Oberstleutnant Klaus Heinrich had been up very early this morning. He listened to the morning briefing from his operations officer, intelligence officer and political officer. The coffee was strong just the way he liked it. He climbed into his T-80 Panzer, the wonderful machine designed by his Russian comrades. He was proud of his posting to this unit.

The unit meandered behind it reconnaissance unit along the snaking route through the mountains just west of the famed 1K zone of One Kilometer zone separating East and West Germany. He felt the tension stiffen in the crew compartment of his panzer as soon as the 1K zone was in their rear view. He passed the wrecked M1 Abrams, M3 Bradleys, BMPs and Panzers of his comrades; the ones who fought with the American armored cavalry forces near the border. He thought he M1 wasn’t that intimidating looking. It allayed his fears.

The column of vehicles climbed the hill. The Russian engines whining as they pulled the 43 ton armored vehicle up the hill. Shortly after reaching the top, his radio crackled to life with reports of enemy panzers and infantry fighting vehicles sightings. He immediately contacted his Fire Support Officer and Air Liaison Officer. It appeared the unit would be going into action soon enough.

@CaptainBritton@Gunther

At 0650 Hours the sun had was upon the eastern horizon behind the invading East Germans. Its rays were spreading out across the European landscape, but not completely risen for another eight minutes. American, German, British and Soviet aircraft continued their deadly ballet in the skies over the Fulda Gap. The NATO and Warsaw Pact forces were inching towards one another and soon a cacophony of cannon fire, explosions and artillery would drown out the screams of dying men in their steel coffins.

The Soviets preferred to send out their reconnaissance assets in front of their main forces and the American unit west of Ansbach could see they were performing according to plan. The gunners sat in their turrets scanning the horizon for targets. Radio traffic was relayed on both sides. A prelude to the Battle of Ansbach was about to begin.

The lead reconnaissance company knew they were coming close. The right platoon, containing the 2nd and 4th Recce sections climbed the hill ahead of them to get a better look at their front. The BMP section went a little higher on the ridge while the BRDM section remained closer to the road. The left platoon continued along the road west of Altfeld until they began hearing spot reports from the other platoon. Then the platoon leader ordered the platoon into the high ground, heading for the woods for concealment.

The reconnaissance company spotted several enemy Abrams platoons and a few Bradley platoons in the hills to their front. They all began reporting these sightings back to higher headquarters.

Meanwhile A Company, 1st battalion, 91st Panzer regiment headed through the valley to their front prepared to attack into the enemy positions they had previously spotted. The first two platoon spotted the armor platoon at the far north end of the enemy position. They attempted to fire on the dug in position and missed all shots.

The Americans returned fire up and down the line with cannon fire and missiles. Although the range was still near the extreme range, the 4th Recce section was eliminated by a combination of mortar and cannon fire. Also, the 2nd platoon, A Company was fired upon by Bradleys using TOW missiles which destroyed three T-80 Main Battle Tanks in the middle of the priority road.

Oberstleutnant Heinrich was prepared to take a few losses. HE was not about to give up. He ordered the remainder of his unit to continue forward and prepare for a general assault into the enemy positions.

"E-T-A thirty seconds on fire mission, over."

Lieutenant Colonel Ethan Rose held the receiver close to his ear, keying down the Push-to-Talk.

"Orchard copies."

"Verified, Notary out." The battalion net went quiet.

Rose leaned against the rear of his commander's hatch, knocking back a swig of lukewarm black coffee from his metal mess cup. It was by no means gourmet, but it was better than nothing after being awakened at oh-dark-thirty for this shit. It was mind numbing, the constant pitter-patter of small arms, the far-off snaps and booms of cannonry. It was almost enough to give someone sensory overload if they weren't focused.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. Three distinct sounds, followed by three far off explosions. The LTC brought the pair of binoculars hanging from his neck to his eyes, observing the carnage. It was all shrouded in smoke kicked up by the high explosives, but it had hit exactly where a column was passing. It was called dead on.

He keyed up his receiver again, setting his mess cup on the lip of the cupola.

"Orchard to Notary, good effect, repeat fire mission. B-D-A to follow, over."

"Notary to Orchard, wilco, out." A voice read back to him, the voice of Captain Scott Battle, his Fire Support Officer in the FIST-V sitting about 20 meters to the command tank's rear. Its laser designator pod panned idly, no doubt gauging ranges, grid coordinates, and all other useful information.

Tucking the receiver back into its loop on his crewman flak jacket, he focused his eyes front, snapping out of the musing he had been doing on the artillery strike, as captivating as it was. Pulling the microphone on his CVC helmet closer to his mouth, he keyed his tank's net.

"Paul, gun up, think I see something bearing about seventy-five."

Without response, the gunner went to work, the turret moving slightly left with a mechanical whirr, tragically knocking over the coffee in the mess tin which LTC Rose had left on the cupola, which earned a groan of disdain from the commander, yet he brought up his binoculars to check the direction in question. This, however, was cut short by a loud snap and a branch above his head splitting in two. A DShK had honed in, and Rose dropped into the commander's seat with a thud, rounds zipping over him wildly. Barely managing to close the hatch, he called over net. "Whatever the fuck that is, engage it!"

The cannon fired with a thunk, the breech knocking back in the turret satisfyingly.

"One times T-80 immobilized! The gunner barked back over net.

"Keep engaging 'em, guide on the other tank with tracers!" Rose ordered, before moving to press his eyes against his periscope, trying to ascertain the strength of their enemy. His receiver came to life with chatter, forcing him to sit back once more.

Before he could even ask for authentication, an anguished voice blew up the net. "Flash, flash, flash! We just got strafed, we lost our second platoon! Savinski's down!" The voice was Captain Parks, the C Company commander, and the Savinski in question was his second-in-command, First Lieutenant Savinski.

"Orchard copies, continue counterfire, updated orders to follow!" Rose barked back, hoping to God that he wouldn't be next. The cannon fired again, and then a third time. The hull shook between loads, a 'tink' sound and a thud that let them know they somehow bounced a shot. The turret loaded, and fired a fourth time, and all crew held their breath.

"Second T-80 is down! No other targets visible!"

For one cherished moment, they could take a breather.

“Comrades, the enemy is burrowed into those ridgelines like ticks on a boar,” oberstleutnant Heinrich called over the radio. “It is our mission to dig them out and eradicate them. They are obstructing our path to reunite our homeland. This western influence of capitalism has gone on too long. Every one of us must do our duty.” Oberstleutnant Heinrich knew the commissar was listening.

“Herr Heinrich,” Oberst Maximilien Muller, the 91st Regimental Commander called over the radio. “Are you prepared to assault your objectives, over?”

“Ja Wohl, mein herr,” Oberstleutnant Heinrich responded. He looked at his wristwatch. It was 0650 hours. “Herr Oberst, we will be on those ridges advancing westward in five minutes.”

“Sehr gut! Don’t let us down. Germany is depending on you, out.”

Heinrich called his Recce company commander, “pull back east of that ridge and head north. Once you pass our main supply route, head for Hasselburg. You may have to bypass the ridge to the west. Stay north of it and look for a safe route there. The battalion will be assaulting soon.”

Heinrich then ordered the rest of the battalion to advance through the crossroads and deploy toward the north east of Ansbach and begin their assault west.

The A Company had already moved through the intersection but lost their 2nd platoon due to direct fire from American Abrams. The first and second platoons moved up just to the right of the small ridge in front of them. The D Company, attached from the infantry battalion, moved in behind them. The B Company moved up to the right of A Company and C Company took the far right of the line. Everyone executed a left face; a battle drill to turn and attack into the enemy.

As soon as the battalion began to deploy, US 155mm Indirect fire began impacting on the road intersection, the entire battalion had to pass through. But since most of the vehicles were armored and buttoned up, the damage was negiligble, but the battalion did lose three T-80 Main Battle Tanks.

Racing across the sky from east to west, were a pair of Sukhoi-25 Frogfoots. The heavily laiden aircraft streaked in at about ten thousand feet, then began a diving run at the known enemy positions west of Ansbach. The two aircraft lined up on the two armor platoons and unleashed a violent salvo of S-13 and S-25 air to ground rockets. The first Frogfoot completely missed its target but tore up the ground and made an impressive splash of orange explosions erupt into the air above. Adjacent to this attack, the second aircraft unleased a similar salvo and struck the four M1 Abrams sending both into secondary explosions killing the sixteen soldiers of second platoon. The two Su-25s pulled out of their dive arced around behind the American armor battalion with the intention of returning to base. At the extend of their arc, a Stinger missile shot up into the sky effortless, striking the fuselage of the second Su-25 causing it to explode on impact. The lone Su-25 streaked back east of the 1K zone and back to a friendly airbase.



Just as the battalion executed its left face and began to advance towards the ridges, all hell broke loose. Just about every American cannon and missile launcher in the area of operations opened up on the battalion. There was a violent rush of fires and explosions ripping up and down the line of East German panzers and infantry fighting vehicles. When it was all over, at least half the battalion was destroyed.

Oberleutnant Heinrich felt the impact of the Armor Piercing Depleted Uranium round which destroyed his tank, but in such a way that he was able to hurriedly crawl out of the turret, across the engine deck and flop onto the ground. The reality is no fewer than fourteen enemy panzers fired on the German battalion commander’s tank. HE was certainly lucky to be alive. As soon as he could get to his feet, he ran to one of the infantry BMPs near the wood line behind him. He called for his UAZ-469 built at the Ulianovsk plant in the Soviet Union.

Before his car arrived, he looked at his wristwatch. It was 0655 Hours. Now he pondered his options. Either we assume a defensive position where they sit or continue the advance. What would he do?

0700 hours, the sun was on the Eastern horizon, fog did not inhabit the low-lying areas today. The thermometer was reading 44 degrees Fahrenheit. The Americans sat in their defensive positions observing the carnage on the battlefield. The East Germans had focused on the American left, but at quite a cost. It was obvious that the T-80 tanks were a match for the M1 Abrams, but only when they were within 1500 meter of each other, that and the fact the American tanks were dug into the ground. The Soviet Close Air Support arm had been quite helpful to the East Germans, but it was not enough to claim a victory. They might be able to get a company past the Americans, but the American defense remained solid.