by Andy Farman
To Rickham’s annoyance the female RAF corporal walked around the car to open the generals’ door first, it was left to one of the senators aides to scurry across from the second car to open it for his boss, not that he received any thanks.
Henry’s aide put away his cell phone.
“Transports just being cleared through at the guardroom sir.”
“Thanks Manuel…there’s an old friend I have to see first, it’ll only take a minute.”
Inside the hardened shelter Senator Rickham’s public face asserted itself upon his face as he entered the room where the British Prime Minister, German Chancellor and the foreign ministers of the Spanish, French, Dutch, Belgian, Danish, Swedish, Norwegian and Portuguese governments were gathered. The British PM looked towards the doorway and beamed, striding across the room; Rickham’s smile almost mirrored it as he stepped forward and reached out his hand.
“Henry Shaw!” The Prime Minister of Great Britain walked past the politician and pumped the generals’ hand. “Are you still hung over from that party in Madam Woo’s whorehouse?”
“How kind of you to remember Mr Prime Minister…and to announce it so publicly too.” Henry replied in an ironic tone but with a big grin, and then replied just as loudly. “The last time I saw you, you were in a swamp with your trousers around your ankles, and someone was using a cigarette butt to get the leeches off your ass.”
“You always had a steady hand General.”
Rickham’s smile was looking distinctly plastic when Henry made the introductions, and then made his apologies, as he had to hit the road and would arrange his own transport back stateside.
It had begun to snow again outside as he climbed into the Canadian army M113 for the journey to SACEURs new sanctum, General Allain was but one of a number of people he had to see over the next few days.
West of Wuitterlingen, Germany: 1530hrs
The point section had been moving steadily on for the first hour, crossing fields, scrubland and moving through copses of trees. Had it not been snowing then they would have changed their camouflage as they moved, stuffing handfuls of whatever was growing in the field they were entering, into elastic sown to their clothing and equipment, and changing it for whatever was prolific in the next. The snow and the Arctic Whites they were clad in made that unnecessary, so they concentrated on watching their arcs and waiting to be shot at.
The section commanders were busy all the time, trying to read the ground ahead as an enemy might see it. The sections moved with ‘One foot on the ground’ at all times, either a pair of riflemen or the gun group would be lying in cover and up in the aim, covering the rest as they advanced, whether anyone was shooting or not. As soon as someone else ducked into cover to take over the duty, they’d get up and double away to take up their positions until the next time it was their turn. The section commanders were also busy. L/Cpl Orden, the section commander of the lead section, was pointing out landmarks, and potential cover if they came under fire, it came across commentary like.
“Section, five hundred, one o’clock…bushy top tree…to be known as, bushy top tree…section, three hundred, ten o’clock…stone wall, right hand corner of wall to be known as, wall…see this stream bank on our right? If we come under fire in the next fifty metres we’ll take cover there.” Objects that would assist in indicating targets were adopted as they came into view, and discarded once they had been passed, and cover was pointed out as the section moved. Every other section commander was carrying out the same task for their own men, as well as trying to second-guess the enemy by trying to put themselves in the enemy’s shoes.
Taking cover when a single round passes you does not, in the eyes of the British Army, constitute as reacting to effective enemy fire. Rounds, plural, have to be coming in amongst you and your mates or, you start taking casualties, for it to count.
As the leading platoon approached a thick stand of conifers on a section of rolling heath land, a Guardsman spun around and fell on his face with a strangled cry. The crack of the high velocity round was followed a second later by the thump of the rifle that had fired it, and the men of 1 Section went to ground. 2 and 3 Sections, along with platoon headquarters were out of sight of the lead section when contact was made, but a second after the shot was fired L/Cpl Orden was on the air to CSM Probert.
“Hello One One this is One One Alpha…contact, wait out!”
Colin moved forward parallel with 2 and 3 Sections, impatient for a full contact report but having to allow the man time. He sent his own to the company commander, who in turn would send one to Lt Col Reed.
The theory behind the arrowhead formation is that the enemy ‘bumps’ the lead section, but cannot necessarily see the entire unit. With the battalion spread out and angled away on both flanks from the point of contact, it is theoretically able to manoeuvre in order to flank the enemy at that point.
A real live enemy is seldom as obliging as the ones provided for exercise purposes, and Nikoli was determined to bloody the battalions nose.
Colin had just got into a position where he could see his lead section when its section commander sent a full contact report.
“Hello One One this is One One Alpha, over.”
“One One send over.”
“One One Alpha, contact one minute ago, single round fired from copse at grid 4720, 7331, I have one Indian down…enemy not seen, over!”
“One One, roger…out.”
He didn’t give any orders, L/Cpl Orden knew what had to be done now, so he left him to it and passed on the report quickly and began a combat appreciation.
Less than two minutes had passed since the shot had been fired, and the casualty was lying in the open, unmoving. The British Army does not waste ammunition by shooting up all available cover, they had to locate the enemy first, and use the ammunition to win the fire fight. No further shots had been fired, which meant the firer had either bugged out or was waiting for someone else to show themselves. Under the circumstances they had no option but to offer him a target to shoot at, and one of the Guardsmen half rose from cover and then dropped out of sight again before crawling sideways, as his position was now compromised.
Colin kept the two remaining sections gun groups and a rifleman from each, which also carried M203 grenade launchers. Oz, who had the light mortar ready, had ten rounds each of smoke and HE laid out ready to use. In addition to their own ammunition, each member of the platoon carried four rounds for the mortar, one para illum, one smoke and two HE rounds. Colin sent the remainder of the platoon back twenty-five metres in readiness for a flanking move should it prove necessary, and they dropped off some of their mortar rounds as they passed Oz.
Lying behind a slight rise in the ground Colin watched a second Guardsman try to draw fire, but there was neither sound nor movement from the copse. Behind him the rest of the battalion had gone to ground, and if there was no reaction from the wood then they would have to assume the firer had left, so getting on the radio he ordered the section commander to send two men skirmishing forwards whilst the remainder covered them.
The lead section was two hundred metres away from the copse, and Nikoli watched the pair of riflemen come on, allowing them to get to with seventy-five metres before he tapped his machine gunner and a rifleman on the shoulders.
By agreement the paratrooper with the AKM fired first, aiming at the covering man’s face, which was all that was visible behind the SLR he was aiming at the copse. The young Guardsman’s head snapped viciously back, and the machine gunner fired a short five round burst at the moving man as he started to drop into cover. All five rounds scored, dropping the soldier.. The moment they fired, the Russian paratroopers all put their heads down and scrambled backwards on their bellies six feet to the shallow trenches they had hacked into the frozen earth. The Guards reply was almost instantaneous; the muzzle flashes had been seen against the dark background in the trees. Before Nikoli or his men had gained the trenches, 7.62mm rounds were chewing up the bank behind whi
ch they had fired, and cracking overhead, spilling snow from burdened boughs, gouging bark from the trees and amputating small branches. These rounds were no danger to Nikoli, they were protected by the bank from direct fire, but the grenades and mortar rounds were a different matter.
Oz had four HE rounds in the air before the first reach the ground, the mortar rounds and grenades straddled the area, one 51mm mortar round landing in the machine gunners trench.
An infantry section can take on up to three enemy riflemen, but they won’t handle a machine alone, not if there is support about.
Colin originally had a potential section assault to deal with, now it had developed into a platoon attack, and from what he could see of the ground it had the potential to become at least a company job, inasmuch as there was good concealment for at least an enemy platoon. The enemy in the copse had not revealed themselves all at once, so they weren’t beginners at this stuff. To the left of the copse was dead ground that ran to the rear of the trees, and to the right it was flat with little cover, until it sloped gradually upwards to meet dense scrub three hundred metres beyond.
CSM Probert thought about going left flanking, then dismissed it as too obvious, and the same went for the open ground on the right. True, he could drop smoke and dummy left whilst using the screen to go right, but he didn’t like the thick scrub behind it. He thought about it but alarm bells were ringing in his head.
“Stuff this, for a game of soldiers!” he muttered to himself and rolled onto his back, rapping the magazine on his rifle with his knuckles to get the attention of the men within earshot. Holding up three splayed fingers he then tapped them three times on his left bicep, then opened his hand crab-like and sat it on his head. He repeated the signal, except using two fingers instead of three, summonsing Oz and the section commanders behind him for a quick orders group.
“Okay, gee your guys up, we’re going through the front door…I don’t think these people are on their own, I think the rest are in depth, waiting on us going left or right flanking. Sarn’t Osgood…send a gun group further left to where they can shoot us right into the treeline without us blocking their fields of fire, but warn them to be ready for a reaction from the left once the smoke clears and they see we haven’t played their game…I want the other gun group on the right…same story, but they are to switch fire and hammer the thick scrub at the top of the slope five hundred metres from what will be their front, the moment we reach the trees. Sarn’t Osgood, collect more smoke and HE, because I want smoke masking our right from that scrub, I want it in the trees and in the dead ground on the left, then once we gain the treeline I want a couple of HE rounds dropped on the scrub on the right, where the guns are switching too, okay?” He looked from face to face before continuing. “Two Section left…Three right, leave a hole for One Section in the centre…L/Sgt Tilly, I’ll go as far as One Section as your left hand man, then I’ll join One Section and we’ll all skirmish up to the trees from there as a platoon, then fight-through as sections…important, there is to be no, I repeat no exit out the far side of the copse by any of our boys…understood?” He got nods all round. “I’m going to give the company commander a bell and let him know what we are doing, and to ask for the Mortar Platoon to set up ready to drop 81 mil’ on that thick scrub. They won’t do it just on a whim from me, but if I’m right then that is where their main strength is, and they will show themselves once the right hand gunners and Sarn’t Osgood rattle their cage…you’ve got five minutes to get them briefed and organised, so get yer skates on!” The three NCOs hurried away and Colin quickly briefed L/Cpl Orden by radio before switching to the company net.
“Hello One this is One One, long message over.”
“One, send over.”
“One One, estimate that there is now a gun group at location previously given. My sub unit is going frontal in figs five…I suspect that there are enemy in the scrub area to the right rear of our present contact, in expectation of a flanking move by ourselves. I would suggest consideration be given to hooking callsign One Three around to approach that scrub from its own right rear. Mortar fire mission follows…roger so far, over?”
“One roger, over.”
Colin paused for three seconds to allow any other station with a message for the company commander to interrupt, but there was silence so he continued.
“One One, should we encounter enemy in the suspect location my Sunray Minor will call upon the mortars for the following fire mission…grid 4721, 7329…range five hundred…bearing, four three, three zero magnetic, low ridge with scrub…HE…eliminate. My Sunray Minor will give the word if enemy become evident…over?”
The company commander repeated the fire mission details back to Colin before warning him that he was indeed sending 3 Platoon wide right before signing off. 3 Platoons Warriors were summoned from the rear to carry the troops part way, as it would take too long for the platoon to hoof it that distance and still catch any enemy on the wrong foot. Pat Reed was informed and two of the 81mm mortars were set up.
During this time L/Cpl Orden had been controlling his men’s rate of fire, as had the gun group commanders.
Inside the copse, Nikoli and his remaining man waited for the grenades and mortar to cease before shifting left at a low crawl. He didn’t bother to check for signs of life from the gunner, there was not much left of him, and the irreplaceable weapon was bent in the middle.
Their new position was a similar trench in the middle of the copse with a depression in the ground nearby that would offer some protection for them on their way out.
Colin tagged onto the end of L/Sgt Tilly’s section and took a quick look around. His platoon were set, and he could see 3 Platoons Warriors moving slowly forwards to pick up their ‘Indians’. They would wait until gunfire from the assault masked their engine noises and then put their foot down, pick up the platoon and then turn 90’, going wide before curving around so as not to alert the enemy.
The desultory fire of the past few minutes leapt forwards in tempo. Sgt Osgood shot off smoke rounds as fast as he could. There was little in the way of a breeze, so he couldn’t just drop it upwind and let it drift across the desired area. Once the screen was in place Colin pressed his ‘send’ switch.
“Go, go, go!” and 2 and 3 Sections went into the assault.
The choking smoke, rounds whipping through the copse and M203 grenades dropping amongst the trees announced to the pair of Russian paratroopers that the NATO troops were coming. Using his radio he called up the Sergeant who was his second in command.
“Kambra Two, this is One.”
“Go ahead One.”
“Which way are they going, left or right?”
“I can’t tell, they dropped smoke all over.”
“Even to your front?”
“That’s a roger.”
Nikoli knew that the rounds for the light mortar had to be carried by the men and that made their supply limited, until they received a replen. They were used sparingly, so what he was being told made no sense.
“Kambra Two, it was a stray round, yes?”
“Negative…there goes another…they are thickening it up!”
It told Nikoli that they hadn’t taken the bait, he released the radio handset and spat in frustration.
“Mud’a!”
The Paratrooper by his side glanced at him in surprise, before resuming his efforts to see through the smoke.
“Kambra Two, this is One…leave an MG team to cover us, and pull out now. No buts or argument Sergeant, they are wise to us…see you at the RV.”
After a moment or twos pause, Nikoli received a peeved reply.
“Roger…withdrawing.” With a jerk of his head he indicated to his companion it was time to go and they left the trench, scrambling across the snowy carpet.
Oz stopped dropping smoke in the copse when the platoon was a hundred metres from the wood; it would hinder the business of fighting through the objective once they got there. At twenty-five metres out the
copse was masking the men from the suspected danger points at the left and right rear, so he allowed the smoke screen to dissipate. As it became too dangerous for the gun groups to continue shooting the men in, the left hand group ceased fire and watched their front, whilst the right switched fire to the scrub to their own front.
Once clear of the copse Nikoli broke into a dead run, half afraid that high explosive rounds would be dropped behind the copse to stop such a move as this. However, the strip of trees was too narrow and therefore the danger to their own troops too great in mortaring this area.
He could tell that the Guards were in amongst the trees now by the shouting of the British NCOs, exercising control to ensure there were no blue on blues and no enemy was missed.
The flash of tracer caught the corner of his eye; it was red and therefore NATO. A GPMG gunner was walking bursts steadily across the low scrubby ridge where his Sergeant had left a gun group to cover himself and his surviving man from the copse. To his great anger his own gunner decided to take on the GPMG, and green soviet tracer arced back in reply, instead of staying quiet until they were needed.
The Russian PK was similar in virtually every manner to the GPMG, which is not surprising as all successful creations have their imitators. Having goaded a reaction from the enemy the Guards gunners put their heads down, and Oz initiated the fire mission.
Nikoli and his man had reached dead ground by the time 1 Platoon had satisfied themselves that the enemy had bugged out, and began to hurriedly dig in. An army generally knows the location of its own positions, and when one is overrun they will call in a fire mission as a matter of course, always providing they have the wherewithal to do it. Even so, the best time to retake a position is immediately after it has fallen, before the enemy can get organised. So the Guardsmen dug in, in preparation for a counter attack.
The mortars of 1CG and their mates in the 82nd had had a lot of practice of late, and their first rounds were 'on', and the next dozen plastered the low ridge.
