by Leo Nix
Wiram nodded and called back across the noisy tables, “Nulla, we only know what Major Thompson said in passing. He let slip that the Abrams tanks in Adelaide were still in action, and would help in the push to clear the country. We don't have any details though, sorry.”
“Maybe when Sundown gets back from Alice Springs he might have news. I'd really like to know how my mates are going,” said Nulla.
Pellino replied, “We expect him back soon. Sergeant Ahmet keeps us informed of goings on, what he's allowed to say, anyway. He's commander of the Bushmaster stationed on the roads east and north, just outside Birdsville. Everything we want to say to Third Army goes through him now. They're a grand lot but they won't let us in on their network yet. But I believe Sundown will swing something while he's in the Alice.”
That evening there was plenty of activity as the new comers connected with Mel and Wilma. They had taken on the admin role for new arrivals while Pinkie was gone. The girls got on well and the children were happily in the care of Lulu and Danni. Granny and Polly were still active enough, they didn't take up the girls time as much as the others had.
Donna spent most of her time as Wiram's assistant. She was busy with Andy, Harry and Wiram planning and preparing the patrols. Logistics was critical and she was in her element fussing over the boys and yet still being one of them.
But life never stands still for anyone. The city 'house rats' had yet to unpack their gear when news came of an assault to the south. Their dream of sanctuary was in serious trouble of evaporating.
At first light next morning, Andy ran into the dining room and found Wiram with a few other early risers having breakfast.
“Sorry to upset you but it seems our Bravo Team and One One Charlie on the Birdsville Track are under heavy fire. Sergeant Doff's radioman said the Bushmaster was hit and the terrorist's new battalion, the Stosstruppen, are pushing through their ambush line. The Patrol One post has passed on the report and have asked for support in case they're hit too. Wiram, I need to talk to you, Cambra, Assassin and Ahmet”
Andy then turned and spoke to the rest of the commando having an early breakfast, “Folks, please finish your meals and then wake everyone. This is serious.”
Chapter 14 - Stosstruppen Storm Troopers
Sundown had gone away with Pinkie on their second honeymoon and with him went Shadow and McFly with Billie as guide. They drove one of the Toyota Defenders and as support they had Captain Lewis and his Bushmaster, One One Alpha. Major Thompson accompanied Sundown's convoy in the ASLAV, complete with a replica battle flag stuck on the inside of his turret. Painstakingly stitched on the flag were the words: 'Mount Isa'.
Bushmaster One One Bravo (Sergeant Ahmet) and One One Charlie (Sergeant Doff) remained, as the major promised, to strengthen the approaches north and south of Birdsville. One One Charlie was based on the Birdsville Track to cover the road from Marree; while One One Bravo took up position to secure the north and east routes into Birdsville from Mt Isa and Longreach.
Sergeant Doff's One One Bravo ran hit-and-run patrols on the Birdsville track. Thus far they had done a great job annoying the Marree Revelationist camp over the past months. So much so that Major Daniels had decided to step up the training of his beloved Stosstruppen, storm troopers. He planned to hit back, and hit back hard.
The Stosstruppen were first introduced by the German army in the later stages of the 1st World War. They consisted of highly trained soldiers using tactics that incorporated massed grenade attacks to clear enemy strong points. Small squads of elite troops trained in manoeuvring around strongly held bunkers and cutting them off from their rear supports and reinforcements. Rapid assault or 'storms' would out-flank and out-fight their opponents in fixed positions.
Used as shock-troops they were trained to infiltrate against the toughest opposition. Their rapid and aggressive skirmishing could push through any opposition not strong enough or wilful enough to hold them at bay.
Chan and John went on patrol with Halo and Beamy soon after Sundown left for Alice Springs. This was Beamy's first patrol since his injuries. He had to convince Wiram and Pellino that he was not only fit enough but had the strength back in his shoulders and legs to get though a week of hard living and riding his trail bike in tough desert terrain.
To his credit, Beamy worked harder than anyone at his fitness. His recovery was painful under the supervision of his girlfriend, Lorraine. He'd recovered his lung capacity and strength, and movement in his wounded shoulder, sufficiently to fire accurately and manage himself in the hardest terrain. His demonstration for Sundown was not just good luck, he was a crack shot and proud of it.
Sergeant Doff was crew chief to the armoured troop-carrier, Bushmaster One One Charlie, operating as both stationary and active patrol. He worked in with the mobile bike commando and spent a lot of time with Wiram and Cambra developing strategy for defense and assault. Their orders were to keep the enemy busy chasing their tails, preventing them massing to attack Birdsville with their battalion strength force, now based at Marree.
By now everyone knew Chan and John were ex-Deaths Head Revelationists. Even though the soldiers weren't too comfortable associating with them, they learned to respect their skill and acknowledged their deep hatred of their former comrades. To make sure they were accepted the two boys worked harder than anyone else and took on the most difficult and unpleasant tasks, be it guard duty or patrolling.
The plan was to attack every patrol that set out on the Birdsville Track. The two squads headed down to Mungerannie, a small hot water spring complete with hotel, about half way between Birdsville and Marree.
This was Pellino and Mel's hotel which had been their home for most of their married lives. Sadly they pulled up their roots for Birdsville many months ago. By switching ambush sites and style of assault the commando hoped to prevent the enemy from being able to predict when and where they'd next be hit.
On this particular night, One One Charlie took up a hull-down position opposite the track in a particularly scrubby section of road. The bike patrol and Bushmaster hid several land mines in the road surface and selected their ambush behind a set of low sand dunes overlooking the track. Early in the pre-dawn morning an enemy patrol was seen travelling at speed towards their ambush site.
“Halo!” called Sergeant Doff, “we have four trucks and one Jeep approaching. ETA two minutes. Prepare for contact and pull back to your bikes as soon as we've done some damage.” The sergeant took command of most of the contacts now and the boys respected his knowledge of all things military.
Sergeant Doff saw service in Afghanistan and Iraq as well as the Solomon Islands in the south pacific. He was an experienced and gifted strategist, well respected by his men. Most of the Alice Springs Command preferred to serve under Doff than most of the other troop commanders, except Tobi and Ahmet. These three sergeants all had fighting experience and the men's respect.
Chan had his Blaser sniper rifle out and sighted on the last truck; Halo had given his machine gun over to Beamy and was happy to be his number two. John took to the Javelin, after they'd captured more ammunition his accuracy rose with each ambush - he was deadly.
Four of Doff's soldiers remained back at their standing ambush site, Patrol One, on the Birdsville Track near the Cooper Creek crossing. But such was the commando's confidence that they didn't think they needed the full contingency there. They did what they usually did - hit hard then run back to the standing ambush site, Patrol One. There they would prepare to ambush again, if the enemy had the stomach for it.
All communication was now in code and Birdsville home-base knew of their every movement. Unless the contact was approved by Wiram, Doff, Ahmet and Andy it was a no-go. No one pushed Wiram to do anything. He was as firm as Sergeant Doff. Together with Sergeant Ahmet they ran the entire patrolling operation like a well oiled machine.
“No lights so they must have light-enhanced vision boys. We'd better be extra careful with this. We hit and then we run like buggery,” c
alled Sergeant Doff, who now knew things may just turn a little sour if he was right.
He turned to his radio operator, “Ivan, get onto Assassin and tell him we might need backup asap. We'll meet them at Patrol One on the Cooper. The bastards appear to have night vision. I've got a bad feeling about this contact.” Doff was about to call for Chan and John to remove the land mines when he saw the enemy patrol speed up as it approached.
“Bastards have seen us, they've got infra-red too!” he yelled.
Doff called out to the biker patrol, “They've got night vision and infra-red boys! Get your heads down and only come back up when you hear the land mines explode.” He saw their heads nod, acknowledging they'd heard him. “Then we hit and then we frigging run. Got it? Fire two full magazines then grab your bikes and get going. One One Charlie will stay to finish off any survivors. I don't want any bikers staying back, got it?”
The four bike patrol boys nodded as they eased their blackened faces towards the sand.
The convoy approached, possibly hoping to race past as fast as they could, but the Jeep in the lead hit the first landmine and flew into the air. The four trucks behind skidded trying to avoid the debris.
Beamy opened up with his machine gun, raking the trucks to keep any organised resistance in check. The Bushmaster 7.62 mm machine gun was working the trucks over killing and injuring the terrorists as they exited. But in the heat of the battle no one noticed the second convoy approaching.
John was searching for a suitable target for his Javelin, anti-tank missile, when he noticed another set of trucks pulling up not one hundred metres away. Out jumped a platoon of Stosstruppen and they began to skirmish forwards. As one squad ran forward the other provided covering fire. John knew that when they got to within grenade throwing distance the commando would be in big trouble.
“STOSSTRUPPEN! Sixty metres south! Doff, time to move!” John knew it was too late to find a target so he quickly disarmed his missile and began to pack it up. Incoming fire began to scream off the Bushmaster's armoured sides. The ambushers did what they had done a hundred times already, they faded back towards their bikes.
The Bushmaster began to back out of it's hull-down position when a missile slammed into it's armoured side and exploded. Pieces of metal and vehicle parts flew through the air. It hadn't penetrated but it shook everyone up and the concussion shattered the fuel pump and the engine died.
Doff knew his beloved Bushmaster was stuffed so he bashed open the rear hatch and helped his mates stagger out. Their ears bleeding and their heads reeling from the concussion. He couldn't hear a thing but his instincts told him he had but seconds to get out before a second missile hit. This time it would surely penetrate and shatter anyone left inside.
He reached back and gathered an armful of ammunition and water bottles. For a second he considered going back for food but he thought better of it and ran. He only just made it to the bikes when a second missile hit the Bushmaster and it exploded in a roar of heat and flames.
“Strewth!” he cried looking around frantically, “where's driver Luddin? Where's Luddin?” Screams rent the air and he knew where his driver was. Doff went cold inside. Corporal Luddin was one of his best mates, a great card player and one of the personalities of the cavalry squadron. Sergeant Doff deliberately closed his mind down, down, deep down, then he turned to join his remaining troopers.
Four bikes and eight men. John had the good sense to destroy his beloved Javelin. Chan hurriedly placed each Bushmaster crewman with one of the bikes and amid the incoming bullets and grenades they took off to the north east.
It was not their best retreat but they'd had close calls before and survived. This should be just another one. But they didn't see the third convoy arrive and spew out another platoon of Stosstruppen who quickly moved forward into a second skirmish formation. They too opened fire at the retreating biker warriors.
Bullets thudded into bodies and Beamy felt his crewman fall off his bike. He immediately pulled up and grabbed at his machine gun to run back to his mate. But it was too late, the enemy had taken up position and were firing into the scrub towards him. It was way too hot to get back on the bike to escape. Beamy gently put his hand on his mate's throat and checked his pulse, he was alive but it wasn't good.
“Shit, Danny! Move, mate!” But Danny could only groan in reply, bubbles of blood foamed around his mouth.
Beamy positioned himself and his machine gun on the sand dune in front of Danny and began firing at the dark heads he could see bobbling towards him in the pale, dawn light. He could hear the sounds as his bullets hit their mark in the bodies of his enemy, but there were too many of them. His ammunition ran out and he grabbed another belt, fed it through, it took too much time. The silence of his machine gun encouraged the Stosstruppen to push forward and they began encircling Beamy's position.
He opened fire again forcing some of the enemy to drop to the ground. They began calling out to each other, pinpointing the machine gun's position. Within seconds four grenades were in the air heading towards Beamy and his mate lying on the side of the sand dune. Beamy knew he would die but continued firing, he would never leave a mate. It was an unwritten law now, no commando left their mates behind.
One grenade exploded prematurely as soon as it left the hand of it's thrower, knocking three Stosstruppen to the ground. The second landed on the front side of the dune, it's explosion showered sand over the two commandos. The shock wave knocked Beamy's confidence and he leaned over to shake his mate. There was no response and he put his hand on his throat again to feel for a pulse, there was none. The third grenade landed four or five metres in a hollow to the left of him. The last grenade didn't explode, it was a dud.
Beamy made a decision and acted, like he was taught. He had the machine gun in his hands and ducked down low as he raced back to his bike. Bullets zipped past his shoulder and head as he picked up speed and headed in the direction of his retreating squad. He felt tears streaming down his cheek knowing he had left behind a mate and every lost mate was one less to protect those he loved.
He swore as he skidded in the soft sand and almost stalled. The desperate commando put his foot down and pushed hard on the sand spinning his back wheel raising a sheet of wet sand. Bullets continued to zip past him. He knew that if it wasn't an overcast dawn he'd probably be dead by now.
The rest of the ambush squad were nearly five hundred metres away. They pulled up on Sergeant Doff's command. Three bikes and six men, two wounded barely able to hold on, and Doff had a serious problem: Beamy and his crewman were missing.
“Listen, that's Beamy firing! Shit! We've got to go back!” Halo stood his bike up and kicked it alive but Sergeant Doff put his hand on his shoulder.
“Halo, we've been outplayed, mate. We're badly outnumbered and we need to get these wounded back to the standing patrol. Beamy will have to…” he stopped talking because he couldn't say it.
“Fuck that! He's my mate!” Halo jammed his wrist around the throttle and sped back towards the ambush. Chan and John looked at each other then spun their bikes around too.
“Doff, we have to go back, he's our mate and we don't leave our mates behind,” called Chan as the two boys dropped their passengers to speed after Halo.
The big sergeant nodded, he was both glad and horrified at what had happened. He'd seen many a fire-fight, some were very close calls but this one shook him up. He knew that if a soldier couldn't rely on his mates to go back for him, then they were all lost. Sergeant Doff helped his wounded crewmen to sit comfortably. By his red-light torch he began to patch them up as he listened to the growing roar of battle.
Halo could see the tracers of Beamy's machine gun smashing into the bushes and scrub around the ambush site. That's where the bastards are coming from, he thought. Although he couldn't see anything in the fading darkness, he knew to follow the sounds and origins of the tracer. He stopped to get his bearings just as Chan and John pulled up next to him. Halo turned to them, nodded then poi
nted to Beamy's position but the tracers stopped and they heard three grenade explosions.
John called out, “We might be too late!” He opened his throttle and sped forward, the other two were right behind him.
They stopped once more on a tall sand dune to look across the battlefield to get their bearings. In the pale light they saw Beamy on his bike riding towards them. His head was down and he skidded and ploughed through the sand and the scrub.
“Quick, covering fire!” cried Chan as he unhitched his sniper rifle and began firing at the muzzle flashes. The enemy were forming ready to assault Beamy's position from front and both sides. John and Halo opened up with their AK's and although the range was a bit too far for accurate sniping, they were experienced enough to accommodate for the distance and scored enough hits to slow the advance.
Beamy hadn't seen his friends yet and was still swearing to himself at his precarious situation. He was also terrified of being hit again. His insides were turning to mush and he felt he might soil himself. He tucked up his anus muscles as tightly as he could, then crouched even further down over his handle bars to make himself as small a target as possible.
Even so, he was hit again, and it hurt worse than he ever remembered being hurt before in his life.
The young biker only had another ten or more metres to go and he would have been hidden by the sand dune which Halo and his commando's were firing from. They were providing covering fire with all they had in them. The bullet went though his side, hit one of his ribs and continued along it to exit near his nipple.
“You frigging bastards!” he screamed as he collapsed over his handlebars. It felt like someone had held a flaming brand against his rib cage and chest. He lost control of the bike tumbling face first into the sand.
“Beamy! Beamy! Are you OK?” he heard the voices calling from only a few metres away. The young rigger looked up to see his rescuers, his mates, and he was overwhelmed.