by Chris Harris
Even though lightly armed with only small arms, squad support weapons, and some anti-armor rocket launchers, the major knew they would fight with a rage and purpose that would defeat a far greater force.
The issue they faced was logistics—they only had the ammunition they carried when they parachuted in, with no chance of a resupply. If the Chinese attack was large and sustained there was the real and worrying possibility of running out.
Everything was going to plan. A Chinese attack was not unexpected, but time was the issue that weighed heavily on the mission. The rangers and the SAS needed to buy them enough time, fighting any counterattack while the extraction needed to be timed properly to avoid the defense getting overwhelmed by the attack.
The rattle of small arms fire and a few explosions began as the runner returned. The drone showed that the attack was only coming from one direction so Major Bowden ordered the runners to go to the defenders covering the three other sides of the base to tell them what was going on and to send a quarter of their men to bolster those engaging the enemy.
The drone was a useful asset enabling him to monitor the battle. The leading two armored personnel carriers had been hit by rocket fire and were burning fiercely. The rangers had stopped the Chinese advance dead, but from his overhead view he could see more troops working their way forward using covering fire provided by the heavy machine guns on the remaining APCs. Two troops of SAS were dispatched when a unit of Chinese soldiers were spotted detaching from the main attacking force and began to work their way around the perimeter fence. The drone followed their progress until they were cut down by a volley of fire from his men.
The advantage was in the hands of the attackers. Unable to hit the APCs who were firing from behind cover, the Chinese had reorganized after the initial shock of being attacked and were slowly advancing. The outcome was inevitable, but the aim was not to win but to buy enough time. Reports from the runners kept him up to date and from the overhead images he could see the Americans were doing an excellent job, slowly retreating from the advancing Chinese, making them pay dearly for every yard they gained.
There was no point telling the men working in the building to hurry up. They would be working as fast as the conditions allowed and they would also be able to hear the gunfire and know that the clock was ticking. Feeling rather than hearing the approaching helicopters as they disturbed the air around him, the major searched the skies until the sound of their rotor blades cutting the air filled the sky, followed moments later by them skimming low over the rooftops. One flared for landing as the other hovered overhead.
The pilot opened the window on the cockpit and the major approached, crouching under the downwash, and put on the headset the pilot passed to him, enabling them to communicate. They had a brief conversation before the pilot applied power and the helicopter jumped into the air and the two dipped their noses and sped toward the battle.
Soon the sounds of their chain guns firing and rockets exploding filled the air.
The corporal operating the drone kept everyone updated on the progress as the helicopters swung the battle once more in the favor of the defenders, destroying the two armored vehicles with Hellfire rockets and strafing the soldiers with machine gun fire and volleys of Hydra unguided missiles.
The major called to his men as a single Apache flew overhead. “One of the Apaches will remain on station; the other is going to lead the others in. ETA about forty minutes.”
The corporal operating the drone shouted, “Tanks! Fucking loads of the buggers coming down the road. Looks like a lot of troop transport too.”
“Shit,” Bowden replied. “Corporal, are they approaching from anywhere else?”
“Not that I can see, boss. It looks as if they’re only coming down the one road.”
He turned to his runners who were standing near him. “Get all forces to the front gate. I want a fighting retreat back to here. Tell them we need one more hour. The Apache is good, but it will not be able to hold them back for long.”
He called the major leading B squadron and the captains to gather around. “Go and support the Americans. We haven’t got many AT4s,” he said, meaning the shoulder-fired anti-tank launchers, “so I do not need to tell you to use them sparingly. We need to hold them off for as long as possible. If that armor breaks through we are going to be on a bit of a sticky wicket.” He looked at his watch. “Thirty-five minutes gentlemen at least until the choppers get here. Good luck, chaps.”
The men were ready to go and in minutes had run toward the sounds of firing. Bowden then turned and ran toward the building to help the men inside clear the last of the debris as the corporal shouted, “Helicopter’s bloody hit, sir! Multiple anti-air missiles. It looks as if it got the lead tanks though. The other tanks have paused, but the soldiers are still advancing.”
Inside the building the gunfire and crump of explosions was muted. The door was almost cleared—there was just one more steel beam to remove and the soldiers were calculating the best angle to apply their explosive charges. They feared if they overdid it, the rest of the roof that was precariously holding on above their heads may come crashing down.
Judging they had it right, everyone moved to a safe distance before detonating the explosive charge, which to their relief worked perfectly, and the last obstacle was cleared from the door. The roof above looked in danger of collapsing imminently though, and the few remaining supports swayed and creaked as they fought against the weight bearing down on them.
The code to override the door lock was committed to Bowden’s memory and he inputted the eight-digit number into the keypad, watching with relief when the light changed to green and he could hear the internal mechanisms on the door releasing the bolts. The door pushed open as soon as it was unlocked, and a woman stepped out. She was wearing uniform with the insignia of a colonel on her shoulder boards.
Major Bowden saluted smartly, safely inside a windowless building and safe from any enemy snipers. “Good morning, Colonel. Major Benjamin Bowden of Her Majesties Armed Forces at your service. I believe you ordered a taxi? If you could gather your possessions it will be outside shortly.”
She looked shocked. Shaking his hand, she introduced herself. “Colonel Mary Wordsmith. You’re a Brit? The last communication we had before getting cut off was rescue was on its way. We could hear the explosions so knew something was up, but I never reckoned on being rescued by you lot. Anyway, you are here and that’s all that matters.”
“It’s not just us, ma’am. There is a batta—” He stopped as bullets peppered the building, punching holes through the thin metal sheeting. More guns joined in and the volume increased.
A fight was raging just outside the door. Major Bowden turned to his men and ordered, “Get out there and see what’s going on.”
He turned back to the colonel. “If you could just wait here, please? I’d better check what on earth is going on. Some of them must have sneaked through the perimeter we are trying to maintain until the choppers get here. If you could get everyone inside ready to depart along with whatever stuff you need to bring, I’d be grateful.”
As he turned away the colonel asked, “Do you need any of our boys? The two privates who were on guard duty when the bombs hit are down there.” She waved her hand at the doorway behind her.
“I think we are going to need everyone who can fire a gun if we are going to get out of here. Send them up.”
She called through the door and within seconds two men appeared both armed with rifles. They followed him as he strode toward the exit. Stopping at the doorway he crouched low and glanced out. His men were behind cover firing at a building across the open area.
He called to the captain nearest to him. “What’s going on, Tony?”
“Not sure, Ginge. I think it’s a small squad that somehow broke through the perimeter. I don’t think there are more than ten of them.”
“What happened to the men watching that sector?”
“Unknown currently. T
here was some contact the other side of the building then we came under fire. I can only presume they have been overrun.”
“Okay. We need to secure the landing zone. The choppers are going to be here soon. Lay down suppressing fire and I’ll work around their flank.”
He looked around and asked, “Where is the drone operator?”
“Over here, Ginge,” called the corporal who was lying prone, using a small tree as tenuous protection. “It’s gone. A round from one of the first volleys hit the control unit and buggered it up.”
Bowden let out a string of curses, venting his frustration at losing such a vital piece of equipment. “Troops one and two on me. Let’s get on with it and outflank these bastards. The rest of you keep their bloody heads down.”
Outgoing fire grew as every soldier opened up on the building the Chinese were occupying. Waiting until the incoming fire died down, the major led the two troops to some buildings also badly damaged to their right. They quickly worked around the back of these, leapfrogging forwards.
Verbal communications were not necessary. Using hand signals the elite soldiers silently and quickly worked their way to a building adjacent to the one the Chinese had somehow reached. It was not as damaged as others having missed a direct hit from the bombs.
“Okay lads. You know what to do. Split into your patrols. One window each, don’t fuck about with flashbangs this time. Chuck grenades in and standard CQB drill.”
He grinned, loving the close quarters battle acronym and how the words made him feel. “Which one of you lucky bastards wants me with them?”
The men trained continuously together. As their commanding officer he still trained with the men, but not with a particular troop or the smaller patrols within them. He would therefore be an extra man attached to one of the established tightly knit groups of warriors along with the small contingent of headquarters personnel acting as his permanent shadow.
“Ginge,” said one of the sergeants, “it would be an honor to babysit you. If you could keep the pointy end of your gun away from me and my mates I’d appreciate it though,” he said using the time-honored joke of soldiers ridiculing the competence of their superior officers.
“Thank you, Chalky. I’ll even let you buy the first round in the pub for that, you cheeky bastard. Right, come on lads. Choppers are inbound, let’s get this over with.”
The men split into their patrols and, crouching low, approached the building, each one gathering around a mostly glassless window. At a signal from the major two grenades were thrown through each. As soon as they exploded the men climbed through and entered the building. The Chinese, concussed by the grenades, did not stand a chance against such superbly trained soldiers who swept through the building, using speed and aggression; they killed everyone inside within thirty seconds.
After a second sweep though the rooms to ensure none had been missed, they gathered outside. The sounds of the battle were getting closer as the Chinese inexorably pushed the defenders slowly back.
“Well done, men. We can’t have them sneaking up on us again. If you lot could stay here and watch this sector, I’ll go and see how the others are doing. The recall signal will be my whistle.”
Indicating four men to follow him he ran toward the ever-closing sounds of gunfire. He found the major in command of B squadron; he, along with his men, was protecting the right flank of the line of defenders.
“Ginge? How’s it going back there?”
“Not too bad our end, Charlie. We’ve got the scientists out and the choppers should be here soon. We just had a little trouble with a few of our little friends sneaking up on us. Got a few of us I’m afraid before we dealt with them.”
“Yeah, sorry. I thought a few got past us, but I couldn’t send a runner, we were too heavily engaged. I can’t spread the boys out any thinner or we won’t hold the main force back. We have taken out their armor and they don’t seem to want to send any more at us, but they are tough little buggers. There are just too many of them and to top it all off we are just about out of ammo.”
Ben looked at an injured soldier being treated by another. “How many casualties?”
Charlie replied, his voice suddenly somber and full of emotion, “Three dead, five wounded and I don’t think two of them will make it. These scientists better be able to do what they bloody promised for the price my lads have paid.”
Ben nodded his head sadly in agreement as he briefly thought how many more letters he would need to write to wives or mothers before they were safely back in Canada. He slapped Charlie on the back.
“Come on mate, there’s still plenty of fight left in our boys. It won’t be long now. I’ll get your wounded back to the extraction point and get ready for the recall. I think when I call it, it’s going to get a little… interesting around here. I’m going to check on the rangers and then gather up the wounded.”
It took him a few minutes to find the colonel in charge of the rangers. His story was no different to Charlie’s. His men had fought above and beyond his expectations, repulsing attack after attack by hugely numerically superior forces. They had made the Chinese pay dearly for every inch of ground they had yielded to them but at a heavy cost to themselves.
His depleted forces were low on ammunition but not low on courage, stating they would fight them with rocks and fists before they let them get any closer. Ginge told him to start getting his own wounded back as they would be the first on the helicopters after the scientists. And to start planning and preparing for a rapid fall back when the order came.
Each carrying or helping a wounded man, Ginge and the men with him ran the few hundred yards back to their original location. The scientists were gathered outside, crouching behind any cover they could find, each carrying bags or rigid cases containing the materials and documents they would need to continue their work.
“Why aren’t you inside, Colonel?” he asked the lead scientist. “The building will at least offer you some protection. I cannot guarantee your safety as it is.”
“Major, I understand, but I asked your men to set explosives inside the lab. The materials and research it contains cannot fall into Chinese hands. They are doing it now and are concerned the building will collapse when the charges go off. So here we are.”
He looked at the building. “Okay. Just stay down and do what I or any of my men tell you.”
Three soldiers ran from the building shouting for everyone to clear the area. Seconds later the ground shook and a fireball boiled through the ruined roof of the building. It proved too much for its tenuous defiance of gravity and it collapsed, the remains of its walls falling in on itself.
He glanced at the captain who had led the demolition team. He was smiling, reveling in the destruction he had caused. Seeing the look on his commanding officer’s face, he intoned, “They don’t pay us to bring it back, Ginge.”
Shaking his head, Ginge replied, “Bloody idiots, the lot of you. Right then, you three have just earned the privilege of collecting half of everyone’s remaining ammunition and distributing to those on the perimeter.”
The captain lifted a bag he was carrying. “I took the liberty of clearing out the arms locker in the guard room of the lab before we blew it up, Ginge. There was a fair few mags of .556 and a 9 mil pistol in it, so I thought it may come in useful.”
He smiled at the captain this time. “Bertie, you are forgiven. Get some of it to the Yanks too. They are running as low as our lads are.”
The three men went around the few remaining members of the squadron guarding the extraction point and took spare magazines from them, stuffing them in to the bags that had contained the explosives before running off toward the sounds of firing which was building in intensity as the defenders gave their all to hold the line.
They waited.
Five tense minutes later the air once again reverberated with the sound of helicopters approaching fast. The Apache roared low overhead and circled the extraction site. Ginge ran into the open waving his
arms to get the attention of the pilot. Using basic communication by waving his arms around he conveyed the mission was successful and for him to support the soldiers on the perimeter. Giving the thumbs up the pilot banked the helicopter steeply and seconds later the sounds of its chain gun firing and rockets exploding rose above the continuous clattering of small arms fire. Seconds later the distinctive heavy whop-whop-whop of Chinooks approaching cut through the air as three of the large twin rotor helicopters swooped in low and landed quickly and heavily.
The four Blackhawk helicopters that had been flanking them remained hovering overhead, their door gunners firing toward the attackers. Spent bullet casings poured from the sky as a solid stream of heavy lead was sent toward them. Running toward the scientists he got a few of them to help the wounded soldiers. Dragging the slower ones, he and his men quickly got them all on board and gave the signal to take off as he stepped off the ramp.
Buffeted by the downwash he watched as it sped away over the ruined base, the crewman operating the rear gun blazing away in the direction of the Chinese.
He stood, listening to the continuous roar of battle, trying to judge from the noise how it was progressing.
Right then, he thought. Mission accomplished. We are fighting for ourselves now.
He turned to the runners. “Hopefully the choppers will give us the breathing space we need to pull back. Go and tell them to start extricating themselves. We will hold the inner perimeter to cover them. This is going to be a close-run thing so tell ’em no fucking about or they may get left behind.”
Positioning themselves in a cordon around the helicopters he and his men placed spare magazines within easy reach and prepared themselves for what they fully expected to be a desperate few minutes.
Within minutes the first rangers appeared. They were the walking wounded, some helping each other they staggered bloody, battered, and filthy toward the waiting helicopters. Some Ginge noticed had their main weapons slung and were holding their sidearms in their hands showing they had expended all their ammunition and were down to holding back the advancing horde with only pistol rounds.