by David Nees
“That’s nice.” She could feel the warmth as the fire grew.
“When it gets larger, I’ll take off your socks and dry them out.”
“I should have a dry pair in my pack.”
“All the better.”
Jason got up and began to gather more wood. After his next armful, the fire was nicely burning. He sat down and pulled out a canteen. He handed the water to Catherine along with a pieced of dried venison. As she slowly chewed on the venison jerky, Jason got up and headed down to a creek to fill the camp pot with water. He put it on the fire to heat.
“You’re in for a treat,” he said with a smile on his face. “One last MRE.” He pulled the packet out of his pack. “Lasagna,” he announced.
“Are you sure?” Catherine asked.
“Yes. You need energy. I’m good with the jerky. After you eat you can have one more injection of morphine if you need it and then go to sleep. We’ll start in again later in the evening, but I want you to get a few hours of sleep.”
Catherine ate the meal with relish. An hour later, Jason offered her the morphine but she declined.
“The meal was good and the pain is down. I think I can sleep without it.”
She sighed again. Jason could see her body begin to relax as she drifted off to sleep. He sat tending the fire, watching his beautiful step-daughter. His mind filled with conflicting thoughts. He could talk to her like another soldier, but he also worried about her like a father. It grieved him that they had to live in a world where she had to kill and do battle. All they wanted was to be left alone to rebuild their lives. However, ruthless people who rose to power wouldn’t let them live in peace. Would it ever end? If they defeated this invading force, would Knoxville send more? Would other cities try to take them over?
He shook his head. The negative thoughts wouldn’t help them now. Catherine was still not safe. They had a long way to go before they could get help. Her strength and courage would be severely tested before it was all over.
Chapter 49
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L ater that night, Catherine awoke. The fire had gone down, Jason’s head hung down, his chin resting against his chest. He was asleep sitting up. She gently nudged him with her foot. His head snapped upright and looked around.
“It’s only me,” she said. “I think I can go on now. Can I have a drink of water?”
Jason handed her his canteen and started to work on the fire.
“No need for that. Let’s get going.”
The sky was overcast but the moon behind the layer of clouds added a faint glow to relieve the deeper dark of the night.
“You sure you’re ready to walk?”
“I’m not going to feel any better after a couple of hours, so we may as well cover some ground. I know I’m not getting relief until we catch up with the ambush teams or find the car…assuming we can use it.”
After putting on her shoes with dry socks, Jason helped her get to her feet. He could tell she was suppressing grunts of pain as she moved her body. She finally steadied on her feet as Jason buried the fire remains. He hoisted the packs and guns and they headed off through the woods.
The day came with no sunrise. The light gradually grew as the sun shone somewhere above the overcast sky. But there were more layers to the clouds now, heralding an end to the two-day rain. The wind was more from the north now, but still bringing rain with it.
“You doing all right?” He asked as they walked into the dawn.
“Better than last night. The food and rest really helped. I wasn’t sure I could make it, but now I think I can.”
“I’m proud of you. I just wish it had been me that had been hit.”
“Better me if it had to be one of us. You’re stronger and can carry the extra load. I’d have a hard time helping you along.”
Jason couldn’t argue.
The day had passed without any encounter with the ambushing force. McKenzie was mildly surprised at his good fortune. They hadn’t made many miles, but they hadn’t been attacked. It was steady, if slow, progress. That night the convoy parked in a semi-circle with the armored vehicles outside and the men sought shelter as best they could. The rain was still coming down. The bad weather was taking its toll on his troops. He could only hope those ambushing him were having as much difficulty coping.
The teams in the tank and APCs stayed in their vehicles and remained dry much to the annoyance of those fending for themselves out in the open. Many crawled under the trucks to seek shelter, some had tents, others rigged their tarps between the vehicles but many remained outside of these makeshift shelters and had to hunker down, wrapped inside their tarps to sit and sleep as best they could.
Kevin and Rodney, having moved their forces farther south, did not encounter the convoy that day. They took the time to tend to their wounded with the limited supplies they had. The remaining men took inventory of their ammunition; both Kevin and Rodney lectured the mortar and rocket teams about their role in the attack they were sure would come the next day.
The Hillsboro defenders weren’t managing the bad weather much better than the Knoxville forces. The city militia forces watched how Clayton’s men dealt with the situation and found some relief by mimicking them. They were careful to set up their tarps to keep the rain sheeting away from them and went about the tedious work of starting fires in the wet woods. Many of the clansmen helped the others get their fires going. Soon everyone had some level of shelter with a fire close by. It was the best they could do.
Morning brought the promise of the storm passing although the rain still came through on the north wind.
We’ll engage today, Kevin thought. Got to take out the artillery pieces and then we stand a chance.
Both Kevin and Rodney positioned their men well back from the road. Kevin anticipated scouting teams working ahead of the convoy. It would be the next adjustment the General would make. He would let them go by and when they had passed, he and Rodney would send their mortar and rocket teams closer to the highway to strike at the howitzers.
As before, they heard the convoy approaching. The men on both sides of the road waited, hidden in the brush, for the scouts to pass. Kevin and Rodney had positioned a few of Clayton’s men closer to get eyes on the teams as they moved ahead of the convoy. When the men had gone past, they sent the mortar and rocket teams closer to the highway. Some of the remaining rifle teams were left behind to intercept the scouting parties who would try to return after the shooting broke out.
Half way through the day, Jason heard the convoy. Leaving Catherine waiting further back in the woods, he headed towards the road and crept out to the where the slope dropped off. He could see the back end of the convoy. The number of vehicles was reduced, evidence of the damage that Kevin and Rodney had been able to do. The men and vehicles were moving slowly down the road, clearing as they went. He turned back to Catherine.
“We’ve caught up with the convoy,” he said when he got back to where she was waiting.
“What do we do now? How does that help us?” Her voice reflected her fatigue.
“It means we’re close to Kevin and Rodney. I’m betting they’re not far to the south, probably waiting in ambush. For now, it doesn’t change what we do. We have to stay in the woods. But if we can get ahead of the convoy, or if Kevin and Rodney can drive them back, then we can use the road.”
Catherine just nodded. They began to hike again. Jason turned all the possibilities over in his mind. If the Hillsboro forces attacked again, could he help? Having Catherine with him meant that he couldn’t be aggressive. They couldn’t move fast with her injury. He would just keep closer to the highway to make sure they kept up or moved ahead of the convoy. Somewhere up ahead, in the forest, were the Hillsboro troops.
Kevin chanced a small radio transmission to see if Rodney’s team was in position. Then they waited until the artillery pieces near the end of the convoy came into view. On Kevin’s command the mortars and rockets opened up. T
he first rounds were off the mark. The mortar gunners frantically adjusted their elevation controls. Some of the crews had to swing the mortar to the left or right to reset the lateral aim. Repeated shots were off the mark. The crews kept adjusting, finally bracketing and closing in on their target.
The initial rocket rounds were off target as well. The howitzers were at least three hundred yards away so the rockets were at the far end of their range with most falling short. Kevin realized he would have to rely on the mortar crews to do the damage.
After the initial rounds, the armored vehicles pulled back to cover the two remaining trucks. The tank opened up on the west ridge with two rounds shutting down much of the mortar fire. The turret swung towards Kevin’s team and the men ducked for cover. He could hear the grenade launchers on the APCs going into action sending their projectiles into the trees.
Now the artillery crews unhooked the big guns from the Humvees and swung the carriages around, one to the east, one to the west. The barrels were cranked down. In a moment they would have the guns ready to fire.
The mortar rounds were exploding closer to the carriages. Kevin could see one of the men falling, having been hit by frag from a round. Then the howitzer fired and jerked back on the carriage which hadn’t been properly staked to the ground. The round flew overhead with a scream and Kevin heard it explode well behind them. The team frantically worked to reposition the gun and the barrel was cranked down for a second shot.
Kevin’s problem was the front of the howitzer was fitted with armor which, though minimal, protected the crew from the rounds his mortars were delivering. But the mortar bombs were now exploding close enough to force the crews to take cover. He had to be doing some damage to the tires and wheels, which was his primary intent.
Someone was directing the crews to get back in place. Kevin’s teams wouldn’t be able to withstand more rounds from the gun when they zeroed in on his mortars. He’d have to retreat or risk getting the men wiped out. As the artillery crew got back on the gun, the loader started to carry a shell to the breech. Suddenly he fell backwards to the ground, dropping the large projectile. The other crew stood still for a moment wondering what had happened, when the gunner was hit and his body flung against the gun.
Kevin watched through his field glasses as the same thing happened to the other howitzer crew. A gunner on the rear APC suddenly was flung forward, his body falling against the grenade launcher he had been using.
The Knoxville militia, after taking cover, were shooting into the woods trying to hit the mortar teams while Kevin and Rodney’s few rifle men returned their fire. Some of the militia now turned and directed their rifle fire to the west ridge behind the convoy. Kevin saw the muzzle flash coming from that area. Jason!
When the shooting started, Jason sat Catherine down well back from the ridgeline. He pulled a tarp over her and set out towards the highway. He got to the edge of the wooded slope and found a spot to sight through the trees. It wasn’t an open ridgetop, which restricted him to a smaller field of vision, but his shots would be better concealed.
He saw the howitzers turn to go into action. Got to stop those guns. They would decimate the mortar teams. After the first howitzer fired high, Jason settled his sights on the loader. The man picked up a round and as he turned, Jason shot. The shot hit him in the upper chest, flinging him backwards to the ground. His bulletproof vest was no match for the .50 caliber. Jason’s next shot hit the gunner, tearing through his torso. The other two men dove for cover.
Jason turned to the other howitzer team and his first shot took out the gunner. The loader dropped his round and ran for cover. Next Jason took aim at the rear-most APC. The man operating the grenade launcher had found the range and his grenades would make the area around the mortar teams a death zone. Jason’s shot hit him in the middle of his back and exploded his chest inside the vest.
Someone must have spotted his shots because rifle fire started coming his way. Jason could hear the round zinging through the trees. Then a .50 caliber machine gun started up. Jason sat back against a large oak, waiting out the barrage. There was a short lull and he sprinted across the edge of the slope to a new position. Quickly he took aim at the howitzer teams as they began to reform. He took out one of the men and sent the two others diving for cover. Before he could zero in on the other team, the gun had turned towards him. The big gun fired and the round hit the slope below and to his right. Jason was thrown down by the force of the explosion. Frag flew over him along with shards of wood from the splintered trees.
The tank’s 105mm gun now opened up on his position. The blasts were nearly as devastating as the howitzers. Jason retreated back through the woods, diving to the ground when he heard any incoming rounds.
The 105mm gun on the tank had been in action during this time, alternating between the hills to the east and west. While not as devastating as the more powerful howitzer round, it had a strong suppressing effect on the attack. Half of Kevin’s mortar teams were now out of action, but they had inflicted significant damage to the howitzer and its carriage.
The howitzer crews tried repeatedly to get their guns into action. General McKenzie knew that one or two rounds from them would shut down the attack. The tank was doing a good amount of damage. The shooting from the rear was keeping his artillery pieces from getting into action. In spite of that he managed to get some mortars to lob their bombs into the woods at the attacking mortar teams. His grenade launchers from the APCs seemed to be doing some damage in spite of two gunners getting killed.
Suddenly the mortar fire from the hillsides stopped. After another dozen rounds from his own mortar teams McKenzie halted fire. Everything was still. The men waited. They heard sporadic rifle fire farther back in the woods and then all was silent.
Kevin pulled his men back. Their position was getting too hot. He was in danger of losing all his mortar teams. The rocket teams had been ineffective and he had pulled them back. The battle area went quiet. Kevin knew that Rodney had also begun to pull back his team.
Kevin’s rear guard was still firing a few shots, finishing off the scout team that had tried to return to the convoy. He marched his men south to get back in front of the convoy. Doubt filled his mind. Did they do enough damage to the howitzers to cripple them and keep them from getting in range of the town? After regrouping he would have to send out a spy to see if they had done enough. It was a costly engagement. He was down to a dozen men. They moved away from the convoy as the rain continued to fall.
The general worked to restore order after the chaos of the attack. The armored machines straightened up their perimeter defensive positions. The wounded were looked after. His officers assembled two teams of men to take up defensive positions in the hills on each side of the highway.
“They seemed to be focused on the howitzers,” his lieutenant said.
The general grunted as he walked over to the guns. They both had their outer wheels and tires torn up. The armor shielding had been hit repeatedly and was scarred and bent. The carriage frame on one of the guns was bent. It wouldn’t tow straight, if it could move at all with the wheel damaged and one tire ripped open.
As his men worked to assess the damage, McKenzie sat down by himself to ponder his situation. He was not sure his howitzers could make the rest of the journey to get in range of Hillsboro. If they could he was ready to start a long-distance bombardment and discuss surrender terms afterwards. He was not in the mood for diplomacy.
Chapter 50
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W hen the convoy had dealt with their wounded and dead, the general tried to move. One of the howitzers was pulled along in a crab-like fashion, the other dragged its wounded wheel, scraping along the pavement, screeching in protest. The guns could only be moved at a walking pace. They struggled along for a half hour, going less than a mile when the damaged wheel on one of the howitzers fell off and the stub axle dug into the road. It started to turn over as the Humvee tried to keep pulling.
McKenzie stopped the convoy. He had one APC drive ahead to pick a spot to stop for the night. The men were tired, wet and discouraged from the last encounter. The crippled artillery pieces did nothing to raise their morale. He’d rest the men, decided what could be done with the howitzers and make his move tomorrow. He still had the tank. It could be refueled here and easily make the round trip to Hillsboro and back. With the tank and his APCs, he could force the town to give in to his demands. If he had to leave the big guns behind all was not lost.
Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to bring them. They were susceptible to the guerilla attacks they had experienced. The tank, his men, and the APCs could get the job done. Later, if he could get them back to Knoxville, he could use them as defensive weapons.
Ten miles down the road Kevin and Rodney stopped. Rodney brought his remaining men over to Kevin’s group east of the highway. Their combined force totaled twenty-four men in fighting condition, facing more than a hundred.
“We don’t have enough men to attack again,” Rodney said. They were huddled under a tarp with a fire going.
“I think we managed to cripple the howitzers, so we accomplished what we set out to do,” Kevin said.
“They still have the M60 and the APCs. They can still threaten the town.”
“Time to use the C-4.”
Rodney got up and went to find Billy. When Billy joined them, Rodney pulled the demolition block out of a pack along with a detonator and a spool of stranded duplex electric wire.
“Billy, you sure you want to do this?” Kevin asked.
Billy nodded. “Yep. Rodney told me what that tank can do. We can’t let it get to town.”