Land Of Flatwater: One Nation Under The Gun
Here's a chance to dance our way
out of our constrictions
Gonna be freakin'!
Up and down
Hang up alley way
With the groove our
Only guide
We shall all be moved
Ready or not here we come
Gettin' down on the one which
We believe in
near Untergruppenbach, West Germany Saturday February 18, 1984 1730 ZULU
"Can I get it on the good foot GOOD GOD!!!!" Tony screamed as he moved his tank into position to get Okie another shot.
Shells, bullets and jet contrails zigzagged across the German plains. The instant U.S.-British-German-French coalition of tanks battled the Soviet and Bulgarian armor trying to run to help their legions in Stuttgart. The NATO forces were determined not to give them the chance.
Along side them was ground infantry. Using M-16s, RPGs and anti-tank missiles. A desperate charge to slow the Soviets down, and it was working. For the first time all day, the Soviet troops were feeling strangled.
"Mark 045," the Tank Commander wailed. "FIRE!"
"DIE RED BASTARD!!!" The Gunner yelled as the shell flew toward a Bulgarian T-72. The shell struck it mark true......
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!
The explosion rocked the ground, and it was the first of many. The MiG-23s roared in firing rockets. Su-25s dropped concussion bombs. Soldiers with stinger and AA guns sent a response, but not before the Warsaw Pact aerial strike put 4 tanks down and out.
"Shit!" Tony yelled. "WHERE'S OUR AIR COVER!!!!"
"Badger 1-5 to ground...set up air hunter groups. KNOCK THOSE BUGS DOWN!
Stingers spewed fire as missiles raised up to chase the attacking fighters. The tanks continued their assaults on the opposing armor. Wary of the next pass for the aircraft. Hoping some NATO air power would get in the fight.
Tony drove Yankee 3-1 like a man possessed. This was bigger than anything he had ever done. Through the explosions, chaos and death going on around him, he felt amazingly calm. He was well in "The Zone". Numb to everything except what mattered most. Three other lives in his hands.
"Badger 1-5 to all tanks, watch for their next pass..."
"Copy that, leader.."
"WATCHTOWER ..ALERT....ALL FORCES....INCOMING AIRCRAFT.....COVER ENROUTE...
Tony could see the Su-25s. He could feel them...He heard the missile warning beep in the cupola....BEEEEEEEP
"SHIT!," the TC said in his West Virginia drawl. "They've got lock..."
The other tanks in the column broke for retreat... Tony instead zigzagged in random directions the draw the fire. He knew the game the Russian and East German pilots wanted to play.
"Tony WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" the TC screamed.
Tony rotate the the turret, "Sir, man the gun up top. Okie, fire some rounds now...You see anything with a red star on it...NAIL IT," Tony said in a robot monotone.
Okie selected a target, loaded the shell and fired...BOOM!!!!!
The round impacted an East German tank trying to hide in some woods. "Stay with it Tony...I'm hitting him again.."
The later shell revealed the truth. a group of East German tanks were setting up a trap to pick off the NATO tanks after being draw out by the aerial assault. The Soviet strategist designed this well. They just didn't account for a Johnny-on-the-spot kid from Omaha seeing through it.
Ground troops dug in and battled the Warsaw Pact troops seeded with elite Spetsnaz personnel. The East German armor fired a constant barrage, but the representatives of the West stood their ground. The NVA was slowly losing their grip...
WOOOOSH!!!!!!!!!
bom! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"INCOMING!!!!!!! MISSILE ATTACK INCOMING!!!!!" the Radioman screamed.
Two more shell roared from Yankee 3-1 as Tony franctically danced the tanks around the rockets and missiles... He nearly got away with it..
One rocket glanced off the track of Yankee 3-1 and it deked away...
BOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!
Yankee 3-1 was hit and nearly feel over.. The tank was still functioning...but couldn't move..and some of the electronics were damaged.
"C'mon Baby!" Tony pleaded, his position rising in smoke.. "C'MON! C'MON!!!!"
The big Oklahoma gunner grabbed Tony..."C'mon Husker," he yelled as he grabbed Tony, "WE'RE OUTTA HERE!!!!"
The commander and the radioman grabbed the M16s stored in the tank and crawled out through an emergency hatch from the rear.
""A new style tank," the TC thought as the slid out through the back and into the smoke fog and craziness of war.
Tony was in a daze. He barely noticed the flying bullets and the smoke. He noticed the tank. His tank.
He looked at the track grotesquely askew as the metal smoldered. The steel composite armor did it's job. Tony seemed frozen and numb. Just a minute ago, he was in the heat of battle. He still was, but in his mind. He could hear nothing. It was just him and the tank. His tank.
BOOOM!!!!!
"WAKE THE FUCK UP AND C'MON," the Radioman said. "YOU ARE ONE DUMB.....DAMN MAN!!! C'MON!!!!"
the Radioman and the Okie grabbed tony and they start weaving and running across the dense smoke. It was confusion. Soldiers pushing and running.. Two air strikes, one from the Frogfoots and second one from A-10 Warthogs turned much around Untergruppenbach into a cauldron of smoke and fire. Both sides were hit hard. The remaining Soviets pulled back in a daze."
"All forces pull back to designated fallback positions. I SAY AGAIN...retreat to fallback positions...retreat to fallback positions....time check...1915 ZULU...."
"Where do we go now," the Okie asked."
The Tank Commander pulled out his compass..."West, we head west...It's going to be dark soon."..
The light faded over West Germany within the hour. It was darkness again. In the far distance, you could hear the guns of the battle. But not here. Here was just a cold wind, and the hulks metal, spent shells, and at least four of the airplanes, twisted, wrecked and strewn across the tree and plains.
The foursome ran for the trees, heading west. The only sounds they heard was their pounding hearts.
2300 ZULU Saturday February 18, 1984 near Galgenberg, West Germany
The Radioman periodically tried to raise someone. "Yankee 3-1 to Any Eagle Control...over....Yankee 3-1....transmitting to all Eagles...over.."
"Still nothing," the Radioman said.
The Tank Commander furiously studied his maps to find where they were. They had just scaled and small set of wooded hills and dales heading northwest away from Untergruppenbach.
"Reminds of being on a cattle drive back home," the Okie said. "It's getting cold and we may have to consider bedding down."
"We have to keep pushing," the Tank Commander. "We have to find the nearest installation. There has to be our people there."
Tony hadn't said a word since the firefight at Untergruppenbach. He gripped his M-16 like a child with his favorite toy. He was still shaking. Remembering the fear-adrenalin cocktail he was guzzling as he drove that tank. His eyes darted nervously. He was had looked straight down the edge of the cliff between life and death.
The Radioman looked back at Tony. "Hey man," he said. "You still with us?"
Tony nodded silently, but the Radioman could see the glaze in his friend's eyes. He didn't like the look. "Hey man, you don't look good.. Sir! Get back here...Check Tony out."
The Tank Commander turned and checked Tony out. He looked pale and scared. The E-5 was shellshocked, and it showed.
"Talk to me solder," the TC said tersely. "Specialist Freeman report in."
Tony stood at attention. He wanted to speak, but nothing would come out at first..
"Sir.......I'm......sorry.......sir," Tony said haltingly.
"Sorry about what,man?" the Okie said.
"I.....nearly...killed...us.....all," Tony was blank. Scared. He was breaking down. He began to cry..
The TC struggled a little bit to keep calm. He was just as nervous and scared as Tony. Everybody was. Four men together who had never seen combat. On that day they saw more death than they ever had in their lives.
The TC stood right at Tony's face. "Listen to me soldier," he said. "Freeman, you took charge and saved our lives back there. You didn't kill us. You are still alive, soldier so DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING ACTION! We are still alive soldier. We need you right now, Specialist! Don't fold on the team, brother."
"Yeah man," the Radioman said. "Stay with us, Omaha. We need you!"
Tony gripped his M-16 tighter. "Yes sir," he said with a little more confidence. "Sorry sir...I'm....just..."
"Afraid," the Okie said. "So what? We all are. No shame in that.
"None at all," the TC said. He looked at his three mates. "Fellas, we are going to find our people. We're going to get another tank, and we are going to kick some Marxist-Leninist ass!"
The four continue to walk through the dark night. Little food. Little sleep. Little of a lot of things. They were running on will and faith....But, they were being watched...
"Главный товарищ, прослеживая четыре. Они вооружены. Возможно американец." ("Comrade Major, tracking four. They are armed. Possibly American.")
"Контролируйте их. Сообщение в. Подготовите западню." (""Monitor them. Report in. Prepare the trap.")
"Wolf Scout to Homestead....tracking four. Looks like a tank crew. Sound like ours. Should we approach?
"Maintain surveillance Wolf Scout...Let's see if their friends make a move."
"Homestead, one of them is black, sir. Since when did Spetnaz recruit Soul Brothers?"
"He could be Cuban or Angolan and well trained. Continue tracking, Wolf Scout. Homestead out."
The foursome continued to make their way through the grass fields mixed with more deep treeline. Tony looked around. His mind was beginning to put its pieces back together. The whole day was replaying in his head. They didn't realize that they were well into Sunday February 19. To them it didn't matter. They were on the run. They were at war.
Sunday February 19, 1984....0500 ZULU....18 clicks southeast of Hockenheim, West Germany.
They had taken a short rest during the night. Maybe an hour, but the Yankee 3-1 team was on the move again. Radioman had caught a trace of a signal an hour ago.
Parallel to the four soldiers, were more soldiers. Watching. Probing. Waiting.
"I see something ahead," the TC whisper. "It looked like a man...wrapped in a parachute. The man could see them, too. All four began to raise their weapons."
"The man panicked. "Lads, lads! Mates! Put those down. I'm one of you."
The four trained their weapons, the TC spoke first. "You sound British."
"Because am I British," the man, looking like a haggard RAF pilot, "Major Colin Norcross, RAF 3rd Squadron. Damned Reds took down my Harrier. My Sarah, she was a lovely little jet."
Tony's mind began to mesh, he could form words now. "You are a long way from home, Major. Shouldn't you be up North?"
"They rotated a number of us south to help you boys," the Major said.
"Well, you guys did help us out big time," the Okie said. "Brutal fight yesterday.
"Untergruppenbach? Stuttgart?" Colin enquired.
A few clicks away a troop was listening in with a wire in his ear. Other troops began to spread out. A separate force watched through binoculars and they began to spread out, too.
"We're part of a tank crew," the TC said. "We are trying to find if any allies are uncamped anywhere. Maybe we've regroupped someplace."
"I've gotten some radio signals," the RAF Major said. "I've been tracking a place just Northwest of here. I don't have a great fix, but I have a good idea. Maybe we can help each other.
Tony shot the Radioman a quick look. It was look that said, "Don't say shit, yet." Tony knew the Radioman had picked up something. But something struck Tony odd about flyer they've met. Shellshock was replaced by suspicion.
The foursome now added one as the began to follow the British pilot. Tony made his way close to him. "Excuse me, sir," Tony said. "We forgot something."
"Soldier?" the TC asked.
"Major...Norcross?"
"Yeah, mate?"
"Call sign, Major."
Norcross looked confused, using the morning as cover, but Tony was wide awake.
"Look mate, no need to cause a fuss."
Tony's eyes narrowed.."Call sign, Major.
"Are you taking the bloody piss? WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR.
"CALL SIGN!"
In one motion Tony pulled, loaded and drew his service sidearm..The British flyer was found out, as he was scrambling to speak into the microphone he was wired with.
"Это трусит! ТЯНИТЕ СТРУННЫЕ! Окружите и нападите на американцев!" ("This is Kuklachev! PULL THE STRINGS! SURROUND AND ATTACK THE AMERICANS!")
BANG!
Tony shot the "RAF Major" at point blank range. A perfect head shot. A quick execution, but he did not celebrate.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" the TC protested.
"Be silent and take cover. spread out! Spets are here," Tony replied firmly.
Eyes roaming. Looking for Soviets. Looking for the Spets. Looking. Looking. Looking.......
"The AK-47 pinging morse code rang through the trees. The Soviets sniping for where they thought the Americans were. Tony saw them crunching throughs the tree. He turned from a position behind a large rock..and fired. He struck two of their number.
The TC dove into a bank. Radio and Okie found cover behind some rock-strewn marsh. They were four men with M-16s, service pistols, and a few grenades against a Spetsnaz unit of maybe 30.
The Soviets raced to surround the area. One of them drew a bead on a body they saw...and he threw a grenade..
"SHIT!" the Radioman screamed.."MOVE OKLAHOMA!!!!"
The dove out of the marsh as the grenade blew up..They barely escape with their limbs. But Oklahoma got the worst of the landing..
"OH JESUS!! OH JESUS!," Okie screamed. His clavicle was broken from way he landed while diving away from the grenade. "His arm and shoulder were on fire with pain. Radioman was shooting with one hand, while trying to help us friend with the other.
Tony was pinned down behind the rocks. Bullets pinging off the front of it. He could see the Soviet soldiers in the distance. They were firing from all directions.....
BOOOOOOM!!!!! AAAAAAH!!!!!
Two precise grenade strikes hit each side of the perimeter the Spets set up. The screamed pierced the pre-dawn air. The special pitch of the AK-47s were down out by the dog's bark of M-16s.
Tony and the Commander joined in the chorus. Picking off the last Spets..
"HOLD YOUR FIRE" a voice said.
"ATTENTION UNKNOWN TROOPS," said a voice with a slight spanish accent. "COME OUT. HANDS UP. WE ARE FRIENDLIES."
Tony was shaking, scared, holding his rifie tightly. He saw the soldiers coming out of the brush. They were Americans.
The TC was the first to stand up. Tony then climbed out...The Radioman, helping Okie walked toward them.
Their leader was a big man. He looked a little bit like Desi Arnaz, economy-sized.
The big man stepped up front. "CALL SIGN!" he said.
All four answered, "CHRISTMAS"
Tony shot back, "COUNTER SIGN, SIR!"
"Don't sir me, soldier. I work for a living. -- Counter sign JINGLE!"
The big man smiled. "Staff Sargent Gabriel Siffuentes. Marine 3rd Division Recon."
"Good to see you Sargent," the TC said. "2nd Lieutenant Bill Michelle, United States Army. 2nd Armored Division.
"Staff Sargeant Kevin Lashar, United States Army
"Com specialist Ricardo Brown, United States Army
"Specialist Tony Freeman, United States Army
"Nice shot on that Spets you drew down on, Specialist. You must be from the wild west," the Marine said.
Tony replied back, "I am from Nebraska, Staff Sargeant."
"Oh you are?" the marine laughed. "Then I oughta leave your ass right here, Cornhusker."
"Why is that?"
The marine grinned. "I'm from Coral Gables, Florida. I'm still a little sore about the Orange Bowl."
The gathered Americans soldier grinned and laughed a little bit. Slowly daybreak was rising over West Germany.
"Saddle up Army brats," the marine said. "We're about 16 clicks from our rally point. Good morning, World War III. We're still in it.
Hockenheim, West Germany -- 0710 ZULU. -- Sunday February 19, 1984
The troops arrived at the NATO rally point. It was a hastily assembled forward base built into the Hockenheimring. In a peaceful world, this place is a Formula 1 race track. Since February 18, 1984, its a barracks and a hospital.
"Sir," the marine said to his CO, "We took out that Spets group we've been tracking, with a little help from these four Army pukes."
"Good morning," the marine Colonel stood up. "Colonel Mitch Gerhardt, 3rd Division. Damn good to see fellow Americans."
"Damn good to see you too, sir," the Tank Commander said. "So what is this place."
"Welcome to FIREBASE FINISH LINE," the Colonel said. "We just turned a race track into a place to regroup, and that is what we are doing. You boys look like you haven't had a hot meal or a shower in at least a day."
"We've been under fire since this all started," Tony said. "By the way, sir. What time is it."
"0715 ZULU Sunday Morning, soldier," the Colonel said. He noticed the wary look in the four men's eyes. They really have seen a full day of combat.
"Staff Sargent take the big boy here to the infirmary. Collarbones aren't supposed to stick up like that. Don't worry son, we have a crack team of medics."
Okie grimaced under the pain, "Thank you sir."
The Staff Sargent helped Okie out of the office.
"Fellas," the Colonel said. "Here's the poop. The Soviets hit us with four major incursions. A sea landing to the North on the Danish coast and the German coast. A Northern land group . The Third Shock Army rolled across the middle for the fulda gap. And then a Southern group that made a beeline for Stuttgart.
"That was the group that hit us," the TC said.
"Yes they were," the Colonel said.
"How bad off all we, sir?" Tony asked.
The Colonel looked deadly serious, "Not gonna lie to you, son. Its a world of hurt. We took a lot of beating in the first hours. Major losses. It would have been a lot worse if REFORGER didn't work as well as it did.
"The damn Soviets pushed in farther than we thought they would. I didn't expect them to be knocking on some big doors this soon."
"You mean they are surrounding the cities?" the TC said.
"They are sitting just outside Frankfurt and Stuttgart. They are threatening Hamburg. Do the math Lieutenant."
"I had heard that they were blocked from getting in and that Copenhagen has fallen" Tony said.
"Soldier, nothing has fallen," the Colonel said. "And that's some of the good news."
"You mean there is good news?" the TC retorted
"Hell yeah, Army! You're alive, dammit! That's put you well ahead about 100,000 other guys who are laying dead out there on both sides."
"Plenty good news," the Colonel continued. "Our allies have been unreal. The damn Dutch shocked all of us up North. Them and the British Navy turned that sea landing into one of them rifle games at the state fair. That set them back. Plus, they can't resupply as fast as we thought they could. The Air Force boys have been sending in 52s to Eastern Europe. We've hit rail lines, communications links, and send a nice bottle of wine to Lech Walesa. Solidarity people helped us took out some communications and control links for the Reds in southern Poland.
"How about the rest of the world?"
"That's better than we thought, too," the Colonel said. "The United States Navy owns the Persian Gulf. The Soviets bugged the hell on out when the Kitty Hawkers took it to them. You have Soviet submariners washing up on every beach from Turkey to Lebanon. The Syrians are seeing Israeli army everywhere. The Cubans are blockaded, and after what happened on the coast of Texas, I don't think they want to play the game."
"The colonel looked at the map. "The battle is here, gentlemen. Germany. North Sea and the Med. We're getting help from the other side, though. We may just walk out of here yet, especially if we can weaken them enough to where we can chop them up at GOAL LINE STAND."
"GOAL LINE STAND?" Tony asked.
""That's the game plan. Set up a big wall at the Rhine and dare the Soviets to try and knock it down."
The Colonel looked at the three men in his office. "You boys head to the mess tent and get some chow. You look like you could use it. Then I want you to get some Zs. It is 0735. Be back here at 1100 hours. We have new tanks coming in, but they will need people."
The three began to head out of the Colonel's office. "Gentlemen," the Colonel interrupted. The three Army troops turned around.
The Colonel snapped a salute, "I must salute you men," tears slowly forming in his blue eyes, "24 hours on the run and fighting hard. Way to keep fighting men."
All three returned the salute. They were still alive. They were still in the fight.