Chp. 14: Gun Run
January 24, 2005
Last position of the landing ship Odeysseus
Lieutenant Bobby Henton watched as his diver, Petty Officer Headon, launched himself from the open door of the SH-60B. Able Seaman Strummer finished bandaging the head of one of their passengers and helped him to the far side of the cabin. The sailors and soldiers they'd picked up huddled together, shivering and trying to push away the trauma of what they'd just experienced. Henton could only look for a few seconds before he had to find something else to stare at; they looked completely broken. Headon swam to one of several survivors floating in the water and pulled him from a group huddled together for visibility. Henton sighed and keyed his boom mic.
"Jumper this is Rooster 1-2, we're about full here; what's your status?" He asked.
"Jumpers 3-1 and 3-2 are inbound, ETA two minutes." The pilot of a UH-1N Huey replied.
"Copy."
His co-pilot, Sub-Lieutenant Malachai Port, looked out of his windows and then raised a brow at his friend.
"What's got you so blue, Henpeck?" He asked.
"Look out the window and ask me that question again." Henton replied without emotion.
"Not the first SAR sortie we've done."
"A single air fairy who bailed over the drink is different than this, mate. Look at…"
He lowered his voice despite the engine noise.
"Look at these guys; they're barely alive. We grab five of them and leave the others behind. Each time we do I feel like I'm telling them "Hey sorry, but you're not important enough for this ride. Maybe next time." And we've got maybe another two trips before we can't get anymore on the boat. Get me?"
"Yeah, but those five are five less who are in danger. Five more we bring to a warm bunk and some help. I'm an optimist; sue me." Port replied, noting the pilot's frown.
Henton checked on Headon, then looked towards the sinking ship as a CH-47D lumbered towards another group of survivors floating in the water. Unlike Henton's small (but beloved) Seahawk, the big Chinook could take around fifty people. Even though he was looking in that direction, Port still tapped the pilot's side and pointed out the bigger helo as it descended to the water.
"Rooster 1-2 this is Moresby ATC, come in Rooster 1-2."
"Go for Rooster 1-2." Henton replied.
"Rooster 1-2, after you pick up your last charge, you're to return to the ship immediately. You'll get your new orders once you're aboard."
"Ahh copy, we should be off station any second. Strummer, how're we doing back there?"
"Headon's getting the last guy in the harness with him now, sir. Standby to lift." The young man replied.
Henton looked out his windows again and saw the diver lift a thumb. He worked a switch on his control stick and pulled the two from the water. Port looked back as he heard the side door slide shut and got a thumbs up from Strummer. He relayed that to Henton and they pulled away to see what new mission they had waiting for them…
Captain Drew had received the order he was reading over the radio, but he'd demanded it be sent to him in writing before he acknowledged that it was an order.
"This has to be some kind of bleedin' joke." He remarked to himself.
Joke or not, he turned to the men gathered around the central chart table in CIC and stuffed the paper in his pocket. The second he started talking, he took it far more seriously.
"Gents, we've been ordered to pull off from our current station and assist the landings on Crowne Beach directly. Along with the Ferdinand, we'll make runs parallel to the beach and engage targets with our 76mm gun. Our target will be four bunkers at the southern edge of the beach. Two act as observation posts and two house turrets for coastal artillery. Specifically, some ancient 240mm howitzers the Rusies dragged out of the grave. They've been using them to hammer Aucklin and Skully troops heading ashore. Mister Brighton?"
"Yes sir." The CIC Officer replied.
"Our 76mm can damage those bunkers, yes?"
"Yes sir. Fire should be concentrated at the viewports and the howitzer barrels for maximum effect. The gun's rate of fire will allow us to hammer them. I recommend at least four rounds per bunker each run."
"What do you recommend as far as range goes? I believe it can hit targets nearly sixteen kilometers away."
"Yes sir, but the ideal range is eight kilometers. I would further recommend that we move closer than that since we're using it in direct support of friendly troops. The gun's fire control will do a lot of the work, but we can't go too fast or else we'll have a much smaller firing arc."
"Our helicopters will provide assistance as well. Get men on the Big Eyes, too; I want everything we have available to direct the shots. Mister Hira?"
"Yes sir." The Navigator replied.
"I need a proper route for each pass."
"Sir…Commander Brighton, you mentioned the firing arc?"
"Yes. I would like to be angled slightly towards the coast when we move in, so we have more time to acquire and engage. I'll defer to your skills nonetheless, Lieutenant."
"Yes sir. How long do we have, Captain?"
"You've got thirty minutes. The Cordicovans are trying to link the two beaches and those bunkers are keeping Aucklin-Skully forces from keeping up their end of the bargain."
"What kind of return fire can we expect?"
"Those howitzers and anything else that can reach this far into the ocean. The threat of ASMs should be minimal for the time being."
"I can give you a route in a third of that time at most."
"That's something I like to hear, Mister Hira. Get to it."...
Leonard shifted against the ground and tightened his grip on his AUG, bristiling over the localized lull in combat. He was almost thankful it was the end of being off the line to get resupplied and reinforced. The fresh bodies would surely be needed, and for once he let himself hope that the air fairies wouldn't disappoint him. He glanced at Collins, who lifted his watch and tilted it towards the Lieutenant so he could see. The officer nodded and shifted again so he'd be ready to burst forth towards the treeline. It would be nice to have some better overhead cover, he thought. His gaze switched to the top of the hill that looked down on one of the Erusean garrisons, and the spot where a few remaining bunkers were able to see the whole area. He lowered an eye to his rifle scope, but saw nothing new. He checked his own watch and looked towards the sea. Just visible in the haze was the shape of a warship. A Seahawk made another pass further back, as it'd been doing for the past 15 minutes.
"Standby!" He hissed to his RTO.
"Standby!" Collins echoed.
The command went down the line just fast enough for the frigate to fire its first salvo. Leonard had expected the whistle of artillery, but instead he only got the sight and sound of the bunkers being hammered. He drew in a breath and lunged to his feet.
"First Section forward!"
Without his rucksack on, he felt like he was flying over the grass and sand. Gardener went to his left, followed by a Minimi gunner. The LMG spat out several bursts into the brush, but the Aucklin troops met no resistance until they pushed into the patch of eucalyptus. An Erusean rifle squad was waiting for the ISAF troops, who spotted them an instant before they opened fire. Leonard screamed out the contact and ducked behind a tree. The Minimi gunner tumbled forward and Gardener went flat. A pair of explosions went off, one catching the RTO almost right next to it. Leonard pushed up against the tree and rose to empty his magazine into the Erusean line. One of his MAG teams moved to the left flank and got behind some proper cover to hammer the enemy with their machine gun.
"Fuck you, Erusea! Get the hell outta our country, ya cunts!" Gardener roared in a pained voice.
"Save your breath, Gardener! Medic! Get a medic up here!" Leonard ordered.
The Eruseans retreated almost immediately after the insult. Collins couldn't help a laugh.
"Keep calling 'em cunts, Gardner! Works better than bullets." He offered, ignoring the lieutenant's scowl.
"Collins, take Hurei and his section and get moving; we'll stay on the left flank." Leonard commanded as he fed his weapon a fresh magazine.
Leonard emerged from behind the tree again and got to picking off the retreating Eruseans while Olivia hailed what was now 1st Section to follow him. Corporal Ferrison, their new medic, hurried past from behind and rolled the Minimi gunner onto his back. Seeing he was gone, the medic grabbed Gardener by his shoulder straps. He pulled the man out of harm's way behind a large bush and got to work. Leonard moved to his side to see if he could help; The young man had several chunks of shrapnel sticking out of his arm. His cams had been torn in several places or stained with blood.
"Least I'll die in my homeland. I missed ol' Aucklin." The RTO wheezed.
"Not if we get you down to the head shed's doc, mate. Sir, gonna need to borrow someone, unless you've got nothin better to do." His caretaker replied. Leopard's response was to key his mic.
"Bravo 1-3, this is Bravo 1 Actual, we need help carrying one of our wounded down the slope. Can you assist?" He asked.
"How many bodies do ya need, sir?" Lance Corporal Jim Trelawney replied.
"Two if possible."
In the meantime, He got to removing Gardener's radio (which had a large hole in the side) and what else he could so Ferrison could better treat the wounds. Ahead, Erusean fire was back to cutting through the woods as 2nd Section slogged its way up the hill. Leonard keyed his radio again as Ferrison's help appeared over the hill.
"Bravo 2 Actual this is Bravo 1 Actual, be advised that I've lost my PRC-119 and my RTO is wounded. Need you to help me relay to Bravo 6, how copy?" He asked.
"Copy that, 1 Actual; Bravo 6 says the ships should be in position to make another attack in three minutes." Finley replied.
Leonard started to move, then stopped and looked back at the wounded Corporal as the medic tried to remove what shrapnel he could.
"See you back at Company HQ, Gardener." He smiled.
"I'll keep the tinnies cold, sir." Gardener coughed.
Leonard turned to 1st Section and rejoined them as they made a steady push. Finley and 2nd Platoon committed to the attack, moving further left of their comrades to encircle the defenders at the top. He dropped to the ground as a rocket overshot his troops and crawled forward towards the hammering of one of his MAGs.
"Friendly coming in from behind!" He warned.
The two soldiers did nothing more than not shoot him, and he went to a knee to assess the battle that was raging. Part of 1st Section had crossed a footpath and had direct line of sight with the garrison's perimeter. The bunkers could still put out some fire, but not the amount they'd been able to before. Movement caught his attention as Erusean infantry came bounding down the hill. He raised his weapon and returned fire as they tried to establish a foothold.
"Bravo 1-2, what's your status?" He asked.
"Bravo 1-2 is making progress, 1 Actual. I think you've drawn them to the left." Collins replied.
Leonard was happy to hear that; it meant they'd get the hill sooner. He caught an Erusean rifleman trying to move forward, then ducked back to prepare a grenade. As he tossed it, familiar sounds echoed down from higher up. The frigates made their second run against the Erusean positions, though this time he could see the trails of rockets moving towards the sea from inland. He looked back at the two ships for an instant to watch them maneuver. Another grenade went off and drew his attention back to the immediate area. He popped out and caught a pair of Erusean troops moving to a new position. The MAG pushed back a small attack and gave Leonard the cover he needed to move to the front of the advance. He hit the ground just shy of the encampment's line of sight, where most of Olivia's men had dug in. The Sergeant himself was across the path, directing another MAG team to hit a trench shielding the base. There were three missile launchers that'd been damaged, but at least half a dozen KK62s and M85s were picking up the slack.
"Bravo 1-4, bring up two CG teams. Multiple MG nests got us pinned down near the entrance." He reported.
"They're on the way, Actual." Campbell replied enthusiastically.
"Copy!"
Leonard tossed another grenade towards the nearest bunker and fired a burst from the hip as he lowered himself. He laid on his back and shuffled up to keep firing while his request teams moved through the Erusean fire up the hill. A grenade went off at the top, followed by a second and then two more.
"Bravo 1 Actual this is Bravo 1-2 Actual, we're advancing on the top of that hill. Rusies appear to be retreating down the far slope towards the encampment. We've got at least one sniper out there somewhere covering the crest" Collins reported.
"Stay in cover, 1-2; if you see that sniper, relay it to Bravo 6."
Campbell himself arrived with the two recoilless rifle teams. Almost immediately, Leonard directed them to take his place and start putting rounds into the MG nests. He also hailed the MAG team to help establish fire superiority. One of the Carl Gustaf gunners rose to fire, and was struck down by a single bullet. Leonard froze for a second, but the man's finger was nowhere near the launcher's trigger. Campbell helped the groaning man down the slope while his ammo bearer retrieved the weapon. The second CG gunner looked at the Lieutenant, as if to ask if he should stand up now.
"Smoke, deploy smoke!" The Lieutenant said instead, looking down the line.
Despite the threat, he kept his torso exposed to scan the surrounding terrain. He fired a few more bursts at the MG bunkers and huddled down to ask Campbell where the gunner had been hit.
"Bravo 1-2 Actual, do you have any idea where that sniper might be? Has anyone been hit?" He added over the radio.
"One of the grenadiers took a graze atop his helmet, but he's alright otherwise." Collins replied.
"Understood, see if you can figure out where it might've come from. I'm going to see what we can do to flush them out."
With the smoke down, the other Carl Gustaf gunner could move around and fire. Though he had to fire at the muzzle flashes and hope he did damage. Leonard stayed down when his magazine was empty and took to the airwaves again. He paused, then looked at Campbell.
"Get any CG teams you still have up to Sergeant Collins and 2nd Section. Make sure they stay low until those snipers are dealt with." He outlined quickly. The man nodded and keyed his radio while Leonard went back to his.
"Bravo 2 Actual this is Bravo 1 Actual, we've made it to the enemy encampment but are under heavy fire from multiple positions. At least two snipers. Request you relay to Bravo 6 that we need fire support."
"Copy, we're on it."...
"Rooster 1-2, this is Moresby Conn. How do you read?" He asked.
"Receiving you loud and clear, sir!" Henton replied, doing his best to sound disciplined.
"We need you to locate a pair of snipers that are pinning down friendly troops in the area we're providing fire support. Relay their location the second you see anything."
"Understood."
Henton accepted without even really thinking, and by the time he caught himself it was too late. He stared at the beach with a grimace, then drew in a breath and keyed his mic.
"Strummer, Headon, close the door good and tight and hold on, we're moving in closer to the beach to look for some snipers." He said.
"You serious, sir?" Headon almost laughed.
"Damn right I am, now lock the door and keep ya head down!"
He looked at Port, he gave him a look. The kind that said "We really doing this, Hen?"
"Switch to the sights for our Hellfires. That way we can shoot back." He simply replied.
Henton exhaled and broke from his station above the frigate. He raised his altitude a few dozen meters and steadily increased the throttle. Another volley of artillery landed around the warship, throwing plumes of water at the helicopter. With the weather, it simply amalgamated into the many dots constantly forming on the windshield.
"Moresby CIC just wanna confirm, that yellow smoke is where you want us to search, yes?" He radioed.
"Copy that Rooster 1-2, look towards the hills to the west of the smoke. West of the smoke, inland."
Henton rested a finger on the countermeasures switch and checked to make sure his ALQ-144 was still active. He noticed Port's head starting to bob in some kind of rhythm. He cocked a brow at the man, who jarringly replied with the opening lines of Pink Floyd's "Dogs of War". Henton decided to let it go and banked his Seahawk to the left. He looked to the hills and saw tracers coming up. He dipped down, then nosed up to avoid them as he flashed by the fighting as fast as he could.
"You're moving too fast for me to really see anything, Hen." Port spoke up.
"With that fire down there I kind of have to!" The pilot retorted.
"Bring her further out and come around. Move slow and stay high."
"That'll put us in range of-"
"Fucking hell, those are fellow Aucks down there! We already accepted this task, so let's do it right! Hell, you accepted it first!"
Henton recoiled a bit, and looked away. He turned the helicopter around, or rather it seemed like he was drifting, and took the helicopter up until it was scraping the bottom of the cloud deck.
"That slow enough?" He asked, forcing himself to stay calm and even.
"Yeah, that's perfect."
Port wouldn't say it out loud, but if one of them took a shot at the helicopter then it would've helped his search. He flipped between white-hot and black-hot as often as he zoomed in and out. Every time Henton had to jink, he had to start over again. Henton turned around again and started south. This time, someone on the Erusean side got it in their head to lob a SAM at them.
"MANPADS, eleven low! Hang on." Henton called.
He jerked the helicopter to the right and nosed down, leaving behind a cloud of chaff and flares. As the missile drew closer and adjusted course, he made a hard left and nosed up. The missile made one more correction, but Henton was keeping as unpredictable as possible. One last burst of flares was enough to shake the SAM.
"Everyone still conscious?" He asked.
The others collectively barked back "yes" and Henton moved towards the coast again. Port zoomed out again, and finally noticed movement heading down the hill.
"Okay, I've got two specks that are moving down the hill. Moresby CIC, got possible targets. Standby for coordinates." He relayed.
Henton ascended again as Port zeroed in on one of the heat signatures. It was incredibly small, but looking at the hillside with his own eyes told him that there was no fire. For good measure, though, he made sure the frigate would blanket more than just a few meters. Another SAM lifted off, but Henton held just long enough for the information to pass before he defended.
"Moresby CIC has received coordinates, clear the area." Brighton replied.
Henton pulled up and away with Port still trying to keep an eye on the fight. He lowered the camera's view to the Erusean camp, where friendly troops were still engaged with the perimeter defenses. He scanned the line of bunkers, then zoomed out and watched the frigate's shells impact.
"Hen, I got an idea…willing to make one more run? For home?" He asked.
"Tell me the idea first." Henton replied.
"We got four Hellfires, four less enemy bunkers keeping them pinned down. We can lob 'em from long range, out of reach of the Rusies' guns."
"...Alright, but only because you brought up home. Moresby CIC, Rooster 1-2 has a possible shot at a few of the bunkers. Have you figured out a firing solution for them yet?"
"Negative Rooster 1-2, we can't get a proper firing solution. Friendly close air is inbound to take over."
"Moresby CIC, we've got a good angle on those bunkers. Request permission to engage them."
"...Standby while we make sure that friendly troops are aware."
Port took that chance to actually line up his shots. Henton moved further back, into the protective envelope of Moresby and Ferdinand. He rose up until they were able to look down upon the entire field. He turned on the radar mounted beneath them and began bending it to his will. Henton's gaze remained fixed on the hills for more MANPADs as he snaked back and forth, up and down. Every time he lowered his altitude, a few large-caliber weapons would open up. It was better than the missiles at this point, though.
"Moresby CIC, Rooster 1-2, if you have any rounds left I'd appreciate it if you might hit some of those gun positions firing on us." Hen noted.
"Copy that Rooster 1-2, we'll see what we can do. Do you still have a good angle on those bunkers?" Brighton replied.
"Affirm." Port spoke up.
"You're cleared to engage."
"Understood, Rooster 1-2 Rifle."
A single AGM-114N Hellfire accelerated off its rail and started on a level path.
"Rifle, Rifle, Rifle."
Three more followed in quick succession, and the SH-60 left its orbit to duck down towards the waves. From his position, Leonard once again waited for the explosions to tell him that they'd gotten good effect. As they subsided, a fresh pair of AH-1Ws swept in with their Hydras to clean up. Leonard looked up as one of the Cobras peeled away and held up a fist. The Air Fairies might've been on his bad side, but he'd never lost faith in the crews that handled the "Angry Palm Trees".