by Larry Bond
But there were other, more sensitive issues, such as the investigators that had been “interviewing” his men. “If you want my soldiers to work with yours, they can’t be afraid they’ll be thrown into prison,” Tae demanded.
The intelligence colonel on Sohn’s staff countered, “Some of the men you command were party officials, responsible for human rights violations, or other criminal activity. A lot of them aren’t even soldiers. They’re still wearing civilian clothes.”
Tae bristled at the phrase “criminal activity,” but waited for the colonel to finish. “Immediately after the fifteenth of August, the government issued a general order for all able-bodied men, most of whom were reservists anyway, to be mobilized. Regardless of the clothes they wear, they are soldiers under my command.”
The colonel didn’t back down. “Your own role in the Kim regime is still under investigation as well, General,” he threatened.
“Then perhaps the best thing for my men and I is to defend Pyongyang against whatever Chinese units break through your defenses. Your men can stay outside the city limits.”
General Sohn shook his head. “That isn’t what we agreed to.”
“Neither was criminal prosecution of my troops,” Tae responded sharply. “I’m adding a new condition: blanket amnesty for all the men under my command. It never occurred to me that you would allow this type of thing, but if you are, then we will remain in Pyongyang and you can do without my eight full divisions of veteran soldiers.”
The colonel actually laughed. “That’s the best place for them! They’d crack and run as soon as the Chinese opened fire.”
“That’s enough, Colonel,” snapped Sohn.
Tae laughed. “Really, Colonel? Then please explain how these soldiers— outnumbered, hungry, low on ammunition, and surrounded—held against a full-fledged frontal assault by your best troops. And have you forgotten that I already have many other troops already fighting the Chinese?”
Tae was answering the colonel’s insult, but he made sure to include the general and the rest of his staff in his reply. He then turned to address Sohn directly. “My men are fighting for their homes now, and if they survive to go home, they deserve to live free of revenge.”
General Sohn nodded. “Agreed.”
5 September 2015, 0115 local time
Anju Bridge, Chongchon River
Anju, North Korea
They came in low from the southwest as fast as they dared, only slowing once they neared their objective. They were in a hurry.
Rhee wasn’t in his personal helicopter this time, but a stock machine of the Ninth Brigade, along with the rest of his five-man team. It had been a short ride, only seventy-five kilometers from their new base outside Pyongyang to Anju, or more specifically to a bridge just west of the city, over the Chongchon River.
He used the ride to work on replacing their top cover. While they had prepped and loaded for the mission, they’d been able to watch a live video feed from a Searcher UAV that they’d sent north of Anju. Chinese troops were coming south, at speed, and the Ninth Brigade was using the UAV to search for the advancing PLA units. Unfortunately, it may have found them, because ten minutes after Rhee’s team took off, the UAV’s signal ceased.
Whether it was to hostile action or some operational accident was impossible to tell. The controllers had lost time while they confirmed that the vehicle was truly gone before launching a replacement. Unfortunately, the UAV was built for endurance, not speed. The Israeli-made UAV, about the size of a Piper Cub private aircraft, traveled just about as slowly. In fact, their Surion helicopters were faster. The UAV would be on station some time after they arrived, but it wasn’t there yet.
As they flew north, Rhee had weighed their options. The Chinese were advancing faster than threatening weather, and he needed to know where they were. In theory, loss of their reconnaissance could be used to justify a mission abort, or at least a delay, but he decided against it. There was no time to reset and start over.
Gangrim Phase II was well underway. Rhee and his Ghosts were once more tracking down North Korean WMDs, this time north of Pyongyang. And with the detailed information from General Tae, they’d seized a number of bunkers that neither the South Korean NIS nor American intelligence knew of. But the intervention of the Chinese had almost doubled their workload. Instead of just removing the threat of chemical or nuclear attack, they now had to also slow the advance of the Chinese army.
The weight of the Chinese advance was coming down the western side of the Korean Peninsula, along a coastal plain some sixty kilometers wide. From that point east, the land rose and became hilly, then downright mountainous—definitely not good ground for armored vehicles. In fact, that kind of terrain would slow any type of unit. Besides, Pyongyang was in the western part of the DPRK, and the distance to the former North Korean capital from the Chinese border was shortest on the west.
While the western coast was relatively flat, it was threaded with rivers that flowed from the mountains westward to the coast. The Chongchon River ran east to west right across the coastal plan. Half a kilometer wide in spots, it made a perfect defensive barrier.
And there were a lot of other smaller rivers and bridges. South Korean and US aircraft and special operations teams were dropping them ahead of the advancing Chinese as fast as they could.
Or at least, they had been. ROK aircraft had already destroyed three of the four bridges across the Chongchon near Anju, but they’d lost two F-16s on the last raid. Accustomed to complete air supremacy, the ROK Air Force had cut some corners, in the interest of speed. The strikers had been sent out without escorts, and had run in to a Chinese offensive fighter sweep, a flight of J-11 Flankers looking for trouble. Surprised in mid-strike, the F-16s had lost two of their number before escaping.
Chinese fighters venturing that far south told everyone that the days of unopposed air operations were over. It also hinted that the Chinese were very interested in that part of the Korean landscape.
That’s when Rhee Han-gil’s Ghost Brigade got the mission, barely seven hours earlier. The last bridge over the Chongchon River was his target. The ROK Air Force would stay busy, hitting nearby targets, but with more precautions.
Luckily, Rhee’s plan was simple, largely because there was no time for anything fancy. A South Korean navy sub in the Korea Bay would launch Hyunmoo cruise missiles. They were stealthy and smart enough to follow the river valley from the coast all the way up to the bridge. They were guided by GPS signals, and were accurate enough for most targets, but the concrete piers that supported the Anju Bridge were only a few meters across, and they were very strong.
Rhee and his team would get close to the bridge and set up a differential GPS transmitter. It would provide a ground reference for the missiles’ navigation systems, reducing their miss distance from several meters to a few centimeters—less than two inches.
His team would sneak in, set up the transmitter, calibrate it for their location, wait for the boom, and then sneak out. With a little luck, they wouldn’t even be seen, much less have to fight. Rhee was more than happy to let the navy do the heavy lifting this time.
They had clear weather, and relatively smooth air. The helicopter’s radar warning receiver remained silent, and they arrived at the insertion point only fifty minutes after taking off. Rhee was mindful of the short distance back to friendly forces. The united Korean armies needed time to regroup.
Rhee was the first man out, followed by Lieutenant Guk, then the two corporals and finally Master Sergeant Oh, carrying the real-time differential GPS transmitter. Weighing about twenty kilos, and the size of a large backpack, the only tricky thing about using it was telling the transmitter its precise geographic position.
To guide missiles within centimeters of the target, the transmitter had to be placed just as precisely. They would use laser rangefinders to feed distances into the device, which already had a very accurate map loaded in its memory. While Oh and his assistant, Corporal Dae,
took measurements and typed the results into a laptop computer, Rhee, Guk, and the other corporal, Ban, would make sure they weren’t disturbed. Unless there was a hardware problem, they’d need ten minutes. When it was ready, they would send a signal via satellite, and the sub, loitering at periscope depth, would launch six missiles. A few minutes later, the Anju Bridge would be history.
Of course, nothing was ever that simple. The city of Anju, on the southern bank of the river, was suspected to be one of the last strongholds of the Kim faction. Intelligence estimates suggested that at least a division was holed up in the city. And the only high ground in the area was a pair of low hills on the river’s south bank, barely four kilometers west of the city. That’s where they had to place the transmitter.
They’d landed as planned, a little over a klick from their destination, and the helicopter departed, going to a loiter spot farther south where it would wait.
In spite of the clear weather and a half moon, they were using night vision goggles. The river was on their left, a few hundred meters wide. Lieutenant Guk, on point, led them across dry rice paddies, using every bit of the meager cover. The low-lying land near the river was all farmed, with only an occasional tree or row of bushes separating one field from the next.
They could hear insects, and even the plop of a fish jumping occasionally, but nothing of human origin. Most honest folk were asleep at this hour, and the fighting discouraged casual travel at night.
They were in single file, a few meters between each man. They made little sound, and spoke only to warn of possible threats or to give an all clear. Rhee had even turned down the volume on his headset radio.
There were a just few lights ahead on the left, which marked a village to the west of Anju, named Unhak-ri. Unfortunately, it sat on top of the nearest of the two hills that overlooked the bridge, and Rhee’s team carefully worked their way past the settlement, heading for the eastern hill, which was a little closer to their target, anyway.
The burst of fire, and then another one, made the five drop and freeze as one man. Guk’s voice reported softly, “I can’t see the source, but it’s ahead of us, toward the bridge.” There were no signs of bullet strikes near them, but Rhee had the team sound off, just to be sure. Everyone was fine.
Rhee tried to imagine what the circumstances were up ahead. Was the Kim faction fighting with the now united KPA? Were there deserters or bandits ahead, preying on civilians?
They listened for a moment, then Rhee gave the all clear and they began moving forward again. Another single shot, maybe from a pistol, caused them to stop once more, but there was still no sign of the shooter, or that they were even the target. Rhee ruled out accidental discharge as a possibility. Then a cascade of fire from several weapons removed all doubt. There was a firefight ahead of them.
Caution dictated they slow and be more vigilant, but necessity hurried them along. The only certainty was that people ahead of them were shooting at something. Hopefully, the night vision gear, keyed to heat emissions, would spot them before they saw Rhee’s Ghosts.
The bulk of the second hill lay ahead of them, a dark mound blocking the stars to the east. There were no buildings on it, and it was not cultivated, just covered with low scrub and saplings not worth cutting down for firewood.
“Three forward,” Rhee said from the third position. Moving past Corporal Ban, he found Guk about ten meters ahead, prone, goggles up, using night vision binoculars. Rhee quietly approached and went prone as well. Without speaking, Guk offered the colonel his binoculars and pointed to a spot two-thirds of the way up the hill. Rhee flipped up his own night vision gear and adjusted the binoculars.
Unlike his goggles, which sensed heat, the binoculars amplified the existing light, as well as magnifying the image. Bracing his elbows, Rhee followed the lieutenant’s cue and searched the hillside.
Movement caught his eye, and he saw someone come up to a kneeling position, fire, and then drop down again. It was a short burst, and he was firing up the hill, away from the river. What was he shooting at?
There was another shot, this time from the pistol again, but it wasn’t quite a pistol. And then a different person fired, but remaining prone.
Rhee lowered the binoculars and turned his head to see Guk watching him. “Sir, we need that hill.” It was obvious, but the lieutenant was confirming the logical conclusion that followed from that fact.
There weren’t supposed to be any friendlies in this area. “Take Dae and swing south until you can go up from the back. I’ll bring the others in from here. Tell me when you’re ready.”
Guk took Corporal Dae and headed off, while Rhee called the other two team members forward into line-abreast formation. He used the binoculars to study the hillside, not only to watch for any reaction to Guk’s movements, but also to try and get some sort of clue about who was fighting whom. So much for sneaking in, he thought.
Rhee heard a “Ready” over his headset, and answered, “Moving.”
Corporal Ban was the team sniper, and had set up his DSR-50, a heavy .50-caliber sniper rifle. It was fitted with a powerful night vision sight, and he’d provide overwatch while his two comrades moved up.
As soon as Rhee heard Guk’s radio signal, he advanced, staying low, eyes on the hill, rushing to the best cover he could find. A beat after the colonel stopped, Oh moved up, then it was Dae’s turn to displace forward while Rhee had his glasses trained on the hillside.
They’d practiced the tactic so much it was almost instinctive. Each could pick a piece of cover that gave his comrades good places to go when it was their turn to move. Whenever he was stationary, Rhee studied the combatants and watched the clock. The ROK Air Force raids would keep any Chinese fighters occupied for a while, but Rhee wanted his team done and gone before the Chinese got a chance to notice anything else.
There were several shooters on each side. One group was armed with automatic rifles, and Rhee was pretty sure now that strange pistol shot he’d heard before was some sort of silenced assault rifle. That implied special operations forces. Before everything came apart in the DPRK, the North had plenty of SOF troops.
And he’d bet at least one of the sides was allied with the Kim faction. That made the other group at least a nominal ally, but there was no guarantee that they’d be friends. And he didn’t have time to sort out who was who.
They were getting close, perhaps two hundred meters from the hill, when Guk reported, “We’ve found a body. It’s Chinese.”
That brought him up short. The others with Rhee had heard the report as well, and he signed for them to remain in place. “Confirm Chinese,” Rhee transmitted.
Guk responded immediately. “Digital pattern fatigues, weapon is a suppressed QBZ-03.”
Chinese weapon, Chinese uniform. The pieces fell into place instantly. Pathfinders, sent to seize and hold a strategic chokepoint, like a bridge, were a tactic as old as war. And the others must be Kim faction troops guarding the bridge.
“Engage the Chinese,” Rhee ordered. “Self-defense only against the other side.”
Rhee had barely finished speaking before Ban’s rifle boomed. Even with a muzzle brake and a suppressor, it sounded like a thunderclap. Rhee kept the glasses to his face long enough to see what was likely a Chinese soldier fall, and brought his own weapon up to cover Ban as he hurriedly shifted position forward. Oh was firing as well.
It was another two bounds before they saw any return fire, coming from the Chinese positions. It struck close to Rhee, who was in front, but Ban’s rifle boomed again and Rhee heard Ban report, “Target down.” The Kim side of the firefight was silent, but Rhee could hear the fire from his men, and Guk reported, “Engaged, two down.”
They kept moving forward, up the hill slope, team members staying low and bringing a lethal crossfire down on anyone that shot back.
Finally, they were near the crest, and Rhee saw a dead Chinese soldier, one of Ban’s victims, given the size of the hole in his chest. He switched back and forth
between the IR goggles and the night vision binoculars, looking for enemies. All the nearby heat sources belonged to his men or freshly dead Chinese.
Guk’s voice warned, “Coming in from your right,” and the lieutenant and Corporal Dae joined the other three.
Corporal Dae reported, “Sir, while we were working our way up the hill, I got word the UAV is on station.” Dae was the team’s radioman and UAV controller.
Now that the long-delayed vehicle was on station, Rhee could only smile. “Look for the Chinese. Send it up the highway.” While Dae did that, the rest of the team stayed low and kept a wary eye down the hill.
A few moments later, a voice called out, “Yellow Five.” At least it was in Korean.
While the rest of his team took cover and searched for targets, Rhee called back, “I don’t know the countersign. There are nine dead Chinese soldiers over here. Are there more?” Ban was still moving, looking for a clear angle, but Oh and Dae both reported that they had targets.
There was no immediate response, and Rhee added, “Do you have wounded? We have a medic.”
The voice answered, “Identify yourselves.”
Rhee wasn’t going to lie. “ROK Army. We’re here to blow up the bridge. Will you agree to a truce? We don’t have to fight.”
“We’re supposed to guard the bridge.”
“The Chinese are coming soon, before daybreak if those bodies tell us anything.” Rhee was beginning to feel silly, holding a conversation with someone twenty meters away in the dark. The clock was ticking, but he really didn’t want to kill other Koreans if he didn’t have to. He repeated, “Will you agree to a truce?”
After a short pause, the voice responded, “Truce.” He didn’t sound pleased, but stood and took two steps forward. In his goggles, Rhee could see a figure in fatigues. He was holding an assault rifle, but it was pointed down.