Defense of Hill 781 Read online

  Night fell as suddenly as morning had dawned. The stars came out and filled the desert sky. Mountain peaks faded in the distance, and the prominences Always had studiously memorized before dark now became confused in the uncertain, shadowed outlines against the black sky. The radio stayed silent. The plan was to move without any broadcasting, the better to delude the enemy, who surely must be scanning the frequency spectrum to pick up any chatter. Although the radios were secure, it was always safer to minimize traffic. Even if conversations could not be monitored, the mere breaking of the radio waves could tip off an experienced listener that something was about to happen. With the outside sounds muffled by his radio helmet (called a CVC), Always sat in the commander’s hatch in relative solitude. Two feet to his left sat his gunner, eyes affixed to the thermal sight, peering out into the darkness. Several feet away, separated from the vehicle commander and his gunner by several tons of steel, sat the driver looking through a light intensification scope. Gunner and driver were both silent, allowing the battalion commander the quiet of his thoughts. The three of them could talk to each other over the intercom system, but for the moment Always preferred to reflect on the mission ahead. The peacefulness of the moment relaxed him, perhaps for the first time that day. Then Bravo Company moved out.

  “Let’s go.” Always ordered his driver, Private First Class Spivey, to move.

  The road march was uneventful. Occasionally there was a halt in the column as some congestion up front out of sight created a delay, but soon enough it was sorted out and the units resumed their movement. Always realized that he had little control over what was taking place. In reality he was just along for the ride. With no radio communication, with visibility reduced to a few meters (the colonel was not using any night vision devices, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness and keep abreast of the movement by reading the terrain features he passed by), and with no contact with any of his soldiers save the two with him in his vehicle, Always could only assume from his own proximate location and the lack of calls on the airwaves that things were going more or less according to plan. As they passed an occasional scout checkpoint he congratulated himself on his forethought in placing them to keep everyone on track. Yet, not being sure of the condition of the rest of the task force caused a certain uneasiness in the commander. After all, they had traveled several dozen kilometers, and even at the outset the column, with all of its planned intervals between units and vehicles within the units, had been stretched out over more than a few kilometers.

  Shortly before midnight Bravo Company arrived in its assembly area. The quartering party came out to meet it, each platoon representative picking out his platoon in the dark and leading it into predesignated positions. Movements were silent and efficient. Captain Baker had a crack company. Immediately it set in a hasty defense, sighting vehicle guns, disembarking infantrymen who began to dig foxhole positions out in front of the Bradleys, laying wire back to the company command post, and sending out a patrol to secure the outlying area from enemy probes. It occurred to the colonel that by organizing the companies as pure infantry or pure armor he had severely handicapped his tankers. They could not spare anyone from their limited four-men tank crews to flesh out their defenses. They would have to rely on whatever work the quartering parties had done to secure their positions. Patrols would be out of the question. He made a mental note not to repeat this mistake.

  Always remembered what disdain he had held for mounted soldiers, whom he saw as essentially sheltered from the strain of having to march by foot and carry everything on their backs. These men had been working nonstop ever since he had arrived on the scene two days ago. Before dusk they had crawled into the back of their tightly packed vehicles, simmering in the late afternoon sun, then further heated by the crush of elbow-to-elbow bodies and running engines. They had been jostled over a four-hour road march and were now setting in an arduous defense, and facing an operation that would have them on their way by 0300 in order to get into position for the attack by dawn shortly after 0400.

  Neither did the vehicle crews get any rest. They refueled their vehicles, checked maintenance, and manned their sights. There was no guarantee that the enemy was not lying in wait for them even within the assembly area.

  Always realized again that he had blundered by positioning the scouts along the route without stressing that they clear the assembly area first. It was only sheer luck that the quartering parties had not run into a buzz saw of enemy. There were plenty of places for an ambushing force to hide. They might be there even now. Always wished he had kept the artillery officer with him. He wanted to develop a fire support plan, not just for the attack, but for defense of the assembly area as well. His units were vulnerable, and the thought of it accentuated the chill in the night air.

  Concern overwhelmed him as he considered his lack of forethought. Here he was alone in the dark, aware of the status of only one of his companies, out of contact with his tactical operations center and under a self-imposed radio silence. In a few hours dawn would come. Would everybody be ready to kick off on time? What intelligence did they have of the enemy? Had Brigade passed them anything of use? He knew he was missing something there, he just didn’t know what. Nor did he feel like calling on the Brigade frequency; he might reveal his own ignorance.

  What if enemy air appeared at first light? He had not thought to designate priorities to his air defense platoon. He didn’t even know where they were. Had they broken down to cover the various units? Were they covering the line of departure? What early warning system could he depend on?

  My God, Always thought to himself, there must be a million things I forgot to cover. He felt miserable.

  At that moment he sensed a dark figure climbing up on the deck of his Bradley.

  “Excuse me, sir.” It was Captain Johnson, his assistant operations officer. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you, sir. I knew you were in Bravo Company’s area, but I had to take my time to find you without compromising security. I have the status report for you.”

  Always tried to contain his relief, receiving the report as if he had expected it all along. The news was reassuring. Almost all the vehicles had made it in to their proper locations, and those that had not had been policed up by Major Walters bringing up the rear. He would have them rejoined with their units shortly. The air defense platoon was intact, confused as to what their mission was, but at least all accounted for and awaiting orders. Always told the captain to put two gun systems with each of the attacking companies. The teams of shoulder-fired antiaircraft missiles had already been attached to the combat companies and had been following the respective commanders in their jeeps.

  “Have we gotten any intelligence about Objective BLUE?”

  “No, sir.” There was still a hole a mile wide there.

  “OK, that’s not great news, but we’ll keep the attack on schedule, relying on our dismounted infantry to send us back reports as they make their way forward. Have the radio net opened up at 0330 with a radio check. We’ll maintain radio silence until then, short of any emergencies. Tell Major Rogers to move up with Alpha Company and keep me advised on the progress they make on that flank.”

  “All right, sir. I’ll pass all of that on.”

  “Thanks. Oh by the way, Captain Johnson, good job finding me in the dark. You’ve been a big help.” Even though Always was embarrassed at his lack of forethought, he was a big enough commander to give credit where it was due.

  As Johnson slipped away, Always looked at his watch. It was 0245. Bravo Company’s infantrymen were moving off in the dark. Always was amazed at how few they numbered, three platoons of twenty men each.

  In his perch in the Bradley, Always shut his eyes to doze. There was no point in fretting any more. The die was cast, and in a short while there would be enough new worries with which to preoccupy himself. Better to rest while he could.

  He awoke to Sergeant Kelso, his gunner, gently nudging his elbow. “Sir, you’re being called on the
radio.”

  With a thick tongue he answered to his call sign, then waited while all the parties came up on the net call. It took longer than he expected. There were a lot of subscribers on the net, more than he had imagined, and some of them had to be called several times before they answered. The air force liaison officer never did answer, nor did the two dismounted companies moving forward at this time. Their portable radios were operating in the clear and could not hear the encoded call. This created a dilemma. Having a mixture of secure and unsecure parties on the net had the effect of talking on two nets on one frequency. The resolution was to operate totally in the clear, with the ensuing risks to security. Always decided that he would preserve the secure net a little while longer. He hoped the dismounted infantrymen would have the sense to call in should they discover something critical or get involved in a heavy action. Captain Baker had gone forward with his infantry, while Captain Archer had remained with his Bradleys, letting the senior platoon leader take charge of the dismounted formation. Always wasn’t sure which one was right. At the moment, however, one of his commanders was off the net. That and the missing air force officer worried him.

  The scouts were dutifully in position. They reported they could see little from where they were on the line of departure, but that they had passed forward both dismounted companies in the last thirty minutes. So far there had been no incidents. Always confirmed the plan. By the time the conversation was completed it was 0350 and there was an almost imperceptible lightening of the horizon in the east. It was time to move. In fact, it was clear that they could not now hit the line of departure on time. Too many precious moments had been spent in establishing the radio net.

  Even as they began to move forward—B and C along Axis RED, D along Axis WHITE—the task force commander began to lose control. Precisely at 0400 the preplanned smoke began to fall across the front, but the wind had now shifted to a northeasterly direction and blew it back over the moving vehicles, making their journey difficult. Although they were only twenty meters away, Always could not see the nearest vehicles of Bravo Company, forcing him to proceed by dead reckoning in what he thought was the general direction of the attack.

  At 0410 he heard Major Rogers call in the crossing of the line of departure (LD) on the left, and a few minutes later he saw the road that he had designated as this key control measure. But he had not yet heard from the infantry. He was still attacking blindly. Moreover, to continue moving forward with the armored vehicles risked running into his own dismounts. In the smoke and the poor light, with nervous trigger fingers itching for combat, the chance of shooting his own men, of fratricide, was extremely high.

  “Oscar 42, Poppa 42, pull into some cover and establish contact with your infantry. Give me a situation report before you proceed.” Always called to Bravo and Alpha companies.

  In a few minutes A Company reported that it was still about 1,500 meters short of Checkpoint 1. Captain Baker, on the ground with his dismounted soldiers, called directly to Always, who had to switch to unsecure on his radio to answer him. B Company’s dismounts were nearing CP 2, but it appeared as if an obstacle was located there; they would have to move cautiously. Always heard artillery fire coming in over to his left in the vicinity of Echo Company. He terminated his conversation with Captain Baker and shifted back to secure in order to find out what was going on. He had not heard any of the conversations of the last few minutes because when he had left the secure mode to converse with Baker he had essentially left his own net. Each shift of mode on the radio necessitated a contortion by Always in his seat. The radios were located directly behind the small of his back; in the narrow confines of the commander’s cupola he had to drop down, swivel around, find the switch in the gloom of the vehicle interior, and change its position.

  As he came up in secure he heard Captain Evans talking to the TOC. “… intensive fire coming in. I’m taking casualties. The enemy has a fix on my location. I’ve got to pull out of here or get chewed to pieces.”

  Always approved the move, but neither battalion nor company commander was sure where Echo was going to go. To move forward would put it out in front of the attack. To move back would put it out of the direct fire range of its own guns, unable to reach to the suspected enemy positions. The precision of the incoming artillery indicated that the enemy had placed his own reconnaissance in position the night before, probably as the first elements of Always’ quartering parties were seen coming in. He had fixed E Company’s exact position, and even in the smoke had been able to bring Evans under effective fire. A minute later the mortar platoon reported that it was also taking artillery fire. Two tubes had been destroyed in the first barrage, and several of the mortarmen wounded. The mortar platoon, too, would have to pull out.

  Captain Baker was calling in the clear. “The obstacles are covered. I’m taking small arms fire and incoming mortars. This is going to take awhile.”

  Always needed some movement on his left. He attempted to call A Company’s dismounts directly, but they were either out of the range of their portable radios or an intervening terrain feature was interrupting the transmission waves. The colonel had now been operating in the clear for two minutes and he needed to get back to secure.

  This was the moment that Brigade chose to call for a situation report. Even as he answered he found himself taking incoming artillery fire. He reached up to close the hatch cover as he responded to the call from higher headquarters. Simultaneously E Company reported in its new position as the TOC overrode Evans’ call to yell out that they were under artillery fire and would have to move. The noise had become deafening—the artillery fire, the roar of the Bradley engine as Spivey pulled them out of the fire, the chatter on both radio nets, and the conversations between the colonel and his crew on the intercom as the battalion commander tried to keep himself moving with Bravo Company. The artillery fire was eating them alive. He should have swept the area for enemy scouts. A mere one or two of them, situated close enough to observe the task force’s movements in and around the LD and the assembly area, was throwing the entire attack off balance.

  Brigade was not happy with the report and encouraged Always to get moving. Now Alpha Company was calling for artillery support as it neared CP 1. It had picked up a report of Bravo’s fight at CP 2 and was proceeding with caution. The artillery was now having to choose between supporting Bravo and Alpha or concentrating on countermortar or counterartillery fire to ease the dilemma of the task force. Always was hard pressed to give guidance, not because he did not know what he wanted to prioritize (it was crucial that B Company break through the obstacle) but because his artillery officer was caught in the dislocation of the TOC and was momentarily off the net. That left him only the mortars to turn to, but they were down one third of their guns, and the other four were on the move.

  The key seemed to be B Company. If it could get through the obstacle, the task force could ram home the main attack.

  “Oscar 42, this is Lima 42, over.” Always was trying to reach Captain Baker.

  “Oscar 42, this is Lima 42.”

  No response.

  “Oscar, this is Lima.”

  The colonel’s voice was hardening. He remembered Baker was operating without secure, cursed himself, and flipped the radio switch. “Oscar 42, this is Lima 42.”

  Heavy breathing. “This is Oscar 42, over.”

  “This is Lima. Sitrep.”

  “Roger. We’re closing in on the obstacle slowly but surely. I’ve taken seven casualties, three killed, four wounded. I’ll need to get them out or two of them will be done for. Over.”

  “Oscar, this is Lima. The whole shebang is dependent on you getting through that obstacle. That’s got to be your first priority. Put a full court press on, and get through that obstacle. Call me the second you make it. Do you roger?”

  “This is Oscar. I roger.”

  Always’ mind was racing. He could not be sure how long Baker would take and he had to get something going. The whole attack
was falling apart at the line of departure. He considered committing Charlie Company to try to penetrate at CP 4, then dismissed the idea. There was still a chance to put the plan into effect if Alpha could close in on CP 1.

  “Lima 42, this is Lima 51, over.” It was the smoke platoon.

  “This is Lima 42, over.”

  “This is 51. We will be out of smoke in five minutes.”

  “This is 42. Roger, out.”

  “Poppa 42, this is Lima 42.”

  “This is Poppa, over.” Alpha Company answered quickly.

  “This is Lima. I need you to launch your vehicles up to CP 1. Try to coordinate it with your ground element. We’re being held up in the south, and I need you to punch through.”

  “Wilco, over.”

  “This is Lima, let me know when you get there. Out.”

  The traffic on the radio was picking up speed. At any given moment three or four stations were trying to reach Always. The TOC was now back in operation and the fire support officer was seeking guidance. The air force liaison officer entered the net, unsecure—yet another station necessitating a quick switch off the secure mode. Charlie Company came under artillery fire and had to shift position. Captain Carter was eager to kick off his attack, but Always held him back until he could get a clearer picture. Brigade called two more times, the demand in Always’ commander’s voice quickening.

  Five interminable minutes passed. Then, “Lima, this is Oscar, I’m through the obstacle.”

  Always’ heart jumped. “This is Lima. Say again, over.”

  “This is Oscar. I say again, I’m through the obstacle.”