by Andy Farman
The Royal Artillery rep for 3 (UK) Mechanised Brigade allocated three MLRS, 227mm basic tactical rockets for the target, which arrived just as the Field Police BTR-80, pulled away. Each thirteen foot long rocket dispensed 644 submunitions from its warhead section, seeding the entire area with fragmentation and shaped-charge munitions. Only 81mm x 38mm in size, the dual purpose submunition performs two tasks on detonation, firstly the high explosive packed around the inverted copper cone at the business end detonates, transforming the copper cone into a white hot slug moving at supersonic speed in the direction of the explosive blast. On contact with the armour of the target it burns its way down into the armour plate, melting it as it goes. On the inside of the target a blister forms, red-hot metal contained by a thin skin of rapidly heating steel. The blister is burst by the white hot copper slug it enters the targets interior and the molten steel of the blister scatters throughout the interior, igniting anything flammable, including body fats. Whilst this process is under way, the outer casing of the submunition acts like an anti-personnel grenade’s casing, fragmenting into over seven hundred shards of steel that scythe out to 4m.
Two of these submunitions struck the roof of the armoured personnel carrier on its way to the front to arrest the lead regiments’ commander. The armour plating on the top of the BTR was less than an inch thick, less than a quarter of the thickness that the submunition was capable of penetrating and in less than half a second after impact, the BTR disintegrated.
Following the almost simultaneous detonation of one thousand nine hundred and thirty two submunitions, in an area just the size of three football fields, a strange eerie silence fell upon that area of the forest, broken only by the crackle of flames.
A total of three rounds had been needed to restore the hull-down revetments previous arcs of fire before Major Darcy’s Challenger had been able to enter the fighting position. The tanks secure messaging terminal, Ptarmigan, had gone down during the enemy barrage but they had managed to reboot the system and Darcy could see how his tank squadron fared. Apart from the loss of a troop commanders tank they were all there but two had damaged fire control computers, which needed replacing. One tank had thrown a track enroute to its firing position but the rest of its troop would cover its arcs of responsibility until it made it up to them.
They could only depress their main guns by 10 degrees so they had to start killing enemy vehicles at maximum range for the sabots at 3500m.
The Czech vehicles showed up clearly in the gun sights of the British tanks on the high ground, the heat generated by the tanks, the APCs and air-defence vehicles gave off signatures that identified them by type. Darcy was not entirely sure what the enemy formation was doing, or intended at that moment as they were moving across his front from left to right. They had apparently hit a minefield but he had missed what had gone on before, due to his own tanks slow, cautious move to the firing positions. His laser rangefinder showed the first two enemy company’s, now moving in parallel columns, were both with range and he was preparing to engage them when the Guards CO called him up personally. The CO explained that although his Milan teams and infantry were moving up to occupy positions on the top and forward slopes, his men had taken a beating in the artillery bombardment and he was even more reliant on the tanks main guns. Darcy had not seen a living soul in the move from the rear, let alone anything that resembled a trench. Okay he thought, let’s get to work and called up his troop commanders, instructing them to prioritise antennae tanks and Anti-Aircraft Artillery vehicles, before long the NATO fighter-bombers and choppers would be over the battlefield, they were not to commence firing until his command. His eyes were fixed to the sight and he used the manual commanders over-ride to search for the first target, his job was to provide command and control for the squadron, not have fun but this first kill was going to be his.
“Target…..…AA vehicle…Gaskin,” a SA-9 missile system mounted on a four-wheel BTR chassis with radar mast and reloads in racks down the vehicles sides. He depressed the rangefinder button with his thumb, glanced at the figures displayed before continuing, “Range, three thousand one hundred, centre of second column…HE.” They already had a HESH round in the breech and the loader immediately called out.
“Loaded!” as he pulled across the safety gate. Standing behind the breach of the 120mm gun as it fired would cause massive crush injuries as the gun recoiled. After loading the required round the loader had to step to the side and close the low gate, if the gate wasn’t closed, the weapon would not fire.
“Firing!” Darcy stated, and the Challenger rocked back as the 120mm gun sent the round streaking eastwards.
The last time Darcy had fired a weapon in anger had been during the Gulf War and he smiled in satisfaction as the Czech AA vehicle exploded violently, its own anti-aircraft missile warheads and solid fuel in the motors made a spectacular firework display. He released the override and instructed the gunner to carry on, and got on with his own job of controlling the fight.
When the lead division’s headquarters went off the air the Corps headquarters dispatched a flight of helicopters to investigate. With a key link in the chain removed the formation that was already engaged had no access to artillery fire support or close air support. The plan had been to assault and overrun the NATO forces on the promontory before driving between the flanking units, just to its rear, and then splitting to drive north and south, rolling them up and creating a gap for the main manoeuvre unit. That unit was a tank division equipped with the best and the latest equipment available to them. Plan B was to drive either side with two more divisions in order to achieve the desired breakthrough.
The division’s towed artillery assets had taken 77% losses in just five minutes of bombardment by NATO, the SP, self-propelled guns crews had the protection of armour, they lost 46%. The towed artillery had more surviving equipment than they had crews, airburst, ground burst AP munitions and bodies don’t mix well.
The Staff officer who arrived at the remains of the divisional CP spent little time there, there was no point. 100% casualties had been inflicted on men and equipment. It took only another ten minutes touring the divisions area by helicopter for him to report that the division was combat ineffective owing to the destruction of the command and artillery support elements. After making his report he contacted the four regimental commanders, only one was in contact and the two motor rifle regiments on its flank and the tank regiment in reserve were still in cover, awaiting orders. He called up the lead regiment again for a full sitrep and Colonel Eskiva decided he had no choice but to inform him of his change of axis and the reason. The Staff officer accepted Eskiva’s decision without question, if he assumed the late div commander had ok’d it he made no comment. On his next call to the corps HQ he recommended that the next division, five miles back take over command and control of the present attacks tank and motor rifle regiments. It would need to move up rapidly, giving priority of road movement to its artillery units whilst the air force pull out all the stops in close air support to make up for the currently absent artillery support.
The Staff officer then directed the pilots to take them west, toward the battlefield so that he could observe the attack first hand. The corps commander accepted his subordinate’s recommendations, the man was a talented soldier, and destined for higher things and his commander did not question his judgement.
Colonel Eskiva’s regiment was taking casualties from the high ground, initially from tank guns but now anti-tank missiles were starting to be used against him also as his company columns finished forming behind the plough tanks.
Most of his tanks were T-72s and T-90s, cheap export versions of the superior T-80. Whereas the Russians had stolen the self-stabilising gun and Chobham armour from the British, by way of taking apart a Shah tank and copying it, after the overthrow of the Shah of Iran, it was the best tank in the inventory. The T-90 was an under-powered MBT, lacking the armour and reliable main tank gun of the T-80, but the gun was self-stabilising.
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p; Dismounting some of his Sagger, ATGW, anti-tank, guided weapons crews and 120mm mortars, he used them and a company of T-90s to concentrate on fire suppression. The tanks would stay on the move, thereby providing harder targets for the British whilst the Mortar and Sagger crews fired from cover.
He expected the enemy air force to appear at any time and he withdrew half of his AA vehicles, those with IR targeting capabilities back to the tree line, where they could fire from cover. His ace in the hole was six ZSU-2S62S6 Tungushkas, if NATO feared the ZSU-23-4 and 57-2, then they would loathe these. The vehicle’s had passive radar guidance and IR tracking for its twin 30mm cannons and 8 SA-10 anti-aircraft missiles.
After 300m without a single mine going off, the colonel was considering on taking a gamble when artillery started to burst around the head of the regiment, seeking to knock out the tanks with the mine ploughs. That decided it for him, he ordered his companies to bypass the plough tanks and proceed straight ahead for another 1000m before wheeling right and making for their original intended crossing point on the river where they would revert to the plan as first briefed. He looked up at the sky for NATO aircraft before ducking swiftly into the turret as one of his escorting tanks blew up after being hit by a sabot round fire from the hill. He looked briefly at the map with its carefully marked minefields and tossed it out of the open hatch, he knew what NATO had done and he now had to close with them, get too close for them to be able to use their artillery and air power.
Coming in from the northeast were five Czech Air Force, Su-17M4 Fitters that had survived an ambush by NATO fighters. The elderly but still effective aircraft were more suited to bombing than dog fighting, and at the moment they were hungry for payback for their seven comrades, swatted from the sky by NATO. The aircraft hugged the ground, trusting in their terrain following radar as they wove their way along undulating valleys towards the battle. Overhead, the clouds were moving in also, thick and threatening with the promise of heavy rain. By the time the Sukhois reached the scene of the conflict, they would have masked the moon for the rest of the night.
When the positions were first being prepared, Lt Col Hupperd-Lowe had ordered three sets of landlines laid between the battalion CP and his companies CPs. It had seriously pissed off his signals platoon who had the time consuming and backbreaking task of line laying between the locations, not once but three times. The CO was well aware that the enemy would be listening for radio transmissions, for their intelligence content, frequencies and to DF, radio direction find the source of the transmissions. He needed to communicate at all time and the field telephone was the most secure method.
He had lost contact with 1 Company, on the right after two hours’ of solid bombardment by the massed artillery across the way. There were lines bypassing each company CP, creating a network with built in redundancy, should a CP be taken out. He had ordered a signaller to contact them via 2 Company but they had no joy there either.
The silencing of the enemy guns had given him the first chance in four hours’ to see what had happened to his beloved battalion and he judged it safe to break radio silence, 1 Company CP was alive, well and still in business.
The snipers report had instigated the local NBC testing and once the result was arrived at he left the battalion in the hands of the 2 i/c and took an infantry section from the defence platoon with him as he went forward.
Both rifle companies had already moved men up, to the forward slopes where they could put direct fire down on anyone wishing to force a river crossing. The CO went there first, to judge the morale and resolve of the Guardsmen and he was in for a rude shock, plenty still had fight in them but there were faces he knew well, that were missing. He counted himself fortunate that only seven were too shocked to fight, he dealt with them firmly but kindly, he had been well to the rear, away from the most intense shelling, he was not going to judge a man for failing what he himself had not yet endured.
The Tanks and artillery were already striking at the Czech regiment across the river when he made his way to 2 Company’s CP, his stop was brief because the company commander had his own fight coming up, so after encouraging words he left them to it.
1 Company had its signallers out looking for the breaks in the landlines and their OC wanted them fixed PDQ before the enemy artillery started again. Guardsman Morgan was not the world’s greatest soldier, granted that he could talk a good fight, looked good in his ‘glory order’, bearskin, scarlet tunic, tweeds, etc. and always looked busy when he was being watched, but he became a signaller to avoid getting shot at as frequently as he would do in a rifle company.
The method for finding breaks is to carry a field telephone and follow the wire, stopping every 25m to call in until either no one answers or the station at the end of the line does. Once that happens you back track 12m and try again, moving back and forth, shorter and shorter distances until the break is found. It’s a tedious process at the best of times, but tonight atop the hill that now looked like a moonscape, it was hard going and bloody difficult. The four regimental signallers split up, dividing the workload in order to get it done as fast as possible, feeling their way along the wires in the dark.
Morgan could hear aircraft over the crack of tank guns, they were NATO aircraft but he didn’t care, he just wanted to get back below ground into the safety of the CP bunker. His heart was beating and his hands shook as he traced the wire he was following, under, over and around broken, splintered trees and cratered earth.
Without the benefit of night viewing aids of the quality their enemies had, Colonel Eskiva could see that his units’ accuracy was suffering when the moon disappeared, so he ordered his dismounted mortarmen to put up para-illumination rounds. NATO could already see them so he wasn’t giving much away by employing a double-edge tool.
As the enemy assault grew closer it became more difficult for Major Darcy’s tank to engage them, the barrel was depressed to its maximum and undergrowth on the slope was further hindering their efforts. The enemy had changed direction yet again and where now heading for the river at an oblique angle, heading straight for them. He ordered his driver to reverse out of the position and proceed to another over to the left. It meant exposing themselves, briefly skylined for about 40m but the clouds had blocked out the moon and the only light was across the river, provided by burning enemy tracks. He had, however, forgotten to take into consideration that the route was littered with obstacles and would have to be negotiated slowly.
Back across the river, in the hide beneath the railway, Big Stef and Freddie were getting frustrated too. Until the clouds had arrived Stef had fired almost continuously, as the litter of empty cases on the floor of the hide attested. He worked the bolt back and forth, sighted once more and fired yet again, with something like a 75% kill rate. Most of the tank commanders were out of sight, having buttoned up the tanks and others raised their heads only rarely, never more than shoulder high above the hatch either. The Challengers and Milan crews were making the Czech’s for every yard they approached and the snipers targets were now mainly the survivors of knocked out tanks and APCs. They ignored the obviously injured crewmen and infantry, taking out the healthy ones who would be put straight back into the fray in replacement vehicles once this battle was done. There were exceptions however, and twice Freddie had looked across at Big Stef as he had ignored the targets he’d identified, to shoot a different one entirely. Freddie made no comment about the wasted ammunition though, because he too would probably want someone, friend or foes to end his suffering if he emerged from a wrecked vehicle as a human torch. They had reported the withdrawal of AA vehicles back into the trees, but could not pinpoint the present positions, so artillery was landing in the trees in a ‘best guess’ sort of fashion. The loss of the moonlight would require switching the present sight with the nightscope, which was less accurate. Reluctant to do so unless as a last resort, Stef peered through the sight, seeking an opportunity whilst Freddie tried to identify a target with his MIRAS sight that his oppo
could see to shoot at.
As the para-illum rounds bursts overhead the hilltop and plain were bathed in a combined total of two million candle power of light, from gently undulating flares that floated earthwards beneath small parachutes.
Colonel Eskiva saw the Challenger II on the skyline and shouted the target indication into the interphone. As the turret turned and barrel raised, he saw a Sagger crew hunched down in a ditch, squinting against the glare for a target but had not apparently seen the British tank. Leaning across the turret's coaming, he shouted at the top of his voice to them, pointing as he did so and two weapons fired at exactly the same instant, one was 7.62 calibre, the other was 125mm.
One the hillside Major Darcy was on the Guards battalion CP net giving a sitrep and didn’t hear gunners exclamation of
“Oh fuck…we’re for it now!” as he saw night turn to day outside.
In Colonel Eskiva’s T-90, the 1A45T, automatic fire-control system ordered the carousel automatic loader to retract and the gunner took over. The smoothbore gun recoiled as it sent a discarding sabot round at the exposed British tank that was picking its way around splintered tree trunks.
Fluids do not take kindly to compression if they are confined inside a sealed vessel, such as a skull. The sonic shock wave that preceded the bullet into Eskiva’s open mouth had already folded back the colonels tongue, forcing it down his throat with such force it tore off at the root. As the bullet itself entered the skull through the top of the colonels mouth, the accompanying shockwave forced the fluids and soft tissue away, displacing it as a boulder would if dropped into a pond. There was nowhere for the displaced matter to go and the fluid refused to be compressed, so something had to give. The colonels skull came apart and his eyeballs burst outwards from their sockets. It all happened in less than a thousandth of a second and the colonel did not even know he was dead.