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Authors: James R. McDonough
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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 clearerpicture. 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.”
In a flash Always acknowledged the call, signaled the vehicles in Bravo to move forward, and directed Charlie to follow. Just as the smoke lifted they dashed across the tank trail straight at Checkpoint 2, twenty-three vehicles still able to move after the intense artillery pounding in the two companies. Missing were the air defense teams mounted in the jeeps. Without armor protection they had been killed in the initial barrages.
Suddenly Bravo Company lurched to a sudden stop, forcing Private First Class Spivey to scoot his vehicle to the right to avoid crashing into its tail vehicle. Always smashed his face into the sight to his front. Buttoned up in the vehicle, with his hands grasping the map and the various communications controls, shifting rapidly to the turret controls whenever he sensed the likelihood of enemy engagement, he was careening back and forth in his seat like a top out of control. A trickle of blood worked its way down his nose.
“What in the hell is going on?”
His question drifted over the intercom system, bringing a polite response from his gunner, “I don’t know, sir.”
Dust flew every which way, obscuring vision worse than had the smoke. Always reached up and
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 clearerpicture. 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.”
In a flash Always acknowledged the call, signaled the vehicles in Bravo to move forward, and directed Charlie to follow. Just as the smoke lifted they dashed across the tank trail straight at Checkpoint 2, twenty-three vehicles still able to move after the intense artillery pounding in the two companies. Missing were the air defense teams mounted in the jeeps. Without armor protection they had been killed in the initial barrages.
Suddenly Bravo Company lurched to a sudden stop, forcing Private First Class Spivey to scoot his vehicle to the right to avoid crashing into its tail vehicle. Always smashed his face into the sight to his front. Buttoned up in the vehicle, with his hands grasping the map and the various communications controls, shifting rapidly to the turret controls whenever he sensed the likelihood of enemy engagement, he was careening back and forth in his seat like a top out of control. A trickle of blood worked its way down his nose.
“What in the hell is going on?”
His question drifted over the intercom system, bringing a polite response from his gunner, “I don’t know, sir.”
Dust flew every which way, obscuring vision worse than had the smoke. Always reached up and
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