The Fall of America: Winter Ops (5 page)

BOOK: The Fall of America: Winter Ops
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“He is lining up for an attack!” the Lieutenant screamed.

“Pull off now!  Break off the attack!  You have Russians on the ground!  I do not have his radio frequency, sir!”  the Senior Sergeant yelled, his fear obvious.

“What to do?”  the medic asked.

“Split and all run in different directions, now!”  the Lieutenant said, and then began to run back the way he'd come.

The ground in the field suddenly erupted with clumps of dirt, rocks and grass being thrown ten feet into the air. Suddenly, Sergeant Volkov flew apart, with his arms, legs and torso ripped to pieces by the Gatling gun.  His whole body disappeared leaving behind a thick bloody red fog hanging in the air and very little of the man or his gear seen.

While this was happening, Morozov was running and talking to base in an attempt to get them to abort the attack. Once in the trees, he heard the pilot had just called in confirmation of over twenty dead Americans.

Livid, the Senior Sergeant yelled, “The sonofabitch killed just one man, base, and that one was a Russian!  Yes, sir. I wish to report Medic Sergeant Volkov, Borya, as killed by friendly fire.  I am

Bobcat 2, base, and I have no idea if the commander still lives or not.  I will look for him and have him contact you.  Out.”

The Russian aircraft flew over, along with his wing-man, and they rocked their wings in friendship. Senior Sergeant Morozov had to fight the urge to fire on the fast moving aircraft.  Soon they pulled up, and were out of sight in seconds.

“Lieutenant!  Are you alive, sir?”  he yelled.

“I am here, in the woods, but have sustained an injury.”

“Can you move?”

“Yes, but I cannot see.  I am blind, Sergeant.”

“I will come to you, sir.”  Morozov said and then thought,
damn me, this army life is out to kill me.  Once this tour is over, I am retiring, finding me a small apartment in Moscow and will drink myself to death.  I am getting too old to keep doing this crap.

CHAPTER 3

I
continued to move my group overnight and most were understanding, but a few younger members complained about no food or sleep.  There was about an inch of snow on the ground and it was cold, but the winds were slight.  Corporal Kerr told the youngsters to shut the hell up and to keep moving.

Finally, Private Kelly asked, “Corporal, when will we stop to eat and sleep?  I'm dog tired and need both.”

“We'll stop in the mornin', Private, just as soon as we reach the safe house. Right now the intelligence we have from the Russians is more important than when Private Kelly gets his beauty rest or eats his next meal.  Grow up some, son, and do the job fast, or you'll not be around next year.  Now, close your mouth and don't open it again unless I ask you a direct question.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Corporal.”

“Good, son, now saddle up, we've some miles to cover.”  Kerr replied, and then shook his head.

All went well as they moved, until around two in the morning, when Silverwolf neared and said, “Armor ahead, and I counted three Russian tanks. They're blocking a crossroad and I think about now, while everyone is asleep, is the perfect time to take them out. They had three guards, but my sharp steel blade took them out.  I suggest three of us move in, toss two grenades in each of the open hatches and then beat feet out of there.”

“See any infantry?”

“Yep, but only a couple of squads that I could see.  I crawled in close to kill the guards and not one of the men in the foxholes looked awake to me.  I say hit the tanks and then run down the western road, because it's lined with big oaks.  Then our attackers and the rest of the squad could meet, oh, say a mile west on the road.”  

“Joyce, slip a night scope on your rifle.  I want you to take out any machine-guns, officers, and NCO's for sure. Got that?”

“Simple, and I'll do the job right.”

“Sandra, I'll take Kerr and Scott with me. Since Scott speaks Russian, he might come in handy if someone challenges us.”  I then looked at Scott and said, “Leave all gear except your weapons and three grenades.  If you can, puncture the gas tanks and spare Jerry cans they always have on the sides of the tanks.  Let the gas leak for a good two minutes, then climb up, drop your hot eggs and then get the hell out of there.  No one climb on a tank until you see me on one. I want the rest of you to provide cover fire in the event things turn hot for us.  Any questions?”

Silence, because there were none.

“Okay,” I said, “Let's move, people, and now.”

It was snowing a bit harder now, which I hoped would help mask our movements to the tanks. If even one machine-gun opened up, we were dead meat.  I parted the brush, got down flat and crawled toward the Russian perimeter. I could see they were too far apart and unless I sneezed or farted loudly, I'd get through them.  I soon wiggled my way past a fox hole where both men were asleep and even snoring. I shook my head at their lax security, but suspected after tonight, that'd all change.  I'm sure some Russian Lieutenant or Captain would be shot or sent to a gulag for his poor performance here.

I took the center tank, so I'd be easily seen in the bad weather by both of the other men. I wanted our grenades dropped close to the same time.  I was growing apprehensive as I pulled my hunting knife and stabbed into metal containers holding diesel. I then climbed on the tank and from within the iron beast, I heard snoring and heavy breathing.

Glancing to my left and right, I spotted my men ready to drop their explosives. I then raised both hands, which held grenades, and then lowered them.  I pulled the pins from my grenades one at a time, held the levers down, and then centered them over the open hatch of the tank.  A split second after I dropped them, I heard both give a loud ka-clank sound as they struck the metal floor.

As I was moving from the tank, I heard a voice scream a warning in Russian, saw the front hatch for the driver open, and then heard the explosion.  I ran as hard as I could and then dropped to the ground and began to crawl fast.  Four other explosions were heard and then the ammunition and gas in my chosen tank exploded, sending a huge fireball high into the sky.  One-by-one the tanks blew and the last one blew its turret high into the air, where it tumbled as it fell back to earth. Three gigantic fireballs filled the sky and for hundreds of yards around the tanks, it was almost as bright as day.  What saved our asses were all the Russians watched the tanks burn and few looked away from the fire.  Then, thinking the attack had been from outside the perimeter, our enemies began firing into the woods.  

I saw one man, an officer by his movements, move up and out of his hole in the ground to direct fire.  No sooner had the Russian fire slowed a few minutes later, than I heard the loud bang of my sniper's rifle and the officer fell to the ground unmoving.  Three more times Joyce shot and each time a man died.  Finally entering the woods, I stood among the trees, and saw four bodies sprawled out on the snow-covered ground near the tanks.  I then ran toward the road on the north side, where I'd meet everyone else.  

When I arrived I discovered the other two were already there, along with rest of my squad.  I moved them into the bushes as we waited for Joyce.  Less than five minutes later, she joined us.  Without speaking, we moved north by west, using the stars to guide us.

It was during out first break, an hour later, that Joyce said, “Four confirmed kills for me tonight.  One was a Russian Captain, one a Senior Sergeant, and the other two were Privates that manned a machine gun.  Head shots for each of them.”

“Great shooting, Joyce, and that's four less Russians we'll to have face later.” Sandra said and then added, “It's not often we destroy three tanks and kill their crews without the loss of a single fighter.  It's been a good night for us.”

I stood, adjusted my pack and said, “Let's move, our break is over.”

It was an hour after dawn when we spotted the safe house back in some thick trees in the middle of what was once a national forest.  The house was once occupied by the senior park ranger for the area and it was isolated.  What worried me was it showed on all maps, but so far the Russians had not visited.

“Silverwolf, take Scott and the two of you make contact with those in the house.  I think walking to the door as a group is a good way to get our butts shot off.  Once they confirm who you are, return for us.”

“Will do; come with me, Scott.”  Silverwolf said as he moved toward the building, his rifle held at the ready.

Twenty minutes later, he returned and said, “Colonel Lee is in charge down there, and he said for you to get down there pronto, because the Russians are up to something, and he needs to look at the intelligence you gathered.”

“Alright everyone, let's move to the house and in a single file.  Once we get there, you'll be given food and a place to sleep.  I suggest all of you eat and then rest.  It may be a long day, depending on the Russians.”

Once in the house, there were a good twenty other partisans inside. I knew there was a sniper or two hidden outside, but where I had no idea.  Colonel Lee was a short man, just a little over five feet tall, thin, brown eyes, bald and wore black framed glasses. I extended my hand and we shook.

“Welcome to the group, again.”  he said and then smiled.

“Glad to be here, sir, and I have some Russian documents my man who speaks the language thinks are attack orders.  I personally removed them off the dead body of a Russian dispatch rider.  There are other documents as well, but we didn't go through all of them well.  Since the one paper looks like an attack order, I rushed to get here.”

“Very good, John, and I have plans for your group, no matter what the Russian papers say, but we'll discuss them after you've had something to eat and then some sleep.  You look like hell warmed over.”

“Yes, sir.” I said and then turned and walked toward Dolly and Sandra.  Dolly had remained here while we were gone and she was very happy I'd returned.  My last dog hopped and jumped on me when I neared her.  All my other dogs had been killed years before. I sat on the floor, with my back against the concrete wall.

Top walked over, tossed me an old MRE and said, “Colonel Lee, a direct descendent of General Robert E. Lee, is using one of General Lee's old plans against the Russians.  When Grant was riding Lee's ass hard toward the end of the war, the Confederate General sent out troops to raise hell, which meant the Union had to release some troops to find and fight the hell raisers.  Each group Lee could muster into service and release was sent out to make the Yank's think many large groups were involved, when in reality, they were few in number.  These groups would hit, move quickly, and then hit again in some unexpected location, which kept the Yanks off balance.”

I looked at Top and asked, “What does that have to do with me?”  I tore the plastic MRE package open and pulled out the entree.

“Your squad is going to be one of those groups.”

“How do we stay supplied and fed?”  I asked, then opened the pouch that held my beef patty.

“We'll send four extra men with you and they'll carry your supplies on bicycles.  During the Vietnam War, the north Vietnamese used bikes to pack supplies, and you'll be surprised how much can be carried by just two wheels.  They'll pack it to a spot you desire, dig a hole, and bury it for you.  When you need food or ammo, dig it up.  I suggest you dig three or four holes, away from each other, so if one is found you don't lose it all.”

I took a bite of my meat, chewed and then asked, “When is this to start?”

“You'll leave in the morning, but we want you near the old town of Pearl, Mississippi.  Roam, kill Russians, and stir the pot up as much as you can. With over a dozen squads doing the same thing in central Mississippi, we hope the Russians will pull some troops to hunt for y'all.  If possible, terrorize the enemy and be as bold and nasty as you can.”

“How many Russians stationed at Pearl?”

“Our last estimate was five thousand, but we know some were pulled for the operation the Russians are running southeast of Jackson.  While we don't have a clear count, I was told by Colonel Lee just a few over two thousand are still there.  Truth be told, your guess is as good as mine.”

“Any special targets?”

“No specifically ordered targets.  Of course, any fuel tanks, supplies, or storage facilities should be taken out if you can do so with minimum risk.”

I thought for a moment and then asked, “Avoid gulags?”

“I've given them some thought and think if you can, attack them hard, because they'll use up manpower hunting for all that may escape.  Again, weigh the human cost to you very carefully before any major attack.”

I spooned the last of my meat into my mouth, opened up a bag containing cookies and as I pulled one out, I said, “Top, I'll do my best.  Are we to come back here after a certain amount of time or meet someplace else?  How long am I to operate alone like this?”  I took a huge bit of the hard cookie, which was a rare treat.  I gave the other one to Dolly.

“You will stay for one month, or until the Russians stop their operation.  Return here, but if we need you before then, one of the men with the bicycles will know where you are, so we'll fetch you.  Also, mark your location on a map one of the bike men will carry, so we'll have it on file.”

I was tired and not just physically, but emotionally as well.  I asked, “Top, do you see an end to this bullshit, or are we going to fight forever and all of us die in the end?  Do you honestly think we can beat the Russians?”

“I think we'll win, but it may take years.  Look at the length of the war in Vietnam or when the Russians invaded Afghanistan and you'll see it didn't happen overnight, but in both cases, the larger and stronger army eventually left.  Will you and I see it happen?  I honestly don't know, but as an American I'll be damned if I will let anyone invade my country and do nothing.  I think most Americans want to resist, but some are too old, some have no military skills, and others may not be healthy enough to fight.”

“I hear you. You know, I often dream of America like it used to be, the land of plenty, and now we either fight or we're dead. The Liberals are all dead or have changed their method of thought.  I was told most of the prisoners in a gulag last an average of three months.  Hell, they have no clothing, some lack shelter, 900 calories a day, no blankets, no doctors and no medical help at all.  I read in a report that over five hundred a day die in the Jackson gulags alone, most from sicknesses.  That's almost 200,000 people a year and from one prison alone.”

BOOK: The Fall of America: Winter Ops
11.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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