by Harold Coyle
Without waiting for a response, Bannon climbed out and began to dismount the tank. The spaghetti cord connecting the CVC to the intercom jerked his head back to remind him to disconnect it before jumping off 55. Once disconnected and on the ground, he headed for the first leader he saw, Polgar. Polgar was asleep, leaning against the side of a tree with his Ml6 cradled in his arms. After being shaken a moment, his eyes opened into narrow slits, looked to the left, looked to the right, looked at Bannon, then flew wide open. "SHIT! I fell asleep."
"Well, Sergeant Polgar, you ain't alone. Wake up the XO and your people while I get the tank crews. Gather the leadership at 55 when they're up. AND DON'T START ANY ENGINES.
Clear?"
"Clear." With that, Polgar was up in a flash, hustling from body to body, waking each one up with kicks, shakes, and curses. Bannon trotted over to 31.
Garger was leaning over backwards, asleep, arms extended and stiff. He looked as if he had been shot. "Gerry! Gerry! Lieutenant Garger! WAKE UP!" His eyes opened in tiny slits.
Like Polgar, he looked at Bannon for a moment, then jumped upright. "OH SHIT!" It occurred to Bannon that "Oh shit!" was fast becoming the standard greeting for the Team instead of good morning. If their predicament wasn't so serious, this whole situation would have been comical.
"Gerry, get the rest of the tank crews up and have the TCs meet me over at 55. And tell the TCs not to crank the tanks." As Bannon was getting off, Garger reached down and kicked his gunner in the back, telling him to wake up.
As he headed back to 55, Bannon began to work on a way out of this one. There would be no slipping away under the cover of darkness. If the Team moved, it would be in broad daylight, just like yesterday. That thought was disturbing. But staying here to face a new series of Russian attacks was equally distasteful. The collapse of the Team's security confirmed his belief that it was at the end of its tether. The Russians were sure to come back with more people and tanks. Bannon didn't dare face a wounded bear with a handful of punch-drunk soldiers. They had to pull out, the sooner the better.
Once the leaders were together, he issued his orders. The Team would go out the way they had planned. Since the Soviets had not hit them from the south, that was the direction the Team would take. The 55 and 31 would lead, traveling abreast once they were in the open.
The PCs would come next, in the center, followed by 24 and 22. The Team would move around the west side of the hill that had been Objective LOG and go back into friendly lines the same way they had come out. The only difference in the plan was that rather than creep along in an effort to sneak out, they would roll as fast as the PCs would allow. In addition, the tanks would fire up their smoke generators and blow smoke the entire way back. While 55 and 31 would be exposed to the front and flank, the PCs and the other two tanks would be hidden in a rolling cloud of smoke.
As they were about to break up and return to their vehicles, a volley of artillery fire impacted to the south in the vicinity of Hill 214. Everyone turned in that direction. When a second volley confirmed their fears, all eyes turned back on Bannon. They had been too late. The Russians were coming back.
"All right. Sergeant Polgar, you come with me. We're going to go up there and see what's going on. Bob, you're in charge while we're gone. Be ready to crank up and roll if the Russians come. Until then, stay alert and keep quiet. If the
Russians come before we're back, leave without us. Move in the opposite direction until you're in the open. Then carry out the plan as we have discussed. Any questions?"
There were none. What else could they do? Bannon turned to Polgar. "Do you have an extra M 16?"
"Yes, sir. I can take one from one of the wounded."
"Good, get me one, a couple of magazines, and meet me back here, pronto." Polgar went over to one of the tracks. Bannon turned to Uleski. "Bob, no heroics. If there's trouble, and we're not back, get out of here. Clear?" "Clear."
By the time he had his helmet and web gear on, Polgar was back with the rifle. After inserting a magazine and chambering a round, the two turned and started to head south.
Polgar followed Bannon at a distance of five meters and a little to his right. The assembled leaders watched them for a moment before Uleski bellowed out the order to mount up and be ready to move.
After they had gone a hundred meters, the artillery stopped. He and Polgar paused and squatted down to listen for a moment. The sound of tracked vehicles could be heard to the south. Bannon motioned to Polgar. They continued on. As they were nearing the crest of the hill and the tree line, he saw movement to his front. Instinctively, he dropped into a prone firing position behind the nearest tree. Both he and Polgar watched and waited. To the left Bannon noticed a movement. Then there was more to the front at a distance of fifty meters.
As they watched, a line of figures approached through the woods. He turned to Polgar and whispered, "When I start shooting, run like hell back to the XO and tell him to go east out of here. " Polgar thought about it. "You're the Team commander, I'll cover you. You go back and tell the XO."
"Damn it, Polgar, I gave you an order. You better be ready to move when I let go. Clear?" Polgar didn't reply. He only nodded.
Bannon turned back to watch the line of figures continue forward. Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out the two frag grenades he had taken off 66 before destroying it.
He raised the M 16 up to his shoulder and began to sight in on the nearest figure. This was going to be a very short fight.
As Bannon watched the figure in his sight, it occurred to him that the uniform was very familiar. It was camouflage. Then he noticed the rifle. It was an M 16. They were Americans. He turned to Polgar and whispered, "Americans." Polgar stuck his head up a little higher, looked, and then smiled.
Remembering the day before, he was a little more cautious in making contact. He let the line of infantry get within twenty meters and then bellowed out, "HALT!"
The line of infantry froze where they stood, ready to drop and fire. Their heads slowly turned to find the origin of the voice.
"Advance and be recognized."
Their heads snapped as one in Bannon's direction. He slowly rose up to the kneeling position but kept his rifle trained on the nearest man. He began to move toward him. When he was close enough, Bannon repeated the order,
"Halt." At that point, he was unable to recall the challenge and password.
He had to do something fast before the people in front of him got excited and fired. "We're Team Yankee, Task Force First of the Seventy Eight. We were cut off. Who are you?" Bannon kept his rifle aimed at the figure.
"What's the challenge?"
"I don't know. We were cut off yesterday. I'm Captain Bannon, the team commander." The infantry was beginning slowly to spread out. Things were not working out well at all.
From behind, Polgar called out, "Hey, Kerch. Is that your mob of dirt bags out there?"
The infantryman in front of Bannon straightened up, let the muzzle of his rifle drop some, and turned toward Polgar's voice. "Polgar, is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me. Now tell your mob to ease up so the captain and I can get up." With that, Polgar stood up and began to come over to where Sergeant First Class Kerch, A company 1st of the 78th Mechanized Infantry, and Bannon had been holding each other at bay. Team Yankee had been relieved.
Polgar led Kerch and his people through the woods to where Team Yankee was located.
Bannon went up to the top of Hill 214 where the battalion command group was. It occurred to him as he followed the trail to the top of the hill that he'd been here for over twenty hours, had fought for the hill and done his damnedest to hold it and had never been on top of it. He was finally going to see what the Team had paid for so dearly. At the wood line he passed the tracks from a platoon of the 1 st of the 78th that had been attached to the I st of the 4th Armor. They were waiting for word to go in and pick up the dismounted element he and Polgar had encountered. Just below the crest of the hill, two tanks a
nd a PC sat, peering over the top toward Arnsdorf below. There were three figures standing next to the PC looking at a map board. When one of the figures looked up and saw Bannon approaching, he motioned. The other two looked up, put down the map board, and started towards him. They were the battalion commander, XO, and S-3 of the 1 st Battalion, 4th Armor, Team Yankee's parent battalion. As he closed, Bannon saluted and, as nonchalantly as possible, greeted Team Yankee's saviors.
"Sean, Colonel Reynolds told us you had been wiped out last night." "Sir, the news of our demise has been greatly exaggerated. D company is reporting for duty." Not that they could do anything but, what the hell, it sounded good.
Maj. Frank Shell, the S-3, looked him over for a moment, then turned to the battalion commander. "If the rest of his people look as bad as Sean, the infantry was right, Team Yankee was wiped out." Then he turned back to Bannon and, seriously this time, asked if the rest of the Team did look like him. Bannon's eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles around them. Every exposed patch of skin was dirty. He had two days' growth of beard. The cut on the side of his face had become swollen from infection, and there was dried blood on his face and neck and around his collar. There was also dried blood on the chest and sleeves of his chemical suit from pulling Ortelli from 66. This was mixed with diesel and oil stains. Bannon guessed he couldn't have looked much worse. As they walked over to the PC, he explained the Team's situation and requested that an ambulance be sent immediately to the trail junction to bring out the wounded. The battalion XO got on it and had an M-113 ambulance rumbling down to the Team in minutes. They stopped by the tanks and looked down into Arnsdorf. There were still wisps of smoke rising from some of the burned-out Soviet vehicles. Scores of dead Russians littered the field among the smashed vehicles. The battalion commander looked at Bannon, "I take it you did that last night."
"Yeah. With a little help. Very little help," he replied without turning away. It all seemed so remote now, so foreign. Bannon had difficulty equating the scene before him with the horror show that had been last night. He gazed up at the clear blue morning sky, across the valley to the green hill to the north, and then at the battalion commander. "Yes, sir. We did that and more."
After the battalion commander and XO left to go down into Arnsdorf and follow the attack, Major Shell updated Bannon on what had happened since yesterday morning and how 1st of the 4th had come into play. The Mech Battalion that Team Yankee was part of had become spread out all over the division's rear during the night road march. While passing through one of the villages at night, part of the column had taken a wrong turn. The people leading the two line companies, C and D, the battalion trains, and the battalion CP all realized their mistakes at different times and tried to get back onto the proper route separately. This led to confusion and more errors, just as the first sergeant had reported.
D company was the first to show up and join Team Bravo on its overwatch position at 1730 last night. C company went into the rear areas of the German panzer division that was to the south of the division, got turned around, and then ran out of fuel. It never reached its destination, being held in the rear as part of the division reserve. The battalion trains pulled in at night but never told anyone. Major Jordan found them by accident in the area where they were supposed to be. The S-4, in charge of the trains, thought the battalion was still under radio listening silence, never realizing the net had been jammed, and the battalion had moved to another frequency. Team Bravo, which had been in position to support Yankee, moved up to LOG but was thrown off in the late morning by a dismounted counterattack from Lemm.
When all this had been sorted out by the battalion and brigade commanders, it was decided to pull the 1st of the 78th Mech out and throw in the 1 st of the 4th Armor. As Team Bravo was combat ineffective, and everyone thought that, except for recovered tracks, Team Yankee was gone, the I st of the 78th was sent to the rear to reconstitute and act as reserve.
The 1st of the 4th relieved the Mech Battalion at 0300, just after the battle of Hill 214, and began its attack at 0530, just before the Team woke up. Major Shell told Bannon that he, the commander, and the XO were trying to figure out what had happened to all the Russians that the 1 st of the 78th had reported and who had done all the damage in Arnsdorf when Bannon showed up.
The good news from this comedy of errors was that Team Bravo held LOG long enough for First Sergeant Harrert to gather up the Team's wounded and recover those tracks that had only been damaged. To Bannon's surprise, he found out that First Sergeant Harrert had four tanks and two PCs, including the HQ PC, in varying states of repair. In the attack against LOG, Team Yankee had had only two tanks totally destroyed, 21 and 66, one PC, the 1 st Squad of the Mech Platoon, and the FIST track. For casualties, not counting the men who were killed on Hill 214, the Team had lost fifteen killed and six wounded. The number of killed seemed staggering and out of proportion. But as he thought about it, it made sense.
Tank 21 and the infantry PC alone accounted for thirteen of the dead.
While Bannon pondered the Team's good fortune, Major Shell contacted brigade and received orders for Team Yankee. The Team was to road march to the rear and join the 1 st of the 78th in reserve. He gave Bannon the location of the Mech Battalion's new CP in the rear and the route the Team was to use. Bannon asked for and received permission to stop by the 1 st of the 4th1s combat trains and pick up some diesel. With a battalion to run, the S-3 had to go. He told Bannon to get the cut on his face taken care of while the Team was refueling at the trains and wished him luck. The S-3 mounted his PC, they exchanged salutes, and then he rolled down into Arnsdorf to join his commander. Bannon went back to Team Yankee, relieved in every sense of the word.
The formal portion of the morning briefing at the Tenth Corps Headquarters was over. The commanding general got up and walked over to the two maps that were displayed before him. On the large-scale map the overall situation in Germany was displayed. It was not good. In the NORTHAG, or Northern Army Group, area the Soviets were fast approaching the Dutch border. Hamburg and Bremerhaven had fallen. Though there had not been a breakthrough, several portions of the front were threatened with collapse. Already two corps commanders had requested the release of tactical nuclear weapons in order to break up concentrations of Warsaw Pact units. Follow-on Soviet, Polish, and East German units were moving toward the front to resume the attack.
The CENTAG or Central Army Group area, where the Tenth Corps operated, was much better. The terrain there was not the best for armored warfare. In addition, French forces were readily at hand and beginning to reach the front.
Turning to his small-scale map that depicted the corps' area of operation and current situation, he began to run his finger along the front line trace of his units, stopping every so often to study Warsaw Pact forces that were opposing the corps. At one point, he stopped his finger on a group of Soviet units and turned to his Intel officer. "George, these people here, you said that they are continuing west?"
"Yes, sir. We expect them to be in the vicinity of Kassel by tomorrow morning at the latest unless we can get the Air Force to delay them." "What's coming up behind them, George?
Who is going to be in the Leipzig area two to four days from now?"
"Well, sir, right now, no one. There is one Polish division here that could be in that area, but that's about it."
Without turning away from the map and motioning with his hand, the general began to issue instructions to his operations officer. "Frank, get your Plans people to work on an attack centered around the 21 st Panzer Division. As soon as the French relieve it, I want the 21st to move here and attack north into the Thuringer Wald. The mission of the 21 st is to breach the Soviet security screen and then cross the Inner German Boundary here. The second phase of the operation will be a passage of lines by the 52nd or 54th Division with orders to continue the attack north across the Saale River towards Leipzig. I want this operation to commence in three days. Have your people prepared to present me a de
cision briefing by 1800 hours tonight. What are your questions?"
The operations officer studied the map for a moment, then turned to the general, "Sir, can I plan on using the 25th Armored Division? Also, how far do you want us to plan after we reach Leipzig?"
"Frank, I want your plan to use everything we've got. For planning purposes you will consider our axis of advance from where we are to Leipzig, Berlin, and finally the Baltic coast. If I can convince the CINC, we're going to go for broke."
Without further ado, the briefing broke up, staff officers scurrying in all directions to prepare for the evening briefing.
The road march was uneventful. Team Yankee had fortyfive kilometers to cover and could have done it in an hour had it not been for the traffic. As Team Yankee was going to the rear this time, and its road march had not been scheduled by the division's movement control center, it was bumped by higher priority traffic going to the front or wounded headed for the rear. It was amazing how many vehicles there were driving around in division's rear. As they sat on the side of the road waiting for a convoy to go by before the Team could move again, Garger wondered if someone was really in charge of all this. There were long convoys of supply and fuel trucks, artillery batteries, columns of ambulances moving rearward, a field hospital moving forward, engineers all over, and equipment he had never seen before and whose purpose he had no idea of. That an army could bring order out of this apparent chaos, keep people fed, vehicles fueled, and units arriving at the right place at the right time was a source of wonder to him.
The biggest problem Bannon had during the long pauses while the Team waited for a break in the traffic was waking everyone up when it was time to move. It seemed that each time they stopped, the men fell over asleep. Once, when a break in the traffic appeared, it took so long to wake everyone up that by the time they were ready to roll, a new convoy came by and the Team had to wait again. The men immediately went back to sleep.