The Blue Effect (Cold War) (3 page)

“Delta-Four-Bravo, this is Delta-Four-Alpha. In position. Copse 1000 metres west your location. I’ll talk you in. Over.”

“Understood. Moving now. Out.”

2000, 8 JULY 1984. 48TH GUARDS TANK REGIMENT, 12TH GUARDS TANK DIVISION, 3RD SHOCK ARMY. WEST OF PATTENSEN, WEST GERMANY.

THE BLUE EFFECT -3 DAYS

Colonel Kharzin pressed his regiment hard. The Bear had left him in no doubt of the consequences of failure. Artillery shells airburst above his head, and he dropped into the turret, the turret cover quickly pulled down to secure the tank. Moments later, his regiment felt the effects of the 155mm rounds as they discharged sub munitions above their heads, showering the racing T-80s with a rain of small, almost insignificant-looking, armoured-piercing projectiles. His regiment, spread out across the open fields, charged west to maintain the Operational Manoeuvre Group’s momentum. Elements of his forward units were brought to a halt as four salvos, of nearly 3,000 sub munitions, fired by the Royal Artillery, struck. The sub munitions, small shaped-charge warheads, smashed into the top cover of the speeding tanks. The ERA blocks secured across the armour deflected many. Although limited in capability, penetrating only tens of millimetres of armour some got through causing devastation. One managed to penetrate a tank’s ammunition carousel. The explosion was catastrophic. For some of the T-80s, the thinner armour on top of the turret succumbed, crewmen inside injured, but several drivers were able to keep their tanks on the move. One ground to a halt, the thin engine deck failing to resist the hot molten metal as it bit into the gas-turbine motor, rupturing the engine, engulfing the armoured vehicle in a steadily growing ball of flame. Black, oily smoke identified those tanks most badly hit.

Kharzin ordered his spearhead company to halt as the last salvo of Improved Conventional Munitions struck. A company of BMP-2s had been ordered forward to provide right-flanking protection from the British Mechanised Infantry Battalion that he knew to be out there somewhere to the north. In fact, the two antagonists had been in parallel, racing west: the British to escape and reform further back, the Soviets to link up with the airborne carpet that had been laid out in front of their axis of attack.

The smaller armoured vehicles fared worse, the company of ten mechanised infantry combat vehicles, MICVs, each carrying a Soviet motor-rifle section, losing half of their force. A concentrated salvo had straddled the small group on three separate occasions in less than a minute. Soldiers had huddled in their dark, cramped troop compartments, some feeling sick after being thrown from side to side inside the claustrophobic space as the BMP-2s raced across the undulating ground as if the devil himself was after them. In some respects, he was, in the form of their divisional commander, the Bear. Then they were met by a searing heat as jets of molten metal penetrated the thin armour, splaying out inside in a plume of destructive energy that ate into the flesh and bone of the cowering human beings who had nowhere to go but die a horrible, painful death as their vehicles continued on. The driver, in his own world of fear, carried on, deaf to the screams of his comrades dying less than a metre behind him.

A second vehicle erupted in a violent ball of flame. First, it was struck by a single charge which tore off a track rendering the BMP motionless; then by two more of the small but deadly charges, one piercing the troop compartment killing four men as they scrambled to escape the stricken vehicle, the second penetrating the turret, setting off the anti-tank missiles and the large calibre ammunition from the 30mm gun.

The platoon commanders, those that had survived, were terrified by the cacophony of sound battering what they’d hoped was their safe haven. They had to use every ounce of persuasiveness to keep their soldiers from panicking. One infantryman opened the rear door as the BMP was on the move. The sound from without horrified his comrades even more as they heaved the door shut, one soldier striking his comrade with the butt of the gun he had retrieved from the clip at his side. The lieutenants and sergeants either used threats or attempted to cajole their men to keep order. One sergeant, cramped in the back of a troop compartment with his subordinates, even begged the soldiers to keep their alarm in check, promising them they would survive. They just needed to remain calm and trust in the protection of their armour. His cries fell on deaf ears as two charges struck the top armour, punching through, savagely tearing into the helpless men inside, mutilating their bodies. Prisoners, trapped inside their own steel coffin.

The BMP Company was brought to a halt; the commander dead, killed in the first salvo, the rest of the unit either crippled, dying or leaderless and floundering. Kharzin radioed his force, establishing the state of his leading unit, and ordering the following units to make best speed and catch up. He was immediately in contact with the 1st Battalion Commander having him order his second and third company to bypass the crippled lead company and continue to push ahead.

Kharzin’s tank approached his lead company and received reports from the battered unit. He then waited for the second and third company to pass through. Out of the ten T-80s and ten BMP-2s he had pushed forward, three of the main battle tanks were ablaze, their engines afire, fuel and exploding ordnance feeding it, forcing back any rescuers attempting to recover the crews. One had a track split in two places: recoverable, but out of commission for at least half a day. The fifth had survived, mainly intact, but the turret was frozen in place, the repair time unknown. As for the rest of the company, plus his own T-80K, they were fully operational, but many had lost explosive reactive blocks from the surface of their armour, the blocks fulfilling their role in protecting the tanks.

For the infantry company, it was a similar story: three completely destroyed, a fourth with both tracks lost, and a fifth with minor damage to the turret but capable of continuing with the battle if called upon. Twenty-six infantrymen had been either killed or severely wounded. Some of those that had survived were in a serious state of shock and temporarily deaf. But they would be expected by their leaders to remain with the unit and fight when called upon. Ten tank crewmen had been killed. Kharzin had also lost a ZSU 23/4 and an SA-9.
The British have drawn real blood for the first time in regard to the 12th Guards Tank Division
, he thought.

“Four-Eight-Zero, this is Four-Eight-One. Passing your location. Orders. Over.”

“Push for Ronnenberg. Link up with the airborne. I’m right behind you.” He ordered 1st Battalion forward.

With that, he gave the order to move to his driver, who was still slightly shaken after experiencing his first taste of being under artillery fire. He pressed the pedal and the armoured giant surged forward. Not far away was a T-80K, followed by two MTLB command vehicles belonging to the 1st Battalion HQ, as the commander came forward with his third tank company. Soon, Kharzin would have a full battalion, minus the casualties, starting to make progress.

“Four-Eight-Zero, this is Zero-One-Two. What is your situation? Over?”

“Artillery strike. Temporary halt. First-battalion pressing forward,” replied Kharzin.

“Keep up the pressure, Yury. There’s to be no stopping,” responded the Bear.

“Understood. The British artillery will strike again once they relocate.”

“We will deal with them. Forward, Yury, you must move forward. Out.”

“Four-Eight-Four, this is Four-Eight-Zero. Report. Over.”

“We have sight of Four-Eight-One. Situation Report. Over,”
responded Captain Kalyagin, the commander of the regimental recce company, from his BMP command vehicle.

“Go ahead.”

“Contact with airborne. Two elements have secured Ronnenberg and Wettbergen. You have free passage. Over.”

“Understood. Make your way to Ditterke and report. You must secure the gap.”

“Understood. Will contact you when we have a visual. Out.”

C
hapter 3

2
030, 8 JULY 1984. 1ST BATTALION, 36TH MECHANISED INFANTRY REGIMENT, 3RD BRIGADE, 3RD ARMOURED DIVISION, US V CORPS. STOP-LINE DALLAS, NORTHEAST OF SCHLUCHTERN, WEST GERMANY.

THE BLUE EFFECT -3 DAYS

The Soviet planners of the invasion of West Germany had a number of routes, options, available to them. Two consisted of a strike into Western Europe from the area of the River Danube in the south, or across the flat, open plains of Germany in the north. Crossing the River Danube would allow the Warsaw Pact to attack through Austria and into the soft underbelly of West Germany, in between Nuremberg and Stuttgart, supporting any attack from Czechoslovakia. In the north, the flat open plains straddling Minden, north and south, would allow the fast movement of massed tank armies, although the growth of the West German population and subsequent expansion of the towns and villages would in effect provide small defendable fortresses. A third and fourth option was to cut through the two corridors of the Fulda-Gap: an area that stretched between East Germany and Frankfurt am Main where two low-lying corridors linked Bad Hersfield in the north and Fulda in the south with the River Main. Situated close to the banks of this major German river sits Frankfurt. Napoleon’s armies used these very routes after they were defeated at Leipzig. Over 100 years later, during WW2, it was the route taken by the US XII Corps as they advanced on the Germans in 1945. The northernmost corridor passes south of Knullgebirge and continues around the northern slopes of the Vogelsberg Mountains, a volcanic massif reaching a height of 773 metres. The southern corridor stretches from the town of Fulda to Frankfurt via the Flieden and Kinzig valleys, straddled by the Vogelsberg Mountains to the north with the Rhon and Spessart Mountains to the south.

Emerging from the western exit of these two routes, the Soviet army would encounter less undulating terrain, speeding up their advance after the slow, restricted corridors they would have initially navigated. From there, they could strike out for the River Rhine and attack deep into the heart of the US military, centred on Frankfurt am Main. The Rhein-Main Air Base, designated to receive a huge bulk of the US reinforcements, had to be defended at all costs.

Beyond Frankfurt, the US army garrison of Wiesbaden was a mere thirty kilometres away. The defence of this gap was in the hands of the US V Corps. With the 11th Cavalry Regiment, the ‘Black Horse’ Regiment, completing its role as a covering force after being pushed back by the advancing forces of the Soviet 8th Guards Army. General Stilwell, commander of US V Corps, had now committed the rest of his forces to the defence of this critical sector. His toughest unit was that of the 3rd US Armoured Division, and it was this unit that would take the brunt of the next phase of the Soviet attack.

The most famous soldier in the 3rd Armoured Division during the 1950s was Elvis Presley, assigned to Company A, 1st Battalion, 32nd Armoured Regiment, Combat Command C, at Ray Barracks in Friedberg. After his time in service, Elvis made the famous movie
G.I. Blues
in which he portrays a 3rd Armoured Division tank crewman with a singing career. Former Secretary of State, General Colin Powell, also served in the 3rd Armoured Division and went on to command V Corps in Germany. However, the Spearhead Division was about to face its toughest task yet.

The M113 Armoured Personnel Carrier, the first armoured vehicle of its kind to have an aluminium hull, slewed left, coming to a halt, depositing the HQ element of the platoon it carried. The soldiers dismounted as a second APC pulled up alongside them. The platoon leader beckoned for his men to deploy along the edge of the wood on the lower part of the slope, northwest of Schluchtern, they were assigned to defend. A third and fourth M113 manoeuvred further into the trees where their squads would also dig in overlooking the L3292, a minor road that ran west from the Autobahn that snaked southwest through the 3rd Brigade’s position.

The platoon leader, Lieutenant Garcia, and his four squads had the task of protecting two units from the anti-tank platoon sent from the support company. They were expected within the next ten minutes.

Garcia made his way into the trees and met up with his platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Ricardo Park.

“LT, I’ve put first and second squad on the far left, weapons squad in the middle with third squad on the right.”

“What are the foxholes like?”

“Good, sir, a decent size. The engineers have done a half decent job. The squads just need to sort out some top-cover.”

“Let’s go take a look then, Platoon Sergeant. We need to get the APCs moved pretty soon.”

Before they could take a step towards the lower slope, the sound of the ITVs could be heard making their way through the trees. Although the forested area was very large, the trees themselves were fairly widely spaced, allowing smaller armoured vehicles to weave their way through slowly, providing someone guided them on foot. They turned around and headed back towards where the M113s were parked up and were met by an infantryman on foot guiding one of the M109 ITVs through the trees. Behind the lead ITV, they could see a second one following. The gunner who was the guide raised his hand and called a halt, and Garcia and Sergeant Park made their way over to the vehicle. The driver’s helmeted head, goggles pushed up and back, could be seen peering out of the driver’s hatch.

Behind him, the squad leader was sitting higher up. He called down, “Where do you want us, sir?”

“If you follow us in, we’ll take you to your positions.”

“Have they dug some berms for us?”

Lieutenant Garcia turned to Park and the platoon sergeant answered, “Yes. You have two facing the northeast and two to the southeast. I suggest you place one ITV each side. That’ll give you two berms for each track.”

“Your men, sir?”

“You’ll have two squads on your left,” answered Garcia. “Along with the weapons squad, that’s where they’ll probably try and flank us. There’s a squad on your right, so watch where you go.” The lieutenant laughed. “I don’t want you running over my boys.”

“I’ll lead then, LT,” suggested Park. “You can hitch a ride.”

“You’re on, Sergeant.”

Garcia clambered up onto the M109 ITV, an Improved TOW Vehicle, crouching down next to the squad leader, Sergeant Dowling. To his left was the lowered ‘hammerhead’ turret, the TOW weapon launcher. He nearly fell off as the driver applied power to the tracks and the vehicle jerked forward.

“They coming tomorrow, Lieutenant?”

“They’ll be here alright, so get yourselves organised quickly.”

“Who’s holding them off?”

“Twelve-Cav and two companies from 2nd Battalion. But they’ll be here before the night’s out. We’ll probably see their recce first thing.”

Sergeant Park turned round and jabbed his left arm in the direction of the southeast.

“Tell your second unit to follow my platoon sergeant, and I’ll lead you to your location. I’ll set up my platoon HQ close by.”

“We’ll need to ride in behind our positions, sir. Confirm our landmarks; then pull back out of sight.”

“Yeah, fine.” Garcia tapped the hammerhead. “These babies do a good job then?”

“You bet, sir. Eighty per cent probability of a hit.”

“Keep your boys tight, Sergeant. Popov will looking to hit you during the twenty per cent.”

“Gotcha, LT.”

The vehicle spun on its tracks and headed northeast, the lieutenant guiding the driver.

“How far are we from your squads, sir?”

Garcia thought for a moment. “I’ve not looked at the positions yet, but we instructed your berms to be dug at least fifty metres from our positions.”

“When these things fire, we’ll draw their attention, that’s for sure. Once the Red Army’s tanks are less than 1,000 metres, we have orders to pull back.”

“They’ll be close enough for our Dragons then,” answered Garcia. “Here we are.”

The ITV stopped with a jolt, close to the edge of the forest, a berm carved out in front of them and the lieutenant slid down the front and off.

“I’ll need to go further forward, sir. Check out the scenery.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Garcia patted the slab side of the ITV as it picked up speed, one of the crew now leading it through the trees.

The M109 ITV picked its way forward slowly and drove closer to the edge of the forest, only far enough so it was in a position for the squad leader to check out the lay of the land. The ground behind him was about 500 metres at its highest point, and his vehicle, along with the supporting infantry, was at roughly 200 to 300 metres. It gave him a great view of not only the valley where the Autobahn ran across the open fields towards his position, but he could also see across the open ground, apart from a few small buildings, to his left. The second ITV, 100 metres off to his right, would cover any blind spots. To his right was the berm dug out by the engineers from where he could support the mechanised infantry company dug in close by. And they, in turn, would reciprocate. His M109 ITV, replacing the older M113A1 TOW, would finally get an opportunity to show the enemy what it was capable of.

Dowling laughed to himself. The Russians were about to come up against the 3rd Armoured Division, so God help them. “Back up. I want to see the view from the berm.”

2030, 8 JULY 1984. 4TH BATTALION, 67TH ARMOURED REGIMENT, 3RD BRIGADE, 3RD ARMOURED DIVISION, US V CORPS. STOP-LINE DALLAS, SOUTHEAST OF SCHLUCHTERN, WEST GERMANY.

THE BLUE EFFECT -3 DAYS

Two-Company, and its seventeen M1 Abram’s, occupied the forward slope of a set of hills that looked out onto a valley, just south of the village of Gomfritz, facing the Autobahn coming from the northeast. A company from the 1st Mechanised Infantry Battalion had been given the northern side of the valley to defend, and a company of tanks from 4th Armoured Battalion the southern. The Major checked the positions of his armour, conferring with his platoon leaders, agreeing which platoons would pull out first and which would provide over-watch.

The road was now quiet. A long column of evacuees had passed by earlier in the day. Major Anderson dropped down beside his personal Abram’s and rested his back against one of the bogie wheels where Lieutenant Hendricks, one of his platoon leaders, joined him. Anderson had a map on his knee and was examining the layout of the area the Spearhead Division had to defend.

“They’re going to roll right into us tomorrow, sir.”

“That they are, Ed, so keep your boys on the ball.”

A rumble of explosions, no more than three kilometres away, shattered the relative silence.

“Son of a bitch. The Cav and the 2nd are getting some Soviet attention.”

Major Anderson turned to his junior officer. “Yeah, but I hear the Russians are getting a bit of a stonking too.”

“Those Cobras scare me, and they’re on our side. Is Dallas ready, sir?”

Anderson slid the map across and briefed his subordinate on what he believed was the current status of Stop-Line Dallas.

As part of the preparation, for a potential invasion by the Warsaw Pact, which had been conducted over the last five years, the commander of US V Corps had instigated a number of stop-lines where his defence of the Fulda Gap and, in turn, the city of Frankfurt, would be conducted. Two of those had already been crossed. 11th Cavalry, using a rolling defence, provided the initial resistance to the Soviet invasion. Now, the responsibility had fallen to the 3rd Armoured Division to hold the final two stop-lines. The immediate one, Stop-Line Dallas, named after an American city, ran from Grafendorf northwest to Schluchtern, where the 3rd Brigade were centred, north to Freinsteinau, then west through Shotton, and north-east to Alsfeld. 1st Brigade had Alsfeld, and 2nd Brigade was on 3rd Brigade’s left flank around Freinsteinau and Shotton, the towering Vogelsberg Mountains in the middle. If they were unsuccessful in holding, the Division would pull back to Stop-Line Phoenix, a line that ran from Lohr to Friedberg, passing through Geinhausen and Glauburg. Behind the 3rd Armoured Division sat the 8th Mechanised Infantry Division, deploying behind Phoenix ready to hold ground until more reinforcements arrived.

Beyond that line, the US military was still assessing what their next action would be. All that depended on speed: speed of the Soviet advance, speed at which reinforcements could be brought into the country, and the speed at which the US air force, and other NATO air forces for that matter, could hold their ground, gain air superiority, and hit back hard at the marauding Soviet armies.

US V Corps’ primary role was the defence of the Fulda Gap and, ultimately, Frankfurt. On its right flank, US VII Corps was also battling with an advancing Soviet force, where 4th Armoured Division was digging in. Further right again, 2nd German Corps was holding. On their left flank, 3rd German Corps was fighting a bitter battle to hold ground. 1st Belgian Corps, having finally taken up their position to the German’s left flank, took considerable pressure off the German Corps that had effectively been fighting a two Corps front. Although under the command of the Central Army Group (CENTAG), and following the orders of their American Army Group commander, the German Bundeswehr was impatient to hit back. Having been forced to constantly retreat towards the west, watching their soldiers and civilians suffer from horrendous injuries and the devastating effects of chemical agents launched by the Soviet army, they were ready to release a brigade to support a counter-attack, catch the Soviets off guard, blunt their advance, and take the battle to the enemy. Their argument was that it would force the Soviets to halt and take stock, taking some pressure off the mauled Bundeswehr brigades, giving them time to consolidate and rearm. But, for now, their American commander was holding firm and reining them in.

“Looking good, sir.”

“It does Ed. But for us, it all starts tomorrow. Let’s mosey and check out the crews.”

They both left the berm where one of the HQ’s M1s was hull down, and moved off to check on the lieutenant’s platoon of five tanks.

Of the three platoons in Two-Company, Lieutenant Kendrick’s platoon held the centre, covering the gap between Gomfritz, off to their front left, and the wooded area to their front right, the high ground of Drasenberg behind them. The crews were edgy, knowing they were about to meet the enemy for the first time. They had seen the remnants of the Cavalry Regiment, bruised and battered, pulling back. Some of the men who were suffering from the effects of nerve agent poisoning had been pulled well back, way behind the front line, closer to the city of Frankfurt. Casualties had been high: losses of up to sixty per cent for some of the squadrons. And those that had survived were in no fit state to fight. Also the survivors of the chemical attacks were still suffering from the consequences of the absorption of the lethal toxins, the after-effects persistent. Those that had survived, through being appropriately protected and with a small amount of luck, were exhausted and traumatised. Their recent battle was over, but there was no way they would entirely be released from duty by their generals. They had an opportunity to eat and sleep, rearm and repair their vehicles, then rest some more. There was no doubt that if Frankfurt was threatened, they would be quickly designated as a reserve and brought back into the fight, used as fire brigade troops or a stopgap to cover any Soviet breakthroughs. Should the battle go well for the US forces, they could also be pulled in and used as part of any counter-attacking force.

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