by Harold Coyle
Just as they came around a bend in the forest trail and caught sight of the 1st Platoon Bradley guarding the right flank, Kozak watched in horror as it was struck by a high-explosive anti-tank round fired by an unseen assailant. Because the back ramp was down, left open after the dismounted infantry had exited, much of the force of the explosion was vented out and in her direction. Still that didn't seem to make much difference to the Bradley's crew. Of the three men she suspected had been left to man the Bradley, only the driver popped up and out, leaping onto the ground and rolling across the trail as soon as he hit the ground. With no time to lose, Kozak pulled herself up, reaching for her rifle and gear as she went. "I'm going forward to find that squad of dismounts," she yelled to Wolf as she prepared to jump down. "Have Paden grab some LAWs and follow me. You get the Bradley into a good position here and cover the trail." Kozak didn't wait for Wolf to acknowledge. With a small hop she jumped down off her Bradley onto the soft floor of the forest. Even as she struggled to slip the straps of her web gear over her shoulders, Kozak was trotting forward to where she thought the dismounted infantry squad of the stricken Bradley would be.
Seeing a soldier hugging the ground for all he was worth, Kozak came up next to him and dropped to one knee. "Where's Sergeant Manning?"
Without a word the soldier pointed to his right. She glanced to her right, saw Manning, and then pushed herself up off the ground and headed for Manning. Behind Kozak, Specialist Pee Paden came running, carrying the AT-4 light anti-tank rockets Wolf had ordered him to grab. Called LAWs, the AT-4s were designed to be man-portable and disposable, each AT-4 LAW being a single round of ammunition. Paden, carrying three of them, first headed to where Kozak had stopped by the soldier for directions and then, seeing her shift to the right, changed directions to join her and. Manning.
Even before she reached him, Kozak called out. "Manning, what have you got?"
At first he said nothing. He didn't even look over at his company commander. He simply pointed east as he whispered, "Leopard, twenty, maybe thirty meters straight ahead."
Looking in the direction that Manning was pointing, Kozak listened for a second, then heard the deep throaty rumble of the Leopard's diesel engine. From the sound of it, it was sitting still, idling. No doubt the commander of that Leopard was either waiting for orders or uncertain how to proceed. Looking to her left and right, she saw that each of Manning's dismounts had an AT-4 LAW. "Okay, Sergeant Manning, go get it."
Again Manning didn't look at his company commander, staring intently instead in the direction from which the sound of the Leopard's engine came. Like Kozak, he had been listening for any change in pitch, any sign that it was moving or being joined by another tank. Only when he was ready did he bring himself up to a half crouch, reaching down for the AT-4 LAW that had been lying next to him. Calling out to his squad, he gave his orders. "Larson, Evestus, grab your rockets and follow me. The rest of you, cover us." From a short distance behind, Kozak, followed by Paden, went forward with Manning and his tank hunters.
Pulling up to where Kozak's Bradley should have been, Cerro discovered it was gone. Confused for a second, he looked down on the ground next to his own Bradley. Seeing where the tracks of Kozak's Bradley had torn up the ground when it had pulled back out of position, Cerro knew that he was in the right place. Kozak, however, had moved. Looking up to his right, he saw a second Bradley some thirty meters away. Cerro was about to dismount and go running over to it, hoping to find out if the commander of the other Bradley had seen where Kozak had gone, when he saw that Bradley launch a TOW anti-tank guided missile. Turning his attention across the open field to the woods to the northeast, Cerro watched the TOW as it streaked across the muddy field toward a target that he couldn't see.
The gunner of the Bradley that had fired, however, could. The TOW blew up as soon as it reached the far tree line and disappeared behind the trees that had been masking Cerro's view of the target. A ball of black smoke was already rising above the trees when the sound of the warhead's detonation reached Cerro's ears. Shaking his head, he turned back to look at the Bradley that had just fired and watched as it pulled back to hide in the woods. Fearing that he was going to lose contact with this Bradley, Cerro had just begun to wave at the commander of the Bradley when the sound of several small explosions further to his right came echoing through the trees. Since there was no distinctive high-pitched crack that characterized a tank cannon firing, or enough of a report to indicate the launching of a TOW, Cerro guessed that someone was firing anti-tank rockets on the battalion's right flank. Though he had heard Kozak's report of enemy activity over there, he hadn't imagined that it was so close or a major threat, since the obvious danger to the front across the field had so dominated his attention.
Grabbing his map and spreading it out before him, Cerro forced himself for the first time that morning to consider everything that was happening and come up with a clear, effective, and coherent plan of action.
When the first round of artillery came screaming in and impacted somewhere in the woods behind him, Seydlitz thought that the artillery battalion firing in support of his company had made a horrible error and was shelling his position instead of the enemy's. Pulling his hatch to the opened covered position, Seydlitz was about to call the fire support officer at battalion and tell him to cease fire when he saw across the field a series of explosions shake the farm buildings. That, he suddenly realized, was his artillery. The rounds behind him were American. While he was watching to see what effect his artillery had on the enemy and listening to the drumbeat of their artillery on his position, he wondered why he had discounted, almost without thought, the possibility that the enemy would respond with artillery too. He shouldn't have. And he knew he shouldn't have, since they had, until recently, been allies. Still Seydlitz reminded himself that all too often one allows himself to fall into the common pitfall of feeling that his side is superior or he is clever and his foe is dumb. The worst foe in war, Seydlitz had been told by one of his instructors, was often one's own arrogance.
Seeing that the first volley of his artillery had fallen too far to the west, Seydlitz calculated in his head how much of a correction he needed to give to his fire support officer before they fired the next volley. When he was ready, he attempted to contact the fire support officer. As he waited for him to respond, Seydlitz glanced over his shoulder, then to the northwest where the American vehicles had first come from, wondering if some American company commander wasn't doing exactly the same thing at that moment.
The first volley of German artillery had caught both Malin and Dixon standing on top of Dixon's personnel carrier watching as a momentary lull set in over the morning's fight. Without having to look about to decide what had happened, both men dropped onto the top of the personnel carrier as if someone had pulled their feet out from under them. When he was sure that the last round had landed, Malin looked up and over to the farmhouse, now ablaze. "Scotty, they know we're still here and want our asses."
Lifting up his head, Dixon looked over to where the shower of tiny cluster munitions had come down. "Jesus, that was close."
Looking to his rear, in the direction that he had come from not more than five minutes ago, Malin could see the tree line through the smoke of the burning tank that was offering them cover. "Yeah, we're lucky this time. Think they'll make a correction and try again?"
Dixon looked at Malin, in the direction that he was still looking, then back at Malin. He knew what Malin was thinking without asking. "Do you think we could make it?"
Slowly Malin turned his head toward Dixon. "Well, Scotty, we bet our lives if we stay here that the Germans won't shoot at us again. And we bet our lives that the smoke from the burning tank and the speed of these tinker toys will get us back in one piece if we make a run for it. What do you think?"
Dixon didn't need to think. It wasn't in him to sit and do nothing. "Do we go by road or trust the fields?"
Looking back again, Malin considered that. The fi
elds to the west of the hard-surfaced road were a good three feet lower than the level of the elevated roadway. "Fields, I think. There's a chance we'll get stuck. If we do, we unass and go it by foot."
Dixon nodded. "Okay, General. I'm right behind you."
The loss of the two lead tanks in his column attacking into the flank of Kozak's position convinced the German commander of the tank company moving through the woods that staying in the woods was more dangerous than pulling out into the open. With a crisp, curt command he ordered his driver to make a hard right, taking a trail that led out of the woods. Once they broke the tree line, he ordered his driver to hug the tree line and his gunner to keep a sharp eye out. If they ran into someone, he told his gunner, it would be very close. He knew they would have to get the first round off or die.
The call by Dixon that both he and Malin were making a run for it in his direction didn't surprise Vorishnov. From his position, he had watched the first German volley go in at the farmhouse, and like Malin he had wondered if the Germans would try again. With a quick call to the brigade fire support officer, Vorishnov ordered him to switch to high-explosive mix with smoke rounds and continue to repeat the mission against the German woods to the southeast until he, Vorishnov, gave permission to cut it off. Though not as effective as a dual-purpose conventional round that spewed out dozens of sub-munitions, Vorishnov felt the high explosive and smoke slamming into the edge of the tree line would serve to disrupt any gunner's aim long enough for Malin and Dixon to have a chance.
"There they go! The Americans are running."
Seydlitz looked first to the northwest, the direction he thought that his gunner was talking about, then, seeing nothing, to the west, toward the burning farmhouse. Without his primary sight, he couldn't see what his gunner was talking about. "Who? Who's running and where?"
The gunner, excited and already tracking his new targets, shouted back to Seydlitz, "The American personnel carriers, two of them. On the other side of the roadway. They're running from the farm north."
Leaning forward, Seydlitz looked hard. Only after a second of intense search did he manage to see the very tops of two vehicles, mostly hidden by the elevated hard-surfaced road, crawling north. "Yes, I see them. Prepare to engage."
The gunner hesitated. He had not used his telescope in a long time for a main-gun engagement. Like many of his peers in the German Army, he had come to rely on the computer-driven electronic/hydraulic fire-control system that gave the Leopard such a high probability of first-round hits. With the primary sight out and only the telescope available, he, the gunner, would have to make many corrections, such as target tracking and range estimation, that the automated system had done for him. Still, as he looked, he figured that he had more than enough time to get off three, maybe four shots before the Americans reached safety among the trees in the north. A miss with the first round, therefore, would not be catastrophic.
Unable to see or do anything where he was, Cerro ordered his driver to slowly move forward. With his gunner looking to the left and him watching the German woods to the northeast, Cerro allowed his Bradley to inch out of the protective tree line slowly. If all went well, he would have the driver cut to the right and follow the tree line looking for somewhere to duck back in a little further to the east. Though this didn't make good sound tactical sense, Cerro was tired of being left out of this fight and was looking for the quickest way to find Kozak so he could get an accurate assessment from her and start exerting some command and control.
Unfortunately, when you defy good tactical sense, you often get caught. No sooner had the Bradley come halfway out into the open than the image of a huge gray Leopard tank, its gun pointing right at him, struck Cerro square in the face. "BACK UP! DRIVER, BACK UP! NOW! NOW!"
Cerro's sudden screaming and the decibel level told the driver they were in trouble. Without hesitation, he slammed the transmission into reverse and began to back up. The gunner, seeing what had caused Cerro to yell, slew-laid his sight onto center mass of the German tank and squeezed the trigger, firing whatever ammunition and weapons were ready, without waiting for Cerro to issue a fire command. In this case, unfortunately, it was only the 25mm cannon and not the TOW antitank missile.
Across the way the German gunner had been as surprised to see the American Bradley pop into his sight. He was about to alert his command to this when suddenly the American Bradley began to shower his vehicle with a volley of 25mm high-explosive rounds. Though not particularly lethal to a tank's frontal armor, the hail of 25mm rounds served to startle the German crew and delay their first round. When the commander yelled fire without giving a proper fire command, the gunner took a snap shot that passed within inches of Cerro's Bradley as it gained speed and disappeared into the woods, firing as it went.
The wild firing of Cerro's gunner also served to alert one of Kozak's Bradleys to the danger. With a quick glance to the right, the commander of that Bradley saw the German tanks being well marked by the tracers from Cerro's wild volley and issued his fire command. Since he had been looking for tank targets at long ranges, the Bradley commander had his TOW missile pod up and in the ready-to-fire position. It was a simple matter for him and his crew to dispatch the German tank company commander that had frightened Cerro so badly and sent him scurrying back into the woods.
While Cerro was recovering from his near calamity, Seydlitz gave the order to fire. With great deliberateness, his gunner watched and tracked the two personnel carriers. Estimating their range, based on the range that he had used during his last engagement, the gunner took what he believed to be a good proper lead and prepared to fire. Ready, he announced he was shooting and squeezed the trigger.
Well on their way, Dixon dodged the great mud clods that the tracks of Malin's personnel carrier were throwing up as he endeavored to keep his personnel carrier as close to Malin's as prudent. They hadn't gone fifty meters before Dixon began regretting their decision to go by field instead of the road. Both his personnel carrier and Malin's were sliding about this way and that in the mud as their spinning tracks grabbed for traction and found little. He was about to call over the radio to recommend that they get onto the hard-surfaced road and make their run up there when a large geyser of dirt and rock sprang up from that road. Looking to his right, Dixon quickly saw that someone from the German woods to the east had seen them and was engaging them. Knowing that it was too late to switch to the road now, Dixon dropped the idea. Fixing his stare -on Malin's head as it bobbed this way and that in the open cargo hatch of his personnel carrier, Dixon tightened his grip on the lip of his hatch and began to pray.
Without having to think about it, Vorishnov knew what needed to be done. With cold, emotionless determination, he ordered his driver to move out and head south down the center of the road. When he heard the transmission slip into gear and felt the tank lurch forward, Vorishnov reached down, grabbed the tank commander's override, and brought the main gun to bear on the woods to the southeast where he thought the Germans firing on Dixon and Malin would be. "Gunner, look for a German tank in the tree line to the left."
As they came out of the tree line and began to gain speed, the gunner looked and tried to track but realized that he didn't have control of the turret yet. With no sign of distress or fear, the gunner called out to Vorishnov, "I've got the tree line in sight. Let go of your controls, Colonel."
Releasing the tank commander's override, Vorishnov looked first at the woods, then at the two personnel carriers struggling through the muddy fields. He wondered as he watched if this crew with him realized that he was setting them all up as a decoy, a diversion. Vorishnov knew that as soon as the Germans saw his tank sitting high atop the hard-surfaced road, they would forget the personnel carriers and go for him, the more dangerous target. That was, of course, provided that there was only one German tank shooting. If more than one enemy was in a position to engage them and the two personnel carriers, then he, his crew, Malin, and Dixon all stood a good chance of getting killed,
making his sacrifice an empty gesture.
Watching, Seydlitz felt like he needed to say something. He felt the urge to make some sort of correction, issue an observation. Something. But he knew his gunner had seen his first round strike short. The gunner had yelled out a short, crisp "Shit," while he continued to track his intended target and correct the lay of his gun.
So Seydlitz said nothing to the gunner. From his position, half in and half out of the turret, he watched the loader fumble about with the large tank cannon projectile. Now he wanted to speed up the loader. Shouting at him, of course, wouldn't do any good either. The loader was a good man and there wasn't anything that Seydlitz could say or do at this moment that would improve his performance. With nothing to do, he stuck his head out of the open hatch, looked across the field at the two personnel carriers, and waited.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the gunner announced, "Shooting now," just as Seydlitz caught sight of the American tank, its gun aimed directly at them as it came charging south down the hard-surfaced road at full speed.
"Enemy tank twelve o'clock in the wood line." Jerking his head to the left, Vorishnov caught sight of the German tank's muzzle blast. Doing as he had seen Dixon do, Vorishnov dropped to his sight, yelling as loud as he could on the way down, "GUNNER—SABOT—TANK!"
In unison, the gunner and loader yelled out, "IDENTIFIED!" "UP!"
Without a pause, Vorishnov responded, "FIRE! FIRE!"
The heat and the brilliant bright flash of the penetrator impacting on the front of the turret's armor plating blinded Seydlitz. Though his tank did not blow up and the onboard fire extinguishers kept the tank from burning, Seydlitz was now blinded, his gunner was dead, and the loader, panicked by the whole process of being hit again, abandoned the tank, fleeing into the woods just as the artillery mission Vorishnov had requested came crashing down about them. He would survive, making his way to the next tank just before it pulled out of position and, like the rest of Seydlitz's company, withdrew to the east away from the battle to regroup.
