Team Yankee

by Harold Coyle

  Contacting the battalion S-3 Air, a young captain back at the battalion's main CP, Bannon ordered him to report the battalion's current status to brigade, its location, and the fact that it was halted. Additionally, brigade was to be informed that he had assumed command and would contact the brigade commander personally as soon as possible. With that, Bannon switched back to the Team radio net and contacted Uleski, informing him that he would be leaving the Team net. Until further notice, Uleski would command Team Yankee.

  Not wanting to sit out in the middle of the field by himself, Bannon ordered Kelp to follow 55.

  Dropping down to where the radios were, he flipped through the CEOI, found the radio frequency for the brigade's command net, switched the frequency, and reset the radio's preset frequencies.

  While the battalion net had been relatively quiet, brigade's was crowded with a never-ending stream of calls, orders, half-completed conversations, and requests for more information.

  Bannon entered the net just as the battalion S-3 Air was finishing the report that he had directed him to make. Not surprisingly, most of the information was wrong. Colonel Brunn, the brigade commander, came back and asked the S-3 Air to confirm the battalion's current location.

  Before he could respond, Bannon answered and gave the correct location and his assessment of the battalion's current status. He informed the brigade commander that the battalion was no longer capable of continuing the attack. Bannon ran down a list of the reasons why and waited for an answer. When he finished, there was a moment of silence on the brigade net while the grim news sank in. Then, without hesitation or a long-winded discussion, Colonel Brunn contacted the commander of the 1st of the 4th Armor and ordered him to pass through the mech battalion and continue the attack north as the brigade's lead element. Brunn came back to Bannon, ordering him to rally the battalion and to keep the brigade S-3 posted on its status. For the moment, Task Force 1 st of the 78th Infantry was out of the war.

  As Garger led his platoon through the area where C company and the Soviet tank company had been wiped out, he realized that he was seeing another aspect of war that he had so far missed: the aftermath. Up to this point, all his battles had been at long range. He had taken part in the run through the town of Arnsdorf with the CO during the defense of Hill 214, where they had been eyeball to eyeball with the Russians. But that action was fast, a blur of activity in a heated night action.

  This was different. The slow movement of the Team through the battle area offered him ample opportunities to view the debris of battle more closely. There were the smashed vehicles, tanks, and PCs. Some burned fiercely while others showed no apparent damage, almost as if their crews had simply stopped their vehicles. It was the dead and the dying that were most unsettling. Here a tank crewman hung halfway out of a burning tank, his body blackened and burning. Over there a group of dead infantrymen who had abandoned their PC, cut down by the advancing Soviet tanks. Everywhere the lightly wounded were moving about, sorting out those who could be helped and those who were beyond help. Garger didn't want to watch. He wanted to turn away. But that was not possible. The horror of the scene had a fascination that held his attention.

  The time span could not have been more than two minutes from when the firing in the valley to the west had stopped and the sound of advancing tanks coming from the east was detected. Polgar heard the squeak of the sprockets just as the forward security team he had sent out reported that there were tanks coming down the trail fast. Polgar had to remind them to report the type and number of tanks they were observing. Sheepishly, the NCO in charge of the security element reported three T-72s moving across an open area in the woods toward where Polgar had deployed the rest of the Platoon.

  Instead of defending at the tree line where the security element was located, he had decided to set up deep in the woods where his people would have the greatest advantages and the tanks would be the most vulnerable and helpless. The Dragons would be worthless in this fight. The antitank guided missile they fired needed to fly some distance before the warhead armed. There wasn't enough standoff distance here for that to happen. This fight was going to be strictly man against tank at very close range. For this, the Mech Platoon was ready.

  Polgar observed the tanks as they came. The tank commanders were up in the cupolas pushing their tanks forward for all they were worth. They did not seem to be concerned with security. The fact that the lead element had passed through these woods without incident apparently satisfied this group of Russian tankers that the trail was clear. Besides, they were hell-bent to join the lead element as fast as possible. In a twisted bit of humor, Polgar thought to himself as he watched the T-72s advance that all three would very soon be joining their comrades in the valley wherever good Communists go when they die.

  Polgar and his men were far more relaxed as they waited to spring this ambush than they had been on Hill 214. The big Soviet tanks could be defeated. The men and the leaders in the Mech Platoon knew this now. They hadn't been too sure the first day or that night on the hill. They were veterans now, however, and knew what they could do. To some it was almost a contest, a challenge of sorts. Infantrymen were always trying to prove to tankers that they could easily do in their archrivals on the battlefield. The detonation of the first antitank mine was their cue to do so again. As the platoon went into action, there was nothing for Polgar to do. Every man had been briefed on his role and went into action as planned. Machine gunners and riflemen cut down the tank commanders before they could respond or drop down inside the tanks. Other infantrymen with light antitank rocket launchers, called LAWs, began to fire. One LAW is not enough to kill a tank. Sometimes it would take up to twelve LAWS before the tank died. Because of this Polgar had organized four-man tank killer teams under an NCO. Each man had several LAWs. The NCO would designate the target tank and fire. Each of the men would then fire in turn against the same tank. In this way, the first two tanks were rapidly dispatched.

  The third tank, seeing the plight of the first two, began to back up. It didn't get far, however.

  Two infantrymen, on opposite sides of the trail, pulled a mine attached to a rope onto the trail under the third tank as it backed up. The detonation destroyed the engine but did not kill the crew. The crew began to spray the woods indiscriminately with machine-gun fire in an effort to kill some of their unseen assailants.

  A squad leader in charge of this area called for smoke. Several men threw grenades that erupted into billowing clouds of colored smoke. Once this smoke screen was thick enough to provide cover, the squad leader maneuvered his tank killer team into position behind the tank where he knew the turret would not be able to be turned on them. For several seconds the LAW gunners waited for the smoke to clear. Once they had a clear shot, the LAW gunners began to fire. First the NCO, then the next man. Then the third. At the range they were engaging from, no one was missing. The LAWS slammed into the crippled tank one after the other at a measured interval. As Polgar watched, he knew the third tank was doomed.

  So did the crew of the tank. Deciding that there was no point in dying for the Motherland just for the sake of dying, they surrendered. The tank gunner stuck his hand up out of the commander's hatch and waved a white rag. Both Polgar and the NCO in charge of the LAW gunners ordered a cease-fire. This was something new. They were finally going to meet the enemy. A defeated enemy.

  Once the firing stopped, the gunner slowly began to emerge. Looking around, he continued to climb out. When he saw the first American, he stopped and waved the white rag again, just to be sure. The gunner didn't move until the American signaled him to climb down. As he did so, the driver opened his hatch and climbed out and onto the ground.

  The Russians were terrified. They were searched at gunpoint, their pistols and anything else that could be used as a weapon were stripped from them. While this search was in progress, an NCO climbed up to check out the tank commander and the rest of the tank.

  When it was discovered that the tank commander was st
ill alive, two more infantrymen climbed up and gave the NCO a hand, lowering the wounded Russian down and away from the tank while the medic was called. The Russian gunner and driver, seeing this, relaxed. The horror stories their political officers had told them about Americans killing prisoners were lies. They were safe. They would live.

  As he worked on the wounded tank commander, the medic thought how ironic this was.

  Less than two minutes ago everyone in the platoon was trying to kill this man. Now he was doing his damnedest to save the Russian's life. War was definitely screwed up. The medic hoped that someday someone would explain it all to him. But not right now. There was a man's life to save.

  Bannon was in the process of gathering the commanders of Team Bravo and D company when Polgar reported the tanks. As soon as he heard about it, he ordered Uieski to take the Team's tanks up to the Mech Platoon's position. Once there he was to establish a defensive position blocking that trail with one tank platoon and the Mech Platoon and hold another tank platoon back as a reaction force.

  His meeting with the other commanders was interrupted by the arrival of Major Jordan. A D company PC making a sweep of the area found the major and the survivors of the command group in a ditch where they had taken cover when their tracks had been hit. Jordan was covered with mud and bloodstains but was physically all right. As soon as he saw the gathered commanders, he smiled, "Bannon, I never thought that I would be so happy to see those damned tanks of yours as I was when they came rolling down. It was great.

  "The Major talked fast and appeared hyper. That was not surprising. Given the spot he had just come from, it was to be expected.

  "I'm glad to see you, sir. For awhile we thought the whole command group was gone. Did Colonel Reynolds make it?"

  "He's been hit, hit bad. The medics have him now. His track and mine were hit in the first volley. That any of us survived is nothing short of a miracle. As it was, we had three dead and five wounded in the command group alone. How did the rest of the battalion do?"

  While the major sat, drinking water and regaining his composure, Bannon went over the current status of the battalion. C company had, for all practical purposes, ceased to exist.

  Two squads of infantry and their PCs as well as one ITV from C company had joined D company. There were a number of individual stragglers being policed up but many of them were wounded.

  As all the officers and senior NCOs had been hit or were unaccounted for, it would take awhile to come up with a total casualty count for that unit. D company had lost three PCs and one ITV. Their total casualties included five dead, thirteen wounded, and three missing. Team Bravo hadn't lost anything. Team Yankee had one tank damaged, the 33 tank, with two wounded. In addition to the line companies, the command group had lost all three of their PCs. Overall, the battalion had lost fifteen PCs, three ITVs, and one tank during the Soviet counterattack. Even if the three tanks Polgar's people had gotten were counted, the battalion had lost more than it had taken.

  The 1st of the 4th began to roll past the major and his gathered commanders on the road headed north. The men of that battalion viewed the devastation on both sides of the road in silence as they went by. When the command group of the 1 st of the 4th rolled by, the S-3's track broke out of the column and came down to where Bannon, Jordan, and the other commanders were gathered. Major Shell, the battalion S-3, asked for a quick update on what information Major Jordan had so far about activity to the front and flank. Jordan gave him what he had, which wasn't much. Major Shell looked around for a moment, wished him luck, then mounted his track and took off to catch up with the rest of his command group.

  Uleski's report that there were more Soviet tanks coming down the trail towards Team Yankee's position broke up the meeting. Bannon asked Jordan if he had any orders for him. Still not completely caught up on the overall picture and somewhat shaken from his experience, Jordan replied, "No, just hold the flank." With that, Bannon mounted 66 and moved up to rejoin the Team.

  Bob Uleski was still in the process of redeploying the Team when the Soviets appeared.

  When he had arrived at the position, two of the three tanks the Mech Platoon had hit were burning and giving off clouds of thick black smoke. There was no doubt the next group of Soviets would be able to see the smoke and would put two and two together. The trick of hiding in the woods would not work a second time. After a quick consultation with Polgar, Uleski had 3rd Platoon and his tank deploy on either side of the trail at the tree line where the security element had been watching the open area in the woods. The Mech Platoon, divided into two groups, each with two Dragons, began to deploy to the tree lines on the north and south side of the open area. The plan was for the 3rd Platoon to bar the trail physically while the Mech Platoon hit the Soviets on both flanks. The Mech Platoon was not yet in position, however, when the Soviets started coming. The lead Soviet tank rolled out into the open and then stopped as soon as he saw the black smoke. It was obvious that the tank commander was reporting and would be able to see the 3rd Platoon sitting in the tree line at a range of six hundred meters. So Uleski ordered Garger to open fire. Two 3rd Platoon tanks quickly destroyed the T-72.

  As he watched the T-72 burn, Uleski got Polgar on the radio and told him to get into position fast. It wouldn't be long before the Soviets made their next move. Uleski then entered the battalion net to report, requesting artillery on the trail across the open area from him where the Soviets were probably lined up. It was now a question of who would be ready first.

  The Soviet battalion commander was not at all happy with his situation. The regimental commander was pushing him to attack and would not listen to reason. The Americans had his battalion bottled up on the trail with almost no room to maneuver. When his last appeal to the regimental commander was greeted with a hail of threats and abuse, he gave up. He ordered his remaining tanks, now down to eighteen, to bunch up under cover of the woods. When he gave the order, they were to rush into the open area to their front, deploy on line, and attack the far tree line. He hoped they would be able to overwhelm the enemy with speed and firepower. There was nothing else to do.

  Major Snow blew up when he received word to turn around and fly back to attack the target he had just been told was no longer there. Over the air he told his wingman, so that everyone on the net would hear, "Those people in flight operations have no idea what they're doing! If they wave us off one more time, we're going to go back there and bomb them." His wingman went along with the abuse of their ground controllers by recommending that they forget the mission and just bomb the controllers. Major Snow simply shook his head and turned back to the heading they had just left. Maybe, just maybe, there was something there this time.

  The T-72s began to pour out of the tree line and fanned out to the left and right. Polgar was still not yet in position. With so short a distance and so few tanks to stop the Soviets, Uleski had no doubt that some of the T-72s would make it to them. He knew as they began to fire that it was going to be a hard fight this time.

  As the two A- 1 Os came up to the target area, they saw numerous pillars of black smoke rising up into the sky. To the front left in the valley there was a large amount of smoke. But that wasn't where they had been directed. Further east, in a saddle between two hills there were fewer columns of smoke. That was where they were going. As the A-lOs closed on the spot, a clearing crowded with tanks appeared to their front. Neither he nor his wingman knew whose they were. Without an air controller on the ground to help, the only thing left to do was to overfly them and check them out. Commenting to his wingman that this was a hell of a way to do business, Snow dropped down and went in.

  One pass was all Major Snow needed. He brought his A-10 up, circled around, and told his wingman to follow him in on the next run. The tanks were Russians'. Finally, they were going to get to kill something.

  At first Uleski thought the aircraft that buzzed overhead was Soviet. It had come and gone too fast for anyone to see, not that anyone had been looking. T
he entire clearing was filled with T-72s. The 3rd Platoon was firing as fast as possible and receiving return fire from the advancing Soviets. When he reported the aircraft, the Team's FIST came back and told him that they should be A-lOs that had been requested. Not sure, Uleski continued with the business at hand and hoped for the best.

  The A-IOs came in from behind the Soviets and opened up with their 30mm cannons. In a shower of armor-piercing and HE shells, several T-72s blew up. As the two A-IOs overflew the west side of the tree line Snow noticed the American tanks there firing on the Soviets.

  He cautioned his wingman to watch out for them. There was only two hundred meters between the U.S. and the Soviet tanks. This was truly close air support.

  By the time Bannon arrived on the scene it was all over. Coming up next to 55 from behind, he stopped and surveyed the open area. There were at least fifteen T-72s burning to the front. Looking down the tree line he could see that one of the 3rd Platoon tanks was also burning. After making sure that the Soviets had really broken off the attack, Bannon dismounted and ran over to 55. Uleski was just getting over the shock of having been in such a near thing. One Soviet tank had managed to reach a point less than fifty meters from 55. He quickly pulled himself together and reported what had happened and the status of the Team. Satisfied that Uleski had the situation well in hand and that the Soviets wouldn't be coming back this way, Bannon reported to Major Jordan and cancelled the order for 2nd Platoon to come up. As he waited for new orders, he went over the morning's events in his mind. It wasn't even noon and already the Team had been in four different engagements and had lost three tanks. The mission of the battalion had been changed, and instead of being the lead battalion in the attack, it was now defending the flanks. It was shaping up to be a hell of a day.

  CHAPTER TWELVE