Chapter 6: The Pass

The patrol moved forward, silent in the darkness and we all had the NVG’s on and they sucked but at least you could see something. Tunnel vision, but something. The old guys, they moved silent as ghosts, whispering through the darkness, crouched low, step by slow silent step and I crouched low in the middle, scared shitless because I’d never done this shit before and we were heading down into the valley and I was carrying more ammo in my ruck than I’d ever carried before and my knees were just about buckling and I had a map with all the pre-planned fire coordinates marked.

Slow stepping down towards the Ratdogs and I hadn’t even kissed Brad goodbye and I knew I was gonna die because there was no way back from this one but I couldn’t send my guys out knowing they were gonna die. Not unless I went with them and that last look from Brad, he’d known that and we both knew you had to do what you had to do and we’d signed up knowing that and I really wanted to pee and my hands were shaking and my teeth were just about chattering because I was scared so totally shitless.

The night was black. Pitch black and I could smell everything. That distinctive scent from the artillery that’d been firing all morning and it was as pervasive as the smell of the bodies and the tanks that still smoked in the darkness, burning diesel and steel and paint and roast pork and when I smelt that I almost puked. Sweat from the guys around me, and we all stank. Sweat and fear, because I wasn’t the only one that was scared, but they’d all volunteered when I told them I was going and I needed some guys to come with me.

Riley. Mortimer. Patel. Li. O’Connor. Metler. Escano. Roskill. Kagan. Maddock ‘d come and I didn’t want her too but she’d said “fuck you, ma’am. If you’re crazy enough to go down there, I’m coming with you.”

Them and one of the head shed Sigs. Young. Older guy and he’d shrugged and said “somebody’s gotta look after coms for you amateurs,” because he was a Regular. One of the first to come over. Last but not least was one of the Sergeant’s that Brad’d roped in.

Sergeant Calder and he was an old airborne guy. Black as the ace of spades and silent as the night and he knew his shit and my guys took one look at him and you could tell they knew that too. Calder never said a word, just loaded up with an old M-60 and a shit-load of ammo and spent the rest of the prep time strip-cleaning that gun and loading more belts of ammo. Thirteen of us, and crap, that wasn’t many to face those Ratdogs that were intent on coming up and I knew I was gonna die and I just hoped it didn’t hurt too much when it happened because I’d seen people die screaming and I didn’t want to go that way.

No talking. Calder held up his hand and fuck, he sure didn’t need any cam cream at night because he was the invisible man and I almost bumped into the guy in front of me and we were one click down the valley when Calder stopped us. Gestured, and it was perfect. Small dry ravine running down into the dried up river bed that ran down the center of the valley and it made a perfect observation post. Anyone coming up the valley or the sides of the valley ‘d be in plain sight and it overlooked the dirt road that zig-zagged up the incline.

“Dig in,” Calder gestured, and the guys got to work and you can dig silently if you’re really fucking careful and the guys scraped and they moved rocks and they shoveled dry dirt. I woulda helped but Calder gestured no, park your ass, ma’am. So I parked my ass and I sweated it out and the waiting was the hardest part. Waiting and watching, up on the rim of the ravine with Metler, both of us scanning the darkness and there was nothing. Faint noises from the Ratdog lines down-valley. Faint noises from our own lines a kilometer behind us up near the ridgeline.

The stars shone down now, cloud thinning and I scanned again and there were figures. Shapes, and I wasn’t sure so I nudged Metler and he looked and slid down and Sergeant Calder slid up beside me and he looked and he nodded. Figures. More figures and yeah, they were clear now and more and more moved up to join them. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred, and that must be an assault assembly point for a full company.

We watched and we waited and an hour after I’d first glimpsed them, they began to move in a V-shaped formation and the point of that V was heading towards us. I scanned outwards, looking for the ends of their line and I just about peed myself because I saw what Calder and I’d both missed and I reached out and tapped his arm and pointed out into the darkness and he saw them too.

Three, maybe three fifty yards out another company was moving slowly up the side of the valley, silently, but not swiftly, following each other in three long files and the points of those files were beyond our position. Beyond them was a third company and behind those two, a fourth and a fifth and when I scanned the other side, there were more long files on that side of the valley.

“Three battalions,” Calder whispered almost silently, and we were right in the center of their assault formation as they moved up towards the crest of the pass a thousand yards behind us. Young was up with us now and I hadn’t noticed, and I took the headset and mike and I knew what I had to do because that point was closing on us and thank god Calder was there with me.

“Reporting,” I whispered into the mike. “Three battalions of infantry in assault columns moving up the valley, one in valley mike, one on ridge alpha, one on ridge jericho. Over.”

“Roger. Three battalions of infantry. Designated Mike Alpha Jericho. Over.”

“Fire Mission One. Twelve rounds. Grid Mike Six. Over.” I didn’t have to remember Anti-Personnel. AP. It was all AP unless I called for something else.

Silence on the radio and my heart skipped a beat and I was about to repeat when my headset crackled. “Fire Mission One. Twelve rounds. Grid Mike Six.” A pause. A long pause. “On the way.”

Thunder from behind us, rolling thunder and then the ripping cloth scream of incoming artillery rounds and the bright flashes down valley as the shells exploded in a sudden storm and they were using proximity fuses and the company heading straight for us was scythed down but there were more of them and they were running forward now, running towards us.

“Fire Mission One. Grid Mike Six splash. Fire for effect. Over.”

That thunder again, on and on, those endless screaming wails, ripping cloth, the bright flashes, shock waves, another storm of steel and Calder was tapping my arm, pointing at the other side of the dried up stream bed.

“Fire Mission One. Left one hundred. Fire for effect. Over.” Calder was calling the instructions to me and I was on the radio and they were filtering out to the side and the artillery kept on coming in, endless thunder, the boots of some demented war god trampling over the dry red earth.

“Fire Mission One. Right two hundred. Fire for effect. Over.”

“Fire Mission. Grid Mike Six. Area fire. Over.” On and on and on and the rounds were coming down in salvos, tearing the attacking infantry coming up the center of the valley apart and Calder was looking at the valley sides.

“End of Fire Mission One. Over. Fire Mission Two. Twelve Rounds. Grid Jericho Four. Grid Jericho Four. Over,” and that controlled voice repeated my words back in a monotone and then “On the way,” and there was more thunder and the flashes lit up the valley and there were more of them. Far more. Hundreds. Thousands, the valley was full of them.

“Fire Mission Three. Grid Alpha Five. Grid Alpha Five. Fire for effect. Over. There’s thousands of them,” and behind us the artillery thundered and the fast thump thump thump of the mortars began, eight tubes firing twelve rounds per minute each. Sustained fire and there was no shortage of mortar bombs and they fell like rain and the flares on their parachutes lit the valley as if it was midday.

“On target,” I said, not worrying about keeping my voice down anymore, because the artillery drowned everything and I musta peed myself because I was wet and it sure wasn’t with excitement. “Repeat fire mission Grid Alpha Five,” and the artillery rained down.

Around me, along the edge of the ravine, the men were up and shooting, and Calder had his M-60 up and their infantry’d worked their way in closer and there were a lot of them and some of them were close and shooting back now, bullets whining overhead mostly and there was a thud and someone was down and I didn’t have time to look.

“Fire Mission Four. Grid Mike Six. Grid Mike Six. Willy Pete and AP mixed. Fire for Effect. Over.” The incoming screamed down, the ground in front of me erupted, bright flashes, hammering concussion that shook the ground, white flame, things flying through the air, burning shapes running and screaming. Howling and you could hear the screams even over the thunder of the bursting shells. Hammerblows, again and again and again and they were running, running from the flames.

“Fire Mission Four over.”

“Fire Mission Five. Grid Alpha Five. Grid Alpha Five. Area fire. Over,” and I was just about screaming now and the artillery came in, rolling thunder and I scanned out left and right and Jesus, they were well past us and moving up the sides of the valley towards the crest of the pass and if they got close to our lines, it’d all be over bar the screaming because they way outnumbered us.

“Fire Mission Six. Grid Jericho Seven. Twelve rounds.”

“Jericho Seven,” the voice repeated back, totally without any emotion. “On the way,” and a minute later the artillery shells began to fall on the left side of the valley, hammering the slopes below the ridgeline, a wargod’s hammer pounding the earth and the earth shook like a drum under that unholy percussion.

“On target,” I said, trying to burrow into the ground and call the shots at the same time. “Fire for effect.” And they did, endless thunder, flashes, explosive concussion, an endless pounding on and on that made it almost impossible to think but I had to think, I had to call the shots and I switched the artillery to the other side of the valley, pounding the advancing columns on that side.

“Ma’am.” Calder rapped my shoulder, pointed and I peed myself all over again, a hot flood and Jesus, I’d never been so scared in my life because there musta been hundreds of them running towards us, straight up the middle, hey-diddle-diddle, and I just about screamed into that mike.

“Fire Mission Seven. Grid Mike Five. Give it everything and don’t go under because we’re at Mike Four. Over.”

“Grid Mike Five,” the voice repeated. “On the way,” and down it came and Calder was firing short bursts out to one sided and the rest of the patrol were up and facing out, firing into the darkness and it wasn’t just single shots. They were going all out and I woulda peed myself again except I was all out of pee.

“They’re flanking us, ma’am,” Calder yelled.

“Fire Mission Seven. Right one hundred. Over.” And I was losing track of the different fire missions and artillery and mortar bombs were raining down everywhere and it really didn’t matter because the ratdogs were everywhere and down came the artillery and Jesus, they were filtering up the other side and the guys were firing away, grenades, grenade launchers, everything we had and bullets were smacking into the ground around me and Young choked and half sat up and collapsed and a hundred yards down valley the Ratdogs leapt to their feet and they were screaming and charging straight up towards us again, hundreds and hundreds of them and they knew where we were now and they were coming for us and they were gonna be on us.

“Fire Mission. Grid Mike Four. Danger Close. Grid Mike Four, Danger Close,” I screamed, rolling into the small ravine and pulling Calder with me, except he was pushing me down in front of him.

“Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?”

“Grid Mike Four,” I screamed. “Fire on our position. Grid Mike Four,” and thunder surrounded us, hammers beating the ground and it was like being inside a drum as some crazed musician beat the crap out of it and I was on the rocks at the bottom of our little ravine screaming and Calder was on top of me as waves of fire and a storm of steel swept over the top of our position and as soon as it stopped I was crawling back up again and Calder was crawling back up there with me and thank god the radio was still working and nothing had landed in the ravine with us.

“Fire Mission. Grid Jericho Nine. Fire for Effect. Over.”

“Jericho Nine. Over.” And the artillery thundered mercilessly and I burrowed into the ground and scanned for the next target and around me the rifles began to fire sporadically again and something hit Li and blew his head clean off in a spray of red that I saw for a second.

On and on and on and whenever we spotted the Ratdogs forming up I called in the fire missions and our artillery cut them apart, sliced them and diced them and an hour before dawn a stray shot blew Calder’s brains out and spattered them across my face and all I did was wipe them off with one arm and use him and Young for cover while I called in the next mission and called one of the guys to take over the M-60.

“On the way...”

“On the way...”

“On the way...”

On and on and on until the grey light of dawn began to lighten the night sky and around us, nothing moved. Nothing at all and even the artillery had fallen silent because there wasn’t anything moving to call it down on and then I heard the skirling wail of the bagpipes from above us and out of the darkness and the smoke they came, moving forward in sudden rushes, waves of soldiers with the green, white and blue patches of the Second Republic’s National Liberation Army on their shoulders and we were still alive and only Calder and Young and Li and Kagan had died and a couple of the others had minor ones.