Mastiff

very good mission... loved it, but why after I have seen a unit they disappear again when they are known..

Certainly. You just have to rename the .wav file as noted above and put it in a folder with perhaps the same name. I think that will work after you put that in your mod folder in Black Sea.

​Just added to the repository and so hopefully available in the next 24 hours.
 
Two very simple alternatives for the ingame roadsigns. These were designed with no more intent than to add an element of colour and interest. Hence they may not be geographically accurate.
 
 
  
 
or
 
 

 
Rename the preferred texture to roadsign.bmp and add to mods folder or activate via a tag.
 
P

Actually, I think the stereo setting is fine for the music.  I just checked an waclaw's file is in full stereo.
 
Here is the stereo version via Drop Box:
 
https://www.dropbox.com/s/3ondlfw0cm7ya62/alt%20Black%20Sea%20music%20stereo.zip?dl=0
 
 

Finally working on this mod. Was delayed due to holding up the CMBS release date doing textures.
 
It has turned out to be a full rebuild of the CMSF version, due to different sized tiles, and also due to my finding that I couldn't understand my own mod without the reference sheet. *FAIL*
I have all the vehicle tiles done in bglow and plain-bglow, so I'll put them up for review - hopefully to find any necessary corrections before I generate all the other versions. (In the mean time I'm working on the gun silhouettes.)
 
All values are estimates. My estimates may vary from yours ( or BFC's ).
 
Armour estimates used where data is unavailable:
Turret side = Turret front / 2.5
Hull side = Glacis / 3
Lower Hull front = Glacis / 2
1st gen ERA = +250mm CE  +100mm KE
2nd gen ERA = +400mm CE  +200mm KE
3rd gen ERA = +600mm CE  +300mm KE
Bar armour = +150mm CE
 
http://www.scribd.com/doc/6032093/Armor-Basics#scribd
 
Just remember - pointy bar graphs for pointy shells ( ie KE penetration)
 

 
bglow-v01.zip
plain-bglow-v01.zip

Wolfseven, if you are talking about the FOW icons, they do work but are not represented in the picture.

They replace the white picket fences. They're nice but I wanted something a bit grimmer. It is nothing special but it might be useful until Kieme or Juju release something better. Same resolution as the default picket fence.
 
 

 
 

 
 
(Don't mind the trees, they're not from me, it is a port from CMBN, I am just working on a wintery map.)
 
 
I also got these dingy run down and rusty corrugated walls that replace stone walls. Not sure whether it is worth it to upload them, I am not entirely satisfied with them. The repeat is maybe a bit too obvious and they look weird from the side or from a top down view.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 

Some preview images:

 

 
 

 

 
Enjoy!

got my install sorted last nite..
for me this was a very rare bad experience with battlefront. that being said, everybody makes mistakes and i'm confident that battlefront will learn from this. i do believe as a pre order type we should have the field to ourselves for 24hrs. just my 2 cents

Big gun muzzle flashes and explosions
 

 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 
Small Arms Muzzle Flashes
 

 
 
Flames and Hit decals
 

 
 
At the moment if you want them PM me and I'll send you a dropbox link. To PM me click on my name and on the right you will see the button: 'Send me a message'.
When the Repository is up to speed I'll add them there.
 
Smoke and Tracers are also in there.
 
V

“Blackknight Six, this is Blackknight Five, over.”  LT Romero, the XO of B CO, called his commander.  His Bradley, along with B CO’s first PLT, was driving hard for hill 347 and helped in decimating the Russian mech PLT in the field where Outlaw 16 had died. 
“This is Six, send it.”
“Just linked up on ground with Outlaw elements.  Confirm that 16 actual is down and will work a nine-line MEDEVAC for their personnel.  They state that the Russians right in front of us have at least two T-90s hull-down at the base of the hill.  I say again, there are tanks to our direct front, close range!”
 
CPT Fuller ponders this for several seconds.  He had planned to send his tank PLT to sweep wide to the left, reducing remain in resistance in the small copses of trees between fields and orienting fires to the south, around and behind 347.  He shifted gears in an instant. 
 
“Roger, break, Blue 1 this is six, over.” 
 
“Six, this Blue One, I monitored.”  LT Trevor Stanley from Pittsburgh responded with clipped precision, indicating he heard the report from Blackknight Five as well.  Although just a second lieutenant, Stanley was a graduate of Officer Candidate School.  A former 11B sergeant, he had fought two deployments in Afghanistan, both to RC-East in Khost, during which time he had earned both an Army Commendation Medal and a Bronze Star, each with a “V” device, for valor.  After OCS he amazed his instructors by requesting to branch Armor, rather than Infantry.  He like to joke that it was too much work to fight dismounted, and his inherent laziness combined with his penchant for muscle cars made tanks a natural fit.  He was easily the most competent platoon leader in Farmer’s company, and his tanks were drilled to a razor’s edge.   Farmer could hear the turret hydraulics of Stanley’s tank in the background – the turret never stopped scanning as the LT replied to his commander.  He had just completed a quick spot report in BFT2 indicating his wingman had engaged and destroyed a BMP far to the south, and was preparing to bound his platoon sergeant’s section forward to begin sweeping left.
 
“Blue One, change of plans.  Red continues towards 347 and provides overwatch with Javelins and TOWs to deny anyone getting back up on the hill.  Need you to shift from left to center and find those tanks.  Work to get them focused in two directions at once.”
“Blue one roger.”
“Red one roger!”
“White, you take over the left side and clear those treelines.  Power Six posts a BMP and Flak tank also at the base of the hill.  Red, ensure you keep those pinned down so they don’t distract Blue.  We’ll flush them with arty if we have to.  Take it slow and don’t rush to failure, over.”
Even as CPT Farmer spoke, he watched his platoons respond.  Red one was just to his front, and looked back.  Farmer waved and then pointed directly towards the BMP and Tunguska the Battalion Commander had posted in BFT2.  The lieutenant gave a thumbs up, and Farmer saw his right hand go to his right ear, keying his radio and speaking.  Farmer could not hear him as he was talking on his platoon internal net, but he could see the Soldiers responding.  Infantrymen loaded back onto their Bradleys, and the platoon began bounding forward, as stationary elements kept up a strong fire on the remaining Russian dismounts in the field ahead.
 

 
http://youtu.be/-PeFDwEGIe8
 
Power 3 finishing the Russian infantry from the BMP-3 Power 6 destroyed previously.  Both are holding position in the center waiting for Blackknight to flush or destroy the remaining BMP-3 and Tunguska to their front.
 
“Tactical patience,” Farmer thought, “we really need to develop this situation and see what is really out here.”  White 1, Lieutenant Murphy, was charged with getting a Raven UAS up to observe 347 itself.  Telling him to hustle would not help.  Farmer checked the BFT2 again, and then pulled up his binoculars to watch the company advance.  As he watched, a Blue tank fired again, the AMP round hammering more of the Russian infantry in front of Red.  Then he saw his FST’ers work, as a short quick fire mission of 155mm rounds crashed directly onto a farm complex to the company’s front. 
“Conducting the Symphony of Destruction!”  Farmer grinned to himself and continued to watch his company at work.
 
http://youtu.be/9CGgSUtV6l4
 
Symphony of Destruction, first chord...
 
 
“Steel Five, this is White One, over.” 
“Send it!”  LT Sheridan was moving, thinking and reacting faster than he ever had in his life.  He was still desperately fighting to find any remaining Russian infantry in close proximity to his tank, urging his gunner and loader to try and get the 120mm cannon back into operation and trying to consolidate some control over the disrupted company. 
“This is White One, we have reached the road.  Spotted enemy victors pulling back east down it.  Think we killed two and are continuing to engage, break.”
“Also have good eyes on south slope of Hill 347.  Engaged and destroyed one BMP3 up there for sure.  Continuing to scan, over.”
“This is Steel Five, roger, hold what you got until we can get this Russian outpost sorted out.”  Even as he spoke, Steel’s first platoon was indeed getting it sorted out.  The tanks pulled forward, reoriented to their right and began tearing into Russian infantry with their .50 caliber machineguns. 
“Blue one, Steel Five, have your FO start working up the mortars to hammer the gully to our front.  I want that thing plastered!” 
“Roger, over!” 
 

 

 

 

 
“Vovk, this is Brytva 22.  We are at our position at the north end of the town.  Borsuk 21 is destroyed.  We didn’t see what did it.  We have fired at some infantry to our front, and believe there is an element on our east flank, but we are secure here.  Believe the enemy has a foothold in Krichek, but with infantry to help we can probably push them back out, over.” 
KPT Kovtun winced at the news of another destroyed BMP-2 – his last remaining – but was heartened by the optimism of the Flakpanzer commander.  Serzhant Levitsky was usually far from optimistic, and if he was acting so positively it must mean he felt the situation was well in control.  He turned to MAJ Harris who was working diligently on his PDA.
“Is it done?” 
“Roger that, Kapitain.  We are tied into the Task Force fires net now.  Couple of minutes and the top of that hill should get flattened.  But make sure he knows that SFC Bagby is headed up that way on his left”
Kovtun turned back to the radio.  “Brytva 22, American artillery will hit the hilltop to support you.  If you need it adjusted let us know.  You retain control of my command truck and the squad and machinegun team with them.  Continue to hold the north end of the town.  Be alert for the American Team Sergeant – he is moving up to recon on your left.”
MAJ Harris paused before heading out the door back to his HMMWV.
“Oh, and SPC O’Brian on the far bank managed to destroy an enemy T-90.  With the first two company-teams in range now, the Russians should have a very hard time.
Kovtun nodded to the American, without a smile.  “Good.” He said.
 

It seems the Russian jamming is so good that you can't even get a sitrep out.  I hope you haven't been grid-squared.

ChrisND, you have been awesome with the update. You have no idea how important it is doing this... talking to your customers and letting them know what's going on. This makes us feel and know you care because you do and you take time to post updates. We really appreciate it a lot.

The Eighteenth Minute - Part 1
 
Tons of action this turn, so this is going to be rather lengthy.  This scenario has devolved into two major battles.. my 1st and 2nd MRCs against Scott's Americans, and the battle to reduce the pocket.  Both are complicated affairs, at least from my point of view... Scott has terrific visibility across most of the map and I am learning that some areas are now shut off from me.  He is slowly restricting my maneuver choices with his overwhelming fire superiority.
 
1st MRC
 
Happy to report that the Bradley Fire Support Vehicle (FSV) that was hit by an RPG round last turn was indeed knocked out.. interestingly, only one hatch opened, which could mean that only the driver survived... which would be good news as it would reduce, slightly, Scott's fire support flexibility.

 
Across from my initial screen of RPG teams and the BMP platoon Scott withdrew into a tighter formation... he killed one RPG team this turn and degraded one other.  I moved one BMP (under a smoke screen) from the gully they were deployed in to hopefully a flank position on Scott's company... it moved into position just fine but gained no spots during the turn.. I will move it again next turn to try to get in to Scott's rear.

 
Looking from Scott's perspective... you can see how tight the US Company team is now positioned.  My BMP #1 has a spot on two M1s.. umm.. if I can see them, guaranteed they can see me... could be trouble.

 
I have no clue how this M1 from the US Company Team North saw this 1st MRC BMP all the way across the map.. but it did, and it quickly destroyed it:

 

 
2nd MRC
 
Scott is still taking his time moving in on 2nd MRC... I have four vehicles remaining as can be seen below (x3 BMP-3, Tunguska).. not a lot of combat power, but enough to keep Scott busy for a several more turns hopefully.  Note the US Scout (single man) next to the Tunguska... and the Ukrainian soldier on the hill.. I have a feeling these two units are giving Scott some great intel.. that is not good.
 
Seven turns until my aircraft arrive in the AO.

 
Power Plant
 
I finally got a hole in that damned wall this turn... so with that in place the following is my assault plan... 
 
I have had a team in this area for a few turns.. was hoping they would spot a minefield if one existed across this opening.. they have not so I will attempt to enter the compound with this team in this direction. This team will enter through the hole made by my T90 a few minutes ago.  the intent for this team and the team at #1 is to be a diversion for the main thrust through the gap at #3...  With a BMP in the gap I will suppress the buildings within and enter through this hole with a full platoon of infantry, they will clear the compund one building at a time. I was hoping I would get a hole in this corner of the compound as well.. but alas my BMP failed to get a breach.  The platoon in this area will remain in reserve for now. 
 
Scott can now overwatch the road I have been using to move my Assault Company into action... in one action that is going to come back to haunt me..  the battalion HQ track (BMP-2K) with the FAC team was spotted and destroyed by Scott's overwatching unit.. probably an M1... 

i've been in a T-72.. pretty awful and cramped.. wouldnt fight in one for anything but look at videos of the inside of theT-90A and T-90AM (with a separate bustle for ammo and CRT and touchscreens all over the place which is easier on the mind and for situational awareness and air conditioning) and it's much  much better!
 
You can have a nice look here, yeah they like to boast but who doesnt, the beginning is actually overcompensation and shows more about their lack of confidence than anything else  
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UeMVApuN2gE

Commitment:  
Posts up to arrival of MB up by midnight.  Turn of doom by tomorrow at midnight.
 
FWIW "mere minutes" per Banemen = about an hour and a half per post.  Quit whining, unless you want to come out here and rub my feet while I write.  

pnzrldr , I think you need to just hit the surrender button, your not going to catch up.

Thanks Dan.  Perhaps I will.  I'm already a grade ahead of Harold Coyle I think - didn't he get out as a Major?  I actually read Team Yankee as a pre-release review copy when I was in high school, hence, Armor officer today.  I was already well on the way though.  My Dad was the Regimental SIGO for the 2nd ACR in Nuremburg back in the day.  Took me to Graf to watch the Regiment shoot a Combined Arms Live Fire exercise.  When I saw the tanks shoot I was hooked!    If I ever do write I might be crazy enough to try Sci-fi.  I corresponded with David Drake once upon a time.  If anyone out there hasn't read "Hammer's Slammers," let me make a shameless plug for it.  Best tanker Sci-Fi ever written, and top 10% in military sci-fi in general.  Someone had a 'reading list' thread floating in here somewhere if I recall.  Perhaps I should go lurk on it a bit.

Michael Emrys,
 
Very cool! Thanks for posting the vid. I'd vaguely recalled some mention of it, but had never heard it. And since you did all of us a favor, here's one back.
 

 
BletchleyGeek,
 
I had no idea Spanish had an umlaut. But then, high school was a long time ago. Also, I've read the new movie about Alan Turing "Imitation Life" is spot on. Given your handle, this seemed like something worth mentioning to you. If you don't already know.
 
Regards,
 
John Kettler

PFC Purtle hollered down to the armored truck’s driver to stop.
“Hold up here.  We don’t want to get too far back from Sergeant Bagby.”
“What are you talking about?” the young Private responded, “He said to leave him. The whole world is blowing up on that hillside!” 
“Just hang here a few minutes,” Purtle ordered, “I’ll see what I can do.”  He finished clipping the lead round from a new box of 40mm HEDP onto the dangling belt from his Mk19, swung the weapon around, and adjusted the traverse and elevation mechanism to lay the heavy gun on the hillside a scant 300m away.  All he could see were trees, with smoke sifting up through the leaves. 
“Well, what the hell, they won’t like these grenades going off over their heads,” he thought, and loosed a quick burst, followed by another.  He had no solid target, but shooting back at anything felt good, and soothed his jangling nerves.
 

 
On the other side of the hill, KPT Antonyuk spoke emphatically into his handset, his tone imperative. 
“No, you must pull back.  There are too many, and they are on the south side too.  Get your men back to the gully!  Now!” 
“Is that LT Kolomiyets, with Second?”  his RTO asked. 
“Yes, but he is not himself.  He must lead his men back….” 
As the Kapeytan spoke, the “TCHANK, TCHANK, TCHANK!” hammer on anvil sound came again from behind the 2nd Platoon Positions.  Moments later yet another column of smoke rose into the sky, marking the destruction of yet another Ukrainian BMP-2, this one belonging to PdPK Levchenko himself.  Antonyuk looked to his rear for his commander, and saw him with his team headed back down towards the gully to their rear.  Cannon shells from up on the hillside and across the valley kept whipping across, each one detonating above the surviving infantrymen of 2nd Platoon, each with a fearful “Craccckk!”  Antonyuk watched in helpless agony as yet another team of dismounts hit the ground and lay still.  Then another round zipped past from the south, this one seemingly close enough to reach up and grab as it passed.  It detonated closer, and tight behind.  The Ukrainian officer gasped in shock as he recognized that it had found its mark, directly over his commander’s team.  He saw the haze of smoke in the air, and the dust thrown up on the ground from the shrapnel’s impact, all around his trusted mentor.  He said a brief prayer, and as it cleared he saw PdPK Levchenko still moving forward, though one of his party now lay still. 
“This is a disaster,” Antonyuk thought, “We must save what we can.  I wonder if the mortars can retreat in time.”  He grabbed the handset again and began speaking.
 

 

 
North of PFC Purtle’s position, LT Upham assessed the situation.  He was desperately working his way through his PACE plan, trying first his primary – his MNVR radio, then his alternate – his Blue Force Tracker 2, then his contingency – TACSAT (couldn’t find the bird) and finally his emergency communications systems.  His emergency system was a locally procured GSM cell phone he had picked up in Lviv, but to operate it he had to shut off his Bradley’s on board electronic warfare set.  While he was frantically working his way through this, his crew was helping SSG Svendson’s team cross loading the Javelin rounds.  It took less than a minute, but time seemed precious.  Upham hated his position – as soon as Purtle and Svendson had pulled back he had lost his eyes up front, and now had no idea how close the Russian elements had drawn. 
“Sir, we’re good to go.” 
“Dammit – frickin’ phone.  Good Sergeant, I need you to move back up so you can see what’s coming.  Move carefully up about 50m that way, where I came from, and get eyes on the hillside.  I’m pretty sure you should get a Jav shot in short order.  Don’t hang for two, just shoot and scoot like we practiced.  Haul ass back here.  I’ll send your truck back another terrain feature.”
“Roger that Sir.  Anything from Battalion at all?” 
“Not a damn thing.  Go kill a tank and I’ll bet I’ve got them up before you get back.”
The grim look in the NCO’s eyes struck the young collegian like a brick.  But he took the hit and nodded. 
“Good luck.  We’ll back you up.” 
He tucked the apparently useless phone back in his cargo pocket, and clambered up the side of the Bradle, hooking up his headset as he dropped into the BC’s hatch.  Without usable comms the scouts had no access to covering artillery, attack aviation, Air Force close air support or any other help, including MEDEVAC.  Nor could they do their actual job of communicating the enemy’s disposition to their Battalion leadership.  Upham hoped that comms would clear as the rapid columns of heavy armor drew nearer.
 

At the edge of Krickek, a 30 year old Ukrainian private was smoking a cigarette.  He was a rough looking character, with a light beard over heavy acne scars, and the tobacco stains on his teeth hid the poor dental repairs.  But despite his ragamuffin appearance, he was alert and was keeping his smoke low in the hole he shared with a young high school kid from Kiev. 
“There, look…” he said, carefully setting his smoking cigarette against a sandbag. 
“It is a Russian – you see him Bubi?”
“Don’t call me that, you derelict.  Of course I see him.  Are you going to shoot him, or just admire him?”
The veteran grinned, never taking his eyes from the Russian trooper, creeping along a hedgeline in the little ville on the far side of the river.  For such a young punk, this kid had spirit!  He gave the AGS-17 grenade launcher a nudge to the left, and triggered a burst without even rechecking his aim.  The machinegun chuckled, and spat out a short stream of deadly little balls – like black little golf balls he thought, as he followed their short flight.  The rounds bracketed the hedge, detonating close around the Russian soldier, who quickly dropped from sight.  The private fired three more bursts for good measure, precisely dropping the grenades onto both sides of the hedge.  No more could be seen, but a shout in Russian seemed to promise that at least some of their fire had done some damage.  He smiled a crooked grin, and tucked his cigarette back into the corner of his mouth.  With the dust raised by their firing, it could hardly give away their position now.  Behind him another volley of artillery slammed down on Krichek, shattering street cobbles, bricks and roof tiles, as it detonated against the streets. 
 
http://youtu.be/jyIP2M3Av3s
 

 

 
LT Lysenko was wondering exactly who had his range.  He wasn’t certain, but his little post had taken nearly 20 rounds of something, and though he thought initially they had been seen by a tank, now he feared someone had zeroed in on his little band with a deadly large mortar, perhaps two.  The rounds came it at fairly regular intervals, and though he couldn’t get a direction from inside, they certainly seemed to be falling from above rather than below.  He popped his head up long enough to see a Russian infantryman plowing through the wheat, heading towards him from the north, then ducked as another bomb whistled in before detonating against the roof of the power plant stack to his east.   He strained to catch the fall of shot against the truck he had targeted with his own mortars, but could not see anything but a cloud of dust in that direction.  They must be on though, and he carefully pulled the radio set from his dead RTO’s back to raise the antenna so he could make the call.  
 

SSG Venar wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good.  The Ukrainian infantry up the slope from him seemed to be having a bad time of it, and the shrapnel from the airburst they continued to receive rattled the trees above his head.  He turned to his teammate.
“We need to get the hell out of here.  Lets go.  I’ll call the LT as we move.”
 The two scouts began slithering back down the hill towards the gully they had infiltrated along.  As they moved, Venar keyed his mike and spoke into his headset.
“Fernandez, you there?  I don’t see you.  Where did you go?”
His driver responded almost immediately, gasping loudly,
“Outlaw 13, this is 13 Delta!  We had to pull back.  We got hit – no idea where it came from, we were just sitting there and BAM!  The right fender is all blown to ****!  I think the run flat is still okay, but I don’t know if it hurt the engine, or…”
“Delta, are you in cover?”
“Roger, I backed further up the gully.  I’m pretty sure no one can see us from here.  Michaels is checking the right side.”
“Okay, hang tight.  We’re gonna try and get back to you.  Too hot up here.  Switching higher, so just hang on.  13 out.”  Venar switched his radio over by feel, and immediately keyed on the platoon net.
“One Six, this is One Tree, over.” 
“This is One Six, send it.”
“One Tree, it is way hot here.  Green boys on the hill are getting their ass handed to them by our friends in red.  Could not stay.  Displacing back.  My Delta says our truck took a hit.  Seems to still run, but will have to assess when I get back.”
“Roger, bound back and stay under cover.  Let me know when you are remounted.”
“Wilco, out.”  The two scouts began working their way down into the ravine. The veteran NCO turned to his teammate.
“Get that AT-4 ready.  I don’t like those engine noises, and that green BMP over there is backing up.” 
 

 

 
On the south side of the hill, SGT Cox continued his crawl, cursing all the way.  He could not believe that his team had not worn their anti-thermal Ghillie suits.  He would never be sure, but he felt those might have hidden them from view.  His crawl was slow and deliberate, as he had been taught, and as he had done numerous times in training and in Afghanistan.  He gradually worked his way back towards his torn teammates, focused on at least recovering their dog tags, and double checking to ensure they were both actually dead.  Unfortunately, his premonition on vulnerability to thermal sights was well founded.  A Russian tank gunner on the south side of the wheat field, equipped with solid second-generation thermal imaging sights, courtesy of the French company Thales, caught a hint of movement from within the treeline.  The commander told his gunner to fire if he thought he saw troops, and a 125mm high explosive fragmentation round screamed across the intervening kilometer in less than a second.  Though it missed him by over 20 meters, the shell exploded at a height of nearly 5 meters off the ground, blasting steel shards at lethal velocity in all directions.  SGT Cox felt his body struck by half a dozen splinters.  Three drove into his body armor and stopped, bruising him, but doing little harm.  Two tore into his right arm and shoulder, piercing his muscle but doing recoverable damage.  The last was a strip that failed to fully fragment, nearly 20 cm long and razor sharp, peeled from the length of the bursting shell, still flying at nearly 600m per second when it struck him in the left leg just below the knee.  Dazed but still conscious, SGT Cox clamped his left hand down on his gushing leg while his right groped for his Combat Application Tourniquet, conveniently rigged, per training, for single handed application. 
 

 
As the Russian forces decimated KPT Antonyuk’s company, the first two BMP-2s to die had been 1st Platoon vehicles.  Now the sole surviving vehicle hunkered down in the gully and watched fate bearing down on him.  The commander could not quite spot the enemy vehicles, but he could see their antennas moving towards him as he peered over the lip of the gully embankment that shielded his track.  He looked behind him, and was gratified to see his squad of infantrymen moving up into the trees to his rear.  The LT was dismounted and ordered to keep his men in and around the village of Starov.  Obviously he had decided to interpret the village borders somewhat loosely.  Perhaps they could still manage to hit a few of the Russian dogs as they came hunting for him.
 

 

On the north side of the hill, the remnants of 3rd Platoon were still being ground down by the advancing Russian BMP-3s and infantry.  The Platoon leader came staggering back through the forest and collapsed by a tree, falling next to the last two surviving dismounted infantrymen from his small command, both bleeding from multiple shrapnel wounds to their faces and upper torsos. 
“Sir, are you okay?”  one asked.  The Lieutenant’s haggard face told the story as he just stared at the man in obvious shock.  In that instant, another burst of lethal 30mm cannon fire struck, directed by the thermal sights on an unseen enemy vehicle, and the officer fell forward on his face and was still.  The two infantrymen cried out in panic, then both began crawling away from the source of the fire, one whimpering in fear and the other snarling in impotent rage.
 

 
Note:  BMP in background is destroyed Ukrainian 3d Platoon vehicle.  
 
 
In Krichek, KPT Kovtun knew that the Russians were up to something.  The artillery  continued to hammer down, but there was simply not enough fire or probing coming from the far side of the river, especially given the destruction of one of an enemy BMP over there by his ATGM team several minutes ago.  Someone or something should have been hunting, searching, trying to pin down the missile team or flush out its comrades.  He called the BMP2 section which had moved up and taken position along the row of houses on the west, facing the river. 
“Borsuk 11, have you seen anything?  Any activity from the far side?”
“Nothing Viktor, hang on, I’ll move up and take a quick look.”
“Borsuk 11, this is Vovk, Hang on 11, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Trust me Viktor – we are good on this.”
An instant later a Kovtun heard the unmistakable hammering of outgoing 30mm fire, over the shriek of another incoming artillery shell.  As his ears were still ringing from the tremendous detonation, he gradually heard the voice calling again on his radio.
“Vovk, this is Borsuk 21…  Vovk this is Borsuk 21…”  with a heavy heart, already knowing Kovtun took a deep breath and replied.
“Go ahead 21.” 
“11 is destroyed.  We never saw what did it.  His track is burning.  No one got out.” 
“21 this is Vovk, do me a favor and don’t DIE in the next five minutes.  Keep scanning but keep YOUR heads down.  We need your track, your cannon, and your missiles!  Stay under cover and respect the enemy’s abilities.  Vovk out.”  He passed the handset back to his RTO, making a deliberate effort not to throw it against the wall, and carefully peeling his white-clenched fingers from the black plastic.  An instant later, he took it back and spoke again.
“Brytva 22, this is Vovk.  Move to checkpoint 2 and observe.”
“This is Brytva 22, understood.  Moving.  I have permission to shoot?”
Podpulkovnyk Tymoshenko stepped into the room.
“You are committing the Tunguska?”
“Brytva 22, destroy anything you see.  Out”  Kovtun gave his Air Defense Commander a hard look. 
“Yes Sir.  It is needed.  We have lost too many combat vehicles, and now 11 has stupidly gotten himself and his crew obliterated.  I need a check on the south, and it must be fast, and lethal if anything is there.  Brytva 21 on the other side has done quite well, although he said he saw nothing from his new position.”
“Absolutely.  Good, I approve.  I trust you Viktor.  Keep the fight going.  Levchenko will get here with the Americans.” 
 
http://youtu.be/cKvN6JINyaw
 
Outside, Major Harris drew the same conclusion from both the sounds of cooking off ammo from the recently destroyed BMP up the street, as well as the radio traffic which he and Beach were monitoring.  He too drew out his handset:
“Guiness, this is five, over.”  As a small team, the SFAT had adopted informal call signs.  SPC O’Brian was well known for his heritage, and his favorite beverage.
“Five this is Guiness.”
“Need you to get over to TRP 2 like we discussed.  Seen anything? Figure you can make it?”
“Roger.  We can make it.  The green boyos over here saw a couple dismounts earlier, but they laid into them with their AGS and we haven’t seen any movement since.  I think our move is still masked.  Same mission?”
“Roger, just like we rehearsed, over.”
“Guiness moving.  We’ll be back in a bit with notches on our CLU.  Out.”
One hundred meters away, the SPC O’Brian picked up the Javelin launcher, tapped PVT Metcalf on the shoulder, and headed quickly down towards the river bridge, carefully skirting the anti-tank mines laid on either side of the road.
 

 
At the Ukepor Power Plant, LT Lysenko grinned as he spoke into his mike. 
“Yes, that is in there.  Fire for effect.”
The infantry in the field had dropped from view, discouraged by a few bursts from his squad in the entry building, and the mortar spotting rounds had bracketed the position where he had last seen the Russian truck and troops.  He hoped the mortar boys would fire fast so he could shift them closer into the field.  He doubted his few men could hold off a platoon of determined Russians. 
 
Starshiy Kostenko knew he was a dead man.  The 2nd Platoon private was on the ground, crawling past the body of one of his comrades, trying to follow his section leader back down the hill to the west, away from the murderous fire from inside the trees.  It was like a horrible story to tell little children.  From dark shadows beyond sight inside the trees, the forest had suddenly belched fire and flame, and all around him men had fallen.  His own thighs and cheek burned with shrapnel, and he felt the warm sticky wetness of his own blood on his pant legs as he crawled.  Suddenly, right behind him, he heard a crashing roaring clatter of sound.  He turned his head and saw the Russian beast, a BMP-3, a mere stones throw behind him.  He swung his rocket launcher around, and thought to himself how sad his mother would be…
 

P.S.  Please do keep voting up the posts. If I cannot defeat Bil on the battlefield, perhaps I can amass more 'forum reputation points' than him!  Ha!

I remember a mission im CMSF that had some Syrian SF ambushing a platoon of canadian dismounted infantry, or it might have been the other way around. Also another campaign that was about the US mentoring Afghan forces that had battles at maximum contained a company of troops. That was so sick. Ill be making missions, but I dont know what of yet. But I will be definately making some small unit RF Recon missions.