by James Rosone
Opening Salvos
The Russians had given the US and NATO 48 hours to vacate eastern Ukraine and move back across the Dnieper River. That deadline was still twelve hours away…everyone was tense, unsure of what would happen once it passed.
Sergeant First Class Luke Childers’ platoon was the farthest element of the 4th Squadron, known as “The Saber." They were part of the 2nd Cavalry Regiment from Vilsack, Germany that had arrived in Ukraine to bolster the US and NATO forces already there. The Saber was acting as the eyes and ears for elements of the 1st Armored Division, which was arriving in Ukraine today. They were also the tripwire, in case hostilities did break out. They had been ordered the day before to advance to Kononivka and take up an observation position. The Russians had units stationed throughout the Poltavs'ka Oblast or region which placed them within forty miles of the Pryluky Airbase.
A mosquito buzzed by Luke’s ear, and he swiftly swung his hand to swat it against the side of his neck. As he looked around their position, he could smell the dirt and tree bark as the sun began to creep over the horizon. The rain had finally tapered off a couple of hours ago, after soaking them for the last sixteen hours. The weather had made the transit to their current position more covert as the sound of the raindrops hid their movement, but it also made identifying their observation post difficult.
“Six days,” thought Luke, “I can’t believe we have already been in Ukraine for six days. Here we are at the demarcation line, potentially facing off against the Russians who have taken up residence in eastern Ukraine as ‘peace-keepers.’ I remember all of those old stories Dad used to tell me about being stationed along the Fulda Gap during the height of the Cold War, with thousands upon thousands of tanks ready to roll across the border. I wonder if he’d be proud to know that forty years later, I’m sitting across from a Russian tank unit that might roll across my position.”
SFC Luke Childers was the Second Platoon Sergeant for Nemesis Troop. He had 46 soldiers he was responsible for, and one 2nd Lieutenant to mentor into hopefully becoming a great officer and military leader. His father would have been proud to see his son serving his country, if he hadn’t passed away in his fifties from a heart attack.
Nemesis Troop advanced to a small copse of trees, not far from the main highway where they also had a good commanding view of the E40 highway, which led to Kiev. If the Russians were going to launch an attack towards Kiev, they would have to pass through this area.
Once they had arrived at their position, the platoon immediately began to get their positions ready. They dug several fighting positions, setup camouflage netting for the vehicles and posted two listening posts on the far sides of each flank. In addition to the anti-tank missiles on the Stryker’s, they also had four Javelin launcher positions setup in the tree line. Their battalion commander had also assigned four soldiers from the Forward Support Troop which provided them with direct access to the regiment’s Paladin self-propelled 155mm artillery battalion. The forward observers immediately began to plot several pre-positioned artillery plots so if the Russians did show up, all they had to do was radio in the pre-determined positions which was significantly faster than trying to plot the enemy positions while under fire.
As the fog began to clear with the rising of the sun, Sergeant Childers thought he heard something, a soft sound of engines starting up in the distance. Suddenly, the birds in the trees down in the valley below them took to the air. “The noise came from a thicket about two kilometers in front of our position,” thought Luke. “Something scared those birds.”
Childers turned to look at the soldiers to his right and his left. The soldiers in his platoon had their faces covered in camouflage to help them blend in with their surroundings, and it had the added benefit of helping to keep some of the mosquitoes at bay. He lifted his right hand to his face, signaling to the others around that they may have possible movement to their front. Everyone began to settle down a little deeper against their hastily dug positions. Water from the rainfall not fully absorbed into the soil yet, so crouching down was covering their legs in mud and water.
Childers lifted his hand slightly and depressed his radio transmitter. He spoke in a soft voice so as not to draw any attention to his position. “Warhorse, this is Nemesis-two-two; we have possible contact, two kilometers to our front. Please advise on enemy activity in the area, over.”
Luke placed his rifle down in front of him and pulled out his micro-binoculars from a pouch on his Individual Body Armor (IBA). He began to slowly scan the area in the direction of the possible contact. “Maybe I can catch a glimpse of something,” he thought.
Their battalion commander responded to Luke’s radio message. “Nemesis-two, this is Warhorse actual. Intelligence reports possible motorized Russian battalion in the area. What do you see, over?”
As the morning fog continued to clear, they began to see more movement below in the valley. A second later, 2nd Lieutenant Jack Taylor squatted down next to him. “What do you see Sergeant?” he asked, leaning on his platoon sergeant for the expertise he lacked as a junior officer.
Turning slightly, Childers replied quietly, “In that wooded area, about two kilometers in front of us, we have movement near the village of Oleksiivka, just on the other side of the demarcation zone. You can see the soldiers at the checkpoint.” He pointed. “There appears to be a lot of activity of some sort just outside our view.”
Luke handed Jack the radio. “Why don’t you tell HQ what we are observing and let them figure out what they want us to do about it.”
Taylor nodded, then depressed the talk button on the radio, “Warhorse, this is Nemesis-two-two, we have probable enemy vehicles to our front, two kilometers. Primary objective is still covered in mist, possible enemy activity. How, copy?” he asked, hoping they would instruct him to just sit tight and wait for the sun to do its work and burn the mist away.
The men scattered in the tree line were wound tight, apprehensive about what might be waiting down in the valley below as the sun slowly began to disperse the morning fog. It would not be long before they would discover if hostilities with the Russians really were going to happen.
“Nemesis-two-two, this is Warhorse. Can you send your Raven up? We need eyes on that village, over.” The Raven was a small handheld infantry drone that had recently been issued to their unit a couple of months ago. It was a small drone, but could provide real-time video to the ground operators.
Childers nodded to Taylor, who responded, “Copy that, Warhorse. Will advise shortly.” They both knew the Raven was a good way to get eyes on the village, but they were concerned with the Russians potentially spotting it. The Russians, unlike the Taliban or ISIS, had the ability to track electronic signatures and radio traffic.
“The Russians are a real army,” thought Childers. “They could do a lot more damage than the Islamic extremists I’ve spent most of my military career fighting.” This was going to be new territory for SFC Childers; almost all of his experience in combat had been in the Middle East, where the enemy was disorganized, and while very scrappy, completely lacking in technique.
He turned slightly, and signaled for two of his soldiers to come towards him. “Specialist Tiller, PFC Black, I want you to deploy the Raven. Get it up over the village. Let’s see what you can spot,” he directed
Specialist Tiller was one of his best younger troopers. The kid was extremely bright. He was already into flying civilian drones, so when they offered him the opportunity to be responsible for the troop’s Raven, he jumped at it. They only had three soldiers in the troop that had been officially trained on how to operate the Raven; however, Tiller had taken it upon himself to train several others in his squad and platoon on how to operate it. He even volunteered his own personal drone to help teach others how to fly them and how they worked.
Specialist Tiller took his backpack off and unzipped it into two halves. He pulled the small Raven out of the carrying case, and quickly assembled the camera to the body of the dr
one and then unfolded the wings. His partner, Private First Class Ernest Black, got the wireless controller ready, turned it on and did a quick check to see that the camera was transmitting to the small monitor on the controller and the Toughbook that they had with them.
A minute later, PFC Black took the drone from Specialist Tiller, arched his right arm back and gave the drone a quick throw into the air. Specialist Tiller immediately gave the little drone a bit of power and it quickly began to gain altitude. Within a minute, the drone had risen to nearly 500 feet above their position as it headed down the valley towards the sound of the vehicles in the village.
Lieutenant Taylor and SFC Childers gathered around the Toughbook, looking at the images being transmitted by the drone. “PFC Black, is the drone synced with headquarters? I want to make sure they are seeing what we are seeing,” Taylor said, hoping the private had made sure this was taken care of before they had launched the drone.
PFC Black looked at the Lieutenant with one of those looks that said, “I know what I’m doing,” and just nodded. “I synced it with the coms from your vehicle before we sent it up. They should be seeing what we are seeing,” he explained, much to the relief of his Lieutenant.
Lieutenant Jack Taylor had only been with the squadron for three months prior to their deployment. He had just completed his officer advance school and airborne school a few months prior to being assigned to Nemesis Troop.
Before Taylor left for this mission, his Squadron Commander had sat him down. “I just want you to know, in no uncertain terms, that you should listen to SFC Childers. He was an Army Ranger, with eight deployments before he got injured. Not only is he an experienced and outstanding NCO, he will help you grow as a leader. There’s a reason he’s up for Master Sergeant--the guy is a wealth of information.” Jack had taken the conversation to heart.
As the drone made its way towards the checkpoint, the four men nervously watched the screen of the Toughbook. The drone flew about eight hundred feet above the copse of trees, and then it passed the checkpoint and started to fly over the village. Their stomachs sank. The video feed showed them 12 T-80 Main Battle Tanks (MBTs) lining up, along with a slew of other armored vehicles. Soldiers were quickly swarming around the vehicles, affixing various tree branches and foliage to the armor. It looked like the tanks were also covered in reactive armor, which meant they were geared up for combat.
“Oh wow, are those BMP-3s?” asked Lt. Taylor.
“Yeah, it looks like they have 16 of them, if my count is right,” answered SFC Childers. The BMP-3 was an amphibious vehicle that ran on a pair of tracks like a tank. Each one either had 100mm or a 30mm cannon as its main armament and carried seven soldiers inside their armored compartments; even though they came out in the 1980s, they were still feared on the battlefield.
As they panned the camera to the other side of the village, they saw a small column of 25 BTR-80s. They were 8x8 wheeled amphibious armored personnel carriers, which each carried seven soldiers and had a 14.5mm heavy machine gun. The BMP-3s and the BTR-80s were very similar to the American Strykers and Bradleys.
“Specialist Tiller, zoom in to that section over there, near the edge of those woods,” directed Lieutenant Taylor. “I think those are additional tanks,” he said, pointing.
Childers was impressed; the Lt. had spotted the barrels of tank cannons sticking out through edges of the trees. As Specialist Tiller zoomed in, they could make out what appeared to be eight T-14 Armata tanks. These were the Russians’ newest tanks. Each one had a 125mm main gun with a new anti-tank round. It was rumored that these tanks could outmatch the American M1A2s and the German Leopard Tanks that were deployed in Ukraine.
SFC Childers told Lieutenant Taylor, “This isn’t good, Sir. This is a large armored force we are facing. Something beyond what we can handle.”
The Lieutenant nodded. He tapped Tiller on the shoulder. “Head over towards that other field behind the village, over there. I think there are helicopters spooling up.” Although he was already feeling the weight of the situation, he had to know what was waiting for them back there.
As the drone expanded its camera view, Tiller moved the drone back towards a large empty field. Sure enough, there sat six Mi-24D Hind helicopters, which were being fueled. They were getting close to moving out, too, because their rotors were already beginning to spin.
Sergeant Childers turned to the Lieutenant and said, “Sir, you better call this in. They will want an exact count of what we are seeing.”
Childers wanted to give the lieutenant a chance to shine for his superiors. “It’s time he starts to take the lead, while I’m here to help make sure he doesn’t screw things up too badly,” he thought, half humorously. The lieutenant was still really green, but he wanted to see him succeed.
Lieutenant Taylor nodded and lowered his head towards the speaker on the radio. “Warhorse, this is Nemesis-Two-One. We have eyes on the village. Are you seeing what we are seeing?” he asked, wanting to know if he should relay what they discovered or just wait for further orders.
Nearly thirty seconds went by with no response. Then a voice suddenly buzzed through. “Nemesis-two-one, this is Warhorse. We copy. We want you to continue to monitor the units’ movements as best you can without being spotted. If they cross the demarcation line, then they are declared hostiles and I want you to engage them as best you can. I’ve alerted our artillery support; they will give you full priority.”
“Good, copy. We’ll engage them if they cross. Nemesis-two-one out,” Lt. Taylor responded. He flashed a look to his platoon sergeant that seemed to ask for some reassurance that he had done everything correctly.
Smiling, SFC Childers said, “Good job, LT. We made sure they knew what we were seeing. I’m a bit concerned about those T-14s though. That’s a lot of tanks across the way, and six attack helicopters on top of it. This could get real dicey very quick.”
*******
Lieutenant Colonel (LTC) Bradley Porter had just taken over command of the 4th Squadron known as "The Saber" eight weeks ago. He was new to the 2nd Cavalry, but definitely not new to the Cavalry. He was still learning the capabilities of his various troops, non-commissioned officers, and officers, when suddenly they were all placed on alert status and subsequently deployed (practically overnight) to Kiev, Ukraine. They had quickly headed to the Pryluky Airbase, ninety miles east of Kiev and forty-two miles from the current demarcation zone where the Russian units were.
In the span of a few days, his squadron became one of the most forward American elements in the Ukraine charged with supporting the 2nd Armored Brigade Combat Team and the 1st Armored Division, which was still half a day away (the armored units had been moving most of the night from Poland heading towards their frontline positions). This left LTC Porter’s Squadron rather exposed, but also gave the armor units the eyes they needed to know where to deploy their forces, should they need to repel a Russian invasion.
Major Light, the Squadron S3 (Operations Officer), confronted LTC Porter. “Sir, it looks like that Russian unit is getting ready to pull out of their position. Shouldn’t we order the platoon back? Their firepower won’t be enough to stop them.”
Porter replied, “No, I want them to stay in position. We need them to keep an eye on that unit now that they have been found. Besides, they have stinger missiles, TOWs, and Javelins with them. We may need them to set an ambush for the armor units,” he said confident that he had made the right decision.
“What Ukrainian units do we have in the area?” Porter inquired. “Perhaps we can get some additional armor support from them until that armored brigade arrives,” he thought.
Major Light walked over to the map board hanging on one of the tent poles. “Part of the 17th Tank Brigade is in the area,” he said as he pulled down a clipboard near the map and looked at some of the units written on it. “Yes, right here,” he asserted as he pointed to a spot on the map.
“About twelve kilometers away is the 25th Armor Battalion,” he cont
inued. “We have two American LNOs attached to it--call sign Echo Twelve. You want me to reach out to them and see if we can get them to reinforce Nemesis Troop?” the major asked, hoping he could send some additional reinforcements.
As LTC Porter walked over to the map board, he placed a red “X” on the village Major Light had just pointed out. He looked at the location of his other units near the Russian armored unit and the location of the Ukrainians troops. If he could get the Ukrainian armored units to cooperate, perhaps they could help provide some additional support to his battalion until additional American units arrived.
“Contact the American LNOs that are imbedded with that Ukrainian unit,” directed LTC Porter. “Tell them what we are facing, and see if they will move to reinforce our troops at the demarcation line. Then, make sure 2nd Armor knows what we are seeing and where those tanks are. Also, make sure they know we spotted T-14 Armatas and six Hinds. Find out if they are ready to assist should we need them,” he added.
They still had twelve hours until the end of the Russian deadline. The S3 turned and began to make several radio calls to the other units operating in their area. 2nd Armor had an advance unit, a battalion of tanks, and an aviation unit that arrived at Pryluky a couple of hours ago, ahead of the main body. As the men and women of the operations center began to start coordinating their operations with the next higher command and other units in the area, the realization that a confrontation with Russia could be hours away began to set in. No one wanted a shooting war with Russia, but everyone had a job to do and was determined to do it to the best of their ability.
*******
Colonel General Igor Nikolaev was the Commander of the Western Military District, and though he did not agree with decisions his superiors were making, he executed his orders without fail. He kept many thoughts to himself, which kept him out of trouble. “We are playing with fire by testing the Americans’ resolve,” he believed. “So far, the Americans have risen to our challenges. Well, at least I don’t have to listen to my subordinate commanders keep asking me if we are going to engage the Americans in Ukraine or stand down…that decision has finally been made.”
