Fedor finished his tea in a gulp and slipped the cup back into it's carrying pouch.

He had nothing to add and so he simply listened.

Thomas looked around at the the others before pushing himself forward off the humvee he was leaning on and saying "We need to look for survivors before anything else. We owe our muckers that much at least."

"If I understand the tactical situation correctly," commented Mike as he glanced around the various intelligence experts present, "Soviet forces are still driving our forces back in a generally westwards direction. As a result I presume that we're now one of many straggler groups behind enemy lines, based on the you're on your own now message we received. That retreat and pursuit westwards will probably be a stop start affair and that will spread out the Soviet supply and communication lines as it continues.

"Trying to make it to Krosnice in the given time frame is going to be both difficult and dangerous and even if we make it there what are we going to find. It's going to be a confused mess with someone trying to organise a lot of jumbled up and panicked units into a more orderly withdrawal. That's going to end up as a slow moving convoy and it will become a prime target for any Soviet forces assigned to mop up stragglers.

"It also won't be the only opportunity to link up with NATO forces again. If we keep monitoring the radio I'm sure that there will eventually be comms about further collection points further back towards Germany. Those Rangers won't have found every single group of stragglers to give them the message and there will be groups who don't make it to Krosnice who they'll still try to recover. Those Rangers themselves aren't going to make it to the RV in time so they must have a different plan.

"I therefore think that Tom is right. We need to go and have a look for any other survivors from our platoon before we make any attempt to get to Krosnice. We owe it to aour friends and comrades. It will probably mean that we don't arrive in Krosnice in nineteen hours but I don't think that that is a major issue. We will link up with them eventually, not necessarily in Krosnice but at the next collection point. In the meantime if we come across any small scale Soviet forces we can hit them back to keep things disrupted in the Soviet rear. That will tie up more of their troops and reduce the pressure on ours.

"The major constraint we have is fuel so if we decide to not gamble everything trying to get to Krosnice quickly then as well as going to check for any survivors from our platoon we need to try to recover any fuel we can find. Food and water we can forage for but fuel we can't."

He then turned to Captain Cave. "So my thoughts are Sir that we check for survivors first and then head towards Krosnice at a sensible pace, avoiding the risks that a mad dash entails. Once we're there we can have a look and see if anyone is still there and then decide where to go next. To put it another way, I think that calm and considered is going to win this race."

Tiredness was making him waffle again so he left it there, giving others the opportunity to speak up.

In reply to Mike Thompson (msg # 20):

Seamus nodded.

"Seamus Murphy, Private, Queen's Royal Irish Hussars. Challenger tank gunner. Currently unemployed. My tank brewed up, you see..."

****
Seamus listened to the whole scenario and then added his own two pence.

"Look for survivors, I would say... but don't spend too long about it. A few hours at most."

He drunk from some water he'd been provided. It was a bit brackish, but still drinkable.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Fri 13 Aug 2021.

The serene quiet of the forest was suddenly shattered by gunfire nearby.

Those people with time behind iron sights were quick to place three distinct sounds; the chatter of M16a2s firing three round bursts in rapid fire, the chug-chug-chug of AKMs, and a long burst from an M249 squad automatic weapon. The sounds were close, despite the thick forest. The fight had broken out less than two hundred meters from their little pow-wow.

It sounded as if the Rangers had crossed paths with a Soviet force. The gunfire was dense, but the Rangers seemed to have engaged first. The Soviets, to their credit, responded immediately.

That distance and the direction of the fight could only mean one thing; the Soviets where hunting down the stragglers in the forest. AKMs and stealthy, hunting troops would tend more towards the skillset of the Spetznas than the category B troops commonly equipped with the older weapons. If it was the Soviet special operations troops, they were probably hunting down H platoon.

One of the MIA's had been broken. That, too was within the skillset of the Spetznas. It was most likely the same Soviets they had fought during the previous day's battles. Now, it would seem they were coming after the Intelligence gathering platoon.

To be hunted down like a prized lion was a chilling thought.

The first reports that echoed through the wood caused Sean's head to perk up, and the fire that replied urged him into motion along with the rest of the group.

He exhaled sharply, put his cup of coffee on the map to hold it in place and snatched up his M16. "Well let's go help them our...form up and follow me." he said to the group as he urged the charging handle on the weapon back and confirmed the glint of brass down the in chamber. He unconsciously pressed on the assist after he had done so, and taking the weapon by he balance, he began to move off towards the fire fight at a pace that kept his load bearing gear from bouncing too wildly.

Fedor moved a bit and put a hand on the Sean's shoulder. The grip was such that it would take a real effort to shake it off.

He spoke somewhat quietly but directly into the other man's ear.

"Keptin, Rangers fire first. Enemy responds. Rangers will break contact and fade into forest. Draws enemy toward Rangers, away from us."

"If we make fight...we cannot all break engagement. Some do not know how. Some die. Enemy takes our vehicles and equipment and kills our friends."

"Enemy has already overrun wounded. We cannot help."

"We should go. Take vehicles and go to Krosnice."

Caught off guard, Cecylia jumped briefly at the not distant enough gunfire. The past two days had been hell, and she was in no hurry to have a second go at the experience. They had set off with 44 people, and they were now 7 of them left, with 1 straggler. If being afraid to die made her a coward, then, Cecylia was definitely a coward. When Fedor spoke up, her opinion was only cemented. She had been through thick and thin with him, and he had pulled her out of dangerous situations more often than she dared recall. And, contrary to her, he knew this. He knew combat, he knew the army. He knew the Soviets and NATO. All she knew was the history of Polish opera houses architecture and how to look good in a ball gown.

“Fedor is right,” she said quickly behind the big Russian's words. “There's only eight of us, and not all of us can really fight. This is not what we do.”

She gestured towards the gunfire “Those are Spetznas. They're killers. This is what they do best. They've already chewed us up. Look at us. Look at what is left."

Still talking hurriedly, Cecylia had begun to back off from the group to grab her pack.

“Captain,” she said, flashing bright blue eyes at him, “I understand how you feel. I know you want to help, but if we go out there, we're all going to die.”

"Captain," Mike added to the advice being thrown at Sean, "I think that Fedor reads the tactical situation correctly. I think that the Rangers have probably engaged to draw them away from us and any other groups of stragglers they've found. They are geared up for hit and run tactics and my guess is that they're already withdrawing. It's what I would do. Hit the enemy hard and then run. I think that they are buying us a window to get the hell out of here and we need to take it. Even if it was an accidental contact we need to make use of it. The noise of our vehicles will attract attention so we need to pack and go sharpish."

He then turned to Thomas and Seamus. "This means we can't go searching for survivors. That window has passed unfortunately. Grad your gear and get mounted up." He looked to Sean however to confirm what the plan was however.

Sean wanted to fight, the glint in his eye made that obvious enough.

When he had spoken early in the morning about people wanting vengeance, he had likely unconsciously included himself among the number. He wanted to kill them for what they had done to his friends, his brothers and sisters in arms. He wanted to feel the gentle kick, the watch them crumple, the smell the burnt powder and to feel the barrel grow warm. He wanted it so badly it hurt.

But the others were right, and he had to admit that, as difficult as it was in that moment.

"You're right." he said generally, including the three in a general sweep and looking mournfully towards the gunfire. "Let's load up." he said bitterly, looked about and around at his feet for a moment, and then with a last glance over his shoulder, went to gather his things.

When the firing starts, Tom hunkers down in a crouch with his weapon pointed vaguely in the direction of fire. He looks alarmed when the Captain starts heading towards the firing, but prepares himself to move - there could well be casualties.

When the captain does a double take, he is visibly relieved, but shakes his head when Mike says its time to bug out and leave the others "Thats the wrong call, Mike. What that tells me is next time I hear someone call Medic, I think 'Fuck em, we're leaving you anyway'. That ends us as any any sort of unit. We HAVE to go back and at least try. If we run into trouble and have to bug out thats one thing. But just writing them off, and not even trying?" He looks down and shakes his head again. He looks up again, looking Mike square in the eye and says "We shouldn't do that. I WON'T do that."

Fedor picks up his pack and moves to one of the Humvees with Cece in tow.

"Is orders Thom. Move ass. The living need you more than the dead."

In reply to Thomas Carter (msg # 36):

"Tom," replied Mike, following on from Fedor's comment, "sometimes hard decisions have to be taken. That's called the burden of leadership. It don't have to feel right but that is what we have to do. And we're still observing ranks so it's Sergeant or Sarge but not Mike."

The SAW gunner in the not to distant firefight suddenly punctuated the conversation with what had to have been half a belt. The non-stop hammering of the light machine gun was a clear cut signal to the men who had time in similar positions; the Rangers had initiated a break contact maneuver.

As soon as the SAW stopped firing an single M16 began hammering away. There return fire was significantly less, but several AKMs fired as well. The M16 suddenly stopped as the magazine ran dry. A moment later there was the boom of a fragmentation grenade.

Tom looks at Mike, then Fedor and says "Bullshit." He starts moving towards the humvees, grabbing his kit, talking loudly so everyone can hear "The army I joined didn't leave people behind. I spent my time in helicopters over here proving that. If we leave them behind, then its all bullshit. And so are orders and rank." He climbs into the humvee he's been assigned and looks for the Captain before adding "Tell me I'm wrong Captain"

"I can't" Sean replied honestly to Thomas, with a glance back as he shoved his backpack into some of the scant available space in the same vehicle. "It's bullshit that the Reds can't leave these people in peace. And it's bullshit that we're being forced to leave our dead, and maybe even our wounded out there." he admitted with a sigh.

"But if we want be around to try to make it right in the days to come, we don't have much choice." he set his M16 barrel down in the front passenger seat of the standard HMMWV. "I'm not going to force you Carter, I can't, but I hope you come with us. I think you could do a lot of good, and we sure could use you."

He looked over at their newest addition. "Hey! Can you run that fifty?" he asked with a gesture towards the uparmored HMMWV, then he looked around to see how close they were to getting on the road.

"Most certainly can, sir!" Seamus replied and clambered into the gunner's position. He was feeling a tad nervous. He had never liked it when the Challenger wasn't buttoned up, because someone could drop a grenade inside when you weren't looking. Now he was exposed to a sniper. Well, he figured that he'd nearly died once today, so he'd probably used up all his bad luck allocation for the day.

Waiting for the others, he started to scan the horizon.

In reply to Seamus Murphy (msg # 42):

The so-called up-armored HMMWV was little more than and under-powered wannabe armored car. The .50 machine gun wasn't anything to laugh at as machine guns go. But, it didn't have the punch of a Warrior's 30mm. Or even the American LAV's 25mm.

Mounting the vehicle and sliding in behind the M2, Seamus took a good look out into the surrounding forest. The night had been tiring, harrowing, and confusing. Now that he had a moment to look around, especially after those Rangers had stirred up a fight nearby, he was liking the closeness of the terrain. It would be an unmitigated terror for tanks in this close country.

(Seamus: Make a recon check please.)

Fedor stood in the rugged American vehicle and, after checking to be certain that Cece was aboard, looked over the M60 gpmg. The Americans sometimes called the weapon a "Pig" and while he wasn't sure if it was due to the weight or it's capacity to eat ammo he agreed it was a fitting name.

He flexed the machinegun on it's mount checking to see that it was still mobile.

Recon roll: 8

Seamus saw something in the forest...

Seamus was looking about.

The battle had been a long series of engagements over a considerable distance the night before. When they finally called a halt and set out the tarps everyone was simply to tires and to stressed to care about much more than drinking some water, taking off their boots, and getting some sleep.

But, such lax standards in such a dangerous situation could be fatal. He scanned their back trail and sighed. Their tracks were like a set of railroad tracks leading right to them. No wonder the Rangers were waiting on them. That said a lot about the night before too. Even with a desperate order to deliver the Rangers had waited until they began to stir. It occurred to Seamus that they must have had a rough go of it during the night as well. Probably needed their own time to recover.

Looking in the direction of the fight, Seamus looked to where the Rangers had revealed themselves. Doing the logical connect the dots in the direction of the firing it occurred to him that the Rangers had veered of course a bit, maybe cut the Soviets' trail and tracked them down.

It would explain how they got the drop on the Spetznas so quickly.

Then, that would mean the Soviets were moving towards the HMMWVs. A little more connecting the dots sent Seamus looking off into the forest between their back trail and the fire fight. And then something moved. No, not something, but some one. Then another someone, and another. That was all he saw, but they were moving like men accustomed to such a task moving toward the sound of gunfire.

Suddenly they stopped. A man with what was obviously and AKM in his hands and wearing those camouflaged parachutist smocks knelt and took up a position less than thirty meters out. He was looking toward the fighting. So, four at least, most likely eight. Another Spetznas squad probably.

The morning suddenly began to feel like the night before.

Mike slung his gear into the back and then climbed into the commander's seat of the up-armoured HMMWV. Glancing round he was about to ask Seamus how experienced he was with the .50cal but something about the man's posture focussed his attention.

"Seamus. What it is?" he called instead to the man stood up in the rear of the vehicle. "You seen something?" As he spoke he glanced around, surveying the surrounding trees for anything out of place.

Seamus was professional and called down to Mike without taking his eyes off the new contact.

"Nine o'clock. Roughly 30 metres. Four Russian Spetsnaz, possibly more. AKMs, parachutist smocks. Standing still, looking towards our 11 o'clock. Orders?"

He was perfectly willing to shoot up some infantry after what had happened earlier.

Sean glanced in the direction Seamus had indicated, his eyes roving for a half a second before he replied without looking. "If they spot us, light 'em up" he replied, then climbed into the drivers seat of the HMMWV with the M60.

"Last call...we're movin' out." he told their little group, then turned over the engine, put it into gear and began to creep forward, taking one last look around to make sure that everyone was loaded and moving.

"If they look like they're about to engage us then open up and don't hold back," Mike replied to Seamus. "We outgun them with that fifty cal so they need to decide whether they're being brave or just a recon team." Sat in the commander's seat of the M1114 HMMWV Mike unlocked the upper half of the side window as he answered Seamus' question and lowered it down to give himself some kind of firing port. He then moved his M16 around so that he could fire through the partially open window should it all kick off. The underslung grenade launcher made it more difficult but there was enough room.

He also peered through the window trying to spot the people that Seamus had noticed himself. Hopefully though they would just decide to report in rather than engage.

Once Gretchen was aboard Mike then turned to Aleksy. "Get us out of here. Head south to get some distance between us and them."