Tipping Point 06.The Fifth Tunnel by John O'Brien

Author:John O'Brien [John O'Brien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-24T23:00:00+00:00

Initial North Korean Attacks

Chapter Seven

Exhausted from the fight at the ridge, and feeling like he had aged several years over the past few hours, Brent stood on top of his tank. The painted sides were marred with scratches that must have been caused by shrapnel flung from enemy artillery shells landing nearby. One bit of damage particularly caught his eye. He focused on a deep gouge running up the sloped turret, the area around the gleaming metal darkened by heat generated from the impact. Seeing the scar, he realized what a narrow escape it had been. He and his crew could easily have been torched to ash, like his platoon leader.

He eyed the other tanks parked in the rear area. Many exhibited battle damage, their crews, like him, showing their fatigue. Off to one side, recovery vehicles towed several Abrams to forward maintenance areas. Already, personnel were clambering over damaged tanks and other armored vehicles affecting repairs. The bright flare of welders arced as steel plates were welded in place, the sparks flying into the air looking much like when the rounds that caused the damage had hit.

The sights threw Brent off. It seemed to be business as usual when, just a short time ago, he had been in the middle of a hellacious tank battle. People had died and many were injured, as evidenced by medical personnel still carrying wounded from arriving trucks. This wasn't what he had expected since the brigade had been pulled off the line—and yet, maybe it was. He watched as some soldiers were cleaning out one tank where some of the crew had been injured, the rags and water they were using stained deep red.

Brent had sent the rest of his crew to find something to eat. He’d meet up with them when he figured out what was going on. This new position of platoon leader would take some getting used to.

A soldier ran up to his tank. “Are you Sergeant Carson?” the man asked.

Brent turned from his inspection of the damage. “Yeah, that’s me,” he answered.

“Captain wants to see you.”

Brent scanned around the area, looking for signs of a meeting.

Noticing Brent's searching gaze, the man pointed. “They’re in that tent.”

Sliding off the tank, the sergeant thanked the soldier and crossed the bare dirt field. Pulling open a set of entrance flaps, he hesitated. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the sunlit day to the gloom of the tent’s interior.

“Sergeant Carson, there you are,” an officer greeted him, standing near a piece of plywood resting on two wooden sawhorses. “Come on in.”

Brent joined the gathering, recognizing the company’s other platoon leaders. Although used to officers, it felt a little strange to be counted as one among them. They nodded at him, one giving him a nod and murmured congrats, the salutation subdued because they knew how the field promotion had come about.

“Okay, I’ve just returned from Brigade. It appears that the 7th Corps on our left held at the Imjin,” the captain stated, pointing to a spot on a map laid out on the plywood.

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