Just Another Recce Part II:
As the ruckus calmed down, the soldiers who were marched up to the observation post, as well as though who were seemly lucky enough to get a ride in the Ratel APC were allowed to rest first. Some of them had blood on the clothes, they had dark circles under their eyes, many of them had ripped or filthy uniforms or kit in bad shape. Everyone else was broken down into sections (Like an American squad), they'd sleep in turns, giving sentry duty to a different man every hour. They all rested deep in their trenches, next to their rifles and MGs. It seemed like they would make it through the night without anything happening, it was almost four AM. Warrant Officer Maarten barely slept all night, especially as he started conversing with the reinforcements as they started to wake up, often from shaking dreams. They were relieved from the frontal fortifications, defending the city of Kimberly near the Koppies Dam. They said that the Free Army hit them with barrage after barrage of mortars, attacked wave after wave, some of them almost fanatical.
"We managed to grab one of the white ones, oh we did a number on him. Apparently the world is against us, the Free Army has united with the ANC and they're calling us the illegitimate ones." Said Sergeant Mattis as he finished his canteen. "
They've got the numbers, looted weapons and a good amount of our units, especially the ones full of fucking Capetown rooineks. I'm English but I know what will happen if we lose, anyone can see it." The warrant didn't believe as much in the propaganda that was being constantly fed to their troops, but there had definitely been recent incidents, white refugees fleeing to the areas controlled by the Junta, this was much publicized by them, any murder or death on the opposing side was turned into radio reports about the killing of scores of clergy, rape of innocent women and etc. The warrant started thinking about his father, who had fought in WW2 against the Nazis, but was interrupted...
A flare shot up into the predawn sky, it was about 4:17AM, the lads on sentry screamed contact. Everyone, almost in unison readied themselves, even the conscripts who were just slower, copying the actions of the more experienced soldiers beside them. It was a trip flare, they were within 200 meters of their position, approaching from the north, and just as they trained their guns, another trip flare went off more to the west. The warrant yelled
"Get ready boys! They're coming, watch your angles of fire and don't waste a fucking round!". He crouched behind some sandbags, talking on the radio asking for illumination rounds on preregistered targets.
From the perspective of an enemy, a camouflaged, dug in observation post is extremely difficult to see at night; without good or modern optics that is, but it seemed as if someone in that force may have had something like that, directing their attack.
81mm Mortar rounds started flying on and near their position.
"Jesus fucking Christ! That was too fucking close." Yelled the master corporal
"Corporal get your fucking shit together, get Hubrecht squared away, he needs help!" The rounds were rendered somewhat ineffective by the earthworks, sandbags and fortifications, but the men were getting suppressed.
The warrant saw the glint, the slight movement. His eyes were trained in the heavy bush of Angola, the empty plains of south Africa were no challenge for him. He ran to his men on the north west facing fortifications, and pointed them out. Just as told them were to aim, just in front with their FN MAG, the illumination rounds started falling. These chemical apparitions, fired from the SADF's old 25 pounder howitzers revealed at least an entire company of soldiers moving in to out flank them.
"Let it fucking go!"
That's when the firefight started. Precise rifle fire from their Vektor R4s, a 5.56 South African "copy of the AKM", rugged, reliable and accurate. The mortar rounds kept coming down, but the soldiers kept firing, started receiving rounds back. But it seemed like they pinned at least half of the enemy company down with their machinegun fire. They started returning automatic fire back, some of it decently aimed, others flying wildly over. As the warrant officer, went from section to section, directing and reassuring his men. He got into the trench, his personal choice of weapon was his old FN-FAL. He saw Hubrecht, who was trying to remain composed, trying to return fire, but the boy was sacred. He reminded him too much of his own son.
"Hubrecht, run over to the ratel and tell them to uncover themselves, back up and try to get some fire on them from the other side." Hubrecht resisted "
Sir, I g-gotta stay here" "
I said get the fuck over to that Ratel, then take cover at the CP, don't worry, I'll cover your sector, now fucking move!"
The boy ran, silently relieved, ran from dug out to dug out, zigzagging to avoid the incoming fire. He looked behind him, it was something to behold. Flares going up in the sky, tracers flying, his trance was broken with an 81mm came a little too close for comfort. He felt searing pain in his shoulder, but it was nothing, his heart was pounding, he knew it must be nothing. He was confused, but he had to finish his mission. He ran to the Ratel and conveyed the warrants orders word for word. The men were winning and they knew it, at least half of that enemy company was either dead or completely pinned. But as the sun started to slowly come up, shining a pink hue on the plains and bushlands, it wasn't over. Smoke rounds hit in front, were they retreating or reorganizing? It was 5:41 AM already. Their ratel took a concealed, defilade position, their crew were veterans. As the smoke began to clear, it had become clear that they had killed at least fifty soldiers, some white, some black. The rest had taken defensive positions, behind rocks, trees, dragging their wounded back to help. But as the Sergeants observed, that was just a probing attack. There were at least three more companies approaching, from each side, and in the center, dust was being kicked in the air by fast movers. Maarten wasn't sure but put it together rather quickly, he heard of these before, "
Technicals?! Boys watch for those fucking trucks, get me my fucking radio"