Team Yankee

CHAPTER FIVE Hunter and Hunted

Twenty-eight minutes from the time Bannon had talked to Lawson, 55 cranked up. The bridge was opened and ready for Team Yankee. The engineers, however, made sure that the tanks didn't screw up their work again. An engineer NCO stood at the near end of the bridge, stopping each tank as it approached the ramp. He would hold the tank there until the tank on the bridge got off on the far side of the river. When it was 66's turn at the on ramp, Lawson came up to the side of the tank.

"Right on schedule, Lawson. Your people done good. Give 'em an atta boy." "Will do, Bannon. You give those Russians hell."

With a thumbs up and a grin, 66 rolled onto the bridge as Lawson waved. The military was strange like that. In the middle of the night you run into a major problem. You suddenly find yourself depending on someone you never met before and probably would never see again.

But that person knocks himself out to do his job and helps you get on with yours. Lawson and his engineers had done their job and done it well. Now Team Yankee could go about theirs.

Crossing one at a time was a slow process. Uleski kept the pace down until he had determined that the Team had cleared the bridge. He then began to pick up speed slowly until he reached, then slightly exceeded, the former march speed. All together, Team Yankee was forty-five minutes behind schedule. It was now 0430 hours, Alpha time. The sky in the east was becoming light. They were supposed to be crossing the line of departure in another thirty minutes. Even at best speed, they would not be able to make it. But the tanks could not travel at top speed. If they did, the personnel carriers would not have been able to keep up. It would be useless to arrive on time without the infantry or the FIST. So the Team stayed together and made the best possible speed. What concerned Bannon more than being late, however, was the failure of C company to close up at the bridge. Even as the Team left the bridge site, he kept looking back across the river in the gathering light, searching for a glimpse of anyone else in the battalion. But there was no sign of C company, D company, the battalion CP, or trains. C company was thirty-five minutes behind schedule for some reason. Perhaps the battalion had learned about the problem at the bridge and had diverted C company to another route. If that were the case, C company could be in front of Team Yankee. Or C company could be lost. Or they could be held up in a massive traffic jam in one of the small villages. Bannon didn't have any idea what had gone wrong, but he did know that Team Bravo was in front of Team Yankee, continuing with its mission. Without the faintest idea as to what was going on behind the Team, all he could do was to carry on as ordered. When they closed up on Team Bravo, he hoped someone would be there who knew what was going on or had some new orders.

By 0520 Team Yankee was only three kilometers south of Kernsbach at the point where they were to turn off the road and begin to deploy. But rather than turn off, the tanks to his front began to deploy into another herringbone formation on alternating sides of the road. Bannon turned, signaled the FIST track to pull off, and told Ortelli to drive up to the head of the column and find 55. As 66 came up to the XO's tank, Bannon saw Major Jordan standing on the side of the road next to his PC. To prevent a cluster of parked vehicles, Bannon pulled off on the opposite side of the road. At this point, they were only six kilometers from the line of departure, the front.

Jordan stood next to Uleski across the road, looking unhappy and impatient to be on his way. He began talking while Bannon was still in the middle of the road. "There has been a change in plans. You're to pull your Team into an assembly area over there in the forest and await the word to move into the attack." He motioned to the northeast where a road coming out of Kernsbach disappeared into a forest between two hills. "The battalion column became separated last night. I'm going on back along the line of march and see if I can find the rest of our people."

"Any idea how long it's going to be before we move into the attack?" "Not until, and only if, we get this jug fuck unscrewed. For now, no one in this battalion is going to do any attacking. Any other questions?"

"Yeah, where's Team Bravo and any other friendly units?"

"Team Bravo is in position now as planned. Team Charlie, Task Force 2nd of the 93rd Mech is in the tree line just west of Kernsbach. The Scout Platoon from 2nd of the 93rd is in that wood lot just to the north. If you need to, contact them by radio. I gotta be rolling. Good luck."

Without waiting for further questions, Major Jordan climbed up onto his personnel carrier and took off down the road to the south as fast as his PC could roll. Bannon turned to Uleski, "Bob, go get the platoon leaders and double time them up here ASAP."

"On the way."

While the XO was gathering up the platoon leaders, Bannon put out his map on the front slope of 55 and for a moment studied the area where the Team was to go. He decided quickly to put the two tank platoons on the west, one on each side of the road, facing out where they would have good fields of fire. The Mech Platoon would go through the woods to the east side and straddle the road. He wanted to get the Team under cover and deployed.

As soon as the platoon leaders were gathered around the map, he gave his orders. "There has been a delay in the attack." The faces of the platoon leaders lit up as if the governor had just given them a last-minute reprieve. "We are going to move into an assembly area to the northeast. Second Platoon, you deploy here to the north of the road and orient to the west. Third Platoon, you deploy here and orient to the northwest. That will give you two crossing fires. Be advised, there are friendly scouts and a friendly company team here. So don't shoot unless you're sure they're Russians. Lieutenant Harding, you will deploy your platoon here on either side of the road. The XO will deploy with you. Once we're under cover, check out your tanks and tracks, boresight your main guns, and feed your people. As there is no way of telling how long we'll be here, treat this as you would any defensive position. If there are no questions, let's roll."

Garger stopped Bannon as he was about to pick up his map.

"I don't have a question, but I think you ought to be advised that 33 fell out about ten klicks down the road."

Uleski and Bannon stopped midstride and stared at Garger as he continued, "Sergeant Pierson stopped to see if he could help. O'Dell told him he suddenly lost all power. They tried to restart 33, but the engine kept aborting. I have the grid location of where 33 is."

"Give it to the XO when we get into the assembly area. Right now let's get off this road before some Russian jet jockey makes us all grease spots." With that, the group scattered and remounted.

The woods of the Staat Forest were easy to move through. It was a typical German forest, with the straight, tall trees well spaced in neat rows. The forest floor was as clear of clutter as if it had just been raked. As the tanks jockeyed into positions and shut down, the forest and the hills on either side trapped the noise and caused echoes. When all were shut down, Bannon could distinctly hear the conversations of other crews as they dismounted, stretched, and went about taking care of their tanks. The routine called for Folk and Bannon to check out the fire control, while Kelp and Ortelli checked the track and suspension. When the fire-control system was finished, they boresighted the main gun and checked the weapons.

The other crews nearby were beginning to break out their morning meal of dehydrated MREs. Folk pulled out an opened case and began to pass one out to each man. Normally there would be complaining and haggling to secure a better meal, but they were all tired and thankful that the road march was over and they had a break. Bannon munched on his cold meal, popping bits of dehydrated peaches into his mouth, causing his lips to pucker as the peach drew every bit of moisture from his tongue.

He pondered his next actions. It might not be a bad idea to go up to Team Bravo and do a visual recon of the area they were to cross. Objective LOG would be visible, as well as all the terrain the Team would have to cross. He finished all the MIZE that he wanted, stuffed what he wanted to eat later in a pocket, and threw the rest into an empty sandbag tied to the side of the turret that was used for trash. Kelp was sent to fetch Lieutenant Harding and one of his PCs for the recon and to tell Uleski he would be in command while Bannon was away.

Bannon went to gather up the two tank platoon leaders and the artillery FIST himself.

Once everyone was gathered and mounted in the PC, they moved out through the woods.

Bannon didn't want to expose the PC in the open. He also didn't want to come storming up behind Team Bravo and get blown away by a nervous gunner. It took ten minutes to reach Team Bravo. As he had feared, when they sighted each other, there were several weapons of various calibers trained on the track. He immediately stopped and identified himself. This task was made easier by the fact that several of the people in Team Bravo recognized Harding and the PC driver. Once they were accepted as friendly, they dismounted, left the PC to the rear of the position, and slowly moved forward to the north edge of the tree line.

The last few yards were covered on their bellies. From where they stopped, the leaders from Team Yankee could see everything. The village of Lemm was to the right front, the hill that was Objective LOG was directly to the front, and the village of Vogalburg was to the left front in the distance. As they lay there, an infantryman from Team Bravo crawled up behind Bannon and slapped the side of his boot. When he turned to find out what he wanted, the infantryman whispered that the colonel wanted to see him. Bannon left the platoon leaders and crawled back.

"Bannon, what in the hell are you doing here? Where is your goddamned company? Why are you on this fucking hill and not that one over there?" For a moment, Bannon was dumbfounded, just staring at the colonel, unable to understand why he was so excited. "I don't understand, sir. My Team is in the assembly area where we were ordered to move just south of here. I was waiting for the order to attack."

"Waiting! Waiting! Who the hell told you to wait? We've been up here for the last hour and a half waiting for you."

Bannon still wasn't understanding what was going on, but it appeared that there had been a disconnect between the colonel and the S-3. "Sir, the S-3 told me to put the Team into an assembly area and wait until the rest of the battalion closed up."

"I never gave such an order. The S-3 must have been mistaken. Now I want you to get your people moving and get up to LOG and Hill 214. IS THAT CLEAR?"

The colonel was beside himself with rage, while Bannon was equally angry at the implication that he had screwed up. But that was not the time or place to take up a point of personal honor. The colonel was yelling so loudly that Bannon was positive that his orders were clearly heard by all of the men in Team Bravo and every Russian in the area. "Then I understand that I am to attack without C company behind me."

"You let me worry about C company. You just get those people of yours moving. Now."

With that, the conversation was over, and the colonel left. Things were going to hell in a handbasket, and the Team was right in the middle of a bad situation. The idea of starting the attack with only half of the battalion on hand was, in

Bannon's mind, insane. He had, however, been given a direct order. The specter of the "Charge of the Light Brigade" and Pickett's Charge began to loom before him. He had to find an out fast.

As the PC moved back, Bannon's mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to find a way out or around this dilemma. An order had been given. In his heart and mind he knew that it was wrong for the Team to go all the way to Hill 214 on its own. Yet he couldn't get around the order. Not immediately. A partial solution slowly began to take shape. The Team could at least attack and seize LOG. Conditions for that part of the operation were still favorable.

Team Bravo was in overwatch. The artillery could still support that maneuver. If the Team took LOG unopposed, they could then maneuver against Hill 214 in a slow and deliberate manner. The colonel told him to move, but he didn't say how fast. If the Team hit some, or a lot of resistance on LOG, he would be able to use his discretion as a commander and hold onto LOG until C company appeared or Team Bravo moved up to support. It was decided, then. Team Yankee would comply but with extreme caution. They were going to take this one step at a time and hope for the best.

Uleski and First Sergeant Harrert met the personnel carrier as it pulled up next to 66. "First Sergeant, when did you get here? Is C company here too?" "I've been here for about fifteen minutes. I haven't seen C company since last night. In fact, after I left the column, I didn't see anyone in the battalion until 1 came up to O'Dell and 33."

"What do you mean, left the column? Where are they? Why did you leave the column?"

"Well, sir, you see, it's like this. We weren't on the road an hour before the company we were following made a wrong turn. We began to go in circles, up dirt roads, down dirt roads, through side streets in villages where the M-88s got stuck, and on and on for two hours. At one of our halts while we were waiting for an M-88 to turn around, I went up to the captain leading the column and asked him if he knew where he was. When he showed me a spot on his map that was two map sheets to the west of where we really were, I tried to explain to him that he was wrong. Well, it had been a long, hard night for him, and he wasn't about to listen to an obnoxious NCO. He told me to get back to my track and get ready.

SO i saw o iiyxu, iui going iv find the company.' I went back, pulled my track, the ambulance track, and the M-88 out of column and took off looking for you. That boy had his head so far up his fourth point of contact that I doubt he knows we left."

"Well, I really wish you could have brought C company with you. Even so, it's good to have you here. You're the first good thing that has happened all day. Besides, you're just in time for the attack."

Uleski, who had been eyeing the platoon leaders and wondering why they were so glum, turned his head and exclaimed, "Do what? Attack now? Without the rest of the battalion?!"

Bannon knew the platoon leaders had heard everything that had gone on between him and the colonel. They were waiting to see his reaction and how he was going to approach this nightmare. It would serve no one to bitch and moan. The last thing the Team needed right now was for the leadership to go into a potentially costly operation with a negative attitude. It would take a lot of finesse to convince the platoon leaders and Uleski that they could pull it off. But if Bannon could do it, they would have a fighting chance. With all the positive enthusiasm he could generate, given the mission, he began issuing new orders.

"Gather around and listen up, gents, while I tell you how we're going to skin this cat. The situation and the conditions for the first part of the operation, the attack on LOG, are still the same. If anything, we have improved the odds. We've had a break, boresighted the guns, checked the tracks, had breakfast, and got a chance to recon the area some. Team Bravo is in position and ready. So we will go as we had planned. Lieutenant Harding, you will start the move by bringing your platoon up the road. As before, your platoon will be in the middle with my tank hanging onto your far right track. The two tank platoons will start their move when the Mech Platoon comes up even to them.. Both tank platoons will move out in an echelon formation. Second Platoon, you'll refuse your right. Third Platoon, you'll refuse your left. When we get out in the open between those two tree lines, the whole Team will pivot on 2nd Platoon, move through the gap and head for Objective LOG. As we move on LOG, I want to give the village of Lemm a wide berth, just in case the Russians are in there. So don't crowd the 2nd Platoon. "

"Lieutenant Unger, I want you to contact your guns and have them locked, loaded, and ready to fire on LOG the instant we receive fire. All you should have to do is yell shoot. Don't wait for me or anyone else to tell you, just do it.

"Lieutenant U, as 3rd Platoon is short a tank, I want you to team up with Pierson and play wingman. That way you won't be so obvious hanging out there all by yourself in the center.

"Once we're on LOG, we'll size up the situation before we roll on to Objective LINK. If no one comes up to cover our move, 3rd Platoon will take up positions on the far side of LOG and overwatch the move of 2nd Platoon followed by the Mech Platoon. We will move up onto LINK as planned, 3rd Platoon coming up on order. I'll be between the Mech and 2nd Platoon. Do you have any questions?"

The platoon leaders looked at him, they looked at each other, then looked back to their commander, and shook their heads negatively. "All right then, Lieutenant Harding, I want you to start your move in twenty-five minutes. 1 have exactly 0835 hours. Let's roll." The platoon leaders saluted and went their separate ways. The XO and first sergeant stayed. Uleski was the first to speak.

"Are we going to be able to pull this off?"

"Well, Bob, like I said, as far as the first part of the attack, if anything, we're in better shape.

It's the second part that's shaky. It's my intention to take my time going from LOG to LINK. The longer we take, the better the chances are that the rest of the battalion will close up. If we're hit hard getting onto LOG, I'm going to hold at LOG until the battalion commander either moves up Team Bravo to support or D company comes up. I think that's the only way we can play it.

"Agreed. But once we're out in the open, the other people may not like us taking one of their hills and try to take it back. Those Russians get very possessive of land once they take it."

"Yeah, well, that's why I said we are going to have to play it by ear when we get on top of LOG. I don't intend to jump out beyond LOG on our own unless I'm sure we can do so and talk about it tonight. And if you take over, I expect you to do the same. Use your discretion. Clear?"

"Clear, boss. Got any more good news?"

"No, none that I can think of. If I do, you'll be the first to know."

With that Uleski turned and headed for 55. Bannon then turned to Harrert.

"First Sergeant, there are some people over there in those woods from the Scout Platoon of the 2nd of the 93rd Mech. Take your track, the bandaid, and the 88 over there and let them know what we're about to do. I doubt if anyone else has coordinated with them. If there are mines or some kind of danger that they know about, get on the radio and call me ASAP. Stay there until we get up on LOG, then close up on us on LOG if you can."

"I don't have the 88 with me right now. I left it with 33. But I'll take the bandaid and get moving unless you have something else."

"No, that about covers it all. See you on LOG."

Bannon's positive attitude and confident spiel did little to relieve the doubts and foreboding he had about the upcoming attack. He didn't know if he had sold anyone. He certainly hadn't sold himself. There were twenty-two minutes to go before the Mech Platoon began to move. Time to mount up and wait. As he did so, the crew of 66 watched him. They had heard the orders and didn't look very convinced.

Bannon thought that the old saying, "You can't fool all the people," was true.

Now that the issue had been decided, and the wheels had been set in motion, Bannon was anxious to get on with it. There was still the gnawing fear that they were about to stick their collective neck out and lose their head. It wasn't going to be a peacetime training exercise.

There wouldn't be the after-action critique to discuss who did well and who didn't. This was really it. The graves registration people, either Russian or U.S., would be the ones sorting out the winners from the losers this time. Still, there was also the possibility that the Team just might pull this off. He had to think positively. Be positive. They had to go out there and make things happen. Like the roll-call sergeant on "Hill Street Blues" would say, "Let's do it to them, before they do it to us."

The Mech Platoon began to come even with the rest of the Team. As they broke out of the tree line, they began to deploy into a wedge formation. When their last track was in the open, Bannon gave Ortelli the order to move and joined the formation to the right and a little behind the far right personnel carrier. Unger and his track did likewise behind 66. The 2nd Platoon then began to deploy, each track always a little to the right and a little farther behind the track in front. When the entire Team was deployed, it formed a large wedge that measured 700 to 800 meters at the base and had a depth of 500 meters. In this formation they could deal with any threat that appeared to the front or to either flank. When they began to pivot on 2nd Platoon and turn north, Bannon saw the first sergeant's track and the bandaid waiting in the tree line behind the scout platoon position. Harrert stood just out from the tree line alone and watched the Team deploy and turn. The first sergeant, whom he had known for several years, was reliable, steady, and a damned good tanker. He was a good man to have near in a tight spot. Bannon wondered for a moment what he was thinking of as he watched his company roll into the attack. Given the chance, Harrert would have traded places with anyone in the

Team. His company was going into the attack, and he was staying behind. He turned to walk away, went a few paces, stopped, glanced over his shoulder one more time, then disappeared into the tree line.

The young Soviet lieutenant played with the remains of his breakfast. It wasn't fit to eat, he thought, so he might as well get some other pleasure from it. The men of his small unit sat around finishing their meals or simply enjoying the chance to rest. The entire company, or more correctly, what was left of the company, had spent all night preparing fighting positions on the small hill overlooking a town named Lemm. Since there had been no engineer support available, all the work had been done by hand. On the first day of the war, the company had been with the first attack echelon. Heavy losses, including all of its officers except for the lieutenant, resulted in the company being pulled out on the second day. But instead of going into reserve, they had been sent to establish an outpost on the regiment's flank. The lieutenant didn't much care for the mission. With the exception of three tanks in Lemm, they were all alone. He looked at the collection of tired soldiers he had and decided if a fight did come, it wouldn't last long. Letting his mind wander, he thought that things could have been worse; the regiment could have sent a political officer with him.

As the Team passed between the two tree lines and crested a small hill, the terrain beyond opened up before it. The hill that was Objective LOG was directly in front about four kilometers away. The German countryside was lush and green on this August morning, just like any ordinary August morning. There wasn't anything to indicate the fact of a world war.

The very idea that this quiet and beautiful landscape was a battlefield seemed absurd.

But it was a battlefield. As the Team moved out from its last cover, all eyes for kilometers around were turning on it.

The Scout Platoon to the left, and Team Bravo on the right, watched Team Yankee as it rolled forward. The Team was ready for battle. Guns were oriented to cover their assigned sectors and all but the track commanders were buttoned up and ready for action. Team Bravo and the scouts watched in morbid curiosity, waiting to see what would happen next and thankful that they weren't the ones out in the open.

The other people, the Soviets, also watched. Their reaction was different. They began their scramble to meet the American movement. Reports were flashed to their commanders.

Gunners threw down their mess tins and slid into position. Loaders and ammo bearers prepared to load the next round. A new battlefield was about to mar the muchcontested Germany countryside. Team Yankee had two obstacles that had to be negotiated. The first was a railroad embankment that ran across their front. Going over it wasn't the problem. All the tracks could do that. The problem was that it required the Team to slow down. It would break up the formation momentarily, and as the tracks went over it, their soft underbellies would be exposed to direct fire. If they were going to be hit, this is where Bannon expected it. The first track came up and began to go over. Bannon held his breath as he watched the PC crest the embankment, hang there for a moment fully exposed, then drop down to the other side. Two more PCs followed and dropped down to the other side. Nothing happened. The PCs rolled on. Perhaps the Russians were waiting for the tanks. Perhaps they wanted to let the PCs go over and let the embankment separate the Team before firing.

Then it was 66's turn. Ortelli slowed 66 until it made contact with the embankment. As soon as the tracks bit into the embankment, he gunned the engine, and 66 began to rise up. Folk, by instinct, depressed the gun to keep it level with the far horizon. Bannon grabbed the commander's override, ready to elevate the gun once they were on the other side. If he didn't, the depressed gun would dig itself into the ground as 66 went down the other side. As the tank crested the embankment and started down, Ortelli switched from accelerator to brake, and Bannon jerked the commander's override back, elevating the gun. Folk kept fighting for control of the gun but didn't get it back until 66 was level again. He then reoriented the gun and continued his search for targets.

As 66 continued forward, Bannon turned in the cupola and watched the rest of the Team come over the embankment two at a time. Satisfied that they were not going to be hit there, he turned back to the front and eyed the next obstacle, a stream that, like the railroad embankment, ran perpendicular to their direction of travel. The first PC was already down in the stream and halfway across when he turned around. The stream was small and shallow but years of erosion had created a ditch some twenty meters wide with embankments a meter high. Ortelli eased 66 down into the streambed, crossed and began to climb the far bank. They were halfway up when the shit hit the fan.

Several flashes from Objective LOG were followed almost instantly by a thud and the appearance of a column of dirt in front of 66. "REVERSE! REVERSE! GET BACK IN THE DITCH!" The sudden change in direction threw everyone on 66 forward. Bannon reached for the smoke grenade dischargers and fired a volley. The six grenades launched and shrouded 66 in a curtain of white smoke as the tank settled back down in the streambed.

Grabbing the radio switch on the side of his CVC, Bannon keyed the Team net. "ALL BRAVO 3 ROMEO ELEMENTS — DEPLOY INTO LINE IN THE STREAMBED-BREAK-ZULU 77-BRING YOUR PEOPLE BACK-THIS IS ROMEO 25-OUT."

Commanders are paid to make decisions. Sometimes, there is ample time to consider all the angles, to analyze the situation, develop several courses of action, compare each, and then decide which alternative is best. Then there are occasions when there is no time for all that-occasions when the commander must see, decide and act in almost the same instant. This was one of those times.

"GUNNER, STAND BY TO ENGAGE."

Bannon looked to his right and saw the FIST track halted next to his. The 2nd Platoon was entering the streambed and pulling up. He turned to his left and saw two of the PCs plop back into the streambed. They had also fired their grenade launchers. He turned back to the front. The smoke was beginning to dissipate. Off to the front left about fifty meters from 66, a PC was stopped in the open and on fire. There was a burning man hanging from the troop door in the back of the vehicle. Bright flames spilled out of the door and the hatches on top. The 66 had been exceedingly lucky. The PC hadn't been.

The turret of 66 suddenly jerked to the right as Folk yelled out an acquisition report without bothering to key the intercom. "ENEMY TANK-TWELVE O'CLOCK."

"GUNNER-SABOT-TANK." Bannon dropped down to view through the commander's extension. He couldn't see the target.

"UP! " "FIRE!"

"ON THE WAAAY!"

Tank 66 rocked back as the main gun went off. The view to the front was obstructed by the muzzle blast and dust it created.

Folk yelled out his sensing of the round he had fired. "TARGET!"

Bannon put his eye up to the extension and confirmed Folk's sensing. The enemy tank he had not seen before was now clearly visible as it burned. But he had a Team to run. He had no time to play tank commander right now. He had to let Folk search for his own targets and engage them when he found them. "CEASE FIRE-FIRE AND ADJUST."

"ROMEO 25-THIS IS TANGO 77-ON LINE AND READY-OVER." 2nd Platoon was ready.

"ROGER TANGO 77." "ROMEO 25-THIS IS ZULU 77-READY-OVER."

"ROMEO 25-THIS IS MIKE 77-READY-OVER." The Mech and 3rd Platoons were ready. "SPLASH-OVER." The artillery.

The hill that was Objective LOG appeared to lift up as the artillery impacted. Bits of trees and fountains of dirt rose up above the tree line.

"BRAVO 3 ROMEO ELEMENTS-THIS IS ROMEO 25-MOVE-MOVE-MOVE! LIMA 61-KEEP THE ARTY COMING." As one, Team Yankee lurched forward. For the second time, 66 moved up over the stream bank.

This time Ortelli had the accelerator to the floor. The tank flopped down on level ground with a bang and took off at a dead run. A line of three tanks and three PCs to the left of 66 were also out of the streambed and charging forward past the burning PC. The tank that had been to the right of 66 was stopped, half hanging out of the streambed. It was burning and shuddering as its on-board ammo blew up. Second Lieutenant McAlister was dead. The rest of the 2nd Platoon was out and rolling further to the right, firing as they moved. Folk yelled out again. "LOADER-LOAD SABOTTANK!" "UP! "

"ON THE WAAAY!"

Again 66 shuddered as the main gun fired, recoiled, and spewed out a spent shell casing.

This time the obscuration didn't cling to the tank as 66 rolled through the dust cloud created by the muzzle blast. Bannon turned to see what Folk had been firing at but saw only a column of dirt. He had missed whatever it was. Not that it mattered. Another tank to the left got it. A brilliant flash and a shower of sparks marked the Soviet tank that had been Folk's target.

A quick survey of Objective LOG revealed four burning vehicles of which two were definitely tanks. The other two were partially hidden but emitting billowing clouds of flames and black smoke. Freshly dug dirt was now visible just inside the tree line. There were Soviet infantrymen dug in on the objective. Bannon had no intention of fighting it out with the Soviets on LOG. He did not want to dismount the Mech Platoon in the open. "BRAVO 3 ROMEO-THIS IS ROMEO 25-THERE ARE DUG-IN TROOPS ON LOGWE WILL CONTINUE TO ATTACK THROUGH-DO NOT DISMOUNT OR STOP ON THE-"

His transmission was cut short by two huge explosions on either side of 66. The tank bucked violently from side to side. He lost his footing and fell to the floor. Kelp reached down to help him as he struggled to climb back up into the commander's cupola. Kelp yelled over the engine noise, "ARE YOU OK?"

"Yeah. Get ready to man your machine gun!"

"Your face is bleeding."

Bannon took one hand and touched his face. When he pulled it away there was blood on it.

But it couldn't be too bad. He was still moving and talking. He had to regain control of the tank and the Team. With an effort, he boosted himself up and back into place.

The scene outside was chaos. The explosions that had rocked 66 were from Soviet artillery.

Tank 66 was on the verge of rolling out of the impact area. To the right there were still two tanks moving. One of the 2nd Platoon tanks was several hundred meters to the rear; just sitting there. The FIST track was also gone. To the left there were also two tanks still moving and closing up on 66. The missing 3rd Platoon tank was nowhere to be seen. The Mech Platoon PCs were falling behind and, as a result, were still in the middle of where the Soviet artillery was impacting. Bannon could make out only two PCs bobbing and weaving through the columns of flame and dirt. Seven vehicles. That's all the Team had left.

Seven out of fourteen vehicles.

"TROOPS-TWELVE O'CLOCK! ENGAGING WITH COAX!"

Folk's call pulled Bannon's attention back to the front. They were now within three hundred meters of the objective. Several Soviet infantrymen had popped up to engage them head-on with RPGs. The total stupidity of that was beyond comprehension. They were now being cut down by the machine-gun fire from 66 and the surviving tanks without being able to hurt the tracks. An RPG just wasn't going to stop an M-l head-on, regardless of how brave the gunner was. Tank commanders began to cut loose with the caliber .50, spraying rounds in wild arcs and patterns and, in general, adding to the mayhem. An American tank would fire an occasional HEAT round, adding to the effect of the friendly artillery that was still impacting on LOG. In another minute, the four tanks that were still with 66 would be on the obj ective.

The destruction of their tanks, the steady artillery fire, and the failure of their RPG gunners to stop the rush of Team Yankee were too much for the survivors. Just as the Team was about to enter the tree line, individual Soviet troops began to flee to the rear. To the right of 66, a hidden Soviet BTR-60 personnel carrier began to back up, seeking to escape. But its movement gave it away, and it was destroyed by a 2nd Platoon tank. Kelp was up on his machine gun, firing at individual Soviet soldiers as they fled helter-skelter to get out of the way.

Just as 66 entered the tree line, a lone Soviet soldier rose up out of a trench not twenty meters to the right of 66 and aimed an RPG straight at Bannon. He panicked. He tried to traverse the M2 to the right to engage the Soviet but he knew in his heart he wouldn't make it in time. The Russian calmly took aim and prepared to fire. He knew he had 66 and there wasn't a damned thing Bannon could do to stop him.

But luck hadn't given out yet. The Russian was suddenly kicked backwards as a stream of machine-gun rounds hit him in his chest. A 2nd Platoon tank had come up, seen the RPG gunner, and fired. The relief Bannon felt was incredible. For the second time in a matter of minutes, 66 had been saved by the slimmest of margins.

The Soviet lieutenant watched the American tanks rumble by. He was overwhelmed by alternating rushes of fear, anger, and helplessness. All their efforts had been for nothing. The American tanks had ripped through his position as if he hadn't been there.

Catching his breath, the lieutenant began to survey the scene. Some of his men were coming up from the bottoms of their foxholes. Looking back over the field to his front, he saw several personnel carriers closing on his positions. "Well," he thought out loud, "if we can't kill the tanks, we'll kill the American infantry." With that, he grabbed an RPG from a dead man and bounded over to some of his men to rally them and continue the fight.

The five tanks of Team Yankee were now in a staggered line moving forward through the woods. Friendly artillery had stopped falling, probably as a result of a call from Team Bravo.

After entering the woods a hundred meters, the tanks lost contact with the Soviets. There was also no sign of any other positions. Bannon decided to stop and wait for the Mech Platoon. "ALL BRAVO 3 ROMEO ELEMENTS THAT ARE WITH ME-STOP AND FORM A COIL–I SAY AGAIN-STOP AND FORM A COIL-WE WILL WAIT FOR THE ZULU 77 ELEMENT TO CLOSE UP OVER."

The other tanks did not slow down. Bannon called again but got no response. The radio was keying, but for some reason the other tanks were not hearing his transmissions. Instead of stopping, they were, in fact, beginning to speed up. He called a third time with no luck. To make matters worse, artillery began to fall on them. He assumed it was Soviet but couldn't tell. This caused the other TCs to crouch low in their cupolas and orient to their front as they directed their drivers. Ortelli kept twisting through the woods, alternately trying to avoid artillery and pick a trail through the trees.

As the tanks emerged from the far side of the woods, 66 suddenly slid to the right and stopped with a violent jerk that knocked Kelp and Bannon over to the right. As they tried to regain balance, Ortelli gunned the engine. But 66 did not move. Bannon stuck his head out and saw that they had slid sideways into a shell hole. Ortelli tried again to drive out but failed. They were stuck. And to his front, Bannon watched the last of Team Yankee's tanks, all four, continue to roll on toward Hill 214, Objective LINK.