by Harold Coyle
The chill and early morning mist were refreshing after being in the cramped PC for hours. It reminded him, however, more of an April or early May morning back in Pennsylvania than August-the German weather in August was more like a New England spring.
The chill cleared his mind and it began to turn to matters at hand. Yesterday had been hot and sunny, and with as much moisture as there was in the air, they were bound to have a heavy fog throughout most of the morning. That meant moving a listening post down into the valley to the Team's front, even though the cavalry was still deployed forward. This was the Mech Platoon's job and although they would probably do it automatically as soon as they saw the fog rising, Bannon intended to remind them when he got there. The old saying, "The one time you forget to remind someone of something is the one time he forgets and it is the one time it really needed to be done," kept buzzing through his head.
Bannon's eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. He could now make out images of other nearby vehicles like the headquarters PC he had just exited pulled into the tree line. One track, an Improved Tow Vehicle or ITV, attached to the Team from the mech battalion to which Team Yankee was attached, sat forward at the edge of the tree line. Its camouflage net was off and the hammerheadlike launcher and sight was erect, peering down into the valley below. This track was one of the Team's OPs, or observation posts, using its thermal sight to watch the Team's sector of responsibility through the dark and now through the gathering fog.
Bannon walked over to the ITV to make sure the crew was awake. He stumbled over roots and branches that reached up and grabbed his ankles while low branches swatted him in the face. He stopped for a moment, pushed the offending branches out of the way and began to go forward again, remembering this time to pick up his feet to clear the stumps and using his arm to clear the branches. As he proceeded, Bannon decided that rather than fight the underbrush and roots on his way over to 3rd Platoon, he would skirt the tree line.
This was not a good practice, but as it was dark and hostilities had not been declared yet, he decided to do it, one more time.
When he reached the ITV, the launcher's hammerheadlike turret slowly moved to the right, indicating that the crew was awake and on the job. Knowing that the crew would have the troop door combat-locked, Bannon took out his buck knife and rapped on the door three times. As he waited for a response, the shuffle of the crewman on duty could be heard as he climbed back over gear and other crewmen to open the door. Struggling with the door handle, the crewman rotated the lever and let the door swing out. Bannon was greeted by a dark figure hanging halfway out the door and a slurred, "Yeah, what ya want?"
"It's Captain Bannon. Anything going on down in the valley?"
Straightening up slightly, the ITV crewman realized whom he was talking to. "Oh, sorry, sir, I didn't know it was you, sir. No, we ain't seen nothin' all night 'cept some jeeps and a deuce 'n a half going up to the cavalry. Been quiet. We expectin' something?"
"No, at least not that I've heard. The cavalry should give us some warning but just in case, I need you to stay on your toes. You checked your batteries lately?"
"Yes, sir, 'bout an hour ago we cranked her up and ran it for twenty minutes."
"OK. Keep awake and alert. Let the XO over there know if something comes along." After a perfunctory "yes, sir," the crewman closed his door and locked it as Bannon turned away and walked out to the edge of the tree line. It bothered him that he didn't know the crewman's name. Bannon had only seen that ITV crewman for the first time three days ago after the Team had pulled into its positions. That's the trouble with attachments. You never know whom you're going to get and you never get a chance to know them. Except for the fact that he was the CO and the Team headquarters track was parked nearby, the ITV crewmen didn't know much about him either. And yet, very shortly, they might have to take orders from him in combat. Bannon hoped that the ITV crewmen trusted his ability to command in battle with the same blind faith that he trusted their ability to kill Russian tanks with their ITV.
As he trudged over to the 3rd Platoon, he reviewed the Team's dispositions and mission.
The Team had gone over it often enough using map exercises, terrain walks, battle simulations and field training exercises, or FTXs, on similar ground. But Bannon was still not totally satisfied that they were in the best possible positions to meet all eventualities. Team Yankee was deployed on the forward slope of a large hill overlooking a river valley. The forest where the Team was located came halfway down the slope until it reached a point where it dropped all the way down onto the floor of the valley. That point was the Team's left flank and it was where 2nd Platoon was positioned.
From there the platoon could fire across the face of the slope, into the valley or across the valley, toward the high ground opposite them.
In the center was the Team's headquarters section, consisting of Bannon's tank, the XO's tank and two ITVs from the mech battalion's antitank company. From there they had a good view of the valley, a small village situated in the valley to the right front, a road, and a separate small valley that ran along the Team's right flank. This constituted the limit of the Team's battle position.
It was on the right that the Team had the greatest concentration of power, the 3rd Platoon and the Mech Platoon. The Mech Platoon was equipped with M113 armored personnel carriers and Dragon antitank guided missiles. This Platoon had been scheduled to receive Bradley fighting vehicles, but that kept getting put off since procurement of those powerful fighting vehicles had slowed down. The Mech Platoon was split into two elements. The dismounted element, led by the platoon leader, consisted of most of the infantrymen, two Dragons and three M60 machine guns. This element held a walled farm in the small valley on the right. The mounted element, led by the platoon sergeant, consisted of the Platoon's PCs, their crews and two more Dragons. They were above the same farm on the slope in the tree line. From their positions, the Mech Platoon could block the small valley and keep anyone from exiting the village if and when the other people got in there.
The 3rd Platoon was located a little further behind and higher up on the slope from the Mech Platoon. The 3rd Platoon could fire into the main valley, the small valley to the right, the village, or across the valley at the opposite heights. This platoon would also cover the withdrawal of the Mech Platoon if and when that became necessary.
Bannon was not comfortable with the idea of defending on a forward slope. Should a withdrawal under fire be necessary, all the Team's vehicles would have to go uphill, at times exposed to observation and fire from the enemy on the other side of the valley. In addition, the only positions from which most of the Team would be able to fire were immediately inside the tree line. This position was so obvious it hurt. Bannon could visualize some Soviet artillery commander plotting likely targets and coming across their hill during his terrain analysis. Glee would light up on the Russian's face as he told his trusted subordinate,
"There, there they will defend, in this tree line. Make sure we target that area with at least five, no six, battalions of artillery, comrade." Bannon had been over it all before and if they came out of this deployment without going to war he resolved that he would go over it again.
But for now, he, and Team Yankee, were obliged to fight on the ground where they sat.
As Bannon approached the 3rd Platoon's position he heard a slight rustling followed by the two low voices. He had reached the 3rd Platoon's OPLP. "Halt, who goes there?" came the challenge in a voice that was a little too loud and sounded surprised. Bannon had no doubt caught the soldiers manning the OP half-asleep and had startled them. The voice that had issued the challenge sounded like Private Lenord from the 32 tank. The sentry repeated his challenge, "Who goes there?" It was Lenord. "Captain Bannon."
"Oh, okay. You can come on in then."
While this homey invitation was a refreshing change of pace from the less-than-cheerful thoughts Bannon had been pondering, it was definitely not the way to do business while on
guard. As he approached, he could hear a second soldier telling Lenord that he had screwed up. When Bannon was no more than arm's distance from them, the two men quietly stood up to face their commanding officer. As they were just inside the tree line, none of them could see the other's face. But Bannon was reasonably sure there was a pained expression on Lenord's face. Not knowing which of the two forms facing him was Lenord, Bannon directed his comments to both. "Is that the proper way to challenge someone?" "No, sir, it's not, sir."
"How are you supposed to challenge a stranger when he approaches your position, Lenord?"
Without hesitation, and as if he were reciting from a book, Lenord went through the correct challenge and password procedures. With a plaintive voice and a few expletives, Bannon asked Lenord why he hadn't used the correct procedures. "Because you said you were the CO and I recognized your voice, sir." The answer was honest but wrong. Bannon explained that everyone gets the full treatment. Lenord didn't seem to understand the logic in this but promised that he wouldn't forget the next time. As Bannon walked away toward the 32 tank he could hear the second soldier tell Lenord, "See, I told you so," as they settled down into their positions again.
Upon reaching the 32 tank, Bannon started climbing up on the right front fender but stopped halfway up when he heard the cocking of a .45 and a low, firm "Halt." The voice belonged to SSgt Joelle Blackfoot, a full-blooded Cherokee Indian and tank commander of 32. Bannon had no doubt that there was a .45 cocked, loaded, and aimed at him. "Who goes there?"
"Captain Bannon."
"Advance and be recognized."
Bannon finished climbing up and moved slowly to the edge of the turret, now able to make out the figure in the cupola with an outstretched arm holding a .45. In a lower voice just audible to him, Blackfoot gave the challenge, "Wrinkle."
"Bait," was Bannon's reply.
Satisfied with the answer, Blackfoot raised his pistol and slowly let the hammer down. "When's the war going to start, Captain?"
Pulling himself up onto the top of the turret so that he was lying across the length of it with his head near Blackfoot's, Bannon spoke to Blackfoot about Lenord's failure to challenge properly and how things were going with the crew's preparations for combat. Being the thorough NCO that he was, Blackfoot was not happy with the crew drill between him and his gunner. Blackfoot explained that his gunner was slow to pick up targets that he had acquired and on which he had laid the main gun. He wanted some time on a road or someplace where they could move the tank and practice their crew drill. Bannon explained that for security reasons all vehicular movement had to be kept down to a minimum. Blackfoot, like everyone else in the Team, would just have to do the best he could from a stationary position. Blackfoot replied that he knew that but he saw no harm in asking. After getting the weather prediction for the day and his best guess as to when the fog would lift, Bannon climbed down and proceeded to Lieutenant Garger's tank, the next in line.
As he approached the 31 tank, Bannon began going over the "counseling" he would use with Garger this morning. Garger wasn't a naturally bad lieutenant. In fact, he was no different from any other second lieutenant, including himself, that Bannon had known. It took time, training, and a lot of patience to develop a good second lieutenant tank platoon leader.
For only having been in the country for three weeks, Garger wasn't doing half bad. But while half bad was all right on a training exercise, it wouldn't hack it in combat. The time and opportunity to teach the lieutenant-everything he needed to know just wasn't there anymore. The Team was about to go into combat and Bannon had no faith in Garger's ability to perform.
The platoon sergeant, SFC Gary Pierson, a veteran of Vietnam and an outstanding trooper, had been doing his best to train the lieutenant when Bannon wasn't. Pierson was also trying to cover for Garger so that the platoon didn't look bad. But Pierson couldn't do it all. Either the lieutenant had to perform or he had to go. At this late stage of the game, Bannon wasn't about to put lives in the hands of a lieutenant who had, so far, screwed up most of the tasks given him. He intended to talk to the battalion commander about the matter later that day. But first, there was the business at hand.
Climbing up onto the right front fender of the 31 tank, he was stopped as he had been on Blackfoot's tank with a "Halt, who goes there?" Only instead of using a .45 to keep the unknown intruder at bay, the figure in the cupola tried to crank his M2 machine gun down and in Bannon's direction. As the firing mechanism is part of the gun's elevation handle and is easily activated, a brief moment of panic swept over Bannon. He 'considered whether it were better to jump, scream, or hope for the best. Fortunately, inept handling of the machine gun's controls frustrated the figure in the cupola and he decided to go to his .45 as an alternative. As the figure fumbled for his pistol, Bannon identified himself and finished climbing on board.
Abandoning all hopes of covering the intruder with a weapon, the figure simply finished the challenge and password procedures in a dejected and apprehensive voice. Lieutenant Garger was running true to form this morning.
Bannon crawled onto the turret and propped himself up on his elbows so that he was less than a foot from Garger. "Well, what shall we talk about this morning, Lieutenant Garger?"
Garger paused for a moment, not knowing if he was expected to answer or if the Team commander was simply going to lay into him. Hesitantly, he replied in a halfquestion, half-statement, "RTO procedures, sir?"
"No, no. Close, but a no-go. How about radio listening silence? You remember our discussion on that subject yesterday morning?"
"Yes, sir."
"THEN WHY IN THE HELL DID YOU BREAK RADIO LISTENING SILENCE AGAIN TODAY? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID OR JUST SOFT IN THE HEAD?" While waiting for his answer, Bannon did his best to pull himself back and calm down. He had a tendency to become excited and abusive. He had told himself time and again that it wouldn't do to get this cranked up; he had to be calm and logical. But habits are hard to break, especially so early in the morning. There would, no doubt, be plenty more reasons for getting excited later today.
Falteringly, Garger replied, "No, sir. I just wanted to make sure the radios worked since we changed frequencies and all."
With his composure regained, Bannon continued, "Did your radio work yesterday before I chewed your ass out for breaking radio listening silence?" "Yes, sir."
"And did your radio work the day before yesterday just before I chewed your ass out for breaking radio listening silence?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why did you do it again? I mean, by now even you should be able to figure out that, a, your radio works every time you use it and b, every time you use it I am going to come down and jump in your shit. Do you understand what I'm telling you, I mean, do you really understand?"
"Yes, sir, I do, it's just that, well, I…"
"One more time, I swear, one more time…"
Without finishing or waiting for a response, Bannon slid himself back off the turret and climbed down the same way he had come up. To stay any longer would not do him or his nervous system any good. If the point hadn't been made by now, it never would be.
Bannon hadn't walked ten meters from the 31 tank when Pierson's low, firm voice startled him. "This is starting to be a regular routine, isn't it, Captain Bannon? I'm going to start setting my watch by you." Bannon stopped, turned toward Pierson's figure, and leaned against a tree for support. He still hadn't calmed down from his discussion with Garger and Pierson's sudden appearance had scared the hell out of him. As he collected his wits, he thought to himself, "The sun isn't even up and it is building up to be a real peachy day." Looking at the dark figure approaching him, he asked, "Are you looking to give me a heart attack or is this some type of leadership reaction course?"
"No, sir, I just wanted to come over and save our favorite lieutenant before the wolves got him. But from the roar, I figured I was too late so I decided to wait for you here."
"You know, I could charge you with attempted murder.
"
"You wouldn't do that, Captain. Then, who would you find to whip this collection of derelicts and criminals you call a tank platoon into shape?" "You're right, Sergeant Pierson. No sane man would take the job. I guess I'll have to keep you. But I'm not too sure about your lieutenant. After stand-to and breakfast I'm going to talk to the Old Man about pulling Garger out. If I give you Williams as a loader do you have a gunner who can take over the 31 tank and a loader that can move into a gunner's seat?" "Sergeant Pauly could handle the tank and I have a couple of loaders who are ready to gun. But do you want to start screwing around with crews at this late stage? I mean, the lieutenant may not have all his stuff together yet but given a little more time, I'm sure he'll catch on. You know how it was your first time out."
"Yes, Sergeant Pierson, I know what it was like. I really wasn't much better than Garger. But this is different. When I screwed up as a young platoon leader the worst I got was an ass chewing from the CO, a lot of smirks from the men in the platoon, and a sick feeling in my stomach. If the balloon goes up in the next couple of days and Garger blows it, he not only stands a damn good chance of losing his own behind and his crew's, but a failure on his part could cost me the whole platoon and more. I feel sorry for the kid and I wish I could do more for him. But I have a whole company to look out for and I'm not going to take any chances that I don't have to."
Bannon and Pierson stood for a minute and stared at each other, neither of them able to see the other's facial expression. Both knew that what the other said was right, to a degree.
Pierson hated to admit defeat, the defeat of not being able to train his new lieutenant.
Bannon felt the same. But they also knew that there simply was no time left, that they had to deal with bigger issues than pride. Garger might do well once the shooting started. There was no way to tell. Bannon didn't want to take the chance. His mind was set. If he could swing it, Garger would go. The two men exchanged a few more remarks, mostly about the condition of the platoon's vehicles, plans to improve the positions, and the training that needed to be done that day. Then they parted, Bannon proceeding around the hill to the Mech Platoon while Pierson started rousing his platoon for stand-to. The war, or at least the preparations for war, went on.
