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03:49, 19th March 2024 (GMT+0)

16 July 2000.

Posted by Niewiele DupekFor group 0
Niewiele Dupek
GM, 61 posts
Thu 13 Dec 2012
at 16:34
  • msg #1

16 July 2000

16 July 2000

Pawłówek, Poland

2-3km NNW of Kalisz

***

"Myers, hey Myers" the voice came from somewhere behind the HMMWV. "Got a cigarette?"

Pfc Anthony Myers turned to see another driver from Bde HQ coming around the back left corner of the M998 he had signed for. He recognized the man as Pv2 Delvin Alvarado.

"Goddamn Spick" he said smiling, reaching into his breast pocket as he did so. He pulled out a pack of Reds and handed his friend one. "Don't you ever fucking buy cigarettes anymore, man?"

"Hey fuck you, white boy" Alvarado said, taking the cigarette. "I got three kids to feed." His smile matched that of Myers. The two men were drivers for Headquarters, 1st Brigade. There was so much activity in the Division these days, they rarely saw each other.

"Yeah, well tell your wife and my kids I'll be home soon" he said, a wry smile on his lips. He lit the cigarette with a metal lighter, then Alvardo's. Knowing the Dominican, he was not surprised when Alvarado shoved him playfully.

"Shut the fuck up you short motherfucker!" Delvin said, shawdow boxing with Myers like he was a fighter from the 1920s. He held his fists not at his face like a modern boxer, but with his palms facing himself in mock parody. "How much you got left anyway?"

"Seven days" Anthony Myers said. He copied the Hispanic man's stance, still smiling smugly as he smoked with a flamboyant flair. He puffed on the cigarette, lifted his head, and blew it into the sky. "Just signed my papers this morning."

"Cool, cool" Pv2 Alvarado nodded, dropping the stance. Myers did too, and the two of them leaned against the Hummer Myers signed for. "What you gonna do when you get back?"

"Shit man, I don't even know HOW I'm going to get back" Pfc Myers admitted. His smile fell away as he considered this seriously. "I heard maybe the Army still has ships going back Stateside outta Germany, but who knows? I guess it depends on who owns the port when I get there, provided 'our side' or 'theirs' didn't nuke it."

The air around Myers turned deadly serious. Alvarado could tell his friend worried about the upcoming end of his service contract. The year draftees had to serve was hard, and many didn't survive it. To scare away the demons, Delvin decided to try to lighten the mood once more.

"I hope you get there before the Russians do!" he joked. "They Commies will stop-loss your ass. You'll be driving around Soviet Motorized Rifle Division Commanders for the next year!"

"The way the war's goin'" Anthony Mitchell said in serious earnest before pulling on his cigarette one last time, "It might be the same around here."

An M113 pulled up next to the M998 parked with the other Hummers in the makeshift Division motor pool. Sporting the normal three-tone NATO paint scheme, the words 'VERY METAL' were hand painted crudely in blue paint on the back of the troop ramp. A few seconds later the ramp dropped, and the Company Commander for Alpha 1-40 stepped out. With him was First Sergeant Giuseppe Diamotto, Alpha's 'First Shirt'. The man was short, old, and wrinkled, and he was so damn mean, he scared the piss out of men a third his age.

"No smoking you two" 1SG Diamotto said to the two drivers without looking at them. He said it in a gravelly voice ruined by years of chain smoking. They hurriedly stamped out their cigarettes, came to attention and saluted the Captain as he walked past.

"I think we're over here, Sir" Diamotto guessed, pointing with all the fingers of of his right hand extended together.

Diamotto indicated an M577 about 150m away. Allen Gamble nodded to the two enlisted men who dropped their salutes but stayed at the position of attention until the two men walked away. In the short distance to the M577 command track, the Captain and the First Sergeant were saluted no less than 8 times.

Two heavily armed guards saluted using their M-16A2s as the two high-ranking men approached. The Captain asked if he could go inside, but the man to the left of the ramp shook his head.

"Not yet, Sir" the Sergeant replied. "Top Shop from Second Brigade is still in there." Captain Gamble nodded in understanding. While they waited, he and the First Shirt watched a bunch of Privates struggling to assemble a tent next to the M577.

"The other way" First Sergeant Diamotto shouted to one of the men. He cuppped his hands around his mouth in order to be heard better. "Turn that flap the other way. There's velcro on the other side. THAT's what it connects to."

"Huh?" the Private said, looking behind him. He went to the position of parade rest when he realized who was addressing him.

"FUCKING TURN IT!!!" Diamotto shouted. When he did, all the men stopped working on the tent and turned to look. One of the Privates jogged over to the man Diamotto was shouting at. The two young Privates quickly got the tent part assembled the right way.

"Thanks" the young Private said with a smile and a wave.

"WHAT?" Giuseppe Diamotto screamed, taking a step forward. "'THANKS???' What the f..."

Cpt Gamble reached out and touched Giuseppe on the shoulder. The move startled Diamotto, who obviously wasn't used to being touched.

"I...think he means, 'Thank you, First Sergeant', right son?" the Captain asked the Private.

"Y..yes, sir" the Private stammered, standing at attention.

"Fuckin' prick" Diamotto muttered under his breath as he took his head, turning away. Then, loud enough for the Privates to hear. "You better not be here when I come out.'Thanks'. Fuckin' punk."

A few minutes later, the ramp dropped. Major Thomas Wadsworth and Sergeant First Class Shawndriell Williams stepped out. Wadsworth was short, fat, and white, and Williams was tall, thin, and black. Both men were as white as ghosts when they exited the M577 command track.

"Tom?" Cpt Gamble asked, turning his head to the side. "You ok?"

"Fuckin' swell" Maj Wadsworth said, walking past Gamble without looking at him.

"Sfc Williams, good job sticking it to those Commie bastards the other day" Diamotto said. He stuck out his hand, and Shawndriell shook it absentmindedly.

"Huh" Williams asked, "What?"

The Sergeant First Class looked around, as if he were lost.

"Yeah, oh yeah, that was good" he said, walking off after Wadsworth.

1SG Diamotto put his hands on his hips and watched as the two of the leaders of 2nd Brigade, Bravo 3-77 Armored walked back toward the makeshift motor pool.

"What the fuck?" Diamotto asked no one in particular. "What would rattle a couple of old vets like that?"

"You two get in here" a voice called in English heavily accented with Spanish. It always reminded Diamotto of Destro from the cartoon GI Joe. Three generations of Diamottos would watched that show before the war started. Now he alone was the only Diamotto left still alive.

Fuckin' Commie Pricks, Giuseppe Diamotto thought.

The Captain and the First Sergeant turned to see Major General Camargo-Fernando standing at the far end of a small map table inside the command track. The smell of deodorant and lack of sweat made it smell like a public restroom at a mall.

MG Ibarra Camargo-Fernando was originally from Panama. He had dark skin and a 'high and tight' haircut. His gold-rimmed glasses were round, and the thick lenses made his crazy eyes look crazier.

The leadership of Alpha 1-40 came in and stood by the ramp side of the map. They knew the Major General's briefings were short and hard like he was, and both took out note pads to take notes.

The Panamanian was flanked by a Colonel, a Major, two Lieutenants and a Command Sergeant Major. Camargo-Fernando, turned to his right and nodded, and an enlisted man manipulated a control and the ramp of the M577 closed.

"Gentlemen" he started, "It's good to see you. Good job fighting off the 20th yesterday. We think that they took heavy losses and are no longer an effective fighting force."

The Panamanian looked around at his staff, and they all nodded in agreement with each other. Clearly if any of the men dissented, they didn't show it.

"I'd like to give you good news, but I can't" he continued, looking down at the map. "Not only did we lose 2-11 Infantry yesterday, as you know, but we also lost the main body of the 256th earlier today...here."

He indicated a spot on the map near Lask.

"The 4-12 Cav had to give up Sieradz under pressure from the 21st MRD" Camargo-Fernando said. He seethed with rage, and he looked at Diamotto like the man himself was the one responsible for it. Cpt Gamble noticed it too, but wondered if it was just because the two men were the same height.

The Panamanian strummed his fingers on the map, switching his gaze to Cpt Gamble.

"Captain Able, today you've been in contact?" the Major General asked the Company Commander of Alpha 1-40.

"Yes sir, we've been pushing back infantry probes all day" Able confirmed. "We reconstituted some survivors from the two-five-six and set them up here, here, and here."

Cpt Able's long, black fingers touched the map on the three of the six main roads leading out of Kalisz. The roads to the northwest, southwest, and south were touched, leaving the roads to the north, east, and southeast untouched, meaning he didn't have any people there.

"Our people, supporting the 256th, or what we've got left, destroyed the following..." Allen Gamble paused, flipping through his notebook. "From Pleszew, we destroyed three.."

"We believe that to be an enemy feint" Colonel Jessup said matter-of-factly, interrupting the Captain. Diamotto breathed deeply, and Gamble said a silent prayer that the hot-blooded Italian kept his mouth shut just once.

Major General Ibarra Camargo-Fernando lifted his chin, tilting his head back to peer at Colonel Jessup through the bottom of his lenses. It was his turn to feel the crazy eyes, but the Colonel either didn't know or didn't care. He studied the map, then studied the Captain.

"In case it is something more" the Major General added, "We have a contingency plan. The Panamanian turned to the map, and all the others in the command track took a small step closer to the map to follow along.

"It is my intention to hold Kalisz, gentlemen" Camargo-Fernando informed them. He poked his forefinger at them, like an old man accusing some teenagers of stealing his undergarments at a public laundromat. "You, and the rest of 1-40, WILL hold Kalisz."

More crazy eyes.

"In the event of another 'surprise', like the one at Lódź..." the Panamanian staff officer paused, and made crazy eyes at the Colonel. The Colonel looked at the Major, the Major looked at the two Lieutenants, and the CSM just looked bored. It reminded Allen Gamble of dominos, and it would have been funny, if it wasn't pathetically sad.

"...The US 5th Division will punch through to the south and reform here...." Major General Ibarra Camargo-Fernando said, touching the map. He indicated a town named Wieruszów, some 60km to the south.

"Gentlemen, your orders" the Panamanian continued, swelling his voice for maximum effect, "Are to improve your positions at Kalisz. In the event that you are ordered to do so, you are to hold Kalisz while the rest of the Division breaks out to the south, fighting a tactical withdraw yourselves once the last elements of the division have made it to safety."

First Sergeant Diamotto drew in a breath as if he were going to say something.

Whatever you want, God, I'll even stop smoking, just please don't let him say anything
Gamble prayed.

"Gentlemen, 1-40 Armored will be tasked a platoon of engineers from Seventh Engineering Battalion" Colonel Jessup informed them. Captain Gamble's teeth started to grind as he realized he just gave up smoking.

"They will emplace explosives and blow the six main bridges in Kalisz" the Colonel continued. "You will provide armored escort for the engineers as they blow the bridges if things go bad. Be warned. Failure to blow up one of those bridges means the Reds are in our back pocket. There are no defensive positions between here and Wieruszów."

"Gentlemen, if there are no questions..." Major General Ibarra Camargo-Fernando said sternly, letting the two men know he didn't expect there to be any questions, "You are dismissed."

"Sir, are any of the bridges wired to blow yet...?" Cpt Gamble asked, looking at the faces of the Division staff, he knew the answer to his question before he finished it "...or are our engineers going to start work on that ASAP?"

Ibarra Camargo-Fernando softened a bit. The crazy eyes faded and he looked over at the Colonel...

...who looked at the Major...

...who looked at the two Lieutenants...

...who looked at each other. Both First Lieutenants, the one with 'Sanders' on his BDU top, looked back at the Captain.

"No sir, the situation was too fluid" he explained. He took a step over to the map, and began explaining.

"On the 19th of last month, the Division jumped off here" 1LT Sanders said, circling Chojnice and Czluchow. "On the 21st, our scouts made Torun..."

"YES OR NO!?!?!" First Sergeant Diamotto shouted at the young officer. His deep voice echoed in the cramped map room that was the back of the M577. Everyone was so shocked, no one said anything.

"N-no, not yet" Sanders said, not quite sure what just happened.

Gamble held back the smirk he had when his 1st Sergeant snapped on the 1st LT.  "Thank you Sergeant.  So, we're looking at taking out the outermost bridges first, collapsing in, and then getting the hell outta Dodge."

"Sound fundamentally sound 1SG Diamotto?" Cpt Gamble said, looking at the Alpha First Shirt directly.

"Sounds more like a goddamn clusterfuck, Captain. The bridges should have been down already, but that's combat engineers for you", the small Italian-American said, spreading his hands with theatrical display of wonderment.

Diamotto's way off addressing officers, who were senior in rank but far junior in age, was borderline to insubordinate. But then again, the First Sergeant was both ancient and decorated enough to pass on half his medals over to a couple of generals and still look like a Christmas Tree. And there was the point, he was old enough to have retires already, so he probably had enough backing at the higher echelon. It was the only way, the man could have stayed in the service, even at wartime.

"No doubt a cluster-fuck First Sergeant but nonetheless, we still have a job to do!  Any other colorful assessments of our mission or what we'll need to accomplish it?" the Alpha CO asked.

"No, Captain, that about sums up the situation. We better shake a leg and get Oscar-Mike, so we can get this shit over with" Diamotto responded.

With a nod to his senior NCO, Gamble turns to the higher ups and tells them, "That appears to be it sir.  Just want to make sure that units know that we're going to be in their resepctive A.O.'s and we don't get any flak over our mission.  I would also like to think that we'll have priority for this mission to make sure it is completed?"

The First Sergeant muttered something about the incompetence of the engineers - what the hell did they think, the others had been doing while 'they were experiencing difficulties'? Circle jerking and reading Washington Post? Undermanned? Boo-hoo. The 5th was already chronically understaffed as it was and still some got off their lazy asses and got the job done. All this muttering was done practically under breath, though the small SNCO would have said it out loud, if asked to.

"If it comes to that, Sir", Diamotto said to the Colonel with the emphasis on the sir bordering insubordination, "I'll blow the goddamn bridges myself." He and the general had a past and it was probable, the colonel knew that as well. And they probably knew, the concertina-wire eating, napalm-pissing First Sergeant would probably do just what he said and blow the bridge up. If he lacked in courtesy, he did not lack in skill or courage.

Gamble returns to the position of 'at ease' looking straight forward when the Colonel went off on him.  When he was done, Gamble looked at Jessup and attempted to address him first, "Colonel Jessup, I meant no disrespect nor was I indicating we weren't doing what we were ordered to do sir.  I apologize if you took it that way."  Allen didn't like to suck up but, he knew and could hear that Jessup was under a lot of pressure and just wanted to try to defuse the situation.

Allen then looked at Ibarra, "We'll be all we can be and do our part while they do theirs sir.  We have Sgt. Diamotto with us, what could go wrong?"

"Are you fucking with me, Captain?" the small American-Italian asked with a devilish grin. "The answer to the question is, a shitload of things, but then again, that is just normal."

The devilish grin is returned, "Standard procedure as always First Sergeant. If there's nothing more sir?  We have a lot of prep work to do!"

Major General Ibarra Camargo-Fernando took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his temples. It looked to the two men of Alpha Company as if he was going to say something, then changed his mind. He put his glasses back on, and looked at the A Company leadership.

"Gentlemen" he said, with an exhausted air, "You are dismissed."

***
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:55, Mon 17 Dec 2012.
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