He arrived at his quarters, found it as he'd left it and then cooked a quick meal of beef steak and a fried potatoes. He had a glass of water to wash his meal down. He finished eating, closed his eyes, and in seconds fell asleep. He woke when his head nodded and fell to his chest.
Walking to his phone, he called his office and said, “Sergeant Dias, alert my section, including you and all others, that we are moving into the field in the morning, two hours before dawn. Draw a full load of ammo, grenades and rations for seven days. I want a backup radio and a backup medic along for the trip.”
“What is our assembly time?”
“O400 hundred hours. Now, see it is done and enjoy your evening.”
“You as well, sir. Goodnight.”
“Night, Sergeant.”
He then showered, and went to bed. He was thinking about his life before the fall of America when he drifted off to sleep.
Morning looked cloudy, from what little he could see in the darkness, and turning on a television in his room, he listened to the weather as he dressed in his battle dress uniform. Pulling a small tube, he pulled the covers off both ends and began applying his camouflage face paint. He then placed his brown cowboy hat on his head and walked out the door. Over the next few days, someone would die.
When John neared the formation of this troops, he heard Lieutenant Joyce Jones grunt, “Teeennn-hhhuuuttt.” All the troops snapped to attention.
“All ready and accounted for, sir. We lost two members yesterday during the attack. Private Barnes was killed by a grenade and Sergeant Armitage lost his left arm and eye to rifle fire. Armitage will recover and then be reassigned to other duties besides combat.” she said as she saluted the Colonel.
“At my command! Teeen-huuut!” John then bellowed, “At ease.”
Twelve people relaxed as the Colonel then said, “We are going into the bush today to look for Russians. We will be out for at least a week, or until our losses grow too heavy. All of you have bush time, so this is nothing new to you. As an experienced squad, I want nothing but professionalism once we leave this base. We all know just a split second of goofing off in the woods can get you killed. Keep alert and you'll come home alive. Any questions?”
Silence.
John then said, “Dismissed, but remain in the area to form into fighting groups. We'll be leaving in just a few minutes.”
“Sir, did you want Major Woo along too?” Lieutenant Jones asked.
She was an attractive woman, mid twenties, short, maybe five feet and two inches tall, 100 pounds, with blonde hair and big deep blue eyes. Her teeth were white and even, and she had a beautiful smile. All of her curves and bumps were in the right places, but John actually thought she was a very intelligent woman. He was attracted to her mind and not so much her body. Even a blind man could see she was stunningly beautiful, but once past her looks, her logic was sound and she was an excellent and fast mind in combat. John deeply respected her, professionally.
“No, Woo is to mind the store while we play infantry for a few days.”
Jones nodded.
“Gene Green, post! You're the radio operator, so I want you closer to me than my shadow. Jason Smith, stay in the middle of the group, so you can respond as a medic in either direction quickly. I want Leroy Carrier on Point and Vernon Lee on drag. Let's move, people.”
The two men he'd called out for point and drag were both near six feet tall, thin due to poor food, and wore their brown hair clipped short. Lee sported a short brown beard, while Carrier wore a long shaggy mustache. Both men were good in the field and with Lee being an ex-country boy, he could track and kill silently. How did John know this? He'd seen the man kill just that way and more than once. Lee carried a set of deadly throwing knives and loved to use a garrote. While only 18 or so, both men were experienced and professional in their duties.
John then said, “Forward at a slow walk and once off the base, keep your eyes open for booby traps, both ours and theirs.” He moved in between Msgt. Mary Dias and Ssgt. Tom Prings and they moved toward the main gate.
The closer they got to the main gate, the more dead bodies and destruction they saw. Many of the dead had been disfigured by the bullets and bombs that had struck their bodies. Piles of dead Russians lay in a small river of blood. Their eyes open, but unseeing. John shivered as he watched a fly go into a dead Russian’s nose and come out his open mouth. He spotted movement and then saw a fly walking over the still open eyes of a dead man. Once again he quivered.
The morning passed uneventfully, except a few booby traps had been marked. Carrier was good on point and probably John's best. They stopped in a grove of walnut and hickory trees for a 30 minute lunch and break from walking. Sixty pound packs grew heavier the more tired the carrier got. John was paying for being out of shape and his back was already hurting him early in the mission.
Whispering, John said, “We break for 30, so we can eat a bit. No talking.”
They started opening the stolen Russian Green Frogs or the issued Chinese rations and everyone got a mixture of both. John didn't care for the Chinese food because it was spicy, almost too hot to eat in some cases, especially the pickled turnip or the spicy rice. At times he open both rations and mixed them together. The Russians had a nice thick stew that John usually poured over the rice from the Chinese rations. By mixing the two, both foods were improved.
“Cobra One, this is Copperhead four, over.”
“This is Cobra One, go ahead. Over.”
“Radio check.”
“Uh, read you five by five, over.”
“Copy. We have unconfirmed reports of large bodies of Russian troops in your area. I suggest stealth. One partisan unit, 'Possum One, confirms there are T-90 tanks and BMP-3 fighting vehicles about five miles north of your current position. The General wants you to confirm them and then move back as he sends in a squadron of H-6k Chinese bombers.”
“Copy, we'll eat and then find the tank farm, if possible.”
“Colonel, someone is nearing our position. I got a quick look and they appeared to be Russians.” Carrier whispered as he neared John.
“Cobra One, over and out.” He said and then turned to his troops and said, “Everyone hide, and we'll ambush them if possible.” He wasn't super worried about his troops being seen, because from head to toe they wore camouflage, including face paint and flat olive green Nomex® flight gloves.
They had just hunted cover when the Russian point man neared. He glanced at where the squad had been eating and then walked closer. Someone had left some green paper from their Green Frog ration and it had caught the man's eyes. He bent over, picked up the paper and then walked back to his group, who were stopped maybe a 100 feet from him.
John saw the man showing the green paper to a Captain and then some words in Russian were exchanged, but the Captain laughed and sent the man back up front. Obviously the Leader thought another Russian unit had stopped there to eat. He did send the man in a different direction though, just to be safe. As the men moved north, John released a loud sigh.
Five minutes later, the Russians were out of sight.
Crawling from the brush, John said, “I thought we were going to have to fight our way out of here. I'm glad that officer thought the paper from the ration was left by a Russian soldier. I think we need to move more slowly toward the tank farm.”
Chapter 5
Senior Sergeant Vova was a little confused until he realized he and his men had been dropped miles off course and nowhere near where they should have been. Supposedly he'd be within a mile of the stockyards and he smelled nothing. He knew stockyards smelled, because he grew up on a farm. His nose picked up nothing and from triangulating his position on a map he knew they were at least 20 miles off, and that meant many of the men dropped in waves would not reach the base in time to place pressure on all sides as the attack took place.
“Okay, we are a little off course and not where we are supposed to be, so we will correct our course and rush to the b
ase. I doubt we will reach it before the attack, but we will do our best. Makarovich, give me the handset.”
Private Olga Makarovich handed it to him and then smiled, enjoying the burning touch of his hand on hers. She wanted Sergeant Vova and would have him, but not out here. She'd get him drunk back at the base and then see if he was the lover she thought he was. Right now, I need to be totally professional, so when I go to see him in his quarters, he will not know I have plans to take him to bed.
“Hotel, Hotel, this is Monsoon. Do you read me, Hotel? Over.”
“I hear you fine, Monsoon, what is your location? Over.”
“Hotel, the aircraft dropped us at least 20 miles off the planned drop zone. Over.”
“Uh, understand you were dropped away from your drop zone (DZ). Hotel One will not be pleased because at least half of the drops were off target. What is your status? Over.”
“No wounded, killed or hurt. We are at 100% and continuing our mission. Over.”
“Your mission is over, and it did not go victorious for the Mother Land. The attack on the base gave us 40% casualties, with 23% of them dead. Wait one, while I get guidance from Hotel One on where to send you or if you are to return to base. Over.”
Vova waited patiently; the battle was over now, and he was not rushed for time. A couple of minutes later the radio operator at the base said, “Monsoon One, this is Hotel. Hotel One states he wants you to remain in the field and pester the hell out of the Americans. A classified message will be sent within an hour. Additionally, I expect you to be returned to base by the time the General arrives from Moscow and the court martials start over the missed drop zones and drinking on duty. There was no way the aircraft should have been that far off target and the Colonel will have some heads before this drop is ever close to being forgotten. Anything else? Over.”
“No, I will remain in place until we get the classified message. Then we will do as ordered. Monsoon One, over and out.”
Looking at Makarovich, Vova said, “Prepare for a classified message from the base.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
Less than ten minutes later, she handed him a decoded handwritten message.
“This message is classified Top Secret. Your unit, Monsoon One, will proceed to the enemy base and harass them each time someone leaves the base on patrol. Your sniper will kill any and all senior officers above the rank of Major. You will then defend your sniper at all times. If pressure gets to be too much, pull back and wait a day or so. Your whole mission is to harass the enemy and keep them off guard until another attack is drawn up. Your needed supplies will be dropped to you by parachute. You will be returned on the first day of next month, and two days after your return, you will appear in a series of Court Martials where you will be a state witness. This message is classified Top Secret.”
“Well, every one, we will not be returning to base for at least a week. We have our marching orders and they will be followed. Rostislavovich, as my sniper, you will soon be put to work, but only killing senior American officers. The rest of us will be ambushing American patrols and killing as many as we can. On the 1st of the new month, we will be picked up and returned to base. Now, I want Ilyich on point and Pavovich on drag. Keep the pace slow but steady. We are not in a race with anyone. Mark any booby-traps.”
“Yes, Sergeant. When should I start?” Ilyich asked.
“Uh, right now, unless you are busy.” Vova said, his tone indicating he was getting frustrated.
“No, Sergeant, I am not—”
“Move to the front and get us moving! We need to cover some miles before dark, and I want you on a compass bearing of 310 degrees and remember the magnetic north here is 8 degrees. Now, move.” the Sergeant said and then thought, He's a good trooper, but a little slow at times. I need to try and instill some sense of mission here, or they may keep us out here forever. If I can motivate them to complete a successful mission or two, then headquarters might remove us and we can return to base. The problem is most are just out of secondary school and know little.
The next hour was passed without any booby-traps found and they moved at a fair but not really fast rate of speed. Then, Ilyich froze and called out, “I need the Sergeant here!”
If that boy has seen a snake or is messing around, I will kick his ass, Sergeant Vova thought as he moved forward. When beside the young man, he whispered, “What do you see?”
“See the mine about six feet from me? Straight ahead. It is a big one, and I am not sure what to do since it is at least four times bigger than most.”
“All mines are treated the same, unless they are command detonated. This one is one of the larger personnel mines. Now, Mili, move close to the mine, pull your knife and prepare to follow my orders.”
Private Mili Ilyich took three steps, screamed, was jerked off his feet, and his body was pulled into the air, where he struck a camouflaged 4 foot by 8 foot sheet of plywood. The plywood had a handmade nail placed every six inches in the surface and he struck it with his back first. Each nail was approximately 14 inches long with barbs on the end. His body was penetrated by eight of the nails and they were protruding from his chest, stomach and neck. Blood dripped from the board, to land in the lush green grass of the forest floor. He tried to speak, but the words would not form in his mind, as he ran his fingers over one of the nails in his chest.
“Get me a medic up here and fast!” Vova ordered.
“Nititovich, get to the point and now!” someone said, their voice filled with urgency.
When the medic neared, he took one look at Ilyich and said, “I can do nothing for this man. The barbs have torn and punctured most of his major organs, Sergeant.”
“I know that. Give him a double dose of morphine, because the shock will soon wear off and no man or woman should die in pain. Do it now.”
Pulling a syringe, the medic loaded morphine from a vial, and gave the victim a shot in his left arm. He then refilled his needle of death and gave him another, a fatal amount. Ilyich gave a great quiver as the medication entered his body and his eyes turned glassy, as the strong pain killer made it's way though his blood system. A couple of minutes later, his body jerked a couple of times, his breathing stopped, and with his eyes fixated, Milli Ilyich died.
“He was only 18, Sergeant.”
“Now he will never be 19. I warned all of you that the traps usually have traps around them, but I can see now that no one listened. The Americans are not a bunch of dumb asses running around looking like cowboys. Most of the men are prior service and they will kill you in any number of different ways. Never blindly approach a booby-trap without checking all along your intended path for other smaller or, like in this case, larger traps. They will kill you!”
“Should I have his body removed?” the medic asked.
“No, because the tree he is in could have any number of traps. Leave him, but report him as confirmed dead, unable to recover his body. He will not be the only one that never sees Mother Russia again. Now, Corporal Igorevich, you take point and watch where in the hell you step.”
The next four hours were uneventful and the Corporal found a few mines, which he marked, and continued on his way. It was about an hour from dark when the squad found a suitable place in some trees to spend the night. The area whey were traveling was lacking trees overall and was on the edge of the great plains. While teams could move over open ground it was difficult, and a man's stress level went up a great deal. There was little cover, except for gullies, old buffalo wallows, ditches, and dry stream beds. Once standing, you could turn around after a full day of walking and see where you spent the previous night.
“We will rest overnight (RON) here and continue in the morning.” He was tired and the death of Ilyich still bothered him.
As they stopped for the night, Vova thought, I like to have enough cover to move unseen but not so much cover it is a jungle. I can remember attending jungle survival training in Vietnam 60 years after the Americans had been there, and I hated th
e place. At night, everything imaginable, and some things one could not imagine, would come out to feed and mate. The floor of the jungle became almost a living thing, with all the insects, snakes, crocodiles, and other critters moving around. If nothing else, I learned to sleep in trees, and I hated the place. I had almost been snake bit a number of times and once had a huge crocodile attempting to pull me and my sleeping bag into the water. No, jungles I will avoid if at all possible.
The Radio Operator neared and said, “Headquarters just called and they want us to join a tank farm tomorrow and start hitting the partisans in this area. One squad per tank, and we are to work together as a team. All houses are to be attacked and destroyed by the tanks, while we shoot those running from the house for safety. We are to take no prisoners.”
“I will not murder those unable to fight back. So, if we are not to take prisoners, we will doctor those hurt and leave them unharmed. By God, I have to be able to sleep at night and murder would make that hard to do. I have been in this man's army longer than you have been alive, Olga, and I will be damned if I will start murdering now. That part of the order is illegal.”
Olga smiled, because she had him using her first name. She knew it was common for superiors to use first names of those they knew well. She had him half way in her bed already, only he didn't know it. If she could get him hot in some way, nature would take over from that point on, or so she thought.
“Tell them we will comply with the orders, and in reality, what we do or do not do is none of their business, not as long as we kill Americans. I have found murdering members of the partisans is not healthy for a Russian. Simply say Monsoon Two understands and will comply with the orders.”
Olga made the contact and passed on the Senior Sergeant’s words. Base then signed off and as she placed the handset in the cradle, she wondered if she could get him hot enough tonight in their fox hole to play a little. While she thought about sex a great deal, her real experience was limited to one time in a hayloft of an old barn, a couple of times in the back seat of a car, and once in a dark barracks with another woman when everyone was asleep or gone. That experience had been fun with the woman, but she didn't count it as much. She'd discovered she enjoyed sex with either gender, but preferred to be with a man. The love of a woman satisfied her immediate needs, while the love of a man filled her with a contentment that lasted for a few days.
The Fall of America | Book 9 | Operation Instant Fury Page 5
