Blackhorse Riders by Keith Philip A

Author:Keith, Philip A. [Keith, Philip A. ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 2012-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

1820, MARCH 26, 1970, TEAM ALPHA AND CHARLIE COMPANY, COMBINED BATTLE FORMATION

Lieutenant Henderson, commanding 3rd Platoon, was still deferring, as well he might, to his platoon sergeant, SFC Robert Foreman. Henderson had to “make his bones,” and this firefight would ultimately qualify. In the meantime, he carefully absorbed everything his experienced platoon sergeant was doing. Foreman did not fail Henderson or his men.

The platoon was in the middle of the formation and on point. Whenever there was an opportunity, Foreman inched his Sheridan forward. If there was a crack in the enemy line, he skillfully exploited it. The powerful Sheridan main guns packed a wallop, that was certain, but the skins of the tanks themselves were very vulnerable. The aluminum hulls could be pierced by heavy machine-gun bullets, RPGs, and large ordnance. Experienced TCs like Foreman knew this, of course, so as they blasted away they tried to maneuver to advantage. It was desirable to keep as small a profile to the enemy as possible. Simply put, this meant trying not to expose the long, flat sides of the track to direct fire.

The TC, who commanded from the turret and fired the .50 cal, was terribly exposed. To alleviate this problem, a field modification for the TC’s big machine gun had been made: An extra steel rim was welded to the circumference of the turret. Steel shields were attached to the rim on a ball-bearing array that could rotate. It was far from a perfect solution, but it measurably increased the survivability of the TC in combat.

As the opposing forces pushed and shoved against one another, Foreman slowly moved forward, the nearby ACAVs advancing with him. The NVA shoved back. Drivers, gunners, and loaders all sustained wounds, and as they quit their vehicles to get medical attention, substitutes endeavored to take their places. A number of stand-ins came from Alpha Company. Although these men had no experience whatsoever in operating the Sheridans or the ACAVs, some of the guns, like the M-60s, were familiar to them. In any case, they did not hesitate to step up and try to take over whenever a need presented itself.

Poindexter could clearly see that a stalemate was developing. Team Alpha still had sufficient ammunition left and the determination to use it, but darkness was approaching swiftly. The NVA were showing no signs of fleeing, and nightfall would shift the momentum to their side. It was time to consult his battalion commander. Conrad, who had gone off to refuel, was back, circling above and behind the battle once more.

From inside A-66, Poindexter reached for the radio communications control box and switched over to the battalion frequency. Just as he opened his mouth to call Conrad, a thunderous explosion enveloped him and tossed him, unconscious, to the ammo-strewn deck.

* * *

Sgt. Bill Daniels, the gunner on A-37, was firing round after round of canister into the bunker complex. He felt as if he and his loader were acting like a fine-tuned machine: spot-load-shoot, spot-load-shoot. They were working as smoothly and as swiftly as the physics of the gun and its reloading would allow.

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