by W. R. Benton
“Yes, sir, I fully understand. I will take care of your request immediately.” The Senior Sergeant replied. Typical officer, wants the credit for the kills when the aircraft could just fire one missile or use his cannons to kill a houseful of partisans. It is all politics for officers, and I am glad to be enlisted.
Waving his hand, to indicate to Delov to handle the situation, Dyomin thought, In the time they have been gone from here, even if they walked fast with no breaks, they must be within twenty miles. I will have the crews start twenty miles out and work inward. We will either check each building or send a missile into it. If I handle this properly, I am sure to make at least one promotion out of this war, or an early death.
The radioman and Delov walked to the Lieutenant, where the radio operator handed the headset to him and said, “The operations officer for the squadron wants to speak with you, sir. He needs some additional information about where to start this search.”
Dyomin quickly explained his idea to the Major on the other end of the radio and then waited for a reply. He knew the operations officer had to get the commander's approval before the search would start.
Finally, the Major said, “We will start looking today. We currently have three aircraft with thermal capabilities, but two are down for maintenance. I expect to have all three in the air before the end of the week.”
“Good. I appreciate your assistance, sir, and I think by working together we can achieve a great deal of success against the partisans.”
“We shall see, Lieutenant, but you have our support.”
Dyomin replied, “Thank you, sir.” He handed the headset to the radioman and then said, “Get the teams moving and do it now.”
As the teams walked in the general direction of John and his small group, Delov wondered, How many of these men will return alive? Most of my soldiers are boys and this game is about to become deadly.
The radio operator yelled out, “Lieutenant Dyomin, we are to return to base right away by order of Colonel Vetrov.”
“Load up the remaining men and let us move!”
Colonel Vetrov was in his office, his right arm in a sling and in pain, but the war was not going well for him. Over the last few weeks he'd lost well over a hundred men and had killed less than a dozen Americans, including the prisoner they'd had. His aircraft kept breaking down, his motor pool was having vehicle problems, and supply had yet to provide winter gear for his troops. He had a list of problems on a sheet of paper in front of him and beside it, on the same paper, a list of things going well. He had two things going well that he'd identified; his troops were all healthy and the attacks on the trains had ceased. He was unsure if the attacks had stopped because he now placed a tank on a flatcar to protect the trains, or if the partisans had moved on to other ripe targets.
Lieutenant Dyomin stood at attention in front of Vetrov and nervously licked his lips. The Colonel had exploded when told of the deaths of seven more men, but then grew quiet. It was the silence that scared the young officer.
“So, you have how many teams out searching for the American's, Lieutenant?”
“Twelve, sir, and I think by using the helicopters and my men, we can at least find the partisans. Then, working together we can kill them and maybe even get a prisoner or two.”
Vetrov looked at his papers, shook his head and then said, “Dyomin, I hope you realize both of our careers are riding on your teams right now. I am damned sure if we do not have some good word for Moscow soon, heads will roll, and they'll start with ours.”
“Y—yes, sir.”
“I want a helicopter to take you to a team, so you can keep an eye on how things are done. I also want Delov dropped off with another team. Now, listen to your Senior Sergeant, because he has been in the army longer than you have been alive. That means use the radio before you fight, and I want you to stress to your men that the partisans are experts with mines and booby-traps. Do you fully understand what your orders are?”
“Yes, sir, and I will discuss all plans of attack with my sergeant before I take any action.”
“Good. When you are in the field, keep in mind I will fully support you and if you have need of something, let me know. We must take the offensive and start improving our partisan body count, or our careers are over. I've warned you of our careers twice in this meeting, because the situation right now is most grave.”
“I will do my best, sir.” Dyomin replied and knowing the conversation was over, he saluted and left the room.
He found Delov talking to a guard at the prison camp gate and informed him of the Colonel's orders, leaving out he was to discuss any attack plans with the sergeant. He then said, “Arrange a helicopter, just one, to take us both into the field as soon as possible. We'll be delivered to two different groups. Once on the ground, contact me, and let me know you're in place and ready. Then, hopefully, we can find our targets.”
Thirty minutes later, both men were in flight. Delov was dropped off first, to a group of men near a creek, and Dyomin was released on the edge of a large field. The temperature was cool, but not really cold, and a light rain fell. After he'd been on the ground for half an hour, Delov contacted him and informed him they were moving.
Slowly the rains increased in intensity and all teams were forced to seek shelter for the night. Most of Dyomin's men felt uncomfortable with the young officer along and they complained about it among themselves as they made shelters from their shelter-halves. A guard was placed and the rest turned in for the night, some too tired to even eat.
It was near four in the morning when Dyomin was awakened by the radio operator. “Sir, one of the helicopters reports movement about 3 miles from us.”
The Lieutenant took the headset and spoke for a few minutes with the crew. Finally he smiled, handed the headset back and said, “Get the men up and ready to move. One of the aircraft with thermal imaging discovered a man coming and going from a rundown house near us. It seems he was looking for, or collecting, wood for a fire.”
A junior sergeant, who'd been the leader the day before, asked, “How many men are at this house, sir?”
“They have no idea how many are in the house; the images would be blocked by the building, but if they saw one clearly, there will be more inside. The aircraft cannot see inside buildings or other structures well and my guess would be less than ten men. Most of the cells we have run into have between six and ten men, right?”
“Hell, I have no idea, sir. I have yet to see a partisan, but I know they are good with mines and booby-traps.”
“You will see some this morning, Sergeant, and that's a promise. Get the men up and moving. I want them to eat and be ready to leave in less than an hour.”
“Yes, sir.” The Sergeant replied and began waking his men.
A little more than an hour later, the Lieutenant called the helicopter crew and asked them to stand by as they carried out the assault on the house. He was informed by the pilot that he had enough fuel to remain overhead, and another aircraft was to join him at sunrise. Dyomin grinned, because two choppers almost guaranteed success.
“Move the men toward the house, Sergeant, and make sure you place a man with good eyes on point. I want him to watch for mines or booby-traps. If he sees anything unusual, he is to stop and wait for me to evaluate the situation.”
“Understood, sir. Private Antipin, you have point and Private Zverev, I want you to bring up our rear. I want both of you to remember to keep your distance as we move, and Antipin, stay alert or we will be shipping your body home to momma. Let us move, people, but watch your spacing as we travel.”
Grunts and groans were heard as the men donned their heavy packs and moved in behind Private Antipin. Since they were not on a trail, the point man encountered no mines or traps, but he moved slowly through the woods. He held a compass in his left hand and tried his best to maintain the heading given to him by the Junior Sergeant. Just as dawn was breaking, he spotted the house and came to a stop.
He observ
ed the building and other than smoke coming from the place, he saw nothing. He looked for guards, saw none and then reported to the Lieutenant.
Antipin and Dyomin moved forward, both held their guns at the ready, because the situation looked too easy. Both men scanned the countryside, saw nothing out of place, and then they returned to the group.
Dyomin contacted the chopper and was informed there were now two aircraft on station. He informed the pilot that he intended to attack the house within a few minutes and once the attack was in progress, he was to assist if needed.
“I want Private Zverev to move before the rest of us. He will move to the window and toss a grenade inside. As soon as the grenade explodes I want all of us to enter and do the job quickly. However, I want the Sergeant and Antipin to move to the rear of the building to make sure none slip out the back. It's a two level home, so we will have to clear both floors.”
“When do we move, sir?” The Sergeant asked.
“Now, but I will give you ten minutes to get into position.” Dyomin looked at his watch and said, “On the hour the attack will start. Any questions?”
“Are we to remain at the rear at all times during the attack?” The Sergeant asked.
“Yes, do not move from your position until we have cleared the house and one of us waves you in.”
The Sergeant nodded and then said, “Come with me, Antipin.”
While they waited, Dyomin said, “Once the grenade explodes, Zverev, you kick the door in and we will enter.”
He has me doing many things in this attack, and I wonder if it is because he trusts me or if I am expendable? the Private thought as he pulled a RGO grenade from his pack. He should have Krayev walk to the window and fire two or three 43 MM grenades from the GM-94, if all he wants is dead Americans. Hell, the grenade launcher can fire three rounds fast too, he thought and then cursed his luck for having so little rank.
“Let us move, it is time.” Dyomin said and started forward. Zverev hurried to the front of the men and he'd just moved to the window when something struck him hard in the middle of his chest. He dropped the grenade and fell to his knees, as the sound of a single shot was heard. After a split-second, he fell forward, landing with his face in the mud. If this is death, he thought, it is not so bad. His world slowly turned to different shades of gray, until he was surrounded by darkness.
Dyomin glanced at Zverev and picking up the grenade the man dropped, he pulled the pin and tossed it through the window. Two more loud rifle shots were heard and a man dropped each time. The grenade exploded, sending smoke and dust from the broken window. Screams were heard inside the house and then the Sergeant and Antipin were heard firing at the rear. Someone kicked the door open and they began to enter.
Rifles started barking the minute they entered and seeing movement to his left, Dyomin twisted and saw an American with a pistol. Out of reflex, the Russian fired and saw the man knocked back against the wall, his body quivering as he fell to the floor.
The men began to yell as they cleared the house room-by-room.
Once the lower floor was cleared, the Lieutenant yelled, “Next floor, let us go!”
The first man on the stairs, unknowingly, pulled a thin line forward a few inches with his right foot, and the staircase exploded into flames. Dyomin's world instantly turned black.
Dyomin lay on the floor dazed and it was a few minutes before he was able to move. He sat up, looked around and saw most of his men were uninjured. With the Lieutenant down, most of the men were unsure what to do next. Blood ran down his arm, but he slowly stood and said, “Pull all bodies out of the house now!”
“Ours and the Americans?” Someone asked.
“All, and do it now.”
A few short minutes later, ten dead Americans and two Russians lay beside Zverev. One of the dead was Private Krayev, the GM-94 man.
Pointing at a private near him, Dyomin said, “Go through the house and move to the Sergeant. Let him know the second floor has not been cleared, but I will have the helicopter destroy this building.”
“What now, sir?”
“Take the bodies and move them into the woods. Then we will have the aircraft destroy this house.”
A lone figure stood near the upper rear window of the house and watched as a lone Russian moved into the woods. A couple of minutes later, two other Russians joined the man and they all moved toward the front of the farm house. As soon as all three men were gone, the woman opened the window and threw out a rope. She then lowered herself to the ground and made her way toward the woods. Once in the woods, she'd try to link up with their guard, who was a sniper in a huge oak about a hundred and fifty yards away.
Colonel Vetrov listened closely as Lieutenant Dyomin explained his attack and the results. They'd found five more American bodies once the house was brought under fire by the helicopters, so the attack looked like a great success for the Russians. There were fifteen dead partisans and only three Russian dead.
“You have done well, Lieutenant, and I think your career will go far, but we have only started to clean house, or so to speak. Much more must be done before we can say we control this area, but you have done well. I want many small teams, just like yours, out in the field, with overhead support from either jets or helicopters. I think by working together, we can soon train others to use your tactics in the whole state.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, get a shower, some hot food and a little rest. At 0400 in the morning I want you to lead your group back into the field. Well done, Lieutenant, and you will find a fresh bottle of vodka in your quarters.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“How many teams will be out at once, I mean in the morning, when I leave?”
“A dozen will be inserted at different compass points before dawn.”
“How many aircraft will be overhead? My concern is having sufficient air cover for all the teams.”
“That is a problem for the operations officer and his executive. However, keep in mind, our biggest problem now is not aircraft but fuel. The last few tanker cars were destroyed by the Americans. I do know we will have enough aircraft in the sky to support two fights on the ground at once, if that makes you feel any better.”
“It does, sir. My concern is protecting my men in the event we start a fight with a much larger group.”
“I understand, but the past shows the Americans in small groups. They usually hit and then run, so your biggest problem may be finding anyone to fight with, not running into a larger force. Any other questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Dismissed and the best of luck tomorrow, Lieutenant.”
CHAPTER 23
John and Top sat at a table in the kitchen and listened to Cheryl and Esom explain the attack on their house. Esom, not much of a talker, allowed the woman to explain most of the story and nodded at times. She then held up the GM-94 and said, “I found this on the ground floor once the Russians left and just before I was sent out. Harold told me to get out and find you, which I did, but soon after the house came under attack by a chopper using cannons. I could hear screams from inside the house and I wasn't even close.”
“Cannons are devastating to anything they fire on, and will make short work on a building.” Top said and then took a sip of his coffee.
“It damned sure didn't take it long to tear that farmhouse to hell and back.” Esom said.
“No, I guess it didn't. Listen, you two get some food in you and sleep. I'm sorry about what happened to Harold and the rest, but we're at war and these things happen.”
As soon as the two left the room, John said, “Looks like the Russians have finally got organized.” He pulled Dolly's head to his lap.
“One attack doesn't mean much, but I suspect they'll soon be out in force, knocking on doors. So, let's beef up our security around this place, plant a few surprises and have Barbara get a warning out to the other cells. Now, we both know we can't contact everyone, bu
t we'll do our best, and hope it's good enough. Willy will just love the fact the Russians are now on the offensive, because this way they'll bring the fight to him.”
Willy Williams had lost even more weight than the last time John had seen him and his thin face broke into a smile after Top told all he knew about the Russians. He thought for a few minutes and then said, “Ring each house with mines, booby-traps, and I want a good shot in a tree keeping watch during the day. Now, I'll remain here, but we're going to stir up a hornets nest, because we're going after the Russians.”
“While they'll think they're on the attack, we'll turn the table, huh?” Tom asked.
“I want toe-poppers, punji spikes, and booby-trap wires across streams, but under water. I want empty houses fixed so if someone opens the door, a trap with three stakes on it will swing down and injure those entering. The traps are simple to make, and I'll draw out some diagrams of the surprises this morning. However, to protect our folks, mark each house the same way and then pass the marking on to me. If we see the marking, we'll enter by another door.”
“Another good door trap is to mount an anti-personnel mine at the same level as the doorknob, so when the door swings full open, it contacts the mine mounted on the wall, and the resulting explosion takes a few folks out of the picture.” John added.
“Yep, I'd forgotten about that one, and I've seen it done a time or two. Also, don't forget to use a side-closing punji trap, where the trap is mounted on a hinge. When someone steps on it, the hinge causes the iron or wooden stakes to swing up contacting the person's leg. It's like a teeter-totter except it produces pain. Be sure to smear all barbs and stakes with human waste, because severe infections will result to those injured.” Willy said, and then asked, “Any other ideas?”
“We have some unexploded bombs and the like, do you want those rigged as well?”