Battlefield Taiwan

by James Rosone

  “Captain Porter and the rest of the company will be arriving shortly, and that will help with the enemy near us, but that won’t help us survive that second onslaught,” Ian realized.

  Sergeant Slater yelled to his radio operator, “Raise the battalion! I need to let them know what we are facing!”

  As he started to relay to battalion what they were seeing, two of the remaining Bradleys both fired off their TOW missiles at the incoming tanks.

  “Sergeant! We have air support inbound,” said the forward air controller. “I need you to guide them in. Switch to channel six. Their call sign is Raven One.”

  Slater could hear a lot of yelling in the background of the radio. “Sounds they have a lot going on there too,” Ian thought as he switched the radio preset.

  “Raven One, this is Baker Three. We have troops in contact. Requesting emergency air support. How copy?” Ian yelled into the receiver to be heard over the cacophony of war happening all around him.

  A second later, the pilot replied, “This is Raven One. We copy, Baker Three. Please proceed with coordinates and let us know what we’re looking for.”

  Ian grabbed his notepad, which had their exact grid location written down, and relayed it to the pilots. “We have multiple human wave assaults danger close, 200 meters from our position. We also have nearly a dozen T-99s and close to two dozen assorted infantry fighting vehicles roughly 1,200 meters to our front. What type of ordnance do you have?” Slater asked.

  “Baker Three, we’re a flight of four A-10s, and we have full combat load. Our first pass will be against the infantry assaulting your current position. Then we’ll move to focus on the enemy armor. Please pop yellow smoke so we can make sure we have your lines identified,” directed the pilot.

  Slater looked up and yelled to several of the soldiers around him, “Start throwing your yellow smoke grenades behind us. Pass this order down the line!”

  After a momentary flutter of activity, a yellow pillar of smoke appeared behind Slater and his men.

  “We see the smoke. We’re coming in hot from the north,” the pilot said as their aircraft appeared out of the clouds from the north.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see an A-10 as I am right now,” Ian thought as he fought the fear that was still growing inside of him.

  As the aircraft descended, the four of them leveled out in a line, slightly behind each other. Their 30mm chain guns made their unmistakable buurrrppp sound as thousands of rounds began to tear into the waves of PLA soldiers that were nearly on top of them. In seconds, hundreds, maybe even thousands of PLA soldiers were obliterated into chunks of flesh and mists of blood.

  While the Warthogs were going in for their attack run, a heavy volume of tracer fire erupted from the Chinese lines, in an attempt to blot the four-attack aircraft from the sky. A couple of missiles leapt into the air, leaving ominous trails of smoke in their wake.

  The A-10’s defensive systems went into effect, launching out multiple flares to distract the missiles. Two of the missiles went right for the flares and detonated harmlessly. The other missiles missed entirely, and the sweet angels of death circled around for a second pass at the enemy armor.

  As the Warthogs lined up for their next attack, nearly a dozen anti-aircraft missiles were shot at them from the Chinese lines. One of the flying tanks took a direct hit to one of its engines, but the pilot still continued his attack run, relentless in his effort to provide Ian and his men as much help as possible. Fortunately for Ian, none of the other incoming missiles did anything to stop the A-10s from completing their mission.

  When the Warthogs flew across the enemy lines, they released a series of hellfire missiles and cluster bombs across the entire enemy position. Explosions rocked the area. Parts of armored vehicles, tanks, and even enemy soldiers were launched into the air, and the horizon filled with smoke and flames.

  Ian heard a lot of his soldiers whooping and hollering at the destruction the A-10s had just wrought. The victory would be short-lived. Seconds later, Ian saw one of the Warthogs explode into a million tiny little pieces.

  As he surveyed the scene, another missile streaked in from the clouds above and landed a direct hit on one of the A-10s, blowing the right engine apart. The three remaining aircraft immediately broke formation and began spitting out additional flares and chaff canisters. Seconds later, two additional missiles flew in from high above and hit the flares.

  “Baker Three, this is Raven One. We have enemy fighters engaging us now. We’re breaking off and heading for home. We’ll see what we can do to rustle up some additional help for you guys,” the pilot said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the warning sirens blaring in his cockpit.

  “That’s it for these guys,” realized Slater. “They’re bugging out, and rightly so.”

  “Thank you, Raven One. You just saved our lives. Stay safe and we’ll see you next time. Good luck. Out,” Ian said. They were going to need it as much as his platoon was.

  As the aircraft left the area, the Chinese attack resumed, albeit with a lot fewer armor and infantry soldiers. The human wave that was about to crash against them had largely been wiped out. What remained of the infantry was content to stay where they were, firing at his men from a distance while they waited for the next wave of soldiers to join them.

  “Sergeant Slater, look behind us!” yelled one of his soldiers. Ian turned around and smiled at the sight of the rest of his company, along with eight M1A2 Abrams battle tanks, heading towards them.

  “The cavalry has arrived,” he thought.

  Supplies and Reinforcements

  Seoul, South Korea

  Yongsan Garrison

  It was dark outside. Snow once again drifted down on the Korean Peninsula. The temperature had continued to hover around 2℉ as General John Bennet poured himself a cup of coffee, his fifth of the day.

  He snickered as he looked at his coffee mug, which his brother had bought for him as a gag gift. Designed by some veteran-owned company, it bore the inscription, “Filled with Blood, Tears, and Whiskey.”

  As John sat down at his desk, his eyes wandered to a family photo, a picture of him, his wife and their four kids, two boys and two girls. His eldest son, John Junior, who went by JR, had just joined the Marines four days ago.

  “Why the heck did he join the Marines? I could have helped him out so much more if he had just gone into the Army like I told him to,” he thought. Then again, JR was a strong-willed young man bent on doing things his way. “I’ll have to speak with General Cutter about my son once he finishes officer basic course. At least he went officer — I really wish he’d stayed in and finished law school, though.”

  John snapped himself out of his thoughts and looked down at his desk. He had been reviewing the latest casualty reports and the burn rates of their current war stocks. The Chinese had just launched a massive offensive the day before. The new attack was turning into something fierce as the PLA brought a lot more forces to bear than he had thought they had in the region. He had chewed out his intelligence directorate for not knowing about the increase in PLA soldiers moving towards them. It was their responsibility to identify these units before they became a big problem.

  As he was scanning through the casualty reports, two of his colonels popped their heads into his office. “Sir, we have a situation developing up north,” one of them said. “You should come to the operations center.”

  General Bennet sighed. He knew this was probably not good if they were asking him to come back to the ops center so soon. He’d only left there forty minutes ago.

  “All right, I’m on my way,” he said, reaching down and grabbing his coffee cup to take with him.

  “I might need more of this,” he thought as he followed his officers down the hall.

  “General Bennet, we have a break in our lines — here at Dashiqiao,” said Brigadier General Phillips, his operations officer or J3 as he pointed to a spot on the digital map.

  The map displ
ayed the various US, ROK, and Japanese units all along the front lines, along with a red line showing the enemy’s front line and a blue line marking the edge of the Allied forces. As the general examined the image, he saw that the break in the line was serious.

  “If the PLA is able to exploit this break, they could potentially roll up the entire front line, forcing us to give up the past ten days of hard-fought gains,” Bennet realized.

  “OK, everyone, let’s keep our cool. What’s happening? Let’s start from the beginning,” John said, trying to calm everyone down. It had been a trying few weeks, and nerves were becoming frayed as exhaustion and stress continued to mount.

  General Phillips, who was standing nearby, sighed. “The Chinese appear to have moved an entire army group to the area. Right now, most of the troops we’ve been encountering are militia, but following the militia units are the regular army groups. I talked with the brigade commander from the 16th Mechanized Brigade. His brigade is just south of the main enemy assault, and he told me the PLA’s been hitting his entire side of the line with multiple human wave attacks throughout the day.”

  General Bennet frowned.

  Phillips continued, “His brigade isn’t the only one experiencing this problem, either. All up and down the line, they’re reporting massive human wave attacks. The only thing that’s stopped them from being overrun up to this point has been close air support. However, even the Air Force is starting to buckle under the pressure from the PLA Air Force.”

  Phillips went on for another twenty minutes, bringing everyone up to speed on the status of the front line and the Allied positions.

  After a while, Colonel Vince Sutherbee, the Air Force liaison officer or LNO assigned to General Bennet’s command, jumped into the conversation. “Sir, now that most of the Taiwanese military has officially surrendered, the Chinese are winding down their primary combat operations in Taiwan. What we’re seeing now is a transfer of those air assets from the southern theater of command to northern China. We are starting to see a massive increase in the number of Shenyang J-11s and Chengdu J-10s. These aircraft are starting to mix it up with our fighters in significantly greater numbers than we’d seen in the past.”

  Before anyone could ask him about the Air Force providing additional ground support, Colonel Sutherbee added, “Our aircraft are doing their best to maintain air superiority over the battlefield. Our A-10 Warthogs, which have been instrumental in blunting the PLA attacks, have been taking a terrible beating with the increase in PLA fighters. In some cases, we’ve had pilots flying their aircraft back into combat despite one of their engines being completely inoperable or blown out. The demand for air support is so great, we just don’t have enough aircraft to support the ground forces and keep the enemy fighters off the battlefield.”

  General Bennet looked distressed. Turning to his Navy LNO, Captain Amber Michaels, he asked, “What about the Navy? When are those additional carriers going to get in range to use their aircraft over the battlefield?”

  Captain Michaels was a new addition to Bennet’s staff, having transferred to his headquarters shortly after the sinking of the USS Ronald Reagan, one of the lucky crewman to survive that tragic day. Bennet was glad to have her at his command and knew he would have to rely on the Navy a lot more going forward for their air support, especially with the Air Force still recovering from the loss of Kunsan Air Base at the outset of the war.

  Amber responded, “Sir, I spoke with Admiral Kinkaid an hour ago. His strike group is now entering range of our most forward front lines.”

  She motioned towards her Air Force counterpart. “Working with Colonel Sutherbee, we’re going to break up the air war into two sections. The Navy, with the support of our EA-18 Growlers, will begin to assume control of air superiority from the Air Force. After viewing the latest satellite imagery, it appears the Chinese are preparing for not only a much larger ground offensive, but an air offensive as well—”

  Colonel Sutherbee interrupted, “—You’re talking about their H-6 strategic bombers?”

  She nodded, adding, “That, and their Xian JH-7 ground attack aircraft. We thought those aircraft might be used against our facilities in Guam, but the latest updates show those squadrons have been moved to just east of Beijing, which tells us they’re most likely going to be used to support their ground forces.”

  Everyone in the room sat there for a few minutes, thinking about a possible course of action.

  General Phillips chimed in, “What about our B-1s or B-2s? Perhaps we can have them go after the airstrips housing those strategic and tactical bombers.”

  Up to that point, the B-1s had been focusing on troop concentrations and heavy industrial centers. The limited number of B-2s they possessed had been focusing on going after the Chinese infrastructure: taking out train tunnels, bridges, and key railyards deep inside of China. While the strategic attacks did not always yield immediate fruit, their long-term impact — disrupting the Chinese economy and ability to move men and material around the country — would be realized soon enough.

  Bennet held up his hand before anyone could respond. “The B-2s are under presidential order to keep hitting their specified targets. We aren’t authorized to redirect them unless we get permission directly from Gates. The B-1s, however, I can redirect under my own power.”

  He turned to face Sutherbee. “Send a message over to the B-1 squadrons to begin going after the PLA airfields that house the H-6 strategic bombers. I want the Lancers to start hitting the Chinese airfields as often as possible,” he ordered.

  Then Bennet turned to his logistics officer. “What’s the status on our supplies and replacement soldiers?”

  Brigadier General Amy Tibbits had known this question would eventually be asked, and unfortunately, she did not have any good answers for the general. The US logistics system was stretched beyond its breaking point. It had gotten so bad that the Department of Defense had been contracting UPS and FedEx to use their aircraft to assist in moving critical war material to Asia.

  “It’s a sad day when you have to rely on FedEx to keep you supplied with tank rounds and bullets, but that’s where we are,” she thought. She swallowed nervously as the general and the others at the table all turned their eyes towards her.

  “Our burn rates are starting to become a major concern. With the renewed Chinese offensive, we’re churning through a lot more ammunition. The other challenge we’re running into is that as we move the supply depots forward, we run the risk of them being overrun if the lines continue to collapse. I will say, FedEx and UPS have really stepped up. They’ve begun to deliver an enormous amount of supplies from the States to Seoul. This has allowed us to use the C-130s to do the more dangerous work of moving the supplies from Seoul to our forward depots.”

  Tibbits quickly changed topics and moved to replacement soldiers, which was just as important as supplies. “US First Army is finally starting to graduate the first set of draftees. While most of these draftees are being slated for units in Europe, I have managed to get some of our open requirements filled. We’re going to start seeing an influx of 7,000 Army soldiers to Seoul, along with 15,000 Marines a week. These recruits will be arriving in country starting next Monday, and every Monday thereafter.”

  This was the first piece of really good news the group had had in more than a week. While the Allied offensive had been going well and they had been capturing a lot of territory, the casualties had been mounting, and replacement soldiers had been arriving at a trickle, which was not sustainable given their losses.

  General Bennet sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. He had been left with one bad choice after another. The Secretary of Defense had directed them to attack the PLA hard and push them back out North Korea.

  “The US needs some wins,” he could hear the SecDef saying, almost as if he were still in the room.

  “Well, I gave them the wins, but I’ve nearly run my army into the ground in the process,” General Bennet thought. “Now we h
ave a major enemy offensive brewing up, and I have no way of realistically stopping it.” John tried to crunch through the scenarios, hoping he could somehow pull a win out of what would be certain defeat if he kept his forces where they currently were.

  Looking at his senior leaders, Bennet’s eyes narrowed as he determined what they would do. “It’s clear the PLA is launching a major offensive. Looking at the map, we don’t have nearly enough forces to stop them. We have roughly 101,000 US forces, and that’s if we include the two Marine Expeditionary Forces. The Koreans have suffered some heavy losses, and so have the Japanese. We have no real Air Force replacements coming for many months, and no additional naval ships for at least the same amount of time.”

  He sighed, pausing for a moment, but he knew he needed to make the tough decision. “I want our forces to begin a fighting retreat to the Yalu River, establish a defensive line there and hold. We will not retreat beyond the river. That river will be our last stand. This will allow us to shrink our front lines to a more manageable front. The Yalu is also the best natural barrier we could ask for. If we start our withdrawal now, we can control the retreat and allow our forces time to get entrenched and prevent a larger breakout.”

  The others at the table nodded in agreement. No one wanted to retreat, but to stay and try to hold their current lines wasn’t tenable given the size of their current force and the lack of air assets being allocated to them. Seeing a consensus between his officers, the general closed the meeting. “I’ll tell the SecDef our plan. Let’s get the ball rolling right now and make sure we can hold at the Yalu.” With that said, the group broke up and began to get their parts of the plan set into motion.

  Revelations

  Washington, D.C.

  White House, Situation Room

  Tom McMillan had just spent the last fifteen minutes bringing everyone in the Situation Room up to speed on the interrogation of Wu Bangguo, the Deputy Minister for Chinese State Security and Chairman Zhang Deijang’s righthand man. His capture had been an absolute coup and had provided a treasure trove of information. The CIA had spent the better part of five days debriefing Mr. Wu and then going over every piece of information with a fine-tooth comb, authenticating as much of it as possible before passing the information up to Tom and the President.