Read Combat Alley (2007) Online
Authors: Jack - Seals 06 Terral
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0630 HOURS
LIEUTENANT Bill Brannigan had hoped to begin his operation two hours earlier, but the undisciplined Pashtuns had an annoying habit of wandering off to chat with friends and relations from other villages, going somewhere to tend to nature's calls, or brewing a pot of tea to share with their comrades. The Yousafzai, thanks to Awalmir and his chief lieutenant, the one-eyed Paywastun, were the first to gather their fighters into a group to be divvied up per the SEAL commanding officer's instructions. Not until Brannigan appointed a Janoon commander and subcommander did that tribe's men assemble properly. Those two leaders were Ghairat, a veteran of the war against the Soviets, and his brother-in-law Pamir who, though in his early thirties, had also fought the invaders.
When the Brigands first arrived on the steppes, Brannigan had ordered that all important locations, terrain features, and villages be noted using the GPS devices. All this data had been entered on everyone's tactical maps. The Skipper used his chart to figure out the combination hunt-and-destroy missions for that day. Brannigan ordered Chief Matt Gunnarson to take his fire team and the forty-three Janoons assigned to him to the smallest Janoon village. A little figuring had indicated they would be following an azimuth of seventy-two degrees.
The rest of the detachment would fan out on evenly spaced vectors toward the east in the search for the enemy force. Brannigan and his three SEALs in headquarters would go due east on ninety degrees. Their LASH systems gave them a marked advantage over the bad guys. An important piece of intelligence brought back by Andy Malachenko from his undercover work was that the Russians had no effective communications capabilities. That not only meant they would have trouble staying in touch, but could not split up too far from each other or they would lose all unit integrity.
When the preliminaries were taken care of, the teams of Americans and Pashtuns married up. All had bandoleers stuffed with ammunition, weapons locked and loaded, horses properly prepared, and every swinging dick was in the saddle and ready to rock and roll.
Awalmir was with Cruiser while his able assistant Paywastun rode with Orlando Taylor. Ghairat of the Janoons had been assigned to Chief Matt Gunnarson while his fellow tribesman Pamir would be the senior native under Gutsy Olson.
Now Brannigan sat his horse in front of the assembled force. A quick survey from left to right gave him ample evidence that they would never be better prepared than at that moment. Go! he yelled, then added in Pashto, Lar sha!
The War of the Pranistay Steppes had begun.
Chapter 25
THE PRANISTAY STEPPES
4 DECEMBER
0945 HOURS
CHIEF Matt Gunnarson pulled his compass from his parka pocket and looked down at it in his gloved hand. During the more than three hours of travel across the steppes, one staggering disadvantage of the operation had immediately become apparent. The lack of language skills among both the American SEALs and the Pashtun fighters was causing confusion and a certain amount of pessimism.
Fire Team Alpha, made up of the chief petty officer, Tiny Burke, Pete Dawson, and Joe Miskoski, maintained a diamond formation for all-around security. However, the forty-three Janoons with them had proven completely unmanageable. Matt's attempts at conversing with Ghairat to get him to maintain closer management of his men proved futile. Neither man knew enough of the other's language to establish clear, unmistaken communication. The results were that the Pashtuns pretty much ambled along as they pleased, some keeping a watch on the horizon while others chatted among themselves as if the ride was no more than a recreational exercise.
Tiny Burke, who had been on the left flank, moved in closer to Matt. Chief, he said. Them guys are going along with their heads up their asses.
Hey, no shit, Matt grumbled. I don't know how to get 'em to close up. I been whistling and signaling but all the dumb bastards do is wave back at me. I tried talking to that guy Ghairat, but he just looks at me and gives me a shiteating grin. He sighed. I think they'll be more receptive once we're in a combat situation. Right now, they're not too concerned. I guess they just live in the moment.
If we're gonna keep coming on operations out here, we're gonna have to learn their lingo, Tiny said. Or at least some basic words to make 'em understand what they got to do.
I believe they are aware their home village is in danger, Matt mused. They just ain't the type to fret much until the shit actually hits the fan.
Well, I understand that we're in danger, Tiny remarked. I'm moving back to the flank. He pulled on the reins of his horse to return to his original position.
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RUSSIAN/PASHTUN FORCE
VALENTIN Surov hadn't had much rest in the past forty-eight hours. The roundabout visits to the seven Pashtun villages had been frustrating and time-consuming. Gathering up the remaining seventy Mahsuds had gone relatively well during the visits to their two communities. The fact that five of their fifty brethren had been killed during the raid on the Yousafzais motivated them to badal. But getting them to turn out armed, equipped, and mounted had taken several hours.
Things turned even more inconvenient at the Kharoti, Bhittani, and Ghilzai hamlets, where a total of 215 fighting men were available to join the invasion force. Although it was obvious that there would be dead and wounded among their number, they treated the whole thing like a lark. Surov spoke to them as diplomatically as possible, but his efforts did little in getting them to do something as simple as moving faster in the preparations. Since there was no present danger, they scampered around, going into each other's houses and stopping in groups for excited conversations. At one point somebody threw a soccer ball at a small crowd of men saddling their horses. This erupted into an impromptu melee of kicking the orb around that went on for several long minutes.
But now, in a column of bunches, the small force of 79 Russians and 335 Pashtuns moved across the flat country toward the location of the smallest Janoon village. At this point Surov grinned to himself; the odds of the coming battle were approximately twelve to one. It shouldn't take as long as wiping out the Yousafzai hamlet. A couple of swift runs through the place should wrap up the job in under an hour.
At that point, his plans were to mop up the remainder of the Janoon tribe before turning his deadly intents back against the Yousafzai. Surov had been told the Janoons could muster 85 fighters at the most while the Yousafzai had 105. Even if some Americans were among them, there wouldn't be enough to make much of a difference.
The Russian commander stood in his stirrups to check on the positions of his point men. He had instructed Aleksei Barkyev and Yakob Putnovsky to ride in the direction of three prominent peaks in the Kangal Mountains to the north. They were to head directly toward the middle one to stay on the proper azimuth to the Janoon village.
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1000 HOURS
LIEUTENANT Bill Brannigan and Chinar rode side by side as the headquarters group continued due east. Senior Chief Buford Dawkins and Frank Gomez were out on point, keeping them on course, while Hospital Corpsman Doc Bradley brought up the rear of the small group.
The going had been rough for a while after they ran into some terrain that included several deep gulley systems similar to the area where Chad Murchison was wounded. One area was so cut up that the group had to make a detour, going back in the direction they came from to swing out wider to the south. Following that disruption, they enjoyed five kilometers of easy riding across some flatlands before reaching an area filled with natural potholes. At that point the quintet had to slow down to avoid injuring the horses, who had to carefully pick their way through the pitted terrain.
As the ride progressed, Brannigan began to worry about the different teams spreading out too far. He checked his position on the GPS, then raised the section commanders to tell them to keep their people along the same longitudes as much as possible. If contact was made with the enemy, the response would have to be closely coordinated and timely.
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1030 HOURS
CHIEF Matt Gunnarson was startled when the Pashtuns to his direct front suddenly broke into a mad gallop, heading straight ahead at breakneck speed. Within seconds the rest of the tribesmen joined them. Expecting the worst, the chief spoke into his LASH to the rest of the team.
I don't know what goosed 'em, he said. But expect the worst. Could be they spotted the enemy. Draw your M16s and form as skirmishers. Dawson and Burke, stay where you're at. Miskoski, pull up between me and Dawson. He waited until they were properly formed up. At a trot, march!
The SEALs sped up, riding across the open ground at a steady pace, each man holding his M16 ready. After a few moments passed they saw what had caught the Pashtuns' collective attention. The Janoon village was a couple of kilometers ahead. By the time the Brigands arrived on site, the Pashtuns were dismounted and mingling with the villagers, laughing and talking as they greeted each other.
At that point Chief Petty Officer Matthew Gunnarson lost it.
Goddamn it! he yelled in a fury. What the fuck's the matter with you shitheads? Get some security out! The fucking enemy could be just over the horizon!
The people, some grinning while others frowned in puzzlement, looked at the foreigner who was bellowing gibberish at them. The natives could see no point in being worried and upset. Everything was fine. At that point the SEALs made a simultaneous decision to set an example. Tiny Burke went to the front of the village and took up what was obviously a guard position. Joe Miskoski and Pete Dawson did the same thing to the right and left sides. Pashtuns may be excitable and impetuous, but they're not stupid. In less than a half minute they realized what the Americans were doing. The warriors immediately got their AK-47s and split themselves up to join the SEALs. Some others went to the far side of the village to stand watch there. Now the chief petty officer relaxed. Things were beginning to look better.
Then a salvo of shots came in from the left front, followed by some from the right front. A couple of beats later, incoming fire was directed at them from the direct front. Matt went to his LASH again. Brigand Boss, this is Alpha at our objective. We are under attack. I say again. We are under attack. Out.
Now it was Brannigan's voice over the net. Sections and teams report!
First Section, over! replied Cruiser.
Second Section, over! answered Taylor.
Next came Fire Teams Bravo, Charlie, and Delta.
All sections and teams, head for the Alphas at the Janoon village. Out!
As the rest of the detachment along with their native allies swung toward the target area, Chief Matt Gunnarson joined the fighting lines. There wasn't enough time for any organization or direction. The enemy was already headed toward them at a gallop. To the defenders it appeared as if an entire cavalry corps was charging down their throats.
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THE BATTLE
THE 79 Russians had broken down into previously organized echelons with Valentin Surov leading the most forward group of 28. Directly to his left rear came 25 more under the command of Aleksei Barkyev, while to his right rear, and spread out a bit more, came 26 led by Timofei Dagorov. All around them, riding insanely without form or discipline, were 335 close-packed Pashtun fighters, bumping against each other and breaking up the Russian lines as they intruded into their space.
THE SEALs and Pashtuns in the village began firing into the mass of horsemen pounding straight at them. Aiming wasn't necessary. They simply pointed the bores of their weapons at the horde and made rhythmic pulls on the triggers. Some of the ammo was tracer, and the fiery streaks behind the slugs lit the trajectories of the rounds. All went directly into the attacking formation.
SUROV had to swerve wildly around two men and their horses, who crumpled to the ground to his direct front. Humans and animals tumbled in a dust-raising mass of yelling and neighing.
At that point the Russian losses were light, but the crazyass Pashtuns were getting blown out of their saddles at a heavy but acceptable rate. The former army officer had plenty of natives to spare, and was not particularly concerned about the losses.
The attacking force went straight through the village, arriving on the other side in a disorganized jumble of Europeans and Pashtuns with their horses crowding and pushing together in a nervous mass. Surov shouted orders in two languages to restore some discipline to the formation, and the two groups began pulling apart to team up with their own ethnic brothers.
CHIEF Petty Officer Matt Gunnarson was an experienced combat leader with the ability to maintain a steady hand over the situation while keeping his mind working a few steps ahead of what was going on at any given moment. It took him only an instant to realize the attackers had been forced to pause to reform their ranks, and he immediately jumped into action to take advantage of the brief lull.