by Harold Coyle
Within forty hours of commencing an attack that had been so well planned and prepared, the commander of the 17th Combined Arms Army found himself facing the same problems and grasping for the same solutions that the former commander of the 28th Combined Arms Army had faced. The waste of men and equipment was appalling Two motorized rifle divisions were totally combat ineffective, reduced to less than 40 percent strength. The other two had sustained heavy losses in exchange for little gain and no clean breakthrough. Even the two tank divisions, held back to exploit the projected break through, had suffered from American heavy bombers and attack helicopters. Faced with the prospect of losing the initiative and whatever advantages had been gained from the efforts of the motorized rifle divisions, the leadership of the 17th CAA decided to commit the two tank divisions As a hedge against possible problems, they also requested permission to use chemical weapons.
The order that committed the 68th Tank Regiment to an attack beginning at 2130 hours on 2 August was received by the staff with an air of indifference. They had been through the drill many times before. The process and procedures needed to move the unit were almost rote.
Major Vorishnov noted the lack of enthusiasm with which the commanders and the staff of the battalion conducted their preparation. Even he found it difficult to muster the necessary motivation.
Reports coming down from Regiment were less than favorable and revealed a situation ominously similar to what had prevailed during the failed attack in July. The 68th Tank Regiment was to be committed into a situation that was, at best, ambiguous. The attacking motorized rifle division that the regiment was to pass through was no longer capable of offensive action. It had punched a small gap through the enemy's main defensive belt but had been chewed up by incessant counterattacks and air attacks. Unable to penetrate any farther on its own, the division had faltered, stopped and finally held. To expedite the passage of the tank regiment through the stalled unit and steer it past pockets of enemy resistance, the recon battalion of that motorized rifle division would lead the tank regiment through the gap that had been created.
Vorishnov's mind began to wander as he sat and listened to the second officer present the assembled commanders the current enemy situation in the zone in which the regiment would attack. How many times, he thought, can we tempt death before it consumes us? Perhaps we will succeed this time.
Perhaps we will perish. The differences between success and failure were no longer clear to Vorishnov. The fact that he was willing to accept either worried him.
Five Kilometers North of Tarom, Iran 2120 Hours, 2 August (1750 Hours, 2 August, GMT)
Ed Lewis paced back and forth in the battalion TOC, from the situation map hung from the TOC extensions at one end of the work area to the rear of the M-577 command-post carrier and back again. Master Sergeant Ken Mayfree, sitting at a field desk, was monitoring the radios and recording a summary of all transmissions in a duty log. Although Lewis could listen to the same radio transmissions over remote speakers located near the map, he preferred to stand in front of Mayfree and listen there. The major's nervous restlessness was contagious and annoying. Finally, while Lewis was standing in front of him, Mayfree looked his major in the eye and whispered, "Ed, if you don't sit down and cool it, I'm gonna break your kneecaps. You're makin' me nervous."
Lewis looked at Mayfree with a blank look, mumbled an apology and went over to the situation map, where he sat down next to the speaker of the battalion radio net. He sat there for all of five minutes before he was up pacing again.
The 2nd Battalion of the 354th Mechanized Infantry had crossed the line of departure on time at 2100 hours as part of an attack to support the corps's main effort, also commencing at 2100 hours. The main attack, farther to the west, was being made by the 4th Armored Division and a British armored brigade. The 52nd Infantry Division, Mechanized, would follow. The 3rd Brigade's mission was to confuse the Soviets as to where the main effort was being delivered and pin as many enemy forces for as long as possible.
Since 2100 hours the only reports received at the TOC of the 2nd of the 354th had been that the line of departure had been crossed by the scout platoon, followed by the two lead companies. Either the enemy had withdrawn or they were sucking the battalion into a fire sack. While the unopposed progress was welcome, everyone knew that it would not and could not last.
The Soviets were out there, somewhere, waiting.
The battalion staff at the TOC was impatient. Every time the radio crackled to life, ears perked up and breath was held. Reports of negative contact did not bring sighs of relief, only heightened tension.
Until something happened, there was nothing for the people at the TOC to do.
Those staff officers with the command group, which was following the lead companies, were out there, moving forward, which at least gave them the sense of accomplishing something, doing something. The idle minds of the staff at the TOC, removed from the danger of battle, were fertile ground for nightmares and fear.
"Mike Four-four, this is Tango Three-two. Spot report. Over."
Lewis turned to the board where the radio call signs were posted. It was the scout-platoon leader calling the S-3.
Tango Three-two, this is Mike Four-four. Send it. Over." The in tell sergeant prepared to write the information down on a blank spot-report form. Lewis watched as Captain Norm Smithson, the assistant operations officer, stood near the map with grease pencil in hand, ready to mark the enemy locations sighted by the scouts.
"This is Tango Three-two. Six tanks moving south correction make that nine tanks moving south vicinity five two zero, seven seven five. They look like T-80s, but we cannot confirm. Continuing to observe. Over."
Lewis thought about that for a moment. Who else could they be? The thermal sights of the Bradley, great for seeing in the dark, did not always provide a good clear image. Vehicle recognition was, at times, difficult.
The battalion commander called Lewis. "Mike Sixeight, this is Mike One-six. Get with higher and find out if we have any friendlies stumblin' about in the dark to our front. Over."
Lewis acknowledged and picked up the hand mike for the brigade radio net.
He was about to make the call when the scout-platoon leader came back with another report:
"Mike Four-four, this is Tango Three-two. Update on that last spot report. Eighteen T-80 tanks-I say again, T-80 tanks-moving south. Lead element now at five two zero, seven seven zero. We are assuming hasty defense vicinity checkpoint zero eight and preparing to engage. Request artillery and permission to engage. Over."
All eyes in the TOC were on Smithson as he moved the plastic symbol that represented the battalion's scout platoon and placed it on the map where checkpoint 08 was located. The in tell sergeant took a red plastic armor-unit symbol imprinted with the number 18 and placed it where. the scout-platoon leader had reported the enemy formation. The fire-support officer, hearing the request for fire, was already on his radio, talking to the artillery unit supporting the battalion.
After a moment, the S-3 called back to the scout platoon leader,
"Tango Three-two. This is Mike Fourfour. Are you sure they're T-80s?"
The scout-platoon leader, without hesitation, replied, "Affirmative. If we wait another minute I can give you the bumper numbers of all twenty-five T-80 tanks."
Slightly disturbed by the wisecrack about the bumper numbers, the S-3 replied sharply, "Permission to engage. Break." Then, to Smithson, "Mike Nine-one, this is Mike Four-four. Get the red legs on that target. Report to higher we are deploying to engage an enemy tank battalion attacking south. I will keep you advised. Over."
The waiting was over. The tension and stress of waiting was replaced by a flurry of frantic activity in the TOC. Calls went out to the brigade S-2 over the in tell net, to the brigade S-3 over the brigade-command net and to artillery units. The S-3 began to issue orders to the company commanders over the battalion-command net, telling them where to deploy and how to orient their units. Lewis
watched and listened to all that was happening.
He made sure that all people who needed to be notified were and that the orders that were being put over the battalion command net by the S-3 were written down and accurately posted on the situation map in the TOC. There was much activity but no confusion. They had done this before. The procedures the staff were now going through were no different from those they had used when conducting command-post exercises back in Tennessee. The difference this time, however, was that there were now real people out there. Real bullets were going to be fired, and real people were going to die. It was Lewis' job to see that everything was done to ensure that it would be the Soviets who did most of the dying.
Through the darkness the 3rd Battalion rolled. Vorishnov was concerned about their lack of coordination and of intelligence about what was to their front. Reports of enemy activity had been received on and off for the last hour at the regiment from its own recon elements operating somewhere to the 3rd Battalion's front. Vorishnov had hoped to go forward during the day and coordinate with the commander of the recon unit they were supposed to follow. He had wanted to get a feel for the terrain the battalion would cross as well as some information on enemy unit locations and mine fields.
For security, however, additional recon had not been permitted. The division did not want to risk revealing when and where the tank regiments were going to be committed.
The failure in coordination now began to manifest itself. When the tank regiment reached the point where it was to link up with the recon battalion of the motorized rifle division, no one was there. Continued efforts to contact someone and effect a link-up failed. Falling behind schedule, the tank regiment was ordered forward without an escort.
Ignorant of exact locations of both friendly and enemy forces, the 3rd Battalion, 68th Tank Regiment, plunged into the night and hoped for the best.
The sudden flashes on the battalion's flank therefore came as a surprise.
In the darkness, they at first appeared to be artillery impacting at a distance. It took a moment for the tank commanders to grasp the true situation as flame from the rocket motors of antitank guided missiles closed on the battalion's tanks. The lead-company commander reported the missile attack while his tanks traversed their turrets in the direction of the oncoming missiles.
The impact of the missiles, the detonation of the reactive armor and, in two cases, secondary explosions lit up the night. Three more flashes from the opposite flank pulled everyone's attention in that direction. The battalion was in an ambush of some type. Instead of being greeted by the recon battalion of the forward motorized rifle division, it had run into the Americans. At least, Vorishnov hoped it was the Americans and not the recon battalion firing. How terrible, he thought, to have come all this way and be killed by our own people.
While the battalion commander issued orders to deploy into battle formation, Vorishnov reported the attack to Regiment. The regiment, tracking the battalion's progress, had concerns similar to Vorishnov's.
Regiment wanted confirmation that it was the Americans doing the firing.
Vorishnov replied that there was no time for that. Regardless of who they were, the battalion was attacking. The battle drill that it executed put into action the contact drill practiced many times by the battalion. The lead company deployed and turned to attack. The next company followed, ready to deploy and support the attack or bypass the lead company if it became too heavily involved. The third company also followed, ready to swing around and hit the enemy in the flank or the rear once the flanks were found. The battalion was committed.
Reports of the scout platoon's initial success were welcomed by all at the TOC. There had been a great deal of concern over the effectiveness of the Bradley's TOW missile against the T-80. Although not every hit was a kill, at least some Russians were dying. The scouts had the task of developing the situation as well as screening and buying time for the deployment of the remainder of the battalion. Lewis followed the orders being issued by the S-3 to the companies and watched as Smithson plotted the progress of the battalion. In another five minutes all the units would be in their assigned positions. The S-2 plotted the advance of the Soviets. The fire-support officer called out that artillery-fire missions were on the way.
Two of the battalion's own companies, reinforced with improved TOW vehicles, called ITVs, deployed on either side of the line of march they expected the Soviets to take. They formed a funnel that led into a tank company, a Kentucky National Guard unit, attached to the battalion. That company took up positions in the center, blocking the path of the onrushing Soviets. The fourth company of the battalion, held in the back of the center, stood ready to swing to either the left or the right, depending on how the Soviets reacted.
With nothing more to do for the moment, Lewis listened to the reports and watched Smithson and the S-2 plot the progress of the battle. The scouts continued to engage, drawing back slowly. Somehow the first report of a loss in the scout platoon passed unnoticed, until the number six listed as the number of operational Bradleys for the scouts was changed to a five.
It's begun, Lewis thought, the dying has begun. That the same thought had not occurred to him when the destruction of Soviet tanks had been reported was not unusual. After all, the scouts were killing tanks; the crews of the T-80 tanks had no faces, no names. The men in the scout Bradleys, however, were very real to Lewis. They were people who lived in Memphis with him.
They were the people he worked with, had gone to annual training with, dealt with on a daily basis. Sam Cane, a young teacher who taught Ed's youngest son, commanded one of the Bradleys in the scout platoon. Was Sam dead? Or was it Tim Wheaton, owner of the gas station just off the interstate exit, now a scout-squad leader? Was it his track that had been hit? The black grease-pencil figures on the chart next to the situation map translated into very real people. Real people whom Lewis knew.
Slowly the Soviets drew near. The scouts ceased fire and pulled away.
Now the companies, in their hasty defensive positions, began to report sighting the Soviets and their readiness to engage. The tension began to build again. Everyone waited, the silence broken only by the traffic over the artillery-fire-control net as artillery lieutenants with the companies requested fires and submitted corrections after observing the impact of adjustment rounds. All waited for the battle to be joined in earnest.
There was no doubt that the regiment had run into an American force of some size. The increasing tempo of artillery, and its accuracy, betrayed the fact that someone was watching and directing it upon the 3rd Battalion. Vorishnov, his head raised slightly out of the turret, saw no sign of more TOW-missile firings. That, however, was not comforting. It could only mean that the forward elements were finished and were pulling back to clear the way for the main body of the enemy force. Vorishnov wondered whether the Americans had been in defensive positions that were missed by the regimental recon or whether the battle developing was a bona fide meeting engagement in which the Americans now had the upper hand. The truth, however, did not matter at that moment. What did matter was that the battalion was again going into battle, regardless of how it had come about. Their orders were to find and fix the Americans. Once the situation had been developed, the tank battalion behind the 3rd would move to the left or the right to seek the Americans' flank. The quickest and most effective method of finding the enemy was to continue the attack. Once contact was reestablished, the battalion would turn and attack whoever did the firing.
The bright flash, the dazzling shower of sparks caused by the impact of a kinetic-energy round on a T-80, followed by the sharp crack of a tank cannon, told Vorishnov that they had found the enemy's main body. Just as the battalion began to reorient on the source of the tanks firing, it was hit by a wave of antitank guided missiles, artillery and artillery-delivered mines. In less than a minute, command and control vaporized as the attacking force was overwhelmed with superior firepower and with confusion.
Having
nothing left to control but his tank, Vorishnov joined the battle.
With his hatch buttoned up, he searched for a target. In his sight, the flash of an American tank firing caught his eye. "Target tank! Traverse left." The gunner turned his control handle and searched for the target.
Vorishnov saw it first. The green image of a tank's turret was protruding above a mound, its gun pointed in another direction. "Target twelve o'clock. Fire!"
The gunner now saw what his commander saw, Lined his sight on the center of the target, depressed the laser range-finder button and waited for the system to input the data. When he was ready, he announced, "Firing!" and pulled the trigger.
The T-80 rolled on, its sights continuing to track the tank they had just engaged. In the distance a brilliant light cut through the obscuration kicked up by the firing of the gun. Vorishnov watched as a ball of fire rose into the black sky, casting long shadows on everything around. The American tank was dead.
Without waiting for its crew, the T-80's automatic loader was already preparing for the next engagement. The gun jerked into the loading position, slamming the breech open with a bang. The mechanical arm reached down and scooped up the next projectile and guided it into the breech.
Finished, the arm reached down and scooped up the powder bag, ramming it home behind the projectile. As his gunner searched for targets, Vorishnov watched the loading of the main gun, careful to stay out of the mechanical arm's path. It's too slow, he thought, too terribly slow.
Targets were now plentiful. Less than four hundred meters to their front an American Bradley appeared out of nowhere. As Vorishnov prepared to engage, the reports of the follow-on battalion could be heard over the regimental command net. He was not concerned with those reports, however. The regimental battle was no longer his. His battle had degenerated to a one-on-one contest: his tank against whatever crossed its path.
"Mike Four-four, this is Oscar Six-eight. I have negative contact with my one six. I am assuming command. Over." The tank-company commander was dead.
