The Black Effect (Cold War) (18 page)

“I’ve got three men in the village there,” Dean said, pointing towards Voldagsen. “It would be better if we could hold that.”

The German officer studied the map. “I used to command a battalion in the Bundeswehr until I was invalided out. I have a bit of a limp,” he said, tapping his left leg. “Jumped out of a helicopter just as a gust of wind jolted the machine upwards about five-metres. My leg is now more steel than flesh.” He laughed. “Yes, we must hold that plot. I could put half my men there with Kanonen. The rest...where would you suggest?”

“We have recce on top of the Hohenstein, but it would be good to have a small force lower down on the eastern edge. You can spot for any enemy approaching and pull back should you need to through the forest, covering my southern flank.”

“Yes, I like it. We work well together already, Leutnant.”

“Dean, my name’s Dean.”

“Ah, Dean. Mine is Leon. So, you will pull your men back and reinforce here, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I will get my men moving.”

Dean watched as the Lieutenant organised his men. Many of them seemed older even than their leader, perhaps as old as sixty. They certainly weren’t going to let the Soviets take their country without a fight.

C
hapter 20

0
630 7 JULY 1984. THE BLACK HORSE REGIMENT, 11TH ARMOURED CAVALRY REGIMENT. SOUTH-WEST OF FULDA TOWN, WEST GERMANY.

THE BLACK EFFECT −21.5 HOURS.

The Snake hovered behind the trees. Its partner was 100 metres to the right. The rotor blade slicing through the air was keeping it at just the right height, the tail rotor keeping it facing east, towards where the enemy would appear.

“
Viper-One. Zulu-Three. Four Tango-Six-Fours, 2,000 metres my location
.”

“Roger, Zulu-Three.”

“
Zulu-Three. Moving past your location figures two. Standby
.”

“Roger, Zulu-Three. We’ll watch out for you, buddy.”

The pilot tilted his head forward slightly as he spoke through the intercom to the gunner who was sitting in front of the tandem cockpit.

“Our boys will be through in about two minutes. Four Tangos are right behind them.”

“I’m ready.”

“
Viper-One, Viper-Two, this is Angel-One. I have visual. Behind Tangos are six Bravo-Mike-Papas
.”

Angel-One, a Hughes OH-6, was a kilometre further forward, spotting for the two AH-1, Cobra attack helicopters.

“Roger that, Angel-One.”

“
Viper-Two, Viper-One. Four Tangos inbound, right behind Zulu-Three. Over
.”

“I’ll take number one. Over.”

“
Confirmed. Number two is mine. Out
.”

All the two AH-1 Cobra attack helicopters had to do was wait. Once Angel-One gave them the nod, they would pop up and unleash their TOW anti-tank missiles, hit their target, drop down, move back and go through the same sequence all over again.

Ever since the Soviets had crossed the River Fulda in force, they had been steadily pushing the American force backwards.

Private First-Class Larry Poole started the gas turbine, and Emery turned the turret and the 105mm gun barrel, checking everything was in order. SSGT Lewis was still standing with his body half out of the turret, scanning for any sign of the enemy. A-platoon, Anvil-platoon, were now down to two tanks. They had survived the last attack, but Lewis knew they wouldn’t hold out here for long. All they had to do, for one last time, was blunt the attack and race back as fast as they could. The Soviet army had pushed the 11th Armoured Cavalry Regiment, the Black Horse Regiment, back twenty-five kilometres and were now on the doorstep of the Fulda Gap with every intention of thrusting through the gap and speeding the 100 kilometres that would see them right in the centre of the German city of Frankfurt. His squadron wouldn’t have to remain here for long. They were just acting as a covering force while the rest of the regiment withdrew completely from the battle area. Not only were the men of the regiment desperate for a break, but so were the tanks. This would be just a short fight.

Maybe even shorter than they planned, should they get hit, thought Lewis with a smile. Two rounds of sabot, fire the smoke grenades, and then hot food and a shower, he kept telling himself. The big battle was to come. The Soviet forces were getting stronger and stronger every day as more and more flooded across the river. But soon they would come up against the 3rd Armoured Division and the 8th Mechanised Division. Then you would see the battle of the giants. That he would like to see. No more running. Those two formations would have to hold their ground until reinforcements, flown in from the States, had drawn their equipment from the POMCUS sites and joined the fight. Bigger units would follow, crossing the Atlantic Ocean.

Thank God AH-1 Cobras were in support, he thought to himself, but they had already lost two: one to the dreaded Shilkas and one to a Hind-D.

“Any US unit, Kerzell area, this is Viper-One. You have at least one battalion, Tango-Six-Fours, heading your location. Going back to refuel and rearm. Good luck, buddy. Out.”

“Standby,” yelled Lewis.

He dropped into the turret and patted the armour of his beloved M1. “Looking to you to protect us today.”

The tank crew would be depending on the M1’s Chobham armour.

“See anything, Staff Sergeant?”

“That’s a negative.”

They heard a distant explosion as a Cobra took out its last Soviet tank before it too had to return to base to rearm.

“Unidentified US tank unit, this is Viper-Two. I’m the last one out. They’re 1,000 metres out.”

“I see one. A thousand, two Tangos.”

“Sabot.”

“Up.”

“Fire.”

The Soviet T-64 didn’t see it coming, but was lucky as the sloped armour caused the round to ricochet off.

“Missed!”

“Sabot.”

“Up.”

“Fire.”

This time the long-rod penetrator hit one of the T-64’s ERA blocks, the subsequent explosion destroying the penetrator’s momentum, leaving it partially fragmented in the armour with the remaining piece dropping away.

“Son of a bitch,” yelled Emery.

The target had now fired, but fortunately not at them, but at an anti-tank missile post hoping to get its first hit of the day. The tank was now 800 metres away.

“Sabot.”

“Up.”

“Fire.”

This time the long slender dart did its job, penetrating the tank’s armour; then, driven by the sheer force of the kinetic energy, it drilled through the T-80’s turret, the residual energy blowing a spall of fragments of armour that peeled off the inside of the fighting compartment, killing its crew within a matter of seconds. The T-64 finally ground to a halt. More tanks appeared, and Lewis knew they would have to bug out soon. There were just too many of them and so few M1s. But he waited for the order. He knew his commander would make the right decision at the right time. Another shot went out as half a dozen T-64s, a line of BMP-1s behind them, appeared at less than 1,500 metres away. If they didn’t move soon, they would be over run.

Suddenly, artillery rounds erupted around the enemy tanks, stripping off some of the protective blocks. A round sliced through a section of a T-64, destroying the auto-loader and killing the gunner. The two crew left, the commander and driver, escaped the stricken tank, only to be cut down by a burst from an M1’s coaxial machine gun.

“
Anvil-One-Two, this is Anvil One-One. Make smoke and bug out. Out
.”

Lewis didn’t need to be told twice. He hit the button and popped smoke.

“Get us out of here, Poole! Now!”

Chapte
r 21

1800 7
JULY 1984. 8TH MOTOSCHUTZ DIVISION, 8TH ARMEE, NATIONALE VOLKSARMEE. EAST OF ECKLAK, WEST GERMANY.

THE BLACK EFFECT −10 HOURS.

The East German machine gunner dropped to the ground. His IMGK, a Soviet RPK machine gun, was instantly set up on its bipod and, within a matter of seconds, rounds were going out, keeping the heads down of the Bundeswehr soldiers defending the small village of Ecklak. The platoon commander called his radio operator forward and spoke to his company commander via the R-126 radio. His motorised rifle platoon, along with the rest of his Company, was tasked with keeping the heads of the defenders under fire, while the rest of the battalion went round the right flank. He bellowed to his men, and a steady stream of gunfire ripped into the buildings 300 metres away, the enemy returning sporadic fire. He didn’t envy his
kameraden
who were going to initiate the attack. Not only would they come under fire from the Bundeswehr and Landwehr soldiers in and around the village, but also from Bundeswehr tanks on the other side of the canal, 500 metres north of the village.

The Nord-Ostee-Kanal, that ran across Schleswig-Holstein, fed from the Baltic Sea in the north-east and from the North Sea to the south-west, was NATO’s second stop line in this sector. Here, NATO hoped to stop the NVA and Soviet forces thrusting north to Flensburg and deep into Denmark. They had fought well, defending the eastern sector of Hamburg and Lubeck on the opposite coast, but the Warsaw Pact forces were just too powerful. Once the Soviet and East German forces had broken the line, the defenders just had to keep moving; otherwise the enemy would have just rolled up a flank and they would have been surrounded. Better to pull back where they could prepare better defences. This stretch was being defended by the remnants of 16th Panzer Brigade of the 6th Panzer Division. Germans were now fighting Germans.

After the war, the East German Army, the
Nationale Volksarmee
(NVA) came into existence when, in 1955, the Federal Republic of Germany formed its own army to contribute to its own defence in support of NATO forces. The
Deutschland Democratic Republic
, DDR, authorised by their Soviet masters, responded quickly and, by 1962, conscription was enforced. The NVA grew to the 108,000 strong army it was now. Along with Soviet divisions, the 5th German Army had struck at Lubeck, quickly crossing the Elbe-Lubeck Canal, supported by the Soviet 336th Naval Infantry Brigade landing west of Gromitz. With T-55 tanks, BTR-60s and BTR-70s, wheeled armoured infantry combat vehicles, and in the region of 4,000 naval infantry, they quickly overpowered the local defence force, threatening the left flank of the Bundeswehr forces defending Lubeck who were in danger of having Soviet troops behind them. They were forced to make a steady withdrawal. The Naval Brigade, as well as threatening the eastern and northern sector of Lubeck, also struck out for Pansdorf, to cut off the Travemunde Peninsular.

Over time, the Bundeswehr were slowly pushed back, overwhelmed by the sheer size of the Soviet and
Nationale Volksarmee
forces arrayed against them. Schleswig-Holstein-Command had already decided to abandon their headquarters in Neumunster and would need time to get organised at their new location: the town of Schleswig. Their latest defensive position was a line that ran across from Brunsbuttal in the west, through Schafstedt, Rendsburg to the north of Kiel. Landwehr and Jaeger units were still fighting the Soviets in the city of Kiel, the Russian leaders reluctant to commit too many forces to a street by street, house by house battle.

The Bundeswehr’s 6th Panzer Division had been fighting for nearly three days and the men were exhausted. Their machines were holding up well, Leopard 1s in the main, but due to heavy interdiction from the Soviet air force, fuel and ammunition was in short supply. The three brigades, one Panzer and two Panzer grenadier, along with a mixture of Jaeger and Landwehr units, had a front of 100 kilometres to hold. They were now dug in behind the Nord-Ostee-Kanal, their mission to hold until the arrival of much needed reinforcements from the Allied Command Europe (ACE) Mobile Force, a multinational force that would not only demonstrate the solidarity of the NATO alliance but could also pack a punch in its own right.

The platoon commander pulled his head down as some stray shots zipped overhead. He needed some heavier firepower and called forward his two remaining BMP-1s, the two others lost to a shell from a Bundeswehr Leopard-1. The two BMPs soon got into the firefight, their 73mm guns and PKT coaxial machine guns putting extra fire down onto the enemy. He only allowed five of the 73mm rounds to be fired from each gun. Ammunition was starting to run low, and he wasn’t sure when they would be resupplied. He heard large explosions coming from deeper into the village as the rest of the battalion of the 8th Motorschutz Division got to grips with the enemy within. Every time that word ‘enemy’ went through his mind, it felt uncomfortable.
These were Germans, like him. Were they truly the enemy?
he thought.

The previous day, he had spoken to some wounded Bundeswehr soldiers, and one of them asked him why they were attacking them. What had they done wrong? He found he couldn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t actually know the true reason himself. The radio crackled, and his radio operator confirmed that the enemy were pulling back. They were to wait ten minutes, then advance. Once secured, the bridging units and additional forces could be brought forward ready to force a crossing the next day.

Behind them, the 9th Panzer Division was ready to exploit the crossing once a bridgehead had been formed. A fast crossing, fanning out west and east, attempting to cut off the retreating Bundeswehr forces, and they would be one step closer to entering Denmark.

1800 7 JULY 1984. 12 MECHANISED DIVISION, 1ST POLISH ARMEE. NORTH OF TOSTEDT, WEST GERMANY.

THE BLACK EFFECT −10 HOURS.

Colonel Bajek, his black tanker’s uniform and badge showing him to be with the Polish army, steadied himself as he rocked backwards and forwards in the turret of his T-55 tank, attempting to steady the map as they raced along Route 76. He needed to be sure when to come off the road, to pick the right time to bear north, passing around the northern outskirts of Tostedt. His orders were clear: don’t get bogged down fighting for towns, or even villages; bypass them. Push west and hard. His objective was Rotenburg, less than twenty kilometres from the town of Achim and the River Werdesee. His division had been ordered to secure the east bank of the river by nightfall. An Air Assault Brigade would be assaulting the western bank the following morning. A crossing had to be forced, a bridgehead made, enabling 20th Tank Division, with its more modern T-72 tanks, to break out. He hoped to command one of the T-72 tank battalions one day, if not a full regiment. His own T-55AD2 command tank was old, built in 1976. His battalion had been plagued with breakdowns and, out of his battalion of forty tanks, five had been left behind for repairs.

At the same time he heard the rumble of an explosion up ahead, his radio crackled in his headphones beneath his black-ribbed, padded helmet. “
Zero-Jeden. Shontaktuj
.”

“Damn, another contact!” He groaned loudly above the sound of the tank’s engine and the rattle of tracks.

He ordered his driver to pull over. He ran his finger across the map. His lead company was about 200 metres up ahead, the other two companies behind.

“What is it?”

“
One of those missile panzers again, sir.
”

“Have you destroyed it?”

“
No, sir, it fired its missile then disappeared
.”

“Hit and run, hit and run,” he mumbled to himself. The Bundeswehr Racketenjagdpanzers, particularly the Jaguar 1s, had been hitting his battalion for the last twenty-four hours. They would simply hide, hit the first tank in the column, then race off at sixty kilometres an hour to set up another ambush. Four tanks lost to date. He cursed his senior officers for pushing his unit so fast, diverting the division’s reconnaissance for other flanking tasks.

“Lysek, move north. Leave a platoon on the road to cover, then head north.”

“
Understood, sir, north.
”

He looked at his map again. “Watch out for the village to your north, Dohren. I’ll call in some air support. See if we can’t give them a taste of their own medicine.”

“
When will you release my platoon, sir?
”

“Once the battalion is clear of Dohren, they can join up with you. Moroz can take the lead then. Out.”

He spoke into his intercom, ordering his driver forward. He turned, hearing his second tank company approaching from behind. Time to move north soon, skirt the town ahead, and press on.