by Harold Coyle
As the meeting broke up, First Lieutenant Matthews, who apparently was traveling with the brigade S-3, came over to Dixon. "Have you seen Randy,
I mean Lieutenant Capell, lately, sir?"
Dixon's anger left him as he looked into Matthews' eyes. "Yes, I just came from there. Randy is doing fine. He's happier than a pig in slop. Do you have a message you want me to give him?"
A smile lit Matthews' face. She reached down into a pocket of her BDUs, pulled out a crumpled letter and offered it to Dixon. "Would you give this to him, sir?"
With a grin, Dixon took the letter. "Sure, and I'll tell him you send all your love."
That made Matthews blush. She saluted, turned and hurried out to where the brigade S-3 was waiting.
When everyone but the people on shift had cleared out of the TOC, Master Sergeant Nesbitt came out of the S-3 M577 command track, carrying two steaming cups. "Looks like you could use some coffee."
Dixon took the cup offered by Nesbitt and began to shake his head in disbelief. "What I need is a good drink, Sergeant Nesbitt. Can you imagine that? The bloody Communists are close enough to spit on us, and the brigade commander wants to change things." He stopped, took a drink of coffee and thought for a moment before continuing. "Well, twenty-four hours from now we'll know who was right."
"You staying here tonight or going back forward?" "I really should go back out, but I won't. I need to 222 clean up some and get some sleep.
You got anything worth a damn to eat around here, Sergeant Nesbitt?"
Nesbitt went back into the command track and returned with two brown plastic pouches. "You have a choice tonight, sir. Pork patties or chicken a la king."
A disgusted look crept across Dixon's face. "Then the answer is no, you don't have anything worth a damn to eat."
"Well, sir, it's your choice, malnutrition or indigestion. I have them both."
"A comedian. I'm starving to death and I get a comedy act. Give me the chicken A la king. At least I know what that used to be." Dixon took the brown pouch offered by Nesbitt, tucked it under his arm and left after reminding the duty officer where he would be and when to wake him.
With everyone else gone, the people on duty in the TOC settled down for what promised to be a long and busy night.
Fifteen Kilometers North of Hajjiabad 1940 Hours, 7 July (1610 Hours, 7 July, GMT)
In the gathering darkness the shadowy area between the opposing forces began to come to life. The Soviet juggernaut, long awaited by the 2nd Brigade, had finally come within striking distance. Rather than crashing into the forward elements of the brigade, the lead Soviet forces slowed, then stopped for reconnaissance. The Soviets knew the approximate front-line trace of the American forces but not exact unit and vehicle locations. Reconelements and patrols would now creep forward under the veil of darkness to verify what information they had and pin exact locations of vehicles and weapons.
Plans at the operational level had been made by the 28th Combined Arms Army and issued the day before. Its subordinate divisions had, in turn, deployed in accordance with the army's orders and issued their own to their regiments. Regimental commanders and staffs decided on the tactical deployment their units would use 223 and issued orders for the execution of those tactics.
The exact axis of attack and timing of deployments as well as targeting would be based on intelligence gathered by patrols working their way into the midst of the Americans' positions. At an early-morning briefing just before the attack, the regimental intelligence officers would present a complete picture of U.S. forces to their front. With that information, the regimental commander would issue his final orders for the attack.
Forward of their main defensive positions, both American battalions deployed their scout platoons as a counter-reconnaissance screen. The mission of the scouts was to keep the Soviet recon elements from infiltrating into the battalions' area of operations and deceive them as to where the main defensive positions really were. The success or failure of the attack hinged on the skills of a handful of men sneaking about in the dark.
With darkness upon them, Capell signaled his scout platoon to move into their night positions, which stretched across the small valley that was the battalion's front. His squad leaders knew where to go and what to do. The tank platoon attached to him as part of the screen moved into shallow holes scooped out of the dirt in the center of the battalion's sector; though spread out with a distance of four hundred meters between tanks, the platoon was able to cover the entire center with surveillance and direct fire.
Two ground-surveillance radar teams, called GSRs, each equipped with a radar capable of detecting moving personnel at four thousand meters and moving vehicles at ten thousand, also were operating with Capell's scouts.
Only a few wadis and cuts along the flanks could not be covered by the M-1 tanks or the GSRs. That was where the scout platoon set up.
Capell and his men had no sooner moved into positions than a GSR team reported two wheeled vehicles eight thousand meters to their front.
Several minutes of tracking them left no doubt in Capell's mind that they were BRDMs of the Soviet regiment's recon company. Though he had sufcient information to call artillery on them, Capell held back. He wanted to see where they were 224 going without the Soviets knowing they were being tracked. At a range of five thousand meters, the two vehicles split up. One disappeared into a wadi that ran down the American battalion's western flank. The other moved forward slowly along the eastern flank, still being tracked by the GSR. The scout section on the western flank was notified of the approaching BRDM and was ordered to take it out. The tanks were able to track the other BRDM on the eastern flank with their thermal sights. They had the task of taking it out when the scouts hit the first BRDM.
Now began a deadly game of cat and mouse as the scouts waited for the BRDM to pop into view. There was always the possibility that the BRDM in the wadi would find cover and slip past Capell's waiting scouts. If that happened, the Soviets would be able to get into the battalion's main defensive areas. Capell worried about this but trusted his initial dispositions. Besides, it was too late to change them.
Across the valley from where Capell was, the low hills were suddenly lit up by the flash of a small cannon firing somewhere down in the wadi. As he slewed the turret of his Bradley in that direction, the pop-pop-pop report of a Bradley's 25mm. gun reached his location.
Watching, Capell saw a series of tiny flashes, then the eruption of a fireball. The first BRDM had been hit and killed.
The crack of a tank cannon and the streak of a 105mm. HEAT antitank round tore Capell's attention away from the burning BRDM in the far wadi. The tank crews had not waited for the order to fire. Instead, they had seized the opportunity to kill the second BRDM. A flash and a brilliant shower of sparks signaled to Capell that they had succeeded.
When silence returned to the valley, Capell called for all sections to report. This they did promptly. Capell in turn consolidated the information into one short, concise spot report and submitted the first of many sightings and contacts that night to battalion.
Headquarters, 28th CAA, North of Aliabad 2245 Hours, 7 July (1915 Hours, 7 July, GMT)
The staff of the 28th CAA's main command post had spent a good part of the day recovering from an early afternoon air attack. A group of F-15s had hit both the headquarters and a fuel dump four kilometers south of it. Losses in men and equipment had been heavy. Fortunately the commander and the first officer, Colonel Sulvina, had been absent at the time. Upon their return, they found their once efficient and orderly command post the scene of pandemonium and despair. The chief of staff, though alive, had been stunned by the concussion of a general-purpose bomb and was temporarily out of action. Until he recovered, Sulvina assumed the role of chief of staff.
Once order had been restored and the staff was sufficiently recovered from their shock, Sulvina had each primary and special staff officer prepare an update for the commander. He wanted to review the army's plan and capability onc
e more before the battle was joined.
The second officer outlined all current intelligence on the enemy.
Reports from the division's recon that night had not yet had time to reach army headquarters. A more complete picture would be ready just before the attack at dawn. The logistics officer, always harried, presented a picture of gloom. Based on statistics on hand and projected, the army did not have sufficient ammunition to conduct more than one major breakthrough attack.
He stressed that raids and attacks all along their supply routes were not only keeping ammunition from reaching the army in the quantities needed but were degrading the army's ability to supply itself at all.
Each time an ambush hit a supply column, trucks that were needed to haul future supplies were also lost. Even more critical than the ammunition shortage was the fuel situation. The logistics officer stated that the Americans were hitting anything that looked like a fuel dump, and he warned that unless the situation improved dramatically the army would run out of fuel within ninety-six hours.
Sulvina waited to discuss the next day's assault until he was alone with the commander. The 127th Motorized Rifle Division would conduct the main attack through Harvand against light-infantry units. Once the breakthrough was achieved, the 33rd Tank Division would be passed through the 127th MRD, probably in the vicinity of Tarom by midmorning.
A supporting attack by the 67th Motorized Rifle Division would hold the American armored brigade in place around Hajjiabad until the 33rd Tank Division was able to cut them off and isolate them.
If all went according to plan, Sulvina said, the American brigade facing them would be crushed in the next twenty-four hours. If the flow of fuel was not diminished any further, they would be able to reach the Strait of Hormuz, seize Bandar Abbas and complete their mission. If, however, anything went wrong, there was little hope for success. All the divisions in the 28th Combined Arms Army were wearing thin. Not only were supplies problem, but equipment and personnel were also at a critical level.
The 17th Combined Arms Army and the 9th Tank Army, whose assigned mission was to push through the 28th when the 28th could no longer advance, were no longer following. Instead, their divisions were diverted to other tasks.
The puppet government that had been set up to run the Soviet Republic of Azerbaijan was unable to control the Turkic tribes and required two full divisions to maintain order in Tabriz and other towns. Another division was tied down in Tehran chasing the shadows of Iranian rebels.
The majority of the 17th CAA was stretched between Tehran and Kerman, fighting remnants of the Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard and pro-U.S. Iranian groups being supplied by air. In short, there was no one except the well-worn 28th CAA left to finish the mission.
For better than an hour Sulvina and his commander discussed the situation and their options. In the end, at Sulvina's urging, the commander gave him permission to draft and transmit a message to the Front Commander recommending that the 28th CAA be authorized to employ chemical weapons.
Sulvina, upon leaving his commander returned to his small work area, where he pulled a prepared message from his field desk. He called the duty officer over, handed him the original copy of the message and instructed him to have it transmitted to Front Headquarters immediately. He then called in the assistant operations officer, the intelligence officer, the chemical officer and the artillery officer. He told them to prepare a list of targets that were vulnerable to chemical attack and present it to him for his review and approval by 0600 hours that morning.
After checking the situation reports and the most current intelligence one more time, Sulvina was satisfied that all was in order. With nothing more to do, he left word to wake him in four hours and then went to get some sleep. The next forty-eight hours were going to be critical and hard. The first thing in the morning he would begin to plan the next battle, the one that would take the 28th CAA to the Persian Gulf.
Fifteen Kilometers North of ia bad 0425 Hours, 8 July (0055 Hours, 8 July, GMT)
The reduction in the level of activity hadn't been noticeable at first.
In fact, it wasn't until shortly before 0400 hours that Capell realized that the Soviets were withdrawing and that the number of reports had been declining for the past hour. Even then he didn't attach any special meaning to that fact. His mind, like everyone else's, was running at half speed from stress, fatigue and lack of sleep. The reduction in action was greeted with relief and not questioned or considered suspect. Only the assistant intelligence officer at brigade, Lieutenant Matthews, saw the pattern.
Together with the report from airborne surveillance radars, she made the correct assessment. The patrols and the probing were over. The Soviets were about to attack.
The warning to prepare for a major Soviet attack going down to the battalions coincided with reports coming up from the scouts of the 2nd Brigade that the movement of large numbers of tracked vehicles could be heard. In the sector of the 3rd of the 4th Armor, tank crewmen and infantry squads scrambled onto their vehicles. Without waiting for or needing permission to move, company commanders rolled their platoons from their hiding positions into fighting positions. Members of the command group, woken with great difficulty, listened intently while they dressed to an update of the current situation given by the intelligence and operations officers who had been on duty during the night. Outside, their armored vehicles were being cranked up.
Within minutes the entire battalion was in motion, winding itself up for the impending battle.
The Soviet artillery bombardment came just before the first rays of light began to herald the new dawn. For most men in the armored battalion the artillery barrage was nothing more than a curiosity.
Soviet intelligence and artillery officers, confused by the battalion's dispersed nature, and the seemingly random digging by engineers, erred in their targeting. Few units were hit as the Soviet artillery fell on positions where vehicles used to be. While not all companies and platoons were equally lucky, the effect of the bombardment was, on the whole, negligible. Even the Soviet smoke rounds were of little use, as the gunners in Capell's Bradleys and M-1s switched their thermal sights on and continued to scan for signs of the enemy's advance.
In the gray morning twilight, the scout section of the battalion's western flank caught the first glimpse of the advancing Soviet columns at a range of eight kilometers. A quick spot report was followed by a call for artillery fire. Within minutes, U.S. artillery rounds were thundering north. The grim task of killing was well under way.
Dixon's Bradley pulled up into its position as the scouts completed sending in their first series of corrections to the artillery. By that time the Soviet columns were within five kilometers and beginning to deploy into platoon columns. Initial reports showed that they were headed for the western flank of the battalion's sector, where Dixon was situated.
That suited him fine. The battalion, with two tank and two mechanized companies, had deployed in positions that looked like a huge horseshoe on the map. One tank pure company, Alpha Company, was deployed across the valley floor behind an antitank ditch and a mine field. A pure-mech company, Charlie Company, was deployed on the high ground to one flank, with a tank-heavy company team, Team Bravo, on the other.
The fourth company team, Team Delta, had given one tank platoon to the scouts. The other two platoons, both mech, were in positions behind the tank company in the center, which allowed them to fire their TOW missiles over the tanks.
If the Soviets continued to drive up along the western flank through the wadis there, they would have to contend with Charlie Company's dismounted infantry and face closein combat with the Bradleys' 25mm chain gun. If they went in the center, everyone would be able to fire on them. If the Soviets skirted the east, the tanks of both Team Bravo and Alpha Company would be able to deal with them, while Charlie Company's Bradleys on the west flank would have good TOW shots from across the valley.
Once the Soviets were committed, the battalion command
er would have the artillery fire two scatter able mine fields, one in front of and one on top of the Soviets' column. While there was no doubt that the Soviets knew where the antitank ditch and mine field were, there was no way they could predict where and when the scatter able mines would go. If they were fired in conjunction with normal indirect artillery and mortar fire, direct fire from the tanks and the Bradleys and, if available, close air support from A-10s, the cumulative effect would be devastating.
Relentlessly the Soviets came on. Capell's scouts maintained a steady flow of reports on the Soviets' progress and actions. By the time the Soviet lead battalion deployed into lines with one company forward and others following the first, it had lost over ten vehicles to artillery and was having difficulty maintaining alignment. Capell's scout platoon and the tank platoon with them withdrew to either side of the advancing battalion without firing. Their primary mission, screening and reporting while the rest of the battalion deployed, had been accomplished. They would remain on the flanks and continue to report as Soviet follow-on battalions came into the fight.
Only when absolutely necessary would the scouts engage.
This bothered Capell. From the eastern flank he watched the Soviets moving south. His Bradley was hidden with only the turret exposed aboveground. His gunner, with the TOW launcher up and locked, was slowly tracking one of the Soviet tanks. It was a T-80 traveling by itself behind the first line of tanks and BRT-60 armored personnel carriers. It had to be the tank-company commander. For the next few seconds Capell debated whether he should ignore the order not to engage. It won't make a difference, he told himself. Who the hell's going to know?
A report from one of his section leaders broke his train of thought.
The second-echelon battalion was in sight, five kilometers behind the trail element of the first Soviet battalion. The report broke Capell's fixation on the T-80 they had been tracking and forced him to go back to his assigned tasks: observe and report.
The Soviets continued forward. Their orientation remained focused on the far-western side of the battalion sector. They were obviously headed there in an effort to skirt the antitank ditch and mine field.
