The Last War: 355.
Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2023 4:51 pm
With thanks to Jotun.
*
D+22
*
1239 hours GMT. Dzerzhinsky, northern Baltic Sea.
On board Dzherzhinskiy, Captain Sidorov had just begun to relax a bit after seeing the Neustrahimy catch a torpedo clearly meant for his ship. One moment, he was looking at the situation plot in front of him, trying to come up with a plan that would not entail being stripped of command and getting a bullet to the head, then he blinked and found himself on the floor of the Operations Room, nursing one hell of a headache, and hearing shouts and a lot of loud murmuring and babbling by the Ops Room crew. A young officer knelt at his side; he had apparently tried to shake him from unconsciousness. He cursed, and then shouted, while clambering back onto his command chair.
“SILENCE! SILENCE, DAMMIT! Damage report. What the F*** happened here?”
The din died down almost immediately.
“Comrade Captain, we were hit by an anti-shipping torpedo twenty meters aft of the bow. The structural integrity of the hull was compromised to the degree that our movement sheared off the bow. We cannot make any forward movement without risking sinking ourselves. There are several dozen killed aft of where the explosion took place, and who knows how many missing in the bow that broke off.”
Indeed, the ship’s corpsmen and physicians were nearly overwhelmed with the casualties coming in. Surprisingly few had been wounded by the torpedo’s explosion itself, but rather by the short distance the large cruiser had been violently lifted out of the water. There were numerous contusions and cuts from being thrown into machinery and other equipment, but the worst was the mass of broken ankles, shins, knees, femurs, and hip joints. Two sailors had been killed by having their femur snap off and driven into their guts from the concussive force.
Captain Sidorov closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath and decided that enough was enough. The ship had comprehensively lost his battle worthiness and there was little sense in a glory ride into death. He internally gave a respectful nod to the NATO forces that had gutted the task force and drew in a breath to give the order to disengage, put Dzherzhinskiy under tow and make for home.
I guess the Baltic is a NATO lake now. The brass won’t be pleased. At all.
1242 hours GMT. West of Lüneburg, West Germany.
The commander of the 4th Guards Tank Army had taken an extreme exception to the pocket of American and British troops that lay across his line of advance. Not only were they directly engaging anything that came within range of them, but they were also calling down artillery and air strikes on his follow-up forces. If they were still there when he needed to send through soft-skin vehicles with supplies, it would be a massacre. They needed to be dealt with. Now.
The general had given the 81st Guards Motorised Rifle Regiment of the 90th Guards Tank Division the task of eliminating the pocket. The rest of the division was already busy trying to widen the southern part of the corridor, without much luck, so it seemed a perfect choice.
*
Under cover of artillery fire and smoke a battalion of BMP-2s, supported by two platoons of T-80s had made an approach to the eastern point of the egg-shaped perimeter of the pocket before the motor riflemen debussed. They charged forward, screaming battle-cries while firing their weapons. Unfortunately for them, the defenders had pulled back from their forward positions, so had escaped the artillery fire. The reoccupied them now and machine-gun and light cannon fire lashed the exposed motor-riflemen, cutting them to pieces. Artillery fire came next, causing further casualties and destroying, or disabling some of the BMPs. The T-80s closed in to provide support, which appeared to be going well until they started to run over anti-tank mines. The disabled tanks were picked off by M1A2s while the others retreated.
A similar attack on the southern part of the perimeter also ended in failure as the Soviet armoured vehicles were taken out by tank and ATGW fire before they could even get close enough to dismount their infantry. The Soviet regimental commander ordered that the pocket be pounded by artillery fire while he considered his options.
*
Colonel O’Connell tried not to let the sound of artillery fragments ‘pinging’ off the hull of his M2A3 distract him. He was reassured that the vehicle’s armour would protect him from all but a direct hit, not that he did not still occasionally jump when the Bradley rocked violently due to a near miss.
‘Any chance of someone coming to get us?’ He typed into the IVIS terminal. ‘Getting very hot here.’ He added before sending the message.
‘Sorry, not yet.’ Came the reply of his X.O, who was currently in charge of the balance of the 3rd ACR. ‘There’s major fighting going on at the moment. The enemy are trying to create a corridor from both ends. Think command is going to let them.’
O’Connell grunted before replying. In one way he understood the decision taken by those who were senior to him to allow the two Soviet tank armies to create a corridor. It would be a perfect opportunity to put both of them into a shooting gallery. Even if some of the enemy did make it out again, they would be seriously mauled. On the other hand, it left his scratch force trapped. An island in a red sea.
‘I understand, X.O. Keep me up to date. Out.’
“Any news, Colonel?” The Bradley’s gunner asked.
“We’re on our own for the moment, Smitty.” O’Connell replied. “They’re going to come get us, just not yet.”
The gunner shrugged.
“I guess it is what it is, Colonel.”
Which the Commanding Officer of the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment thought was the most thoughtful thing he had heard all day.
1245 hours GMT. SAS Manthatisi, the Baltic Sea.
Lieutenant Commander Mompati would have loved nothing more than reloading the torpedo tubes and go to town on the remnants of the formerly formidable Soviet task force. The weapons ratings were already busy refilling the quiver of Manthatisi, so to speak, but it was not to be.
“Captain, sonar. I can make out rotor noise. Assess Soviet Ka-27 helicopters, at least two. One has stopped, bearing and distance are stable.”
Ba-WAH! Manthatisi’s hull reverberated with the active sonar ping.
Active sonar. Somehow, the Soviets had managed to get at least one Pony/Dipper pair airborne and into action. They must have made an educated guess as to the origin of the torpedoes.
Accordingly, the Ka-27 carrying the ASW weapons changed course and headed directly for Manthatisi’s position.
“Right. Weaps, target Red Pony with IDAS. We give him the good news and then disengage. Our position will have been transmitted to every ASW asset still able to fly or fire.”
The door covering the no. seven torpedo tube opened quickly and loudly. After the weapon guidance chief had matched bearings, he gave the launch command to one of the IDAS missiles housed in the torpedo tube. He then transferred control authority to a junior NCO manning the console next to him.
“Pieter, the missile is all yours. Do us proud.”
The IDAS missile broke the surface, streaming a gossamer-thin optical wire behind it.
“Missile seeker head is online…bearing matches contact…target acquired…assuming direct control...initiating top-down attack.”
On the colour display, the petty officer saw a high-definition infrared picture of the ASW helicopter that was still heading for the submarine’s position as fast as it could.
The missile operator kept the aiming reticule squarely on the helicopter’s rotor head.
It was nearly time.
The helo’s crew had finally realized that they were being fired at by some kind of sub-launched anti-air missile and the aircraft began to pump out chaff and flares. It was to no avail. The missile’s warhead detonated a meter above the rotor head, completely destroying it and causing the rotor blades to fly off in all directions. The helicopter unceremoniously plummeted into the Baltic and began to sink almost at once.
“OOW and ChEng, Captain. Bring us below the upper thermocline, twenty degrees downward angle, eight knots. Course southwest.”
After the order had been acknowledged, Mompati once gain spoke into the MC1.
“All hands, this is the captain. We just bagged ourselves a destroyer, a submarine, and a frigate, not to forget an ASW helicopter. We also damaged a freaking nuclear battlecruiser. Not bad at all for a first combat cruise. I am proud to serve with each and every one of you. That is all.”
1251 hours GMT. Kotzebue, Alaska.
‘The immediate lesson from the Nome raid was that there were a lot of remote communities in northwest Alaska that were vulnerable to a “tip-and-run” style raid. Where the Soviets could land troops, raise their flag, sabotage infrastructure and retreat before US defenders could react. US Army Alaska dug into its reserves and despatched a number of company sized guard forces to protect the most vulnerable communities. Thankfully, two brigades of the 34th Infantry Division were now active in the state, and it fell on those Guardsmen from the Lower 48 to pick up this mission.’ – Extract from ‘Bringing the War Home – Soviet Attacks on North America’ – by General Mark Platt, USA (retired), (New York 2014).
*
The first of the pair of Alaska Airlines 737s had begun its final approach to Ralph Wien Memorial Airport. The two airliners were carrying Guardsmen from Company B, 1st Battalion, 168th Infantry Regiment, Iowa Army National Guard. At that time of year, the early morning temperatures hovered between -4 degrees Celsius and 0, rising to around 4 degrees C once the Sun was up. So, while it was cold, it was not the freezing temperatures experienced in the dead of winter. Still, as the Iowan Guardsmen disembarked from the 737s it felt distinctively cold.
Kotzebue was home to the 3-297th Infantry Regiment (Scout), and it was these men who met the incomers and directed them to their accommodation. As in Nome, only the headquarters and headquarters platoon, plus two scout platoons were currently based in the city. The rest of the battalion was spread out over a huge area, with company and platoon detachments based in a number of small communities. The only other military forces in Kotzebue were a detachment from the Coast Guard, who manned a pair of HH-60J Jayhawks. The ‘Coasties’ also jointly crewed a pair of small patrol boats with the Alaskan Naval Militia.
Once the two 737s had departed the airport, a third example, a 737F arrived. It was carrying the company’s reserve ammunition, heavier equipment, along with four FIM-92 Stinger launchers, which would be crewed by a detachment from the 1-188th Air Defense Regiment.
Two hours after the Iowan Guardsmen had arrived, the first of them were sent out to man defensive positions that would protect Kotzebue. The balance of the company was held as a mobile reserve. Now that the infantry company was in place, the commander of the 3-297th was able to despatch one of the two scout platoons to reinforce those on patrol. The two USCG Jayhawks being used to ferry the scouts to where they were needed.
*
Some distance to the southwest Major Azarov and three other survivors from the Nome raid had abandoned their Observation Post from where they had been surveilling the airport. Their emergency rations were running low, and they had headed into the interior to search for food – they had been briefed that there were emergency food caches in a variety of locations in the region around Nome. The map that Azarov had been provided with showed two such caches, apparently in survival huts which were now only a few hours march away.
The two-man scout/sniper team from the Alaskan Scouts was still discretely following the quartet of Spetsnaz. The Soviet Special Forces may have thought that they were being covert, but to the native Alaskans it was like following a heard of marauding elephants.
Finally, Azarov and his men reached the nearest of the survival huts. They could not help but notice that some smoke was coming from the hut’s chimney, suggesting that someone was in residence.
“No shooting, unless it is absolutely necessary, Comrades. Whoever is in the hut is probably a civilian.”
The two hunters in the hut were asleep when the Spetsnaz burst in. One of them managed to make a lunge for his Remington rifle, which got him butt-stroked for his trouble.
“Tie them up and gag them.” Azarov told his men. “You try anything, and we will kill you.” He growled to the two hunters.”
*
The HH-60J Jayhawk was returning to base after dropping off a scout team. As was usual, it made a sweep of the survival huts, in case there was anyone who needed help. As the helicopter passed over one hut, the crew caught sight of a distress flare shooting up into the air. The Jayhawk touch down as close as it could to the hut, one of the crewmen, as trained EMT jumped down and jogged towards the man holding the flare gun.
“How can we help?” He yelled over the roar of the Jayhawk’s engines.
The man indicated that he could not hear and beckoned him closer. The ‘Coastie’ stepped forward and immediately felt something sharp in his side.
“What the hell?”
*
Azarov lowered the American Coastguard to the ground once he had withdrawn his knife. He would only have a few seconds to deal with the other crewman in the rear of the helicopter before he was able to warn the pilots. He drew his GSh-18 pistol and fired two rounds at the crewman. At least one round found its target, as the man toppled out of the aircraft. The Major was aboard the helicopter, his gun pointed at the pilot’s head moments later.
“You will do what I say, or you will die.”
“Okay, bud. You got it.” The shocked pilot replied.
Azarov looked across at the co-pilot, catching his eye.
“If you do not stop trying to reach for your gun, I will shoot your comrade. I only need one of you to fly the helicopter.”
The co-pilot put his hands up and nodded his compliance.
Azarov was surprised to learn from one of his men that the two crewmen were still alive. He ordered that they be placed in the survival hut and that the bindings of the hunters be loosened.
As Azarov’s men were jogging to the helicopter one of them suddenly dropped. The Major heard a sharp ‘crack’ half a second later. He realised that somebody was shooting at them.
“Move it!” He yelled to the survivors.
As the last man jumped into the rear cabin, Azarov yelled to the pilot to take off.
“Where to?” The pilot asked once airborne.
“Head north, then follow the coast. I will tell you when to land.” Azarov replied.
“Okay, buddy, you’re the boss. Just to let you know, though, we’ve only got just over an hour of fuel left. We can’t get you to the other side of the Bering Strait.”
“Just worry about flying. I’ll worry about where will land.” Azarov snapped.
*
The two Alaskan Scouts cursed. One of them had managed to get a clear shot, but the rest of the Spetsnaz had been in front of the Coast Guard helicopter. Making a shot too risky. They had already radioed in and now sent a new message to report the helicopter being hijacked and requested medevac to their location.
1258 hours. Outside Kirchgellersen, West Germany.
2nd Lieutenant Thomas ‘Tom’ Morris, the Officer Commanding 5 Platoon, B Company, 1st Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, felt the Chinook HC.2A bank sharply as it approached its destination. His platoon was one of a number drawn from the NORTHAG Airmobile Division that were being shuttled by helicopter to ambush positions on either flank of the Soviet corridor.
On this occasion, as Morris’ platoon was effectively serving as escort to two sections from B Company’s anti-tank platoon and its Javelin missiles, the larger Chinook was being used. Rather than the smaller Lynx AH.9 that was used for most of 24th Airmobile Brigade’s operations.
“Two minutes, Sir! Get ready!” The Chinook’s senior aircrewman yelled into Morris’ ear.
He nodded, acknowledging the warning. Morris looked at the aircrewmen for a second before she departed to man the starboard M134 ‘Minigun’. She was only a few years older than him, yet she looked so grown-up and mature.
*
Sergeant Liz McConaughy had noticed that the subaltern had held her gaze for a second longer than needed. How old was he? She wondered. Twenty, twenty-one? Probably not long out of Sandhurst. He still looked about sixteen. Not that McConaughy, at twenty-four had a great many years on him. She put the young lieutenant out of her mind and took hold of the spade grips of starboard M134, the weapon being known as the ‘crowd pleaser’ within the Chinook community. However, she knew if she needed to fire the weapon on landing, the mission was already a failure.
*
Lieutenant Morris did not need his binoculars to see the Soviet armoured vehicles advancing west. As far as he could see there were tanks, BMPs and a variety of other AFVs. His platoon had found some good positions at the edge of a forest, which gave them good cover and concealment. The two ATGW teams had split up, setting up at either end of the platoon’s positions.
“Fire when ready!” Morris called out.
Barely had he finished when he heard the ‘whooshed’ of the first and then second missile being fired. Even as Morris watched the two missiles head down-range the Javelin crews were loading a second missile, had picked a new target and fired. Once these two were on their way the soldiers displaced from their position, moved to another one and re-engaged.
“Looks like we’ve got company, Boss.” Morris’ radio headset crackled. “Couple of tanks and three BMPs crossing the road by the end of the treeline. Over.”
“Got them. Hold fire until they’re close.” Morris replied, spotting the approaching T-80s and BMP-2s.
Morris was never gladder that most modern Soviet armoured vehicles lacked thermal sights. Their British counterparts would have already spotted the platoon. As it was, the tanks did not hesitate to open fire on where they thought their tormentors were. The 125mm shells exploding uncomfortably close to the platoon’s positions. As they closed, the BMPs added their cannons to the fire.
“NOW! NOW! Open fire!”
The two Javelin teams fired, targeting the tanks, while several of Morris’ men armed with LAW80s joined in. Shooting at the BMPs. The two tanks were rapidly knocked out, while the two BMPs, struck by multiple LAW80s, did not last much longer.
“Those were our last two missiles, Boss.” The Corporal who commanded the two ATGW teams reported.
“Roger that.
“It’s time to go, move out. Head to the LZ.”
The platoon picked up their equipment and began to jog to the northwest, heading for the Landing Zone on the other side of the forest, just over a mile and a half away. Mere minutes after they had left, Soviet artillery started to pound the southern edge of the forest, shells exploding in the treetops. Sending deadly metal and wooden fragments in all directions.
The British infantrymen had been lucky. This time.
1301 hours GMT. South of Ar Rawdatayn, northern Kuwait.
Now that the 4th (US) Armored Division was moving rapidly north up the Saudi coastal road to Kuwait, CINCENTCOM, General Abazid, had decided to start preliminary operations in support of the planned counter-offensive. His decision was also influenced by the fact that the Peninsular Shield Force had begun to move north into Kuwait, leading to the Kuwaitis to release the Royal Guard Brigade from reserve. [1]
The initial plan was that X Corps would mount diversionary attacks in the west, while in the east Kuwaiti Commando Marine Units and the US Marine Corps’ 24th Regimental Landing Team (+) conducted a landing to retake Bubiyan Island. Operations would then be paused to allow the 4th Armored Division to move into position.
*
Major General Harold Glasgow lowered his binoculars before carefully climbing down from the turret of the ASLAV he had been standing on. The vehicle belonged to 2nd Cavalry Regiment, which was his division’s reconnaissance regiment.
“They don’t have a clue about what’s about to hit them.” Glasgow commented.
“The silly b*ggers are all asleep, Sir.” The Lieutenant Colonel who commanded the regiment replied.
“Wish we had the Leathernecks with us.” Glasgow said. “Not sure if attaching those two Kuwaiti Chieftain battalions to the Kiwis make up for losing them. Still, I’m sure we’ll do well with what we have.
“Thank you, Colonel. I’ll not disturb you anymore. Good luck.”
A British Gazelle AH.1 was waiting to take Glasgow back to his headquarters. He could have used an S-70 from A Squadron, but felt that they had more important things to do than act as taxis for him. It also meant that it took away the temptation to take several staff members with him.
Once the diminutive helicopter was airborne, the general took a look at his watch. He should be back at H.Q well before ‘kick-off’.
*
Like Major General Glasgow a short time ago, Major Harry Jones checked his watch.
“Any time…” He began to say, before being interrupted by the ‘whoosh’ of rockets passing overhead.
The rockets, fired by a battery equipped with the M270 exploded off in the distance. They were soon joined by tube artillery. Meanwhile, fast jets attacked Iraqi artillery units, reserves and supply units.
At the appointed time, ground units began their advance, 1 Royal Irish Regiment Battle Group leading for 3rd (UK) Armoured Brigade. It was not long before Major Jones and the Challenger 2s of B Squadron, 17th/21st Lancers encountered Iraqi troops. The hurricane of artillery fire, followed by attacks from Australian AH-1V Taipans had left them dazed. Most of their surviving armoured vehicles had been abandoned, their crews were either running away north, or sitting on the desert floor, their hands in the air. The Challengers engaged and destroyed any Iraqi tanks that showed signs of life, while the infantry following in their Warriors did not bother to debus, simply directing the Iraqis south.
*
It was a well-known dictum that ‘no plan survives contact with the enemy’, and it was certainly true in this case. X Corps had torn a huge hole in Iraqi lines, much bigger than expected, sending their enemy reeling back towards the border. General Abazid agreed with the corps commander that it now made no sense to stick to the planned limited objectives. Instead, X Corps and the Kuwaiti Army would pursue as far as the border.
While these events were playing out, the 24th Regimental Landing Team (+), plus Kuwaiti Marine Commandos landed on Bubiyan Island. The 15th MEU and the Kuwaitis conducted what was a true amphibious operation on the southeast of the island. While the balance of the 24th RLT carried out what was more of a river crossing from the mainland. It became more of an administrative landing, as a few salvos from USS New Jersey, along with accurate fire from marine artillery, had very quickly persuaded the Iraqi garrison to surrender. [2]
Once new bridges to the island were completed, the Kuwaitis moved the 45th Reserve Armoured Brigade north to provide the core of a new garrison. The fact that the brigade used M-84 tanks and BMP-2s was felt to be less of an issue if it was used to garrison Bubiyan Island.
The commander of the 4th Armored Division was frustrated by the fact that the main event had started without him and his division. However, he and they would just have to catch up as best as they could.
It would not just be the Allies who would be caught unawares by their success, however. Another nation would be stung into action.
***
[1] Order of Battle Peninsular Shield Force:
H.Q PSF
- 5th Combined Arms Battalion (SANG): LAV
- 6th Combined Arms Battalion (SANG): LAV
- Battery, Artillery Battalion (Kuwait): MLRS
1st Brigade
- Armored Battalion Battle Group (Bahrain)
- Armored Battalion: M60A3
-- Company, Mechanized Infantry Battalion: YPR-765
-- Artillery Battery: M109A5
--- Troop, Artillery Battery: MLRS
- Mechanized Infantry Battalion Battle Group (Bahrain)
- Mechanized Infantry Battalion (-): YPR-765
-- Company, Armored Battalion: M60A3
-- Artillery Battery: M109A5
- Tank Battalion Battle Group (Qatar)
-- Tank Battalion Battle Group (-): AMX-30
-- 2x Company, Mechanized Infantry Battalion: AMX-10P
-- Company, Anti-Tank Battalion: VAB HOT
-- Battery, Artillery Battalion: AMX F3
-- Platoon, Scout Company: AMX-10RC
2nd Brigade
- Mechanised Regiment Battle Group (Oman)
- Mechanised Regiment (Oman) (-): Desert Warrior
-- Squadron, Medium Reconnaissance Regiment (-): FV101 Scorpion
-- Artillery Battery: AS-90D
-- Engineer Troop: FV105 Spartan
- Mechanized Infantry Battalion Battle Group (Qatar)
-- Company, Tank Battalion: AMX-30
-- Company, Anti-Tank Battalion: VAB HOT
-- Battery, Artillery Battalion: AMX F3
-- Platoon, Scout Company: AMX-10RC
- Armored Battalion Battle Group (UAE)
-- Armored Battalion: LeClerc
-- 2x Company, Mechanized Infantry Battalion: Marder 2
-- 2x Battery, Artillery Battalion: PzH 2000
[2] Order of Battle for the landing on Bubiyan Island:
24th Regimental Landing Team (+) - USMCR -
- 1/24 Marines
- 2/24 Marines
- 3/24 Marines
- 3/14 Marines (-): M198
-- J Btry, 4/14th Marines: M109A6
-- P Btry, 5/14th Marines: M142 HIMARS
- B Co./4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion: LAV-25
- D Co./4th Light Armored Transport Battalion: LAV-P
- A Co./5th Light Armored Transport Battalion: LAV-P
- D Co./ 8th Tank Battalion: M1A1
- C Co./4th Reconnaissance Battalion
- C Co./4th Combat Engineer Battalion
15th Marine Expeditionary Unit (+)
- 2/1 Marines
- Platoon/C Co./1 LAR: LAV-25, LAV-AT
- Platoon/D Co./1 Tank Battalion: M1A1
- Platoon/A Co./3rd AAB: AAVP-7A1
- F Btry/2/11 Marines: M777
- Platoon/1st Force Reconnaissance Company:
- Platoon/C Co./1st Combat Engineer Battalion
- Combat Logistics Battalion 15
- Kuwaiti Marine Commando
*
D+22
*
1239 hours GMT. Dzerzhinsky, northern Baltic Sea.
On board Dzherzhinskiy, Captain Sidorov had just begun to relax a bit after seeing the Neustrahimy catch a torpedo clearly meant for his ship. One moment, he was looking at the situation plot in front of him, trying to come up with a plan that would not entail being stripped of command and getting a bullet to the head, then he blinked and found himself on the floor of the Operations Room, nursing one hell of a headache, and hearing shouts and a lot of loud murmuring and babbling by the Ops Room crew. A young officer knelt at his side; he had apparently tried to shake him from unconsciousness. He cursed, and then shouted, while clambering back onto his command chair.
“SILENCE! SILENCE, DAMMIT! Damage report. What the F*** happened here?”
The din died down almost immediately.
“Comrade Captain, we were hit by an anti-shipping torpedo twenty meters aft of the bow. The structural integrity of the hull was compromised to the degree that our movement sheared off the bow. We cannot make any forward movement without risking sinking ourselves. There are several dozen killed aft of where the explosion took place, and who knows how many missing in the bow that broke off.”
Indeed, the ship’s corpsmen and physicians were nearly overwhelmed with the casualties coming in. Surprisingly few had been wounded by the torpedo’s explosion itself, but rather by the short distance the large cruiser had been violently lifted out of the water. There were numerous contusions and cuts from being thrown into machinery and other equipment, but the worst was the mass of broken ankles, shins, knees, femurs, and hip joints. Two sailors had been killed by having their femur snap off and driven into their guts from the concussive force.
Captain Sidorov closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath and decided that enough was enough. The ship had comprehensively lost his battle worthiness and there was little sense in a glory ride into death. He internally gave a respectful nod to the NATO forces that had gutted the task force and drew in a breath to give the order to disengage, put Dzherzhinskiy under tow and make for home.
I guess the Baltic is a NATO lake now. The brass won’t be pleased. At all.
1242 hours GMT. West of Lüneburg, West Germany.
The commander of the 4th Guards Tank Army had taken an extreme exception to the pocket of American and British troops that lay across his line of advance. Not only were they directly engaging anything that came within range of them, but they were also calling down artillery and air strikes on his follow-up forces. If they were still there when he needed to send through soft-skin vehicles with supplies, it would be a massacre. They needed to be dealt with. Now.
The general had given the 81st Guards Motorised Rifle Regiment of the 90th Guards Tank Division the task of eliminating the pocket. The rest of the division was already busy trying to widen the southern part of the corridor, without much luck, so it seemed a perfect choice.
*
Under cover of artillery fire and smoke a battalion of BMP-2s, supported by two platoons of T-80s had made an approach to the eastern point of the egg-shaped perimeter of the pocket before the motor riflemen debussed. They charged forward, screaming battle-cries while firing their weapons. Unfortunately for them, the defenders had pulled back from their forward positions, so had escaped the artillery fire. The reoccupied them now and machine-gun and light cannon fire lashed the exposed motor-riflemen, cutting them to pieces. Artillery fire came next, causing further casualties and destroying, or disabling some of the BMPs. The T-80s closed in to provide support, which appeared to be going well until they started to run over anti-tank mines. The disabled tanks were picked off by M1A2s while the others retreated.
A similar attack on the southern part of the perimeter also ended in failure as the Soviet armoured vehicles were taken out by tank and ATGW fire before they could even get close enough to dismount their infantry. The Soviet regimental commander ordered that the pocket be pounded by artillery fire while he considered his options.
*
Colonel O’Connell tried not to let the sound of artillery fragments ‘pinging’ off the hull of his M2A3 distract him. He was reassured that the vehicle’s armour would protect him from all but a direct hit, not that he did not still occasionally jump when the Bradley rocked violently due to a near miss.
‘Any chance of someone coming to get us?’ He typed into the IVIS terminal. ‘Getting very hot here.’ He added before sending the message.
‘Sorry, not yet.’ Came the reply of his X.O, who was currently in charge of the balance of the 3rd ACR. ‘There’s major fighting going on at the moment. The enemy are trying to create a corridor from both ends. Think command is going to let them.’
O’Connell grunted before replying. In one way he understood the decision taken by those who were senior to him to allow the two Soviet tank armies to create a corridor. It would be a perfect opportunity to put both of them into a shooting gallery. Even if some of the enemy did make it out again, they would be seriously mauled. On the other hand, it left his scratch force trapped. An island in a red sea.
‘I understand, X.O. Keep me up to date. Out.’
“Any news, Colonel?” The Bradley’s gunner asked.
“We’re on our own for the moment, Smitty.” O’Connell replied. “They’re going to come get us, just not yet.”
The gunner shrugged.
“I guess it is what it is, Colonel.”
Which the Commanding Officer of the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment thought was the most thoughtful thing he had heard all day.
1245 hours GMT. SAS Manthatisi, the Baltic Sea.
Lieutenant Commander Mompati would have loved nothing more than reloading the torpedo tubes and go to town on the remnants of the formerly formidable Soviet task force. The weapons ratings were already busy refilling the quiver of Manthatisi, so to speak, but it was not to be.
“Captain, sonar. I can make out rotor noise. Assess Soviet Ka-27 helicopters, at least two. One has stopped, bearing and distance are stable.”
Ba-WAH! Manthatisi’s hull reverberated with the active sonar ping.
Active sonar. Somehow, the Soviets had managed to get at least one Pony/Dipper pair airborne and into action. They must have made an educated guess as to the origin of the torpedoes.
Accordingly, the Ka-27 carrying the ASW weapons changed course and headed directly for Manthatisi’s position.
“Right. Weaps, target Red Pony with IDAS. We give him the good news and then disengage. Our position will have been transmitted to every ASW asset still able to fly or fire.”
The door covering the no. seven torpedo tube opened quickly and loudly. After the weapon guidance chief had matched bearings, he gave the launch command to one of the IDAS missiles housed in the torpedo tube. He then transferred control authority to a junior NCO manning the console next to him.
“Pieter, the missile is all yours. Do us proud.”
The IDAS missile broke the surface, streaming a gossamer-thin optical wire behind it.
“Missile seeker head is online…bearing matches contact…target acquired…assuming direct control...initiating top-down attack.”
On the colour display, the petty officer saw a high-definition infrared picture of the ASW helicopter that was still heading for the submarine’s position as fast as it could.
The missile operator kept the aiming reticule squarely on the helicopter’s rotor head.
It was nearly time.
The helo’s crew had finally realized that they were being fired at by some kind of sub-launched anti-air missile and the aircraft began to pump out chaff and flares. It was to no avail. The missile’s warhead detonated a meter above the rotor head, completely destroying it and causing the rotor blades to fly off in all directions. The helicopter unceremoniously plummeted into the Baltic and began to sink almost at once.
“OOW and ChEng, Captain. Bring us below the upper thermocline, twenty degrees downward angle, eight knots. Course southwest.”
After the order had been acknowledged, Mompati once gain spoke into the MC1.
“All hands, this is the captain. We just bagged ourselves a destroyer, a submarine, and a frigate, not to forget an ASW helicopter. We also damaged a freaking nuclear battlecruiser. Not bad at all for a first combat cruise. I am proud to serve with each and every one of you. That is all.”
1251 hours GMT. Kotzebue, Alaska.
‘The immediate lesson from the Nome raid was that there were a lot of remote communities in northwest Alaska that were vulnerable to a “tip-and-run” style raid. Where the Soviets could land troops, raise their flag, sabotage infrastructure and retreat before US defenders could react. US Army Alaska dug into its reserves and despatched a number of company sized guard forces to protect the most vulnerable communities. Thankfully, two brigades of the 34th Infantry Division were now active in the state, and it fell on those Guardsmen from the Lower 48 to pick up this mission.’ – Extract from ‘Bringing the War Home – Soviet Attacks on North America’ – by General Mark Platt, USA (retired), (New York 2014).
*
The first of the pair of Alaska Airlines 737s had begun its final approach to Ralph Wien Memorial Airport. The two airliners were carrying Guardsmen from Company B, 1st Battalion, 168th Infantry Regiment, Iowa Army National Guard. At that time of year, the early morning temperatures hovered between -4 degrees Celsius and 0, rising to around 4 degrees C once the Sun was up. So, while it was cold, it was not the freezing temperatures experienced in the dead of winter. Still, as the Iowan Guardsmen disembarked from the 737s it felt distinctively cold.
Kotzebue was home to the 3-297th Infantry Regiment (Scout), and it was these men who met the incomers and directed them to their accommodation. As in Nome, only the headquarters and headquarters platoon, plus two scout platoons were currently based in the city. The rest of the battalion was spread out over a huge area, with company and platoon detachments based in a number of small communities. The only other military forces in Kotzebue were a detachment from the Coast Guard, who manned a pair of HH-60J Jayhawks. The ‘Coasties’ also jointly crewed a pair of small patrol boats with the Alaskan Naval Militia.
Once the two 737s had departed the airport, a third example, a 737F arrived. It was carrying the company’s reserve ammunition, heavier equipment, along with four FIM-92 Stinger launchers, which would be crewed by a detachment from the 1-188th Air Defense Regiment.
Two hours after the Iowan Guardsmen had arrived, the first of them were sent out to man defensive positions that would protect Kotzebue. The balance of the company was held as a mobile reserve. Now that the infantry company was in place, the commander of the 3-297th was able to despatch one of the two scout platoons to reinforce those on patrol. The two USCG Jayhawks being used to ferry the scouts to where they were needed.
*
Some distance to the southwest Major Azarov and three other survivors from the Nome raid had abandoned their Observation Post from where they had been surveilling the airport. Their emergency rations were running low, and they had headed into the interior to search for food – they had been briefed that there were emergency food caches in a variety of locations in the region around Nome. The map that Azarov had been provided with showed two such caches, apparently in survival huts which were now only a few hours march away.
The two-man scout/sniper team from the Alaskan Scouts was still discretely following the quartet of Spetsnaz. The Soviet Special Forces may have thought that they were being covert, but to the native Alaskans it was like following a heard of marauding elephants.
Finally, Azarov and his men reached the nearest of the survival huts. They could not help but notice that some smoke was coming from the hut’s chimney, suggesting that someone was in residence.
“No shooting, unless it is absolutely necessary, Comrades. Whoever is in the hut is probably a civilian.”
The two hunters in the hut were asleep when the Spetsnaz burst in. One of them managed to make a lunge for his Remington rifle, which got him butt-stroked for his trouble.
“Tie them up and gag them.” Azarov told his men. “You try anything, and we will kill you.” He growled to the two hunters.”
*
The HH-60J Jayhawk was returning to base after dropping off a scout team. As was usual, it made a sweep of the survival huts, in case there was anyone who needed help. As the helicopter passed over one hut, the crew caught sight of a distress flare shooting up into the air. The Jayhawk touch down as close as it could to the hut, one of the crewmen, as trained EMT jumped down and jogged towards the man holding the flare gun.
“How can we help?” He yelled over the roar of the Jayhawk’s engines.
The man indicated that he could not hear and beckoned him closer. The ‘Coastie’ stepped forward and immediately felt something sharp in his side.
“What the hell?”
*
Azarov lowered the American Coastguard to the ground once he had withdrawn his knife. He would only have a few seconds to deal with the other crewman in the rear of the helicopter before he was able to warn the pilots. He drew his GSh-18 pistol and fired two rounds at the crewman. At least one round found its target, as the man toppled out of the aircraft. The Major was aboard the helicopter, his gun pointed at the pilot’s head moments later.
“You will do what I say, or you will die.”
“Okay, bud. You got it.” The shocked pilot replied.
Azarov looked across at the co-pilot, catching his eye.
“If you do not stop trying to reach for your gun, I will shoot your comrade. I only need one of you to fly the helicopter.”
The co-pilot put his hands up and nodded his compliance.
Azarov was surprised to learn from one of his men that the two crewmen were still alive. He ordered that they be placed in the survival hut and that the bindings of the hunters be loosened.
As Azarov’s men were jogging to the helicopter one of them suddenly dropped. The Major heard a sharp ‘crack’ half a second later. He realised that somebody was shooting at them.
“Move it!” He yelled to the survivors.
As the last man jumped into the rear cabin, Azarov yelled to the pilot to take off.
“Where to?” The pilot asked once airborne.
“Head north, then follow the coast. I will tell you when to land.” Azarov replied.
“Okay, buddy, you’re the boss. Just to let you know, though, we’ve only got just over an hour of fuel left. We can’t get you to the other side of the Bering Strait.”
“Just worry about flying. I’ll worry about where will land.” Azarov snapped.
*
The two Alaskan Scouts cursed. One of them had managed to get a clear shot, but the rest of the Spetsnaz had been in front of the Coast Guard helicopter. Making a shot too risky. They had already radioed in and now sent a new message to report the helicopter being hijacked and requested medevac to their location.
1258 hours. Outside Kirchgellersen, West Germany.
2nd Lieutenant Thomas ‘Tom’ Morris, the Officer Commanding 5 Platoon, B Company, 1st Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, felt the Chinook HC.2A bank sharply as it approached its destination. His platoon was one of a number drawn from the NORTHAG Airmobile Division that were being shuttled by helicopter to ambush positions on either flank of the Soviet corridor.
On this occasion, as Morris’ platoon was effectively serving as escort to two sections from B Company’s anti-tank platoon and its Javelin missiles, the larger Chinook was being used. Rather than the smaller Lynx AH.9 that was used for most of 24th Airmobile Brigade’s operations.
“Two minutes, Sir! Get ready!” The Chinook’s senior aircrewman yelled into Morris’ ear.
He nodded, acknowledging the warning. Morris looked at the aircrewmen for a second before she departed to man the starboard M134 ‘Minigun’. She was only a few years older than him, yet she looked so grown-up and mature.
*
Sergeant Liz McConaughy had noticed that the subaltern had held her gaze for a second longer than needed. How old was he? She wondered. Twenty, twenty-one? Probably not long out of Sandhurst. He still looked about sixteen. Not that McConaughy, at twenty-four had a great many years on him. She put the young lieutenant out of her mind and took hold of the spade grips of starboard M134, the weapon being known as the ‘crowd pleaser’ within the Chinook community. However, she knew if she needed to fire the weapon on landing, the mission was already a failure.
*
Lieutenant Morris did not need his binoculars to see the Soviet armoured vehicles advancing west. As far as he could see there were tanks, BMPs and a variety of other AFVs. His platoon had found some good positions at the edge of a forest, which gave them good cover and concealment. The two ATGW teams had split up, setting up at either end of the platoon’s positions.
“Fire when ready!” Morris called out.
Barely had he finished when he heard the ‘whooshed’ of the first and then second missile being fired. Even as Morris watched the two missiles head down-range the Javelin crews were loading a second missile, had picked a new target and fired. Once these two were on their way the soldiers displaced from their position, moved to another one and re-engaged.
“Looks like we’ve got company, Boss.” Morris’ radio headset crackled. “Couple of tanks and three BMPs crossing the road by the end of the treeline. Over.”
“Got them. Hold fire until they’re close.” Morris replied, spotting the approaching T-80s and BMP-2s.
Morris was never gladder that most modern Soviet armoured vehicles lacked thermal sights. Their British counterparts would have already spotted the platoon. As it was, the tanks did not hesitate to open fire on where they thought their tormentors were. The 125mm shells exploding uncomfortably close to the platoon’s positions. As they closed, the BMPs added their cannons to the fire.
“NOW! NOW! Open fire!”
The two Javelin teams fired, targeting the tanks, while several of Morris’ men armed with LAW80s joined in. Shooting at the BMPs. The two tanks were rapidly knocked out, while the two BMPs, struck by multiple LAW80s, did not last much longer.
“Those were our last two missiles, Boss.” The Corporal who commanded the two ATGW teams reported.
“Roger that.
“It’s time to go, move out. Head to the LZ.”
The platoon picked up their equipment and began to jog to the northwest, heading for the Landing Zone on the other side of the forest, just over a mile and a half away. Mere minutes after they had left, Soviet artillery started to pound the southern edge of the forest, shells exploding in the treetops. Sending deadly metal and wooden fragments in all directions.
The British infantrymen had been lucky. This time.
1301 hours GMT. South of Ar Rawdatayn, northern Kuwait.
Now that the 4th (US) Armored Division was moving rapidly north up the Saudi coastal road to Kuwait, CINCENTCOM, General Abazid, had decided to start preliminary operations in support of the planned counter-offensive. His decision was also influenced by the fact that the Peninsular Shield Force had begun to move north into Kuwait, leading to the Kuwaitis to release the Royal Guard Brigade from reserve. [1]
The initial plan was that X Corps would mount diversionary attacks in the west, while in the east Kuwaiti Commando Marine Units and the US Marine Corps’ 24th Regimental Landing Team (+) conducted a landing to retake Bubiyan Island. Operations would then be paused to allow the 4th Armored Division to move into position.
*
Major General Harold Glasgow lowered his binoculars before carefully climbing down from the turret of the ASLAV he had been standing on. The vehicle belonged to 2nd Cavalry Regiment, which was his division’s reconnaissance regiment.
“They don’t have a clue about what’s about to hit them.” Glasgow commented.
“The silly b*ggers are all asleep, Sir.” The Lieutenant Colonel who commanded the regiment replied.
“Wish we had the Leathernecks with us.” Glasgow said. “Not sure if attaching those two Kuwaiti Chieftain battalions to the Kiwis make up for losing them. Still, I’m sure we’ll do well with what we have.
“Thank you, Colonel. I’ll not disturb you anymore. Good luck.”
A British Gazelle AH.1 was waiting to take Glasgow back to his headquarters. He could have used an S-70 from A Squadron, but felt that they had more important things to do than act as taxis for him. It also meant that it took away the temptation to take several staff members with him.
Once the diminutive helicopter was airborne, the general took a look at his watch. He should be back at H.Q well before ‘kick-off’.
*
Like Major General Glasgow a short time ago, Major Harry Jones checked his watch.
“Any time…” He began to say, before being interrupted by the ‘whoosh’ of rockets passing overhead.
The rockets, fired by a battery equipped with the M270 exploded off in the distance. They were soon joined by tube artillery. Meanwhile, fast jets attacked Iraqi artillery units, reserves and supply units.
At the appointed time, ground units began their advance, 1 Royal Irish Regiment Battle Group leading for 3rd (UK) Armoured Brigade. It was not long before Major Jones and the Challenger 2s of B Squadron, 17th/21st Lancers encountered Iraqi troops. The hurricane of artillery fire, followed by attacks from Australian AH-1V Taipans had left them dazed. Most of their surviving armoured vehicles had been abandoned, their crews were either running away north, or sitting on the desert floor, their hands in the air. The Challengers engaged and destroyed any Iraqi tanks that showed signs of life, while the infantry following in their Warriors did not bother to debus, simply directing the Iraqis south.
*
It was a well-known dictum that ‘no plan survives contact with the enemy’, and it was certainly true in this case. X Corps had torn a huge hole in Iraqi lines, much bigger than expected, sending their enemy reeling back towards the border. General Abazid agreed with the corps commander that it now made no sense to stick to the planned limited objectives. Instead, X Corps and the Kuwaiti Army would pursue as far as the border.
While these events were playing out, the 24th Regimental Landing Team (+), plus Kuwaiti Marine Commandos landed on Bubiyan Island. The 15th MEU and the Kuwaitis conducted what was a true amphibious operation on the southeast of the island. While the balance of the 24th RLT carried out what was more of a river crossing from the mainland. It became more of an administrative landing, as a few salvos from USS New Jersey, along with accurate fire from marine artillery, had very quickly persuaded the Iraqi garrison to surrender. [2]
Once new bridges to the island were completed, the Kuwaitis moved the 45th Reserve Armoured Brigade north to provide the core of a new garrison. The fact that the brigade used M-84 tanks and BMP-2s was felt to be less of an issue if it was used to garrison Bubiyan Island.
The commander of the 4th Armored Division was frustrated by the fact that the main event had started without him and his division. However, he and they would just have to catch up as best as they could.
It would not just be the Allies who would be caught unawares by their success, however. Another nation would be stung into action.
***
[1] Order of Battle Peninsular Shield Force:
H.Q PSF
- 5th Combined Arms Battalion (SANG): LAV
- 6th Combined Arms Battalion (SANG): LAV
- Battery, Artillery Battalion (Kuwait): MLRS
1st Brigade
- Armored Battalion Battle Group (Bahrain)
- Armored Battalion: M60A3
-- Company, Mechanized Infantry Battalion: YPR-765
-- Artillery Battery: M109A5
--- Troop, Artillery Battery: MLRS
- Mechanized Infantry Battalion Battle Group (Bahrain)
- Mechanized Infantry Battalion (-): YPR-765
-- Company, Armored Battalion: M60A3
-- Artillery Battery: M109A5
- Tank Battalion Battle Group (Qatar)
-- Tank Battalion Battle Group (-): AMX-30
-- 2x Company, Mechanized Infantry Battalion: AMX-10P
-- Company, Anti-Tank Battalion: VAB HOT
-- Battery, Artillery Battalion: AMX F3
-- Platoon, Scout Company: AMX-10RC
2nd Brigade
- Mechanised Regiment Battle Group (Oman)
- Mechanised Regiment (Oman) (-): Desert Warrior
-- Squadron, Medium Reconnaissance Regiment (-): FV101 Scorpion
-- Artillery Battery: AS-90D
-- Engineer Troop: FV105 Spartan
- Mechanized Infantry Battalion Battle Group (Qatar)
-- Company, Tank Battalion: AMX-30
-- Company, Anti-Tank Battalion: VAB HOT
-- Battery, Artillery Battalion: AMX F3
-- Platoon, Scout Company: AMX-10RC
- Armored Battalion Battle Group (UAE)
-- Armored Battalion: LeClerc
-- 2x Company, Mechanized Infantry Battalion: Marder 2
-- 2x Battery, Artillery Battalion: PzH 2000
[2] Order of Battle for the landing on Bubiyan Island:
24th Regimental Landing Team (+) - USMCR -
- 1/24 Marines
- 2/24 Marines
- 3/24 Marines
- 3/14 Marines (-): M198
-- J Btry, 4/14th Marines: M109A6
-- P Btry, 5/14th Marines: M142 HIMARS
- B Co./4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion: LAV-25
- D Co./4th Light Armored Transport Battalion: LAV-P
- A Co./5th Light Armored Transport Battalion: LAV-P
- D Co./ 8th Tank Battalion: M1A1
- C Co./4th Reconnaissance Battalion
- C Co./4th Combat Engineer Battalion
15th Marine Expeditionary Unit (+)
- 2/1 Marines
- Platoon/C Co./1 LAR: LAV-25, LAV-AT
- Platoon/D Co./1 Tank Battalion: M1A1
- Platoon/A Co./3rd AAB: AAVP-7A1
- F Btry/2/11 Marines: M777
- Platoon/1st Force Reconnaissance Company:
- Platoon/C Co./1st Combat Engineer Battalion
- Combat Logistics Battalion 15
- Kuwaiti Marine Commando
