by W. R. Benton
I then pulled my flare gun and load it with a cartridge. I raised it overhead, pulled the hammer back, and sent a parachute flare with a 40 second burn time high into the air. It was then I heard screaming and looking below, I saw my troops rushing the entrenched Russians. I heard very little fire from the Russians and suspected they were scared shitless.
My troops were near now, and some were already among the Russians and firing into fox holes. Then a Russian machine-gun opened fire. I was confused by the tat-tat-tat, because I saw none of my troops falling. One of our flamethrowers sent a long spurt of fire toward a Russian machine-gun and the crew was engulfed by flames. The gun stopped firing.
“Copperhead One, this is Copperhead three, and four Russians have fled north by east. Should we follow them?”
“Negative. Finish your work there and then pull out, but only after taking all gear and supplies we can use. Be sure to bring the machine-gun and all ammo for the weapon.”
“Will do, Copperhead One. Copperhead three out.”
I heard the screams of the dying and the victory yells of my troops. I handed my radio to my radioman and then walked toward the battle. I saw two Russians make a run, and they were immediately cut down by rifle fire. The battle had been fairly easy for my troops, but only because they were dealing with inexperienced Russian soldiers. Bodies were ripped apart, blood pooled all around the meadow, and the cries of the wounded were pitiful, regardless of the side they were on.
“Johnson,” I yelled.
“Yo?”
“Get me a body count of the dead and wounded for both sides.”
“Will do.”
I then walked to a dead partisan and found myself looking into the eyes of Sergeant Banks. From what I could see, she'd taken a machine-gun bullet to her chest. Her eyes were open, but rolled up in her head, so only the whites showed. I squatted, closed her eyes and then rolled her over. The big bullet had taken a big chunk of her spine too. She'd died instantly, thank God, but I'd miss her. She was a good worker, and I suspect, a very lonely young woman. I wondered how many more young men and women would sacrifice their lives to gain the freedom of America? Was it worth the cost? I think so and so did those who died, or they'd not have been fighting.
“Sir, our big brother, the Chinese, report a flight of attack helicopters heading our way with an ETA of about fifteen minutes.”
“I understand. Load it up and let's move, people! In fifteen minutes the Russians will be here, and they'll be pissed. Move! Private Taylor, you take point and Dobins, I want you on drag. Let's get out of here and now.”
Suddenly out of nowhere a Black Shark chopper lined up on us, and we scattered to the four winds. The bird came in hot, Gatling guns spitting death, and as the guns fired, I saw clods of dirt thrown ten feet in the air.
“Move, people, before he can come back around on us! Now!”
Chapter 9
Captain Georgiy was as mad as a wet hen. There were only four left alive out of his company after the partisan attack. He was sure he'd be disgraced and sent home because most of his troops were killed in their fox holes as they huddled in fear. Ira, the medic, was with him, as were Privates Beshov and Enya. The last two had minor injuries, but they must have hurt. Ira had given both of the wounded codeine pills for pain, but no morphine. Morphine would make them sleepy and, right now, as the attack helicopters and fast movers worked the partisans over if they found them, they needed to be covering some distance.
“Have you stopped their bleeding?” he asked.
“Yes, I have, but it could start again with them moving like this.” she replied.
“Once we stop, I need you to look at my left arm. I have a rag around it now and the bleeding is nothing to worry about. I will stop in a few minutes for a brief rest. I do not want to stop, but you can look all of us over, and we will need food this day.”
“Do you need something for the pain?”
“No, the pain is nothing. I just need you to clean it and wrap me well. I do not need an infection.”
It was getting close to daylight now, and the Captain took a short break as the four of them ate something. Once the cold meals were behind them, Ira cleaned his wound and insisted he take a pill for his pain, but he'd refused. The wound was from a small caliber pistol and was a flesh wound. Ilik carried two canteens; one contained water and the other vodka. If his pain grew to a difficult level, he'd drink some of his strong clear liquid.
Pulling the handset from the radio to his head, Georgiy said, “Base this is Rugby One, over.”
“Go, Rugby One.”
“My position was overrun by partisans. From the looks of things, our survivors can all load into one helicopter. I have four survivors, counting myself, and the rest are estimated to be dead. Warn all Russian aircraft that other survivors may be in the area.”
“Uh, copy Rugby. The Colonel wants to see you as soon as you return.”
“Can you send a helicopter to pick us up? Three of us are wounded.”
“Wait one.”
The Colonel will eat my ass for lunch, but there was nothing I could do. There were just too many partisans and they struck in the middle of the night, he thought as he said aloud, “He will not get a virgin when he chews on me.”
“What is that, sir?” the medic asked.
“Nothing, just talking to myself.”
“Rugby One, you will have a helicopter at your location within fifteen minutes. They have requested you move to a field large enough for them to sit down in. Do you copy?”
“Uh, roger that, and we will move north a little, maybe 100 meters. Send them and I will contact them by radio as soon as I hear them.”
“Copy and ETA is fifteen minutes, out.”
“Let us move, because our ride home is coming for us.”
When the chopper landed, the four moved for the open doors from the front of the aircraft so the pilot could see them. They entered the doors and strapped down in the red passenger seats. The medic gave Privates Beshov and Enya shots of morphine, but Georgiy refused the powerful drug. He had a Colonel to face and didn't want to do the job while on a strong drug.
As the helicopter started to raise up, a long line of machine-gun bullets walked from the nose to the tail. The co-pilot screamed and collapsed, and one of the door gunners took a round to his helmet. The gunner fell on his back with his whole face missing, and he trembled and shook as his body shut down.
Smoke poured from the engines as the aircraft fought for height moving forward and up. There sounded a pop-thunk, pop-thunk, and two holes opened in the floor near the open door, the bullets missing everyone but rupturing some lines overhead. A hot oily substance began to leak.
After they'd gained a couple thousand feet, the other gunner handed a headset with microphone to the Captain. He quickly showed him how to use it.
“Captain, is there anything we can to do help you?” he asked the aircraft commander.
“Pray, Captain, just pray. I am busy up here, so we will talk later.”
Georgiy heard a jet pilot say “Where did you take the ground fire, Save One? This is Mongoose One and my wing-man, Mongoose Two, over.”
“All around the field where I picked up the survivors. But, most from the west.”
“Roger that, so I am rolling in hot with napalm and missiles.”
“Good luck.”
They heard nothing and then a few minutes later, the jet pilot said, “This is Mongoose Two, I caught about forty of them out in the open. What a day! I dropped napalm on them. Uh, I am going back around, because I see more of them.”
“Watch your ass, Mongoose.”
A couple of minutes passed and then the radio came alive. “Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Mongoose One and I am punching out, now!”
“Base, Mongoose Two, and he has a good chute and he is well away from the fire from the napalm. I suspect we will need another helicopter to pick him up. I have enough fuel to remain on station and assist as needed.”
The helicopter pilot changed frequencies and said, “Tower, I am claiming an in-flight emergency and I am coming straight in. I will land once over the fence. Almost every light on my console is red or not working, so I expect to fall out of the sky any second. I need emergency vehicles moving now, and we will meet off the nose of my aircraft approximately 100 meters, out.”
They barely cleared the base fence and it sounded like the rear of the aircraft, near the tail, actually struck the fence. The nose came up and as the aircraft was landing, all power was lost. The bird fell to earth like a heavy rock. The pilot immediately switched all electrical power off before they touched the ground. They hit hard, with the impact jarring everyone inside. Georgiy, with a bad back, could hardly move as the pilot screamed for everyone to leave the helicopter. A quick check of the gunner showed him dead, and the copilot as well. Blood was streaked through the aircraft by the wind, and it now looked as if someone had painted the red lines.
When the ambulances arrived Georgiy tried to avoid the hospital, but he was given an IV and then morphine. Everyone from the helicopter was taken for a physical exam. At some point before the hospital, he fell asleep.
Three days later Georgiy was well enough to have visitors. His bullet wound had become infected and he'd slept more than usual. He'd been awake most of the time, only the painkillers really messed up his thinking and talking. He noticed every minute she had away from work, Lena would sit by his bed in a chair and talk with him. Even when working, she'd come by at least once a day to check on his progress.
On the third day a Full Colonel walked into his room, and moving to the side of his bed asked, “Captain Georgiy, what happened to your unit?”
“We were hit by a very experienced company size force and they chewed us up and spat us out, is what happened. 96% of my troops had never been in combat before, and then once the battle started they were killed in their fox holes as they cried for their mommas. You and I killed those troops, Colonel, as sure as if we had pulled the trigger.”
“Well, I hardly think —”
“Colonel, he is on painkillers and morphine, so he can hardly be held accountable for what he says to you, sir. I personally do not think you will get much useful intelligence from him. I suggest you come back in a few days.” the doctor said.
“I guess, but if he should come around before then, please call this number.” as he handed the doctor a business card, “so we can speak with him. He lost almost 100 people and we need to know how that happened.”
“Sir, no disrespect intended, but he just told you what happened. His exact words to you were 'We were hit by a very experienced company size force and they chewed us up and spat us out, is what happened.” I seriously doubt he can add much to that.”
“Lieutenant, I think you should go back to your job of plugging holes as we fight the war. There was much more to it than that, I assure you. Good day.”
The doctor nodded, but didn't reply.
The next morning Georgiy wanted to speak with the intelligence folks. A Major soon arrived with a Senior Sergeant. He explained what had happened, how his troops were terrified of the fight and how most were killed in their fox holes.
When it was all said and done, the Major asked, “Captain, you are a highly decorated war hero and we know you are no coward, so how did this happen? In your opinion, what can we do to prevent this from happening again?”
“Mix people up in units so you have more than two or three experienced troops in a company. If I had had twenty more experienced soldiers, I would still be fighting those partisans. Teach them more and better before they leave Russia. I do not feel so much as a company commander as I do a babysitter most of the time. Send me tougher men and women. Now, you need to leave; I am feeling tired.”
The Major appeared shocked by the Captain telling him to leave, but the doctor had warned both of them that the man was on some strong drugs and might say anything.
Finally, the man nodded and said, “Come Senior Sergeant, we will learn nothing more from this man.”
As the two left, Georgiy smiled, and thought, Why is it so easy for men and women who sit in a chair all day to judge those of us who fight for a living? A million things can go wrong in combat and some you cannot control. But, until they train our troops better and mix them with our experienced combat troops the deaths will continue.
A month later, Lena came by to visit and said, “Seems like I see you more often in a hospital than I do out of one.” She then gave a little girl giggle.
“I am being released tomorrow and will convalesce in my quarters, again. Feel like visiting me a while?”
She laughed and replied, “I have been living there, just so I can smell you in the room with me. Sure, I will visit you, and even help you leave here in the morning. I have a girlfriend who is a driver for a Colonel, and she will come by the hospital and drive us to your place. I do not think you need to wait for the bus, and you for sure cannot walk home.”
“L . . . Lena, we need to talk when we are alone.”
“Uh-oh, is this a we need to talk as in I have done something wrong or a we need to talk about something good?” Her eyes met his.
“I love you, so you decide if that is good or bad.” He knew it was the drugs talking, but he did love her.
“Oh, is that all? I have known that for months, but this is the first time you have said it to me. I happen to love you too, even if you are a bullet magnet.”
A nurse walked in, nodded at Lena and asked, “How is your pain level, Captain?”
“Low, so about a two out of ten.”
She nodded and said, “Good, I will not give you any more morphine because you have been in the vodka for your pain. Now, do not deny it, because I can see the bottle under your pillow.”
Master Sergeant Romanovich entered the room, smiled and said, “Wow, you have two beautiful women looking after you, so maybe I need to leave, huh? You always were the lucky one, Ilik.”
Everyone laughed and Georgiy said, “Come into my room and tell me the latest rumors about the war.”
“This is no rumor, but truth; the director of our chemical/biological sections, a Full Colonel Denisovich, was taken prisoner by the partisans. They have offered to trade him for 200 prisoners from the gulag.”
“Surely we will not trade with them, right?”
“I have no idea, but the Colonel is supposed to be an expert in chemicals and such. I heard he could make poison gases if need be because of his university education. Enough of that talk.” Romanovich said, smiled, and then pulling a pint of vodka from his pocket, he tossed it to Georgiy, and added, “Painkiller, and it will do you more good than morphine will.”
Lena laughed and said, “I cannot believe you gave him alcohol with two nurses in the room.”
“He gets out in the morning, so he is off the heavy drugs already. Besides, what would the army do to a Master Sergeant? I have more power than many Generals and everyone knows it, too.”
Laughing, the nurse said, “I must continue my rounds. If you need anything, Captain, use the call button.”
“I cannot stay long, my friend, because I am leaving for a couple of days on a mission. When I return, we will meet and share a few drinks. Bring Lena too, so we will have some good food.”
“You watch your ass out there, Boris, because the partisans are fighting smarter these days. I think it may come from the Chinese supplying them and supporting them in the field. One thing I can tell you, it did not take them but a few minutes to kill all but four of my troops. Take no risks, and you may come back alive.”
“I hear you, my friend, but most of my troops are veterans of one or more previous tours in the United States. Some have served in other states, so some of the methods used by the resistance may be different, only not by much. I am an old war dog, and I will be back.”
Early the next morning, right as the sun started to rise into the sky, Russian helicopters were landing in a large field near Licking, Missouri, a sm
all one horse town. They were a good mile from the town's post office, but shielded by a thick forest of mixed walnut and oak trees. It was a company size mission, so the helicopters would be making more than one trip.
Romanovich was in the first group of helicopters and as they began their descent, the pilot was heard saying over the radio, “Uh, base, Eagle Six here, and I am taking ground fire. I repeat, the landing zone is hot.”
The Master Sergeant had been given a headset to listen to the radio communications.
There sounded a loud bang, and a large piece of aluminum was seen passing the open door on the right side. The helicopter began to smoke.
“Abort, Eagle Six, this is Eagle One.”
“I do not have that option, Colonel, because I have to put this baby on the ground, and now! Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Eagle Six and I am going down.”
Romanovich heard a loud series of ping-klunks, and when he glanced around, bullets were punching holes in the aircraft's skin. Suddenly, the man sitting across from him went rigid, his eyes grew huge, and then a bullet exited his chest to strike some aluminum lines above him. Blood was running down his chest from a large exit hole and when he opened his mouth to scream, blood poured from his lips and ran down his chin to drip onto his chest. Not a sound came from the injured Private, but his body jerked and twitched.
What a rough way to die. I think he was shot in the butt, and the bullet traveled most of the length of his body to exit his chest, the Master Sergeant thought as he shivered.
“Pilot to crew, we are going to hit hard, so brace yourselves.”
The helicopter seemed to fall the last four feet and landed on its wheels, leaned hard to the right shattering the spinning blades overhead, and then righted itself. It came to a stop upright, but with the rotating blades slowing because all power to the aircraft was cut to avoid fires.
With the engines quiet, the pilot yelled, “Everyone to the infantry, and move! I suspect this aircraft will soon draw a lot of ground fire.” There was a lot of ground fire taking place already, in Romanovich's view.