None of this impressive array of weaponry was, of course, loaded for our training exercise. In addition, my squad had two 90mm recoilless rifles, which looked like old-time World War II bazookas, but had more range and carried a lot more punch. The result was the classic crossfire pattern, which in combat would have forced the enemy off the road in our direction, right into the fire of four eight-man rifle squads lying in ambush between the machine guns. At the other end, the weapons squad was setting up another M-60, positioned to rake the road in the other direction. Down on the far end of the crescent, Simpkins' squad had set up their M-60 machine gun to command a clear view down the road as it departed from the corner. We were in a good position Donaldson knew what he was doing. On our side, a snow-and-stubble covered field stretched away to the right, toward another woodline. On the far side of the road, twenty yards or so distant, was another stand of woods. We'd spring our hit-and-run ambush on the convoy expected through sometime during the next two hours, then melt away over the ridge. We positioned ourselves in a crescent-shaped deployment back up in the trees on a fairly steep hillside.īelow us a small road snaked along the edge of the hill we centered ourselves on the outside of a ninety-degree turn, far enough from the crest not to be visible against the skyline if we stood up, but close enough to the top to scramble over it quickly. Setting up the ambush beat standing around freezing to death. Donaldson barked orders into the freezing air and we got moving.
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