“Over our attacks?”
“That's partly it. The fact the Chinese assisted with aircraft has them fit to be tied. They've lodged an official complaint with the United Nations.”
I laughed and once sober said, “Boy, that'll teach the Chinese, huh? The U.N. is useless and, by agreement, they should have come to our assistance years ago but they haven't done a damned thing, except make statements. They're inutile and have been from the very start. The Russians have some big balls, too. They use nuke weapons on us, then complain about the Chinese assisting us with air support!”
“They have threatened the Chinese with war, but Beijing simply laughed at them, I suspect. They're potentially the largest military force in the world and have an unlimited number of bodies to use in combat. For the U.N. to threaten them is like a bee threatening a grizzly bear.” the Major said, and then added, “I have some plans drawn up I want to show you. It's a proposed attack on the highway to Saint Louis and a convoy that comes through three times a week, but always in the day time. Also, I have a proposal for blowing up Bagnell Dam at the Lake of the Ozarks.”
“Why hit the dam?” I asked.
“It provides hydro electric power to the Russians.”
“I know of the lake, of course, and have been there, but it's been years. What do you know about the place?”
“The lake is about 55,000 square acres in size, has close to 1200 miles of shoreline, The base of the dam is about 45 meters tall, and is close to a half a mile wide. It has eight generators that keep the Russians well lit at night. I propose we blow all twelve flood gates at the same time.”
“What of civilian casualties downstream from the dam?”
“We'll warn them of course, but it will make our mission harder. We have no idea who is on the Russian payroll, but I can't see killing people without some warning.”
Like I just did with the suitcase bomb? But, warning them is out, I thought, but said, “No, no warning at all. It would compromise the mission and lead to too many deaths on our side.”
Eller grew serious and said, “I can't do this. To not warn them is—it's murder in my eyes.”
“Murder? I think not, but I can understand your view, completely. Look Joe, the Russians are killing Americans by the thousands everyday and they have no guilt at all, not a bit. By hitting the dam, we'll shut their power off for a long spell, I believe, and it's worth the cost in military and civilian lives.”
“I disagree, Colonel, and want to go on record that I disagree.”
“Good, I'll make note of your comments. You need to start thinking on a larger scale, Major, and see how anything we do will hurt the Russians. Then weigh the cost, even in human lives, and decide if it's worth the expense. Tonight, you and I will scout the area out. What kind of arrival times for the water have you figured for some of the towns downstream from the dam?”
“I estimate it'll take about 11 hours to reach Tuscumbia, and it'll probably wipe out highway 63 and the Highway 50 bridge. Also, at about the same time, water would strike the Bonnots Mill area. Then Chamois at close to 19 hours after our detonation. Now, that doesn't include private homes, fishing camps, or farms in the flood path, sir. A number of counties would suffer from this mission.”
“By morning, I want the latest census status on how many people live below the dam, with the amount of time these towns have before the water reaches them. Eleven hours is a substantial warning, and all could be evacuated in that time. Get the numbers and then you and I will make a decision.”
The Major saluted and left. I could understand his concern, but at times civilian lives are just as expendable as our lives. The key to the decision is how much disruption will any mission cause the Russians, and is it worth the price?
Sergeant Parsons entered and said, “Top isn't doing well; I spoke to his doctor. Seems the injury has taken a turn for the worse because Top is a heavy smoker. They had to remove half of one lung and so far he's not responding to treatment well. I saw the man, sir, and if you want to see Top alive, I suggest you get to the hospital today. I don't expect him to be alive in the morning.”
“Thanks, Sergeant, I'll walk over and visit with him in a while. He and I go way back, and he's a good man.”
“Good people are being killed in this war too, sir, or so you told me once.”
I had to chuckle, because my conversation with her when the Russians executed her parents must have been remembered well. I met her eyes and replied, “I hope we're keeping a list of all who have and will give their lives in the name of freedom. We need a grand memorial erected to list all the people who've died, and not just resistance personnel.”
“I'd not start building your memorial yet, sir, because I think we have years of fighting left.”
I nodded but didn't speak.
After a few minutes she asked, “Can I ask you a personal question, sir?”
“I guess, as long as it's not sexual.”
“I don't mean this in a negative way, but don't you think Carol is a little young for you?”
I grinned and replied, “First, Sergeant Parsons, my personal life is none of your business, but I will answer your question since it's not sexual. Neither the Captain or I chose to fall in love, it just happened. Age is more than just a number and while I'm many years older than her, I don't see it as a problem. She likes older men, always has, and I'm the kind of man who needs a woman in my life. Right now, the way we live, I don't feel age is a serious factor. I don't think I'll live long enough to ever become impotent anyway.” I said, and then laughed.
I watched her nod and knew she didn't like my answer. I think she may have had a crush on me. If so, I had no idea why, because with the troops under my command I was all business and at all times. I'm not good looking either, so if she had a crush, it was like some young boy who loved his 3rd grade teacher. Then again, it's more likely she was simply warning me of our age differences. In a normal society like we had before the war, Carol and I would have little in common, but with the war on we shared loneliness.
“Best of luck to the both of you. If you're going to see Top, sir, you'd better move.”
“Thanks, Sergeant Parsons, you're a wonderful woman and an even better NCO.”
She laughed and said, “We'll see if you and Carol ever break up, because I'll be knocking on your tent door. That night, you'll really find out how wonderful I am as a woman, sir.”
I blushed and replied, “I'm going to see Top.”
As I walked to the hospital I gave Parsons a lot of thought. There was no doubt she was all woman and would make a man a good mate for life. But, I don't love her and I do Carol. If something were to happened to Carol it would destroy me, only I'd have to put the grieving behind me at some point. Then, I'd not be taken advantage of by any woman, because I'd still be in the grieving process, and it's too easy to fall in love when you hurt. I need to stop thinking about love and women. Hell, I might be dead in an hour, I thought.
I noticed guards at the hospital, but I wasn't sure if they were there to keep Russians out or the patients in their beds. Most folks hated the hospital, unless in some serious pain. They quickly grew bored and the staff sent as many as they could back to work or on limited work. It was not uncommon for a patient to bust out of the place and return to their unit.
I saluted the two guards and entered the tent.
A doctor quickly moved to my side and asked, “What can I do for you, sir?”
“I'm looking for a patient called Top.”
“Follow me, but I can't give you much time with him. I'm afraid his time is limited and he'll not recover from his wound.”
“So, how long does he have?”
“I think from twelve to twenty-four hours; after that, each breath will be a gift from God. His respiratory system is very frail, mainly due to years of smoking.”
I nodded and followed the man around a tent full of sick and wounded people. Some had hideous injuries and others looked as healthy as me. I knew, h
owever, they were seriously impaired or they'd not be in the tent.
When we neared Top he looked terrible, with countless hoses and wires running all over his body. He was plugged into an IV and I saw a heart monitor. Other than that I had no idea what all the machines did or monitored. He looked pale and very tired.
“Sergeant Major, you have a guest.”
Top's eyes slowly opened, he saw me and gave a faint smile.
“I see you took the day off.” I said, and then smiled at him.
“I'm . . . under the . . . weather, sir.”
“Are you going to make it? The doctors say you'll not survive this wound.”
“I'll make it . . . and just to show . . . them how much . . . control a Sergeant . . . Major has.”
“You rest. Do you want some whiskey?”
“No . . . I . . . sleep too much . . . now.”
“Wow, you must really be in bad shape to turn down whiskey.” I said, and then laughed.
Top laughed and a minute later said, “I will . . . survive this.”
The doctor neared and said, “That's enough, sir. He tires easily.”
“Top, I have to leave now, but I'll be back to see you in the morning.” I grabbed his hand, met his eyes, and noticed his smile. His eyes met mine, and we both knew I'd not see him alive again. He gave my hand a gentle sqeeze.
“I'm . . . proud of . . . you, son. I will be . . . okay.” he said and closed his eyes.
He then gave my hand a hard squeeze and I left the hospital. Emotionally, I was busted up inside, but I knew it could have been any of us in Top's bed instead of him, including me. My eyes watered so badly I used an old rag in my pocket to wipe them dry.
By 2200 the Major and I were scouting below the dam. It was his people so he called the shots, but we'd been out for over two hours and I'd not seen a single house yet. We had seen a few old fishing shacks along the Osage River, but that was it. Every member of the team wore night vision goggles (NVGs).
I heard nothing, but our man on point suddenly dropped and began to scream. I tapped the medic on the arm and we moved to the downed man. He'd stepped in an open pit filled with long iron stakes with barbed ends. Looking down with my NVGs, I could see two stakes through his foot and ankle. He was bleeding hard, too. I was able to pull the two stakes from the dirt in the bottom of the hole and, once his foot was out of the hole, I pulled them through his foot by grasping the barbs.
I noticed the tips were discolored a dark brown, so I said, “Give him something for pain and also antibiotics, because the tips have been treated with human waste. I know this is one of our traps, so keep your eyes open for toe poppers.”
We made a wide detour around the punji stake pit and all went well. But we had almost half his squad, four people, carrying the injured man. There was no way to avoid the litter, so we did what was required and accepted it. It did, nonetheless, slow us down.
Four hours later we'd seen only one home, so we turned back to return to camp. The injured man was completely out of it, unconscious, and an IV was stuck on a stick so each person took turns carrying it and the litter. Most took to pinning the IV bag to a shirt pocket and that left one hand free.
When we were about half way back, I heard a chopper, but so did the whole squad and everyone dropped to the ground. I watched men and women frantically pulling ponchos out to cover with if the choppers flew too close to us. I knew when the flood lights came on by the door gunners this bird was not equipped with infrared detection gear. I hoped it would find nothing and leave, but as I waited, that little animal called fear began chewing on my belly.
I glanced at the Major and his eyes told me fear was alive in his belly, too.
After hovering near us for about ten minutes the aircraft flew away and I know everyone there said a quick prayer. We'd not been spotted, but even when an aircraft is looking where you know someone is, in the darkness, it's not as easy to do as it sounds. I'm sure the crew wore NVGs too, but we'd survived and that was all that mattered.
Soon we were all on our feet and Eller had us returning to base again. Suddenly, our woman on point signaled to get in the brush; she'd spotted the enemy. We were all camouflaged and would be very hard to spot. My fear became alive once more when the woman on point neared us and whispered one word, “Dog.” She then moved to beside me in the brush.
As they neared, I saw it was a Russian squad using a dog handler, and they're tough if you can't take them out. I decided to use my silencer equipped .22 to kill the dog and then we'd start the fight. I wanted the dog out of the way and the handler too, and as quickly as possible. I held up my pistol and then a grenade, so they all understood that we'd throw the explosives after I fired the pistol.
When the Russians neared, I heard the dog handler talking in low reassuring tones to the animal. The dog was a big beautiful German Shepherd, just like my Dolly, and I dreaded killing the animal, but this was war and I'd done many things I wasn't proud of. I was also glad I'd left Dolly with Carol for this mission. The wind was blowing the direction the Russians were moving and that was in our favor. By them being upwind of us, they'd not see the dog alert until the animal was almost on top of us.
A few seconds later, the dog alerted and leaped at me with only the leash keeping the animal from tearing me apart. I raised the pistol and placed a round in his chest and another in his head. The big dog dropped instantly. I then raised my weapon and fired two rounds into the dog handler’s chest and then I heard grenades exploding. Rifle fire was heard, as well as pistol shots, and when I glanced around there were tracers flying all over. Many resistance fighters used tracers for the last three cartridges, so they'd know they would need a fresh magazine. Seconds later, it grew deathly quiet.
“Wait as I check them.” I said.
I stood and moved to each man, placing a round in each head. The last man was a Russian Full Colonel and I was surprised. I was even more surprised when I found him alive, but wounded. His legs were both struck and he was in sad shape. Him, I wanted to return home with so we could milk him for all the information he might know.
I motioned our medic to me and had her work on the Colonel. I stood at the ready with my pistol on the man. He seemed to be unconscious, but I didn't trust Russians any more than my mentor, Willy Williams, had years ago. I'd done a lot of growing up since Willy died. I'd started with him as a Sergeant and due to deaths, including Willy's, and injuries, I was now a Full Colonel. Stepping on the bodies of dead friends is a hard way to be promoted, and I remember every single one of them.
Eller neared me and whispered, “What now? If we take him with us, we'll have to pack him.”
“Then I suggest we make another stretcher because this man has information we need. I honestly think intelligence will be tickled to get their hands on him. I value his life more than any of ours, because debriefing him will save lives in the future, maybe.”
The Major nodded and then moved to his troops and they started making another stretcher using the Russian ponchos each dead man had. As they took the ponchos, they also took all the gear from the men that we needed and could use. Of course, grenades, ammo and food was at the top of the list of needed items.
Eller showed a few minutes later holding a Russian map in his hand.
“Old map and outdated, but I think they were looking for our headquarters. The map has three areas circled in red grease pencil and if my Russian is correct, they think any one of these places is our headquarters. If you'll look, they're a good five miles off and not even close.”
“Good, bring all the papers and maps with us.”
“This is pretty much it, because they don't even have unit patches on their uniforms. I know they're not Spetsnaz or we'd have experienced a much harder fight and they'd be dressed differently.”
“Get your people to moving, and bring their radio. I'm sure our radio shop can change the frequency and we need more ways to communicate. Also, contact base and let them know we're bringing in a 'Big Bug.' That way
they'll have a security team, along with an intelligence officer, in place when we arrive.”
“Will do. Now, with two stretchers, all but four of us will be used to carry the two men.”
“That won't work. Put two people to a stretcher, not four, and we'll have more folks to fight with if the brown stuff hits the fence. Hurry, because we've been here too long already.”
“Thomas, you on point and Johns, you bring up the rear. Let's move, people, and keep the noise to a minimum.”
I watched our medic give the Russian a shot of morphine so he'd be out of it on the trip. I wasn't sure if she gave it out of compassion for his pain or to keep the man quiet as we moved. I was to learn later it was for both reasons. Just a few years back we were killing every Russian we found alive, but we'd started treating their injured if they were permanently disabled, and if not, we made them that way. Cold? Perhaps, but I didn't want to face the same soldiers two or three times down the road.
The trip back was a slow one because of the two men we were packing, plus the fact the point man or woman started picking up booby traps; most were ours, and signs of antipersonnel mines, which could have belonged to either side. In all cases we cautiously moved around the danger and continued on our way.
When we were about two miles from our camp, Johns, who was now on point, screamed and began to do an almost comical dance on the trail. As his screams grew louder I moved forward and right off saw three metal barbs sticking from his back, each dripping blood.
“Medic!” I said in a low tone, but with a sense of urgency. I wanted to keep the noise down.
She neared, along with Eller, looked him over and then she met my eyes as she shook her head.
“Give him morphine for his pain and to end his suffering.” Eller ordered.
The man had struck a thin line across the trail, usually thin fishing line was used, and triggered a limb that was about chest high and had five sharp barbs mounted on it. It was held back so when he pulled the line, it released the trigger and struck him full in the chest. There was nothing we could do for him except give him enough morphine he'd overdose and die in no pain. I didn't say anything, but the trap was one of ours.
The Fall of America | Book 6 | Call Sign Copperhead Page 7
