Retribution (Soldier Up - Book Five 5) (19 page)

BOOK: Retribution (Soldier Up - Book Five 5)
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Chapter Thirty-Eight

 

President Washington had been back from his tour of the West Coast for a few weeks now.  He thought a lot about what he saw and experienced on his trip back.  He was still reeling from what he saw at Camp Parks and the rebuilding effort now going on in Southern California.  How could all of the experts been so wrong? Why was it, that even after the event his own experts couldn’t move them forward?  It took a United States Army Colonel to recognize what needed to be done and act on it.  That was the feat, the leadership and focus to get the job done, no matter what it took.

              Brigadier General Clayton had built an entire new Civil Affairs unit, which he sent out to various posts and communities to help them rebuild.  A large part of what they did, and President Washington was amazed to find out, was largely based on what General Clayton’s wife, Melissa, had established prior to her death.  The President thought of them as a formidable couple He often wondered too, if anyone else had stepped up to fill that gap after the event in such a positive manner.

              Another fact President Washington found amazing was that the military on the West Coast had done everything possible to maintain their belief in the country and Constitution.  When civilian leadership finally emerged, they had no qualms about handing over the leadership to him.  These men and women in the West Coast never stopped believing.   The President met with General Watkins who gave him a personal tour of Camp Parks and the surrounding community, which at one point had been camps.  They looked nothing like that now. Life was somewhat normal now for most of these people.  General Watkin’s briefing wasn’t quite as pleasant. He noted to the President that once they got past Las Vegas in the West, than down to the New Mexico border in the Southwest, than run that back up to western border of Idaho, they didn’t really know what was there. 

              They certainly had various reports and had sent A-Teams into Montana and Wyoming and found various militias throughout both states controlling the cities and towns.  The A-Teams sent into Texas were never heard from again.
What the hell was going on in Texas?
The President thought.   The deep south of the country, Georgia, Alabama, South Carolina and the rest of those states were a mystery, as there was no communication with them. They had gone dark.

              President Washington’s biggest problem now, outside of the Army of the Potomac, was in his own backyard.  The Chairman and other Joint Chiefs, as well as the Secretaries of the Army, Navy and Air Force were calling for the Brigadier General’s head.  Their rationale was that the General had flaunted his status as Special Counsel to the President in everyone’s face and was untouchable.  To an extent General Clayton was right. The only person that could touch the good General was the President.  General Clayton had gone far outside of normal military channels and moved military assets from the West Coast to the East Coast and positioned them as he saw fit without even consulting them.

              General Clayton was very vocal that the Pentagon was largely responsible for the ineffective recovery on the East Coast and the advancement of the Army of the Potomac.  That if he hadn’t done what he had, the Army of the Potomac may very well be on Washington DC’s doorstep right now.  There wasn’t time to sit down and debate the situation, since they need to digest the intelligence they had now and make good decisions.   What President Washington saw was nothing but sour grapes. The high ranking officers in the Pentagon were being shown up by the upstart young Brigadier General.  They were doing almost everything they could to undermine his authority.

              Some senior officers had gone so far to venture back to the West Coast, without the President’s knowledge and permission to use aircraft and fuel, which were both prized possessions.  The only mission those officers had was to do their best to soil General Clayton’s reputation, because they found it very hard to believe that General Clayton was the main man driving the reconstruction.  They found it even harder to believe that he had accomplished everything people were saying he did.  Unfortunately, for those officers what they found supported everything they had heard about General Clayton and more.  What made it worse for those officers was once President Washington was informed of what was going on he personally relieved those officers and sent the first two or three packing.  When those officers defected to General Magnus, the next officers relieved were sent to the stockade or brig, depending on the branch, for the duration.

              It finally got to the point where the President issued written orders that every single officer in the United States Military would give General Clayton what he wanted when he wanted.  If any officer dissented they would be arrested and tried for Treason.  The order when on to say it was regardless of rank. The President didn’t care if you had four stars or chevrons.  When General Clayton said jump the only thing their response better be was, how high? 

              The order went out to every command throughout the United States, and the President personally met with the Chairman and Joint Chiefs and read them the riot act.  He bluntly told them this was his sandbox and he was the Commander and Chief.  If they didn’t like it to please feel free to resign or they could join the others in the stockade.  There was a lot of grumbling by the Officer Corps, but they fell in line, because they recognized that General Clayton was a brilliant tactician and there was no one that matched his ability in logistics either.  Besides, if it all went to hell they had their fall guy, because everything that was happening now was on General Clayton’s shoulders, so they had their scapegoat. 

              It wasn’t all a bed of roses for General Clayton; he was called into the Oval Office and ordered to be more respectful of his Senior Officers, even the useless ones.  General Clayton agreed that he would try, but also stated that he would do what was necessary to protect the country and Constitution from all enemies foreign and domestic.  The President thought,
Damn! I like his drive
. He also told General Clayton there were officers that were out to get him, so he needed to watch his six.  That someday in the future, this was all going to end and if he wasn’t careful he would find himself on the outs when it was all over.  If need be, President Washington would use his command authority to promote General Clayton over all of them. It would make the establishment furious, but maybe they needed to be shaken up a bit.  So far, as far as he could tell, they had let down the American people, including himself, and he was done with that.

              Seeing what was happening on the West Coast opened his eyes to what they could really do if they all worked together, looked to the past for solutions and dealt the hand they had.  He knew it was time for new leadership, and he was working on it.  The first thing though was defeating the Army of the Potomac.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

 

General Magnus received reports of early engagements with the 28
th
Infantry Division about fifteen miles north of Fredericks. To General Magnus it looked like the 28
th
decided to finally stand and fight.   He knew that he outnumbered them at least three-to-one, so he wasn’t sure why they had halted. Therefore, he was suspicious that something had changed, although none of the intelligence his forces had collected to date had indicated anything out of the ordinary.

              The two reconnaissance aircraft that were sent out had yet to return. They were supposed to have returned days ago, so he assumed the pilots were killed in action (KIA).  He had been studying his maps and noticed that all of the reported engagements were directly to his front.  He ordered further scouting on either side of his flanks. If he could flank the 28
th
and send forces into their rear areas he could eliminate the 28
th
ID fairly quickly.  First Brigade, commanded by Colonel Steven Walowski was sent to the east. Their orders were to find the eastern part of the 28
th
ID line and exploit it. Second Brigade, commanded by Eric Stolfer, was sent west, to determine the 28
th
ID’s lines and to exploit it.  However, Second Brigade had a slightly different problem. Baltimore wasn’t all that far and no one knew what was going on there.  28
th
ID’s lines could be stretched, not all the way to the city, but far enough.

              If there were any militias in Baltimore and they were trained and smart, they might have extended their reach outside of the city.  The point of doing that would be to know ahead of time if any trouble was coming, like now, and move extra forces to the area and reinforce.  Third Brigade, led by Colonel Walter Paltero, would follow in support of Second Brigade, but remain far enough behind so they could lend a hand in the main effort.  Fourth and Fifth Brigades led by Colonels Elliot Clinton and Colonel Tricia Elwood, respectively, would continue to drive towards Fredericks.  On the surface it seemed like an easy plan, with not a lot of moving parts.  Yet, any good combat commander knew that planning was only good to the point where you met the enemy, because seldom did the enemy conform to your plan.

              Fourth and Fifth Brigades had spread out, like a skirmish line in their respective Battalions.  Third Battalion, Fourth Brigade had taken the lead for the Brigade. They were left of center, heading as the crow flies towards Fredericks.  Second Battalion, Fifth Brigade has taken the lead for the Brigade, they were right of center, heading towards Fredericks.  On the day of the advancement, those two Battalions left the line and moved forward.   The First and Second Brigades had moved out twelve hours earlier in their respective directions, with the Third Brigade slowly trailing the Second.             

              Third Battalion had moved two miles and was encountering minefields; they were trying to determine the length and depth of the fields. Second Battalion was two and a half miles into their move when they started to receive artillery from their left flank. They were caught by surprise and in the open.  They were being cut to shreds by air burst rounds.  The Battalion Commander called for an immediate retreat.  The Third and Fourth Brigades were at a halt until their respective Battalions could work out their own respective predicaments.  Around midday, there was a loud buzzing noise in the sky; the soldiers in First Battalion had no idea what it could be.  Word came down quickly from Brigade to dig-in as fast as they could and the soldiers wondered why. What the hell was going on?

              They didn’t have to wait much longer to find out because large propeller-driven aircraft began to appear overhead, and not one of the soldiers on the ground recognized what they were, what they were able to see were the bombs dropping out of them, heading their way.  There was a scramble for cover, but they received word to dig in too late.  Bombs started bursting nine-to-ten feet above them, spreading deadly shrapnel, Calls for medic could be heard throughout.  The medics were scrambling from soldier to soldier.  The explosions could be heard for miles. General Magnus was outside his CP, watching as the area he was in was not under attack. He knew they were completely helpless to do anything, and his thoughts were running wildly, ‘Where the hell did they get the aircraft to do this?’, ‘Where were the aircraft launched from?’, ‘Could he still execute his agenda against so much firepower?’

              General Magnus reasoned that if the North Vietnamese during the Vietnam War could win against such overwhelming firepower, he certainly could.  He went on to reason that it didn’t matter where the aircraft came from, they had them, that’s what mattered. It did matter, however, where they came from.  Within minutes the bombing sortie was over with and the planes passed overhead and turned south.  General Magnus quickly ordered runners out to get his staff into the CP as quickly as possible.  They needed a plan. Odds were that the aircraft would return for another run. He didn’t know what the status of his forces was after the bombing run, but he assumed it wasn’t going to be good.

              ‘Where the hell did the planes come from?’ He thought to himself.  He felt his intelligence network that was embedded within the Capital and the halls of power were good, but they had apparently missed a few things.  General Magnus headed back inside his CP, shaking his head. ‘Something new to worry about’ he thought.  He sat in his CP for the next fifteen minutes, staff members began arriving, very worried at the new development.  Three of the General’s staff as it turned out had been killed in the bombing sortie.  The two lead Battalions had sent replacements to brief the General. Those Battalions had been decimated by the bombing, so much so that the General ordered them to pull back. The only real solution for the time being was keep moving forward and each evening when they halted, they had to dig in, deep. 

              General Magnus knew it would slow them down quite a bit, but if he didn’t he wouldn’t have much of an Army left to fight with. It’s not like he had replacement troops flowing in.  Once he was able to overcome the 28
th
ID, those forces would be given the opportunity to join him or be executed as traitors.  Orders were also sent out to the Brigades to send out two new Battalions to take the lead and push forward. 

Chapter Forty

 

The 28
th
ID and the elements of the 11 ACR that were with them were aware of the bombing sortie and were able to dig in before it. They had protection in the event an errant bomb hit them.  Teams of the 19
th
Special Forces Group continued operations, ignoring their own safety, to maneuver around the Army of the Potomac and collect intelligence on new formations.  They noticed that two Brigades left the AO heading east and west respectively, with two Brigades leading the spearhead in the center.  From a safe distance they were able to see the carnage that rained down on the two Battalions that were in the lead.  The 19
th
SF teams reported back exact locations through their chain-of-command, which pushed it back to the Pentagon and the units in the field. 

              The 28
th
ID and 11
th
ACR used the intelligence to maneuver their units, after the bombing run, while the Army of the Potomac was trying to figure out what the hell had happened.  Their next step was to get the 11
th
ACR Abrams and Bradley’s to raise a little hell in the rear.  Immediately after the sortie had ended, the 11 ACR moved out at full speed. They maneuvered around the Army of the Potomac’s left flank, where a team from the 19
th
SF had found a gap, which the 11
th
was more than happy to exploit.  The Bradley’s and Abrams moved slowly through the gap, which was between Fifth and Fourth Brigade, of the Army of the Potomac.  It was sunset, but they still had enough light to maneuver down the roads. 

              The two Bradley’s with their 25mm guns led the way, but they knew they had two more miles north to go after passing through the lines.  It was true they had limited visibility moving down the dirt roads, not to mention the sound of the tracked vehicles carried quite a ways in the dark, but it would be difficult to ascertain exactly where the track noise was coming from.  The Bradley’s would make the run through the rear, while tanks would take up overlooking positions and use their 120mm cannon fire on targets of opportunity.  The entire operation was scheduled to run ten to fifteen minutes and then they would retreat as fast as possible through the gap they had come through, assuming of course they hadn’t filled it by then.

              The Bradley’s took position on the woods, about a quarter mile from their objective. They waited for the tanks to get into their over-watch position, which took another ten minutes.  Each vehicle was fitted with radios that allowed for them to communicate up to two miles.  Once the tanks were in position they gave the ‘go’ to the Bradley’s.  The Bradley’s made their final checks, and then moved out, because their target was Fifth Brigade’s Command Post and its accompanying vehicles. Once near the CP the Bradley’s stopped. They had a new type of low powered beacon on top of their respective vehicles, which would identify the vehicle as friend or foe.  Word went out over the radio net to engage, engage, fire at will!

              Each Bradley had a primary target they were assigned, followed by secondary targets and targets of opportunity.  Each tank also had a primary target, which they weren’t allowed to fire on until they knew for sure that the Bradley had vacated that area.  The Bradley’s opened up, raking the CP and area around it with their 25 millimeter guns. Once they had fired on it, they moved onto the next target, and then an Abrams would fire on the target with its cannon ensuring nothing was left.   Inside the CP all hell was breaking loose. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing and seeing. Where the hell the did the Bradley’s come from?  Then the other shoe dropped when they started receiving cannon fire. How did they get artillery behind them?  Word was spreading that it wasn’t artillery, but tanks. 

              Soldiers returning from patrols had sighted the tanks on a small ridge to the northeast of their position. They reported five Abram battle tanks, firing on various vehicles throughout the area.  Colonel Clinton was issuing orders to his commanders to ‘bug out’ and get to the rally point.  The Colonel also dispatched a runner to inform General Magnus that they were under attack by Bradley fighting vehicles, at least five and another five Abram battle tanks.  This was crazy thought Colonel Clinton, wondering where the armor had come from, since there were no armor units on the East Coast.  The Bradley’s and Abrams were punishing them, vehicles were exploding everywhere, and they had hit their fuel reserves and destroyed just about every vehicle in the motor pool. 

              The mess tents went down, almost everything was on fire, and only two things hadn’t been hit, the mobile hospital and his command post.  As Colonel Clinton thought about why they hadn’t hit his CP yet, it exploded in a ball of fire, hit all at once from multiple rounds by the tanks.  When the Abrams were done firing there was not one soul, with the exception of medical facilities, left alive; almost everything was on fire. 

              Fifth Brigade’s CP ceased to exist, and the runner that Colonel Clinton had sent only moments before the CP bombardment arrived at General Magnus’s CP five miles away.  The runner hustled his way into the CP, where General Magnus was receiving a briefing from his Military Intelligence Officers. 

              The Corporal that had brought Colonel Clinton’s message to the General was held up by Captain Foster, one of the General’s aides.  “Sir.” The Corporal said.  “’I’ve got a very important message for the General from Colonel Clinton; the Brigade CP is under attack.”

              Captain Foster was a bit skeptical of the Corporal’s assertion that the Colonel’s CP was under attack.  Captain Foster had been to Fifth Brigade’s CP, as well as the others, he knew it was very well guarded.  Besides, how could they possible get through all of the forward defenses. 

              “Why don’t you give me the message Corporal and I’ll make sure the Colonel gets it today,” Captain Foster replied somewhat condescendingly.

              Captain Foster reached to for the message in the Corporal’s hands, but the Corporal pulled back, “Listen to me!” Captain Foster yelled at the Corporal. “You will give me that letter!”

              The Corporal responded calmly, “I’m sorry sir. I can’t do that; my orders are General Magnus only.”

              “Corporal I outrank you and you will do what I tell you!”  Again, Captain Foster was yelling at the Corporal.

              By then Captain Foster’s yelling had interrupted the General’s briefing. General Magnus exited his briefing to find out what all the yelling is about.  “Captain Foster!” General Magnus angrily said. “What’s the meaning of all yelling at the Corporal?”

              “Sir, I ordered the Corporal to hand over a message from Colonel Clinton,” Captain Foster replied indignantly.

              “Is that so Corporal?” General Magnus asked.

              “Sir, I have an eyes only message for you from Colonel Clinton. It’s urgent sir, the CP is under attack.”

              General Magnus eyed the Corporal suspiciously, and reached out. “Let me have it then.”

              The Corporal handed over the message. “This had better be important, none of Colonel Clinton’s bullshit.” The General said.  He opened the letter and read it, “Did you see any of this?” The General asked the Corporal.             

              “Sir I saw the Bradley’s, five of them.  I also witnessed the arty rounds hitting the area around the CP.”

              “Did you see any tanks?”  General Magnus asked.

              “No sir, not personally, though I did witness a couple of the patrols that had checked into the CP and I saw them report to Colonel Clinton seeing them.”

              “First the aircraft and now armor. Where hell is all of this coming from?” General Magnus said aloud, not directed any one in particular.  His gut feeling was that they had help, but from where, and who had the means to supply them with what looked like B-17’s was anyone’s guess.  General Magnus quickly returned to his briefing. “I have a new mission for you,” the General went on. “I need to know where those B-17s came from, and now they apparently have armor, Bradley’s and Abrams.”

              There was stirring among the Military Intelligence Officers, General Magnus continued, “I don’t care what it takes, get me the information.”  General Magnus stormed out of the briefing. 

              General Magnus ordered his Humvee brought up, along with his armed escort. He was heading for Fifth Brigade to find out what was going on.  He still found it hard to believe they had been attacked by armor.  He loaded up into his Humvee and he and his escorts took off. It wouldn’t take long to cover the five miles.

              The Bradley’s and Abrams had wrapped up their operation with success and were making a beeline back to the gap in the line they had come through.  It was the longest two-mile run many of them had ever made and it seemed to last for an eternity. 

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