Never Again by Bill Fawcett

Author:Bill Fawcett [Fawcett, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Theogony Books
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20: 24 March, Year 10

Bianza Pass

“We’ve reached the second day of the war,” Lieutenant Werzan observed shortly after midnight, “and the enemy hasn’t made it over the pass.”

Whatever reply Colonel Karim might have made was drowned out by the explosive concussion of another barrage of 130mm shells. The militia commander estimated that something like two dozen of the massive howitzers had been brought to bear on his position. These most recent explosions shattered the rock slope and destroyed a section of the primitive road leading up to the summit. Eight had died there or were buried alive. He couldn’t tell if any more of his young Peshmerga had been killed in the volley.

In his broken heart, he wondered how much it really mattered. It was hard to deny that all these brave, loyal Kurds were likely to die here—die as his wife had died, smashed by the crushing power of the big Persian guns. He cursed in impotent rage, hating that death was being dealt by weapons he couldn’t see and didn’t even know for certain the location of. And yet they continued to devastate the youths he’d watched grow up in his village with violent, devastating accuracy.

But those brave people wouldn’t surrender their lives cheaply. In the brief interval after the latest volley of shells, Karim heard the sharp crump of Kurdish mortars launching their own small bombs from just beyond the crest of the pass. The little tubes were no match for the big, Russian-made howitzers employed by the attackers, but the quick, sharp explosions sparking in the valley below should serve to slow the enemy infantry’s advance and encourage the Iranian troops to keep their heads down. A soldier with his head down has a difficult time finding a target for his rifle.

Other mortars launched flares, and as the magnesium torches blossomed in the sky, hundreds of enemy targets were revealed, mostly lying prone, seeking to claw their way into the rocky ground. The Kurds’ heavy machine guns, high on the slopes above the pass, opened up and rained fat .50-caliber slugs onto the battlefield, chewing up the ground, bursting rocks into splinters, and tearing through flesh when they found one of the exposed enemy soldiers.

When the flares darkened and sputtered out, the guns fell silent—but a few minutes later, more flares ignited, and the carnage began again. The enemy artillery spotters redirected their guns, but the machine gun nests were dug in and protected by overhanging ledges of rock. Both survived the barrages and resumed their lethal rain. Knowing ammunition was a factor, Karim reluctantly ordered parties of Peshmerga volunteers to make the dangerous climb in the darkness, carrying heavy crates of belted ammo up to the two guns.

Even so, as the minutes ticked past through one, going on two hours past midnight, the sporadic firing from down the slope steadily increased in volume and intensity. When the flares fired, Karim could see the Persians darting forward in small groups, seeking momentary shelter behind rocks and gullies, but always popping up again to continue the advance.

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