It was the D company commander who told him what was going on. In rapid-fire fragments he reported that C company was under attack from Soviet tanks coming from the east. He went on to report that he was deploying his company into a hasty defense along the road from Issel to Korberg. There was no time to get away. With that, he dropped off the net and stayed off despite Bannon's efforts to contact him. No doubt he was busy running his company.

He then contacted the Team Bravo commander to learn if he was in contact. Lieutenant Peterson reported that he was not in contact but could see the Soviet tanks coming down off the hill to the east. He estimated that there were at least ten, maybe more. He couldn't make out what kind they-were but since they were shooting on the move and hitting, he figured that they were T-72s or better.

It was clear that the battalion was in trouble. The battalion commander and the S-3 could not be reached. C company was probably scattered and fighting for its life. D company had checked out of the net as it prepared to greet the Russian onslaught. That left Team Yankee and Bravo with Bannon the senior officer. Suddenly he found himself in the position of being in command of half the battalion and having to come up with a solution to the nightmare or face losing the whole damned battalion. As these thoughts ran through his mind like a runaway locomotive, Team Yankee continued to move north, away from the battle, at a rate of one meter a second.

The Soviet tank company commander could feel the adrenaline run through his veins. They were closing on the Americans. Already a half-dozen personnel carriers were burning hulks with the rest scattering to get out of the way. All semblance of order had been lost as the Americans turned and ran. Surprise had been complete. Now they were reaping the benefits that their speed, fire, and shock effect had created.

With curt orders he directed the fire of his platoons. A report that there were more personnel carriers deploying to the west of the road drew his attention to the ten or twelve that were some three kilometers away. These carriers were dropping their ramps to let their infantry dismount. The tank company would have to finish the first enemy company fast and get to the second before they had time to set up a viable defense. Speed was critical! He began to issue new orders to his platoon leaders.

With little chance to think the whole problem out, Bannon began to issue orders. On the battalion net, he ordered Team Bravo to turn east, cross the north-south road, go about a kilometer, then turn south, and take the Soviets under fire in the flank with TOWS and tanks.

When Peterson acknowledged those orders, Bannon dropped down to the Team net and ordered the FIST chief to call for all the artillery and close air support he could and to get into position from which he could control it.

He then ordered the Mech Platoon to move to the southeast along the tree line into the gap formed by the two hills to their right. He was sure that the Soviets had come from there and expected more would follow. The Mech Platoon was to set up an antiarmor ambush in the woods and keep the Soviets from reinforcing the company already in the valley. The two tank platoons and the XO were ordered to follow 66.

As 66 turned east and headed up the hill to the tree line, Bannon explained over the Team net what they were going to do. Once they reached the tree line, they would turn south, following the tree line. When they got to the gap, if there were more Soviet tanks already coming out, they would hit them in the flank. If, however, Polgar got to the gap first, the tanks would turn west once they reached the gap and attack the Soviets in the rear. The Mech Platoon would be left to deal with any follow-on Soviets as best they could.

It was all Uleski could do to hang on. The Team commander had his tank roaring along the tree line at full speed, with the rest of the tanks in the Team trying hard to keep up. The Mech Platoon had taken off on its own as soon as it had its orders. To their right they could see the battle in the valley. A dozen burning tracks were scattered about the area. The Soviet tanks were clearly visible as they fired and moved forward. At the ranges the Soviets were firing at, they seldom missed. Gwent, the gunner, kept his gun laid on the Soviets below. The range was too great even if the Team commander had given them permission to fire. At the rate they were moving, however, that would not be a problem in a few minutes.

Uleski could feel his blood rising as he worked himself into a rage in preparation for the upcoming battle. He stoked the fires of his hatred of the Soviets by recalling how his first driver, Thomas Lorriet, had died. The image of the young soldier's body on the ground that first day pushed aside any last shred of compassion he had for the enemy as he cursed the Russians out loud over the whine of 55's engine.

As his tank raced along behind 66, Garger realized that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

At first, it was frightening. Men were dying there in the valley. In a few minutes he would be in the middle of the fray, adding to the killing and, if his luck ran out, being killed himself. The very idea that he should be enjoying this seemed inappropriate at first. But there was no denying the feeling. He had never felt so alive. Standing in the turret of 31 as it raced along, the image of the U.S. cavalry riding out to the rescue flashed through his mind. The only things missing from this scene were the troop's guidon and a bugler sounding the charge.

This was his moment. This was why he had joined the Army. "To hell with it," Garger thought.

"This is great! Too bad it can't last. "

A frantic and incomprehensible report on the radio was the first indication that the Soviet tank company commander had that his company was under attack. He glanced to his right in time to see a second tank in his company burst into flames. The enemy tanks! They're on our flank! As if on cue from the enemy threat to his right, the mechanized infantry company that had deployed along the road began to fire antitank guided missiles. He was trapped.

Without a second thought, the tank company commander ordered his tanks to turn left and cut on their smoke generators. They had been lucky, and they had caused a great deal of damage. But the Americans were now gaining the upper hand. It was time to break off this attack and wait for the rest of the battalion before continuing.

Team Bravo was in position and firing before Team Yankee reached the gap and the point where they would turn. As soon as Sergeant Polgar reported that he was in place, Bannon ordered the tanks to execute an action right, form a line, and attack. Following 66's lead, the other tanks cut right and began to advance into the valley. Team Bravo's fire had been effective in forcing the Soviets to break off their attack and had thus relieved the pressure on D company. In a great cloud of smoke created by their smoke generators, the T-72 tanks that had survived disappeared to the south. Folk switched to the thermal sight and continued to track the Soviet tanks as they fled to the south. It was now a race. Would the Team be able to catch up to them in time to hit them? Right now, that didn't seem likely. Team Yankee's grand maneuver had been a bust. It had, by going too far out in front of the battalion, taken the Team out of the battle. Then it struck Bannon that this disaster, or at least part of it, had been his fault. Had he obeyed the battalion commander's orders to the letter, Team Yankee would have been closer to C company and able to support it when the Russians hit. A mech company in M-113s on the move was very vulnerable to enemy tanks.

Team Yankee should have been able to simply turn around and support the infantry. He had, however, been in a hurry to get out in front and reach the Saale. Now C company and the command group were gone, and the enemy was getting away.

Just as he finished his self-condemnation, the artillery began to impact to the front of the Soviet tanks. The FIST officer, Plesset, having seen the enemy turn south, adjusted the incoming artillery to where the enemy was headed. He had wanted the artillery to impact directly on the tanks but had misjudged the enemy's speed and distance. This error caused the Soviets to turn east to avoid the artillery. The rapid change of direction allowed them to escape the artillery, but drove them straight into the Team. The Soviets had either not seen Bannon's tanks and thought their turning east would be safe or they had decided to take on the Team rather than the artillery.

Whatever the reason, the Team now had a chance to finish the job. Without further hesitation, Bannon ordered the tanks to fire at will and issued his fire command as he laid 66's gun on the lead tank coming out of their smoke screen.

"ENEMY TANKS TO THE FRONT!"

The Soviet tank company commander snapped his head to the front in response to his gunner's yell. For a moment he was paralyzed with fear as he watched a line of M-l tanks bearing down on him. It had been a trap. The Americans fooled me and now we are lost. As improbable as it seemed, that was the only way the tank company commander could explain it. No matter now. There was no time for maneuver. No time to make decisions. The only thing left to do was fight it out with the American tanks head-on. The tank company commander ordered his tanks to attack and began to direct his gunner to engage the lead American tank.

The scene was more like a medieval battle between knights than a clash between the most advanced tanks in the world. Like the knights of Middle Ages, the two groups of tanks charged at each other with lowered lances. Team Yankee had the advantage of surprise and numbers, nine against five. The element of surprise allowed the Team to fire first. The volley from Team Yankee stopped three of the T-72s, two of them blowing up and the third only crippled. The return fire from the Soviets claimed a 3rd Platoon tank.

By the time they were ready to fire again, the Team was right on top of the surviving Soviet tanks. Two of 3rd Platoon's tanks drove past the one Soviet tank still running. The turrets of the U.S. tanks stayed locked on the T-72 as they went by. When the two tanks fired on the Soviet at point-blank range, both rounds penetrated, causing the T-72 to stagger to a halt as internal explosions and sheets of flames blew open its hatches.

The crippled T-72 was overwhelmed. The shock of being hit and having so many targets so close was too much for the crew. They were obviously confused in their last seconds.

Bannon watched the turret move one way to engage a tank, then in the opposite direction to engage a tank that appeared to be a greater threat, then back to the original tank. As he watched this, he wondered why none of the Team's tanks were firing on it. They had all slowed down by now so as not to bypass it, and most of the tanks had their guns trained on the hapless Soviet tank. Yet no one fired. It was almost as if everyone either felt sorry for this lone survivor or they were enjoying making the Soviets suffer the agony of certain death.

Whatever the reason, Bannon ordered Folk to fire. He and four other tank commanders had the same idea at the same instant, giving an effective coup de grace to the last tank.

Six kilometers to the east on the other side of the hill a Soviet tank battalion commander was in the middle of a raging fit. As the lead tank of his second company raced along the narrow trails to catch up with the company already engaged, it had thrown a track making a sharp turn. Now it blocked the trail.

At first he was not worried. There appeared to be plenty of room for the battalion to bypass to one side. This was ordered. The fourth tank that did so, however, also threw a track. Now the bypass was blocked. As he nervously thumped his fingers on his map, waiting for the path to be cleared, the battalion political officer climbed on board his tank and watched the proceedings from there in silence. The battalion commander tried to ignore the political officer but that was not possible. "The bastard," he thought. "He's come here to intimidate me. He'll not succeed." The political officer did, as was his habit, succeed. Both the battalion commander and the political officer heard the report from the lead company that they were being engaged by American tanks in the flank, and the attack had to be broken off. The political officer leaned over and said, "Well, comrade, what are we going to do? The attack seems to be failing."

This was a threat, clear and simple. The political officer was telling the battalion commander that if he didn't take action, he, the political officer, would. The commander did not hesitate.

At least fighting the Americans gave him a chance. One had no chance with the KGB. The three tanks that had already bypassed were ordered to continue forward to assist the lead company. The battalion commander climbed out of his tank personally to supervise the clearing of the trail. At least the thrashing of arms and yelling would give the appearance of doing something. It was worth a try.

For a moment, Bannon drew a blank. The sight of smashed vehicles and the smell associated with burning tanks was becoming all too familiar. The fact that the battalion's predicament was nowhere near what the plan had called for was not any different from other operations. It was the fact that he had no immediate superior to turn to for orders and assistance that threw him. On Hill 214 he had been alone, but at least he was still able to carry on with the order that had been issued.

This was different. He had one company that had been wiped out and two companies that were facing the wrong way watching the fourth company mill about waiting for him, their commander, to pull his head out and give them some orders. No sooner had the thought

"Why me?" flashed through his mind than the answer followed, "Because you're it." For the moment there was no one else, and if he didn't start doing something fast to get this goat screw squared away, the next wave of Russians would finish them. He ordered Uleski to rally the Team's tanks and stand by for orders. Next he ordered Team Bravo to turn around to a defensive posture covering the rest of the battalion. The D company commander was ordered to rally his unit and sweep the battlefield to clear it of any Soviet survivors and provide whatever help they could to C company's survivors.

Contacting the battalion S-3 Air, a young captain back at the battalion's main CP, Bannon ordered him to report the battalion's current status to brigade, its location, and the fact that it was halted. Additionally, brigade was to be informed that he had assumed command and would contact the brigade commander personally as soon as possible. With that, Bannon switched back to the Team radio net and contacted Uleski, informing him that he would be leaving the Team net. Until further notice, Uleski would command Team Yankee.

Not wanting to sit out in the middle of the field by himself, Bannon ordered Kelp to follow 55.

Dropping down to where the radios were, he flipped through the CEOI, found the radio frequency for the brigade's command net, switched the frequency, and reset the radio's preset frequencies.

While the battalion net had been relatively quiet, brigade's was crowded with a never-ending stream of calls, orders, half-completed conversations, and requests for more information.

Bannon entered the net just as the battalion S-3 Air was finishing the report that he had directed him to make. Not surprisingly, most of the information was wrong. Colonel Brunn, the brigade commander, came back and asked the S-3 Air to confirm the battalion's current location.

Before he could respond, Bannon answered and gave the correct location and his assessment of the battalion's current status. He informed the brigade commander that the battalion was no longer capable of continuing the attack. Bannon ran down a list of the reasons why and waited for an answer. When he finished, there was a moment of silence on the brigade net while the grim news sank in. Then, without hesitation or a long-winded discussion, Colonel Brunn contacted the commander of the 1st of the 4th Armor and ordered him to pass through the mech battalion and continue the attack north as the brigade's lead element. Brunn came back to Bannon, ordering him to rally the battalion and to keep the brigade S-3 posted on its status. For the moment, Task Force 1 st of the 78th Infantry was out of the war.

As Garger led his platoon through the area where C company and the Soviet tank company had been wiped out, he realized that he was seeing another aspect of war that he had so far missed: the aftermath. Up to this point, all his battles had been at long range. He had taken part in the run through the town of Arnsdorf with the CO during the defense of Hill 214, where they had been eyeball to eyeball with the Russians. But that action was fast, a blur of activity in a heated night action.

This was different. The slow movement of the Team through the battle area offered him ample opportunities to view the debris of battle more closely. There were the smashed vehicles, tanks, and PCs. Some burned fiercely while others showed no apparent damage, almost as if their crews had simply stopped their vehicles. It was the dead and the dying that were most unsettling. Here a tank crewman hung halfway out of a burning tank, his body blackened and burning. Over there a group of dead infantrymen who had abandoned their PC, cut down by the advancing Soviet tanks. Everywhere the lightly wounded were moving about, sorting out those who could be helped and those who were beyond help. Garger didn't want to watch. He wanted to turn away. But that was not possible. The horror of the scene had a fascination that held his attention.

The time span could not have been more than two minutes from when the firing in the valley to the west had stopped and the sound of advancing tanks coming from the east was detected. Polgar heard the squeak of the sprockets just as the forward security team he had sent out reported that there were tanks coming down the trail fast. Polgar had to remind them to report the type and number of tanks they were observing. Sheepishly, the NCO in charge of the security element reported three T-72s moving across an open area in the woods toward where Polgar had deployed the rest of the Platoon.

Instead of defending at the tree line where the security element was located, he had decided to set up deep in the woods where his people would have the greatest advantages and the tanks would be the most vulnerable and helpless. The Dragons would be worthless in this fight. The antitank guided missile they fired needed to fly some distance before the warhead armed. There wasn't enough standoff distance here for that to happen. This fight was going to be strictly man against tank at very close range. For this, the Mech Platoon was ready.

Polgar observed the tanks as they came. The tank commanders were up in the cupolas pushing their tanks forward for all they were worth. They did not seem to be concerned with security. The fact that the lead element had passed through these woods without incident apparently satisfied this group of Russian tankers that the trail was clear. Besides, they were hell-bent to join the lead element as fast as possible. In a twisted bit of humor, Polgar thought to himself as he watched the T-72s advance that all three would very soon be joining their comrades in the valley wherever good Communists go when they die.

Polgar and his men were far more relaxed as they waited to spring this ambush than they had been on Hill 214. The big Soviet tanks could be defeated. The men and the leaders in the Mech Platoon knew this now. They hadn't been too sure the first day or that night on the hill. They were veterans now, however, and knew what they could do. To some it was almost a contest, a challenge of sorts. Infantrymen were always trying to prove to tankers that they could easily do in their archrivals on the battlefield. The detonation of the first antitank mine was their cue to do so again. As the platoon went into action, there was nothing for Polgar to do. Every man had been briefed on his role and went into action as planned. Machine gunners and riflemen cut down the tank commanders before they could respond or drop down inside the tanks. Other infantrymen with light antitank rocket launchers, called LAWs, began to fire. One LAW is not enough to kill a tank. Sometimes it would take up to twelve LAWS before the tank died. Because of this Polgar had organized four-man tank killer teams under an NCO. Each man had several LAWs. The NCO would designate the target tank and fire. Each of the men would then fire in turn against the same tank. In this way, the first two tanks were rapidly dispatched.

The third tank, seeing the plight of the first two, began to back up. It didn't get far, however.

Two infantrymen, on opposite sides of the trail, pulled a mine attached to a rope onto the trail under the third tank as it backed up. The detonation destroyed the engine but did not kill the crew. The crew began to spray the woods indiscriminately with machine-gun fire in an effort to kill some of their unseen assailants.

A squad leader in charge of this area called for smoke. Several men threw grenades that erupted into billowing clouds of colored smoke. Once this smoke screen was thick enough to provide cover, the squad leader maneuvered his tank killer team into position behind the tank where he knew the turret would not be able to be turned on them. For several seconds the LAW gunners waited for the smoke to clear. Once they had a clear shot, the LAW gunners began to fire. First the NCO, then the next man. Then the third. At the range they were engaging from, no one was missing. The LAWS slammed into the crippled tank one after the other at a measured interval. As Polgar watched, he knew the third tank was doomed.

So did the crew of the tank. Deciding that there was no point in dying for the Motherland just for the sake of dying, they surrendered. The tank gunner stuck his hand up out of the commander's hatch and waved a white rag. Both Polgar and the NCO in charge of the LAW gunners ordered a cease-fire. This was something new. They were finally going to meet the enemy. A defeated enemy.

Once the firing stopped, the gunner slowly began to emerge. Looking around, he continued to climb out. When he saw the first American, he stopped and waved the white rag again, just to be sure. The gunner didn't move until the American signaled him to climb down. As he did so, the driver opened his hatch and climbed out and onto the ground.

The Russians were terrified. They were searched at gunpoint, their pistols and anything else that could be used as a weapon were stripped from them. While this search was in progress, an NCO climbed up to check out the tank commander and the rest of the tank.

When it was discovered that the tank commander was still alive, two more infantrymen climbed up and gave the NCO a hand, lowering the wounded Russian down and away from the tank while the medic was called. The Russian gunner and driver, seeing this, relaxed. The horror stories their political officers had told them about Americans killing prisoners were lies. They were safe. They would live.

As he worked on the wounded tank commander, the medic thought how ironic this was.

Less than two minutes ago everyone in the platoon was trying to kill this man. Now he was doing his damnedest to save the Russian's life. War was definitely screwed up. The medic hoped that someday someone would explain it all to him. But not right now. There was a man's life to save.

Bannon was in the process of gathering the commanders of Team Bravo and D company when Polgar reported the tanks. As soon as he heard about it, he ordered Uieski to take the Team's tanks up to the Mech Platoon's position. Once there he was to establish a defensive position blocking that trail with one tank platoon and the Mech Platoon and hold another tank platoon back as a reaction force.

His meeting with the other commanders was interrupted by the arrival of Major Jordan. A D company PC making a sweep of the area found the major and the survivors of the command group in a ditch where they had taken cover when their tracks had been hit. Jordan was covered with mud and bloodstains but was physically all right. As soon as he saw the gathered commanders, he smiled, "Bannon, I never thought that I would be so happy to see those damned tanks of yours as I was when they came rolling down. It was great.

"The Major talked fast and appeared hyper. That was not surprising. Given the spot he had just come from, it was to be expected.

"I'm glad to see you, sir. For awhile we thought the whole command group was gone. Did Colonel Reynolds make it?"

"He's been hit, hit bad. The medics have him now. His track and mine were hit in the first volley. That any of us survived is nothing short of a miracle. As it was, we had three dead and five wounded in the command group alone. How did the rest of the battalion do?"

While the major sat, drinking water and regaining his composure, Bannon went over the current status of the battalion. C company had, for all practical purposes, ceased to exist.

Two squads of infantry and their PCs as well as one ITV from C company had joined D company. There were a number of individual stragglers being policed up but many of them were wounded.

As all the officers and senior NCOs had been hit or were unaccounted for, it would take awhile to come up with a total casualty count for that unit. D company had lost three PCs and one ITV. Their total casualties included five dead, thirteen wounded, and three missing. Team Bravo hadn't lost anything. Team Yankee had one tank damaged, the 33 tank, with two wounded. In addition to the line companies, the command group had lost all three of their PCs. Overall, the battalion had lost fifteen PCs, three ITVs, and one tank during the Soviet counterattack. Even if the three tanks Polgar's people had gotten were counted, the battalion had lost more than it had taken.

The 1st of the 4th began to roll past the major and his gathered commanders on the road headed north. The men of that battalion viewed the devastation on both sides of the road in silence as they went by. When the command group of the 1 st of the 4th rolled by, the S-3's track broke out of the column and came down to where Bannon, Jordan, and the other commanders were gathered. Major Shell, the battalion S-3, asked for a quick update on what information Major Jordan had so far about activity to the front and flank. Jordan gave him what he had, which wasn't much. Major Shell looked around for a moment, wished him luck, then mounted his track and took off to catch up with the rest of his command group.

Uleski's report that there were more Soviet tanks coming down the trail towards Team Yankee's position broke up the meeting. Bannon asked Jordan if he had any orders for him. Still not completely caught up on the overall picture and somewhat shaken from his experience, Jordan replied, "No, just hold the flank." With that, Bannon mounted 66 and moved up to rejoin the Team.

Bob Uleski was still in the process of redeploying the Team when the Soviets appeared.

When he had arrived at the position, two of the three tanks the Mech Platoon had hit were burning and giving off clouds of thick black smoke. There was no doubt the next group of Soviets would be able to see the smoke and would put two and two together. The trick of hiding in the woods would not work a second time. After a quick consultation with Polgar, Uleski had 3rd Platoon and his tank deploy on either side of the trail at the tree line where the security element had been watching the open area in the woods. The Mech Platoon, divided into two groups, each with two Dragons, began to deploy to the tree lines on the north and south side of the open area. The plan was for the 3rd Platoon to bar the trail physically while the Mech Platoon hit the Soviets on both flanks. The Mech Platoon was not yet in position, however, when the Soviets started coming. The lead Soviet tank rolled out into the open and then stopped as soon as he saw the black smoke. It was obvious that the tank commander was reporting and would be able to see the 3rd Platoon sitting in the tree line at a range of six hundred meters. So Uleski ordered Garger to open fire. Two 3rd Platoon tanks quickly destroyed the T-72.

As he watched the T-72 burn, Uleski got Polgar on the radio and told him to get into position fast. It wouldn't be long before the Soviets made their next move. Uleski then entered the battalion net to report, requesting artillery on the trail across the open area from him where the Soviets were probably lined up. It was now a question of who would be ready first.

The Soviet battalion commander was not at all happy with his situation. The regimental commander was pushing him to attack and would not listen to reason. The Americans had his battalion bottled up on the trail with almost no room to maneuver. When his last appeal to the regimental commander was greeted with a hail of threats and abuse, he gave up. He ordered his remaining tanks, now down to eighteen, to bunch up under cover of the woods. When he gave the order, they were to rush into the open area to their front, deploy on line, and attack the far tree line. He hoped they would be able to overwhelm the enemy with speed and firepower. There was nothing else to do.

Major Snow blew up when he received word to turn around and fly back to attack the target he had just been told was no longer there. Over the air he told his wingman, so that everyone on the net would hear, "Those people in flight operations have no idea what they're doing! If they wave us off one more time, we're going to go back there and bomb them." His wingman went along with the abuse of their ground controllers by recommending that they forget the mission and just bomb the controllers. Major Snow simply shook his head and turned back to the heading they had just left. Maybe, just maybe, there was something there this time.

The T-72s began to pour out of the tree line and fanned out to the left and right. Polgar was still not yet in position. With so short a distance and so few tanks to stop the Soviets, Uleski had no doubt that some of the T-72s would make it to them. He knew as they began to fire that it was going to be a hard fight this time.

As the two A- 1 Os came up to the target area, they saw numerous pillars of black smoke rising up into the sky. To the front left in the valley there was a large amount of smoke. But that wasn't where they had been directed. Further east, in a saddle between two hills there were fewer columns of smoke. That was where they were going. As the A-lOs closed on the spot, a clearing crowded with tanks appeared to their front. Neither he nor his wingman knew whose they were. Without an air controller on the ground to help, the only thing left to do was to overfly them and check them out. Commenting to his wingman that this was a hell of a way to do business, Snow dropped down and went in.

One pass was all Major Snow needed. He brought his A-10 up, circled around, and told his wingman to follow him in on the next run. The tanks were Russians'. Finally, they were going to get to kill something.

At first Uleski thought the aircraft that buzzed overhead was Soviet. It had come and gone too fast for anyone to see, not that anyone had been looking. The entire clearing was filled with T-72s. The 3rd Platoon was firing as fast as possible and receiving return fire from the advancing Soviets. When he reported the aircraft, the Team's FIST came back and told him that they should be A-lOs that had been requested. Not sure, Uleski continued with the business at hand and hoped for the best.

The A-IOs came in from behind the Soviets and opened up with their 30mm cannons. In a shower of armor-piercing and HE shells, several T-72s blew up. As the two A-IOs overflew the west side of the tree line Snow noticed the American tanks there firing on the Soviets.

He cautioned his wingman to watch out for them. There was only two hundred meters between the U.S. and the Soviet tanks. This was truly close air support.

By the time Bannon arrived on the scene it was all over. Coming up next to 55 from behind, he stopped and surveyed the open area. There were at least fifteen T-72s burning to the front. Looking down the tree line he could see that one of the 3rd Platoon tanks was also burning. After making sure that the Soviets had really broken off the attack, Bannon dismounted and ran over to 55. Uleski was just getting over the shock of having been in such a near thing. One Soviet tank had managed to reach a point less than fifty meters from 55. He quickly pulled himself together and reported what had happened and the status of the Team. Satisfied that Uleski had the situation well in hand and that the Soviets wouldn't be coming back this way, Bannon reported to Major Jordan and cancelled the order for 2nd Platoon to come up. As he waited for new orders, he went over the morning's events in his mind. It wasn't even noon and already the Team had been in four different engagements and had lost three tanks. The mission of the battalion had been changed, and instead of being the lead battalion in the attack, it was now defending the flanks. It was shaping up to be a hell of a day.