The Fall of America: Call Sign Copperhead (Book 6)

by W. R. Benton

  Soon the aircraft zoomed down the runway, nosed up into the air, and then began a combat assault take off. The aircraft was nosed up as high as it could safely go and the angle was steep. The wheels and flaps made noises as they both moved. Once the aircraft was above small arms fire, they flew in a circle waiting for the second and third birds. A few minutes later, they joined up and moved east, flying side by side.

  About ten minutes after take off the Jump Master, who wore a headset, stood. Holding his hands out palms up and flat, he raised them to about chest high, and as he moved them up and down, he shouted, “Stand up!”

  The troops on both sides of the aircraft stood.

  He then bent his right finger into a crook, held it over his head and moved it up and down. To be heard over the aircraft noises he yelled, “Hook up!”

  All hooked up.

  “Sound off for equipment check!”

  “Number one, okay! Number two, okay!” and on down the row it went, until it passed over to the other side, “Number twenty-six, okay!”

  The Jump Master nodded to the Load Master, who began to lower the rear ramp. The men would jump two at a time or one on each side of the aircraft. Now they held their static lines as they moved toward the open ramp. The jump light remained red. They were low, and the tree tops were clearly seen as the aircraft zoomed over them.

  Georgiy found his mask uncomfortable and hot. He was first on the right side, so he watched the light. The Load Master held up one finger to show they had one minute left.

  Exactly one minute later, the green light came on and the Jump Master yelled, “Go, go, go!”

  He stepped off into space, bent slightly at the waist, legs together, and he was looking at the toes on his protective boots when the chute opened. He quickly released both equipment bags hanging at his sides and watched them drop below him. He then looked up and saw he had a good chute. Three swings and he was on the ground. The minute his feet touched he did a PLF, rolled, and then pulled the releases to his parachute canopy. When he stood, he noticed his folks were scattered all over a large field. Some were still landing. He watched one jumper’s parachute fail to open and he struck the ground, hard.

  Then the three large birds lined up for another approach, and Ilik knew the pallets were coming out next. The aircraft flew just feet off the ground, large parachutes deployed behind each aircraft, and at the same time they released their loads. The pallets rolled from the rear of the big planes and struck the ground hard, with a cloud of dust behind them as they scooted forward. When they came to a stop, the soldiers ran to unload them. A little further down the field the T-90 tanks were resting on pallets, as well. Their crews ran for the armor.

  Less then 30 minutes after they'd jumped, the people were splitting up. Georgiy kept a squad with each tank and sent the others out in four man teams to look for partisans. The Master Sergeant, Danovich, went out with a five man squad, counting him. As a result, Ilik stayed with the two tanks and later, when they split up, he went with one of them.

  Moving was rough wearing the chemical gear, and the men in the tanks must have been really hot, buttoned up like they were. Intelligence had reports of some Chinese Type 59-I tanks in the area, and all wondered how the two would do in combat against each other. Ilik prayed they'd not meet one on this mission, because it would turn bloody for both sides.

  What he disliked immensely about the tanks was they were so loud. Of course, there might be some confusion by the partisans if they thought the tanks were theirs. Throughout the morning they saw absolutely nothing; then at around 1400 they shut the tank’s engines off, camouflaged the big beast and dug in. They'd wait for their prey to come to them. There was a high traffic trail in front of them, so they knew it was just a matter of time. It was also raining lightly, so they'd checked the air and found the chemical gone. The masks were removed, but the suits stayed on. If they entered a low area later, after daylight, the gas might still be there.

  The T-90s were fitted with thermal gear and he ordered the crew to man it at all times at night. It was then he learned the tanks had air conditioning too, so they would be comfortable enough.

  His experienced troops helped the new men and women settle in for the night. They more or less ringed the tank, but not too close in case it came under attack. After darkness, Ilik had the crew climb in their tank and button up, meaning he wanted all hatches closed and locked shut. If they spotted movement on their IR screen they were to contact him by radio.

  All passed well until around midnight, when the radioman woke him and whispered, “Partisans moving down the trail. I had everyone put on NVGs, and thought you'd want me to wake you.”

  “Did the tank confirm that?”

  “Yes sir, they reported seeing them on their IR screen. I spotted a company sized unit moving toward us with my NVGs. Do we let them pass or use the NON-50s? It is still sprinkling rain.”

  “Wait for the main group to get in the kill zone, then set them off. Better yet, set yours off when I explode mine.”

  “Yes, sir.” Yakovic said.

  They moved to Yakovic's foxhole and Georgiy laid in the grass beside him. Just when the main force was in front of his mine, he set squeezed the clacker. A loud explosion, followed instantly by another. and earsplitting screams filled the air. The survivors tried to rush them, which is what most armies of the world are trained to do, but the NSV 12.7mm heavy machine-gun on the tank opened up. The big gun stitched the whole column of partisans up and down numerous times. The Russians actually saw body parts flying through the air.

  “Everyone stay awake; we have gone to a 100% watch, and now we wait for dawn. Do not get out of your foxholes, but be ready to fight in case some of those partisans are not dead yet. At dawn we will check them.” Suddenly, an American jumped to his feet and moved toward the trees. Ilik heard a gun shot, followed a split second later by an explosion, then a horrible scream. The big machine-gun on the tank fired again and it hit everything but the runner. A few seconds later he was safely in the trees.

  “What is going on?” Ilik yelled.

  “Beshov fired his gun and the barrel exploded. I need a medic here, and now!” a voice that sounded like Ioanna replied.

  Ira, the medic, yelled, “I am coming.”

  Long minutes passed and then the medic said, “We need to report this to Headquarters because the breech of his weapon exploded, not the barrel. When I saw this type of injury before, it was due to the powder in the bullet being replaced with C-4. Beshov is not dead, but he soon will be if we do not get a helicopter here. His face is an absolute bloody mess. He is on morphine.”

  Georgiy turned to his radioman, who shared a foxhole with him and said, “Pass that on to base.”

  A few minutes later he said, “Helicopter on the way, and they suspect the bullet was picked up years ago after a battle with partisans. Somehow it made it back into our supply system and was issued. We no longer collect unspent bullets or grenades to use later. It seems when we first came here, they would sabotage bullets and change the timers on grenades to zero.”

  “Nasty tricks.” someone said from the darkness.

  Fifteen minutes later the Russians heard the whop-whop-whop of the helicopter’s blades and Georgiy made contact with the crew. “Cobra One to unknown rescue aircraft.”

  “Cobra One, this is Angel One, over.”

  “Uh, what is your ETA?”

  “Three minutes. I will remain in the air and lower a litter for your injured troop. Strap him in well, we will raise him, and then return to base. Understand he has facial injuries, correct?”

  “Yes, along with some severe injuries to his throat and eyes.”

  “Copy. Use your IR strobe light, Cobra.”

  Ilik pulled the strobe from his vest, slipped the IR cover over the face of the bulb and then pushed the on/off button. It immediately began to flash, but it was not seen by the naked eye.

  “It is starting to rain harder, so keep the strobe light on and tell me when
I am right over your position.”

  “Overhead —now!”

  The aircraft came to a stop and a whirling sound was heard. Ilik looked up at the noise and saw the litter coming down. The noise was from the winch.

  Private Beshov was placed on the metal litter and strapped in tightly. Ilik said, “All clear down here, and you can raise our man now.”

  At that point, two tracers crossed in front of the helicopter and the aircraft commander said in a calm voice, “Taking fire, I say again, I am taking ground fire from the east and west sides of the injured man.”

  The machine-guns on both sides of the aircraft began throwing bullets in the general direction of the ground fire. By now, Beshov was at the door and seconds later, he was inside.

  “We have the injured man and are returning to base. Good hunting, Angel One, over.”

  “Thank you, Angel One, and stay safe. Cobra One, out.”

  “Okay folks, from the shots fired at the helicopter we know the partisans are in the area, so stay alert. It will be daylight in a few hours but in the meantime, they may come for us.”

  The commander’s hatch opened and the man stuck his head out and said, “IR is picking up a group of maybe 50 partisans moving this way. They are right in front of us, maybe 200 meters. Want me to fire a couple of cannon rounds to disperse them?”

  “Sure, this might be interesting.”

  The hatch closed, Ilik heard it lock, and a minute later the radio said, “Heavy One to Cobra One, two shots will be fired close together. The first shot is going—now.”

  A loud boom was heard and, looking in the direction of the partisans, he saw the round land and explode but due to trees and brush, he saw no casualties. A minute later, the second shot was fired, and again he saw light from the explosion. The machine-gun opened up next and fired a few rounds.

  “Cobra, they have dispersed in all directions. I am also showing only two faint IR glows in the group you ambushed, one near the front of the group and the other in the middle, over. The heat from the group died after they were shot.”

  “Copy, Cobra One, out.”

  All was quiet the remainder of the night, and at daylight they were out checking the dead from the ambush. One man near the front of the ambush was still alive with bullets through his chest, so he was killed on the spot. Then all heard two shots and a loud explosion.

  Ilik Georgiy had five people down as he ran to the spot of the explosion.

  “Senyavich shot a wounded American in the back twice and when he turned him over, a grenade spoon flew into the air.”

  The medic was looking his wounded over. Senyavich had some small fragments in his legs, but could walk. The others seemed to have minor injuries. It was then the tank started it's loud motor to charge their batteries and systems.

  “Place the wounded on the rear of the tank, along with their gear and weapons. Yakovic, call in the dead partisans, and we are moving to check the others the tank fired at in a few minutes. Tell base we will update the body count after we move to the new location. Get your packs and gear on, people, we are leaving in five minutes.”

  They found five more bodies where the tank's cannon had struck and death had to be instantaneous, or so Ilik thought. Huge portions of their bodies were missing, and it was obvious they'd died quickly.

  “Yakovic?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Call in our body count.”

  Chapter 16

  I was tired. It had been three days since the gas attack and while most of the poison had dissipated, we still wore the awkward suits and kept our masks nearby. The first two nights were rough when we attempted to sleep in the masks. The rains were now carrying the nerve agent away, and the water would dilute it or completely break it down over time. The initial attack had killed over a hundred of us in the four counties that were sprayed. It taught us to always have our chemical gear nearby and ready.

  We'd also had over 60 killed not far from my camp when a joint team of armor and troops caught some partisans going down a well used trail. They died while forming up for an attack against the tank. It was my opinion that Russian tanks had heat-detection capability. I suspected they were able to use it in the air as well, because the T-90 tanks were known to be armed with rockets and missiles externally, too.

  Captain Hensley had been buried in an unmarked grave and as far as I was concerned, his death had been too fast, but I was glad he was gone and he'd died in pain. I hated the man for how he'd made all officers look bad. Our jobs as leaders was to do just that, lead or get the hell out of the way.

  Parsons, who was back at work but was supposed to be on bed rest, stuck her head in the door and said, “Intelligence reports two Russian T-90 tanks and about a company of men out beating the bushes for us. They're suspected of being the same group that killed our folks last night. The tanks have separated, and they want to know how you'll handle them.”

  “Have Intel contact Headquarters and see if they want to send a Chinese attack helicopter or a Chinese tank against one of them. Let them know we'll take one of the tanks out and the men with it, as well.”

  “Will do.”

  It was then I realized if I could hit Fort Leonard Wood with Chinese armor and aircraft, I'd have a better chance of getting to the two Chinese prisoners. I'd give that some thought after this mission. Due to the poison gas dropped on us, the date for the original attack on the fort had been placed on hold. I'd heard nothing else of the mission since.

  Minutes later, Major Eller stuck his head in the door and said, “One of the tanks and about twenty-five men are less that three miles from here. Headquarters said the Chinese will have one of their tanks tackle the other brute. They'll also get photos of the battle, so I think those will be interesting to see.”

  “Yep; listen, I want you to remain in charge here while I lead the group after the nearest tank. It's not that I think you can't do the job, because I know you can; it's just that I like to go on missions at times to keep my senses finely tuned. I want to satisfy some questions I have about Russian tanks, too.”

  “I figure you're the boss and can go when you wish.”

  I laughed and called out, “Sergeant Parsons, see my squad and two others are alerted we're going into the field in 30 minutes. You will not be going. Have them remove their Chemical gear, but carry it with them.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  I began checking my weapons as Eller said, “I'll be in the communications tent if you need me at any time.”

  I nodded, but didn't say anything, because my mind was on the mission against a tank.

  One good thing about tracking a tank, anyone can do the job. Since the rains, the treads dug in deep into the mud and a blind person could have followed them. I was very interested in how the Chinese

  HJ-12 anti-tank guided missile would do up against the big tank. It was the latest in Chinese technology and would automatically track the target without any additional operator input. Just aim, fire and forget, or so they claimed. The missile supposedly attacked the top of the tank in a downward dive in the last minute. By hitting the top of the turret, that's where armor is usually the thinnest and weakest. The Chinese claim 1,100mm of steel armor could be penetrated in the direct mode, which is a lot. I had two of them with me and would field test both, if I could, and I was sure the weapon system had never been used in combat before.

  It was raining slightly and everyone was wearing a poncho. I had a woman on point and a woman bringing up the rear. I'd gone even further on this mission and sent Ledford forward to scout the area. It was then I had a strange feeling about the tank tracks. At almost the same time, I heard an explosion off in the distance in front of us, and suspected the Russians had planted mines behind the tank as it moved, just in case we walked in the big vehicles tracks. Most troops did just that, walk in the tracks, because tanks would detonate any mines it ran over without any damage to the tank. The thought had never entered my mind until the explosion.

  Three of
us, along with Dolly, moved toward Davis and as we ran, I said, “Stay off the tank tracks, I suspect they're mined.”

  We spotted Davis laying in the middle of the tracks, and her left leg was missing at the knee. She was trying to stop the bleeding when we arrived.

  Sergeant Light, my medic for this mission, immediately went to work. A tourniquet was applied above the damaged leg, morphine was given and she checked her over well. Finally, she wrote “Morphine 0900 Tuesday” on Davis' forehead in black water resistant ink.

  Davis tried to talk but she made little sense, so I told her to rest and be quiet. I called two big men from the group and said, “Return to base with her and once there, stay. I'm not as worried about the infantry we'll find as I am the T-90. I need to see if this missile works as designed. Place her on a litter and get out of here. She's losing blood.”

  They were gone in seconds and then Ledford arrived.

  “Colonel, I saw the T-90 tank and about two dozen dog-faces protecting the thing. They'd just pulled up and started fixing lunch. If we rush, we can attack the tank as they eat.”

  We double timed through the woods and I felt sorry for the people carrying the missiles, because they were heavy. Twenty minutes later we were within a hundred yards of the Russians and I could see them eating and had to admit, they were quiet. I saw my HJ-12 anti-tank guided missile was up and ready in no time. I then nodded to the man aiming and he pulled the trigger.

  Just then the tank commander stood in his open hatch and was saying something. I had my binoculars out and was watching the tank. Sure enough, it flew higher than the tank and at the last second it nosed down and struck the T-90 hard not a foot away from the commander. I watched the explosion rip the commander to shreds and his head, arms and hands flew from his body. The tank exploded into a huge ball of reddish black oily smoke and the flames moved for the sky. The noise was loud. Russian troops were hauling ass away from the big brute, knowing it was prime to blow.