B004V9FYIY EBOK

by Unknown

  The mortar crews added their own strength to the attack, sending their charges crashing down on the tops of the tanks in the center of the compound and then spreading out to hit all the area. Just one minute after the attack began the last of Ricks’ charges exploded under the tank turrets. The plastic explosives blew the turrets off seven tanks and damaged the rest. It had been a great show.

  But the North Koreans were now fully awake and grabbing what weapons they could. By now the fires illuminated the entire valley and the allied force found itself exposed. The men and women began taking cover and firing at anything that moved in the tent encampments. Ricks saw his opportunity. Grabbing several bundles of dynamite, he raced down into the inferno to the ammunition trucks that were apart from the rest. At a dead run, he charged in, lighting the fuses and tossing them into the back of each truck.

  The North Korean soldiers saw him and were concentrating on making sure he never returned home. He dashed behind one tent to find several soldiers standing there with rifles. Ricks opened up with his M-16 taking them down in a spray of bullets. Seconds later, he came upon one officer urging on two men. They too were taken down by what some thought was a wild demon charging through the camp.

  The dynamite went off in the first truck, setting off all the other munitions. The blast knocked Ricks to the ground along with twenty other North Koreans trying to get out of the camp. Once again Ricks opened up and mowed down most of them, but not without one round grazing Ricks’ left arm. He rolled behind several crates as bullets struck the ground around him. Glancing around the corner, he saw the other men had taken refuge behind some drums. Ricks pulled out his only grenade and pulled the pin, lobbing the grenade toward the soldiers then bracing against some crates.

  The grenade went off in front of the barrels, its shrapnel piercing the sides and igniting the diesel fuel. A gout of flame poured skyward, drenching everyone in the area with burning oil. Ricks dashed towards the area where his men had been stationed, firing into several small groups of North Koreans trying to get out as well. Seeing several of his people firing into the compound, he motioned for them to start making their way out. As they passed by his position, he saw that several were wounded. Giving orders to gather at the kick off point, he dashed back along the hill and found two of his men who had been hurt and were struggling to get back. Ricks slung his weapon and got between the two men, helping them along the trail and out of danger. At one point, they had been pinned down until others in the squad opened up from the side and took out the soldiers firing at them.

  Once back, Ricks was still one short. Urging his men back toward the valley entrance, Ricks went back into the inferno. After a few minutes he noticed a movement to his right and saw Private Walker behind a large stone. He had been hit in the leg and could tell it was broken.

  “Always getting in trouble, huh?” Ricks said as he crouched beside the young man. He felt around his lower leg and watched the grimace on Walker’s face. “We got to get you out of here. If I help, can you move?”

  Walker’s face was illuminated by the fires in the compound, but his eyes shot Ricks a give me a break look. “Give me a hand and I’ll walk on my knees if I have to,” he growled. Ricks jerked Walker up and threw Walker’s arm over his shoulder. The two men hobbled off as fast as they could. It was a slow process. They were now getting fire from several places in the compound. The two men dashed back and forth behind what cover they could find, with Walker’s leg dangling behind them. Another massive explosion shook the ground and Ricks took advantage of the confusion to move farther down the path. When it seemed there was no way out, the brush erupted in gunfire. Ricks threw Walker down and moved his body over him to protect him from the onslaught. Then he felt several sets of hands grab him and pull him back.

  “Get moving! I’m not going to carry your ass,” Hufham shouted as several men moved the two of them to the safety of the valley entrance.

  The men moved another hundred yards when a line of flames seemed to spread behind them. Lt. Colonel Peterson and his men had laid out a line of barrels and opened them up. On signal, the line was ignited, covering their escape. The men gathered what was left and moved back around the hills to the culvert three klicks away. All during their escape, the men heard additional explosions and the ground shook from the destruction they had caused. It was a tired group of men and women who came out of the other end of the culvert into the early morning sunlight. Peterson started out with thirty people. Only nineteen came back.

  Lt. Colonel Peterson watched the men and women trudge past him toward the small building where they would rest. Already the medics were working on the most seriously wounded. The last one out of the culvert was Ricks. Peterson gazed at a man who looked old beyond his years. The look was one of exhaustion. His eyes were sunken, his stare vacant. He was walking with a slight limp and a slouch, as if he was already asleep but his body continued on instinct. Peterson waved slightly and Ricks looked over and smiled. That was when Peterson noticed the holes. Ricks’ flack vest had four holes in it along his chest; one along his left arm where there was some bleeding. The final hole was in Ricks’ helmet. It had gouged out a line at least five inches long. As Ricks passed, Peterson took step beside him. “You’re bound and determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you?” he said to Ricks.

  “Nah. Trouble just seems to follow me,” Ricks said.

  “I saw you going after those trucks. I also saw you taking on a few squads of soldiers all by yourself. It looked like you were looking for trouble to me. And what was all that running back into that place?”

  “Had to get my guys out. You knew I was a Boy Scout didn’t you, sir?” Ricks joked.

  Peterson chuckled. “Just get your ass to a medic and get that arm looked at. Then get some sleep. I have a feeling we really pissed them off last night.”

  “No arguments from me,” Ricks said. The men walked into an old gym where the others were being looked over. A medic took Ricks in tow and some others were preparing a hot meal. Peterson walked over to a bird Colonel and sat down with him to report. He was very careful to tell the man what Ricks had done in detail.

  In The Air Off North Korea

  Major Dave Adams eased back on the stick and broke away to the right as the KC-135 finished topping off his tanks. In the back, his Electronic Warfare Officer had the gear up and operating. It would take only about thirty minutes before the craft would near the coast of North Korea. He checked his orders again and, at the appointed position, he adjusted the bomber’s heading to move toward the upper east coast of the Korean peninsula. It could have been done by the computer onboard, but Adams just didn’t trust the things anymore. A couple of friends had been in the air on EMP night and they had almost been killed when the computer systems went haywire. Luckily they were both fine pilots and managed to get the ships back on the ground in one piece.

  “EWO to pilot, I have begun receiving search radar emissions. Beginning plot.”

  “Roger that. Do you think they see us?”

  “I doubt it. The systems I’m detecting would have a hard time seeing a B-52.” That brought a chuckle from the rest of the crew. The North Koreans had notoriously old equipment.

  “Well, let me know if one of the fire control systems comes up.”

  “Roger that.”

  Lieutenant Janice Carter had been top in her class at the Electronic Warfare School. But because her vision was far from 20/20, she was relegated to sitting in the back of the plane instead of the front. Her lack of vision was more than made up in her intelligence, however. She built a reputation for being able to pick out the signatures of radars and be able to tell not only where they were, but what they were. In a few cases, she had been able to tell where it had been made. The guys called her a witch behind her back. She loved every minute of it.

  Twenty minutes later the bomber turned and began its trip down the Korean coast. By then, Carter identified eighteen air defense radars and plotted their position. As the bo
mber flew down the coast, she also identified radars on the western coast of the peninsula. By the time they passed into what was South Korea, the radar sites had become less frequent. Only two were operating that night between the old border and Pusan. All of the radars were old Soviet types nearly 40 years old.

  Next came the tricky part. Adams banked the bomber toward the coast and reversed his course. Now the plane would be only 100 miles away from shore as it made another run up the coast. Normally this didn’t mean much to the crew since the B-1 was a stealthier aircraft. The next move was something his entire crew thought was absolutely nuts. Adams opened the bomb bay doors for fifteen seconds. Stealth was thrown out the window and five more radars were switched on, including three missile fire control radars looking for the target that suddenly appeared and then disappeared from their screens. Once again, Carter identified the radars and plotted where they were.

  “Are we being tracked?” Adams asked.

  “No major, they’re looking all over the place for us, but no tracking or lock on. And none of them can track while scanning. I’m reading some 3D stuff and a conical scan, but they don’t see us,” Carter said.

  Nervously Adams sat back in his seat and handed off the controls to his co-pilot. He was sweating at the thought of giving his position away. The B-1 was a great plane and had been the first relatively stealthy bomber, but it was not a B-2 and not a plane to flaunt itself. Whoever thought this one up was crazy.

  Carter was in her element. The equipment successfully plotted the radars down to one square yard. That would be enough, she thought. Ten minutes later, with the previous units well behind them, she called up the pilot and had the procedure run again. This time eight missile and gun targeting radars came online. They were halfway up the peninsula.

  The third time the whole console lit up. Word had come down the line and everyone was waiting for something to appear. The radars searched the sky, sending millions of watts of energy into the air to find whatever was up there. Adams was looking down at the coast when he saw a flash of light and a yellow glow that seemed to be reaching skyward. Punching the engines, he careened the B-1 hard left, toward the coast, but putting his exhaust away from any seeker that might be glued to it. Then he ducked into a cloud and cut the throttles. “Any lock ons?” he shouted.

  “Negative. Nothing tracking. Probably heat seeker,” Carter yelled back.

  Adams had already figured that. Just before getting into the cloud he saw the missile track away from his plane. The maneuver worked this time. The clouds helped. “Carter have you got all you need?” he asked.

  “More than enough Major. Let’s head home.”

  Adams checked his systems and turned the airplane to head directly away from North Korea. He accelerated the aircraft past mach 1 and zoomed away. No one else shot at them. Adams finally set the auto-pilot for a return to Guam. The tanker would rendezvous with them over Japan. A few more hours and they would be home. He hoped having the crap scared out of all of them was worth it.

  Three hours later, Fleet Broadcast out of Guam sent out a special targeting message that was addressed to three submarines somewhere in the Pacific.

  North Korea

  Kee had pulled out of the Chinese terminal eight hours before. His instructions had been explicit. He was to drive through the big tunnel just before 10 pm. Once in the middle, he was to pull a small lever on the dash. He was told it would release a pipe under the truck which would roll out of the way. Under no circumstances was he to stop to retrieve it. As a matter of fact, he was told to get out of the tunnel as fast as possible. Once again, the Chinese had loaded the truck. Once through he would deliver his load as planned and return home. Then something strange had happened. The contact he had been working with leaned in and took his hand. “Please make sure you deliver these packages on time and get as far away as possible. This is the last you will hear from us, I hope we can meet again soon,” he said.

  All along the trip Kee had wondered what he was carrying. On one occasion he was tempted to get out and look it over, but the man’s warning made him continue. The tunnel was only ten miles ahead and it was only 9:05. He would make it in time.

  Chapter 13

  August 15 - The Assault Begins

  Pusan, Korea

  Pusan, Korea was dark. For weeks a blackout had been maintained and with the new moon it was difficult to see a hand in front of your face. The harbor pilot had two tugs with them and for some reason the lights were operating on the buoys coming into the harbor. The tugs weren’t needed.

  The big automobile carriers slowly made their way in toward the main piers in the port facility. The first, Morning Sky, eased up until she was at the very head of the pier before slinging the lines out to men waiting for them. The ship’s heavy hawsers were pulled down and draped over the bollards along the pier, securing the ship. Within minutes the big ramps amidships and on the stern began swinging outward and lowering to the pier. Once the ramps were down, the big doors opened and the sound of gas turbines and diesel engines could be heard.

  Almost as if the great ship was vomiting them out, the vehicles from the 1st Armored Division leapt down the ramps and onto the pier. Their orders had been explicit and brief. Get to the front and report when ready. The Abrams tanks opened up the throttles and rapidly made their way down the pier, out the gate, and through the city. The second ship opened its doors and it too disgorged its armored spearhead. A cruise ship from Carnival pulled in across the pier, followed by one from Cunard. The third auto carrier came in and started offloading. Once the first echelons of tanks and Bradleys were gone, the troop transport trucks made their way out and lined up next to the cruise ships. They were rapidly filled and took off in the same direction as the M-1s and Bradleys. Interspersed with those were fueling trucks, supply trucks, assault equipment, and heavy artillery. On the next pier two LSTs extended their ramps and the Paladin artillery pieces were rolled out and moved forward. Units from Australia and New Zealand were landing in Chinhae and pushing westward. Two more cruise ships and five amphibs were left to unload. Everyone was in a hurry. They had one hour.

  DMZ, Korea

  Kee was stopped at the tunnel checkpoint and his papers examined. The guard waved him on and he pulled the truck onto the roadway and surged through the entrance. Immediately he could feel the heat from the other trucks coming up past him. The exhaust stung his eyes and on occasion he coughed. About four minutes later he was on the level section at the bottom of the tunnel. One thing he noticed was the guards were getting pretty lax. They were often sitting in the little booths not paying any attention to the traffic going by.

  He was within twenty meters of the truck in front of him and the truck behind was closer still. With the trucks that close, he doubted they would notice the pipe fall. About half way between two of the sentry stations he pulled the handle under the dash.

  The ten-inch pipe fell from its holder under the side of the truck and bounced onto the side of the roadway. The release also set the pipe spinning slightly so that it rolled all the way to the side of the road. Aside from the dull ring of the pipe when it hit the road, it went unnoticed by anyone else in the tunnel.

  Kee glanced at his watch. 9:47. Plenty of time to get out of the tunnel. He didn’t wonder again what he had been carrying until he cleared the tunnel and was five miles away.

  Ulsan, South Korea

  The four big automobile carriers approached the port of Ulsan, the home of Hyundai Shipbuilding. Colonel Che Ju Lo had been notified that some ships were expected. He was summoned immediately and an officer sent out with the pilot boat. His instructions were specific. The ships must follow the prescribed instructions to the letter or the crews would be killed. Luckily, when the ship approached the coastline, they began signaling with their light for permission to come in the harbor. The short range radar set up at the harbor entrance had reported no other contacts, just four of the auto carriers. Che told the officer to go aboard with the pilot and make s
ure of the cargo, then when the ship pulled up to the pier, to tell him they were a “gift to the people.” Just in case, two tanks and four squads of men were ready to board the ships and take over if necessary. He waited anxiously on the pier.

  Captain Kua Gun Doe was already queasy. The boat with the harbor pilot moved out of the relatively calm waters of the harbor and into the swells of the ocean. The thirty-foot boat rocked and rolled in the seas as they approached the big ships. The pangs of nausea were reaching at his throat and he was glad he had entered the army instead of the navy. He staggered over to the harbor pilot smoking a cigarette in the protective shelter of the small pilothouse. “How do we go aboard the ship?” he asked.

  The pilot reveled at the sight of the army captain already so ill. A small light in the pilothouse was all he needed to see that the man was pale. Even his voice was cracking. He broke out in a wide grin. “They will lower a ladder for us from an opening on the side. You have climbed a ladder before?”

  The captain gave the pilot a stern look. He even felt his hand move toward his pistol. Such insolence. Of course he had climbed a ladder before. But he could not let this man know his little remark had upset him. “I was wondering. I have seen some ships with some kind of steps they let down.”

  The pilot nodded. “An accommodation ladder, but these ships don’t carry such things. They have these big ramps for getting the cars on and off. They only do that at piers. So we are stuck with ladders,” he said.