Authors: Lloyd Tackitt
“Acknowledged.” Adrian said just as quietly.
Linda said, “It’s time for me to join our Militia, Adrian. Please, please stay here. We desperately need you to have clear sight of the battle and to direct troops as needed. Promise me you’ll stay.”
Adrian desperately wanted to keep Linda with him, but knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He gave her a long kiss. “Be safe,” he said, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. “And come back to me unharmed.”
Linda touched his face, her hand resting there for just a moment, then turned and walked away.
Adrian watched with a sadness he couldn’t give words to as she disappeared down the hill side. Immediately after Linda was out of sight the girls came closer to him. They each had binoculars and would assist Adrian in watching from the row of foxholes at the top of the hill, and would report to him anything he needed to know about. It was the best he could think of to keep them out of harm’s way, and to make them useful as well. Bear was at his side, seeming to know the import of the moment. A long hour later he watched as the cartel army began crossing the river.
They came across in a wide column, looking like a huge army of ants from Adrian’s vantage point. They muddied the water, the brown silt stirred by the thousands of feet staining the river as it flowed downstream. It took them over half an hour to complete the crossing and move up the bank on to the Texas side of the border four hundred yards before stopping again, just as Adrian had hoped they would. They had crossed barefooted and would need time to put on their dry socks and boots, get organized for the next move.
As soon as the last wave was across, Adrian picked up his radio, “Ground One to Air One, hit them hard. And remember, our troops are close by in position, as previously described. Over.”
“Air One to Ground One, we’ll be overhead in three minutes. We’ll be careful of your position Ground One, no worry there. Out.”
Two minutes later Adrian could hear the faint rumbling of the four F-16’s approach. As predicted at the third minute the first jet roared as it came in low and slow. Adrian watched the cartel army looking up with panic-stricken faces. Some of them shouldered rifles and began firing at the jet. He saw the F-16 release the cluster bombs and watched as they popped open in mid-air scattering the small bomblets. Explosions ripped through the cartel’s ranks, fire balls erupting in a long trail that started at the front line of the Mexicans and extended to the river. Men’s bodies cartwheeled through the air. Just as the explosions ended but before all the bodies had fallen, the next jet was coming in and releasing its bombs. Adrian watched and this time he didn’t see anyone firing at the jet, instead they were desperately seeking cover, any cover.
Adrian spoke into the battle communications radio, “Execute, Execute, Execute!”
The three groups of combined companies began wheeling into position, all of them on trucks. Group A was lining up directly in front of the enemy in a broad line. As the trucks wheeled into position the troops dismounted and spread into a line. Group B did the same on the left front and Group C on the right, along highway 277. Timing was critical, Adrian didn’t want his troops to be too close when the next two jets dropped their bombs, but he didn’t want them to get there too late to contain the panicked cartel army.
Jet Three screamed in and dropped more bombs, timed perfectly to begin erupting just seconds after the previous explosions. Then the fourth and final jet came in, this time dropping napalm. Adrian watched calmly as he watched the fire storm of jellied gasoline spread over the enemy troops. He didn’t envy anyone that kind of pain and death, but it was effective and effective was what counted. The fire had the added benefit of stripping away the brush and trees limbs that hid some of the men, not only killing but also clearing the field for better vision for what was to come. As the flames died down a little, Adrian saw his troops moving in on the three sides, boxing the enemy in with the river to their back. He watched a flawless execution, the Texans rapidly moving into place and spreading out at the right distances from each other, firing immediately into the shocked and confused enemy ranks.
The Mexicans were better disciplined than he had hoped for; in spite of the pounding from the air, they were quickly moving into battle formations. He saw men dropping rapidly as the Texan’s rifle fire poured into them, but still they formed into a solid group and began moving towards Group A in an attempt to break out of the box. As they moved forward, the Texans closest to the river began moving forward as well, leaving the river open behind the Mexicans. This was part of the plan: to move and flow with the enemy, but to leave them the inviting aspect of crossing back over.
Right on schedule, Adrian saw Group D, the river boat trucks moving into hidden positions across the river.
Excellent, just as they were supposed to. The final surprise.
Chapter 27
A
drian continued to watch and
listen to the radio as each company called in and moved, describing their position. He had wished for more air cover, but the round trip back to the carrier to reload was too long, and would give the enemy too much time to regroup. It was all up to the ground pounders now.
The Mexicans were taking steady and deadly fire from the Texans, Mexicans falling by the scores. He saw Texans falling as well, and saw the medical corpsmen rush to their aid, placing them on stretchers and moving them back to the field hospital using pickup trucks as ambulances. The Mexicans either couldn’t give aid to their wounded under the intense fire being poured into them.
With a discipline that Adrian found admirable, the Mexicans continued to pull into formation and move towards the front line, and there were still too many of them, way too many. Adrian, never one to underestimate an enemy was ready for this. He called on his radio “Bear to Mobile One, move into position with Group A, reserve four trucks for Groups B and C. Over.”
“Mobile One to Bear, moving out now. Out.”
Before the trucks could get there, a group of twenty or so Mexicans broke through the line and came straight at the hill Adrian and the girls were on. The Texans quickly closed the gap in a fierce, blistering fight, holding the rest of the Mexicans in the box. Adrian watched the Mexican group, expecting them to turn and fire at the Texans from the rear, but they didn’t, they hauled ass as fast as they could, still heading straight towards Adrian’s hill.
“Stay down!”Adrian commanded. The girls did as told, keeping their heads low as they put down their binoculars and pointed their rifles down the hill at the oncoming Mexicans who had apparently spotted them. Adrian hoped they would deflect off, but having seen what was happening to their comrades they appeared to be on a mission to cut off the snakes head, as they still came straight at the hill. Adrian remained standing where he could see the battle better.
One of the approaching Mexicans stopped to aim and fire, the bullet making a sonic crack as it went by Adrian’s head. The girls in the foxholes immediately began to return fire. Several of the attackers fell, the rest diving for cover. Adrian knew he should take cover, but he needed to see the battle clearly so he remained standing.
“Rangers! Keep the fire on them hot and heavy, I want their heads down so I can stay up and see the battle.” The girls immediately began firing more rapidly and Adrian could see where the bullets were hitting all around where the men had taken cover.
Within two minutes Adrian observed the armored pickup trucks armed with chain guns moving into the front line of Group A. The driver jumped out and took position in the back of the truck with the gunner to assist with ammunition feeding and also shooting enemy combatants with his rifle. The chain guns operated by an electric motor and could be fired at variable speeds of up to 570 rounds per minute. Adrian had elected to have them fire at a lower rate to give more control and to make the ammunition last longer. Each chain gun was equivalent, even at the lower rate of fire, to two hundred rifles being fired once per minute. They were also extremely frightening to face. Even at the lower speeds the tracers, one in every ten rounds, looked like a solid stream of fire, making targeting easy and intuitive for the gunner.
As the chain guns began firing into the enemy front lines, the number of bodies dropping increased dramatically. Within another minute, the two chain guns assigned to Groups B and C began firing into the enemy also. Between the infantry fire and the chain guns, the enemy’s position quickly became untenable; no matter how much discipline and drive they had, the rate of bullets flying into their packed mass was mowing them down at a phenomenal rate.
The Mexicans withstood the barrage from three sides for only two more minutes, then a general rout began developing along the back of their lines. They were faced with almost certain death if they continued or a chance to escape back across the river.
When Adrian saw the first group of men take off toward the river, he spoke into the radio, “Bear to Mobile One. Increase rate of fire on chain guns, go to maximum now!”
The chain guns all momentarily stopped firing as the gunners reset the motor speed to go to maximum firing speed, effectively tripling the rate of fire. Then they started firing again and the bodies dropped at a faster rate than before.
That will encourage the retreat
. And indeed it did. With a herd instinct, the remains of the cartel’s army turned and fled towards the river. Still taking intense fire they stumbled and fell over the fallen bodies, tripped over rocks and roots, scrambled to their feet and took off running again.
Adrian called into the radio “Group D take position and fire at will. Groups A, B, and C move forward as fast as they retreat. ”
He watched as the relayed message went through. The infantry started chasing after the retreating army, steadily pouring bullets into them. The chain gun trucks became mobile again, chain gun firing steadily as the truck advanced apace with the ground troops. Groups B and C began flowing towards the river, maintaining fire from the sides with deadly effect and keeping the routed army from trying to escape to either side. The Mexicans were herded into the river. Group D had pulled their trucks up to the river’s edge and as the Mexicans began entering the water poured deadly chain fire into them.
When the bulk of the Mexicans were in the river, Groups A, B, and C followed them to the river’s edge, continuing to fire into the fleeing mass of men. The carnage was absolutely brutal, men being hit and trampled as thousands of rounds a minute poured into them from both sides. Chain guns from Groups C and D cut them down along the outside edges of the fleeing troops, preventing them from escaping up or down river. The river flowed a dirty red from the blood pouring out of the now hundreds of injured bodies and the silt disturbed they their feet.
It took only three minutes once they were in the river. Minutes of continual fire from the Texans and only the occasional shot back at them as the men in the river knew their death was only seconds away and fired back more out of anger than any hope of being effective. Three long, horrifying minutes and then the firing came to a sputtering stop. The silence was incredible. It lasted a full minute, Adrian, even from where he was, could hear the wild jubilant shouting of the Texans.
He also noted that there was still a group of Mexicans creeping slowly up his hill.
Adrian now could take cover with the girls and got into the foxhole with Race. He told her, “They’re going to run or surrender or attack when we stop firing. Could go either way. They know there’s only enemy behind them now, so they’re deciding to try to get away or surrender or commit suicide. Tell the girls to cease fire but remain ready. We’ll give them a chance to surrender.”
When the girls stopped firing, the men below waited a moment, then they all stood and charged the hill firing as fast as they could. There were still over a dozen of them and they came running into the teeth of death with no real hope of surviving. Adrian yelled out, “Pick your targets and make every shot count!” Immediately the girls and Adrian began firing, and the Mexican men charging at them began falling. The last one died within feet of the foxholes.
Adrian called the girls out of their positions and Race got them into formation. “Rangers” Adrian said, “If you hadn’t been here I would be dead now. You have saved my life and I deeply appreciate it. Race, you’ve earned my trust again, fully. Now let’s get down to the battlefield and help our wounded.”
“How many men and women did we lose?” It was Adrian’s first question to the assembled commanders.
“One hundred and thirty three dead, three hundred and twelve wounded.” came the reply.
Adrian sat somberly for a few moments. “Nearly a quarter of our troops.” He paused for a few seconds and asked “Enemy casualties?”
“We’re estimating at this point sir, but it looks like over four thousand dead or critically wounded and about five hundred wounded that might survive. We’re giving them medical treatment as fast as we can, after we took care of our own first, but we’re giving them the best treatment we can. We have nearly five hundred prisoners. We think about two hundred escaped across the river.”
Adrian had issued orders that the Texans were not to deliberately fire on any clearly unarmed combatants trying to escape once they were in the river. That order had three reasons. To not place the Texans into a position of being mere executioners, to allow escape so that word of the disastrous results of the attempted invasion would spread far and rapidly, and to prevent as much as possible for any of the Texans to have doubts about the carnage they would wreak on the enemy. It was far from a perfect solution, but it was the best that could be done in the heat of battle and to assure victory as well.