Battlefield Russia

by James Rosone

  “The other police officers were killed or taken away by the communists, never to be heard from again,” Mr. Lee translated.

  Mr. Lee and Major Fowler started talking with the man to try and gather as much intelligence as possible on this enemy fort they kept hearing about.

  “He has confirmed that he knows the fort exists, but he doesn’t have the exact details of how big it is or know how many soldiers are there,” translated Mr. Lee. “All he knows is that most of the local villagers were rounded up many months ago to work on building it.”

  Given this new bit of information, Mr. Lee looked for volunteers to provide some more information. One of the villagers seemed particularly happy to divulge any information that might compromise their occupiers. “The bunker is built with reinforced cement—it’s going to be hard to destroy,” explained Mr. Lee. “He says its located at Luyeh Highland, which has a commanding view of the river and surrounding area. If we are going to move further inland, he says we have to destroy it.” The villager and the policeman confirmed on a map the location of the fort.

  Sergeant Price had been listening to all the back-and-forth exchanges between the interpreter and the major. He hoped they would just make camp at this village for the night and try to probe the enemy fort in the morning. It had already been a long day, and it seemed like finding this fortified position could wait another day.

  ********

  The following morning, their company made their way along the edge of the river, until they came to the Luanshan Communication Road, which spanned 300 meters in length across the river leading to Luye Township, south of Luye City. The bridge was situated at the mouth of the Huatung Valley, a critical piece of real estate they needed to capture.

  Knowing there was a fortified enemy position nearby, Major Fowler had requested some armor support before they tried to cross the location on foot. Before long, a company from the 73rd Cavalry Regiment arrived with a dozen of their JLTV vehicles. A feeling of excitement permeated the group when they heard the sound of those joint land tactical vehicles approaching.

  Several of the JLTVs had the long-range acquisition systems or LRASs on them, which allowed them to search for targets up to ten kilometers away and lase them for artillery or airstrikes. Using the LRASs, the vehicles quickly searched the high ground behind the township for potential enemy positions.

  One of the privates operating an LRAS signaled for Sergeant Price to walk over. When Price arrived, the private told him, “Sergeant, check this out. There are several areas with a heavy concentration of radio antennas.”

  Price shared the news with his CO. “We must’ve found them,” confirmed Major Fowler.

  They set about making plans and preparations for how to proceed, and Fowler called in for additional support. Around midday, two squadrons from the Australian 14th Light Horse Regiment arrived with a squadron of Aslan armored vehicles, which were armed with 25mm chain guns. Sergeant Price smiled when he saw the squadron of M1A1 Abrams battle tanks they’d brought with them.

  After everyone had been brought up to speed, Major Fowler sent a squad of Rangers to clear the bridge, making sure there were no explosives rigged to the structure. Everyone collectively held their breath while the search took place, but eventually, the Rangers returned unscathed and gave the all clear.

  The Ranger Commander spoke with the Aussies. “Can we get you to send two of your Aslans across the bridge? You all have heavier armored vehicles than us, and they could take the hits better than the ones we have here.”

  The Australian major in charge obliged, and soon two Aslans were rolling across the structure. Their journey was uneventful. Once they’d crossed over, they moved to either side of the road, roughly 100 meters ahead of the bridge exit to provide cover for the tanks. One by one, the Abrams tanks were sent over and took up positions on the opposite side of the river.

  Something about this just didn’t feel right to Sergeant Price. “Why haven’t they taken a shot at us yet?” he wondered. “They have to see us.”

  The armored vehicles continued to cross the bridge one by one, and still no one had had any contact with the enemy. The rest of the Aslan vehicles and the 73rd Cavalry Regiment joined them. Not to be outdone by the armor and reconnaissance units, the rest of the Rangers also crossed the bridge.

  Despite the continued calm, the hairs on the back of Sergeant Price’s neck stood up. Then all hell broke loose.

  Zip, zap, whoosh, BOOM, BAM!

  Heavy machine-gun fire raked the infantry positions, and a fusillade of RPGs and antitank missiles sprang forward from Luye Junior High School directly in front of them and a Buddhist temple to their right. The tanks’ antimissile defensive systems prevented the first barrage of missiles from hitting most of them. However, two of the Aslans exploded in spectacular fashion, throwing fire and shrapnel in every direction. The twelve tanks in the squadron fired several rounds into the buildings where the enemy fire was emanating from, silencing the attack as quickly as it had begun.

  While the area was temporarily covered in smoke from the explosions and cannon fire, the Australian and American troops did their best to use that as cover to push further into the small township toward the enemy positions. As they rushed forward, Sergeant Price heard the dull thumping sound of mortars being launched. Then a higher pitched scream really caught his attention.

  “Crap, those are katyusha rockets,” he realized.

  Boom, boom, boom, crump, crump.

  The 82mm mortar rounds and 122mm rockets peppered the bridge area and the edge of the township. The Australian infantrymen and Rangers did their best to get into the town and seek shelter. Rockets and mortars began exploding all around them. High-velocity shrapnel whizzed past them, hitting nearby trees, buildings, and anything else in its path. Sergeant Price felt his heart pounding out of his chest as he raced to get out of the impact zone.

  As Price looked up toward the elementary school to his right, he spotted movement in the tree line. “Contact front!” he shouted. “Two hundred meters to my three o’clock!”

  “I see it! Enemy machine gun!” yelled one of the other soldiers, who leveled his M240G at the new threat and lit up the position. Seconds after firing into the tree line, a barrage of bullets flew right back at them from several enemy gun positions they hadn’t spotted yet.

  Pop, pop, pop, zing, zing, crack.

  Several tree branches from the trees above Sergeant Price’s position disintegrated, dropping leaves and chunks of wood on him. “Suppressive fire!” he yelled to his squad. They changed positions rapidly, instinctively following their training. A couple of guys threw some grenades at the enemy, and the others used their M4s and opened fire on the enemy positions.

  One of Price’s soldiers leveled his grenade gun at the tree line, where the heaviest concentration of enemy fire was coming from, firing the 40mm grenade and quickly ducking before a slew of bullets flew over his head.

  Sergeant Price turned to look behind him and saw a cluster of Australian soldiers pointing in their direction. Then an Aslan started heading their way. A couple of the friendly soldiers motioned for them to take cover.

  “Everyone down!” Price shouted, straining to be heard over the roar of gunfire.

  Seconds later, the 25mm cannon on the Aslan tore into the tree line in front of them. When the vehicle had stopped shooting, Price stuck his head up and saw the area had been ripped apart. The Aslan had shredded the enemy positions; most of the trees had been cut down to stubs.

  Sergeant Price recognized that there was an opportunity to seize while the enemy might still be disoriented. “Charge!” he screamed to his squad.

  The Rangers jumped up and ran forward with their weapons at the ready. The Australian soldiers and the lone Aslan advanced quickly behind them, ready to provide support should they need it. When they reached the enemy positions, they found the dead and dying littered about in a chaotic mash. Most of the Chinese soldiers had been ripped apart by the high-velocity cannon sh
ells. Some were missing limbs, desperately calling out for help. Price’s lone medic began to help the enemy wounded where he could; then a couple of Australian medics came forward and also rendered aid.

  “Staff Sergeant Price!” shouted his platoon leader.

  “Yes, Sir?” Price asked as he turned to face Lieutenant Martinez.

  “We’re going to hold up here for the moment,” ordered Martinez. “One of the reconnaissance units found the enemy fort that the police officer and farmers told us about. It’s roughly two kilometers in front of us. One of the tanks was just hit by an antitank gun built into it.” The LT waved in the direction of the stronghold.

  “Please tell me someone is calling in an air strike on that location, LT,” said Sergeant Price.

  Martinez smiled and nodded. “Yeah. It’s inbound now. Going to drop a 2,000-pound JDAM on them. The CO wants us to move over near the tanks and be ready to support them when they move on the enemy fort. It looks like you guys have this area cleared—why don’t you leave it to the Aussies here to clean up? We need to get moving.”

  Price nodded and yelled out to his squad, “Follow me! Let’s get moving.”

  A couple of Aussie platoons moved into the enemy positions they’d just cleared. They would hold this section of the town while the Rangers moved to the next location.

  Once Sergeant Price’s men reached the location where the tanks were currently sitting and waiting, they dropped their packs and broke out their boxes of extra ammo. His soldiers knew what to do without even being told. They would use their free time to reload their empty magazines and get ready for the next assault. While they waited for the Air Force or Navy to send a jet over to drop some bombs, some of the Rangers pulled out MREs and wasted no time chowing down on some food. The level of physical exertion they had expended in the last several hours had drained many of them, and food and water was one way to replenish some of that energy.

  Thirty minutes after Price’s squad had sat down to wait for the Air Force and the tanks to make their move, their company CO walked over to talk to them.

  “Listen up, Rangers. There’s been a change of plans,” announced Major Fowler. “A brigade from the 63rd division is moving up here tonight. The Air Force is going to plaster the enemy fort tomorrow morning and the 63rd, along with the Aussies here, are going to clear it out, along with the rest of the valley. After nearly a month in the field, we’re being pulled out and back to the airfield. I have no idea where we’re going next, but let’s enjoy the reprieve for the moment, because you can bet your paychecks they’ll be sending us back into the thick of it soon enough.”

  Battle of Fei-ts Ui Reservoir

  Crack, crack, BOOM.

  The sounds of war were ever present for the men of Echo Company, 2-6 Marines as they began the first day of Operation Spartan, a Marine-led operation to clear the Fei-ts Ui Reservoir, the last major enemy stronghold on the island.

  This key location in the northern center of Taiwan provided the majority of the island’s freshwater and was also one of the only routes left to the west coast of the island, so it was a critical piece of land. The reservoir and the entire surrounding area was heavily defended by the PLA’s 121 Motorized Infantry Brigade, which was a specialized jungle unit, as well as their parent unit, the 123 Mechanized Infantry Division. These Chinese forces had spent the better part of six months preparing the area for this very battle, and their commanders definitely would have been aware that clearing the reservoir was one of the last major obstacles to the Allies in securing the island.

  Captain Tim Long was feeling apprehensive about the upcoming hostilities. Unfortunately, just the day before, his new battalion commander, a freshly promoted lieutenant colonel by the name of Mohamed Abadi, had been killed along with his executive officer and two staff officers when their M-ATV command vehicle had driven over a tank mine on their way back from a division briefing about the operation. Despite the vehicle’s armor, it had been completely obliterated, killing all of the men inside instantly. With only six hours left until the operation was slated to kick off, Colonel Tilman had placed Captain Long in the position of de facto battalion commander until another officer could be pulled from another unit to take his place.

  Captain Long wasn’t normally superstitious, but Lieutenant Colonel Abadi had been the second battalion commander that 2-6 had lost in the past three months, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled to find himself in the same position. This sudden shift in responsibilities was also a lot for him to mentally prepare for in a short amount of time. He had a lot of intelligence and data to sift through.

  Long pored over maps, memorizing the marks where there were potential enemy positions and fortifications. From what he was able to gather, there were a series of enemy forts built along Route 9 at multiple points and elevations. What he still didn’t know was exactly how complex these fortifications were. He couldn’t find any information on whether or not they had machine-gun positions, antitank or artillery cannons. He didn’t know what type of infantry support they had or what type of antiair defenses they had in the area.

  He sighed. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough once we head in,” he thought, frustrated.

  At 0530 hours, Captain Long found himself standing in front of the company commanders of Alpha, Bravo, Charley, Delta, Fox, and of course, his own company, Echo. He knew he should say something profound, even inspiring, but he was at a loss for what to say. The sudden unexpected death of their battalion CO had caught them all off guard. Steeling himself, he looked up at the group.

  “We’ve had a rough couple weeks, and I’m not going to sugarcoat it and say this operation will be a walk in the park,” Captain Long began. “This is probably going to be just as tough as the invasion, maybe tougher. We’re finally moving inland, but we’ll be attacking the enemy on ground of his choosing, not ours. That said, we can and will defeat them.”

  He stood a little taller before he continued. “Unlike the enemy, we haven’t been abandoned by our country to fight and die on some island. They have. We are Marines—the greatest fighting force on earth, backed by the greatest country on earth. I’ve been assured by Colonel Tilman that we will have close air support from both the carriers offshore, and the Air Force, who’s finally got themselves set up at the airfield in Toucheng, near the coast. He also said the 1-10 Marines have settled into Firebase Ripper, so we’ll have both 105mm and 155mm artillery support for the duration of the operation. Their call sign is going to be Ripper One-One.”

  Long turned to another captain and signaled for him to step forward. “This is Captain Reich; he’s our FSO. If your unit needs fire support, direct your request to him, and his team will relay that request back 1-10 for support.”

  Captain Long signaled toward a new face in the unit, a man wearing a different uniform from the rest of the group. “This is Master Sergeant Hill. His six-man team is on loan to us from the Air Force. They are our tactical air control party or TACP group who’ll handle coordinating our close air support from both the Navy and the Air Force. If you need any airstrikes, get with your TACP, who’ll call it in.”

  Long finished going over who their support LNOs were going to be, confirming the call signs and frequencies everyone would be operating on. Then he pointed to a spot on the map hanging on the wall. “We’re going to move to this point here along Route 9. This is where the recon guys said is roughly the edge of where the enemy lines start. We’ll disembark the vehicles here and move in on foot. This farm area is where we are going to leave the vehicles, and will become our base camp for the time being. The aid station will be set up here.”

  He turned to face his Fox Company commander as he continued his brief. “I’m not changing Lieutenant Colonel Abadi’s plans from earlier. Your company will provide security for the base camp. You’ll need to clear an area for medical helicopters to land and find a spot for your mortar platoons,” he instructed.

  The captain nodded.

  “OK, guys. We all know our or
ders. We’ve gone over this plenty of times this last week in preparation for this operation. It’s time to execute, so let’s go make the Corps proud and kick the PLA where it hurts.”

  *******

  Two hours went by as the column of armored vehicles and trucks trekked through the winding mountain road known as Route 9 to their new base camp. They reached the small mountain city of Pinglin, where they disembarked their military vehicles and went to work on turning the area into a forward base camp. Alpha and Bravo companies were sent forward to the position the recon Marines had identified as the front lines to start identifying where the enemy was. The remaining four companies worked to get a perimeter established, build up machine-gun positions, and clear a suitable flat area for helicopters to land. By midday, a Seabee unit also showed up, bringing their construction equipment with them to aid in the transformation of the area into a forward fighting base.

  Toward the end of the day, Alpha and Bravo companies ran into the first of a series of enemy strongpoints. At first, the soldiers only had to deal with a few pop shots, but as both companies pressed forward, they ran into a series of fortified positions, which stopped them in their tracks.

  Back at the base camp, Captain Long listened to the radio chatter of the two company commanders as they relayed what they were seeing and called in for artillery support. In minutes, artillery rounds began flying overhead, on their way to hit the Chinese positions. Outside the operations tent, the men in the base camp could hear the distant sounds of explosions and heavy machine-gun fire. The fight was on, and Captain Long knew it was just a matter of time before they too would join in.

  As evening turned into night, Alpha and Bravo companies settled in to their positions for the night, facing the enemy. Thus far, the first day of the operation resulted in only eight Marines being injured, no fatalities. The following day would prove to be the real test. With their support base now operational, Captain Long planned on moving his other three companies forward to support Alpha and Bravo in the early hours of the morning. Come sunup, they’d launch their first major offensive.