Chp. 3: Drop Zone Chateau
May 10, 1995
Over Southern Ustio
"Ten minutes!"
The phrase echoed down the cargo hold until the Jump Masters repeated themselves once more. McKaffey pulled down his goggles and grabbed the static line hook. He glanced towards one of his runners, a short-statured specialist, and waited until he glanced his way.
"Remember Willard, Air Assault!" He said with a huge grin.
"Air Assault, sir!" The young man replied.
"Air Assault, and remember to protect the family jewels!"
That got some laughs, but only a few before the JM on their side of the aircraft ordered for the outboard personnel to stand up. Echoing the order once again, McKaffey rose to his feet and spread them to stay balanced. The plane was in a deceptively uneventful state of flight, going steady and straight. He turned and faced towards the back of the aircraft with the rest of his "stick", hook in hand. The inboard troops stood up; McKaffey could see a red light come on, followed by the six-minute warning and one of the most important orders.
"Hook up!"
McKaffey barked back "Hook up!", then slid down part of the hook and captured the yellow line above his head in the loop it made.
"Check static line!"
No frays, no weak points, and the attachment to the hook was strong. The hook itself was closed and closed tight. McKaffey was already unconsciously going ahead with the next command.
"Equipment check!"
Of all the things he had on, McKaffey's two main concerns were that he had his helmet on right and his parachute was firmly attached to him. A poorly-worn helmet could do plenty of damage and losing his parachute made him shiver. He also checked the man in front of him for issues; Garrison checked McKaffey's back half when he was done helping Willard. When the command to sound off for the equipment check came down the bay, The General slapped a hand on the man before him's shoulder and barked "Okay!". The word went back up the line, devoid of the usual numbers with so many personnel aboard.
"All okay!" The Jump Masters barked in unison.
The men then opened the doors, letting in a massive rush of wind. The vicious howl overwhelmed the ears and made verbal communication impossible. McKaffey grabbed his static line and watched the red glow near the door intently. The man at the head of the outboard stick grabbed the frame and poked his head out. McKaffey could see intermittent flashes. Flak, SAMs? McKaffey figured the Belkans would still have something waiting down below. His thoughts were interrupted when the light at the front of the line turned green.
"Air Assault!" McKaffey barked.
He moved forward with the rest of the stick towards the door. It took less than half a minute to get up there. As he reached the door, he caught sight of a Starlifter sailing earthwards in flames. The rush of wind rendered the gut-wrenching image practically silent. His body worked on its own while his mind tried to rationalize the sight. Before he could get over the dying aircraft, he was out the door and falling into the night. With a sudden jolt, a dark-green canopy blossomed above him. He was over the first hurdle and whomever his guardian angel was, he was grateful to them…
Josh's eyes closed for just a second when his parachute opened. When he opened them, the screech of the wind had faded, replaced by his gasps for air. He was in the midst of an abyss, broken only by the stars above and the shooting below. There wasn't that much, actually. And none of it seemed to be getting close to him. He looked down and saw his equipment dangling beneath him, safe and sound. He looked around and spotted one of the C-141s as it was partly covered by a fireball, and reality came back into focus. He watched and watched until he realized that he was descending below the mountain tops. Josh looked down and squinted as terra firma faded into view. He put his legs together and kept his eyes downwards. When he felt his feet hit the grass, he let himself collapse to the side. He ended up on his back while his parachute and equipment settled down a short ways away from him. The landing still hurt a bit. Josh bit back a curse and rolled onto his knees. He rose for a second and then flattened again as he heard someone else hit the ground nearby.
"Star!" Josh hissed, grabbing the line for his gear as an afterthought.
"Comet! Ack, think I landed on my nuts." Alex replied through clenched teeth.
Josh hurried to the man and started freeing himself from his parachute straps. The two both squirmed about as they freed themselves from the T-10s and their unused reserve chutes. It was a small miracle that they found all their gear had survived the jump.
"Okay Sergeant, unless your legs are broken I wanna get us set up and ready to fight…" Josh began, stopping only to switch his goggles for his PVS-7s.
"...Start forming a skirmish line among those trees. Make contact with the pathfinders as soon as you can. I'll send guys your way as they approach."
"Will do, sir."
Alex pulled out his brand new M4 Carbine from its parachute bag and slapped in a magazine. Josh did the same with his M16A2 and covered his second-in-command while he got his kit and started gearing up.
"Star!" A voice called in a hushed tone.
"Comet!" Josh replied. One of his squad leaders, Henley, came running up.
"I got first squad assembled and ready, sir!" He reported.
"Then follow me Henley." Alex said.
The two tore off while Josh finished gearing up. He swung his rucksack's straps over his shoulders and started towards the nearest parachute he saw, hissing out "Comet" as he drew close. Each time he found a man from his platoon, he sent them towards their initial positions.
"Star!" A deep voice boomed from behind.
"Comet!" Josh replied as he turned around.
A tall, lantern-jawed bear of a man came out of the darkness, carrying an M4 loaded with fancy devices. On his chest was the winged torch of a Pathfinder, and on his collar the insignia of an O-3. Josh rendered a quick salute as the man introduced himself.
"Captain Rudy Schwegmann, 506th's Pathfinder Company. I'm looking for General McKaffey." He explained.
"Second Lieutenant Hazaki, 2-327th Infantry...He should be back that way and landing soon. Your guys the ones I'm supposed to link up with?" Josh replied, glancing to the north.
"Yes, until your parent company has established a proper skirmish line. You were given the frequency to reach me on, right?"
"Yeah, just gotta find my RTO in this mess. You see anyone with a radio on your way here?"
"Possibly, but I can't say for sure. I must go find the General; good luck and Air Assault."
"Air Assault."
Josh made sure he had all his stuff and moved back towards the treeline in search of more of his men. He spotted muzzle flashes at the same time the sound of small arms erupted from that direction. Josh flopped onto the ground and stayed down for a minute. He heard someone barking "Contact!" as he crawled forward through the knee-high grass towards the shooting.
"Star! 2nd Platoon, 2nd Platoon get moving towards the woods, go! Move it!" He barked as he crawled.
Josh repeated himself and repeated himself as he moved towards the trees. He switched it up by calling for the deployment of smoke to better cover his platoon's movements. The Lieutenant stopped and yanked an M18 smoke grenade from his web gear. He tossed it a short ways away and rolled onto his stomach and waited while a blanket of yellow mist slowly began to rise and spread. Despite the screen, he kept low and moved forward towards the shooting. On his way, he saw a shape through the grass. It became a man as he wiggled closer. The presence of a radio pack gave him a bad feeling, and upon reaching the man's side he realized it was indeed a familiar face. It was his RTO, Private O'Hana. Josh checked for a pulse, found none and crawled towards the man's gear. The radio had been assembled; he turned it on and grabbed the handset.
"Baker 2-1 this is Baker 2 Actual, Baker 2-1 this is Baker 2 Actual...come in, 2-1." He radioed.
"Go for Baker 2-1." Henley's RTO replied.
"Baker 2-1, request SITREP."
"Baker 2 Actual, 2-1 has run into hostile patrol of unknown size. Can confirm its footmobiles, how copy?"
"Baker 2 Actual copies all...be advised I'm sending help your way as I find it. Hold position until ordered otherwise, how copy?"
"Baker 2-1 copies all."
Second Squad's CO, Staff Sergeant Donovan, chimed in.
"Baker 2 Actual this is Baker 2-2 Actual. I've got most of my squad assembled, two wounded. I can send a fireteam 2-1's way, though."
"Send em! What's the status of your wounded?"
"Landed bad after the drop, but they'll live."
"Copy...Baker 2-3, Baker 2-4 either of you there?"
"Baker 2 Actual this is Baker 2-4...Actual is not in contact but I've met up with an MG team. We're moving to support Baker 2-1 and 2-2." A young voice spoke up.
"Baker 2-3 is assembled and enroute to strongpoint the perimeter as briefed."
"Baker 2 Actual copies all, break, Baker 2-1 be advised I'm coming to your position as soon as possible, how copy?"
"Baker 2-1 copies all!"
Josh eased the PRC-77 off the dead soldier and rolled O'Hana onto his back. Radio in one hand and fellow soldier's web gear in the other, he dragged the man towards the sounds of battle, keeping his head low. It grew easier as he gained momentum, until he saw the shapes of men once again. These ones were huddled on the ground in a thin grove of trees, M16s at the ready. He announced his arrival with a resounding "Star" and dropped to his knees when the RTO was close enough to the unit. He crawled forward, barking Alex's name until the man appeared at his side.
"Where's that patrol, Sergeant?" He asked. Alex flattened a hand and motioned to their left, towards a road a few hundred yards away.
"Number still unknown, but likely four to eight men. They're mostly just laying down fire, tried a few grenades on us. Just waiting for someone with a clean look or a 203 to-"
A hollow thoop interrupted them, then one more kept the conversation on hold. The report of M16s and SAWs followed, drowning out the snaps from what Josh recognized as G3s.
"...Do that." Alex finished.
"Alright, just means we can get back to digging in. We'll establish a CP by that big-ass tree, then I want you to leave your pack there and help get guys still in the DZ onto the line. If they're hurt, gather 'em over by O'Hana so Doc can treat 'em. Distribute ammo from any casualties." Josh replied.
"Will do, El-Tee."
Alex hurried off under covering fire from his CO. Josh barked for the platoon's medic and forward observer to fall in on him while he helped swat away the remaining resistance. The trio took cover deeper in the grove near the aforementioned tree and set up. Doc went about helping get O'Hana ready to be evacuated while Josh's FO, Sergeant Weatherby, crawled to the edge of the cluster and sunk down into some bushes. Josh was almost immediately on the radio, sending the word to squad leaders on where to position their men. When he had enough reporting in, he raised Henley once more.
"Baker 2-1 this is Baker 2 Actual, I need you to send two riflemen my way, how copy?"
"Baker 2-1 copies all, Actual."
"Good, break, Baker 2-4 this is 2 Actual, where are the rest of those 60s?"
"Ahh...standby, Baker 2 Actual."
"...Roger 2-4, show a little hustle."
Josh set his M16 nearby and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He put one of the lenses to his NVGs and scanned the quieting countryside. The smoke grenades deployed were starting to dissipate, their shroud thinning and thinning as they spread outwards. He heard rustling and responded to the challenge from two Privates.
"Alright you two, see that dip in the ground by those rocks? Establish an OP there and maintain visual on this position. If things get dicey, we'll give you covering fire and smoke." Josh explained as the two knelt down next to him.
The two soldiers hurried off while Josh sunk down and pulled out his map and a flashlight. As he was revising the planned advance into town, the radio came to life.
"Baker 6 to all Baker Actuals, report in." Captain Losch radioed. He grabbed the PRC's handset and keyed it once more.
"This is Baker 2 Actual, We encountered an enemy patrol but engaged and defeated them. Have established fighting positions as ordered and am waiting on reports that I've got all troops encountered for." He relayed.
"Copy 2, report back in when you have a firm headcount. Baker 6 out."...
Captain Dieter de Haan lowered his binoculars and motioned his radioman forward with a flick of the wrist. The Corporal hurried to the man's side and held out the handset to his PRC-320.
"Jaeger 6 this is Alpha 6, we've reached the end of the hiking trail; request permission to proceed further, how copy?" He whispered.
"Alpha 6, permission granted." The battalion commander's radio operator replied.
It was what he'd hoped to hear. The Captain, commander of Company A, 1st Battalion, 90th Airborne, was ecstatic about his change in mission. He and two other companies of Ustian paras had been ordered to help clear routes through the mountains and into Solis Ortus. He looked back at his nearest platoon leader and motioned to the left side of the trail. The man nodded and ordered two squads forward. One slipped into the woods while the other stayed closer to the road. De Haan motioned for the platoon he was with to follow him and apply the same tactics. He sprinted forward with the others over the craggy terrain for a few meters until the cough of a grenade launcher sent him diving for cover.
Muzzle flashes appeared from further up the slope, then the recognizable chattering of an MG3. Another grenade evoked screams of pain from men. De Hann's men. He rose from his position behind a tree and centered his FAL's sights on one of the flashes. He jerked back the trigger several times until he was forced back down, then emerged from the opposite side of the tree and fired some more.
"Get the M60s set up to fire!" He barked.
A second MG3 joined the fray as a pair of M60 teams ascended the slope towards the front. DeHaan ducked as the Belkan gunner cut a line through the trees. The nearest LMG team fell to the ground in a bloody heap. The Captain got on his stomach and pulled a rifle grenade from his web gear.
"Kieper, get on the radio and see if those Osean Apaches are inbound." He barked.
"Yes sir!"
De Haan slid the projectile onto the front of his rifle and barked for covering fire. Another explosion went off between the two sides, something more powerful than a grenade. Several more explosions and a high-pitched whistle revealed a mortar barrage to the Ustian paras. Most of it was off target, feeling about for their positions while the troops they were in contact with tried to zero in on them. One of the last shells exploded near enough to topple over a tree. The Belkans tried to rush to the Ustian positions after that. The Captain fired off his rifle grenade at the sight of the charge. He flattened himself once more, then rose as someone echoed that another M60 team was coming forward. De Haan glanced back and waved the men to him. He turned and gave covering fire to the men as they made it to a decent spot on the slope and set up to lay down some fire.
The Belkan attack fumbled and stopped well shy of its target. De Haan hammered away at enemy troops looking for cover. The two M60s raked the skirmish line with fire while riflemen advanced to help reinforce the line. De Haan estimated at least a platoon of Belkan troops descending on them. He saw one lob a grenade down the slope and called it out before diving behind the trunk. As he recovered, a second one exploded right where the newest M60 team had been. The Captain rose and fired several shots before he hurried to the first team that'd gone down. He hit the ground and moved the corpses out of the way to access the weapon. A quick check revealed it was ready to go, with a single "bag" of 100 rounds at the ready. The man lifted the weapon's butt to his shoulder and pulled back the trigger, spraying bursts across the treeline. A fellow para nearby fired off a rifle grenade, then led his fireteam to back the man.
Once the gun was dry, De Haan abandoned it and hurried to cover. The Belkan attack reeled back up the slope, but the line failed to break. As the Captain was considering his options, a few fresh mortar rounds landed nearby. His RTO rejoined him, firing a few rounds as he hit the dirt next to his CO.
"Captain, friendly aircraft are at least ten minutes out!" He shouted. De Haan snarled, then frowned and nodded in understanding.
"We can't move up with those MGs and mortars all over us. Dammit...We'll regroup at the base of the trail and wait for air support." He replied. The man accepted the handset and cleared his throat.
"Jaeger 6 this is Alpha 6, encountering fierce enemy resistance and are unable to advance. Request supporting fire to cover our retreat to the base of the trail, how copy?"
"Jaeger 6 copies all, pass along your coordinates and stand by."
De Haan let out a quick "copy" and pulled out his map. He barked for the men near him to deploy smoke and hold their position. The Belkans weren't letting up with the mortar fire, but De Haan wasn't ordering his company back down the slope while exposed.
"Alpha 6 to all Alpha elements, standby to retreat by platoon down the slope. Alpha 1 and 2 will move down to Alpha 3's current position in numerical order."
"Copy Alpha 6, standing by."
From his position some miles away, Colonel Van Hoz watched the smoke billowing from the trail with displeasure. One of his radios was tuned into the same frequency being used by the Company attacking up that slope, now retreating. General Saddler watched the same event as the first fight against the Belkan forces guarding their objective ended in loss. Friendly aircraft were six minutes out but the Belkans apparently had men to spare along the trail. It was hard to tell from here. He looked back to the tents he staff had set up while his counterpart kept his eyes glued to the fight.
"Smoke rounds are out, General." He commented. The man's long face turned towards him and scrunched into a scowl.
"I would like your permission to regroup and try once more. As far as I'm concerned we've paid for that trail and I intend to collect. Can you get me fire support for such an effort?"
"Gladly. Once you have your force assembled, I'll see about having gunships soften up the trail before you advance. If they're not available, we can employ some of Willard's arty once he has it set up."
Saddler looked back at the fighting retreat as 1st Battalion's commander ordered troops to strengthen blocking positions and prepare to accept wounded. It was going to be a long morning.
