But nothing happened. It finally occurred to him that he was not heavy enough to set off the mine. Even so, when he mustered the courage to remove his foot, he did so with the greatest of care. Sweat rolled down his face as he tried to regain composure before moving on. There were too many ways to get killed out here. Kelp wanted his tank back. This infantry shit was for the birds.
When he thought that they were close enough to the infantry positions, Kelp called out to let them know they were coming back. Polgar, unfamiliar with Kelp's voice, ordered them to advance and be recognized. When they were in the open, Polgar gave them the challenge.
Only after Kelp gave the proper password were the two tank killers allowed back into the fold.
Once the tanks were clear of the village, Bannon ordered 31 to move up to the right of 55.
As they were starting to swing south to return to their positions, they ran into the Russian infantry that had just broken contact with Polgar. Apparently, the Russians had not heard of the run through the village by the American tanks and thought 55 and 31 were Russian. They simply stood aside to let them pass. When the tanks cut loose with machine guns, the last semblance of order evaporated and the Russians scattered to the four winds. Only the jamming of 55's last operational machine gun broke off the engagement. The battle for Hill 214 was over, for now. Checkmate.
As 55 and 31 moved south along the tree line in silence, Bannon radioed Uleski and Polgar.
He ordered them to pull their people back to the trail junction and form a coil. Polgar and his men would cover the north, Uleski and his element would cover the east and south and 55
and 31 would cover the west. When everyone was in, they were to meet at the trail junction.
Bannon was the last to arrive. Uleski, Polgar, Jefferson, and Hebrock greeted Garger and him with nothing more than a nod. With not so
much as a word of greeting, he simply asked, "OK, what do we have?" Uleski had suffered only one wounded, a PC driver who had been hit in the shoulder during their fire fight and had lost a lot of blood but was in stable condition. Both the PCs and the 2nd Platoon tanks had ample ammo on hand. Polgar's dismounted element had suffered two killed, including the Dragon gunner, and four wounded, two of them seriously. Although his people had run low on ammunition while on the firing line, now that they were with the PCs, the men were replenishing their ammo pouches from ammunition stored on the PCs. The only casualty between 55 and 31 had been 31's loader. He had been hit in the face by a bullet during the run through the village. Though he was in a lot of pain, he would survive. For the price of
two dead and six wounded, Team Yankee had held.
But the Team had reached the end of its rope. Even as they stood there, Bannon could tell that the stress and strain of this last fight had used up
every man's final reserve of energy. They had done their best and done well. But there was no more to give. Besides the exhaustion, the tanks were down to a grand total of thirty-one main gun rounds and four thousand rounds for the COAX and loader's machine gun. Even if the men could hold
up
under another attack, which was impossible, the ammunition couldn't. Bannon informed the Team's leadership that at 0330 they would leave Hill
214 and move south in order to reenter friendly lines. There was no need to
explain. There were no protests or speeches. Everyone understood the situation and knew there was nothing more to be gained here. Now the Team's mission was to save what was left for another day.
To prepare for the move, the wounded were loaded onto the PCs, three in each. Folk, who could drive a PC, took the place of the wounded PC driver. Kelp took the place of the wounded loader on 31. Uleski would command one of the PCs and half of the infantry while Polgar took the other PC and the other half of the infantry. The tank crews redistributed the ammunition between the tanks. When all was
ready, the Team settled in to wait until 0330 and move out. Deep inside, Bannon wanted to believe that at the last minute the battalion would come forward and link up. He was going to give them another hour and a half. If they didn't get here by then, he was going to save as much of Team Yankee as he could.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
R and R.
The damned fly kept bothering him. It wasn't the buzzing so much. Bannon could block that out. It was the fact that the bastard kept landing on the cut on the side of his face and irritating it. He'd no sooner shoo it away with a halfhearted wave of his hand than it would come back and land. How could he get any sleep with that damned fly bothering him. Sleep.
"SLEEP! MY GOD, I'VE FALLEN ASLEEP!" That thought stunned Bannon. His eyes popped open and were greeted by the morning sun. Almost instinctively, his arm shot up to check the time on his watch. 0548. The Team had missed its move-out time by over two hours! Now it was full daylight. Chances of slipping away under the cover of darkness were gone.
Bannon looked over into the loader's hatch. Newman was sitting upright on his seat sound asleep. A scan of the tight circle of tank and PCs failed to reveal any sign of movement. Instead of being alert and watching their sectors, track commanders were slumped across their machine guns asleep. Infantrymen lay curled up on the ground asleep where they had fallen. Even the wounded were quiet. The calamity was complete. Team Yankee had collectively gone to sleep.
Bannon jumped down to awaken the crew of 55. The gunner was lying up against the main gun. "Sergeant GWENT! Sergeant GWENT! WAKE UP!" Gwent sat up, shook his head, then jumped when he realized he had fallen asleep.
"Oh shit, sir. I fell asleep. Goddamn, I'm sorry." "Well, don't feel like the Lone Ranger.
Everyone is asleep. " Gwent suddenly realized what Bannon was telling him, and that it was light outside. His eyes grew big. "You mean we didn't pull off that hill yet? We're still behind enemy lines?"
"Target. Now get the rest of the crew up while I wake the Team up. AND DON'T CRANK
THE TANK."
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