//This chapter makes a lot more sense if you have played through Chapter 1 first. Play Chapter 1 of ''Another Color of Hope'' <a href="http://www.philome.la/kwheaton/another-color-of-hope-chapter-1" target="_blank">here</a>.//
Chapter 2 (Mechanics)
The first round was a lucky shot. It landed squarely on the TOC, blowing a hole in the overhead cover. Subsequent rounds landed outside but the hole allowed shrapnel and debris to rip through the air around the soldiers. Jackson could hear them cry out as they were hit. He hugged the earth and turned his head a bit to look at Fraser.
Fraser was curled in a ball, holding his Unit One Pack on his head as if it were a shield. Each impact would send another round of computer parts and pieces of loose equipment raining down on top of them. Bits of paper drifted in the air only to be blown away with the next explosion. The roof finally gave way under the bombardment and the rafters came crashing down on top of the already wounded soldiers on the other side of the TOC.
The shelling lasted for less than a minute but the TOC was no longer recognizable. Jackson had dropped between two storage canisters and this had protected him from some of the larger pieces of debris. He could barely hear but otherwise he was in one piece.
[[Crawl to Fraser to check on him.]]
[[Get up and look around.]]
Jackson crawled the few feet to Fraser. "You OK?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Fraser unconvincingly. The only soldiers who ever get used to being shelled are the ones in movies, thought Jackson.
"We better get moving," said Jackson.
"Yeah, OK." Fraser's eyes came into focus and he wiped the dust from his face as he got to his knees. Jackson stood up and extended his hand to help his friend to his feet.
The moans and cries from the wounded seemed to finally penetrate the fog that surrounded them both and Fraser grabbed his Unit One Pack and headed toward the nearest wounded soldier.
The collapsed roof let in a harsh, cold wind. Fraser grabbed his jacket, rifle and the rest of his gear. The base had been the target of some light mortar shelling on and off for months but this felt like something different.
Trying to figure out what that "something" was would be difficult, though. The artillery had done a good job of ruining the TOC. Through the smoke and dust, Jackson could see First Sergeant Ramos on the other side of the TOC pulling soldiers out of the debris and giving orders. Even with the ringing still in his ears, Jackson could make out some of what Ramos was saying.
[[Assess the damage to the TOC]]
[[Report to the First Sergeant]]Jackson stood up slowly, brushing the debris off as he rose. He looked around and finally spotted his jacket, rifle and the rest of his gear. He quickly retrieved all of the items and inspected them briefly before putting them on. He had been lucky. Both he and his gear were still in one piece.
He couldn't say the same for the TOC, though. The hole in the roof was letting in a harsh, cold wind and dust and smoke were still swirling in the air. Jackson could see Fraser starting to get up and, through the buzzing in his ears, he could hear First Sergeant Ramos shouting orders on the other side of the TOC.
[[Assess the damage to the TOC]]
[[Report to the First Sergeant]]Jackson looked around at the wreckage. Weak emergency lights illuminated the kind of destruction only a precisely targeted artillery strike could cause. Smoke and bits of paper hung in the air pushed around by the occassional breath of ice cold wind in the dark of the night.
Fraser was busy splinting Rodriguez's fractured leg. Miller hadn't made it. It looked like a shell fragment or a piece of rafter or who knew what other random bit of death had ripped open the left side of his face and neck. Jackson hadn't known Miller very well. He had just arrived in country last wek. Jackson looked away.
His desk, his computer, were crushed by one of the fallen rafters. Certified against a 48 inch drop, shock, vibration, EMP, rain, dust, temperature extremes and an "explosive atmosphere" (whatever the hell that meant), the hardened notebook was no match for some PBX and a 400 pound chunk of wood. Few of the computers in the TOC seemed to have escaped damage but there was no guarantee that there would be any comms even if they did. They were on their own for now.
Jackson looked over at where First Sergeant Ramos was giving orders. Jackson like Ramos. He was a no bullshit, straight shooter who kept things under control even when it was getting FUBAR. Like now.
"Jackson!" shouted Ramos, "Quit fuckin' standin' around and get over here!"
[[Report to the First Sergeant]] Jackson picked his way across the debris to the First Sergeant. The other soldiers still able to fight had gathered around Ramos in a loose circle. There were suprisingly few, thought Jackson.
"Listen up," said Ramos, "We've been hit hard. The old man's hooch took a direct hit and his wasn't the only one. It looks like they've scouted us pretty good and knew where to hit us where it hurt the most." Ramos paused. "And it's likely to get worse before it gets better, right, Jackson?"
Jackson shook his head in agreement. "They are probably worried about counterbattery fire and are moving their arty to a secondary firing position. Once they get set up, we should expect another round of shelling." The counterbattery radars and their supporting artillery were located at another nearby base. They were good but Jackson doubted that they would be able to pick up the enemy rounds in this weather. The enemy wouldn't know that, though, and would move their artillery just to be safe.
"And then?" said Ramos.
Jackson took a deep breath. "Then they attack."
"What do you think they are going to throw at us?" asked Ramos.
"They spent a lot of time scouting our positions and they waited for a dark, snowy night. They likely mean to overrun the base."
Ramos looked lost for only a second before he noticed the nervous faces waiting for orders. "Nguyen, Carter," said Ramos pointing at the two most senior non-commissioned officers in the room, "I need you to take half of these guys each and scout out some new fighting positions. We have to assume that they have all our current posiitons in their target list already. Fraser, finish up with Rodriguez and then scout the base for any other wounded."
Jackson made a move to go with Sergeant Nguyen when Ramos called him back.
"Jackson, I need you here." Ramos waited for the other soldiers to move out before he spoke again. "Walk me through this IPB," said Ramos, pointing with his flashlight at a small section of the wall map that had survived the shelling. Intelligence Preparation of the Battlefield had been in use by intelligence analysts since World War II but it was still a good way to see how terrain, weather and enemy tactics worked together to give insight into what an enemy was likely to do next.
"There are only two ways into the base, Top," started Jackson. "One is through the mountains to the northeast and one is up the main road, from the west."
[[Tell Ramos about the mountain approach.]]
[[Tell Ramos about the main road approach.]]
[[Figure out where the attack is likely to come from]]
"You've been up in those mountains, Top. They are pretty difficult to get through even in normal circumstances. The snow and dark are going to make them rough going."
"But not impossible?" asked Ramos.
"No, not impossible, just tough. The passes offer great cover but they are pretty narrow. Hard to move a lot of troops through them quickly."
"We're running out of time, Jackson. Figuring out which way they are coming from is your job."
"Roger, Top. We've got ground sensors set up in those passes. I'll check the readouts in just a second." The Army had been using ground sensors since Vietnam. These small, hidden devices picked up the vibrations caused by movement in an area and sent that info back to base, often providing crucial advance warning of enemy troops moving into an assault position.
[[Tell Ramos about the main road approach.]]
[[Figure out where the attack is likely to come from]]"The main road is a pretty easy avenue of approach. It's wide and relatively flat. Cover is good in most places but not as good as the mountains."
"So, you think this is where they will come from?" asked Ramos.
"Not sure, Top. I'd like to check some things before I make a call."
"Make it quick, Jackson. We don't have much time."
"Roger that."
[[Tell Ramos about the mountain approach.]]
[[Figure out where the attack is likely to come from]]"Any chance they will come from both directions?" asked Ramos.
"Virtually certain that they won't," said Jackson. "They don't have a lot of forces in this area and they always concentrate their forces when they attack. Their command and control is not that good, anyway. Probably couldn't coordinate a two-pronged attack even if they wanted to in this weather."
"Damn good thing. I only have enough troops to defend one approach anyway." Ramos turned away from the map. His flashlight landed on Fraser who was just finishing with Rodriguez. "Fraser, you still here?" said Ramos, then without waiting for an answer, "Rodriguez, can you fight?"
"Yes, First Sergeant," said Rodriguez weakly. "If you can help me get to where I can see 'em, I can shoot 'em."
"Jackson, you've got ten mikes to figure this out. No more. That next arty strike is going to turn the TOC to rubble. Understand?"
"Roger," is what he said but he was thinking, how the fuck do I do that? Jackson looked around the ruined TOC. Ten minutes is more than enough time to find what little useful info remained here but what should he do after that? He looked at Fraser for support. Fraser looked back, shrugged his shoulders and said, "Look for the jewels?"
"Fuck you," said Jackson.
"Enough," shouted Ramos as he moved to exit the TOC. "Fraser, grab Rodriguez. I need every //pendejo// I can find on the front lines. Jackson, ten minutes and then you come find me."
"Roger, Top," said Jackson as he turned back into the wreckage hoping to find enough information to figure this one out.
(Set: $Clues = 0)
[[Check the ground sensors in the mountain passes.]]
[[Check the map for more information.]]
[[Check your notes on enemy tactics.]]
(Set: $Clues = $Clues+1)
The good news was that Jackson found the UGS station - short for Unattended Ground Sensor - relatively undamaged and with plenty of backup battery life left. The bad news was the one line entry at the top of the feed, "System Offline", entered shortly after the barrage had begun.
It didn't really surprise Jackson. The crazy weather and rough terrain often made it damn near impossible to get a reading. Soldiers had spent several years learning how to place the sensors such that they wouldn't get buried in frequent avalanches and would still have a clear line of sight to the Iridium satellite network they used to communicate with the TOC. That, coupled with the arty barrage, probably caused the malfunction.
Jackson quickly scrolled through the readings taken before the system went down. He soon found what he was looking for. Ground vibrations that looked a lot like foot traffic. Up to nine...somethings...about an hour before the shelling began. People? Goats? A small avalanche? Jackson couldn't know. All the video of the area was nothing but frost and white.
Why hadn't the alarm gone off earlier? The system had an automatic alarm feature. Ah, thought Jackson, as he stared at the screen, the UGS specialist had set the sensitivity on it to 10. Damn! One more "something" and we would have had some warning.
Still, there weren't any other readings before or after, thought Jackson, and nine soldiers were hardly enough to attack the base. It's just an indicator, a fact; one of many that need to be put together to make an estimate.
[[Check the map for more information.]]
[[Check your notes on enemy tactics.]]
(if: $Clues >= 3)[ [[You've done all you can. Find Ramos and brief him.]]]
(Else-if: $Clues<3)[ [[There is still more evidence to find! Leave and find Ramos anyway.]]](Set: $Clues = $Clues + 1)
Jackson looked hard at the tattered map. He could still see recent annotations in dark, thick, grease pencil indicating the last known locations of enemy forces.
Hmmm, thought Jackson, as he traced a route with his finger across the map. That's a damn long hike through some rough terrain if they want to attack through the mountains. The main road was much closer.
[[Check the ground sensors in the mountain passes.]]
[[Check your notes on enemy tactics.]]
(if: $Clues >= 3)[ [[You've done all you can. Find Ramos and brief him.]]]
(Else-if: $Clues<3)[ [[There is still more evidence to find! Leave and find Ramos anyway.]]](Set: $Clues = $Clues + 1)
Jackson shined his flashlight on the rubble that used to be his desk and laptop. There was no chance that the computer would work but that wasn't what he was looking for. Jackson tried to move the remains of the rafter that had crushed his desk and computer but it would hardly budge. Looking around desperately, he quickly found a two-by-four and chunk of rubble to create an improvised lever.
"There you are!" shouted Jackson as the rafter rolled off the crushed desk. Ignoring the flattened laptop, Jackson grabbed his small spiral bound notebook which had managed to survive the barrage.
Jackson had developed the habit of writing short, paragraph long analyses of patterns he saw in enemy activities. He knew he had written one recently about how the enemy liked to attack in precisely these kinds of situations but he wanted make sure he remembered it all correctly before he briefed Ramos.
Jackson found the entry quickly. The enemy like to attack across a wide front in a sudden rush in limited visibility conditions. Once the first wave had found or created holes in the defenses, a second wave would focus their attack on the holes in order to get into the base.
[[Check the ground sensors in the mountain passes.]]
[[Check the map for more information.]]
(if: $Clues >= 3)[ [[You've done all you can. Find Ramos and brief him.]]]
(Else-if: $Clues<3)[ [[There is still more evidence to find! Leave and find Ramos anyway.]]]Jackson left the ruined TOC and began to pick his way in the dark toward the center of the base where he hoped he would find Ramos. The wind had died but the snow continued to fall, quickly covering much of the devastation from the recent artillery attack.
Top is going to want an answer, thought Jackson. I need to stop and think, put all this together and come up with an estimate. Jackson looked around, trying to make out landmarks in the dark and snow. Up ahead, he could barely see the Shade Rock and he made for it quickly.
No one remembers who came up with the name, "Shade Rock", but when the unit had arrived in the high heat of summer, it had made perfect sense. Next to the dining hall, the rock was wide with a flat, slightly angled north side that created a nearly perfect spot to get out of the brutal summer sun. Jackson needed a spot to stop and collect his thoughts and the Shade Rock seemed about as good as he would find.
Jackson sat facing the flat surface of the rock and pulled his jacket up over his head. He was using a red filter on his flashlight but he didn't trust it. He didn't want to risk any light giving away his position. Pulling out his notebook and pen, he tried to focus on what he knew but his mind kept racing in circles. He didn't like admitting it but he was tired and stressed and scared. Really scared. Even if he got it right, it was going to be a fight to hold the base. If he got it wrong, they would likely end up dead. The enemy didn't take many prisoners.
If only I had a way to structure all this info, some way to logically think through the impact of each of the facts I have to work with, thought Jackson. "Find the jewels!" said Jackson quietly to himself. He smiled. He liked Fraser but what a dumbass.
Jackson flipped back and forth through his notebook, turning over each detail in his mind but making little progress in his thinking. Could "find the jewels" actually work? This isn't some stupid dream, thought Jackson. But it is kind of the same thing...
[[Try the "Find the jewels" technique.]]
[[Give up and go find Ramos.]]Jackson left the ruined TOC and began to pick his way in the dark toward the center of the base where he hoped he would find Ramos. The wind had died but the snow continued to fall, quickly covering much of the devastation from the recent artillery attack.
Top is going to want an answer, thought Jackson. I need to stop and think, put all this together and come up with an estimate. Jackson looked around, trying to make out landmarks in the dark and snow. Up ahead, he could barely see the Shade Rock and he made for it quickly.
No one remembers who came up with the name, "Shade Rock", but when the unit had arrived in the high heat of summer, it had made perfect sense. Next to the dining hall, the rock was wide with a flat, slightly angled north side that created a nearly perfect spot to get out of the brutal summer sun. Jackson needed a spot to stop and collect his thoughts and the Shade Rock seemed about as good as he would find.
Jackson sat facing the flat surface of the rock and pulled his jacket up over his head. He was using a red filter on his flashlight but he didn't want to risk any light giving away his position. Pulling out his notebook and pen, he tried to focus on what he knew but his mind kept racing in circles. He didn't like admitting it but he was tired and stressed and scared. Really scared. Even if he got it right, it was going to be a fight to hold the base. If he got it wrong, they would likely end up dead. The enemy didn't take many prisoners.
If only I had a way to structure all this info, some way to logically think through the impact of each of the facts I have to work with, thought Jackson. "Find the jewels!" said Jackson quietly to himself. He smiled. He liked Fraser but what a dumbass.
Jackson kept turning over each detail in his mind but made little progress in his thinking. He could have gathered all the facts but, for some reason, he just didn't. He should have stayed longer. No time to go back now, he thought. He was just going to have to make a call with what he had. He got up and raced into the night to find Ramos.
[["The attack is likely to come through the mountains."]]
[["The attack is likely to come up the main road."]]"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ramos as Jackson pulled back the poncho covering a gaping hole in the side of a battered CONEX. The "Container Express Box System", or CONEX, had been used since the 50's to transport goods to the front lines. Gradually, both military and civilian organizations had begun to find alternative uses for the containers and, by the time of the Balkan wars of the 1990's, CONEX's were used for everything from storage to shelter to makeshift hospitals. This one, or what was left of it, had been used to store food for the dining facility. Now Ramos had turned it into an improvised command center.
"Brief me," said Ramos. Nguyen and Carter were in the container as well, awaiting any insight into the upcoming attack.
"It is likely they will attack via the mountains," said Jackson.
Ramos looked hard at his analyst. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.
"I'm not," said Jackson, and then, noting the look of concern on Ramos' face, "There's a lot going on, Top, and basically I'm guessing. I wish I had a better answer but I don't. I'm sorry."
"OK," said Ramos. "We stay put where we are and wait till we know the direction of the attack."
Carter looked confused. "But Top, if that artillery gets lucky it could take us all out if we stay bunched up."
"Yeah," said Ramos "and if I move you into the wrong positions we are just as dead. Find whatever cover you can and stay there until the shelling ends. We will try to move to our secondary fighting positions once we have a better idea which way they are coming."
Nguyen and Carter looked at each other. Neither of them liked this plan.
"We have radio contact with HQ and reinforcements are on the way but they won't get here for two hours. We need to hold until then." Ramos paused. "Any questions?" The CONEX was silent. "Move out!"
[[The Gold Star]]Jackson pulled his pen out of his pocket and quickly drew three columns in his notebook. He was painfully aware that his ten minutes were almost up. He knew the shelling would begin again soon but he also knew that the worst thing he could do was give Top a bad answer. I've still got some time left, thought Jackson. Better put it to good use.
He listed the evidence he had gathered in the first column. Next, he put the two options, the approach through the mountain and the approach via the main road, at the top of the other two columns. Finally, he went row by row and scored each piece of evidence, R for ruby - bad, or at least inconsistent with that approach - or E for emerald - good, or consistent with the enemy choosing that approach. In the end, his table looked like this:
{
<table>
<tr>
<th>Evidence</th>
<th>Mountains</th>
<th>Main Road</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Road is easy to advance</td>
<td>R</td>
<td>E</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Mountains hard to move through</td>
<td>R</td>
<td>E</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>UGS picked up movement</td>
<td>E</td>
<td>R</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Road is closer to enemy</td>
<td>R</td>
<td>E</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Enemy attacks on wide front</td>
<td>R</td>
<td>E</td>
</tr>
</table>
}
Jackson sat back for a second and looked at his chart. Put this way, it seemed obvious what to do. Jackson flipped off his flashlight, adjusted his coat against the wind and moved out to find Ramos.
[[Find Ramos and tell him the attack will likely come up the main road.]]
[[Find Ramos and tell him the attack will likely come through the mountains.]]
I'm wasting time, thought Jackson. "Go find the jewels" is just a stupid dream. I don't know what I am going to tell Top but I guess I'll just figure it out once I get there. There were only two options - the mountains or the main road - maybe something will come to me. Jackson certainly hoped so as he pulled himself together and raced off through the snow to find Ramos.
[[Tell Ramos the attack will likely come through the mountains.]]
[[Tell Ramos the attack will likely come up the main road.]]"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ramos as Jackson pulled back the poncho covering a gaping hole in the side of a battered CONEX. The "Container Express Box System", or CONEX, had been used since the 50's to transport goods to the front lines. Gradually, both military and civilian organizations had begun to find alternative uses for the containers and, by the time of the Balkan wars of the 1990's, CONEX's were used for everything from storage to shelter to makeshift hospitals. This one, or what was left of it, had been used to store food for the dining facility. Now Ramos had turned it into an improvised command center.
"Brief me," said Ramos curtly. Nguyen and Carter were in the container as well, awaiting any insight into the upcoming attack.
"It is likely they will attack via the main road. It's fits their tactics better and it is easier for them to get to. UGS picked up some movement in the mountains but nothing else tracks with that approach," said Jackson.
Ramos looked hard at his analyst. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.
"Moderately confident," said Jackson, and then, noting the look of concern on Ramos' face, "There wasn't a lot of info left in the TOC and I didn't have much time to find what was there. Moderate confidence is the best I can do, Top."
"OK," said Ramos. "We need to move into position now. We focus our defense on the main road. Carter you take the right side of the main gate, Nguyen you take the left. I'll be with the reinforcements and we will position ourselves behind and to the right of Carter in case Jackson is wrong about the direction of the attack. Move into the secondary positions you scouted and get the claymores out in front if you have time. Stay under cover until the shelling ends and then wait till you can see the first wave before you open up. We have radio contact with HQ and reinforcements are on the way but they won't get here for two hours. We need to hold until then." Ramos paused. "Any questions?" The CONEX was silent. "Move out!"
Ramos turned to Jackson. "Good job. You're my runner now." Ramos started thinking out loud. "Where do I want you? Down with Carter or back here with me?" Jackson knew where he wanted to be and decided to push his preference.
[["I think I should be with Carter."]]
[["I think I should start here with you."]]"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ramos as Jackson pulled back the poncho covering a gaping hole in the side of a battered CONEX. The "Container Express Box System", or CONEX, had been used since the 50's to transport goods to the front lines. Gradually, both military and civilian organizations had begun to find alternative uses for the containers and, by the time of the Balkan wars of the 1990's, CONEX's were used for everything from storage to shelter to makeshift hospitals. This one, or what was left of it, had been used to store food for the dining facility. Now Ramos had turned it into an improvised command center.
"Brief me," said Ramos curtly. Nguyen and Carter were in the container as well, awaiting any insight into the upcoming attack.
"It is likely they will attack via the mountains. Everything points toward the main road but we picked up some movement in the mountains about an hour ago on UGS. My gut tells me that is the way they will come," said Jackson.
Ramos looked hard at his analyst. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.
"There wasn't a lot of info left in the TOC," said Jackson, "and I didn't have much time to find what was there."
"OK," said Ramos. "We need to move into position now. We focus our defense on the mountains. Carter you take the right side of the mountain pass, Nguyen you take the left. I'll take Jackson, Fraser, Rodriguez and a couple more soldiers and form a reserve. We'll position ourselves behind and to the left of Nguyen in case Jackson is wrong about the direction of the attack. Move into the secondary positions you scouted and get the claymores out in front if you have time. Stay under cover until the shelling ends and then wait till you can see them before you open up. We have radio contact with HQ and reinforcements are on the way but they won't get here for two hours. We need to hold until then." Ramos paused. "Any questions?" The CONEX was silent. "Move out!"
[[A flag in the window]]"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ramos as Jackson pulled back the poncho covering a gaping hole in the side of a battered CONEX. The "Container Express Box System", or CONEX, had been used since the 50's to transport goods to the front lines. Gradually, both military and civilian organizations had begun to find alternative uses for the containers and, by the time of the Balkan wars of the 1990's, CONEX's were used for everything from storage to shelter to makeshift hospitals. This one, or what was left of it, had been used to store food for the dining facility. Now Ramos had turned it into a improvised command center.
"Brief me," said Ramos curtly. Nguyen and Carter were in the container as well, awaiting any insight into the upcoming attack.
"It is likely they will attack via the mountains. We picked up some movement in the mountains about an hour ago on UGS," said Jackson.
Ramos looked hard at his analyst. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.
"Frankly, not very," said Jackson, and then, noting the look of concern on Ramos' face, "There's a lot going on, Top. It could be goats or an avalanche but I don't have a way to wrap my head around this. I'm sorry."
"OK," said Ramos. "We need to move into position now. We focus our defense on the mountains. Carter you take the right side of the mountain pass, Nguyen you take the left. I'll take Jackson, Fraser, Rodriguez and a couple more soldiers and form a reserve. We will position ourselves behind and to the left of Nguyen in case Jackson is wrong about the direction of the attack. Move into the secondary positions you scouted and get the claymores out in front if you have time. Stay under cover until the shelling ends and then wait till you can see them before you open up. We have radio contact with HQ and reinforcements are on the way but they won't get here for two hours. We need to hold until then." Ramos paused. "Any questions?" The CONEX was silent. "Move out!"
[[Another Gold Star]]"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ramos as Jackson pulled back the poncho covering a gaping hole in the side of a battered CONEX. The "Container Express Box System", or CONEX, had been used since the 50's to transport goods to the front lines. Gradually, both military and civilian organizations had begun to find alternative uses for the containers and, by the time of the Balkan wars of the 1990's, CONEX's were used for everything from storage to shelter to makeshift hospitals. This one, or what was left of it, had been used to store food for the dining facility. Now Ramos had turned it into an improvised command center.
"Brief me," said Ramos curtly. Nguyen and Carter were in the container as well, awaiting any insight into the upcoming attack.
"It is likely they will attack via the main road," Said Jackson.
Ramos looked hard at his analyst. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.
"Frankly, not very," said Jackson, and then, noting the look of concern on Ramos' face, "There's a lot going on, Top. I don't have a good way to wrap my head around it all. I'm sorry."
"OK," said Ramos. "We need to move into position now. We focus our defense on the main road. Carter, spread your troops across the entire main gate approach. Nguyen, give half your troops to Carter and spread the rest across the mountain approach. I'll be with the reinforcements and we will position ourselves in the middle in case Jackson is wrong about the direction of the attack.
Nguyen and Carter looked at each other. "Top," Carter said at last, "I don't have enough troops to defend that whole front." Nguyen shook his head in agreement.
"I know," said Ramos. "Once we figure out which way they are coming, one of you needs to be prepared to move out the help the other. Understood?"
"Understood," they both said but neither of them liked the plan.
"Move into the secondary positions you scouted and get the claymores out in front if you have time," said Ramos. "Stay under cover until the shelling ends and then wait till you can see the first wave before you open up. We have radio contact with HQ and reinforcements are on the way but they won't get here for two hours. We need to hold until then." Ramos paused. "Any questions?" The CONEX was silent. "Move out!"
Ramos turned to Jackson. "Your my runner now." Ramos started thinking out loud. "Where do I want you? Down with Carter or back here with me?" Jackson knew where he wanted to be and decided to push his preference.
[["I want to be with Carter."]]
[["I think I should be with the reinforcements."]]"Where the fuck have you been?" said Ramos as Jackson pulled back the poncho covering a gaping hole in the side of a battered CONEX. The "Container Express Box System", or CONEX, had been used since the 50's to transport goods to the front lines. Gradually, both military and civilian organizations had begun to find alternative uses for the containers and, by the time of the Balkan wars of the 1990's, CONEX's were used for everything from storage to shelter to makeshift hospitals. This one, or what was left of it, had been used to store food for the dining facility. Now Ramos had turned it into an improvised command center.
"Brief me," said Ramos curtly. Nguyen and Carter were in the container as well, awaiting any insight into the upcoming attack.
"It is likely they will attack via the main road," said Jackson.
Ramos looked hard at his analyst. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.
"I'm not," said Jackson, and then, noting the look of concern on Ramos' face, "There's a lot going on, Top, and basically I'm guessing. I wish I had a better answer but I don't. I'm sorry."
"OK," said Ramos. "We stay put where we are and wait till we know the direction of the attack."
Carter looked confused. "But Top, if that artillery gets lucky it could take us all out if we stay bunched up."
"Yeah," said Ramos "and if I move you into the wrong positions we are just as dead. Find whatever cover you can and stay there until the shelling ends. We will try to move to our secondary fighting positions once we have a better idea which way they are coming."
Nguyen and Carter looked at each other. Neither of them liked this plan.
"We have radio contact with HQ and reinforcements are on the way but they won't get here for two hours. We need to hold until then." Ramos paused. "Any questions?" The CONEX was silent. "Move out!"
[[The Gold Star]]"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he moved into one of the secondary fighting positions with Carter.
Their position was a good one. The overhead cover was not as thick as the primary positions but it was far better than being in the open. They had clear lines of sight down the main road and would be able to effectively engage any forces that appeared there. There are going to be a lot more of them than there are of us, thought Jackson, but that is what Claymores are for. Like ground surveillance systems, the Claymore mine had been around since Vietnam. Unlike the ground surveillance system, it hadn't changed much in 50 years. It was still a brutal antipersonnel mine that, when detonated, sent hundreds of tiny metal balls out in a 60 degree arc, shredding anything in its path.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was savage but only somewhat effective. Top had been right. The enemy arty pounded the primary fighting positions, leaving the secondary positions almost completely untouched.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted almost immediately. As Jackson had forecast, the enemy had come up the main road. The soldiers waited in their fighting positions, carefully watching the gun flashes in the dark as the enemy fired into the now empty primary fighting positions.
Misinterpreting the lack of return fire as evidence of a destroyed or defeated force, the enemy soldiers finally broke cover and began to rush the base. Out in the open, their dark, moving bodies were easy targets against the white snow. The Claymore mines killed or surprised many of them and forced them into "kill boxes" where Carter and Nguyen could concentrate the light machine gun and rifle fire of their troops. They had been at the mercy of simple arithmetic - lots of them is greater than a few of us - but Jackson's analysis had flipped that equation on its head.
Jackson fired round after round into the compressed enemy formation. It wasn't long before the attack lost all its momentum and Jackson felt Carter's hand on his shoulder. "I can't reach Top on the radio," said Carter. "Get back to his position and tell him we got these bastards and he should bring up the reserve. We can crush them here and now."
"Roger," said Jackson. Grabbing his rifle, he left the safety of the fighting position and sprinted toward nearby cover and Ramos.
[[Another Day]]
"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he moved into one of the secondary fighting positions with Ramos.
Their position was a good one. The overhead cover was not as thick as the primary positions but it was far better than being in the open. They had clear lines of sight down the main road and would be able to effectively engage any forces that appeared there. There are going to be a lot more of them than there are of us, thought Jackson, but that is what Claymores are for. Like ground surveillance systems, the Claymore mine had been around since Vietnam. Unlike the ground surveillance system, it hadn't changed much in 50 years. It was still a brutal antipersonnel mine that, when detonated, sent hundreds of tiny metal balls out in a 60 degree arc, shredding anything in its path.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions, to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was savage but only somewhat effective. Top had been right. The enemy arty pounded the primary fighting positions, leaving the secondary positions almost completely untouched.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted almost immediately. As Jackson had forecast, the enemy had come up the main road. The soldiers waited in their fighting positions, carefully watching the gun flashes in the dark as the enemy fired into the now empty primary fighting positions.
Misinterpreting the lack of return fire as evidence of a destroyed or defeated force, the enemy soldiers finally broke cover and began to rush the base. Out in the open, their dark, moving bodies were easy targets against the white snow. The Claymore mines killed or surprised many of them and forced them into "kill boxes" where Carter and Nguyen could concentrate the light machine gun and rifle fire of their troops. They had been at the mercy of simple arithmetic - lots of them is greater than a few of us - but Jackson's analysis had flipped that equation on its head.
Jackson was in a good position to watch the enemy attack break in front of Carter and Nguyen's concentrated fire. It wasn't long before the attack lost all its momentum and Jackson felt Ramos's hand on his shoulder. "Get down to Carter and Nguyen and tell them the reserve will be passing through their lines in 5 mikes. We have them on the ropes. Now we crush them."
"Roger," said Jackson. Grabbing his rifle, he left the safety of the fighting position and sprinted to nearby cover as he picked his way to the front lines.
[[Another Day]]
"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he moved into one of the secondary fighting positions with Carter.
Their position was a good one. The overhead cover was not as thick as the primary positions but it was far better than being in the open. They had clear lines of sight down the main road and would be able to effectively engage any forces that appeared there. There are going to be a lot more of them than there are of us, thought Jackson, but that is what Claymores are for. Like ground surveillance systems, the Claymore mine had been around since Vietnam. Unlike the ground surveillance system, it hadn't changed much in 50 years. It was still a brutal antipersonnel mine that, when detonated, sent hundreds of tiny metal balls out in a 60 degree arc, shredding anything in its path.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions, to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was savage but only somewhat effective. Top had been right. The enemy arty pounded the primary fighting positions, leaving the secondary positions almost completely untouched.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted almost immediately. As Jackson had forecast, the enemy had come up the main road. The soldiers waited in their fighting positions, carefully watching the gun flashes in the dark as the enemy fired into the now empty primary fighting positions.
Misinterpreting the lack of return fire as evidence of a destroyed or defeated force, the enemy soldiers finally broke cover and began to rush the base. Out in the open, their dark, moving bodies were easy targets against the white snow. The Claymore mines killed or surprised many of them and forced them into "kill boxes" where Carter could concentrate the light machine gun and rifle fire of his troops. They were still at the mercy of simple arithmetic, though - lots of them is greater than a few of us. The rest of Nguyen's troops would have been a big help in this fight but Jackson's lack of confidence in his analysis had led Ramos to hedge his bets and leave half of Nguyen's troops facing the mountains.
Jackson fired round after round as the enemy continued to press the attack. Suddenly, Jackson felt Carter's hand on his shoulder. "I can't reach Top on the radio," said Carter. "Get back to his position and tell him he needs to bring up the reserve now or they are getting through."
"Roger," said Jackson. Grabbing his rifle, he left the safety of the fighting position and sprinted towards nearby cover and Ramos.
[[Live to Fight...]]
"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he moved into one of the secondary fighting positions with Ramos.
Their position was a good one. The overhead cover was not as thick as the primary positions but it was far better than being in the open. They had clear lines of sight down the main road and would be able to effectively engage any forces that appeared there. There are going to be a lot more of them than there are of us, thought Jackson, but that is what Claymores are for. Like ground surveillance systems, the Claymore mine had been around since Vietnam. Unlike the ground surveillance system, it hadn't changed much in 50 years. It was still a brutal antipersonnel mine that, when detonated, sent hundreds of tiny metal balls out in a 60 degree arc, shredding anything in its path.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions, to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was savage but only somewhat effective. Top had been right. The enemy arty pounded the primary fighting positions, leaving the secondary positions almost completely untouched.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted almost immediately. As Jackson had forecast, the enemy had come up the main road. The soldiers waited in their fighting positions, carefully watching the gun flashes in the dark as the enemy fired into the now empty primary fighting positions.
Misinterpreting the lack of return fire as evidence of a destroyed or defeated force, the enemy soldiers finally broke cover and began to rush the base. Out in the open, their dark, moving bodies were easy targets against the white snow. The Claymore mines killed or surprised many of them and forced them into "kill boxes" where Carter could concentrate the light machine gun and rifle fire of his troops. They were still at the mercy of simple arithmetic, though - lots of them is greater than a few of us. The rest of Nguyen's troops would have been a big help in this fight but Jackson's lack of confidence in his analysis had led Ramos to hedge his bets and leave half of Nguyen's troops facing the mountains.
Jackson was in a good position to watch the enemy attack slow but not stop. It wasn't long before Ramos began to be worried and tapped Jackson on the shoulder. "Get down to Carter and tell him I will be bringing the reserve down in 5 mikes."
"Roger," said Jackson. Grabbing his rifle, he left the safety of the fighting position and sprinted to nearby cover as he picked his way to the front lines.
[[Live to Fight...]]
"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he and Fraser searched for some place safe to ride out the coming attack.
They finally found a shallow shell hole next to a half destroyed CONEX. On the somewhat dubious theory that lightning and, by extension, artillery never strike the same spot twice, the two soldiers started digging in. The frozen ground did not give way much and the best the two could do was to pull some of the torn up sheet metal from the CONEX over their heads.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions, to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was brutal and effective. The soldiers, in their hastily prepared fighting positions took a number of casualities immediately as unprotected flesh met high explosives and shrapnel. Jackson watched Rodriguez and two other soldiers turn into red mist and body parts as their position took a direct hit.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted. The attack had come up the main road but it didn't really matter anymore. Ramos tried to lead some of the soldiers to positions that would block the enemy's advance but took a bullet instead. Nguyen took command and abandoned the original plan in favor of a defense in place.
There were simply too many of them. Without the benefit of good analysis, the soldiers had been unable to focus their defense. Without a focused defense, they were at the mercy of simple arithmetic - lots of them is greater than a few of us.
It turned out that Jackson's position was a good place to watch the battle unfold. He was able to hear most of Nguyen's commands until he went quiet. Carter, too, was silenced in the flash of a grenade, silhouetted briefly against the explosion and snow.
Fraser took a bullet early and bled out, moaning and crying, as Jackson applied pressure bandages in vain. His bloody hands kept slipping after that as he fired clip after clip into the dark. Finally, his grenades gone, his ammo spent, Jackson pulled his knife and waited for a chance to run. He had no idea how he would escape but he had promised his mother she would not hang a gold star for him.
Before he could move, though, two of the enemy appeared in front of the fighting position. He lunged at one with his knife but missed. The other fired a short burst, each round hitting him and knocking him backward into the hole. The Kevlar stopped one but two found their way through his armor.
Last thoughts of the dying are always incoherent and Jackson's were no different. As he closed his eyes for the final time, he thought of his mother. "I'll have to tell her," ran slowly through his fading conscience, "that I was wrong."
End of Chapter 2.
//You deserve a better ending than this. Reload the chapter, make better choices and live to fight another day.//
"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he and Fraser moved into one of the secondary fighting positions Ramos had designated for the reserve.
Their position was a good one. The overhead cover was not as thick as the primary positions but it was far better than being in the open. They had clear lines of sight into the mountains and would be able to effectively engage any forces that appeared there. The narrow passes between the rocks and the difficulty of the terrain would make the enemy harder to hit but it ensured that they would not be able to simply rush their positions and overwhelm them.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions, to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was savage but only somewhat effective. Top had been right. The enemy arty pounded the primary fighting positions, leaving the secondary positions almost completely untouched.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted almost immediately. Unfortunately, it was coming from behind jackson. The enemy had come up the main road! Ramos tried to lead the reserve to positions that would block the enemy's advance but took a bullet instead. Nguyen took command and reoriented his soldiers so that they could help the reserve, now outnumbered and pinned down by heavy enemy fire. Carter abandoned his useless fighting positions and began to move his forces towards the main gate. They, too, quickly went to ground behind whatever cover they could find as enemy bullets and grenades increasingly took their toll.
There were simply too many of them. The poor analysis had led to bad decisions and the soldiers had focused their defense in the wrong direction. They were now at the mercy of simple arithmetic - lots of them is greater than a few of us.
It turned out that Jackson's position was a good place to watch the battle unfold. He was able to hear most of Nguyen's commands until he went quiet. Carter, too, was silenced in the flash of a grenade, silhouetted briefly against the explosion and snow.
Fraser took a bullet early and bled out, moaning and crying, as Jackson applied pressure bandages in vain. His bloody hands kept slipping after that as he fired clip after clip into the dark. Finally, his grenades gone, his ammo spent, Jackson pulled his knife and waited for a chance to run. He had no idea how he would escape but he had promised his mother she would not hang a gold star for him.
Before he could move, though, two of the enemy appeared in front of the fighting position. He lunged at one with his knife but missed. The other fired a short burst, each round hitting him and knocking him backward into the hole. The Kevlar stopped one but two found their way through his armor.
Last thoughts of the dying are always incoherent and Jackson's were no different. As he closed his eyes for the final time, he thought of his mother. "I'll have to tell her," ran slowly through his fading conscience, "that I was wrong."
End of Chapter 2.
//You deserve a better ending than this. Reload the chapter, make better choices and live to fight another day.//
"You always think your cover is good enough until the shells start to fall." His old drill sergeant had shouted that at Jackson in an attempt to motivate him to dig deeper into the hard-packed soil of Ft. Sill, Oklamoma. It hadn't worked particularly well at the end of a 20 mile ruck-march in 100 degree heat but it was bouncing around inside Jackson's head today as he and Fraser moved into one of the secondary fighting positions Ramos had designated for the reserve.
Their position was a good one. The overhead cover was not as thick as the primary positions but it was far better than being in the open. They had clear lines of sight into the mountains and would be able to effectively engage any forces that appeared there. The narrow passes between the rocks and the difficulty of the terrain would make the enemy harder to hit but it ensured that they would not be able to simply rush their positions and overwhelm them.
The wait seemed to last forever. Jackson knew that some of the other soldiers were probably starting to hope that the attack would never come, that it was all a false alarm. Jackson knew better. It was just taking them longer to reposition their artillery in this weather. The enemy had not gone through this much effort, planned in this much detail, waited this long for the right night, the right weather conditions, to back off now.
And Jackson was right.
The shelling, when it came, was brutal but only somewhat effective. Top had been right. The enemy arty pounded the primary fighting positions, leaving the secondary positions almost completely untouched.
The shelling ended and the gunfire erupted almost immediately. Unfortunately, it was coming from behind Jackson. The enemy had come up the main road! Ramos tried to lead the reserve to positions that would block the enemy's advance but took a bullet instead. Nguyen took command and reoriented his soldiers so that they could help the reserve, now outnumbered and pinned down by heavy enemy fire. Carter abandoned his useless fighting positions and began to move his forces towards the main gate. They, too, quickly went to ground behind whatever cover they could find as enemy bullets and grenades increasingly took their toll.
There were simply too many of them. The poor analysis had led to bad decisions and the soldiers had focused their defense in the wrong direction. They were now at the mercy of simple arithmetic - lots of them is greater than a few of us.
It turned out that Jackson's position was a good place to watch the battle unfold. He was able to hear most of Nguyen's commands until he went quiet. Carter, too, was silenced in the flash of a grenade, silhouetted briefly against the explosion and snow.
Fraser took a bullet early and bled out, moaning and crying, as Jackson applied pressure bandages in vain. His bloody hands kept slipping after that as he fired clip after clip into the dark. Finally, his grenades gone, his ammo spent, Jackson pulled his knife and waited for a chance to run. He had no idea how he would escape but he had promised his mother she would not hang a gold star for him.
Before he could move, though, two of the enemy appeared in front of the fighting position. He lunged at one with his knife but missed. The other fired a short burst, each round hitting him and knocking him backward into the hole. The Kevlar stopped one but two found their way through his armor.
Last thoughts of the dying are always incoherent and Jackson's were no different. As he closed his eyes for the final time, he thought of his mother. "I'll have to tell her," ran slowly through his fading conscience, "that I was wrong."
End of Chapter 2.
//You deserve a better ending than this. Reload the chapter, make better choices and live to fight another day.//
It was dawn and the snow had stopped. Ramos and Jackson were standing on the little hill that overlooked the battlefield. They could both see the Bradley fighting vehicles containing the reinforcements moving up the main road toward the gate.
They weren't really necessary now, of course. The fight had been over for an hour. Ramos had executed a textbook assault on a supressed and demoralized enemy and they had surrendered, fled or died in place. Other than the initial artillery attack which had caught them by surprise, the base had suffered remarkably few casualties.
Ramos looked over at Jackson. "Good job," he said.
That was high praise coming from Ramos and Jackson knew it. He was feeling something else, though. "Top, if it hadn't been for you, none of us would have made it."
Ramos looked back toward the rest of the unit, now busy repairing positions, guarding prisoners or getting patched up at Fraser's makeshift aid station. "It was a team effort, Jackson, it always is." He paused and then turned back, looking Jackson in the eye. "But it all starts with good intel. I've been in the Army a lifetime and I know that doesn't mean collecting info just to have it gather dust. It means figuring out what that info means and then being able to make a call with some confidence. I don't really care what the enemy did or what they are doing now. I need to know what they are likely to do next. I don't know how you figured it out. I don't know what methods you intel analysts use. But I do know it worked. Remember it."
End of Chapter 2.It was dawn and the snow had stopped. Ramos and Jackson were standing on the little hill that overlooked the battlefield. They could both see the Bradley fighting vehicles containing the reinforcements moving up the main road toward the gate.
The fight had been over for an hour but the base was in no position to withstand another assault. Ramos had brought up the reinforcements just in time. Casualties had been heavy. Neither Carter nor Rodriguez had made it and Fraser had been hit as well. Between the initial artillery attack and the assault, the soldiers had been lucky to hold the base.
Jackson looked at Ramos. He was thinking something and he needed to say it. "Top, if it hadn't been for you, none of us would have made it."
Ramos looked back at what was left of the base. "It was a team effort, Jackson, it always is." He paused and then turned back, looking Jackson in the eye. "But it all starts with good intel. I've been in the Army a lifetime and I know that doesn't mean collecting info just to have it gather dust. It means figuring out what that info means and then being able to make a call. I don't really care what the enemy did or what they are doing now. I need to know what they are likely to do next. We got lucky this time - you got lucky this time. You need to figure out how to think better or next time..." The fire went out of Ramos' voice and he turned and walked away.
End of Chapter 2.
//You deserve a better ending than this. Reload the chapter, make better choices and live to fight another day.//