by Andy Farman
No sooner had his tanks gained the top of the pass when a runner sought him out, and he, Briant Foulness and Tony McMarn were guided to a hurriedly put together O Group. Having introduced themselves they sat back and listened to the Coldstream Guards battalion CO begin with a brief, concise and no frills introduction
The brigade command element had been in the two 5th Mech Humvees that had been ambushed, Brigadier General John Salisbury-Jones was dead along with the rest of his staff and so as the senior battalion commander, Pat Reed was assuming acting command of the brigade.
“One thing we are short on is about everything we realistically need to fight a battle, but we are the British Army so we are used to that.”
Elements of 902nd Infantry Regiment and the 11th Armored Regiment, two platoons in Bradleys, a platoon of Abrams and a pair of M125s had also made it out. They had ‘gone firm’ at the top of the other road up the escarpment, the Jamberoo Mountain Road, eight miles to the south and the Irish Guards were already enroute to join them under the command of their 2 i/c until their CO could rejoin them after the O Group.
“I can tell you what I know from before comms’ were disrupted by jamming, and that is that the US 5th Mechanised Division and the Australian Army units in New South Wales are falling back from the coast. We, as allies, are hugely outnumbered and defending this coastline would basically require twelve divisions, not two. Giving ground and using the escarpment and mountains as a natural defensive barrier, is the only sensible move.”
The senior surviving officer from the 902nd arrived, looking ashen. Unless other members of the regiment had made it out then a full three quarters of the unit were now dead, wounded or prisoners of the People’s Republic of China.
“Lieutenant?” Pat said to the American.
“Sir?”
“My last battalion was pretty much shot to pieces in its first action of the war, too.” he said kindly. “With the help of some bloody good soldiers from across the Atlantic we were back in the fight with a vengeance, so the very least I can do is return the favour, young man.”
Pat placed the lieutenant’s 902nd element with the Welsh Guards in-depth to give them a chance to reorganise, and then he brought the O Group to an end.
“Gents, about now the Chinese are securing the port in readiness for bringing all their forces ashore, which will take time. But I am guessing that in just an hour or so they will come at us with what they already have in order to catch us still off balance, so get off back to your men and prepare for a ruck.”
Half a mile west of Mogo, NSW.
0800hrs.
Tango Four Three Alpha was burning. It had been struck in the rear by multiple RPG-26 rockets and disabled, the heavy engine covers blown off as if they weighed nothing at all. The crew were able to bail out and take cover but the driver had gone in the opposite direction to the remainder, and had then been shot in the legs and captured.
The remaining Leopards were upslope, further along the trail towards the rear of Bateman’s Bay, but unable to assist in a rescue without robust support from numerically more infantry than they had in order to clear the trees, which seemed to be infested with RPG armed Chinese. The Chinese infantry were also accompanied by at least one good sniper, and the Australian infantry were now short by an officer and two NCOs as a result. The Aussie infantry were too few in number and the small force of tanks and infantry had given ground quicker than it would have liked.
Lieutenant Edwards, his gunner and loader were four hundred metres from the rest of the unit and had a grandstand seat in their place of concealment as enemy infantrymen approached their driver. He was lying on the ground some twenty feet from the Leopard, in a lot of pain but holding his hands up in surrender. The Australian infantry and tankers could see the enemy and the driver clearly, but could not open fire without endangering him too. If the Australians expected him to be treated in accordance with the Geneva Convention they were in for a terrible surprise. Flames were licking out of the engine bay now and the wounded man was dragged by the arms over to the tank whereupon those arms were broken with rifle butts and the helpless man heaved up and tossed screaming into the flames. The Bravo and Charlie tanks opened fire with their machine guns but the enemy used the tanks bulk for cover as they slipped back into the forest.
Seven enemy tanks, IFVs and APCs had been destroyed by the Leopards as they withdrew along the power line avenue, buying time for the forces in Bateman’s Bay to pull back beyond the Clyde River. Once all were across the delaying action could be curtailed with a dash for the Clyde River Bridge, which would be blown behind them. It wasn’t working out that way though. The mortars had already departed, ordered back to join other sections beyond the river. It had seemed sensible at the time but that was before the two companies of enemy infantry had appeared.
Those same infantry were waiting now, the two Type 98s the Leopards had destroyed would need replacement but once the Chinese brought up more armour, the advance would continue.
“Hello Address Group Golf Echo, this is Address Group Kilo Victor, fetch your Sunray, over.”
“Screw me.” Che exclaimed. “There’s a bleedin’ Pom on the radio!”
Corporal Dopey Hemp paused, yet again, to allow the line to straighten before he continued, much to the ire of his platoon commander. Mr Pottinger managed to annoy Dopey also, by noisily moving forwards to berate the section command in a loud whisper, ordering him to speed up. Instead of which Dopey halted in cover and sank down onto one knee. Accordingly, his section, and then the platoon did the same. They were in thick woodland west of the power lines and had flanked the Chinese infantry by using a rambler’s footpath. They had now left that path, turning east, and they were now advancing to contact, counter attacking the Chinese. At the first shot the mortars would lay it on, isolating the Chinese point company so that they could be destroyed by the men of the Wessex Regiment. Getting in close, whilst still retaining command and control before the firing started, was the hard part though.
“With all due respect, sir, you made me and my section point and that’s what I am doing.” Dopey replied as levelly as he could. “Close quarters work in a wood is pretty much the same as close quarters work at night, which is two things I’ve done, and everyone in the platoon have done for real a few times, but you’ve only read about in manuals.” He then stood, turning his back on Mr P and gestured for his section to stand and move on again.
If looks could kill, as they say…
Baz Cotter had seen the exchange and knew now that the platoon had a serious problem if the boss was allowing his personal feelings to over-ride sound judgement. The platoon commander was livid and could not see he was in the wrong. Not a good note for the platoon to start this battle on. He moved across to speak to the officer to apply some oil to the stormy waters but Mr Pottinger was having none of it. In their whispered exchange the platoon commander made it clear he wanted Corporal Hemp’s stripes. In order to deny snipers a target no one openly wore rank badges anymore but Baz opened his mouth to add a voice of reason and was silenced by the officer pointing to his epaulet, yet again. Baz found that response by the boss to any issue he felt he should have the last word on to be intensely immature and irritating. It was a mannerism that had quickly been seized on by the platoon comics who would mimic 2nd Lt Pottinger whenever he was not around.
Like it or not, the CSM was going to have to speak to the OC about having a serious word with the platoon commander of 12 Platoon.
Looking at his watch Gary Burley was wondering if the English troops had got themselves lost in the woods. It had been quiet since the murder of the Alpha tanks driver, but far away along the line of power lines there were three dots that got bigger by the moment, three more of the Type 98 tanks, zig-zagging erratically as they came on, making a long range shot with the 105mm rifled guns a difficult proposition, and they did not have the ammunition to spare.
There was a single rifle shot, an old SLR if memory served, away on the right
somewhere, and after a paused there was the sound of AK fire. More rifles joined in and this was followed by short bursts from GPMGs. Mortar rounds landed on the left of the cleared area and further downhill on the west side, preventing enemy troops on that side from reinforcing their comrades. By accident or design, WP rounds landed in the second belt of mortar rounds. The firing on the right had built up to a crescendo when the first of the Chinese infantry broke cover. They had been advancing all morning with their companies on either side of the trail, professional troops outnumbering the Australian’s part-timers and pushing them back, ever backwards, and their confidence had grown accordingly. Now they had been flanked by a force of greater size, and a force that was not made up of reservists on their first day of war. To stand and engage them in a firefight was to court a flanking movement.. These infantry did not stop, they knew the importance of momentum in a close quarters fight and the Chinese were now on the back foot.
Driven from the trees they now came under fire from the Australian tanks and infantry up the trail, and they could not even risk a dash across the open area beneath the power lines as the forest at the other side was now a raging inferno. Those who went back the way they had come did not reappear, and those who braved the open ground received the same level of mercy as had been meted out to the Alpha tanks driver.
Lieutenant Edwards called out before standing and identifying himself to a soldier in European pattern camouflage clothing, the man was carrying an SLR with a very bloody bayonet attached to the business end. He had to shout to be heard as the flames across the way had taken hold. Lt Edwards was a native of New South Wales and no stranger to forest fires, they had to move, and fast.
Within five minutes the Wessex went from tactical mode to VBQ, run very bloody quickly mode. Issues such as a world war took second place in a forest fire if you happened to be in that particular forest at that time. The wind was blowing south easterly and the dry weather which the Chinese planners had seen as a positive factor in bypassing the roads was now working against them.
3 RGJ was digging in behind the Buckenbowra River with the River Clyde as its left flank. 1LI was on the other side of the Clyde and after the Clyde River Bridge was blown up behind them, 1 Wessex moved to the Light Infantry’s left and began to dig in also. The Royal New South Wales Regiment, Light Horse and 1st Armoured Regiment needed to reorganise and they moved to begin in-depth positions behind the British units. There was initially very little to-ing and fro-ing between the depth positions and those of the British units. But that first afternoon and evening were a no-show for the Chinese who were coping badly with a major forest fire sweeping towards units and supplies that were already ashore. As the digging was completed the work routine ended. Brews were put on and foot traffic commenced between the trenches of the Brits and Aussies. The British knew none of the tricks unique to soldiering in the field in Australia, and the Australians knew little detail of what had transpired in Germany. Bush craft and combat lore were exchanged, tips and tricks to surviving were explained, and as ever, the bullshit artists of both armies told some whoppers.
Macquarie Pass
Same time.
Pat’s estimate was on the generous side as no more than ten minutes had passed before he was informed of movement down on the plain between the forest and the coast. The sides of the pass are flanking by protrusions in the escarpment walls, like great buttresses they extend toward the plain. The most obvious of these is to the north.
Pat made his way to a rock sangar O.P at its tip where Lance Sergeant Stephanski and another familiar face were located. Bill squirrelled backwards out of the sangar to make room for the CO.
“Okay, what am I looking at?”
Macquarie Pass 2
“Either friendly forces who escaped, or captured Bradleys and assorted US vehicles, including a mobile command post, sir.”
The spotting telescope was pointing a section of the North Macquarie Road some four miles distant. It was a minor road that joined the Illawarra Highway with the northern outskirts of Port Kembla. Eleven Bradley’s and four M113 APCs with Humvees and canvas covered trucks were negotiating the narrow road.
Sgt Stephanski tapped Pat on the shoulder and pointed to the right slightly and there was the anticipated Chinese force advancing and using the Illawarra Highway as its axis of advance.
Trees and the rolling landscape were keeping the two forces hidden from one another but that would not be the case when the US Army vehicles reached the highway.
Pat had to admit that he had not really given any thought to the possibility of captured equipment being used against them, and with no radio communications he could not ascertain if they were under new ownership.
Pat had no such quandary with the Chinese armour though and on picking up the O.Ps telephone handset he gave it to Big Stef to do the necessary via the Paladin’s fire control centre. Both formations were well beyond the range of his 81mm mortars, but the 155mm battery was another thing.
Before the Paladins could open fire however, the leading Chinese tanks sighted the US Army vehicles and solved that question of ownership. They immediately opened fire.
It was fortunate that the arrival of the 155mm shells went some way towards spoiling the game for the Chinese, but they could not save the US formation from severe casualties. The boxy, high sided M577 Command vehicle was easily recognisable for what it was and targeted, it narrowly missed immediate destruction.
Three Bradleys deployed their infantry loads in an attempt to cover the withdrawal of the remainder of the convoy. With nothing to fight back with it became a dash along the highway
Macquarie Pass 3
to reach the top of the pass. The Chinese however were not going to simply permit that to happen. Harassed by the artillery they overwhelmed and destroyed the rear-guard, but lost an APC and a Type 63 tank in the process to FGM-148 Javelins.
With three burning Bradley IFVs in their wake they set off in pursuit.
The scene of the earlier ambush marked the extreme limit of the 81mm mortars range and those US vehicles which reached
that point all survived to ascend to the top of the Pass. Three more Bradley’s, an M125 Mortar carrier and Lt Col Taylor in his command vehicle were not amongst them.
Heck was sat on top of his Challengers turret watching the enemy armour and waiting for them to enter the engagement areas for his troop which he had worked out days before. Pat Reed, at a very brisk jog, past by and shouted to him a warning.
“I wouldn’t sit there if I were you young Captain.” and pointed up at the heavens as he made his way towards where the battalion CP was being dug. “For what we are about to receive, etc, etc!” he called over his shoulder.
Heck slipped inside and pulled closed the hatch. Four minutes later the first shell landed.
They did not possess anywhere near enough D10 wire to connect the Irish Guards and 902nd unit along the Jamberoo mountain road with the Macquarie Pass. As far as communications between both sites were concerned a 19th century despatch rider on a horse would have been more use than the field radios, at that point at least. The signals platoon therefore found unaffected frequencies and formulated a local DFC RANTS that got the brigade back on the air, but they still relied on the field telephone network wherever possible. Communications between 1IG and the brigade was thenceforth by radio to a vehicle at each site and these moved between transmissions. The Chinese signals intelligence section was very good at DF’ing their radio communications and their artillery cooperation was fairly impressive, making matchsticks of ten minute old transmission sites.
Artillery brought ashore by landing craft expended all of their current stock of ammunition in an attempt to provide a creeping barrage to ‘shoot-in’ the armoured assault as well as disrupt communications, but that single, steep and twisting, highway was their undoing. Heck had sited the firing positions well and his troop was able to destroy the slow moving vehicles at long range on that morning.
The elderl
y Type 63 tanks had served their purpose in making the landings a success, but their reward that of a reconnaissance by fire. The 3rd army were able to learn something of the defender’s abilities and positions, but the road was littered with a battalions worth of dead vehicles and men.
Port Kembla, New South Wales.
1343hrs, Tuesday 30th October.
Shén ēn moved slowly past the breakwater and into the main harbour of the port. Smoke still rose from the ruins of the fire gutted steelworks and tank farm beyond, destroyed by the retreating Americans. The hospital ship crept forwards, staying in the channel cleared by the naval mine disposal divers. Just inside the entrance to the main harbour the mast, funnel and the top of the superstructure of the destroyer Gémìng protruded from the water. She had been the first vessel to enter and mines had blown out her bottom.
It took a further hour to safely dock and a waiting squad of marines on the quayside came aboard and took custody of the survivors of HMAS Hooper.
Commander Reg Hollis and Able Seamen Stephanie Priestly and Phil Daly were placed in a captured Australian Army Unimog and driven through the largely empty town until they eventually arrived at a very large barbed wire enclosure. It was pretty much like the prisoner-of-war camps they had seen in the movies, complete with watch towers. Instead of huts however, there stood row upon row of steel cargo containers. Silent, curious faces stood at the wire watching the new arrivals.
Reg Hollis did not bother to try and estimate their numbers, because there were an awful lot of them.
In a hut that served as the administration block, outside the wire, the details from their identity discs were recorded before each was photographed and fingerprinted. It was a fairly nerve wracking time but at least they had not been simply taken off the ship and executed on the dock. Stephanie was particularly nervous owing to leers and comments from their captors. Commander Hollis and AB Daly placed themselves protectively either side of her.