Team Yankee: a novel of World War III

by Harold Coyle

  One of the jobs that Bannon had dreaded most began the first night in the assembly area.

  After the Team had stood down for the night, and only those personnel required for minimal security were posted, he sat alone at a table in the gasthaus. In the quiet of the night, with, no noise but the hiss of the coleman lantern, he began to write letters to the families of those who had died. "Dear Mrs. McAlister, I was your son's company com-

  mander. You have been informed, I am sure, by this time, of the death of your son, John.

  While this is small consolation for the grief that you must feel, I want you to know that your son died performing his duties in a manner befitting the fine officer he was. His absence ..."

  "Dear Mrs. Ortelli, As you know, I was your husband's company commander and tank commander. You have been informed, I am sure, by this time, of Joseph's death. While this is ..." "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Lorriet, I was ..."

  As he wrote the letters, the images of those who had been lost came back. In his mind's eye he could see 21 hanging on the edge of the ditch, burning and shaking from internal explosions; Ortelli, wrapped in his sleeping bag; Lorriet's eyes that stared and saw nothing; the severed arm belonging to a

  soldier Bannon didn't even know. Those images were perfectly clear to him. To the responsibility of running the Team, he now added the haunting and frightful baggage of remembering those who had been entrusted to his care and had died. In all his readings, in all the classes he had attended, nothing had prepared him for this. Each commander was left to deal with the images of the dead in his own way. "Dear Mr. and Mrs. . . . '

  On the afternoon of the second day the first sergeant brought 2nd Lt. Randall Avery to the Team's assembly area. Avery had been assigned to take over the 2nd Platoon. As he was hauling his gear out of the first sergeant's vehicle, he noticed Garger going through a sand table exercise with his tank commanders. As the two lieutenants had both been in the same officer basic course at Fort Knox, Avery was thrilled to see the face of an old drinking buddy in this sea of strangers. He called to Garger. But instead of coming over and giving him a hearty greeting and hello, Garger merely acknowledged the new lieutenant's presence with a nod and continued to work with the 3rd Platoon's leaders. Avery could not understand the cold reception. The reception he got from Bannon was even colder.

  Bannon and Uleski were sitting at a table on the terrace in front of the gasthaus going over the next day's schedule of training and maintenance when the first sergeant brought Avery over. "Captain Bannon, this is Lieutenant Avery. He's straight out of Knox and has been assigned to take over the 2nd Platoon."

  With that introduction, Avery came to attention, saluted, and reported. "Sir, Second Lieutenant Avery reporting for duty."

  Bannon and Uleski looked at each other, and then looked at the first sergeant. With a nod, Bannon acknowledged the lieutenant's salute. For a moment Avery stood there, not sure what to do. "At ease, Lieutenant. We don't do much saluting in the company area. Where are you coming from?" "I came over from Fort Knox, where I was attending the motor officers' course after AOB. I was in the same class as Gerry, I mean Lieutenant Garger. We were good friends there, sir."

  Again Bannon and Uleski exchanged glances. "That's nice. What college did you graduate from?" "Texas A and M, sir."

  Uleski couldn't resist. He let out three loud whoops. Neither First Sergeant Harrert nor Bannon could keep from breaking out in laughter. Avery stood there at a loss. He didn't appreciate being the butt of the XO's joke. Neither was he in a position to do anything about it. He was totally unprepared for this kind of reception.

  Seeing the lieutenant's discomfort, Bannon put his official company commander's face back on. "You are going to the 2nd Platoon. The man you are replacing was a damned good lieutenant who was killed three days ago. I hope you have better luck. Your platoon sergeant is Sergeant First Class Hebrock. He's been running the platoon since Lieutenant McAlister was killed. Your only hope of surviving is to listen to what that man has to say. I don't know how much time we have before we move out again. You have a lot to learn and not much time, so don't waste any. Is that clear?" Taken aback by this cheerless how-do-you-do, Avery simply replied, "Yes, sir," and waited for the next shock.

  "Bob, we'll finish this up later during the evening meal. I want you to take the lieutenant down to 2nd Platoon and turn him over to Sergeant Hebrock. Then you best get down to battalion CP and check on the replacement for our FIST track. I damned sure don't want to let battalion let that one slip. " "OK. You need anything else from battalion while I'm there?"

  "Just the usual; mail, if there is such a thing."

  With that, Uleski got up, gathered up his notebook and map and took off at a fast pace.

  "Come on, Avery, this way. "

  Avery glanced at the XO, turned back to Bannon, gave him a quick salute, then gathered up his gear and took off at a trot to catch up to Uleski who was already thirty meters away.

  Somehow, Avery had expected something different. His mind was already racing in an effort to figure out what was going to happen next.

  It wasn't until the evening meal that Avery had a chance to talk to Gerry Garger. The whole afternoon had been one rude shock after another. The greeting from the Team commander had been warm compared to that received from the platoon. Although Randy Avery was no fool and knew not to expect open arms and warm smiles, he had at least expected a handshake. What he got instead was a reception that ranged from indifferent to almost hostile. Hebrock had been proper but short, following the same line that the Team commander had taken, "We have a lot to do and not much time, so you need to pay attention, sir. " The sir had been added almost as an afterthought. Hebrock then continued with the training under way.

  Sergeant Tessman, the gunner on 21, was less than happy to see the new TC and made little effort to hide it. Even the tank was not what he had expected. Unlike the new 66, which was out of war stocks, the new 21 had belonged to another unit, had been damaged and then repaired, and reissued. Inside the turret there were still burn marks and blackened areas. The welds to repair the damage had been

  done quickly and crudely and had not been painted. Tessman made a special effort to show his new TC the stains where the former TC had bled all over the tank commander's seat.

  Even his good friend, Gerry Garger, appeared to be standoffish. At least Gerry acknowledged him with a hello and a handshake while waiting to eat. But Gerry didn't seem interested in talking while they ate. When asked about the war so far, Garger would give simple, short answers, such as, "It's hard" or "It's not like our training at Knox." By the end of the day, Randall Avery was feeling alone and very confused.

  Uleski returned with something that was almost as valuable as news that the war was over: the first letters from families in the States. The announcement that there was news from home stopped everything. Even Bannon could not hide his hopes and apprehensions. Hope that he had a letter, just one letter. Apprehension that it was not there. There was no thought of setting the example of the cool, calm, patient commander. This was too important.

  When Uleski handed him his letter, he thanked God, the Postmaster General, the Division Postal Detachment, and anyone he could think of as he turned away and walked to a quiet spot. Bannon did not notice those who still stood there in silence when all the letters had been distributed. Pat and the children were safe and staying with her parents. He read that line four times before he went on. It was as if nothing else mattered. His family was safe.

  After having experienced emotional highs and lows in quick succession over the past six days, the elation he felt over this news set an all-time high. Not even the ending of the war right now could have boosted him any higher. It was because of that elation that Bannon did not detect the subtle implications in Pat's language until he had read the letter for the sixth time the next day. In reading it more carefully, what she didn't tell him spoke louder than what she had written. Not all was well with her or the children. This realizati
on dulled his joy and caused new apprehensions. Even though they were safe, something terrible had happened.

  It would be

  weeks before Pat was able to bring herself to fully recount the story of their departure from Europe. In that time, the war rolled on, taking new and ominous turns, as wars have a tendency to do.

  CHAPTER NINE.

  Deep Attack.

  After two days with Team Yankee, Avery came to realize that the cold reception he had received had not been personal. That is, he had not been the only one who had been received in that manner. All the newly assigned personnel that had been fed into the Team had received the same treatment. At first, he resented this fact. He looked at it as if it were some kind of planned initiation, and he thought that he and the others deserved better.

  When he commented on this to his friend, Gerry Garger, Garger looked at him, thought about the question, and then told Avery that he had no idea what he was talking about. He told the new platoon leader that as far as he was concerned everyone in the Team got along exceptionally well. He went on to tell Avery that he was being overly sensitive and should settle down to the business at hand. Without so much as a see you later, Garger turned around and walked away from Avery.

  Avery began to understand that there was a difference between the newly assigned personnel and the original members of Team Yankee when the CO authorized the tank commanders to paint "kill rings" on the gun tubes of the Team's tanks. The old German that owned the gasthaus made the suggestion that the Team should do as the German panzer troops had done in World War II: paint a ring on the tank's gun tube for every enemy tank destroyed by that crew. The idea was popular and accepted under certain conditions.

  The kills had to be confirmed. Only the first sergeant, who didn't have a tank, could authorize the kill rings if, in his opinion, there were sufficient confirmation. The kill rings were to be one-inch black rings, one for each kill, painted on the gun tube just forward of the bore evacuator.

  Once the kill rings had been painted on the tanks, the tank commanders and gunners went around to see who the top gun was. To Avery's surprise, it was Garger. His 31 tank had eleven rings on it. The CO's tank, 66, had seven rings. Hebrock told Avery that the CO could have claimed six more kills but instead allowed them to go on 55, the tank that he had been commanding at the time of the kills. Of the ten tanks in Team Yankee, only Avery's tank, 21, had a clean gun tube.

  It suddenly dawned upon him that since his arrival in the Team, no one had talked about what he had done in the war. Every time he asked questions about the battles the Team had been in when talking to Garger, his friend would move on to another subject. When the CO, XO, and Polgar gave a class on lessons learned thus far in the war, they gave it in a very impersonal and academic manner. At times, it seemed as if they were talking about another unit. It was as if there was a secret fellowship that only those members of the Team that had been in combat could belong to.

  To have bragged about their deeds would have seemed out of place, not right somehow.

  But the kill rings gave the crews a chance to show what they had done without overtly blowing their own horn. Avery suddenly found himself wanting to go into combat. This revelation shocked him because the first reason that popped into his mind when he thought about it was not to defend freedom or to do his duty in the defense of his country. The reason that drove this desire was a longing to belong to the Team as an equal, to be accepted. Avery wanted kill rings too.

  The battalion seemed to have a knack for screwing up breakfasts. On the morning of the fourth day in the assembly

  area, the eighth of the war, a messenger from battalion came up to the Team with word that there would be an operations order given at battalion headquarters in an hour. All the platoon leaders, the XO, the first sergeant, and the Team's new FIST chief, a second lieutenant by the name of Plesset, were having a working breakfast with Bannon. After finishing green eggs that were once warm, bacon strips that were as crispy as wet noodles, and toast that could have doubled as shingles, they were about to go into the day's training schedule when word of the pending change in mission came. Bannon promptly cancelled all activities that had been planned except those involving maintenance and preparation.

  Instead, the platoon leaders were to

  conduct precombat inspections and start a sleep plan for the majority of the crews. He had no idea when they would move but the odds were it would be at night, probably tonight.

  Bannon wanted the Team to be ready and rested.

  Uleski and the FIST went to the meeting with Bannon. They arrived a few minutes before the briefing was scheduled to start so that Bannon could talk to the S-3. Major Jordan was at the front of the classroom that served as the battalion's conference room talking to Colonel Reynolds. The three of them walked up to the front of the room to the operations map. The graphics depicting the new mission were on it, ready for the briefing. A chill went down Bannon's spine when he saw that it was another attack. He and Uleski exchanged glances. Physically, the Team had recovered from the last attack.

  Mentally, though, Bannon had his doubts. Especially about himself. He wasn't sure if he could deal with another horror show like the last one. Images of the dead and dying flashed through his mind. No, he wasn't ready.

  It was an ambitious plan, involving the entire brigade striking deep into East Germany-driving at the heart of the enemy. The arrows depicting the axis of advance that the brigade was to use went through a German panzer grenadier battalion that had already crossed the inter-German boundary, as the border between West and East Germany was called. They were to advance up a narrow valley in the Thuringer Wald, in the direction of Leipzig, north of the

  Thuringer Wald and on the North German Plain. The arrow showed the brigade going past the city and pointing to an objective to the north. The map the battalion was using was too small to show the ultimate objective they would probably go for. But that wasn't necessary.

  Berlin, the heart of East Germany and center of communications, was the objective they were aimed at. The S-3 saw Bannon studying the map. When he came over, he paused a moment before speaking, "Well, what do you think?" "Let's see if I can guess who's leading-C company?"

  "Sean, you know damned well who's going to lead the attack, at least initially. Team Yankee is the best company we have, and you have most of our armor. It would be stupid to put anyone else in the lead." Bannon looked at the S-3 for a moment, considering his answer.

  "Sir, are you attempting to win me over with logic or flattery?" "A little of both, I guess."

  The battalion XO started the briefing by telling everyone to take their seats. Colonel Reynolds called Bannon to sit next to him. His friendly attitude and smile reminded Bannon of the cat who praised the canary for his beautiful song before eating him. When everyone was settled, the battalion XO gave the briefing sequence and told the S-2 to start. The last six days of war had done nothing to improve the Intel officer's skills in preparing a useful briefing. He started by summarizing the progress of the war to date and the gains the Soviets had made in the north. These gains were indeed impressive. Denmark was isolated. Despite the efforts of the NATO allies in the Northern Army Group, the Dutch border had almost been reached. Most of the German sea coast was in Soviet hands. In the central and southern portions of Germany, German, French, and American forces had, for the most part, held the Soviets to minor gains. In

  one area, a German panzer division found a weak point between two Soviet armies and had driven into East Germany before the drive spent itself. It was this drive that would provide the

  springboard for the attack the battalion was about to undertake. The S-3, as usual, provided the meat of the briefing. The entire division would be involved in this effort. Brigade would lead off, widening the breach the Germans had made and going north into the enemy rear.

  French units deploying from the interior of France were replacing those divisional units still in contact as well as another U.S. division
. If the brigade and then the rest of the division were successful in widening the breach, eventually the attack would grow into a corps-size operation. The brigade was to advance along two axes, along two valleys running south to north. The 1st of the 98th Mech would lead the attack up one valley to the west while I st of the 78th Mech, followed by 1st of the 4th Armor, would advance up a valley called the Nebal Valley. The battalion's scheme of maneuver called for two company teams to lead the attack, Team Yankee

  on

  the right and Team Bravo on the left. The two infantry pure companies, C and D, would follow, C company behind Team Yankee. At this point in the briefing, the urge to take a cheap shot at C company was too strong to suppress. Bannon interrupted Major Jordan.

  "Excuse me, sir, but I seem to remember trying that before. I don't know if

  Team Yankee is ready to be supported by C company again."

  There was a moment of silence. Everyone looked at Bannon, then they looked at the battalion commander, waiting for his reaction. Colonel Reynolds exchanged glances with the S-3, then smiled. "Sean, I can assure you, there will be no rat fucks like the last time. I will personally assure you that C company is where it is supposed to be." The colonel turned to Cravin, the C company commander, "Isn't that right, Captain Cravin?" Cravin, smarting from the exchange and visibly upset, simply replied yes in a low voice. Major Jordan winked when he and Bannon exchanged glances, then continued with the order.

  The battalion had learned its lessons from the last attack well. While it was moving at night, as before, it would temporarily occupy an assembly area to the rear of the German unit it was to pass through. There they would sort out any last-minute changes, refuel, allow the accompanying artillery time to deploy, and conduct last-minute preparations. They then would be escorted through the German lines by a liaison officer from the German unit. To expedite the actions in the assembly area, the battalion XO would leave at noon with representatives from each company, the battalion's Scout Platoon, and the fuel trucks. The scouts would be used as road guides where needed. When the S-3