by W. R. Benton
“No Chinese among the dead?”
“No, no Asians. Do you want me to booby-trap the bodies?”
“Roger that. Booby-trap all of them.”
“Roger, copy. I will proceed with my search for the Asian.”
“Hotel Actual said good hunting on your kills. You are the first unit to call in any dead so far. Yes, Actual wants you to continue searching for the Chinese man and if you find him, you will all get a fifth of vodka, a week off, and some women or men, depending on what your desires are. By all costs this Asian must be found. Hotel out. Over.”
Handing the handset back to Olga, he said, “I cannot believe they offered us men or women if we discover the Asian.”
“Most of the men and women I know would make good use of someone who wanted some hot, wet and sticky love making.”
“Good God, even you?” Vova asked as he met her eyes.
She licked her lips, gazed deeply into his eyes and replied, “No, not me. I want no male or female whore, but a real man I know. You will discover when we return how well I can please a man in many different ways, Senior Sergeant.”
“Enough, Olga! Private Yanovich, you are my point man, come to a heading of 120 degrees and remember the magnetic declination of Dallas/Fort Worth is -6.76°E. Keep the pace brisk. With the NVGs on there is no reason we cannot hunt all night. About an hour before sunrise, lead us to a good place, in trees or brush, so we can sleep during the daylight hours.”
“No problem, Sergeant.” the young man replied and took off at a good speed.
At 0200, there came a slight yell from Yanovich. Vova moved to the man and asked, “What is wrong? Why did you yell?”
“I am standing on a booby-trap.”
“What makes you think so? It has not exploded on you yet.”
“I felt something give under my right foot and then heard a click. It is a mine, but I have no idea what kind.”
The Sergeant squatted beside the young man, pulled his bayonet out and began digging. If he could uncover enough to see what kind of mine it was, then he'd have a better idea of what to do next.
Ten minutes later, his face sweating although it was not hot out, Ikovle asked, “Can you tell what it is yet? I am terrified, Senior Sergeant. I do not want to die this way.”
“No one does, but they do everyday here. Looks like a mine for tanks or personnel carriers. I do not think you armed it at all.”
“So, what does that mean . . . to . . . me?”
“Step off the mine.”
“Are you crazy? It will explode!”
“I am not crazy, but I can understand you thinking I am. No, honestly, step off the mine and remember I am right here beside you. So, if you blow up, I will too.”
“If you are one hundred percent sure, I will step off. When should I move?”
“Right now, step off.”
Yanovich stepped from the mine, but the instant his foot touch the dirt, he pushed a shotgun shell resting on a nail down and it exploded, sending pellets into his crotch and lower stomach. They were called toe poppers, and they did a good job of maiming a person. Usually the shot would hit a soldier in the lower belly or crotch, removing or damaging the person’s sex life. More than once in his career, he'd seen balls and penises removed by the cowardly mine. No soldier, male or female, wanted their sex organs rearranged by a shotgun shell.
Yanovich fell to the ground and began to scream.
“Medic!” the Sergeant yelled
“On the way!” Nititovich yelled in return.
As the medic leaned over the injured man, Vova heard a far off rifle shot and then turned to look at Nititovich when a large caliber round, probably a 30.06 struck him in the middle of his chest, pushed its way through his body and exited his back, taking blood, bone and gore with it. The medic collapsed without a sound, dead.
Grabbing the arm of Private Yanovich, the Sergeant pulled him as fast as he could into some brush. He then returned and grabbed the medics first aid kit. Once back in the brush, he put bandages on his balls and penis, lower belly and one eye.
Senior Sergeant Vova yelled for Olga and soon she was right beside him.
“Give me the handset, now.”
She handed it to him and waited.
“Hotel, Hotel, I have one man KIA, Kilo, India, Alpha, and one WIA, Whiskey India Alpha. The wounded has serious lower belly injury and needs a medical evacuation by helicopter, over.”
“Monsoon, wait one.”
“Roger, waiting.”
A minute later Hotel said, “I have a helicopter heading in your direction. His call sign is Nurse One, over.”
“Roger that. How many minutes is he away from me?”
“About six, and get ready to pop the flare end of a smoke flare. Hotel Actual said he will send a squad out to you in the morning. It will be led by a Captain Vera Grigorievna.”
“Copy. We will be ready when the aircraft gets here, over and out.”
“Get him ready to move.” he said as he looked at Povavich.
The Sergeant pulled a flare from his pack and waited.
The sound of a helicopter was heard and then the radio came alive, “Monsoon, Nurse One. How is the landing zone? Over.”
“Green, but we did have a sniper kill my medic, so watch your butt as you come lower.”
“Will do. I need a flare, and I will be lowering with my nose west, pointing into the wind.”
“Get him ready, and now. Katenka and Pavovich, pick him up and have him ready to place on the helicopter. Come closer to me and move toward the pilot’s door when you approach the aircraft. Stay where he can see you. A crew member will come out to help you.”
Both men nodded and picked the injured man up and made ready to do the job quickly.
“Monsoon, I am turning off my lights, so have your people rush the victim to me. My medic will help them get him on the aircraft. With my lights off, I am less of a target. I also have four replacement troops on board, and they now have orders to join you. They will unload first.”
“Roger that, copy.” Then looking at the two men holding the bleeding Yanovich, he said, “Now, rush in and out.” He watched them race for the helicopter and then in the darkness they disappeared. His flare spurted and spit and then the flame died.
“Nurse One, Monsoon, do you need another flare?”
“Negative, Monsoon. I have your patient and I am leaving now. I just took two shots to the side of the aircraft but all lights are still in the green. The ground fire came from the east, over.”
His engine grew louder and the Sergeant knew the helicopter was coming straight up, then he would nose down and begin to gain altitude.
“Copy that and good luck.”
“Same to you, Monsoon. I am hard to see and flying fast now, so we made it. You call and we haul your wounded to the hospital.” the pilot was heard to laugh, and Petr knew the man had been scared, but who wouldn't be?
While the man wore NVGs to land in darkness and then take off, it gave any man a real tight butt, and only the bravest would do something like that. The Sergeant made it a point of seeing the pilot was given a medal for his bravery.
“Where is Nititovich's body?” the Sergeant asked as he turned to look at his small group.
“Igorevich loaded him on the helicopter too. We cannot bury him and he was a brave man. His remains should be returned to his family.”
“You are correct in loading him.” The Sergeant replied and then added, “Saddle up, we need to be moving.”
Near 1400 the same day, a helicopter landed and 10 men and women joined the squad. The total now was 20 troops. After all the meeting and greeting, Vova met with Master Sergeant Adam Slavam and they discussed the control of the blended squads. As the senior man, Slavam had the responsibility of the squad, but he agreed to allow Petr the control and command. He would, however, keep a close look on the overall operation.
“Kartenka, get everyone ready to move. We have about four more hours of walking time before
we will be in the area I want to RON. Saddle up, all of you.” Vova stated.
Most of the new members were on their second tour in America, except for the Privates. They would soon come around to thinking like veterans or they would die. They found countless booby-traps and avoided all but one.
They had to cross a small, thigh deep stream and as they did so, there came a loud explosion as water was thrown high into the air. Men in the water screamed as the underwater booby-trap broke their ankles from the compression of the explosive. Two men died instantly when their bodies were torn to shreds by the grenade.
As the medic worked on three men with open wounds and injured ankles, the two top Sergeants began looking for evidence of what kind of booby-trap had been used. Finding an old soup can tied to a small tree beside the stream they both knew what had happened.
“What do you see, Senior Sergeant?” Yefim, a replacement asked.
“An old school booby-trap. See that can? A grenade with the pin pulled was placed in the can, a line was stretched across the stream and anchored on the far bank. Once a foot pulled the cord or line far enough the grenade was pulled from the can and exploded five seconds later. The partisans also knew anyone in the water would have their feet and or ankles injured. So one grenade killed two men and injured three others. Not bad for a booby-trap, and they may have knocked out five or six people.”
“The cost to the partisans was one grenade and some fishing line, huh?”
“They always strive to apply the most damage to their enemies while having no risk or cost to themselves.” Then, walking to his new medic, he asked, “How are they or is it to early to tell?”
“The wounded are all serious, but not life threatening. While two of the wounded broke both ankles, one woman has only one ankle broken with the other severely injured. We need a helicopter pick up for all the wounded and the dead. There is no way these people will be able to walk, no way.”
The Senior Sergeant said, “Olga, call headquarters and request a medical helicopter to pick up our wounded and dead. If they give you any shit, give the phone to me.”
“I will do it right now, Sergeant.”
Five minutes later, she walked to Petr and said, “Inbound medical helicopter to pick up our wounded and dead. Replacements will be onboard too.”
“Okay, listen up. I want everyone to move to the clearing on our left, but do not move out onto the grasses. I want you to take up positions to cover the landing zone (LZ) as the helicopter lands, loads, and then takes off.”
“Sergeant, I spotted movement on the other side of the clearing. They were too far away for me to determine who they are.”
“One man?”
“I really cannot say, but I believe it is a small group of soldiers.”
Chapter 8
John and his group, along with the Chinese pilot, were making a beeline straight to the front gate of the base. They all knew there were Russians in the area and they had spent the night sitting in a crude circle of bodies, back against back. Guards were assigned and the night had been uneventful, but everyone was tired now. The colonel estimated they'd be at the base in less than eight hours unless the clouds off to the west brought rain. It was late afternoon, so rain was very possible overnight.
“Cobra Two this is Copperhead, over.”
John took the handset and replied, “Go Copperhead.”
“Be advised of possible Russian unit in your area. Catfish One reported hearing an explosion and then seeing Russian troops moving near a clearing just a few minutes ago. He suspects a booby-trap wounded or killed some of the Russians.”
“Has there been a change in my orders?”
“No, your package is too valuable. We wanted you aware of what was going on is all, over.”
“I will keep my eyes open and we should be there tomorrow, so warn the guards at the main gate. Over.”
“The guards are already warned to expect you. Oh, one other thing. Chinese attack helicopters were out flying over you in a circle last night, out to ten miles from you, and they used their infrared radar. They counted twenty-three groups in the circle. Now a few were partisans, but how many? How many were Russian? We have no way to tell who was who, over.”
“Understand, and we'll do our best to not be seen. Over.”
“Roger that. Copperhead over and out.”
“Smith, you're my point man today and Prings, you're my drag. Keep the pace normal and keep an eye out for booby-traps, from either side.”
As the Russians walked, Slavam walked beside Vova and asked, “Our mission is almost insane. How can they honestly expect us to find this Asian when half the time we do not even know where we are, except in Texas?”
“It would be hard enough knowing where the man would be taken, but we do not even know that much. I assume it was to the base but I do not know for sure, and I am assuming which is a dumb thing to do in combat.”
“We have good troops, so that much is in our favor.”
“We need to hush. I have a rule that no one talks as we move, and I think it has saved our lives more than once out here.”
Slavam nodded but didn't speak.
It was four hours later when Leonid was on point when he knew suddenly he'd walked too far into the woods near the trail. Looking over his shoulder, he heard the sound of lots of gunfire and knew he'd led the squad into an ambush. While he'd seen nothing, heard nothing and smelled nothing, his senses had been at their highest when he'd walked through the trees behind him. He was alert then, but why? Since he'd seen nothing unusual, he'd kept going.
There were explosions and each brought screams from those injured and dying. He cautiously made his way back, noticing the gun shots were fewer now, and then, abruptly they stopped. He squatted behind some brush and saw most of the Russians on the ground. Then the Americans came out of the woods, pistols drawn, to quickly dispatch the injured.
One pistol shot was heard, followed by many more. Then silence.
An American called out to his friend and then they both laughed.
Leonid backed into the brush and listened. While he didn't speak English, except for the words, Cowboy and Horse, he knew the tone would tell him what he needed to hear. Within ten minutes the Russians were stripped of things the Americans wanted, like guns, rations, ammo, and watches. They then left. Twenty minutes later, the Private stood and made his way back to the killing trail and saw a number of white bodies laying on the trail, in many cases unnaturally. Clothing and boots had been taken as well, in some cases.
What do I do now? I am at a loss on what to do. I must get back to our base, but I do not even have a compass. I need to check and see if anyone here is alive, he thought as he neared the Senior Sergeant.
Petr was still alive and had taken a piece of shrapnel in his left arm. A bullet had creased his head and while the wound looked fatal, it was not.
Leonid quickly bandaged the Senior Sergeant and said, “I will be back. There may be more of us alive.”
The next person he found was Olga and while she was bloody as all hell, none of the blood was hers. Two of the Russian dead were laying on her, so she looked dead enough.
“Are you hit?” he asked.
“No, not at all, and I was terrified they would shoot me if they found me breathing.”
The next twelve were all dead and some in horrible condition. Ekel and Katenka must have been standing right in front of a claymore mine when it detonated, because they were torn apart. Leonid only recognize them by the heads of each. He did find six others alive, but two were near death. Firsov Sergei was missing his left arm, while a new woman, Mara Sabitove was missing her left leg. He placed a tourniquet on both victims and then looked the others over. The rifleman, Klokov Gavrila, was alive and had a minor wound to his back so out of seventeen, a total of seven remained alive.
Anfisa Petrovna, the drag man, walked up the trail and when he saw the dead, he said, “Oh, my God! What do we do now? I have no idea which way our home base is.”
“I do, and I will get us home too.” Senior Sergeant Vova said. “But, first we need to get away from this spot and hide. The Americans may return. Give me about five minutes to clear the fog from my brain and we will leave. It looks like all but Sabitove will be able to walk. Make up a litter for her and you two will have to carry her. Gavrila says he can walk. I will lead us to safety.”
“The radio is useless, Senior Sergeant. It has been shot to hell and back.”
“We need to see what we have to survive with.”
After ten minutes of looking, Private Leonid found a pistol and two clips of ammo near the body of Master Sergeant Slavam. He'd died with a bullet through his head. Then, Firsov Sergei began to shudder and as he attempted to sit up, he fell back to the ground, dead. Now there were six.
Private Petrovna found an AK-74 in the grasses, but only one magazine available for it and it was in the weapon.
Forty minutes later they stopped, and the Sergeant thought they'd covered about a kilometer. They were too tired to continue walking, especially the wounded.
“Move up under the trees and we will give everyone medical treatment. See to Gavrila first, he is bleeding an awful lot right now. I wish we had a radio, because the two hit hardest need to be in a hospital.”
“I will do what you ask, Sergeant.” Private Makarovich said, “I was a medic until I transferred to the infantry, who had plenty of medics but not enough riflemen. I will have Olga assist me in treating them.”
“Good, and let me know the condition of each person, please.”
“Will do and it will not take long. The two most serious have been given morphine to kill their pain, but it makes them sleep a lot. It is all we had, so it was use the drug and keep them quiet or do not and listen to them moan and cry all the time.”
“Okay. Just try to keep them comfortable as we wait for rescue.” the Sergeant said.
“There is a helicopter nearing, but we have no idea which side.” one of the Privates said.
Vova said, “Stay hidden until you see which side the aircraft belongs to. We do not want the Americans to know we are here and if we signal a Chinese attack helicopter they will soon know. I will go see and do what is required.”