Raid Squads
After the first few days of the normal camp routine, I quickly forgot about the leave that never was. Troopers with less than operable weapons were given those shotguns we picked up. I had always taken great care of my service rifle, even during crawls in the dirt to the 100 line. Nights interrupted by gunfire were the usual, and I was told that the Legion really did try a few daring raids while I was gone.
One of the 100 Yard lines was wiped out, and a Legion wave nearly made it to the trail head in one attack. After that, the winding path down to no man's land was mined even more, and more troopers were posted at the top around the clock. After that particularly bad incident while I was away, command had finally had enough with the 100 Yard Squad, and officially disbanded it, only to be replaced by another dangerous job/punishment. Even though the big brass of the Mojave still denied any offensive moves, our commanders installed a work around with "Raid Squads" or the job of "Assaulting Sand."
When a company is on the Observation line, they are still relatively safe from most of the dangerous jobs (Unless they got in trouble). However, the two companies off the line were reduced to one. One company was specially designated as a "Reserve Company" and they were in charge of taking any action if the line, or Raid Squad, a patrol, or observation station sees action no matter the time. When a trooper's patrol sees a Legion raid party leaving out the western cliffs, they are to pin them down if possible, while an alert trooper rallies a squad or two from the reserve company for aggressive action. Where the "Raid Squads" come in is during the evening.
The 100 Yard Line was used as a defensive force to counter any Legion night raids in no man's land before they could even reach the winding path. It seems that the command forgot that our enemy is best at offense because the 100 Yard Line was a thing for far too long. The Raid Squads took a better yet more dangerous approach.
Probably the only reason Forlorn Hope hadn't been overwhelmed by this point was because it was seated in a perfect rocky area. In order to even reach the trailhead, a legionary had to maneuver through over a mile of no man's land laden with our barbed wire, through the gunfire on the Observation line, and up the half mile "Winding trail" just to reach the trail head guards and camp proper over 400 feet above no man's land. The steep cliffs down to the Colorado made attacks from the east impossible, and the patrols through the western cliffs had that approach completely locked down. Finally, the north of us had that ranger station, and north of that was troopers and patrols spread along a line to the final crossing at Hoover Dam. The only true Legion approach was from the south, and we had that under firm but battered control. In order to counter the Legion's incessant attacks was to put us on the attack.
The new Raid Squads were again full of punished troopers and conscripts, but they had a simple task. I knew what it was like out there personally because although I wasn't punished again, I would eventually volunteer.
When a Raid Squad goes out into no man's, they are specifically ordered to dirty themselves up. Basically, a trooper will roll himself in the sand, cover his face with dirt or old brown boot polish (That we didn't have any other use for), goggle up, and grab a rifle before heading down. Once the weaponry really became a problem, I'd later be assigned a shotgun, but more on that later. As night fell, the raid team would take positions spread thin across the no man's and fire sporadically. One to three shots from each trooper every 30 minutes, all at different intervals. The dust and face paint was to better blend into the sands, or better conceal if a flare was shot, and the continuous shot or two every few minutes was to indeed let the Legion know that we were out there and ready. Each hour, the Raid Squad would advance a bit further into the no man's, so the Legion would feel like an attack was imminent. By around 0200, the Raid Squad would practically be on top of the Legion's watch posts around the cliff passes to Nelson. Continuing the charade of an actual attack, the occasional thunder of a grenade explosion rocked the night. The fragile and dangerous element of these nightly fake attacks came from balancing the amount of pressure with a possible response.
Where that term "Assaulting Sand" comes from was the fact that we were essentially raiding nothing. The troopers out there spend the whole night shooting at nothing as they advance under the darkness, keeping the Legion always waiting for the real deal. But, like I mentioned above, the balance was sometimes thrown off, and the Raid Squads were no longer just shooting at the dirt. More on that shortly.
So, I wasn't there for the first Raid Squad, but when the first one went out, we saw the same result as the first night of the 100 Yard Line; total success. The Legion didn't even know what to do at the peak of that first attack. NCR had never attacked Nelson directly since Forlorn Hope became the front. The Legion sentries fortified around Nelson had to awaken their commanders from their sweet dreams about murder and savagery only to find out they were being "attacked." As the Raid Squad receded into the night, the Legion was left confused. Although, it wasn't long before the Legion wised up and adapted, as they tend to do in their own brutal way.
The crackle of gunfire throughout the nights became a regular thing, and I was no longer awoken by that, unless it was two feet away and preceded by a "Send'em Out!." But, I mentioned the fragile nature of the Raid Squads' 0200 finales because as the Legion got used to the nightly fake assaults, they measured each situation. They seemed to be on edge, not knowing if this night or the next will be the "Real" attempt to take back Nelson. So, a few rapid accurate gunfire crackles, and maybe a grenade or two would be enough to keep them down. Any more than that, and there would be problems.
I was on night guard at the Observation line one night shortly after returning from leave when the Raid Squad was a bit too ambitious. I saw my watch (Courtesy of Stacy the Follower) show it was around 0200 and I awaited the climax before the tactical retreat. The usual volley of gunfire went off, one grenade boomed in the distance, then another, then another, and then another. Almost a full minute of gunfire, and nearly six grenades went off (Which is a long time if you think about it). Looking at the ranger in the western tower, I was waiting for some kind of news or order to be passed by the other night sentries, but the gunfire stopped. I figured the Raid Squad met with a Legion night raid, but no. Not yet. 30 seconds of silence after the 0200 symphony passed before another uproar.
Instantly, the ranger with his night vision saw something, shouted something over the distant rumble, one flare shot from the western tower, and then one flare shot from the Colorado tower. A trooper on the trailhead waved his order flag in the moonlight and shouted something down at the first trooper of the night guard. Another shout from that guy, and troopers on the western end of the line began firing south. The shout must've been "Send'em Out!" because I caught glimpse of troopers throw themselves out of dreamland as I reflexively slammed my rifle onto the line, and started my one half-mag. Soldiers startled by the sudden gunshots around them, joined the volley like so many other nights. I fired nearly half of my half magazine as the flares lit the no man's land. The raid team was still too far, and I wasn't sure if our rifles even had the range to do damage that far out. No telling who was who, the last of the Observation line finished their magazines, and asked each other what was happening while the dust settled and the flare contrasted landscape became clearer.
The dots in the distance began to collect themselves, but I saw four dots approaching. It became clear that the four dots approaching us were our guys, and that speculation was solidified by the ranger towers shouting, "Hold Fire!". The flares were nearly dead in the middle of no man's land as we watched.
Another flare was shot, and popped over no man's followed by another one 30 seconds later. The figures approaching were our guys alright, and they used the brightness of the gently falling flares to maneuver through the barbed wire. The real puzzling thing to all of us was why the gaggle of legionaries still remained at the far end of no man's land. Any other event like that would have been immediately seized to counter raid us, especially based on the size of that Legion response force. As the remaining troopers from the Raid Squad reached the bottom of the winding trail, most of us were still fixed on the congregated mass of legionaries standing motionless.
The last flare was about to die again in the center of no man's when a trooper down the line said, "Musta been New Mexican legios."