Firestorm: Stripes

It was a cool, damp morning near the town of Schkortleben. Major Rosilov, who had taken command after the utter failure of his predecessor, had his men camped just outside the town and most of his men were still asleep. He was out drinking his coffee and stretching his legs when his aide came. “Sir, there is a message for you at the headquarters.” Somebody gave one last stretch and headed to the command post.

When he arrived, they handed him the telephone, “Major, our sister division was engaged a little while ago by US Marines and is taking heavy casualties, I think they are about to break. We need you to hold the bridge near your area at all costs. The Americans appear to be trying to open the supply lines to Leipzig. I tell you, you need to hold that bridge head at all costs, understood?” “Yes, sir,” somebody said. “Sgt. Safranski, get on the horn and get the men up and into the town to set up a defense.”

His men were up and moving within an hour and his No. 6 Company, under Sr. Lt. Abramov, set up and dug in near the norther bridge just out side of town. This was the key bridge that must be held. Capt. Rachenko mounted his company and started moving south to try and secure the southern most bridge head before the Americans can arrive. Sr. Lt. Makarov set his tanks near the middle to react to anything that came his way. Then it began.

Before Rachenko could get into position, the enemy presented themselves. Abramov’s company came under mortar and heavy machine gun fire. Then out of nowhere, three of his BMP’s blew up, another was undamaged but the crew unnerved. Someone didn’t know if they were tanks or just anti-tank missiles, but either way they were bad. Rachenko’s company came under tank fire from the woods on the other side of the bridge. Fortunately, they were not aiming at him and all his men were still in good order. Lt. Tatarov’s Spandrel section, unfortunately were the ones target by the enemy tanks and AT missiles, he must have had some luck because all that happened were a few brushed hairs and some wet grass as the rounds fell short or buzzed by.

“This is Rook 121, we are on station and awaiting orders.” Rosilov had air cover, he ordered the SU-25’s to attack the tanks that were in the woods and causing a bit of a ruckus. Hearing the loud engines overhead, Rosilov watched as the two aircraft came in unhindered by AAA fire. The slowed down and got a lock, two missiles left the rails and managed to make it through the trees and kill an enemy tank. “Rook 121, good hit, one target destroyed,” Rosilov told the pilots as they pulled out of the area.
Lt. Tatarov quickly moved his Spandrel’s into position, took aim and fired. It must have been a quick shot as all the missiles went wild and missed their targets. As Tatarov was firing, Rachenko moved his company to the far southern end of Schkortleben and tried to set up a defense.
Meanwhile, Abramov and his company still held their side of the bridge. The remaining BMP’s fired their missiles and scored hits. Rosilov could see smoke from two of the enemy transports, good kill. Then another round of mortar fire hit his lines, killing one more BMP and killing some of his men. His company was still in good order.

“Infantry direct front, behind those bushes.” Rachenko’s men could see movement and enemy transports just south of a small rise. They were taking cover behind a small line of bushes and preparing to engage. Before any of his men could engage, Rachenko was hit by artillery, and anti-tank fire. The artillery had little effect on the buttoned-up BMP’s but two of his tracks were blown sky high by TOW missiles. Rachenko could see that some of the men were able to get out but could not help but cover his nose at the smell of burning flesh. He ordered his men to dismount and take positions to engage the enemy. With an almost lack luster movement, his men were out and in position to pour as much fire into the enemy as possible. His remaining BMP’s moved up to support the attack. “Triple-A beyond the bushes, target priority,” said Sr. Sgt. Tebrov called to his gunner. All the BMP’s turrets turned to target anything that was not on two legs. Along his small line you could hear the “clack, clack, clack” of the AK’s, and the “thump, thump, thump” of the grenade laucher, they had found their targets and engaged. They could hear the screams of men that had been hit and were dying. Rachenko’s BMP’s now opened fire.

“Gunner, APC and Triple-A direct front.”
“Target sighted, range 150 meters.”
“Fire!”
“On the way.” The 30mm cannon on the BMP’s made quick order of the enemy APC’s and VADS. Rachenko looked and could see multiple holes in all of them and no one trying to get out of them. They were burning hulks at that point. Thinking he had the upper hand, Rachenko ordered his men to attack the enemy. His men could only get to a small section of the line. He had underestimated the tenasity of the American soldier. The assault was thwarted by a hail of enemy bullets. His men fell back to the cover of the BMP’s. We will get them next time, he thought.

The enemy had received reinforcements to the south and bolstered the American infantry. They opened up a hail of rifle and machine gun fire onto Rachenko’s men. The onslaught was almost too much to bear and all but one of his BMP’s were gone and he had lost nearly half of his company. Rachenko ordered his men to fall back into the town and take cover.

“I want that FO gone!!!”, said Rosilov after getting hit by yet another round of artillery. “Call back to division and have them shoot the cannoneers out of the guns, I need something.” Just then, “Sir, the general is on the phone for you.”

“Sir, how can I help you?’ Rosilov acknowledged. “Our division to the north has broken and the Marines are closing hard and fast. Hold as long as you can, but if things become untennable, pull back. “Yes sir.” Rosilov replied. As soon as he got of the phone with higher, he could hear the whoosh of artillery, it was out going. The FO had target the enemy infantry to the south and inflicted some damage. Thank God, he thought, finally.

“Hammer 1 this is Jackal 6, I need you to find that enemy FO and kill him. He has inflicted too much damage for my liking.” Rosilov told Makarov. “Yes sir, will find and destroy.”

Rosilov could hear the tanks engine rumble as they moved out to find their prey. “Enemy sighted, range 900 meters, behind bushes. All tanks engage.” Makarov told his tank commanders. Only three could had the range to the target, and those three fired. “I see smoke on the horizon. I think we hit it.” Makarov’s gunner said. They indeed found and killed their target.

“Target found and destroyed, Jackal 6”, said Makarov. Good deal, thought Rosilov. “This is Rook 121, we are on station waiting for target.” Rosilov had his air again. He decided to make a bold move, he knew he had to take a chance and take out the enemy helicopters. “Rook 121, target enemy helos, direction southeast, come in from the west. Take them out.”
“Roger, Rook 121 has target in sight, moving to engage.”
“Storm 619, this is Jackal 6, over.” Rosilov called to his helos.
“This is Storm 619, go ahead.”
“Target enemy Triple-A behind center woods. Give’em everything you got.” With that, the ball was set in motion to who would take the day.

“Enemy triple-A sighted, engaging.”
“Break left, enemy AAA fire, 4 o’clock”, It was too little to late, .50 cal AAA fire from the enemy mortar tracks hit home. Within seconds three of the Hinds were down. The last one, though unnerved, continued to push.
“Target acquired, firing missile.”
“Unknown impact, it appears to have gone through the vehicle.” Ether the shot was rushed, or it indeed did go straight through, the vehicle was still operational.

“Enemy helos insight. Switching to guns.”
“Break, Break, Break.” Hearing the tone of a lock in his helmet the pilot dried to dodge the incoming missile but failed. It ripped into his left wing at the base completely off. Rosilov could see the smoke from the plane as it dropped out of view. He just caught a glint of a piece of metal in mid-air. He looked closer and it was a parachute, the pilot managed to bailout.

“In range, firing.” The other pilot had managed to miss the Stinger’s but was off target. His rounds went wide and did not hit either of the Cobra’s. Rosilov knew that without his air cover, it would be hard to win the day.

Seeing the enemy tanks move onto the bridge, Rosilov ordered his tanks to move to engage them. The acknowledged the order and started to move toward the tanks. They were not to reach them. With his air gone, and little triple-A of his own, Rosilov saw his death approach.

On the horizon, he spotted two dots. As they drew closer he saw that they were American A-10’s. His triple-A unable to engage, the A-10’s had free range. Seeing smoke trails come off the wings, Rosilov watched as they hit their mark sending two of the tanks to a fiery grave. A loud bang rang out, then the turret of another tank fell to earth. The Cobra’s had pounced as well.

Knowing he had enemy to his rear and front, he held as long as he could. Rosilov ordered his men to fall back before anymore could be killed in the vice that was coming. He had heard stories of the US Marines, how they were all convicts and had at least one murder under their belts before even being allowed to join. He himself didn’t believe it, but he knew his men did. He would try and save face a pullback gracefully and quickly from the field.

Major Rosilov was disappointed by his loss, but was comforted by the fact that hopefully he allowed enough time for his fellow countrymen to escape the vice. He and his men would live to fight another day and face the Imperialist Dogs once more.