The Black Effect (Cold War) Read Online Free PDF Page A

mechanised infantry company, less the platoon defending the forest to the north, along with five Milan firing posts, were still capable of putting up some resistance when the attack they knew was inevitable came. The Soviet High Command had allotted Frog-7, Scud-B and BM-27 missile launchers for the main bombardment on the towns of Braunschweig and Wolfenbuttel. They had only one intention: to smash the covering force once and for all and keep the momentum of the army, of over 1,500,000 men, advancing west.
    Barsukov came up alongside, and Trusov felt the shudder as Kokorev started the tank’s engines. He looked at his tank commander and tapped his watch, holding five fingers in the air. “Five minutes,” he mouthed.
    Trusov nodded in acknowledgement. There would be no radio messages, no waving of flags in the air like they did in the early days, but his unit knew to pull out in exactly five minutes and attack. To the north, Captain Yakovlev’s recce company, two platoons of BMP and one of T-80s, would conduct a feint to the south-east of Braunschweig, distracting the enemy, also acting as 62GTR’s right flank protection. The scout-car company of BRDM-2s would form a screen on the regiment’s left flank, warning the unit of any enemy counter-attack. Lieutenant Colonel Aminev’s third-battalion with its remaining twenty-six T-80s would strike south, under cover of a smokescreen provided by a battery of the regiment’s 2S1s. His unit would try and filter through the wood to the north of Wolfenbuttel. The motorcycle section from the recce company would help guide them through. The motor rifle battalion would head straight for the centre of the wooded area, fighting their way through the battered British forces there, meeting up with 3rd Battalion’s tanks. Once the wood was secured, the infantry would fulfil their role as the regiment’s reserve, and remain there.
    Unknown to the Soviet forces, the British infantry, the remnants of two platoons, one from Combat Team Alpha in the north and a platoon from Combat Team Bravo in the south, were already pulling back to a safe area in the rear. They had done their job – in spite of the fact that they felt like they were retreating taking their casualties with them. But they had left at least fifteen men behind, dead, some unrecognisable after the battering they had received from the Soviet rockets. The soldiers were asking – no – demanding to know where their help was from their own artillery and air force. British artillery had scored some successes in their counter-battery fire missions, but with so many targets out there and the constant need to move to ensure they weren’t targeted themselves, they had little effect in significantly reducing the array of tubes and missiles aimed at their armour and infantry. The air force was in a fight for its own survival. Heavy air and missile attacks on the NATO airfields, along with Spetsnaz sabotage, had disrupted their ability to support their forward troops to any great extent. Protecting reinforcements speeding to the front, preventing their precious airfields from being made unusable and fighting off the Soviet air force that attacked in wave after wave, there was little they could do for their covering force.
    The sudden silence was almost disorientating; the artillery bombardment ceased almost as one. A fug of smoke had manifested itself along an entire ninety-degree front ahead of Trusov’s tank. He caught a whiff of propellant on the breeze, coming from the mass of Soviet artillery that had been firing for the last hour.
    Whoosh, whoosh...whoosh, whoosh.
    Trusov and Barsukov looked up at the sky-blue underbellies of two pairs of Sukhoi SU-25s as they shattered the silence that had lasted for a mere few seconds. The shoulder-mounted trapezoidal and conventional tailplane gave the jet a unique silhouette. Weapons were slung beneath the five hardpoints beneath each wing. Two carried 57mm rocket pods, more death to rain