Red Storm Rising by Tom Clancy

“For Christ’s sake, stop so I can shoot one of the fuckers!” the gunner screamed. The tank stopped at once. He fired, hitting a T-72 on the tread. “Reload!”

A second tank joined Mackall’s, a hundred meters to his left. It was intact and fired off three quick rounds for two hits. Then a Soviet helicopter reappeared and exploded the troop commander’s tank with a missile. A shoulder-fired Stinger missile then killed the chopper as the German infantry redeployed. Mackall watched a pair of HOT antitank missiles go left and right of his turret, reaching for the advancing Soviets. Both hit.

“Antenna tank, dead ahead.”

“I see him. Sabot!” the gunner cranked the turret back to the right. He elevated his gun to battle sights and fired.

“Captain Alexandrov!” the division commander shouted into his microphone. The battalion commander’s transmission had stopped in midword. The colonel was using his radio too much. Ten miles away, a German battery of 155mm mobile guns tracked in on the radio signals and fired twenty quick rounds.

Alekseyev heard the incoming and jumped into a German-dug foxhole, dragging Sergetov with him. Five seconds later the area was blanketed by smoke and noise.

The General stuck his head up to see the colonel still standing, still giving radio orders. Behind him the command vehicle was burning, the radios with it. Five men were dead, another half-dozen screaming with the pain of their injuries. Alekseyev looked with annoyance at a bloody streak on the back of his hand.

Mackall killed one more tank, but it was the Germans who stopped the attack, using the last of their HOT missiles to do so. The remaining Russian commander lost his nerve when half the tanks in the battalion were hit. The survivors turned on their smoke generators and retreated back around the hill to the south. Artillery chased after them. The land battle was over for the moment.

“Mackall, what’s happening down your way?” the troop executive officer inquired.

“Where’s Six?”

“To your left.” Mackall looked and saw the troop commander’s burning tank. So that’s who it was

“Just us, sir. What’s left?”

“I count four.”

My God, the sergeant thought.

“Get me a Regiment from the tank division and I can do it. They have nothing left!” the colonel insisted. His face was bloody from a superficial wound.

“I will do this. How soon can you continue the attack?” Alekseyev asked.

“Two hours. I need that long to regroup my forces.”

“Very well. I must return to headquarters. The enemy opposition was tougher than you expected, Comrade Colonel. Otherwise your forces performed well. Tell your intelligence section to work harder. Gather up your prisoners and interrogate them rigorously!” Alekseyev moved off with Sergetov in his wake.

“Worse than I expected,” the captain observed once they were inside their vehicle.

“They must have had nearly a Regiment facing us.” Alekseyev shrugged. “We can’t make that kind of mistake very often and expect to succeed. We advanced four kilometers in two hours, but the cost was murderous. And those bastards in the Air Force! I’ll have something to say to our Frontal Aviation generals when we get back!”

“That makes you troop XO,” the lieutenant said. It turned out there were five surviving tanks. One had both radios broken. “You did good, real good.”

“How’d the Germans make out?” Mackall asked his new boss.

“Fifty-percent losses, and Ivan kicked us back four klicks. We can’t expect to survive much more of this. We may have some reinforcements in an hour. I think I convinced Regiment that Ivan really wants this place. We’ll be getting help. Same for the Germans. They promised another battalion by nightfall, maybe a second one by dawn. Take your track down for refuel and reload. Our friends may be back soon.”

“That’s one little and two big attacks for this village. They ain’t got it yet, sir. ”

“One other thing. I talked to Regiment about you. The colonel says you’re an officer now.”

Mackall’s tank spent ten minutes getting to the rearm point. Fueling took ten minutes while the exhausted crewmen loaded a new collection of shells. The sergeant was surprised that he had to head back to the front five rounds short.

“You’ve been hit, Pasha.” The younger man shook his head.

“I scratched my hand getting out of the helicopter. I’ll let it bleed awhile to punish myself for clumsiness.” Alekseyev sat opposite his commander and downed a full liter canteen of water. He was embarrassed by his slight wound and decided to lie about it.

“The attack?”

“Opposition was ferocious. We’d been told to expect two infantry battalions, plus tanks. I estimate the actual enemy strength as a damaged regiment, and they had well-prepared positions. Even so, we almost broke through. The colonel in command had a good plan, and his men pushed as hard as anyone could expect. We forced them back to within sight of the objective. I want to release a regiment of tanks from the OMG to the next attack.”

“We are not permitted to do this.”

“What?” Alekseyev was stunned.

“The Operational Maneuver Groups are to remain intact until the breakthrough is achieved. Orders from Moscow.”

“One more regiment will do it. The objective is in sight! We’ve chewed up one motor rifle division to get this far, and lost half the strength of another. We can win this battle and get the first major rupture in NATO lines-but we have to act now!”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, but we must move fast. The Germans must realize how close this battle has become. They’ll try to reinforce also. The lead regiment from 30th Guards Tank Division is one hour from the front. If we can get them moving within thirty minutes, they’ll be part of the next attack. In fact, we should move the whole division up. This opportunity will not last long.”

“Very well. I’ll call STAVKA for permission.”

Alekseyev leaned back and closed his eyes. The Soviet command structure: to deviate from the Plan, even a Theater commander had to get permission! It took over an hour while the staff geniuses in Moscow examined the maps. The lead regiment of 30th Guards was released and ordered to join the motor-rifle division in the next attack. But they were late, and the attack was delayed ninety minutes.

Second Lieutenant Terry Mackall-he still wore his stripes and was too tired to care about his change in rank-wondered how seriously Command was taking this little tank battle. Two battalions of German regulars arrived in tracked vehicles, relieving the exhausted Landwehr men, who moved back to prepare defensive positions in and around the village to their rear. A company of Leopard tanks and two platoons of M-1s reinforced the position, with a German colonel in overall command . He arrived by helicopter and surveyed all the defensive positions. A tough-looking little bastard, Mackall thought, with some bandages on his face and a tight unsmiling mouth. Mackall remembered that if Ivan broke through here, he just might be able to flank the German and British forces that had stopped the Russians’ deepest penetration at the suburbs of Hannover. That made the battle important to the Germans.

The German Leopards took the frontal positions, relieving the Americans. It was a full troop now, back to fourteen vehicles. The troop commander split the force into two parts, with Mackall commanding the southern group. They found the last line of dug shelters, just southeast of the village. Mackall arrayed his newly assigned command with care, checking each position on foot and conferring with each tank commander. The Germans were thorough enough. Any position that did not already have natural shrubbery in place had had it transplanted in. Nearly all of the civilians who lived here had been evacuated, but a handful of people were unwilling to desert the homes they’d built. One of them brought some of the tankers hot food. Mackall’s crew didn’t have time to eat it. The gunner repaired two loose connectors and reset the balky fire-control computer. The loader and driver worked on a loose tread. Artillery was falling around them before they finished.

Alekseyev wanted to be there. He had a telephone link with the division, and listened in on the division command circuit. The colonel-Alekseyev wanted to make him a general if the attack succeeded-complained that they had been forced to wait too long. He’d asked for and gotten a reconnaissance mission over enemy lines. One of the aircraft had vanished. The other’s pilot reported movement, but could not provide a strength estimate, so busy had he been dodging surface-to-air missiles. The colonel feared there had been an increase in enemy strength, but without hard evidence could not justify either a further delay or further reinforcements.

Mackall also watched from a distance. The last row of hills was a mile away, across what had been a farm but was now covered mostly with small trees, as though the soil had been exhausted. His forces were organized in two three-tank platoons. As commander, his job was to lie back and direct them by radio.

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