Battlefield Ukraine

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Battlefield Ukraine Page 17

by James Rosone


  The Specialist who had been sitting next to him interjected, “Sergeant, the Russian aircraft are about to cross into Ukrainian airspace--are we cleared to engage?”

  Sergeant Troy paused for a second and looked at Specialist Matthews, who appeared to be moments away from completely freaking out. “Listen up, when those Russians cross the border, we are going to start engaging them with our missiles. If they launch any cruise missiles, then we are going to switch targets and go after those instead. Remember your training, and just do what we have practiced a million times. There are alert fighters being scrambled right now and other fighters above us. We do our part, and let them do their part OK?” he said, trying to calm his fellow soldier’s nerves down and keep him focused.

  A minute later, the Russian aircraft began to cross into Ukrainian airspace, heading right for them. Trevor nodded towards Specialist Matthews, who lifted the cover off the firing button and began to discharge the first pod’s worth of missiles. In seconds, the pod fired off its volley of Surface-to-Air Missiles at the incoming Russian aircraft. They switched to the second pod of missiles and began to lock on to additional aircraft; then they fired off that pod’s worth of missiles as well.

  All of a sudden, they spotted a volley of cruise missiles being fired from the Russian bombers.

  “Oh crap--that’s a lot of cruise missiles,” Sergeant Troy thought. “We don’t have enough missiles to stop them all.”

  Noah immediately blurted out, “We’re changing targets. Let’s go after those incoming cruise missiles. Hopefully we can thin them out a bit.” He was not feeling at all confident in their chances. Even under the best training circumstances, they could not get the spent missile pods reloaded in enough time to reengage the incoming missiles and aircraft.

  Just as they began to switch targets and go after the incoming cruise missiles, they felt the concussion of a massive explosion rock their vehicle. Overwhelming noise from the blast soon followed. Then, the roof of their vehicle imploded, and their worlds went black as a mortar round scored a direct hit on their radar truck.

  Lieutenant Mattie had just walked out of the operations center when the radar truck exploded. She was shoved to the ground by the shockwave from the blast, right before her ears were overpowered by the boom from the mortar. As she laid there on the ground, stunned for a second, she caught her breath and then heard the C-RAM’s 20mm cannon open fire on additional incoming mortars, too late to save her soldiers in the radar vehicle. Several additional explosions could be heard from rounds that were still getting through the C-RAM. She pulled herself up to see soldiers running to different fighting positions and protective bunkers. It was controlled chaos as the base began to respond to the attack.

  *******

  Colonel Joe Jenkinson had arrived at Pryluky Airbase twenty-four hours ago as part of the advance party for elements of the 82nd Airborne. The Division had started to arrive in country to help reinforce the 2nd Cavalry Regiment and the 173rd Airborne, which had already deployed to the field. Colonel Jenkinson had just walked into the operations center to meet with the base commander, when the air raid sirens began to wail. He looked around and saw the highest-ranking officer in the operations center was an Air Force Major. The base commander must still have been on the way.

  “Major Dusty, we have incoming Russian aircraft!” yelled a young female lieutenant as she walked into the operations center. All eyes turned to face her, not sure what to make of what she just said.

  Major Dusty was the base’s operations officer; this was his second month in Ukraine, so he had gone through this type of drill many times. He knew the next few minutes were going to be critically important to the survival of the base if this was the main attack they thought might happen. He turned to one of the NCOs from flight operations. “Order the alert fighters to scramble immediately. Flush the rest of the fighters from the base right away, and get our helicopters airborne!” he barked.

  As orders were being issued to the various groups throughout the base, the C-RAM system began to engage an unseen target. Then, a loud explosion shook the building. A tense moment went by before another powerful blast shook the building, only this time, they heard shrapnel hitting the outer walls, and debris must have been raining down on the ceiling above them.

  “Everyone get your IBA on, we are under attack!” Major Dusty yelled.

  Colonel Jenkinson moved quickly to the major, grabbing hold of his arm to get his attention. “Get me a radio to the QRF now!” he said. The major just nodded and pointed to one of the soldiers manning a bank of SINCGAR radios.

  The colonel walked over to the soldier. “Hey, I need the radio to the helicopters,” he said.

  The soldier nodded, then handed him one of the handsets he had just used. “This one is setup to talk to the Apaches right now,” he responded.

  Colonel Jenkinson picked up the radio and let them know to head to a specific area, not far from the base and look for the enemy mortar team. One of the first things Colonel Jenkinson had done when he arrived at the base was to look for where the Russians would most likely set up their mortars or launch attacks. Once the rest of his unit arrived, he had planned on placing several listening posts in those areas to watch them. Unfortunately, the rest of his unit wasn’t going to arrive for a couple more days.

  *******

  Major Igor Yelson’s men were ready to attack the Americans. They had moved into position less than an hour ago, as soon as they had been given the attack orders. He had had his men split up into several teams. He had two mortar teams that would attack the American air defense systems, while one of his ground teams would pour a ton of heavy machine gun fire at the perimeter, in hopes of drawing the American soldiers out in the open once the cruise missiles would start to hit.

  Major Yelson’s main concern was the Apache helicopters that his scouts had identified. They would need to take those choppers out quickly or they would shred his force. To counter the Apaches, he had six of his soldiers ready, equipped with the newest MANPADs available, the SA-25 “Willow.” Yelson knew the American helicopters would come for his mortar teams, so he had the MANPADs positioned just right to take them out.

  “It’s time,” Major Yelson announced. “Start hitting the base with the mortars,” he ordered one of his lieutenants.

  The lieutenant nodded, lifted a radio to his mouth, and spoke a single word.

  In seconds, they heard the first thump, thump, thump, of the mortars being fired. Then, they heard a noise they were not expecting. It sounded like a piece of linen being torn or ripped apart. Then they saw two strings of tracer fire emanating from the base into the sky where their mortars had just fired.

  An explosion could be heard as the first couple of mortars hit. There was a pause, and then a secondary blast could be heard as the next group of mortars hit.

  “Those blasted Americans,” thought Igor. “They must have set up an anti-mortar-rocket system.”

  At least some of the mortars were still getting through though, because they were still hearing additional explosions within the base. Then, the unmistakable sound of chopper blades slapping rhythmically rose above the din. Major Yelson squinted as he looked off in the distance of the runway; he saw an Apache helicopter taking off and start heading in their direction. He also observed a pair of fighters hit their afterburners as they raced down the runway to get airborne.

  As the first Apache got closer to their positions, it let loose a slew of anti-personnel rockets at one of his mortar positions. In that instant, he thought to himself, “This is it. My mortar team is doomed.”

  Then, Major Yelson saw the first of his MANPADs fire from the tree line towards the helicopter, then a second. The helicopter moved incredibly quickly and somehow evaded the first missile, but was hit by the second one. Igor thought the helicopter would have blown up or crashed, but it resumed its attack on his men. In seconds, it was nearly on top of his second mortar team, when another MANPAD reached out and nailed it. The helicopter
began to spew smoke and flames, and quickly turned to head back to the base. It only stayed aloft for a few more minutes before it made a hard-crash landing at the edge of the perimeter.

  Just then, the cruise missiles started to hit the NATO base, exploding across the runways and then the rest of the base buildings. Major Yelson smiled, knowing that his unit had done their part; they had helped to eliminate the Patriot missile battery, which was the only real threat to the air raid now destroying the base.

  He picked up his radio and ordered, “Disengage. Return back to our rally point. We need to regroup, rearm, and get ready for our next mission.”

  *******

  Captain Ian Hawk had been getting his Apache ready for a routine flight when the base alarm went off. They received an alert, letting them know of a possible Russian air raid, and telling them to get airborne as quickly as possible.

  Captain Hawk closed the window to the cockpit and began to bring the helicopter to full power. In less than a minute, he began to steer out of their revetment towards the taxiway while continuing to gain power. Then, he saw the C-RAM system fire at an unseen target towards the opposite side of the base. A voice came over the radio and told them to head towards a specific grid to see if the mortar team was near there.

  Ian applied power to the helicopter and began to fly towards the coordinates he was given. He got the attention of his gunner, at the front of the chopper, “Hey Tom, if you spot that mortar team before I do, engage them with the rockets and take them out. We can’t let them walk those rounds in on the runway.” Captain Hawk was concerned about the pair of F-15s that were beginning to head towards the end of the runway to take off.

  Suddenly, he spotted a projectile flying from a small clearing near some wooded areas, roughly two kilometers from the base perimeter. “Over there! Hit them with the rockets quick!” Hawk yelled to his gunner, who proceeded to let loose a number of their anti-personnel rockets. As Tom was firing the rockets, Hawk increased speed and started to race towards the position, betting there were additional enemy soldiers in that area.

  As he moved closer to the Russian positions, his air defense alarms began to growl in his ears, and then a blaring alarm overpowered him. Before he could even react, the helicopter’s automated defense began to spit out flares and it jerked hard to one side, just in time for him to watch an enemy missile fly right past them. Then, they felt a sudden jolt and heard the explosion. All kinds of alarms began to go off in the cockpit of the helicopter.

  Tom continued to stay focused on engaging the ground soldiers, who were now shooting at them. Hawk regained control of the helicopter, hitting the fire extinguisher on the engine that was damaged. He pulled the helicopter into a hard-right turn as he looked to gain some altitude and pull them away from the ground fire. Then, several more missiles raced towards their position. Captain Hawk fired off more flares and jinked hard from side to side, trying to evade the new missiles.

  Suddenly, the glass canopy above him exploded. As soon as he stopped shielding his face from the falling shards of glass, Ian realized that his left arm didn’t work. His right leg was on fire, and there was smoke pouring into the cockpit from the engine intake above him. Hawk turned the helicopter back towards the base, trying to get them back to safety. He attempted to use his left hand to reach for the fire extinguisher, but it still wouldn’t work. He looked down and saw his left hand had been severed and was squirting blood. As he tried to bring the helicopter in for an emergency landing, he lost too much blood, and lost consciousness.

  *******

  Several of the F-15s fought to gain altitude and engage the enemy fighters just as the first wave of cruise missiles began to arrive. The C-RAM switched from engaging the mortars to the cruise missiles and threw a sheer wall of 20mm rounds at the incoming missiles, destroying dozens of them.

  However, while the C-RAM was occupied with the incoming missiles, several pairs of Su-34s began to release a series of JDAMs on the airfield. They specifically targeted the C-RAM system, the base communication systems, power generation, command and control buildings, and the dozens of US and NATO aircraft and helicopters that were trying to get into the air and join the battle.

  As the airbase’s defenses went down, the waves of enemy cruise missiles and JDAMs began to systematically destroy the base and hammer units of the 2nd Cavalry Regiment and 173rd Airborne that were not already dispersed at their marshalling points away from the base.

  While the base was under air and ground attack, two Russian surveillance drones loitered not far away, providing exceptional video coverage of the attack. The recordings from these drones would be immediately used by the Russian psychological operation groups and Russian media to produce graphic and gripping descriptions of the battle. This, of course, would be promulgated across social media to the entire world.

  While the initial air battle was over, NATO’s two Patriot batteries had successfully shot down sixteen Russian aircraft and fourteen cruise missiles; however, they were still destroyed. NATO’s most potent air defense system had been destroyed in the first thirteen minutes of the war. The Ukrainian air defense systems had fared slightly better, shooting down seventeen Russian aircraft before they were taken offline. Still, the defeat was demoralizing.

  30,000 Leagues Under the Sea

  Northwestern Turkey

  Bosphorus Strait

  Admiral James Munch was extremely nervous as his carrier strike group began to exit the Bosphorus into the Black Sea. They were entering the Russians’ pond, and he had a bad feeling the Russians had a nasty surprise waiting for them. Several of his destroyers and frigates had reported the presence of multiple submarine contacts, and so did the two attack submarines that were escorting his strike group. Although he had thirteen cruisers, destroyers, frigates and submarines in his strike group, all of the intelligence leading up to today indicated that war with Russia was imminent, and no amount of force was ever “enough” when beginning a conflict.

  Captain John Miller, the captain of the USS Bush, found the Admiral in the Combat Information Center (CIC) and handed him a message. “Sir, the O'Bannon has positive contact on four Kilo submarines and two Akulas. They had contact with an Oscar, but lost it about five minutes ago. The subs are keeping their distance, but they are not shy about making their presence known,” the captain said nervously.

  “The strike group may be the responsibility of the Admiral,” thought Captain Miller, “but the carrier is mine. I do not like the way this looks…”

  The Admiral seemed to agree with Miller’s unspoken thoughts. “I don’t like this John--not one bit. I almost feel like we are walking into some sort of trap.” He looked around the room. Everyone was busy trying to digest all the potential threats to the strike group and what they all meant. “How many more ships still need to exit the straits before we can get some maneuver room?” he asked.

  The captain walked over to one of the computer screens being manned by a petty officer 1st class. After analyzing what he saw for a moment, he answered, “Just two--both frigates. What are you thinking, sir?”

  The Admiral asked, “If you were going to lay a trap for a carrier strike group exiting the Bosphorus, when would you spring it?”

  Several of the officers and sailors stopped what they were doing and turned to the Captain to see what he would say. The admiral had asked a good question. While the captain was formulating a response, one of the communications officers interrupted everyone’s thoughts with an urgent message.

  “Captain, you need to see this,” announced Petty Officer King, who had been manning one of the communications terminals.

  Just then, Archie Martin, another petty officer who had been monitoring the navigation and map of the strike group, stood up and blurted out, “We just lost our GPS signals!”

  The Admiral walked towards Petty Officer Martin. “What do you mean, ‘we just lost our GPS signal?’ Is it a problem on our end?” he asked, hoping it was just a glitch.

  “It�
�s not a computer malfunction,” explained Petty Officer King. “We just lost our satellite link with NAVEUR and the rest of the fleet. I’ve switched us over to standard radio communications, but it will degrade the volume of data that can be sent between the fleet and fleet headquarters,” he said to the horror of everyone in the room.

  If the fleet had lost access to the GPS and communication satellites, then that meant they could not properly coordinate their defenses or communicate with higher headquarters as quickly or securely as they had just a few minutes ago. The Admiral knew immediately what this meant; the Russians had just taken down America’s satellite capabilities in preparation of an attack. It’s what he would have done if the roles were reversed.

  In that instant, Admiral Munch took control of the situation and began to issue orders to the fleet. “Sound general quarters. Bring the fleet to Condition One and order the DDs and ASW assets to engage and destroy the Russian submarines now!” he shouted.

  Then he turned to the captain. “Get this ship moving to flank speed immediately, and prepare for a Russian attack,” Munch said in an urgent and commanding voice.

  Just as the Captain was about to say that perhaps they should try to raise NAVEUR to see if they were experiencing the same problem, one of the officers manning the carrier’s defense systems shouted, “Vampires! Vampires! We have inbound cruise missiles coming from heading 018. I count four missiles. Fifty seconds to impact!”

  Everyone’s eyes simultaneously turned towards the officer who had just shouted, and then to the threat monitor on one of the walls.

  Another voice shouted, “Torpedoes in the water! I count one--no four torpedoes heading towards us. Make that thirteen torpedoes now. They appear to be targeting several of the ships in the fleet!”

  The Other Side

 

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