by Harold Coyle
There were few men with the company that day who had jumped into Tabriz on 25 May.
Replacements and men from units that had been disbanded may have brought the company up to full strength, but did not make a coherent, combat-capable unit. The new officers and men did not know one another or the old members of the company. The trust and confidence between leaders and those they led that resulted from countless hours of training were missing. The men new to the unit knew the basics of soldiering but had never worked together. Simple combat drills that used to be easily executed by Ilvanich's old platoon required twice the time to perform and all of Lieutenant Malovidov's efforts to make happen simply because they had not had enough time to practice.
Once the drop zone was clear and all the strays had been rounded up, Ilvanich paused to consider his next action. He pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his face as he surveyed the eerie scene before him.
Discarded parachutes and cylindrical equipment containers littered the drop zone. The brightly burning wreckage of two transports were visible in the distance.
The thought that the company's BMD personnel carriers were aboard them did nothing to brighten an already dark situation. Without them the paratroopers had little chance of forming an effective strongpoint astride the Americans' main supply route. Any combat unit that had tanks would have no problem blowing through them anytime they wanted.
Around the drop zone he could see the heads of paratroopers pop up as they checked out their sector from the prone position. Well, we are as ready as we are ever going to be, he thought. Time to get out of here.
From out of the darkness Malovidov came running up, hunched over, carrying his AK assault rifle at the ready. Panting, he reported to Ilvanich. "All men are accounted for. Both of the other platoons report the same. We are ready to move out." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, yes, Captain Lvov has been found. He has a broken ankle. He is with 2nd Platoon right now and wishes to see you immediately."
Ilvanich didn't turn or look at the junior lieutenant. He stood there and pulled out his canteen, unscrewed the cap and took a short swallow of water. Finished, he turned to Malovidov. "I suppose it is time to go see our commander. Lead off, Comrade."
With that, Malovidov turned and began to run off at a trot, crouched over, until he noticed that Ilvanich was following at a walk, standing erect.
Malovidov stopped, straightened up and waited for the senior lieutenant.
When they reached Lvov, he was lying on the ground and seemed to be embarrassed. Ilvanich saluted and reported, then stood with one hand on his hip and the other resting on the AK that dangled from his right shoulder while his commander babbled about how he had hit the ground wrong and had to crawl over to where the company had rallied. As he listened, Ilvanich thought, So, you can't run away this time, you worthless bastard. Now I get the chance to see what a good Party man is made of.
His thoughts and Lvov's story were interrupted by a radioman who came up to Ilvanich and, out of habit, handed the radio mike to him, saying that the battalion commander wanted to speak to the commander. Without thinking, Ilvanich took the mike, pressed the transmit button and began to speak, then stopped. Lvov was staring at him. Their eyes met. Without apology, Ilvanich held out the mike to his commander and said he had forgotten that the captain was with them. He intentionally held the mike several inches beyond Lvov's reach, forcing the captain to prop himself up and stretch to get it. When he had it, Ilvanich stepped back, saluted and told his commander he would prepare the company to move out. He did not wait for a return salute, which he knew he would not get, or permission to leave, which he didn't care whether he got or not. He simply pivoted and walked off, feeling Lvov's eyes burning their way through his back as he went into the gathering dawn.
Bandar Abbas 0935 Hours, 1 August (0605 Hours, 1 August, GMT)
Duncan marched down the line, checking weapons, equipment and the men.
In the background dozens of Blackhawk helicopters were going through preflight checks and coming to life. How different, he thought as he compared the fully armed, well-equipped, well-fed soldiers before him and what he and his platoon had been like while they were escaping from Rafsanjan. Most of the men in his platoon were new to him, the result of amalgamating bits and pieces of other units.
The remnants of the units of the 12th Infantry Division had been merged into a single brigade. Though many were strangers, most of the men had three things in common. First, they had all had experiences similar to those Duncan and his men had gone through. As a result, the second thing they shared was a burning desire to avenge their friends and the honor of their unit. Finally, they were all fully trained and competent combat infantrymen.
Duncan and his lieutenant, a man who had fought at Pariz and Sa'idabad, drove their platoon hard in the short time they had been given to prepare for combat. No one complained. No one asked why. They knew.
They had seen the face of battle and knew it well. The only problem that Duncan had to deal with was impatience. They were ready to go, now. They were all impatient to wreak vengeance on an enemy that had once seemed unstoppable.
Shortly after stand-to that morning, word came down that they were about to be given their opportunity. Duncan could barely contain his excitement as the platoon leader briefed them on their mission. They were going to deploy north by helicopter to contain and destroy a Soviet airborne unit that had been dropped a few hours before in the vicinity of Qotbabad. The lieutenant told them that the airhead straddled the main supply route to the north and had to be eliminated.
He had accentuated the word "eliminated." When he had finished, he asked Duncan whether he had anything to add.
From the rear of the platoon, Duncan commented, "Well, I can't think of a better way to start the day. You people know the drill. Precombat inspection in twenty minutes. Now hit it."
There was no need to repeat the command. His men scattered to draw extra ammo, fill canteens and grab their rucksacks.
Five Kilometers North of Hajiabad, Iran 1245 Hours, 1 August (0915 Hours, 1 August, GMT)
Throughout the morning the units of the U.S. 2nd Brigade monitored the progress of the battle between the lead Soviet motorized rifle division and the armored cavalry regiment. Once the main Soviet effort had been identified, the corps piled on with everything it could. Working in conjunction with one another, attack helicopters, artillery and Air Force close air support hammered exposed Soviet formations. Artillery, firing counter battery fires, reduced the responsiveness and effectiveness of Soviet artillery. The ground units of the cavalry regiment in front of the attacking Soviet regiments gave way grudgingly, moving back one step at a time, maintaining contact and exacting a toll from the enemy. While the cavalry's victory cost them dearly, by the time they were ready to pass the battle off to the 2nd Brigade the Soviet first-echelon motorized rifle division was incapable of further offensive operations.
The battle moving toward the 3rd of the 4th Armor was well defined.
Reports from the cavalry regiment, intelligence gained from electronic-warfare units and in-flight reports from Air Force pilots returning from strikes against the Soviets provided a clear picture of what was coming. That, some say, is half the battle. Now all the 3rd of the 4th had to do was destroy the enemy.
The Soviets also had their intelligence units gathering information.
They knew what they were getting into and had a plan for dealing with it. MI-28 Havoc attack helicopters moved in advance of the attacking ground formations, seeking targets. Artillery units began to move forward in preparation for the attack in the main battle area. Electronic-warfare units swept through the FM radio spectrum searching for active frequencies, jamming, listening or directing artillery against the transmitter. With grim determination, the second-echelon motorized rifle division moved forward through the shattered remains of the first-echelon division and continued the attack.
The command net of the 3rd of the 4th A
rmor came alive with reports from the scout platoon. The Soviets were coming forward with two battalions deployed abreast. No doubt there was a third battalion close behind, the second-echelon battalion of the motorized rifle regiment. As with the battle of 9 July, the scouts began to call for artillery against the advancing enemy. The Soviets' artillery joined the fray, striking at suspected locations in advance of their attacking formations and laying down a smokescreen to cover the move of the motorized rifle battalions and confuse the Americans. Unlike the 9 July battle, Soviet jamming and artillery fire appeared to be quite effective.
From his position, Major Dixon watched intently as the Soviets began to close on the first line of barriers. The defending battalion was deployed in a wide valley in the shape of a large W. Each of the companies formed a leg of the W and faced into one of two kill zones, while the scout platoon sat on a small hill at the center tip of the W. Team Alpha, which was tank heavy with one mech and two tank platoons, along with Team Charlie, mech heavy with one tank and two mech platoons, covered the western V of the W. Team Bravo, tank heavy, along with Team Delta, mech heavy, covered the eastern V of the W. If needed, one of the company teams in the center could swing in the opposite direction to assist its sister unit. The tank-heavy company teams on either flank could be used to counterattack if needed.
The leaders of the battalion had positioned themselves where they could control a portion of the battle. The battalion commander was with Team Delta in the east. Dixon was with Team Alpha in the west. The battalion XO was at the battalion TOC, where he would monitor the battle, ensure that reports were being submitted to Brigade, orchestrate fire support, request assistance from Brigade as required and be ready to assume command of the battalion if necessary.
Everyone assumed that the Soviets would send one of the lead battalions on either side of the hill where the scouts were located. Otherwise they would have to close up and go through the kill zones literally hub to hub. Two American companies working together would be more than enough to deal with a single motorized rifle battalion coming at them one at a time.
All seemed to be in order and progressing as the leadership of the 3rd of the 4th Armor had projected until the Soviets were three kilometers from the scout platoon's positions. For a moment, all Soviet artillery fire ceased. This was no surprise. It was assumed that it was being shifted to the next line of targets in advance of the oncoming attack.
In the distance, all Dixon could see was smoke settling in the low areas. From where his tank sat he would be unable to see the Soviets until they entered the hollow of the V being covered by Alpha and Charlie. The battalion commander, on the other side of the battalion's sector, could see only the engagement zones to his immediate front.
Only the scouts were able to see the enemy.
The resumption of artillery was sudden and shocking. The hill where the scouts were located was smothered with fire and dirty columns of sand, rock and smoke thrown up by explosions. To the east, Team Delta's positions were also enveloped by a massive artillery strike.
Multiple-rocket launchers, Dixon thought. Either they know exactly where we are or they're damned lucky. As he watched the artillery continue to churn up the hill in the center and Team Delta's positions, he waited for reports. Nothing came over the net. Nothing to report yet. He waited.
Only slowly did it dawn upon Dixon that something was not right. He looked at his map at the point where he had marked the Soviets' last reported position. Making some quick calculations, he realized that if they had continued to advance at the same pace, the lead Soviet elements would be at the first antitank ditch. Yet there had been no reports. Even Team Bravo, which was not under fire, had not reported.
The crack of tank fire and the putt putt-putt of 25mm. cannon fire drifted over from the east. The two companies in the east were in contact! Dixon keyed the net to call the company commander of Team Bravo. "Echo Six-zero-this is Tango Two-two. What is your status? Over." There was no response. Dixon repeated the message.
"Echo Six-zero-this is Tango Twotwo. What is your status? Over."
Still no answer. He looked down and checked his radio. It appeared to be working. The firing increased in intensity. From where he was, Dixon could see nothing. Next he called 'the battalion XO at the TOC.
"Tango Five-eight-this is Tango Two-two. Do you have contact with Echo Six-zero? Over." He waited. There was no response. Dixon panicked. He yelled to the loader to switch the squelch setting of the radio to the off position.
Watching the loader do so, he listened for the rushing noise that should have come from the radio. Even with the squelch off, there was no noise.
"Shit! Wilard, disconnect the antenna from the radio."
The loader looked at the major with a weird look, but complied. Once the antenna was disconnected, the squelch he should have heard before blared in his ear. The Soviets were using silent jamming on the battalion radio net, effectively blocking all communications without the people on the net knowing.
Dixon ordered the loader to reconnect the antenna. Turning to his remote box at his station, Dixon changed the radio frequency to the Team Bravo command net. The radio suddenly sprang to life as Dixon heard platoon leaders reporting status and enemy progress to the Team Bravo commander. He listened for a moment. From the reports, he gathered that the Soviets were moving past Team Bravos positions, headed south. Dixon keyed the radio and called the Team Bravo commander. "Kilo Sixzero-this is Tango Two-two on your net. What is your status? Over."
The Team Bravo commander, in a fast and very excited voice, responded, "This is Kilo Six-zero. The better part of one battalion is currently passing right in front of us. Break. We're beating the shit out of him, but they keep rolling south. Break. I have negative contact with Tango Six-zero or Echo Six-zero. I think they've been overrun. Over."
That meant the battalion commander was probably gone. Dixon stood up in the turret and looked to the east. He could see nothing. He traversed the turret in that direction and looked through the thermal sight. At a range of four thousand meters he could make out the images of tracked vehicles headed south. The Soviets had broken through.
Going back to the Team Bravo commander, he ordered him to use the alternate battalion command frequency, since the primary was jammed.
That done, he switched to the brigade-command frequency and contacted the battalion XO at the battalion TOC. He told him that the primary battalion frequency was being jammed, that Team Delta appeared to have been overrun and the Soviets were coming through. The XO told Dixon that he would have the TOC get everyone on the alternate frequency as soon as possible.
One at a time the units reported in, all except for Team Delta and the battalion commander. As soon as the battalion XO was on the net, Dixon had all units report their status. Neither team in the west with Dixon had been hit. At the last minute both Soviet battalions had gone into the eastern side of the W. Odds were that Team Delta had been overrun.
Referring to his map that showed the graphics depicting the battalion's battle plan, Dixon recommended that both Alpha and Charlie counterattack from the west into the Soviets' flank while Team Bravo held in place. In the meantime, the XO at the TOC should get everything he could from Brigade to hit the Soviet forces that had broken through. With little time to think and no time to discuss the matter, the XO ordered Dixon to lead the counterattack. The XO would do his best to get everything Brigade would shake loose.
While the XO was coordinating for air strikes and attack helicopters on the brigade-command net, Dixon issued his orders over the battalion-command net. They would attack to the east, with both teams forming a wedge. Team Charlie would be in the north and Team Alpha in the south. Dixon would position himself in the center. When formed, the two companies would drive south of Team Bravo's positions and head for Team Delta's old positions.
Once there, the two attacking teams would swing to face the north and the follow-on Soviet forces. Someone else would have to take care of the Soviet
forces that had already broken through.
Dixon ordered his driver to back out of the position and waited until Team Alpha began to move past, then ordered the driver to follow the company commander's tank. As they moved into the valley, Dixon monitored Team Bravo's reports to the battalion TOC. One at a time Team Bravo was losing its vehicles. What effect they were having on the Soviets was not known.
Whatever it was, it was insufficient to stop their movement south. A garbled and incomplete report from the mortar-platoon leader alerted the battalion XO to the fact that that platoon was being overrun.
Attempts to regain contact with the mortar-platoon leader were cut short by the battalion forward air controller, who announced that friendly air was en route and would be on station in five minutes. The XO responded to this call, but his directions were cut short. Repeated attempts to regain contact with the XO or the TOC by Dixon and the Team Bravo commander failed. Absorbed in that effort, Dixon did not become aware until several minutes later that the counterattack was going astray.
What should have been a simple maneuver was not. As the teams moved into the valley that formed the western base of the W, they became intermingled.
Team Charlie, wanting to avoid Team Bravo, came too far south before turning east. Team Alpha, cutting straight across the valley, ran head on into Team Charlie while it was still moving south. This situation was made worse by the fact that drivers in both the M-1 and the Bradley did not have thermal sights. The smoke lingering in the low areas they drove through made navigation and maintaining position difficult.
Command and control were lost by Dixon and the team commanders. Then the quick death of the Team Alpha commander by an unknown assailant destroyed all hope of sorting that unit out. The counterattack rapidly degenerated into a cluster as tanks and Bradleys groped about in the smoke, searching for the enemy and the objective. Both were eventually found, but not in the manner that Dixon intended.
