by Harold Coyle
Pulling his head back into his track, Salatinni nodded to his sergeant seated at the TACFIRE console. A simple "Send it" was all he needed to say to initiate the fire mission.
At the fire direction center of the 1st of the 66th Field Artillery battalion, the TACFIRE printed up the mission, giving the target location, a description of the target, recommendation as to the type of ammunition to be used and number of rounds to be fired, and which of the battalion's three batteries was to fire the mission. The officer on duty reviewed the information and recommendations. Deciding to accept the TACFIRE's recommendations, he hit a button that sent the necessary data to the battery it had selected to fire the mission.
Seven kilometers away from the battalion fire direction center, Battery B, 1st of the 66th Field Artillery, received the fire mission. The same data that had been displayed at battalion was displayed at Battery B. The executive officer of Battery B saw no need to change the orders to engage an enemy command post as a point target with two volleys of dual purpose improved conventional ammunition. Like the officers on duty at the other command posts, he accepted the mission and computer recommendations by simply hitting a button. Electronically, the battery's computer sent out the elevation and azimuth needed by each gun, information that it had already calculated and had ready.
Even at the guns, computers were standing by ready to work.
Upon receiving the elevation and azimuth from the battery's TACFIRE computer, the guns' own computers processed that information and translated it into action. Each gun commander ordered up the appropriate round of ammunition to be fired by reading it off of the computer's display. As the ammo bearers prepared and then passed the rounds to an assistant gunner who loaded the round, the gunner checked about the gun to ensure there was nothing in the turret of the M-109A5 howitzer that would get in the way when he fired. When the round and propellant were loaded and everyone was clear of the gun, the gunner hit the button that fed the elevation and azimuth into the howitzer's gun-turret drive. With quick, smooth movements, each of the eight guns of Battery B was laid on target. When all guns reported in that they were ready, the battery executive officer gave the order to commence firing.
The impact of those rounds across the river from Company C's position caught Kozak's attention, but she didn't bother herself with wondering who had fired them and what they had hit. As far as she was concerned, at that moment that artillery barrage wasn't important to her fight. Kozak had no idea how much the field artillery in her support had already begun shifting the odds of success back into her favor. In a span of minutes, before the first Ukrainian BMP had left its concealed position to commence the assault, the Ukrainians had lost their ability to bring indirect fire against her company. Equally important, the commander and much of his battle staff were also out of action. Although the initial American artillery fire missions had not touched any of the Ukrainian assault elements, when those elements came they would be without artillery support and would have no command and control element capable of directing the battle.
What was important to Kozak at that moment was the report that there were enemy tanks on her left flank taking her 1st Platoon under fire. There was also activity reported by her 2nd Platoon on the right. Kozak knew that there were enemy vehicles on both her flanks. Reports before the enemy attack of noise and numerous thermal hot spots in the woods across the river had alerted her to that. What she didn't know yet was whether the Ukrainians were trying to make a demonstration on one flank in order to keep her from shifting forces before the battle to the flank where the main attack was coming, or if they intended to hit both flanks with an attack.
From her position, Kozak could see the flashes of fire as enemy tanks on her left fired into the wood line where her 1st Platoon was located. Initial reports from Second Lieutenant Sylvester Ahern, platoon leader of that platoon, indicated that the Ukrainian tank fire was inaccurate and ineffective. They were, Kozak thought, firing blind. To her right, where the other enemy concentration had been reported, there was nothing. The platoon leader of her 2nd Platoon, Second Lieutenant Marc Gross, reported that while his dismounted infantry near the river line could hear numerous vehicles cranking up, they had no visual sightings yet and were not under fire. Although she didn't want to commit yet, Kozak was convinced in her heart that the action on the left was the demonstration and that the main attack would fall on her 2nd Platoon. Keying the radio, she ordered Ellerbee to stand by and be prepared to shift his entire platoon to the right in support of 2nd Platoon or as a counterattack.
When Ellerbee acknowledged, Kozak didn't bother to wonder why his radio transmission was so weak even though his tank was only thirty meters away. Instead, Kozak yelled to her crew, "Okay, gang. Show time. We're going over to 2nd Platoon."
Wolf, expecting that order, was going to make a comment, but didn't. Somehow, the gravity of the moment and the sudden welling of tension that one feels before entering battle made humor and glib remarks seem inappropriate. So Wolf, like the rest of C60's crew, remained silent as they responded to Kozak's orders and prepared to engage the enemy. Pulling back away from their position under Kozak's direction, Tish maneuvered C60 through the woods and down to where 2nd Platoon's dismounted infantry waited.
CHAPTER 5
7 JANUARY
When the first wave of Ukrainian BMP infantry fighting vehicles broke from their cover and began to rush down to the riverbank, Lieutenant Marc Gross and his 2nd Platoon were ready. From his position with the dismounted element of his platoon just inside the wood line along the river, the moonlight and shadows made the Ukrainian infantry fighting vehicles look more like crocodiles slipping into the water than fighting machines. He would wait, he decided, until they were in the water before he gave the order to fire.
Word that the attack had commenced caught C60 still halfway between Ellerbee's and Gross's position. Doing the best she could to steady herself in the open hatch of her Bradley as it bucked and bumped down the forest trail to the river's edge, Kozak began to issue orders to her company. After acknowledging Gross's initial report, she ordered her executive officer, First Lieutenant Patrick Goldak, to pass that report on to battalion. When Goldak acknowledged, Kozak called her fire support officer, Second Lieutenant Eugene Fong. She instructed him to request that the final protective fires plotted in front of 2nd Platoon, together with another mission into an area where they suspected the enemy tanks would be supporting the crossing, be fired immediately. When he gave her a "Roger. Out," Kozak called Ellerbee. Knowing that the bulk of his platoon could not engage the enemy vehicles from where he was, she ordered him to flex his platoon to the right, into 2nd Platoon's area as planned. Ellerbee, unlike the others, did not immediately respond. Repeating her orders to Ellerbee, Kozak finally got a response from Ellerbee's platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Rourk. Although she had no idea why Ellerbee had not responded himself, Kozak let the matter drop. As a final check, Kozak radioed Lieutenant Ahern to make sure that there was not an attack developing to the front of 1st Platoon. Ahern confirmed Kozak's assumption, reporting that enemy tank fire was continuing but that he saw no sign of an assault developing where he was.
Finished with her orders, Kozak looked about her to ensure that Tish was still headed in the right direction, then called back to Gross requesting an update on his engagement. His response was quick and short.
"CHARLIE SIX, THIS IS TWO SIX. WE HAVE TWO ZERO PLUS BMPS IN THE WATER. WE ARE ENGAGING NOW. OVER." As if on cue, Kozak heard a series of muffled bangs over the roar of C60's engine as Gross's platoon fired their first volley of anti-tank rockets and TOW wire-guided anti-tank missiles.
Though they had anticipated some return fire during their assault, the rocket and missile fire startled most of the commanders of the assaulting BMP infantry fighting vehicles. Here and there, a BMP swerved a little to the right or left or slowed down slightly as the drivers also reacted to being taken under fire. Recovering their own composure, the commanders of the erring
vehicles issued sharp reprimands to their drivers before turning to search for the source of the enemy fires.
As his BMP infantry fighting vehicle approached the river, the Ukrainian commander of the assaulting battalion was momentarily taken aback by the volume of enemy fire that had lit up the northern riverbank. He had been told by his brigade commander that they were being opposed by a single armored cavalry platoon equipped with tanks. The telltale signatures of rockets and anti-tank missiles coming from the wood line and high ground beyond told him different. Grabbing his radio hand mike, he called to inform his brigade commander of the true situation and request immediate artillery support. There was, however, no response to his calls. Neither his brigade commander nor his operations officer answered. Giving up, he tried to call the artillery support officer at brigade. That effort too met with failure. In frustration, he turned to his own artillery support officer and ordered him to contact the supporting artillery battalion and tell them to shift their fires to his front. Having anticipated that order, the artillery officer looked up at his commander and reported that he was having no luck at contacting the artillery battalion or its firing batteries.
In frustration, the battalion commander cursed, turning back to see how the two companies of his first assault echelon were doing. His eyes were greeted by the vision of burning vehicles, some still in the river, sinking or lazily turning around and around as they drifted downstream, out of control. Most of the first assault wave, however, had already reached the far shore and were beginning to pull themselves out of the water. With nothing further to be gained from staying where he was, the battalion commander ordered his driver to move out and join the second assault echelon, consisting of one company of infantry fighting vehicles, which were just beginning to emerge from their hide positions and head down to the river. With a little luck and some pushing, they could still succeed.
When the enemy infantry fighting vehicles reached the north bank of the river, they broke into two groups. One group moved straight for the woods where Gross and his dismounts were. A second group of eight vehicles to the left charged into a gap in the woods that led to the high ground where Gross's platoon sergeant was located with the platoon's Bradleys. Unable to control both fights, Gross concentrated on the group entering the woods while leaving his platoon sergeant to deal with the others running through the gap.
Though the dismounted infantry with Gross had managed to stop two of the assaulting BMP infantry fighting vehicles while they were in the river with their first volley of anti-tank fire and three more BMPs at the riverbank as they were pulling themselves out of the river, that still left seven Ukrainian BMP infantry fighting vehicles bearing down on the dismounted infantry of 2nd Platoon. Within seconds of reaching the riverbank, those seven BMPs were up, out, and right into the middle of the platoon's position. From firing ports along the sides and in the rear of the BMP infantry fighting vehicles, the Ukrainian infantry squads inside the BMPs opened fire as the BMPs entered the woods where the American positions were. Together with the fire from the mounted infantry, a 30mm cannon, and a 7.62mm machine gun mounted in its turret, each BMP laid down fire that began to have a telling effect on 2nd Platoon.
While the Ukrainian fire was wild and blind, its sheer volume, along with the chaos created when the BMPs themselves came tearing through their positions, was more than enough to break up 2nd Platoon's ability to offer organized resistance. For several terrifying seconds each of the dismounted infantrymen with Gross, as well as Gross himself, was on his own. The noise and confusion created by the appearance of the large steel fighting vehicles crashing through the woods only inches away, while spewing fire from every direction, was terrifying. For several critical seconds, each man and woman had to decide for himself whether to stay put, doing nothing while the Ukrainian BMPs passed, fight the BMPs as best they could, or flee.
To his left, Gross heard a piercing scream. To his right, someone was yelling for a medic. The shouts of squad leaders were punctured or cut short by the noise of gunfire and the grinding engines of enemy vehicles as they crashed their way through the woods. His platoon was taking casualties, and at that moment there was nothing that he could do to stop the enemy or help his people who were in trouble. Suddenly the real problems of being a combat leader hit home. For several critical seconds Gross would have to trust that his squad leaders and every individual rifleman in those woods would continue to perform their assigned duties while ignoring the pain and suffering of their friends and comrades. In those seconds, with enemy vehicles everywhere, there was nothing that Gross or the infantry squad leaders in the woods with him could do to control the people under their command. If he failed to keep his head and suppress his own fear and panic, or the discipline and cohesion of the unit failed, the platoon would fall apart and cease to be a fighting unit. If his nerve and the cohesion of his platoon held, then Gross and his sergeants had a chance to reorganize the platoon after the BMPs had passed and continue to resist. Jumping out of the path of a BMP that rolled on past him like a rogue elephant, Gross prayed that, one, he survived the next ten seconds, and two, he found something left to command at the end of those ten seconds.
The problem facing Ellerbee at that moment was, for him, equally distressing, though not nearly as hazardous. When he heard Kozak's order to flex his platoon to the right, Ellerbee yelled down to his driver to crank it up and prepare to move out. Turning off his radio during the starting sequence, Ellerbee held his hand on the radio's on-off switch while he waited for the sound of the engine turning over. When Wilk, his driver, hit the starter button, however, the only sound they heard was a clunk as the lights in the turret all but died out. "JESUS, LIEUTENANT! THE BATTERIES ARE DEAD!"
Startled by that announcement, Ellerbee let go of the radio's on-off switch, leaned down, and yelled, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE BATTERIES ARE DEAD?"
"THEY'RE DEAD! DRAINED! NO POWER TO START THE TANK. WE NEED A SLAVE."
While Ellerbee sat there dumbfounded, Tinker Shildon turned around in the gunner's seat, faced Ellerbee, and began to pull his crewman's helmet off. "There's a slave cable on Rourk's tank. I'll go get it." Though his voice wasn't excited, Shildon was up and out of his seat in a flash. Squeezing past Ellerbee, the breech block of the 120mm main gun, and the loader, Shildon didn't stop until he was halfway out of the loader's hatch. Then his voice betrayed his shock and surprise. "WHERE IN THE HELL ARE THEY GOING?"
Shildon's comment threw Ellerbee. As he scrambled in an effort to get his head up and out of his hatch to see what Shildon was yelling about, Ellerbee yelled, "WHO? WHERE'S WHO GOING?"
"Sergeant Rourk and the rest of the platoon. They're moving out!"
Like a floating toy held under water in a bathtub and suddenly released, Ellerbee popped up and looked about just in time to see the taillights of Rourk's tank and his wing man disappear in the woods to their right. Instinctively Ellerbee reached up and keyed the push-to-talk lever on the side of his crewman's helmet to activate the radio. When nothing happened, he suddenly remembered that he had switched the radio off and had failed to turn it back on in the confusion following Wilk's announcement that they had no power. Just as he was prepared to drop down and turn the radio on, Ellerbee saw his own wing man's tank, A32, go screaming right behind him. Jumping back up, Ellerbee pointed at A32 and yelled to Shildon, "STOP HIM, TINKER. STOP HIM."
Pushing himself up and out of the loader's hatch, Shildon scrambled to the edge of the turret roof, climbed over the crew's personal gear stored in the bustle rack at the rear of the turret, hit the back deck with both feet, and took a flying leap onto the frozen ground, yelling at the top of his lungs as he did so. His efforts, however, were for nought. By the time he got up and began chasing A32, that tank, like Rourk's and his wing man's, was gone, swallowed up by the dark woods. Stopping, Shildon looked at the woods where A32 had disappeared, then back at the dark form of Ellerbee, who was hanging halfway out of his hatch. In the distance, both Shildon and Ellerbee could h
ear the battle at the riverbank.
Remembering that the engineer platoon was down the road a few hundred meters, Ellerbee yelled over to Shildon, "TINKER. Go down the road. Find the engineers at that farmhouse and see if they have someone who can come up and give us a jump start."
Looking through the woods toward the road, Shildon paused for a moment as he considered going back to the tank for his field jacket and helmet. A series of explosions from 2nd Platoon's positions and the thunk-thunk-thunk of 25mm cannons firing told him he didn't have time for that. Turning, he began to run. As he had before, Ellerbee sat there and watched Shildon disappear into the darkness, like the other tanks in his platoon had. Bad luck, he thought, piled on top of more bad luck, had left him and his disabled tank on the hill while Gross and the infantrymen in his platoon fought for their lives. Pounding his fist on the edge of his open hatch, Ellerbee began cursing out loud at Kozak and the incredible bad luck that had brought him to this spot.
No one in 2nd Platoon, or Kozak, realized that Ellerbee was out of the fight. Even Rourk, who had acknowledged Kozak's order and had passed it on to the platoon, had no idea what had happened to his platoon leader. What he did know was that the infantry was in trouble and that his platoon leader had failed to respond. Assuming that his lieutenant was too busy trying to get himself and his tank ready to move, and that he would follow when he could, Rourk took over the platoon and moved out in response to Kozak's order. There would be time later, if they won, to listen to Ellerbee's excuses. Right now, all Rourk knew was that the grunts were in deep shit and needed help.
Clear of the river and in the woods, the commander of the Ukrainian company that was overrunning Gross's dismounted infantry had three simple choices and not much time in which to make his decision. He could stop in the middle of the American position in the woods, dismount his own infantry, and try to wipe out the enemy. Since he really didn't know how many of his BMPs had made it, and his own company was as disoriented and confused at that moment as the enemy they were overrunning, he quickly decided against that. His next option was to move out of the woods and stop there. By doing so, his company would be clear of the enemy positions and in the open. The Ukrainian commander would then have time to dismount and organize his own command before going back into the woods to clear out the enemy. That, however, didn't seem like a good idea, since there had been reports of enemy tanks in the area. They, he thought, might be on the high ground, ready to engage his company as soon as it emerged from the woods. To stop there would only make the job of the enemy tanks easier. The final option available to him, as the Ukrainian commander saw it, was to forget about the Americans in the woods by the river line and just keep advancing toward the high ground. There, in the woods overlooking the bridge and open areas near the riverbank, he could deploy his company and cover the engineers as they put their bridge across the damaged highway bridge. Once that bridge was in place, the two tank battalions of the brigade would be able to cross over and join him. Then they could deal with the enemy tanks. That, he decided, would be the most advantageous decision for his company and the entire brigade.
