shook his head. "God, the sun isn't even up and already the bull is getting deep in here. I better get out before I'm drowned." They both chuckled. It's amazing what soldiers find humorous and amusing at
0234 hours.
"I'm going over to 3rd Platoon first and give Garger his early morning lecture on the meaning of radio listening silence. Then I'm going to swing by the Mech Platoon and see how they're doing. I expect to be back for stand-to. When was the last time you checked the batteries?"
"About twenty minutes ago. They should be good until stand-to. "
"You better be right. I don't want to have the track that both the CO and XO occupied be the only one that has to be sla,ed off in the morning. Bad for the image."
With a feigned look of surprise on his face, Uleski shot back, "Image? You mean we're going to start worrying about our image? Do you think the men can take it?"
"At ease there, first lieutenant. XOs as well as platoon leaders can get jacked up in the morning too, you know."
Hunching his head down between his shoulders and putting his hands up in mock surrender, Uleski repeated "Yes, sir, yes, sir, don't beat me too hard, sir," as he turned back toward the radio with a grin on his face.
Digging through the pile of junk that had been his bed, Bannon pulled out his gear and started to get ready. Field jacket, protective mask, web gear with weapon and other assorted items on it, and, of course, the helmet.
Putting on this gear always reminded him of a bull fighter preparing for the arena. All the gear that the well-dressed American soldier was supposed to wear was definitely not designed with the armored vehicle crewman in mind. Bannon was reminded of this when he exited the PC through the small rear troop door. Climbing through this four-foot door was always a challenge. In the dark, with all one's gear on, made it that much more interesting. But at that hour in the morning the last thing he needed was a challenge.
It felt good to Bannon to be able to stand upright and stretch his legs.
The chill and early morning mist were refreshing after being in the cramped PC for hours. It
reminded him, however, more of an April or early May morning back in Pennsylvania than August-the German weather in August was more like a New England spring.
The chill cleared his mind and it began to turn to matters at hand. Yesterday had been hot and sunny, and with as much moisture as there was in
the air, they were bound to have a heavy fog throughout most of the morning. That meant moving a listening post down into the valley to the Team's front, even though the cavalry was still deployed forward. This was the Mech Platoon's job and although they would probably do it automatically as soon as they saw the fog rising, Bannon intended to remind them when he got there. The old saying, "The one time you forget to remind someone of something is the one time he forgets and it is the one time it really needed to be done," kept buzzing through his head.
Bannon's eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. He could now make out images of other nearby vehicles like the headquarters PC he had just exited pulled into the tree line. One track, an Improved Tow Vehicle or ITV, attached to the Team from the mech battalion to which Team Yankee was attached, sat forward at the edge of the tree line. Its camouflage net was off and the hammerheadlike launcher and sight was erect, peering down into the valley below. This track was one of the Team's OPs, or observation posts, using its thermal sight to watch the Team's sector of responsibility through the dark and now through the gathering fog.
Bannon walked over to the ITV to make sure the crew was awake. He stumbled over roots and branches that reached up and grabbed his ankles while low branches swatted him in the face. He stopped for a moment, pushed the offending branches out of the way and began to go forward again, remembering this time to pick up his feet to clear the stumps and using
0234 hours.
"I'm going over to 3rd Platoon first and give Garger his early morning lecture on the meaning of radio listening silence. Then I'm going to swing by the Mech Platoon and see how they're doing. I expect to be back for stand-to. When was the last time you checked the batteries?"
"About twenty minutes ago. They should be good until stand-to. "
"You better be right. I don't want to have the track that both the CO and XO occupied be the only one that has to be sla,ed off in the morning. Bad for the image."
With a feigned look of surprise on his face, Uleski shot back, "Image? You mean we're going to start worrying about our image? Do you think the men can take it?"
"At ease there, first lieutenant. XOs as well as platoon leaders can get jacked up in the morning too, you know."
Hunching his head down between his shoulders and putting his hands up in mock surrender, Uleski repeated "Yes, sir, yes, sir, don't beat me too hard, sir," as he turned back toward the radio with a grin on his face.
Digging through the pile of junk that had been his bed, Bannon pulled out his gear and started to get ready. Field jacket, protective mask, web gear with weapon and other assorted items on it, and, of course, the helmet.
Putting on this gear always reminded him of a bull fighter preparing for the arena. All the gear that the well-dressed American soldier was supposed to wear was definitely not designed with the armored vehicle crewman in mind. Bannon was reminded of this when he exited the PC through the small rear troop door. Climbing through this four-foot door was always a challenge. In the dark, with all one's gear on, made it that much more interesting. But at that hour in the morning the last thing he needed was a challenge.
It felt good to Bannon to be able to stand upright and stretch his legs.
The chill and early morning mist were refreshing after being in the cramped PC for hours. It
reminded him, however, more of an April or early May morning back in Pennsylvania than August-the German weather in August was more like a New England spring.
The chill cleared his mind and it began to turn to matters at hand. Yesterday had been hot and sunny, and with as much moisture as there was in
the air, they were bound to have a heavy fog throughout most of the morning. That meant moving a listening post down into the valley to the Team's front, even though the cavalry was still deployed forward. This was the Mech Platoon's job and although they would probably do it automatically as soon as they saw the fog rising, Bannon intended to remind them when he got there. The old saying, "The one time you forget to remind someone of something is the one time he forgets and it is the one time it really needed to be done," kept buzzing through his head.
Bannon's eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. He could now make out images of other nearby vehicles like the headquarters PC he had just exited pulled into the tree line. One track, an Improved Tow Vehicle or ITV, attached to the Team from the mech battalion to which Team Yankee was attached, sat forward at the edge of the tree line. Its camouflage net was off and the hammerheadlike launcher and sight was erect, peering down into the valley below. This track was one of the Team's OPs, or observation posts, using its thermal sight to watch the Team's sector of responsibility through the dark and now through the gathering fog.
Bannon walked over to the ITV to make sure the crew was awake. He stumbled over roots and branches that reached up and grabbed his ankles while low branches swatted him in the face. He stopped for a moment, pushed the offending branches out of the way and began to go forward again, remembering this time to pick up his feet to clear the stumps and using
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