by Harold Coyle
Unfortunately, the road was better than what the division would eventually have to depend upon for a supply route. Once into Iran, the 89th MRD would advance twenty kilometers to Kariz, then strike southwest for Birjand, 155 kilometers to the southwest across desert, with dirt roads and goat trails the division's only link with the rear.
It was the job of Kurpov's scout-car platoon to find the best goat trails and mark them for the 208th Motorized Rifle Regiment that would follow him on the division's western axis. The other scout-car platoon of the company would do the same thing to the east, leading the 209th MRR. If at all possible, the division commander wanted to keep the division on two different axes of advance. Kurpov had his doubts as to whether they could do that. There just weren't that many decent roads or trails.
Movement to Kurpov's left interrupted his thoughts. He turned to watch three BMP infantry-fighting vehicles from the battalion's BMP company creep forward up the spine of a low ridge into firing positions. Four more square, squat BMPs sat just off the road, engines idling, in a wadi. The squeaking of sprockets and tracks and the rumble of the BMPs' engines cut through the predawn quiet. To Kurpov, the noise was enough to wake the dead.
He turned and looked at the Iranian border post again to see whether the guards had also heard the noise. The two Iranians who had been on duty for the last two hours were still there, in the same positions they had assumed when they relieved their comrades. One was leaning up against the side of the building, arms folded and rifle slung over his shoulder. The second was sitting in a chair at the pole barrier with his rifle across his lap and his head hanging. Kurpov was sure they were asleep. He looked up from his binoculars back to the BMPs moving into position. They were ready. A quick glance at his watch showed there were only two minutes left. He turned his body toward the BMPs in the wadi. With a red-filtered flashlight, Kurpov signaled to the commander of the BMPs-two short flashes, which meant that the Iranians did not appear to be alert. The commander waved back in acknowledgment.
His role finished for the moment, Kurpov looked beyond the BMPs in the wadi, toward the east. Although he couldn't see a thing, he knew that there were over twelve thousand men and thousands of tracked and wheeled vehicles hidden in wadis and behind sand dunes, ready to rush forward into enemy territory. Just as the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon, the chatter of three machine guns, followed by the boom of a BMP's 73mm. main gun, split the dawn silence. Kurpov swung back around and looked toward the border post in time to see the first 73mm. round hit the building. He put the binoculars up to his eyes and searched for the two border guards who had been on duty. A bright-red splotch was on the wall of the building where the one guard had been leaning. The guard who had been in the chair at the pole barrier had been knocked over backward and was sprawled across the road. Other Iranians began to rush out of the building, only to be cut down in a hail of machine-gun fire.
The four BMPs in the wadi revved their engine and rolled out onto either side of the road. Once on line, they began to fire their machine guns.
Though not as accurate as the BMPs that were firing from the stationary positions, they appeared to be more threatening as they moved forward.
Two more Iranians came out of the building-now enveloped in flames-with their hands up. But their gestures were ignored as all seven BMPs turned their machine guns on them.
Kurpov let his binoculars drop slowly. For a moment, he took in the whole scene before him. The BMPs were now passing the burning building. As they went by, the two nearest the building turned their turrets toward it and sprayed it with machine-gun fire. The bodies of a dozen Iranians lay strewn about, cut down before they had had a chance to fire a single round.
So, this is war. Kurpov held that thought as he scrambled down the sand dune to his BRDM reconnaissance vehicle.
Headquarters, 2nd Brigade, 25th Armored Division, Fort Hood, Texas 0730 Hours, 25 May (1330 Hours, 25 May, GMT)
The conference room was slowly filling with commanders and staff officers of the St. with Brigade, so called be cause of the stand its heraldic predecessor had made at Saint-with, Belgium, against overwhelming odds during World War II. The brigade executive officer stood at the front of the room giving last-minute directions to the enlisted men setting up the room, while mentally taking note of who was still missing from the orders group.
As his eyes swept the room, they stopped when he came to the brigade assistant intelligence officer off to the side, going over briefing notes.
The intelligence officer, or S-2, could not be contacted, off camping somewhere. Ordinarily this situation would have been chalked up to poor timing or bad luck and left to the assistant to handle. But both the brigade commander and the executive officer had serious reservations about the ability of this assistant S-2, First Lieutenant Matthews-who not only was new to the staff, recently transferred from the 10th Corps G-2 section, but was the first female officer to serve on the brigade staff.
Despite years of equal-opportunity training and the slow evolutionary change of the character of the U.S. Army, the XO was ill at ease having Lieutenant Matthews on the staff. At five foot seven, Amanda Matthews had a figure that looked good even in her baggy BDUs. Her short blond hair framed a face that could only be described as stunning. The XO thought how terribly out of place she seemed. In a few minutes they would be talking about war, a real war that was going on as they sat there. A war that they were preparing to join. One tour in the closing days of Vietnam had shown the XO what war could do to people, mentally as well as physically. In his mind, he could not picture Lieutenant Matthews in battle. At home, yes.
Modeling on Madison Avenue, yes. Crawling along a ditch, under fire, in some Godforsaken country, no. Lieutenant Matthews looked up at that moment and met his eyes. The XO felt himself blush, then turned away to continue his check of who was still missing.
Lieutenant Matthews paused for a moment and continued to stare at the XO. She knew what was going on in his mind: Is she good enough to do the job? How well will she hold up when the shit really hits the fan?..
Nothing changed. Every time she came into a unit, from 20 her first day at West Point to her assignments at Fort Hood, she had had to fight the same attitude. At least in the past she had not been the first or the only female officer in the unit. This assignment, however, was different. Since coming down to the brigade, she had been treated with the respect due an officer but not the confidence or trust that was accorded to the other junior staff officers. She had been warned by friends of hers on the staff of the 25th Armored Division that the brigade commander and the S-2 had fought tool and nail against her assignment. They had even stated that it was better to leave the position open rather than put a female in a tactical headquarters that would operate as far forward as the brigade would. In the end, the division commander had told the brigade commander to shut up and accept her. This he did, but reluctantly and with barely concealed hostility.
She had been warned it was not going to be easy. She felt, however, as if she were starting with two strikes against her.
Feeling rage slowly building, Lieutenant Matthews turned her thoughts away from her plight and to the notes she had for the briefing. She knew she was ready, having spent most of the previous night at corps G-2 reviewing every bit of information coming in on Soviet activities and Iranian reactions.
She had rummaged through the files, dragging out every old intelligence report and study on the area that she could find. Her preparation even included a trip to the post library, where she had pulled everything she could find on Iran, from National Geographic articles to area study books.
Maps of Iran were at a premium that day on Fort Hood. Everyone wanted one.
That's where having friends in the right place paid off. The 2nd Brigade was probably the only brigade in the corps that had a full range of maps not only of Iran but of the Gulf states and the southern USSR.
With the XO's announcement "Gentlemen, the brigade commander," the bri
efing began. After being introduced by the XO, Lieutenant Matthews began her briefing with an overview of the topography and demographics of Iran. "Iran lies on a large plateau bordered in the south by the Persian Gulf, in the north by the Caspian Sea and the Soviet Union, in the west by Turkey and Iraq, and in the east by Afghanistan and Pakistan.
Major terrain features are the Zagros Mountains that start in the northwest and run southwest, parallel with the Iraqi border, to the Persian Gulf. The second major mountain range, the Elburz Mountains, also starts in the northwest but runs almost due east, where it ends just short of Afghanistan.
In the center of the country, between the two mountain ranges, are two large deserts, the Dasht-e-Kavir, or Great Salt Desert, in the north and the Dasht-e-Lut to the south. Dasht is a word used for the gravel slopes that surround the kavir, a salt crust that covers marshes of black mud.
As the crust is easily broken, many parts of these deserts remain unexplored.
Iran's oil reserves are concentrated in the southwest near the Iraqi border, and offshore in the Persian Gulf.
"Less than fourteen percent of the country receives over fifty-two percent of the annual rainfall. This is mostly in the northwest, in the area that runs from Tehran to the Soviet and Turkish borders. Even though the land is quite mountainous, it is in this region, in the valleys, that the majority of the population and agriculture is located. Temperatures range from below the freezing point during the winter to a high of one hundred thirty two degrees in the summer, but there are parts of the Elburz Mountains where snow never disappears."
Lieutenant Matthews stopped for a moment while her NCO changed maps to show population densities and divisions. She looked at both the brigade commander and the XO to see whether they were tracking the briefing. The XO gave her a nod of approval.
"Last estimates place the population at approximately thirty-five million.
Because of the growth rate and the generally poor quality of the medical care, the population is an extremely young one, with a median age in the low twenties. While the majority of the population in the central region is
Persian with Indo-European origins, there are several minorities. The most important of these are the Turkomans in the northwest, who are interrelated with other members of this group in both Turkey and the Soviet Union; the Kurds in the west, who are related to compatriots in Iraq; and the Baluchis in the southeast, who are related to the Baluchis in
Pakistan. Ninety-eight percent of the population is Muslim. Iran is the only country in the world where the majority of the population is Shiite. Only among the Kurds, Baluchis, Turkomans and Arabs living in the country does the Sunni Muslim belief predominate."
She paused again while her NCO put up a new map, one showing the symbols of military units. The brigade commander was busily writing notes on small three-by five cards. The XO, with a faint smile of approval, nodded for her to continue.
"The first impression that the current invasion by the Soviets is a bolt out of the blue is incorrect." She paused for a moment and watched the brigade commander noticeably straighten up with a quizzical look on his face.
"Are you trying to tell me, Lieutenant, that we knew about this?"
Without flinching, Matthews continued, "Apparently the Central Intelligence
Agency, the National Security Agency and the Defense Intelligence Agency each were collecting data on the modernization and buildup of Soviet forces in the area but passed it off as either routine modernization or preparation for the rotation or reinforcement of forces in Afghanistan. The
Soviets have maintained a normal level of activities in all other areas of the world, especially in Europe, where they have already begun their semiannual rotation of recruits. As a result of this normality, there was an insufficient increase in intelligence indicators to warrant an increase in the Watchcon level." Again Lieutenant Matthews paused for a moment to let this last bit of information sink in before proceeding.
"The current Soviet offensive appears to be following the same basic plan as its 1941 invasion of Iran, with a few new twists, these primarily being amphibious landings along the Caspian Sea here at Bandar-a Anzali and Astaneh and airborne assaults reported at Khvoy, Tabriz and Rasht. Major ground forces in the northeast include one combined-arms army moving along an axis from Jolia 23 to Tabriz through the Zagros Mountains and a second combined-arms army moving along the coastal plain of the Caspian Sea. A third army of unknown composition is in reserve south of Baku. In the northeast, a corps sized element is moving west along an axis from KizylArvat to Gorgan, with a second corps-sized element moving south from Ashkabad to Quchan. Several other divisions are assembling farther inside the Soviet Union, here at Nebit-Dag and Mary. In the east a single motorized rifle division has been identified moving along an axis west from Herat in Afghanistan to, probably, Mashhad. Current intelligence gathered from several sources, including monitoring of official Iranian news agencies, indicates that the Soviet invasion came as a complete surprise to the Iranians. Only token resistance is being met by the Soviets. With the majority of Iran's forces involved in active fighting against the Iraqis, and in view of the country's lack of mobile reserves, the Soviets will meet little in the way of organized resistance for at least the next five to seven days, maybe longer."
Lieutenant Matthews paused to allow the commander to study the map showing the activity she had just described. When he was comfortable with the information, he nodded for her to continue.
"A preliminary analysis brings out three major points. The first clearly indicates that Tehran is the offensive's initial objective.
Seizure of the northwest, the coast of the Caspian Sea and Tehran will place the majority of the population, agriculture and industry of Iran under Soviet control.
This would leave only two other worthwhile objectives: the oilfields in the southwest and control of the Strait of Hormuz in the south. The second point is that the USSR is using relatively small forces along established lines of communication. Although it does have a large number of forces in the Transcaucasus region, they are being held in place to serve either as a threat to Turkey or as a second echelon.
There is insufficient information at this time to confirm either theory. This could also mean that the USSR's objectives are limited to the seizure of Tehran or that it is being careful not to shove more forces into the country than can be supplied.
"The final point, and perhaps the most important to us, is the fact that the Soviets have taken no other actions anywhere else in the world to increase their state of readiness. An intelligence summary released to 10th Corps earlier this morning from the DIA concluded that it appears to be the
Soviets' intent to keep the conflict localized to Iran. In fact, Soviet ambassadors in all NATO countries had scheduled appointments with the heads of those countries within an hour of the invasion to present the Soviets' position and explanation."
At this point, the brigade commander interrupted. "It's going to take one hell of a line of BS to turn this stunt into a lily-white crusade to save humanity." For the first time there was laughter in the room.
Turning to Lieutenant Matthews, he asked, "Amanda, do you have anything else?"
For a moment, Lieutenant Matthews was in shock. This was the first time since she had come to the brigade that the brigade commander had called her by her first name. She simply replied, "No, sir."
"That was a good briefing, thank you."
As she went to take her seat, the XO gave her a nod of approval. She was part of the team.
Daradiz Pass, Iran 1700 Hours, 25 May (1330 Hours, 25 May, GMT)
The captain finished making the rounds of the positions occupied by his paratroopers. All was in order. Brought in by helicopter in the predawn darkness, the airborne company had had no problem overwhelming the Iranians who were supposed to man the positions now filled by his men. Four months of training, rehearsals and preparation for this single operation had paid off.
At the cost
of one man wounded and a sprained ankle sustained during the debarkation from the helicopters, the airborne company had taken out forty-five Iranians. There were, of course, no prisoners. The plan did not allow for the holding of prisoners.
Standing on the edge of a cliff, the captain looked down at the unending column of tanks, armored personnel carriers and trucks of the 28th Combined Arms Army passing below him. With the seizure of the Daradiz Pass, no defenses or major obstacles stood between the 28th CAA and Marand. The 28th would easily make its initial objective on schedule.
All was in order. Carefully, the captain limped back from the edge.
With nothing more to do for a while, he finally had time to find a nice comfortable spot where he could sit down and tend to his sprained ankle.
Chapter 2
It is well that war is so terrible or we should grow too fond of it.
— ROBERT E. LEE
Fort Bragg, North Carolina 1940 Hours, 26 May (0040 Hours, 27 May, GMT)
Company A of the 2nd Battalion, 517th Airborne Regiment, was used to waiting. It wasn't unusual to get rigged for a jump, move out onto the ready line and then wind up waiting for hours as an unexpected weather front or increase in winds caused a delay. The men were no strangers to the Green Ramp either. At times it seemed to them that every time some head of state in an obscure country sneezed, the 17th Airborne Division was put on alert.
And, of course, there were always the readiness tests, called at all hours of the day to gauge the response of the unit on strip alert. The 1983 invasion of Grenada had done much to add meaning to the endless drills, alerts and training exercises. But that had been a small affair by any standards and, to a unit in the U.S. Army, a long time ago. There were few men in the 2nd of the 517th who wore a division patch on both sleeves.