by James Rosone
*******
Captain Long swatted at a mosquito before leading the way with his point man to link up with Alpha. It was still dark. He nearly tripped over some roots that seemed to be doing their best to grab at him, preventing him from moving forward. It was almost as if the undergrowth knew he was walking into danger and Mother Earth was trying to stop him as the roots and vines clung to him with each step.
Captain Long spoke into this radio to one of his fellow company commanders. “Alpha Six, this is Echo Six. Have your rearguard turn their IRs on. We’re nearly to your position.” The last thing Long wanted to have happen was a friendly fire situation, so he was grateful at the moment that they all had infrared goggles.
Seconds later, he and his point man saw the pulsing throb of the infrared light as it flashed every couple of seconds, guiding them toward Alpha Company’s position. A few minutes later, they connected with the other Marines. One of the sergeants led Captain Long to link up with Captain Dave Mitchell, the Alpha Company commander.
Captain Long looked around as he walked, noticing how bright it was starting to get. The sun had just broken past the horizon a few minutes ago, forcing the darkness of the evening to retreat. “Perfect timing,” he thought. “We’ll get in position before the morning sun is fully up.”
Captain Mitchell had just finished eating one of his MREs when Long approached. He smiled as he stood and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, Tim. I hope the trek over here wasn’t too bad,” he said with a smile.
“It’s good to see you as well, Dave,” Captain Long responded. “You weren’t joking when you said the terrain to get here was tough. I thought those vines and roots were going to pin me down so those mosquitos could eat me alive.”
Captain Mitchell chuckled as he swatted at a mosquito himself. “Yeah, I think those things are the national bird around here or something—they’re as big as a freaking quarter. Let’s go ahead and get your guys filtered into our lines. I want to show you on the map what we’ve run up against.” Mitchell made a motion to his senior NCO, so he would go ahead and get Long’s men moving while they still had the cover of some darkness left.
Pulling out his map, Mitchell showed Long where the enemy positions where in relationship to the intelligence they’d been given. Captain Long pulled out his own map to write down the information as well. “Right here, this spot is one massive machine-gun bunker,” explained Captain Mitchell. “We hit it with a number of 155mm arty rounds, but they couldn’t get through it. No effect. From what we could see, there are at least five heavy machine guns in it and at least two antitank guns or light artillery guns. Roughly three hundred meters to the right of this position, which is over by Bravo Company, is a second fort just like this one. I talked with Captain Floyd, and he said there’s a third fort just like these two, roughly four hundred meters to his right. That fort has an excellent field of fire over most of Route 9 through this point here.”
Long looked at what he’d just been shown and grunted. “This is going to be a lot tougher than we thought,” he realized.
Captain Long asked, “What’s behind these forts? Are there more fortifications we’ll have to fight through once we clear these guys, or is this it?”
Captain Mitchell’s face reddened a bit, and Long immediately surmised that he didn’t know the answer. “I, um, I’m not sure,” he stammered. “I let us get bogged down with these bunkers and didn’t have anyone scout behind them.”
“OK, then that’s the first thing we need to figure out,” said Long patiently. “We’re going to focus on hitting these two forts this morning with an air strike. While that’s happening, I want you to have one of your scout teams find a way behind this fort here,” he explained as he pointed to the first fortification directly across from them. “Then we should have them move at least a kilometer behind the enemy positions before moving north to see what’s behind them. We need to know if this is just the first layer of defense, or if it’s wide-open country behind them.”
“We can try and use some of the scout drones. They may get shot down or tangled up under the tree cover, but it won’t hurt to try,” one of the platoon leaders offered.
Captain Long nodded in agreement. Then he turned to Master Sergeant Hill. “I need to know if we can get some bombs on those forts,” he explained. “Do you think you can try and make that happen?”
The Air Force master sergeant had been listening to the two captains talk and had made some notes of his own. He looked down at the maps and nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem, but we need to make sure none of our guys move any closer. These bombs are going to be danger close when they land. We’ll see if a 500-pounder does the job. If it doesn’t, we’ll hit it with something larger, but we’ll need to make sure you pull your Marines back a few hundred meters if we’re going to drop a 2,000-pounder.”
“Make it happen, Master Sergeant. Let us know when it’s heading our way,” he ordered.
The next twenty minutes went by quickly as the Marines filtered onto the front lines and prepared themselves for the coming airstrikes. If the Air Force was able to smash the enemy forts, then they’d charge forward and seize the ground.
As jets rushed overhead, most of the Marines looked up at the sky. Captain Long heard a loud noise like a rocket engine.
Swoosh!
Two elongated objects shot up out of the ground toward the jets, filling the area where they had just launched with smoke. The objects rushed into the clouds so fast, they seemed to create a path of lightning as they traveled toward the jets.
Boom!
The jets broke the sound barrier and then sped off. There was a slow-motion second of silence before one of the platoon leaders shouted, “Everyone down! Bombs inbound!”
The Marines instantly buried their heads below any cover they could find and opened their mouths slightly, just as they had been told to do when a bomb was being dropped danger close.
The ground beneath them shook like an earthquake as it bounced the Marines an inch or two off the ground before throwing them back onto the hard surface. Then a massive gust of wind from the overblast rushed over them and the incredible sound of the explosion slapped their bodies. Debris fell down from the sky around them like rain from a storm, covering them in dirt, grass and vegetation.
Captain Long looked in the direction of the explosions and marveled at the sheer power and destructiveness of such a weapon. It never ceased to amaze him how such a small metal object could cause so much death and destruction. As the dust settled, they saw the bunker, largely still there, though it was clear it had suffered some serious damage. The northern part of the structure had a hole in it, and smoke was pouring out of two of the gun slits. Clearly the bomb had penetrated the structure and killed a lot of its inhabitants.
Lifting the radio receiver to his lips, Captain Long called out to the units on the front lines. “SITREP. Did all the bombs score hits?” he asked.
A minute went by and then, one by one, the various sections of their front line called in saying the bombs had found their marks. Each section reported a hit. Captain Long nodded in satisfaction at the news.
“Good job, Master Sergeant,” Long said as he jovially patted the Air Force TACP on the shoulder.
“Thank you, Sir,” Master Sergeant Hill responded. Then his face dropped. “Just so you’re aware, we lost one of the F-16s on that strike,” he explained.
Captain Long was surprised at the comment. Then he remembered seeing those two surface-to-air missiles fly up out of the tree cover. Long just nodded and returned a grim look as he acknowledged the sacrifice just made to help save his Marines.
Without taking too much more time, Captain Long turned to his radioman or RTO. “Corporal Perez, send the order for everyone to advance,” he directed.
The Marines, who moments ago had been hunkering down for the airstrike, moved forward at a crouch toward the enemy positions. Captain Long signaled for his RTO and senior NCO to follow him forward. He want
ed to be as close to the action as possible to better direct the battalion’s resources. The Air Force TACP grabbed his own M4 and joined them as well, along with one of his junior airmen.
When the Marines got to within one hundred meters of the fortifications, they saw the bunkers were a lot more complex than they had previously thought.
The radio crackled. The scout they had sent out earlier was on the other end. “Sir, there’s at least one more layer of forts behind this one, potentially more. It’s hard for me to see that far through the dense undergrowth.”
Crack, crack, zip, zip, BOOM.
One of the Marines in the lead had stood up a little too high as he tried to climb over a fallen log. The poor young man was ripped apart by dozens of bullets from one of the machine-gun bunkers. Then several grenades arched through the air in their direction, and they started taking fire from what appeared to be a light-caliber field cannon.
Most of the Marines leading the charge hit the dirt as they ducked to get out of the way of the barrage of bullets being fired at them.
“Suppressive fire!” shouted one of the sergeants to the Marines nearby, and the second and third line of Marines quickly obliged, giving the first group of Marines a chance to find cover and start returning fire.
“Get us some artillery fire up here!” shouted another Marine. More of the Marines’ machine guns came online, adding to the roar of gunfire.
Thousands of hot metal projectiles flew back and forth between to the two groups of soldiers. The crisscrossing of red and green tracers added a futuristic laser affect to the battlefield as smoke drifted across the ground, further illuminating the tracers’ effects. Captain Long crouched down behind a large tree just as a string of rounds slapped the trunk, chipping parts of it away.
“Crap, that was close!” yelled Corporal Perez as he crawled up to Long.
“Get me some artillery fire on those positions!” Captain Long shouted. His voice was barely audible over the roar of gunfire happening all around them.
Another explosion blasted loudly not far from them, and one Marine was sent flying sideways from the blast, slamming in to a tree before falling limply to the ground. Master Sergeant Hill, the Air Force TACP, was already on the radio with his counterparts, trying to determine if they had any fast movers loitering above them that might be able to lend them some support.
Corporal Perez handed Captain Long the radio receiver, yelling, “I’ve got Ripper One-One on the other end!”
Long snatched the receiver from Perez, placing it to the side of his face as he depressed the talk button. “Ripper One-One, this is Echo Six. Fire mission. Target Zulu One, one round HE. Stand by for adjustments!” he shouted.
“Good copy, Echo Six. Stand by for fire mission,” came the reply from the fire direction center.
Normally he’d work through his fire support officer, but he knew the other company commanders would be calling him. Long was hoping to lighten the man’s load and handle his own company’s fire mission requests for the time being.
“Echo Six. Shot out,” the fire direction center operator announced. A couple of minutes later, the round came sailing in right through the tree cover and landed just behind the fortified enemy position, throwing up a geyser of dirt and underbrush.
“Ripper One-One. Adjust fire, drop twenty meters. Repeat last fire mission,” Captain Long ordered.
Just as Long finished speaking, an enemy explosion ripped through the Marine lines. The PLA was doing their best to keep the Marines from getting too close to their positions. Then the whistling sound of the friendly artillery round screamed in overhead, this time landing right on top of the enemy fortification. The structure shook, though it was clear the round had not penetrated the reinforced concrete.
“Ripper One-One. Good shot,” shouted Long. “Give me one smoke round and two rounds HE on that same spot, and stand by for adjustments.” Captain Long crossed his fingers and hoped this next set of rounds might get lucky. If nothing else, it should shake the enemy up and potentially be enough of a shock to them that the Marines might be able to bum-rush them.
Switching over to the company net, Captain Long shouted to his platoon commanders. “Listen up! When the next round of artillery hits the enemy bunker, I want everyone to charge the bunker as quickly as you can. We need to close the gap on them once we stun them.”
When the next rounds came crashing in, the explosions seemed to blast the fortified positions hard, throwing debris high into the air. Then the smoke round burst open, throwing smoke canisters all over the enemy positions, temporarily obscuring their view.
“Charge!” yelled Captain Long. He tossed the radio receiver back to his RTO as he jumped out from behind his covered position and ran forward toward the enemy lines as quickly as possible.
Long jumped over some fallen trees and fought not to get tangled up by the hanging vines and other undergrowth as he struggled to catch up to the rest of his Marines, who were now running toward the enemy as fast as they could.
Slowly at first, a couple of enemy machine guns resumed their melody of death as they blindly crisscrossed the battlefield in front of them. At least their once-dominant view of the area was now obscured by the infrared-resistant smokescreen the artillery unit had laid down for Captain Long’s men.
In a matter of minutes, several platoons’ worth of his Marines had made it to within twenty meters of the enemy positions. Unexpectedly, a light breeze suddenly blew through the jungle canopy, dispersing the smokescreen that had been protecting his men. As the smoke dissipated, the enemy machine-gun fire became a lot more accurate as the PLA homed in their aim. Then, the field cannon in the bunker resumed firing, blowing parts of tree trunks apart and sending shrapnel flying in all directions.
Captain Long was now less than forty meters from the first bunker. He took a knee behind a large tree trunk as he aimed his rifle at the enemy. A round cracked right past his head, causing him to instinctively flinch and duck behind the tree for cover. He looked back and saw Corporal Perez, his RTO, wince in pain and grit his teeth as he momentarily dropped his rifle. He’d been shot in his left arm. One of the Air Force TACPs that was running next to him stopped, grabbed Perez and his rifle and pulled both of them behind a large rock as a string of bullets kicked up a bunch of dirt around them.
Long popped out from behind the tree trunk, aimed his rifle at the gun slit that was shooting at them and squeezed the trigger. His rifle barked several times as he fought to keep his rounds in a tight shot group, right where he knew the enemy machine gunner to be.
Out of his peripheral vision, Captain Long spotted a small cluster of Marines who had managed to crawl up to the bunker. He smiled. They’d somehow gotten themselves to the base of the fortified position without being seen and were readying to take it out. One of the Marines pulled the pin on a grenade, then held it for a second before he shoved it into the gun slit. A second later, Captain Long heard a loud explosion, and then the enemy position fell silent.
Further down the fortified position, the other machine guns and field cannon continued to fire on them. Hundreds of bullets were still ripping the trees around them apart, some of the bullets finding their marks and hitting his Marines. Even above the roar of gunfire, Captain Long could still hear the wounded call out, “Corpsman!”
Near him, Long spotted one of the Navy corpsmen assigned to them jump up and run under heavy enemy fire to give aid to the wounded Marines. Captain Long admired the man for courageously risking his own personal safety to help save others.
The group of Marines who had made it to the edge of the fortified bunkers steadily made their way down the structure, tossing grenades into the gun slits and firing ports as they went along. They had nearly made it to the end when an enemy soldier inside must have discovered what was happening and dropped a couple of their own hand grenades outside the bunker. Before the Marines could respond, the two grenades exploded, killing or injuring all four Marines who had been systematically silencing
the enemy positions.
Several additional Marines charged forward to take their place and provide medical help to their brethren. Unfortunately, they were quickly cut down by an enemy machine-gun crew who had anticipated this action. One of the groups of Marines eventually did make it up to the bunker and finished the job the first group had started. In all, it had taken them maybe fifteen minutes to silence the enemy bunker once they’d charged it, but it had cost Captain Long’s company the lives of six Marines, and another dozen had been injured.
The same scene played itself out at the other three fortified positions, with the Marines eventually capturing the enemy positions. Now that they had a better picture of what was waiting for them at the next line of enemy defenses, Captain Long insisted on the Air Force plastering the Chinese positions with their heavier ordnance. They’d hang back a kilometer or so away and allow the fast movers to hit them with the heavier 2,000-pound bombs. If things went according to plan, the enemy positions would be largely destroyed by the time his battalion was ready to assault the next position.
As the day wore on, the sound of explosions and machine-gun fire continued to fill the entire reservoir area as the rest of the Marine division pushed its way through the enemy lines. The fighting was fierce and often devolved into hand-to-hand fighting. In the distance, Captain Long observed as dozens of surface-to-air missiles that had been hidden in the jungle rocketed out of their covered positions to reach out and hit the Allied planes as they swooped in to provide desperately needed close air support. Long had no idea what kind of losses the Navy and Air Force were taking, but he was glad to see them continuing to support them despite the grave risks to themselves and their aircraft.
While Long’s battalion waited for the Air Force to get around to hammering their targets, he fell more fully into the role of battalion commander. His time and energy began to be consumed with making sure the various companies had enough ammunition, the wounded Marines were getting brought out of the jungle and back to the medics at the basecamp, and overall coordination of his battalion’s operations in relationship to the other battalions in their regiment. As the day turned to evening, Long had all but turned over operational control of his own company to his executive officer.
