CHAPTER 13 TO THE SAALE

Dawn of the tenth day of war revealed the full extent of their success. Over eighty Soviet vehicles lay smashed and strewn in the Langen Gap. The largest gaggle of burned-out hulks lay scattered about between Langen and Team Yankee’s positions. A few of the tanks had been less than fifty meters away from Team Yankee when they had been knocked out. The battalion, heavily outnumbered and outgunned, by all rights should have paid dearly for holding the gap. But it had held and had done so cheaply was mostly due to favorable ground, thorough planning and preparation before the battle, and an enemy whose ridged tactical doctrine gave commanders little freedom to deal with a sudden and unexpected crisis.

Yet despite the magnitude of what they had done, there was no visible sign of joy or pride to be found among the tank crews and infantry squads that made up Team Yankee that morning. The efforts of the previous day and night, the emotional roller coaster caused by fleeting brushes with death and brief but intense periods of combat had taken their toll. When Bannon trooped the line shortly after dawn, he was greeted with simple nods or stares by those who were still awake. Uleski, stretched out on top of Alpha 55, was sound asleep. Deciding his XO needed his sleep more than he needed him, Bannon left instructions with Gwent to have him report to Alpha 66 when he woke.

In the Mech Platoon area Polgar had split his men up evenly, with half of them in the foxholes on alert and the rest back at their tracks. Since the mud in the foxholes hadn’t begun to dry and wouldn’t do so anytime soon, Polgar allowed those men who weren’t on duty to stay in their PCs where they could sleep where it was dry. Polgar himself was sitting with his back against a tree, his M-16 cradled in his arms, asleep when Bannon came upon him. As with Uleski, Bannon didn’t bother waking him, leaving the same message he’d given to Uleski’s gunner with the squad leader in charge.

Only when he was satisfied there was nothing more he needed to do did Bannon make his way back to Alpha 66 where he settled in to enjoy, as best one can, an MRE.

* * *

The morning passed quietly. The Team simply remained in position and watched the area to its front for any signs of activity. The chore of sweeping the battlefield after the last of the scatterable mines had self-destructed was left up to Delta Company. This operation gave rise to random shots being fired that no one paid much attention.

Working in small groups, the patrols sent out by The Delta Company commander stopped at each Soviet vehicle to check it. When they were satisfied that the vehicle was harmless, the NCO in charge would mark it with chalk. Those tracks that were still burning were given wide berth. The bodies strewn about the field were also checked. Not many Soviet crewmen had managed to abandon their tanks and tracks when they had been hit. Some had, however, and in spite of the machinegun fire laid down by Team Yankee and Delta Company, a few had survived. When a wounded Russian was found, the patrol would stop and call for medics. An ambulance track darted from place to place picking up those who could be saved. The patrols even came across a few Russians who had managed to hide or play dead through the night. Those who showed even the slightest reluctance to surrender were not given a second chance by infantrymen who were in no mood to be charitable.

* * *

Bannon waited until at 1100 hours to put word out to the platoons to roust everyone and start checking their tracks and cleaning weapons. When Uleski came around, blurry-eyed and rumpled, Bannon instructed him to compile a complete status of the Team on ammo, fuel, other POL needs, maintenance problems, and personnel needs for each vehicle by noon. At that time Bannon intended to have a short meeting with the platoon leaders to go their current status and give them any news from battalion that he could come up with. Still not quite awake, the best Uleski could come up with by way of response was a sigh, a nod, and a mumbled “Roger, Out” before setting about his tasks.

Kelp and Bannon already had a good head-start on the task of cleaning up and preparing for the next battle. They had spent the morning cleaning 66’s three machineguns as well as their own pistols while watching Delta Company’s patrols go about their grim tasks in the valley below. Although Kelp had matured a great deal, he was still fascinated by some of the more gruesome aspects of war. Every so often, as he was sitting on top of the turret cleaning a machinegun, he would stop what he was doing and yell out to Bannon. “There goes another one!” Grabbing Bannon’s binoculars, he would watch as a patrol stopped to dispatch a Russian who had been hiding and had chosen to flee rather than surrender. After each chase was terminated, usually in a most direct and brutal manner, he would offer his views and critique the patrol’s performance, noting that they were using way too much ammunition to bring down the Russians they stumbled upon. When Bannon offered to arrange it so that Kelp could go out there and show the infantry how to do it, he lightened up on his remarks, but continued to watch.

* * *

It wasn’t until well after noon that Bannon met with Major Jordan, who had been called to brigade headquarters midmorning. On his return, he, in turn, gathered his commanders and staff into Langen for a meeting. He had new orders.

Both the battalion’s mission and its organization had changed. Team Yankee, with all three of its organic tank platoons and one mech platoon was being returned to 1st of the 4th Armor. What was left of the 3rd of the 78th was to remain at Langen to cover the Langen gap and serve as a reserve for the Division. Major Jordan explained the reasoning behind all this and what he knew of “The Big Picture.”

Division expected the Soviets would renew their efforts to break into the Division’s flank even as they were throwing whatever forces they could scrape up between the brigade’s lead element and the Saale River. Thus far the brigade had been able to continue the advance, but at an ever mounting cost. At the rate the 1st of the 4th was taking casualties, Major Jordan pointed out, it would soon be combat ineffective.

The problem facing the Division, and the rest of the US Army in Europe, was that it was running out of equipment. Prepositioned war stocks of tanks, personnel carriers, trucks, and all the hardware needed to wage a modern war had run out. Some equipment was arriving from the States, but not near enough to replace equipment at the rate it was being lost. Even if the Navy could provide the necessary sealift to carry what was needed and move it across the Atlantic without losing it to Russian submarines, there wasn’t enough equipment available in the States to make good the loses being sustained by the United States Army in Europe, known by its acronym USAREUR. At prewar levels, which most of the factories were still operating at, the US could only produce a pitifully small number of M-l tanks a month. USAREUR was currently losing the equivalent of one month’s production of tanks each and every day.

The solution to this problem was simple, but draconian. Since there wasn’t enough to keep all units at or near full strength, only those units still capable of carrying out offensive operations or holding critical sectors would be receiving any replacements of men and equipment for the foreseeable future. The 3rd of the 78th, which was no longer capable of offensive operations, was one of those units that fell in that latter category.

“That doesn’t mean we’re out of the fight,” Major Jordan cautioned his commanders and staff. “Our orders are to hold Langen and parry any renewed efforts by the Soviet’s to punch trough into the brigade’s flank while the balance of the brigade continues to push north.”

Major Jordan had no need to elaborate what that meant. Without Team Yankee, the battalion would be down to two understrength mech infantry companies. If the Soviets did manage to find the forces necessary to make a new attack through the Langen Gap, the odds of stopping them were slim. “Division G-2, relying on the old Russian maxim of never reinforcing failure, does not expect another attack here,” Jordan pointed out. “Still, they don’t discount that possibility.”

Needless to say, this left everyone in the room, save Bannon, in a somber mood. After issuing some initial planning guidance to the commanders of Team Bravo and Delta Company, he dismissed them. When they were gone, he gave Bannon instructions on when and where Team Yankee was to link up with the 1st of the 4th. Prior to leaving to return to his Team, Bannon coordinated with the battalion S-4 for rearming and refueling before the Team departed that evening. Then, with no further business in Langen and much to tend to, he too headed out, leaving Major Jordan to huddle with his staff in order to work up a new plan for holding Langen with what they had left.

* * *

News that the Team would be returning to 1st of the 4th was welcomed by Uleski, Garger and SFC Hebrock. Even Sergeant Polgar seemed to be pleased, explaining that as far as he was concerned, it really didn’t matter to him where his platoon went so long as it stayed with Team Yankee. When Bannon thanked him for his vote of confidence, Polgar replied that confidence had nothing to do with it. According to him, the chow in Team Yankee had always been good, and good food meant he had fewer complaints to listen to from his men.

Second Lieutenant Murray Weiss, the leader of 1st Platoon, was particularly happy to be back to the Team. He had the honor of being the company’s only Jew, a fact that left him open to a great deal of ethnic humor. Fortunately, like Bob Uleski, he had an almost infinite capacity to absorb incoming jokes and return them in kind, a trick he had learned at an early age. Weiss’s decision to make the military his career had come as quite a shock to his family. The US Army was not normally something that college-educated Jewish boys were taught to aspire to. But Murray had deep convictions. The Israeli tankers who had fought in the Sinai and on the Golan in ’73 had been his childhood heroes. While his friends aspired to be doctors or lawyers, he dreamed of being a tanker like Gen. Mordecai Tal or Avigdor Kahalani. Weiss’s performance before and during the war showed he was well on his way to achieving that dream.

The Team had much to do before it began its move shortly after nightfall. As badly as the 1st of the 4th needed them, to leave their positions before dark would telegraph to the Soviets the weakness of the Langen Gap. Though no one at brigade or Division expected it would not take the Soviets all that long to figure out the tanks were no longer with 3rd of the 78th, no one was willing to make discovering that fact easy for them.

Even with the move several hours off, the leadership and men were kept busy. Bannon spent a great deal of time going over his thoughts on what needed to be done in regards to organization, rearming, refueling, and other such details with Uleski. He also gave him all the information he had on when the Team was to move, its route, and final destination. “I’ll be taking the first sergeant’s track and going to the headquarters of the 1st of the 4th to get additional information and, maybe even an operations order,” he informed his XO. “If I’m not back in time, you’re to start the move without me. Since I expect 1st of the 4th will be part of the final drive to the Saale, so the sooner I find out what the Old Man has in mind for us, the more time I’ll have to plan and the get the Team ready.”

* * *

The trip to the 1st of the 4th Armor’s headquarters took him back into the main valley that the Team had advanced into the previous day and through the town of Korberg. The valley had changed overnight. Roads that had previously been barren of any traffic save an occasional tracked vehicle was now crowded with convoys of trucks carrying fuel, munitions, and other supplies forward and empty trucks coming back. There were also numerous grim reminders of the cost the brigade had paid for the progress it had made. Along the way Bannon passed an aid station set up outside Korberg that was drawing ambulances bearing freshly wounded soldiers like a magnet, keeping doctors and its medical staff busy. No doubt, he thought to himself, he would soon be adding more of his own to those already there.

Farther north, he came upon evidence that told him 1st of the 4th had not had an easy time after they had passed through 3rd of the 78th. M-ls, PCs, Soviet tanks, and smashed wheeled vehicles of every type and description attested to the severity of their fight. In the fields on either side of the road maintenance recovery teams were busy retrieving those tanks and personnel carriers they deemed to be repairable in a reasonable amount of time. As he passed a maintenance collection point he recognized several of the mechanics from 1st of the 4th. They were busy piecing together a track and a set of road wheels scavenged from one disabled tank in an effort to get another that looked as if it had hit a mine ready for the next attack. This was no easy task, for each track of an M-1 tank consisted of eighty track blocks, eighty center guides, and one hundred sixty end connectors that, when assembled, weighed two tons. Were it not for the tireless efforts of these people, many of the units that were still in the fight, including Team Yankee, would have ceased to exist a long time ago.

* * *

Bannon found both Lieutenant Colonel Hill and Major Shell at the battalion TOC. Along with the battalion intelligence officer, Capt. Ken Damato, they were discussing the upcoming operation in front of the intelligence map. Having no wish to interrupt them, and eager to find out what they would soon be expecting of his Team, Bannon stood in the background and listened.

Apparently Hill already had a plan in mind and was merely getting an update on enemy units recently reported entering the area of operations and their activities. Damato was pointing out several Soviet battalion-sized units northeast of the Saale that had been located and were being tracked. Never one to miss an opportunity to add a bit of levity to a task that was, by its very nature, grim, across the top of the intelligence map in the area north of the river he had printed “HERE BE RUSSIANS” in large red letters in the same way ancient mariners did when charting unknown waters.

Major Shell was the first to take note of Bannon, “Well, prodigal son returns. What happened? Did the infantry finally get tired of putting up with you and turn you out with the cat?”

“Something like that,” Bannon replied as he made his way up to the map where greetings were exchanged. Like Major Jordan and his staff, Hall, Shell and Damato were haggard and tired. Without any further ado, Colonel Hill asked Bannon how much he knew of the upcoming operation.

He informed his colonel that other than the fact that he had been told where and when to report, he knew nothing. Upon hearing this, Hall told Major Shell and Damato to go over the operation with him. When they were finished, he turned back to Bannon and told him he was to see him when the S-2 and S-3 were finished. With that, Colonel Hall headed out to wash up.

The operation that Major Shell laid out before Bannon was nothing more than a continuation of the attack toward the Saale 1st of the 4th had been engaged in since passing through 3rd of the 78th. There were a few new twists to the way 3rd of the 78th had approached the same problem, but basically it was the same. At that time 2nd of the 94th Mech Infantry was hacking its way through a defensive belt the Soviets had hastily thrown up across the brigade’s axis of attack. While it was not nearly as impressive as the Soviet defensive doctrine called for, it was proving to be enough to grind down the 2nd of the 94th. Progress was slow and the brigade commander did not believe that there would be enough of that battalion left to make the final push needed to reach the Saale.

That’s where the 1st of the 4th came in. Since closing up behind the 2nd of the 94th early that morning, 1st of the 4th had been preparing for a river-crossing operation. All available assets were being concentrated in the battalion for this final push. If 2nd of the 94th’s attack stalled by nightfall, brigade’s plan called for the 1st of the 4th to pass through the 2nd of the 94th and continue the attack. Once at the Saale, 1st of the 4th would make an assault crossing and establish a bridgehead. As soon as the engineers had a bridge in place, other elements of the 25th Armored Division, now in reserve, would pass through the battalion and continue the drive on Berlin, leaving the 1st of the 4th to protect the crossing point.

The attack of the 1st of the 4th was not the only effort that would be going on that night. The 2nd Brigade would also be attempting to make an assault crossing of the Saale farther to the west. Their mission was identical to 1st of the 4th’s. They were to establish a bridgehead, allow the 25th Armored to pass, then protect the flank. It was hoped that both efforts would succeed. The 25th Armored, however, was hedging its bets. The first battalion to make it across and secure a viable bridgehead would become the main effort. The other battalion, if it were still combat effective, would make its way to the bridgehead that had been secured.

Ken Damato went over what he knew of current enemy situation. Until that morning, the Soviets had been trying to stop the Division’s drive through counterattacks, head-on and in the flanks. Like 3rd of the 78th, 1st of the 4th had fought the better part of a tank regiment the previous night after a meeting engagement in the valley. While the Soviet tank regiment had been stopped, so had the 1st of the 4th. That is why the 2nd of the 94th had been passed through it. That battalion had been fighting its way through a series of platoon and company sized strong points since midnight. Progress had been steady, but slow and costly. Reconnaissance of the area immediately south and north of the river showed little indication that the Soviet defense had any depth. “Division believes they’ve shot their wad,” Damato informed Bannon. “The new enemy units G-2 has identified moving into the area are believed to be fragments of shattered units being thrown in as a last resort.”

“Kind of like us,” Bannon remarked.

“Yeah, kind of like us,” the S-2 muttered as if to himself before continuing. “If that proves to be the case, the prevailing belief is that once we’re across the Saale, they’ll be little, if anything, that will keep us from pushing to Berlin itself.”

Major Shell took over from Damato at this point. “The plan’s simple, Sean. Once 2nd of the 94th has cleared the last of the Soviet positions, or if it finds it can no longer continue, 1st of the 4th would pass through it and make for the river. No finesse, no grandiose schemes of maneuver, just a mad dash for the river at the best possible speed. The battalion has orders not to stop. The brigade commander wants us to vault across and establish the bridgehead on the run. The idea is to establish a secure bridgehead before the Soviets can do anything about it.”

“The problem with such a simple plan is that once the battalion started rolling, the Soviets would be able to figure out where it was going and what it intended to do,” Damato pointed out when Major Shell paused. “It won’t take them long to figure out what we’re up to, if they don’t already know.”

“What we can do,” Shell continued, “is confuse and deceive them as to where the main effort was going. To this end, a reinforced company team will create a diversion for the purpose of deceiving the Soviets as to what thrust constitutes our main effort.”

At this point, Shell took to staring at Bannon with an expression that told him that was where Team Yankee came in.

“Team Yankee, with three tank platoons, a mech infantry platoon and the battalion Scout Platoon attached will conduct a supporting attack on the battalion’s right,” Shell informed Bannon. “Your mission is to give the appearance that Team Yankee is the battalion’s main effort by driving hell-bent for leather for a highway bridge on the Saale. While the Soviets will drop the span before you get there, the area near the bridge offers several excellent crossing points. A threat to that area can’t be ignored. It’s hoped that your attack will draw the Soviets’ attention and reserves while the true main effort farther to the west is ignored. With the exception of where you’ll be going and that you’re to make as much noise as possible on your way there, you have a free hand as to how you go about accomplishing you mission.”

Shell stopped for a moment and took a step back, allowing Bannon to take a closer look at the map and considered the task he’d just been given. “Where do you anticipated we’ll be passing through the 2nd of the 94th?” was the first question he asked.

The major showed him a point about twenty kilometers south of the Saale. “What will I have in the way of fire support and close air support?” was his next question.

“There are several target areas that will be hit near the bridge by the Air Force at first light in order to support this ruse. In addition, the Team would be supported by the better part of an artillery battalion until one of the other battalions is in a position to began crossing the river. At that time Team Yankee will lose priority of fire.”

Bannon looked at the major, then the map, then back to the major, shaking his head as he did so. “You brought me all the way here to give me this nightmare?”

“What are friends for?” Major Shell quipped. “The colonel thought you’d be thrilled. After all, we’re giving you a chance to excel.”

At the moment Bannon’s reserve of humor was exhausted. He found nothing funny about what the Team was being asked to do. Once more, Team Yankee was going to be on its own, rolling into the unknown. Compared to what he and Team Yankee had been, and was being asked to do, he reasoned the Light Brigade had it easy. They’d only been asked to do the impossible once. Team Yankee was having to do it over and over again. “If you want to give me something, give me four tanks, a dozen trained infantry replacements, fuel, ammunition, and a four-day rest in the rear. Do you know what kind of shape the Team is in?”

Major Shell sensed Bannon’s change in mood. When he spoke, Bannon was able to tell he was now being deadly serious “Sean, I’m sure you saw the burned-out tracks along the battalion’s route of advance on your way here. We’re all in bad shape, with no prospect of getting any stronger any time soon. Our war reserves in Europe have been used up. It will be another month before the Guard and Reserve units get over here. If we wait for them, the war will be over. We either do it now with what we have, or we lose. It’s that simple.”

Bannon took to looking down at his boots as he considered what Major Shell had said before sighing. “I know, I know. Major Jordan went over the same thing with me before I came here. It’s just that since the war broke out, the Team has been getting the smelly end of the stick every time we turn around. Everyone, including me, is getting tired of putting his nuts out on the chopping block whenever a new mission comes up. So far we have been lucky, damned lucky. That luck isn’t going to last, though. One of these times the Russians are going to come down fast and cut us to pieces. Why can’t someone else get a chance to excel?”

“Sean, whether or not you know it, your Team has one hell of a reputation. When the Old Man was given this mission by brigade, Colonel Brunn specifically designated Team Yankee as the force to conduct the supporting attack. Everyone agreed that your Team was the one that could pull it off if anyone could. You’re it. You can moan and groan all you want, but in the end, you’ve got your orders.”

The rest of the meeting was conducted in a curt, businesslike manner. Shell provided additional details, answered Bannon’s questions, and asked if there were anything he needed that he could provide. Bannon decided to end the meeting on a lighter note, pointing out to Major Shell that in the future he could save the saddle soap and come up with easier missions. When he was finished in the TOC, Bannon sought out the battalion commander and talked with him for a few minutes about the condition of the Team and its new mission. There was no point going over arguments he’d already put forth with Shell. The decision was made, and he wasn’t going to get it changed no matter what he said or did. All Bannon could do now was give the commander a “Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full” and drive on. There was much to be done and not much time.

* * *

Before he returned to the Team, Bannon stopped by the assembly area the Team would occupy before attacking. He found the scout platoon already in position. The platoon leader, Sergeant First Class Flores, and Bannon discussed the mission and his role. He assigned Flores the task of selecting positions for the rest of the Team in the assembly area and instructed him to provide guides when it arrived. With that taken care of, he started back for Langen and Team Yankee.

The Team never made it to the assembly area. The 2nd of the 94th, in one last push, succeeded in smashing their way through the Soviet’s last defensive belt before destroying a half-hearted counterattack by an understrength Soviet tank battalion. This set in motion a change in mission, issued to Bannon over radio while the Team was still en route to its assembly area. Those orders required it to move immediately to a passage point where they were to be met by the Scout Platoon, which Major Shell had sent ahead, and an officer belonging to the 2nd of the 94th who would be on hand to affect and expedite Team Yankee’s passage through his unit and a marked lane through a Soviet minefield that had been breached earlier. Once through the minefield, Team Yankee would be on its own.

Lieutenant Weiss’ 1st Platoon was the first through the minefield. After giving his platoon the order to deploy into a wedge, he took to surveying the terrain to his front with the aid of his night vision goggles. Upon seeing no sign of the enemy, he glanced over to his right and watched as the Scout Platoon, which had been following his platoon through the minefield, begin to deploy. Like his platoon, it also was forming a wedge. The Mech Platoon was next, followed by Alpha 66. Before turning to his front, he watched as 66 pulled into a position between his platoon and the scouts, waiting to see if his Team Commander signaled him to slow down or change the direction in which his platoon was moving. Only when he was satisfied that all was in order did Murray Weiss leaned back in the cupola and allowed himself a brief moment to relax before focusing his entire attention back to the front and what lay ahead.

Unlike his platoon, the balance of the Team, after spending a relatively peaceful afternoon near Langen, had been on the run ever since the Team commander had returned with its new mission. Pre-combat checks, preparation for the night move, boresighting the tanks, receiving the Team order, and issuing the platoon order had taken up the balance of the afternoon. Immediately after darkness had fallen, the Team moved out for its forward assembly area where it was to wait for the order to pass through the 2nd of the 94th.

Weiss was pleased with the Team’s mission and the orders Bannon had issued. In order to create the illusion that it was more than a single company sized element, Bannon had divided the Team into two parts. The XO, with the 2nd and 3rd Platoons, would move along a separate route about one kilometer west of the rest of the Team. Bannon, with the 1st Platoon, the Scout Platoon, and the Mech Platoon took a more direct and obvious route toward a highway bridge on the Saale. The order to bypass all resistance and go flat out regardless of the cost pleased both Weiss and Garger. The two lieutenants were tired of being held in check and having to wait for someone else to get their shit together. Although the Team commander tried to dampen their enthusiasm, explaining that moving fast in the face of the enemy was receipt for disaster, the lieutenants were thrilled that they finally were going to have a chance to do some no-holds-barred tanking.

The crack of a tank cannon and the blurted contact report from 3rd Platoon jarred Weiss back to the realities of war. The element with the XO had made contact. The Team commander had been right, Weiss told himself as he straightened up in the cupola and began to scan the horizon with greater care.

* * *

No one saw where it had come from. One minute there was nothing. The next minute, there it was. It was as if the BTR-60PB had popped up out of the ground less than two hundred meters in front of Alpha 32. Without slowing his pace, and with a single round that went right through the BTR, Blackfoot destroyed it.

The engagement was over before it even registered on Garger his platoon was in contact. He automatically ordered the platoon to go from a wedge to an echelon formation angled back and to the left. This was done without confusion and without breaking stride. After a quick contact report to the XO, Garger turned back to his front and peered into the darkness. Neither he nor any of his tank commanders were able to detect any further signs of the enemy. As best Garger could tell, the burning BTR, now well to the rear of his platoon had been alone, leaving him to wonder if it was part of a forward security screen. If that was the case, then the Russians knew they were coming.

A tank belonging to the 2nd Platoon, to 3rd Platoon’s right, fired next, causing Garger to whip around to see what it was firing at. Following the tracers from the 2nd Platoon’s rounds, he saw several forms moving away from the Team. A brilliant flash and shower of sparks, followed by an eruption of flames lit up the night. One Soviet tank had been hit and destroyed. A second Russian tank, clearly illuminated by the flames from the one that had been hit, could be seen fleeing north. It did not make it, however. Another tank in 2nd Platoon dispatched it within seconds of the first.

“TANK, TWELVE O’CLOCK, MOVING NORTH!” At first, Garger thought that his gunner was looking at the same tank that he was looking at. Then he realized that the gun tube was still pointed to the left. Dropped down to his sight, he saw the tank his gunner had found. For a moment he hesitated. Bravo Company, 1st of the 4th, was somewhere off to their left. The last thing he wanted to do was fire on a friendly tank.

Garger studied the target in his thermal sight for a moment. He could make out the turret and the tracks. It was definitely moving north. But did it belong to Bravo Company, or was it Russian? Then he noticed that the rear of the tank was dark. The exhaust from an M-l tank is vented out the rear, creating a tremendous heat signature. If the tank was an M-l, its rear would have been bright green. The tank was Russian. Without further delay, Garger issued his fire command, cutting short the flight of another Soviet tank.

When a quick scan of the area to the left and right of the tank they had destroyed showed no sign of any other threats, Garger stood upright in the cupola. As harrowing as the previous day’s engagements had been, the suddenness of these encounters and the unpredictable randomness with which the enemy seemed to be popping up all over was proving to be down right nerve-wracking. “Give me a stand up fight in the open any day of the week,” he muttered to himself.

“What was that, LT?” his gunner called out to him over the intercom.

When Garger realized his CVC push-to-talk was keyed in the intercom lock position, he told his gunner he was just thinking out loud before unkeying his CVC.

Having grown use to the strange ways of officers, the gunner thought nothing of it as he went back to searching for new targets.

* * *

The young Ukrainian engineer lieutenant was not pleased with his orders or with having a KGB captain at his side watching his every move. The KGB captain and his people were supposed to be at the bridge to gather up stragglers and control movement. The young lieutenant was smart enough, however, to realize that the squat, stone-faced captain also had the task of ensuring that the people defending the bridge and preparing it for destruction followed orders. Why else did the little shite follow his every move and question every order he gave?

At the moment the officer of engineers had nothing much to do but watch elements of the 15th Guards Tank Division as it withdrew across the bridge. Though no expert on tank tactics, the lack of anything resembling order with which the units were crossing left him with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. A tank unit was followed by a maintenance detachment, which in turn was followed by an artillery unit with a field hospital mixed in. To add to the confusion, the KGB captain would halt units at random and demand to see written orders giving them permission to withdraw to the north side of the river. Most of the units did not have these, having received orders over the radio. The KGB captain knew this, but persisted in stopping units anyway.

The thing that bothered the engineer lieutenant the most was the manner in which the KGB dealt with stragglers. When individuals were spotting crossing without their unit, they were taken over to the side of the road and questioned. At first the KGB captain was called in to consider each case. After awhile, however, he tired of this and allowed a young and enthusiastic KGB lieutenant to deal with the enlisted stragglers. The captain only wanted to be called if there was a need to deal with an officer who could justify his need to retreat north of the river.

Justice, KGB style, was quick. The engineer, at the insistence of the KGB captain, watched each series of executions. Once a straggler was determined to be a deserter, he was put into a small wooden shed at the south end of the bridge. When the shed was full, the convicted deserters were lined up next to the road in full view of the troops moving across the bridge. The KGB lieutenant would read a statement outlining the crimes committed against the State and Party before giving the order to fire. The first time he watched, the engineer lieutenant became violently ill. As he bent over to throw up, the KGB captain slapped him on the back and told him he had nothing to worry about. “Officers who follow their orders need not concern themselves with me or my men. It’s the miscreants I am here to deal with, the scum who value their own miserable hides above the needs of the Motherland.”

The engineer was no fool. He understood the captain’s statement was a promise, not a threat. He also knew that if he dropped the bridge without first receiving permission, the next time the KGB captain slapped his back, there would be a knife in his hand.

* * *

The sudden spat of engagements stopped as rapidly as they had begun. The Team was halfway to the river and making good time. Bannon reasoned that the Soviets they’d encountered thus far were strays, individual tanks and vehicles shaken loose from their parent units who were not interested in offering resistance. Still, after reporting these encounters and his assessment of the situation to Major Shell, Bannon redoubled his vigilance. Things had a nasty habit of changing very rapidly. Half a dozen tanks and a couple of well-placed antitank guided missile launchers in ambush could raise hell with the Team. Expecting to make contact with just such delaying forces at any minute, he put out a net call, instructing his platoon leaders to stay alert and look sharp.

The nearer the Team came to the river, the more unbearable the anticipation of just such an event became. Like Garger, Bannon was beginning to believe an outright shoot-out with the Russians in the open, even an enemy who outnumbered the Team, was preferable to rolling around in the dark waiting to be hit. Despite his best effort to keep from doing so, every time the Team approached a point he had marked on his map he thought was an ideal position from which a Russian delaying force could engage the Team, Bannon held his breath. And each time the Team’s lead elements bypassed a point he had identified as an ideal location for an ambush without being challenged, he would let out the breath he had been holding and relax the grip he had on the rim of his cupola. This lessening of tension never lasted very long. Without fail, just as he was managing to calm down some, the next critical point would be reached, causing him to once more tense up in anticipation. Before long he came to the conclusion if they didn’t reach the river soon or make contact with the Russians, he’d have a nervous breakdown. It really didn’t matter to him which came first. Anything, he told himself, had to be better than dealing with the stress and strain of the unknown.

In an effort to take his mind off his growing fears, Bannon checked his map. The next critical point they would hit was a small town. He would have preferred to bypass it. Going through it at high speed was not only dangerous, picking their way through the narrow, twisting streets of a German village would slow the Team’s momentum. Still, rushing by it without at least checking it out could be even more dangerous. An entire Russian tank company could be hiding in it, just waiting for the Team to bypass it before coming out behind them and whacking them a good one up the butt. Just to be sure, he ordered the scouts platoon to make a quick sweep through it since part of the Team’s mission was to be noticed, and running through a town shooting up any headquarters or rear echelon units that were in it was a good way to get noticed.

At the same time, he was ordering the Scouts to go in, he instructed the 1st Platoon and the Mech Platoon to go around the town to the west. If the scouts did run into light resistance, they were to bull through. If the Soviets were present in strength and the scouts got in trouble, they were to back out and follow the rest of the Team.

As ordered, the 1st Platoon veered off to the left just as the scouts were forming up in single file on the road as they prepared to hit the town at a dead run. The lead scout track had no sooner entered the town when the sound of machinegun fire and flashes of light reflected off the buildings of the village lit up the night. A hasty contact report from Sergeant Flores informed Bannon they’d run into a Soviet recon unit in the town square and was taking it under fire as they rolled through. Bannon reminded him that he was not to become decisively engaged, that he was to get out of there as soon as possible to rejoin the Team. With the din of battle clearly audible over the radio as he responded, Flores gave Bannon a curt “ROGER, OUT” before continuing to fight his way through the town.

Though concerned that the scouts might not be able to extract themselves, Bannon was able to take some comfort in the fact that they had finally run into the Soviet recon element. No doubt whoever was in command of it would get a report back to his parent unit that he was in contact with the Americans. In doing so, he would help accomplish part of the Team’s mission.

* * *

The sound of firing just south of the river startled both the engineer lieutenant and the KGB captain. As one, they looked in the direction of firing, then at each other. For the first time that night, the lieutenant noted a look of concern and uncertainty on the captain’s face. Together they began to make their way to the southern end of the bridge in search of the commanding officer of the motorized rifle company who was responsible for its defense.

The firing could also be heard by the soldiers who attempting to cross the bridge. Not wanting to be caught on the wrong side of the river when it was blowup by the engineers, they began to push and shove their way forward. The impatience of the drivers gave way to anger when they felt the people in front were not moving quickly enough. Truck drivers began to blow their horns and nudge the vehicles to their front in an effort to move things along. This did nothing but add to the confusion and push the mass of troops and drivers on the bridge ever closer to panic. What little order there had been before firing had erupted in the village disappeared.

* * *

With the Team now but a few scant kilometers of the bridge, Bannon decided it was time to start making a lot of noise in an effort to give the appearance that they were going to attempt a crossing. He ordered the Team FIST to fire prearranged artillery concentrations on both the north and south side of the bridge. Since the bridge was gone, or would be as soon as the Soviets waiting to drop it saw Team Yankee coming, he figured artillery fire wouldn’t hurt anything. It would, however, appear to the Russians that they were firing a preparatory fire as a prelude to an assault crossing. The longer and more convincing his deception was, the easier it would be for those units that were part of the Division’s main effort.

* * *

With the first impact of artillery, the KGB captain dropped all pretense of being calm and unconcerned. The idea of facing American combat troops terrified him. He and his men knew what would happen to them if they were captured. Yet the KGB captain also knew he and his men could not leave the bridge, not without orders. To do so would be considered desertion. After dealing with deserters all night, he had little doubt what would be waiting for him if he left without orders. His only hope was to secure permission to leave from his superiors.

To this end, both the engineer lieutenant and the KGB captain tried to make it over to the southern side of the bridge where the captain responsible for the security of the bridge had his headquarters. They were, however, fighting the tide, as everyone on the south side was trying to make it over the bridge and to safety before it was blown up. Vehicular traffic had come to a complete standstill. Vehicles hit by artillery, crashed into each other, or abandoned by their drivers were blocking the exit on the north side and the entrance on the south, making it difficult even for foot traffic to pass.

As they pushed their way against the flow of fleeing troops, both the engineer officer and KGB captain noticed their own men had joined the rout. At first the lieutenant tried to stop his, shouting to them or trying to grab them as they went by him. Few paid any attention as they continued to push their way ahead, giving him as wide a berth as the panicked stream of human allowed. The KGB captain opted for a different approach. Without a second thought, he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at his men. When one of them kept going, he fired several times, missing the KGB private but hitting two other soldiers who happened to be in the line of fire. This, however, did nothing to stem the tide. The other KGB men who witnessed the incident simply did their best to melt into the crowd as they pushed and shoved their way north.

Once on the south side of the river, the lieutenant and the KGB captain found the company commander charged with defending the bridge yelling into a radio mike. When he saw them, he turned to the engineer. “The Americans are only a few kilometers away,” he shouted. “They will be there any minute. You must blow up the bridge.”

When the KGB captain heard this, he asked the infantry officer if he’d received orders to do so. The commander replied that he couldn’t receive any orders because his radio was being jammed. The KGB captain responded that they couldn’t drop the bridge until they received permission.

Again the commander told the KGB captain that the radio was being jammed and that he could not contact anyone before repeating his demand that the bridge had to be dropped.

The engineer officer joined in, siding with the infantry officer. “The bridge must be destroyed at once,” he insisted. “If you don’t give the order, I will.”

Flummoxed, the KGB captain simply stood there, staring at the engineer officer. Taking the initiative in such an important matter went against everything he had been taught. He had been trained from childhood to obey orders. Now, when he needed to make a decision that he alone had to make, he found himself unable to. There was no superior to decide for him. There was no one who could share the blame with if something went wrong. It was only him.

Just as the engineer officer and the commander began to yell at the KGB captain at the same time, imploring that he give them permission to drop the bridge, an American 155mm artillery shell ended their debate.

* * *

As Alpha 11 crested a small rise, Weiss caught sight of the Saale. In the clear night air, the light from the half-moon reflected from its smooth surface. They had made it. In a few more minutes, their role in the attack to the Saale would be at an end.

Bring his tank to a full stop for the first time since passing through 2nd of the 94th, Weiss focused his full attention on the far river bank, searching for any telltale sign of the enemy Captain Bannon expect would be deployed there. All appeared to be calm save for friendly artillery landing the main road leading to the bridge off to his left. Turning his attention in that direction, he watched as a volley hit right in the middle of a cluster of vehicles attempting to reach the bridge the Team had been heading for. That there were still Soviets on the south side of the river came as no surprise to Weiss. What did was the sudden realization that they were attempting to cross a bridge Captain Bannon told him and the other platoon leaders would be long gone before they got there.

Finding this to be too good to believe, Weiss slew Alpha 11’s turret around until the main gun was pointed at the bridge, then dropped down to his sight extension in order to take a closer look. It was still there, whole and complete. It suddenly occurred to him that they had a chance to seize the bridge intact.

* * *

“ALPHA 66, THIS IS ALPHA 11. THE BRIDGE IS STILL UP AND I’M GOING FOR IT!”

Ignoring Weiss’ use of vehicle bumper numbers over the radio instead of proper radio call signs was forgotten in the heat of the moment. Like him, Bannon found the news that the Team had not only caught some Russians on the wrong side of the river, but had the chance to seize a bridge intact was more than stunning. Suddenly the need to make a decision that could have a monumental impact on the course of the entire campaign, one he expected he and he alone could make, had been dumped in his lap. Did he let Weiss try for the bridge and risk having it blown up in their face or even worse, with some of his tanks on it? Or did he simply stop on the south bank and let the Russians blow it up? Whatever he decided, it had to be now. The 1st Platoon was well on its way and would, in a few minutes, decide the issue for him.

The Team had been ordered to divert the Soviets’ attention from the battalion’s main effort. Capturing a bridge intact and establishing a bridgehead here would certainly do that. With that thought in mind, without bothering to inform battalion, he ordered 1st Platoon to go for the bridge. The scouts, coming up fast after clearing the town, were ordered to follow 1st Platoon across. The Mech Platoon was instructed to drop one squad on the south side to clear any charges on the bridge and send the rest of the Platoon across on foot, stopping along the way to clear any and all charges or cut any wires they happened upon. Bannon next ordered Uleski to get up to the bridge as soon as possible and send the 2nd Platoon across to join 1st Platoon and the scouts, then take charge of the south side of the bridge with the 3rd Platoon and the Mech squad there. He concluded his rapid string of orders by instructing Weiss to have his tanks hold their fire until they were on top of the Russians. The way he figured, if his description of the confusion he was witnessing was as bad as he was reporting, the Russians responsible for dropping the bridge might not notice the Team was about to capture it until it was too late.

With nothing more to do, as far as issuing orders, Bannon called out to Kelp. “Kick it in the ass driver and get down there.” He needed to be there, with his Team, whatever did happen at the bridge.

* * *

Alpha 11 closed to within point-blank range before Weiss finally gave his gunner the order to fire. Falling in behind 11, the other tanks in his platoon followed, blazing away with machineguns at the fleeing Russians before them. With their sudden appearance, all semblance of order disappeared as Alpha 11 pushed onto the bridge.

Going was slow as vehicles of every description that could not be bypassed were pushed aside or simply crushed, igniting fires that spread as spilt fuel from destroyed or disabled Russian vehicles lit up the night, adding a new dimension of horror to an already terrifying ordeal for Russians soldiers still on the bridge. Those who found themselves trapped and unable to reach the safety of the far side of the bridge ahead of the rampaging tanks behind them tried to surrender. Few succeeded. Even if Murray Weiss had wished to take prisoners, tanks in the attack have neither the ability nor the means to collect, disarm, and keep an eye on them. This is particularly true of tanks advancing with a singular, bloody minded purpose.

The men belonging to the Mech Platoon weren’t in much of a mood to take any prisoners either. As soon as Sergeant Polgar’s track reached the south side of the bridge, he stopped and dismounted. The next track in line did likewise, dropping its ramp and disgorging its infantry squad. As the troops came piling out, Polgar yelled to the squad leader to find and cut every wires they came across. Never having done anything like this before, they began to rip away at every wire they found. In the heat of the moment, one infantryman tried to cut an electric power line with his bayonet, nearly electrocuting himself. Despite this, sporadic small-arms fire from die-hard Russians, and working with nothing but the flickering glow of fires, the infantry managed to keep the bridge from being blown.

Once Uleski had closed up on the south side, the Team went about the task of securing the bridge in a more methodical manner, dealing with whatever resistance remained, and rounding up those Russians who’d had enough, wanted to surrender, and could be accommodated. To provide early warning, Bannon sent the Scout Platoon out as far as he dared to establish a combat outpost line, spreading as much panic and chaos among the fleeing Soviet rear area personnel as they could as they went. The 1st Platoon was deployed to the left of the main road on the north side of the river in a quarter arc extending back to the river. The 2nd Platoon took up positions to the right, also in an arc from the road to the river. One Mech squad was left at the bridge’s north entrance, one at the south, and a third sent forward midway between where the scouts were and the bridge to set up a road block. Uleski, still with the 3rd Platoon, remained south side of the river, spreading it in a shallow semicircle to cover an approach from that direction.

When Bannon reported the seizure of the bridge to battalion, neither Colonel Hall nor Major Shell would believe him. They kept asking him to make sure that he was not confusing the Saale River bridge with a smaller bridge that spanned a stream farther to the south. When he finally convinced them that the Team had in fact seized the main highway bridge, they gave him a wait-out while they conferred on what to do. After a couple of minutes, the battalion commander came back on the battalion net and ordered two companies to reinforce Team Yankee at the bridge. The S-3 would continue to drive to the river with the balance of the battalion and conduct a crossing farther to the west as planned while he contacted brigade to recommend they shift the main effort and passage of the 25th Armored Division to the bridge Team Yankee was holding.

* * *

As dawn began to break, Team Yankee found itself momentarily alone and out on a limb again. But there was no sign of fear or apprehension as Bannon went about checking on the platoons under the pale blush of predawn light as they prepared for an enemy attack they expected, but would never receive. Unknown to them, far beyond the outpost line established by the scouts, men were making decisions and issuing orders that would start the final, and potentially, most deadly phase of the war.

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