pnzrldr

Mayhem
 
http://youtu.be/vTUkgFPs3Zo
 
B company, the mech-heavy team in the north rolls over the rise and is suddenly in direct contact with BMP-3s to their east and southeast.  Some Bradleys stop, drop ramps and dismount their squads as a hedge against losing both assets to sudden fire, and to get the Javelins into the fight if necessary.  The tanks make short work of a pair of Krizentemas to the northeast, then turn their sights on the BMP-3s trying desperately to back away in the field to the southeast.  Between the Bradley's multiple TOW-IIBs and the tank fire, the Russian vehicles are overwhelmed.  We are on our way to establishing unchallenged fire superiority across the north side of Hill 347.  
 
More on the story soon...  

Gents, still discussing the relative merits of TOW-IIB vs. Kontakt or R5 roof mounted ERA on the beta boards.  My take is:  TOW-IIB uses EFPs which should not cause the ERA to function in most circumstances, and therefore it is only adding a couple dozen mm's to the RHA equivalent on the roof - which John Kettler's vid clearly shows the TOW-IIB overmatches.  Concur that Jav works even better.  It has a... significant dive angle that really helps out, but its baseline penetration and tandem function mean it should work great.  I also believe that both of these missiles likely overmatch ARENA APS, for similar reasons.  The ARENA pops up an explosive cartridge from a band around the vehicle turret, and then radar cue tracking both the cartridge and the projectile cues it to detonate downwards so that its cone-shaped frag pattern intercepts the projectile, causing predetonation.  For the record, this method of intercept can leave substantial 'residual' penetration, meaning ARENA is unsuitable for non-heavily armored targets and flank/rear successful intercepts might still challenge the vehicle's base armor.  However, if you think of the protection offered by this system, it should essentially look like a set of conical mountains, or pointy teeth arrayed around the vehicle.  Obviously, a projectile that attacks from above the cartridges apogee would defeat it (like Jav).  Further, one coming in a couple meters up on a flat trajectory stands a fairly good chance of making it 'between the teeth' or in between optimum projectile coverage.  Small chance the a missile might be disrupted by the cartridges' blast effect alone, but I believe TOW-IIB would frequently if not routinely defeat this system.  This is an educated guess on my part, and not based on any hard or (God help me) classified data from the office.  Take it or leave it.  
 
Going to be another night on finishing my post.  Other demands competing for my attention tonight.  May post another video, without text, but may not.  More to follow.  

Mayhem
 
http://youtu.be/vTUkgFPs3Zo
 
B company, the mech-heavy team in the north rolls over the rise and is suddenly in direct contact with BMP-3s to their east and southeast.  Some Bradleys stop, drop ramps and dismount their squads as a hedge against losing both assets to sudden fire, and to get the Javelins into the fight if necessary.  The tanks make short work of a pair of Krizentemas to the northeast, then turn their sights on the BMP-3s trying desperately to back away in the field to the southeast.  Between the Bradley's multiple TOW-IIBs and the tank fire, the Russian vehicles are overwhelmed.  We are on our way to establishing unchallenged fire superiority across the north side of Hill 347.  
 
More on the story soon...  

1LT Glenn Upham from Rockingham, NC, otherwise known as “Outlaw 16,” trembled with excitement as he gazed down from the side of a bare hill past waving fields of wheat and barley to the distant rooftops of Krichek a mile and a half or so to his east. A veteran of the closing days of US involvement in Afghanistan, he new he was exposed, and should try to slither down the slope to his idling Bradley, but he needed to see and understand what lay to his front, so he accepted the risk a little longer. Upham had labored his whole military career to overcome the accident of his name – how was he at fault for the fact that the mousy clerk typist from “Saving Private Ryan” was also named Upham? Well, CPL Upham had survived to the end of that fight, and Glenn firmly intended to survive this one. BCT HQ had clearly shown the Russian mech battalion moving into sector the day prior. The Brigade S-2 still thought he had firm grids on several vehicles. Further, the reports from the Security Force Assistance Team (SFAT) that had hung on with the Home Guard force in Krichek confirmed the strength of the force to their front. Upham knew it was his PLT’s job to ferret out their specific locations and survive the effort, to pave the way for the other battalion elements that followed him. He could even now see his PLT SGT, SFC Bagby, working his HMMWV scout section forward to get better observation. His main concern was what to do if they found anything. Though he had solid comms to BN, the Battle CPT had told him that they would not have priority of fires for another quarter hour or so. He had called up SGT Lerner with the Ukrainian Battalion to his right and coordinated for mortar support, but had no real confidence in the speed, accuracy or ammunition supply of their allies, especially if both units were in contact simultaneously. Lerner had assured him that their friends had both ammo and competence, but admitted they were not too speedy. Upham spoke in a low voice, checked the text message in his tablet for accuracy, and hit ‘send’ requesting an update on A CO’s ETA, and then gathered up his binos to slip back down to his track.



In Krichek, Major Nathan Harris cursed as he hit another rock. He and his driver were digging a couple of quick foxholes, as Harris would not let the young PFC do both himself. Despite the fact that they were right next to a stone building, Harris routinely insisted on burrowing into the soil for cover. PFC Beach had silently bitched, whined and cussed him – communicating without vocalizing a word – every time they did, right up until the first time they were shelled by Russian 122mm Howitzers. Since then Beach had taken to simply asking Harris if he wanted the HMMWV’s shovel or pick first every time they stopped. Beach was also eager to scrounge up something to replace the three heavy railroad ties he had used for overhead cover and had been forced to abandon at their last hasty departure from Khirovorad ten days prior. Harris stopped for a moment and swigged some bottled water. PdPK Tymoshenko was a solid Soldier, for an air defender, and Harris was impressed that he had stayed with his remaining troops until further evacuation of the town became impossible. But their disposition in Krichek worried him. They had seen signs of the Russians’ advance, and Harris had followed along on his BFT2 and shared the scene with Tymo, laying out the Russian recon CO’s general frontline trace as they reconnoitered around the town, and now he looked at the solid red blobs that represented much more significant Russian Armor and Mech forces. Though they had some good support weapons and a fair amount of ammo, Harris feared they could not survive a determined assault. Their meager supply of mines was barely enough to provide harassing defense on a few intersections, and aside from some hastily strung wire they had no other fortifications. Harris helped Tymo plan for some deception with the wire, hoping to force the Russians to deploy and treat each obstacle as (doctrinally) overwatched by fire. The two of them had withdrawn their remaining forces to the corner of town nearest the bridge, their only potential means of escape, and had barricaded up the Town Hall as a mini fortress. ATGMs were sighted for short, quick shots and their ADA weapons had abandoned their primary role and were sighted now to provide quick, lethal automatic fires. After much debate, Tymo had pulled all but two of his five squads of infantry into the town and away from the critical power station and grain storage sites. They simply didn’t have enough men or support weapons to squander them all over the place, and Harris knew they would find ample challenge defending the town. He pulled up his BFT2 message screen to see if there was any update on 3-69 Armor – “Speed & Power” movement forward.

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!

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…
 

“Damn, this fricking jamming! – Outlaw 16, this is Power 6, over…”  LTC Shawn Falkner swore again in frustration over the whine of the M1A2SEPv3’s hydraulics, as he tried to reach his scout platoon leader on the Battalion Command Net.  The tank was sweeping forward, rolling smoothly over the broken terrain, its turbine engine whining and the rubber-shod steel tracks clattering on the occasional stone. 
“Three, this is Six, I’ve got nothing.  I can see the smoke plumes just like you can.  I assume they are in trouble, but unless the whole section was wiped out we should be able to reach somebody!”
MAJ Abrams in the Bradley to Falkner’s left responded tersely. 
“Roger.  I’ve got a smoke column to my front.  ****, it’s a HMMWV…”
Falkner keyed his mike: “Staff Victors, break for cover!” warning the lighter HMMWVs accompanying his command group to seek safety.
“Identify Tank!” his gunner suddenly screamed, followed an instant later by the loader: “Up!” indicating he had armed the 120mm cannon and was clear of the path of the recoil. 
“Jesus, Fire!”  the Colonel responded, and the smoothbore cannon roared, an instant before the speeding M1 dropped down a small rise.  Falkner just had a glimpse of the T-90 spitted on the sabot tracer, then a bright flash and suddenly spotted target dropped out of sight. 
“Infantry left,” the loader sang out, and Falkner grabbed the joystick for the roof mounted CROWs .50 cal, arming it, swinging it left and laying down a  stuttering lethal fire on the Russian mechanized troops.  The stabilized CROWs was deadly accurate at this short range.  As the Battalion Commander, he had more important things to do, but with communications so limited he had only managed a brief radio call with his company commanders 10 minutes earlier.  Suddenly a crystal clear call came over his headset, “Power Six, Blackknight Six, contact BMPs front, out!” 
Hot damn, at least I can hear CPT Farmer, he thought.  He’s in contact too.  Like an echo, the gunner sang out, “Contact, BMP, front!”
“Gunner, AMP, PC, point,” Falker ordered, directing a new ammunition.  It took a moment as the loader switched out the sabot he had automatically slammed into the breach after the first tank.  “Up!”
“Fire.”
“On the way!” 
A tremendous concussion rocked the tank the instant they fired.  Falkner thought for an instant they had been hit.  Normally, the 120mm cannon’s sound is greatly muffled inside the turret by the loud environment itself, along with the sheer  mass of the tank.  The ‘Cha-changk!’ of the breech cycling and dropping the spent aft-cap from the frangible shell casing to the turret floor is actually louder than the sound of the shot.  But not this time. 
“Crap! That thing frickin’ predetonated!  What…”
“Tree!” the gunner said. 
“I think we fragged the FSO!”  Falkner looked in horror at the up-armored HMMWV which had been leading their little gaggle.  He saw one of the armored windows was gone – blown inwards by the shock of the detonating round. 
“Up!”  the loader’s cry jerked him back to the fight, as the young PFC slammed another AMP into the cannon, and shoved himself into the corner of the turret, away from the heavy breech’s recoil. 
“Re-lase, to make sure, and check the GAS.” Falkner said into his mike, directing the gunner to double check the range and to ensure a clear gun-target path through the gunner’s auxiliary sight.  The GAS is essentially a rifle-scope, a simple telescopic sight fixed to the side of the cannon.  Since the main sights on the Abrams are offset above and to the right of the cannon, the GAS is used if there is any doubt to ensure the cannon is clear of obstructions (like the lips of berms or walls) and to check for a clear gun-target line.
“I got him,” the gunner responded.
“Do it.”
“On the way.”
“Cha-changk!”
 
http://youtu.be/6UHECovVSkA
 
Not done with the turn yet, but figured I owed you all a taste.  Power 6 rolls onto the map this turn.  The Russians are caught too far forward and too exposed.  More to follow, as the Battalion breaks out into the open and loses the hindrance of the jamming that has plagued them during their approach to the battlefield.  Apologize for trimming the trees in the vid, but it was the only way to glimpse the action.  The thermals see right through them, but we don't have a 'thermal image' option in CM yet.        

“Damn, this fricking jamming! – Outlaw 16, this is Power 6, over…”  LTC Shawn Falkner swore again in frustration over the whine of the M1A2SEPv3’s hydraulics, as he tried to reach his scout platoon leader on the Battalion Command Net.  The tank was sweeping forward, rolling smoothly over the broken terrain, its turbine engine whining and the rubber-shod steel tracks clattering on the occasional stone. 
“Three, this is Six, I’ve got nothing.  I can see the smoke plumes just like you can.  I assume they are in trouble, but unless the whole section was wiped out we should be able to reach somebody!”
MAJ Abrams in the Bradley to Falkner’s left responded tersely. 
“Roger.  I’ve got a smoke column to my front.  ****, it’s a HMMWV…”
Falkner keyed his mike: “Staff Victors, break for cover!” warning the lighter HMMWVs accompanying his command group to seek safety.
“Identify Tank!” his gunner suddenly screamed, followed an instant later by the loader: “Up!” indicating he had armed the 120mm cannon and was clear of the path of the recoil. 
“Jesus, Fire!”  the Colonel responded, and the smoothbore cannon roared, an instant before the speeding M1 dropped down a small rise.  Falkner just had a glimpse of the T-90 spitted on the sabot tracer, then a bright flash and suddenly spotted target dropped out of sight. 
“Infantry left,” the loader sang out, and Falkner grabbed the joystick for the roof mounted CROWs .50 cal, arming it, swinging it left and laying down a  stuttering lethal fire on the Russian mechanized troops.  The stabilized CROWs was deadly accurate at this short range.  As the Battalion Commander, he had more important things to do, but with communications so limited he had only managed a brief radio call with his company commanders 10 minutes earlier.  Suddenly a crystal clear call came over his headset, “Power Six, Blackknight Six, contact BMPs front, out!” 
Hot damn, at least I can hear CPT Farmer, he thought.  He’s in contact too.  Like an echo, the gunner sang out, “Contact, BMP, front!”
“Gunner, AMP, PC, point,” Falker ordered, directing a new ammunition.  It took a moment as the loader switched out the sabot he had automatically slammed into the breach after the first tank.  “Up!”
“Fire.”
“On the way!” 
A tremendous concussion rocked the tank the instant they fired.  Falkner thought for an instant they had been hit.  Normally, the 120mm cannon’s sound is greatly muffled inside the turret by the loud environment itself, along with the sheer  mass of the tank.  The ‘Cha-changk!’ of the breech cycling and dropping the spent aft-cap from the frangible shell casing to the turret floor is actually louder than the sound of the shot.  But not this time. 
“Crap! That thing frickin’ predetonated!  What…”
“Tree!” the gunner said. 
“I think we fragged the FSO!”  Falkner looked in horror at the up-armored HMMWV which had been leading their little gaggle.  He saw one of the armored windows was gone – blown inwards by the shock of the detonating round. 
“Up!”  the loader’s cry jerked him back to the fight, as the young PFC slammed another AMP into the cannon, and shoved himself into the corner of the turret, away from the heavy breech’s recoil. 
“Re-lase, to make sure, and check the GAS.” Falkner said into his mike, directing the gunner to double check the range and to ensure a clear gun-target path through the gunner’s auxiliary sight.  The GAS is essentially a rifle-scope, a simple telescopic sight fixed to the side of the cannon.  Since the main sights on the Abrams are offset above and to the right of the cannon, the GAS is used if there is any doubt to ensure the cannon is clear of obstructions (like the lips of berms or walls) and to check for a clear gun-target line.
“I got him,” the gunner responded.
“Do it.”
“On the way.”
“Cha-changk!”
 
http://youtu.be/6UHECovVSkA
 
Not done with the turn yet, but figured I owed you all a taste.  Power 6 rolls onto the map this turn.  The Russians are caught too far forward and too exposed.  More to follow, as the Battalion breaks out into the open and loses the hindrance of the jamming that has plagued them during their approach to the battlefield.  Apologize for trimming the trees in the vid, but it was the only way to glimpse the action.  The thermals see right through them, but we don't have a 'thermal image' option in CM yet.        

“Damn, this fricking jamming! – Outlaw 16, this is Power 6, over…”  LTC Shawn Falkner swore again in frustration over the whine of the M1A2SEPv3’s hydraulics, as he tried to reach his scout platoon leader on the Battalion Command Net.  The tank was sweeping forward, rolling smoothly over the broken terrain, its turbine engine whining and the rubber-shod steel tracks clattering on the occasional stone. 
“Three, this is Six, I’ve got nothing.  I can see the smoke plumes just like you can.  I assume they are in trouble, but unless the whole section was wiped out we should be able to reach somebody!”
MAJ Abrams in the Bradley to Falkner’s left responded tersely. 
“Roger.  I’ve got a smoke column to my front.  ****, it’s a HMMWV…”
Falkner keyed his mike: “Staff Victors, break for cover!” warning the lighter HMMWVs accompanying his command group to seek safety.
“Identify Tank!” his gunner suddenly screamed, followed an instant later by the loader: “Up!” indicating he had armed the 120mm cannon and was clear of the path of the recoil. 
“Jesus, Fire!”  the Colonel responded, and the smoothbore cannon roared, an instant before the speeding M1 dropped down a small rise.  Falkner just had a glimpse of the T-90 spitted on the sabot tracer, then a bright flash and suddenly spotted target dropped out of sight. 
“Infantry left,” the loader sang out, and Falkner grabbed the joystick for the roof mounted CROWs .50 cal, arming it, swinging it left and laying down a  stuttering lethal fire on the Russian mechanized troops.  The stabilized CROWs was deadly accurate at this short range.  As the Battalion Commander, he had more important things to do, but with communications so limited he had only managed a brief radio call with his company commanders 10 minutes earlier.  Suddenly a crystal clear call came over his headset, “Power Six, Blackknight Six, contact BMPs front, out!” 
Hot damn, at least I can hear CPT Farmer, he thought.  He’s in contact too.  Like an echo, the gunner sang out, “Contact, BMP, front!”
“Gunner, AMP, PC, point,” Falker ordered, directing a new ammunition.  It took a moment as the loader switched out the sabot he had automatically slammed into the breach after the first tank.  “Up!”
“Fire.”
“On the way!” 
A tremendous concussion rocked the tank the instant they fired.  Falkner thought for an instant they had been hit.  Normally, the 120mm cannon’s sound is greatly muffled inside the turret by the loud environment itself, along with the sheer  mass of the tank.  The ‘Cha-changk!’ of the breech cycling and dropping the spent aft-cap from the frangible shell casing to the turret floor is actually louder than the sound of the shot.  But not this time. 
“Crap! That thing frickin’ predetonated!  What…”
“Tree!” the gunner said. 
“I think we fragged the FSO!”  Falkner looked in horror at the up-armored HMMWV which had been leading their little gaggle.  He saw one of the armored windows was gone – blown inwards by the shock of the detonating round. 
“Up!”  the loader’s cry jerked him back to the fight, as the young PFC slammed another AMP into the cannon, and shoved himself into the corner of the turret, away from the heavy breech’s recoil. 
“Re-lase, to make sure, and check the GAS.” Falkner said into his mike, directing the gunner to double check the range and to ensure a clear gun-target path through the gunner’s auxiliary sight.  The GAS is essentially a rifle-scope, a simple telescopic sight fixed to the side of the cannon.  Since the main sights on the Abrams are offset above and to the right of the cannon, the GAS is used if there is any doubt to ensure the cannon is clear of obstructions (like the lips of berms or walls) and to check for a clear gun-target line.
“I got him,” the gunner responded.
“Do it.”
“On the way.”
“Cha-changk!”
 
http://youtu.be/6UHECovVSkA
 
Not done with the turn yet, but figured I owed you all a taste.  Power 6 rolls onto the map this turn.  The Russians are caught too far forward and too exposed.  More to follow, as the Battalion breaks out into the open and loses the hindrance of the jamming that has plagued them during their approach to the battlefield.  Apologize for trimming the trees in the vid, but it was the only way to glimpse the action.  The thermals see right through them, but we don't have a 'thermal image' option in CM yet.        

“Damn, this fricking jamming! – Outlaw 16, this is Power 6, over…”  LTC Shawn Falkner swore again in frustration over the whine of the M1A2SEPv3’s hydraulics, as he tried to reach his scout platoon leader on the Battalion Command Net.  The tank was sweeping forward, rolling smoothly over the broken terrain, its turbine engine whining and the rubber-shod steel tracks clattering on the occasional stone. 
“Three, this is Six, I’ve got nothing.  I can see the smoke plumes just like you can.  I assume they are in trouble, but unless the whole section was wiped out we should be able to reach somebody!”
MAJ Abrams in the Bradley to Falkner’s left responded tersely. 
“Roger.  I’ve got a smoke column to my front.  ****, it’s a HMMWV…”
Falkner keyed his mike: “Staff Victors, break for cover!” warning the lighter HMMWVs accompanying his command group to seek safety.
“Identify Tank!” his gunner suddenly screamed, followed an instant later by the loader: “Up!” indicating he had armed the 120mm cannon and was clear of the path of the recoil. 
“Jesus, Fire!”  the Colonel responded, and the smoothbore cannon roared, an instant before the speeding M1 dropped down a small rise.  Falkner just had a glimpse of the T-90 spitted on the sabot tracer, then a bright flash and suddenly spotted target dropped out of sight. 
“Infantry left,” the loader sang out, and Falkner grabbed the joystick for the roof mounted CROWs .50 cal, arming it, swinging it left and laying down a  stuttering lethal fire on the Russian mechanized troops.  The stabilized CROWs was deadly accurate at this short range.  As the Battalion Commander, he had more important things to do, but with communications so limited he had only managed a brief radio call with his company commanders 10 minutes earlier.  Suddenly a crystal clear call came over his headset, “Power Six, Blackknight Six, contact BMPs front, out!” 
Hot damn, at least I can hear CPT Farmer, he thought.  He’s in contact too.  Like an echo, the gunner sang out, “Contact, BMP, front!”
“Gunner, AMP, PC, point,” Falker ordered, directing a new ammunition.  It took a moment as the loader switched out the sabot he had automatically slammed into the breach after the first tank.  “Up!”
“Fire.”
“On the way!” 
A tremendous concussion rocked the tank the instant they fired.  Falkner thought for an instant they had been hit.  Normally, the 120mm cannon’s sound is greatly muffled inside the turret by the loud environment itself, along with the sheer  mass of the tank.  The ‘Cha-changk!’ of the breech cycling and dropping the spent aft-cap from the frangible shell casing to the turret floor is actually louder than the sound of the shot.  But not this time. 
“Crap! That thing frickin’ predetonated!  What…”
“Tree!” the gunner said. 
“I think we fragged the FSO!”  Falkner looked in horror at the up-armored HMMWV which had been leading their little gaggle.  He saw one of the armored windows was gone – blown inwards by the shock of the detonating round. 
“Up!”  the loader’s cry jerked him back to the fight, as the young PFC slammed another AMP into the cannon, and shoved himself into the corner of the turret, away from the heavy breech’s recoil. 
“Re-lase, to make sure, and check the GAS.” Falkner said into his mike, directing the gunner to double check the range and to ensure a clear gun-target path through the gunner’s auxiliary sight.  The GAS is essentially a rifle-scope, a simple telescopic sight fixed to the side of the cannon.  Since the main sights on the Abrams are offset above and to the right of the cannon, the GAS is used if there is any doubt to ensure the cannon is clear of obstructions (like the lips of berms or walls) and to check for a clear gun-target line.
“I got him,” the gunner responded.
“Do it.”
“On the way.”
“Cha-changk!”
 
http://youtu.be/6UHECovVSkA
 
Not done with the turn yet, but figured I owed you all a taste.  Power 6 rolls onto the map this turn.  The Russians are caught too far forward and too exposed.  More to follow, as the Battalion breaks out into the open and loses the hindrance of the jamming that has plagued them during their approach to the battlefield.  Apologize for trimming the trees in the vid, but it was the only way to glimpse the action.  The thermals see right through them, but we don't have a 'thermal image' option in CM yet.        

With a roar, the twin 30mm cannon spit huge bursts of lethal high-explosive shells up the street, slashing after the running infantry.  The enemy had ducked behind a hedge at the last instant, but the gunner walked the rounds along the area he thought they had gone to.  It looked as though they had run into a small shack.  Well, he would just…..
“Brytva elements, this is Orel Base, air alert, sector 7A, bearing 258 closing.  Illuminate!  Weapons free!” 
The commander instantly terminated the ground engagement, responding by training to the anti-air drill.  The search radar went from standby to narrow-beam search in less than a second, and an instant later the radar operator sang out that he had a target.  The gunner announced a lock and the whole crew heard the warble of the lock signal. The commander ordered “launch,” and the missile was away, all within mere seconds of the alert.  The 9M311 missile sped up and away, guided towards the target by commands from the launcher, which had to sustain the radar lock throughout the engagement.  This it did, and the unknown Russian aircraft jinked, but the missile’s laser-armed proximity fuze functioned.  The crew knew their missile had detonated, but none were certain they had scored a kill as they had all seen the smoke trail from their sister Strela launch from within Krichek at nearly the same instant.  But all saw the splash as the enemy aircraft hit the ground.
“Now where,” thought the commander of Brytva 21, “did those pesky infantrymen go?”
 
http://youtu.be/eFdA78fMz3A
 
As KPT Kovtun’s command BTR moves by ferrying an infantry squad to the north side of town, Brytva 22M, the surviving Strela launcher in the middle of town engages unknown Russian aircraft with two missile volley.   Note the splash of the downed aircraft beyond Starov village at the end of the clip.
 
In Krichek, Starshiy Bondarenko was exhausted.  He and his team had run up the street, going building to building, lugging the heavy Corsar ATGM all the way.  While a fairly light weapon given its capability, light is a relative term and they had run fast.  KPT Kovtun had directed them to reposition to face the threat of a Russian BMP coming across the river – they were amphibious, and could swim from a suitable bank, making the crossing in moments.  Bondarenko and the team climbed up to the second floor and began setting up, but instantly Sasha cried out. 
“Infantry coming!” punctuated by several short bursts as he cut loose with his AK-74. 
“Sasha, stop!  You’ll give away our position!  We have to wait for the BMP!”  too late he warned, as the very BMP itself, slid up from behind a fold in the ground actually in front of the infantry Sasha had engaged.  A large Russian shell, a stray perhaps, from the ongoing bombardment, slammed into the ground directly in front of the vehicle.  As the smoke cleared, the BMP gunner immediately pressed his triggers, slamming 30mm shells into the building where they sheltered.  Sasha fell with a cry, and an instant later Bondarenko mashed the firing stud on the Corsar and felt the tremendous whoosh and slap as the missile screamed from the launcher.  The range was just beyond arming range for the missile, and it detonated hard on the BMP, instantly setting off secondary explosions that consumed the Russian track.  Bondarenko knelt and cradled his arm as he realized it was torn by shrapnel.  But he realized it wasn’t bad, and quickly raised his head for another look at the blazing BMP.  In that instant the BMP’s platoon mate on the far bank loosed a quick burst that caught the young gunner square, shrapnel tearing into his chest, neck and shoulder.  Only his body armor saved him from instant death, and his life would now hang on the skills of the medics in town and the speed of their rescue by US forces. 
 
http://youtu.be/yc9RMo87KSQ

SPC O’Brian was good and ready. They had to reposition twice, but now he saw it clearly on the distant southern hill.  Through the thermal on his Command Launch Unit, he distinctly saw the outline of a T-90, the latest Russian tank.  He was pretty sure he saw others on the ridge behind hit, but could not see enough of them to be certain, but the vehicle closest was hull up and unmistakable. 
“Alright, Metcalf, we good?”
“Bit test was good.  We’re armed and ready,” he responded.
“Well then, here goes nothing.  Firing!”
With a dull pop, the missile left the tube, then seeming to sag in the air as its rocket motor ignited, it nosed up and flew up and away. 
“C’mon, we’re gone.”  Even before the missile had closed half the distance to the distant tank, O’Brian and Metcalf were sprinting from the launch point.  They ran a good 75 meters, then flung themselves down, snapping the empty canister from the CLU, and snapping a new heavy one in its place.  A distant ‘Boom!’ announced the arrival of their missile, but neither knew for sure how they had done.  They knew the Javelin was deadly, and trusted that they had spiked their target.  The carefully began to creep up to set up another shot.
 
http://youtu.be/YNN-FiTmyqE
 
SPC O’Brian and PVT Metcalf engage a T-90 of the Southern MRC.  They really wanted to engage the Tunguska, but could not get line of sight.  Expect this engagement, coming immediately prior to arrival of Speed and Power Main Body, should throw a nice wrench in the Russian plan.  End of video (note, I learned how to ‘pause’ though I still don’t have a video editor <sigh!>) is Brytva 21 showing what to do when your infantry target runs into a shack.  Will be curious after the match to see if this engagement caused any casualties…  or if there were any survivors!  A few end-of-turn snaps to wrap up.
 

 

 

 
At this point I am officially caught up, and am sending the main-body turn back to Bil in about an hour.  Thanks for bearing with me.

LT Lysenko watched with guarded caution.  Russian mortar fire continued to fall on the powerplant, making life difficult.  Continuous shelling, even if you are under cover, is unnerving.  Lysenko could see Russian armor traversing the field in front of the plant.  He had laid out careful firing lines for the squad at the gatehouse, but had no confidence they would follow his instructions.  They seemed eager, but also like they had not paid sufficient attention during their annual reserve training.  The LT believed they were fairly likely to point the RPG in the correct direction, and would probably not place the exhaust against their shoulder like a rifle – but he was not certain!  He could not see the team from his vantage point, but he was watching when they did choose to engage.  The T-90 had stopped dead in front of them in the field.  Lysenko estimated the range at about 150m, maybe a hair further.  He had laid out firing marks for them at this range, and the rocket actually did seem to be on target – until the tank’s APS system shot it down of course.  No one had apparently discussed this feature with the team themselves, and Lysenko could see them through a window apparently streaming towards the ground floor in panic.  He sighed, but noted that the 120mm mortars seemed to have the range for the truck and likely ATGM site he had called them on. 
 
http://youtu.be/qsOo9SToCwI
 
Kapitan Kovtun was working quickly, outlining a new plan to one of his squad leaders, when MAJ Harris slipped in the door of the Town Hall. 
“So, brief your men and the BTR crew and then get up to the North.  They have spotted a Russian truck on top of the hill, and we think perhaps it is responsible for all of this damned artillery!”  The KPT turned and saw the American Major.
“Da, Mayor?”  He lifted an eyebrow, respectful but obviously not in the mood for trivial small talk.
“Nice work getting the word out on our Jav team, Viktor.  I’m sending Sergeant Doty and his truck up to the north.  We think a Russian BMP just crossed the river, and can’t afford to get pinned over there.”
“Da, there is one of devils on our bank.  I have sent our Corsar team to deal with it.  Hopefully they manage.  If not, we have other defenses.  Is there any word on your countrymen?  Any support available?”
“Nothing so far.  Jamming is doing us in.  It should not be much longer, but I fear it may be too late for 3rd Company.” 
“Perhaps, yes.  So…  we fight until they decide to join us, no?”
Harris grinned.
“Yes, indeed we do.”
“Good, let us go see positions, you and I?”
“Lead the way!”
 

“There, you see?  I told you there was supposed to be a truck over there!”  Serzhant Levitsky told his gunner. 
“We just needed to get a better angle.  Gunner, ground burst, five-zero rounds, truck!”
Seconds later, the Russian Tiger recon truck a burning wreck, Brytva 22 turned and headed north back towards Krichek, its swift patrol of the southern fields complete.
 

 

 

 

 
Next to the bridge to Krichek, their comrade, the commander of Brytva 21 suddenly heard a loud, “tchnk!” followed moments later by several more, “tchnk, tchnk, tzzzeeee!”  He looked out of his commander’s cupola periscope in disbelief.  Right up the road perhaps 150m away crouched a Russian rifleman – and he was shooting at the armored vehicle with his assault rifle! 
Surely, thought the commander, your squad leader is smarter than that! 
“Gunner, traverse left….”
 

 

SPC O’Brian was good and ready. They had to reposition twice, but now he saw it clearly on the distant southern hill.  Through the thermal on his Command Launch Unit, he distinctly saw the outline of a T-90, the latest Russian tank.  He was pretty sure he saw others on the ridge behind hit, but could not see enough of them to be certain, but the vehicle closest was hull up and unmistakable. 
“Alright, Metcalf, we good?”
“Bit test was good.  We’re armed and ready,” he responded.
“Well then, here goes nothing.  Firing!”
With a dull pop, the missile left the tube, then seeming to sag in the air as its rocket motor ignited, it nosed up and flew up and away. 
“C’mon, we’re gone.”  Even before the missile had closed half the distance to the distant tank, O’Brian and Metcalf were sprinting from the launch point.  They ran a good 75 meters, then flung themselves down, snapping the empty canister from the CLU, and snapping a new heavy one in its place.  A distant ‘Boom!’ announced the arrival of their missile, but neither knew for sure how they had done.  They knew the Javelin was deadly, and trusted that they had spiked their target.  The carefully began to creep up to set up another shot.
 
http://youtu.be/YNN-FiTmyqE
 
SPC O’Brian and PVT Metcalf engage a T-90 of the Southern MRC.  They really wanted to engage the Tunguska, but could not get line of sight.  Expect this engagement, coming immediately prior to arrival of Speed and Power Main Body, should throw a nice wrench in the Russian plan.  End of video (note, I learned how to ‘pause’ though I still don’t have a video editor <sigh!>) is Brytva 21 showing what to do when your infantry target runs into a shack.  Will be curious after the match to see if this engagement caused any casualties…  or if there were any survivors!  A few end-of-turn snaps to wrap up.
 

 

 

 
At this point I am officially caught up, and am sending the main-body turn back to Bil in about an hour.  Thanks for bearing with me.

With a roar, the twin 30mm cannon spit huge bursts of lethal high-explosive shells up the street, slashing after the running infantry.  The enemy had ducked behind a hedge at the last instant, but the gunner walked the rounds along the area he thought they had gone to.  It looked as though they had run into a small shack.  Well, he would just…..
“Brytva elements, this is Orel Base, air alert, sector 7A, bearing 258 closing.  Illuminate!  Weapons free!” 
The commander instantly terminated the ground engagement, responding by training to the anti-air drill.  The search radar went from standby to narrow-beam search in less than a second, and an instant later the radar operator sang out that he had a target.  The gunner announced a lock and the whole crew heard the warble of the lock signal. The commander ordered “launch,” and the missile was away, all within mere seconds of the alert.  The 9M311 missile sped up and away, guided towards the target by commands from the launcher, which had to sustain the radar lock throughout the engagement.  This it did, and the unknown Russian aircraft jinked, but the missile’s laser-armed proximity fuze functioned.  The crew knew their missile had detonated, but none were certain they had scored a kill as they had all seen the smoke trail from their sister Strela launch from within Krichek at nearly the same instant.  But all saw the splash as the enemy aircraft hit the ground.
“Now where,” thought the commander of Brytva 21, “did those pesky infantrymen go?”
 
http://youtu.be/eFdA78fMz3A
 
As KPT Kovtun’s command BTR moves by ferrying an infantry squad to the north side of town, Brytva 22M, the surviving Strela launcher in the middle of town engages unknown Russian aircraft with two missile volley.   Note the splash of the downed aircraft beyond Starov village at the end of the clip.
 
In Krichek, Starshiy Bondarenko was exhausted.  He and his team had run up the street, going building to building, lugging the heavy Corsar ATGM all the way.  While a fairly light weapon given its capability, light is a relative term and they had run fast.  KPT Kovtun had directed them to reposition to face the threat of a Russian BMP coming across the river – they were amphibious, and could swim from a suitable bank, making the crossing in moments.  Bondarenko and the team climbed up to the second floor and began setting up, but instantly Sasha cried out. 
“Infantry coming!” punctuated by several short bursts as he cut loose with his AK-74. 
“Sasha, stop!  You’ll give away our position!  We have to wait for the BMP!”  too late he warned, as the very BMP itself, slid up from behind a fold in the ground actually in front of the infantry Sasha had engaged.  A large Russian shell, a stray perhaps, from the ongoing bombardment, slammed into the ground directly in front of the vehicle.  As the smoke cleared, the BMP gunner immediately pressed his triggers, slamming 30mm shells into the building where they sheltered.  Sasha fell with a cry, and an instant later Bondarenko mashed the firing stud on the Corsar and felt the tremendous whoosh and slap as the missile screamed from the launcher.  The range was just beyond arming range for the missile, and it detonated hard on the BMP, instantly setting off secondary explosions that consumed the Russian track.  Bondarenko knelt and cradled his arm as he realized it was torn by shrapnel.  But he realized it wasn’t bad, and quickly raised his head for another look at the blazing BMP.  In that instant the BMP’s platoon mate on the far bank loosed a quick burst that caught the young gunner square, shrapnel tearing into his chest, neck and shoulder.  Only his body armor saved him from instant death, and his life would now hang on the skills of the medics in town and the speed of their rescue by US forces. 
 
http://youtu.be/yc9RMo87KSQ

SPC O’Brian was good and ready. They had to reposition twice, but now he saw it clearly on the distant southern hill.  Through the thermal on his Command Launch Unit, he distinctly saw the outline of a T-90, the latest Russian tank.  He was pretty sure he saw others on the ridge behind hit, but could not see enough of them to be certain, but the vehicle closest was hull up and unmistakable. 
“Alright, Metcalf, we good?”
“Bit test was good.  We’re armed and ready,” he responded.
“Well then, here goes nothing.  Firing!”
With a dull pop, the missile left the tube, then seeming to sag in the air as its rocket motor ignited, it nosed up and flew up and away. 
“C’mon, we’re gone.”  Even before the missile had closed half the distance to the distant tank, O’Brian and Metcalf were sprinting from the launch point.  They ran a good 75 meters, then flung themselves down, snapping the empty canister from the CLU, and snapping a new heavy one in its place.  A distant ‘Boom!’ announced the arrival of their missile, but neither knew for sure how they had done.  They knew the Javelin was deadly, and trusted that they had spiked their target.  The carefully began to creep up to set up another shot.
 
http://youtu.be/YNN-FiTmyqE
 
SPC O’Brian and PVT Metcalf engage a T-90 of the Southern MRC.  They really wanted to engage the Tunguska, but could not get line of sight.  Expect this engagement, coming immediately prior to arrival of Speed and Power Main Body, should throw a nice wrench in the Russian plan.  End of video (note, I learned how to ‘pause’ though I still don’t have a video editor <sigh!>) is Brytva 21 showing what to do when your infantry target runs into a shack.  Will be curious after the match to see if this engagement caused any casualties…  or if there were any survivors!  A few end-of-turn snaps to wrap up.
 

 

 

 
At this point I am officially caught up, and am sending the main-body turn back to Bil in about an hour.  Thanks for bearing with me.

SPC O’Brian was good and ready. They had to reposition twice, but now he saw it clearly on the distant southern hill.  Through the thermal on his Command Launch Unit, he distinctly saw the outline of a T-90, the latest Russian tank.  He was pretty sure he saw others on the ridge behind hit, but could not see enough of them to be certain, but the vehicle closest was hull up and unmistakable. 
“Alright, Metcalf, we good?”
“Bit test was good.  We’re armed and ready,” he responded.
“Well then, here goes nothing.  Firing!”
With a dull pop, the missile left the tube, then seeming to sag in the air as its rocket motor ignited, it nosed up and flew up and away. 
“C’mon, we’re gone.”  Even before the missile had closed half the distance to the distant tank, O’Brian and Metcalf were sprinting from the launch point.  They ran a good 75 meters, then flung themselves down, snapping the empty canister from the CLU, and snapping a new heavy one in its place.  A distant ‘Boom!’ announced the arrival of their missile, but neither knew for sure how they had done.  They knew the Javelin was deadly, and trusted that they had spiked their target.  The carefully began to creep up to set up another shot.
 
http://youtu.be/YNN-FiTmyqE
 
SPC O’Brian and PVT Metcalf engage a T-90 of the Southern MRC.  They really wanted to engage the Tunguska, but could not get line of sight.  Expect this engagement, coming immediately prior to arrival of Speed and Power Main Body, should throw a nice wrench in the Russian plan.  End of video (note, I learned how to ‘pause’ though I still don’t have a video editor <sigh!>) is Brytva 21 showing what to do when your infantry target runs into a shack.  Will be curious after the match to see if this engagement caused any casualties…  or if there were any survivors!  A few end-of-turn snaps to wrap up.
 

 

 

 
At this point I am officially caught up, and am sending the main-body turn back to Bil in about an hour.  Thanks for bearing with me.

SPC O’Brian was good and ready. They had to reposition twice, but now he saw it clearly on the distant southern hill.  Through the thermal on his Command Launch Unit, he distinctly saw the outline of a T-90, the latest Russian tank.  He was pretty sure he saw others on the ridge behind hit, but could not see enough of them to be certain, but the vehicle closest was hull up and unmistakable. 
“Alright, Metcalf, we good?”
“Bit test was good.  We’re armed and ready,” he responded.
“Well then, here goes nothing.  Firing!”
With a dull pop, the missile left the tube, then seeming to sag in the air as its rocket motor ignited, it nosed up and flew up and away. 
“C’mon, we’re gone.”  Even before the missile had closed half the distance to the distant tank, O’Brian and Metcalf were sprinting from the launch point.  They ran a good 75 meters, then flung themselves down, snapping the empty canister from the CLU, and snapping a new heavy one in its place.  A distant ‘Boom!’ announced the arrival of their missile, but neither knew for sure how they had done.  They knew the Javelin was deadly, and trusted that they had spiked their target.  The carefully began to creep up to set up another shot.
 
http://youtu.be/YNN-FiTmyqE
 
SPC O’Brian and PVT Metcalf engage a T-90 of the Southern MRC.  They really wanted to engage the Tunguska, but could not get line of sight.  Expect this engagement, coming immediately prior to arrival of Speed and Power Main Body, should throw a nice wrench in the Russian plan.  End of video (note, I learned how to ‘pause’ though I still don’t have a video editor <sigh!>) is Brytva 21 showing what to do when your infantry target runs into a shack.  Will be curious after the match to see if this engagement caused any casualties…  or if there were any survivors!  A few end-of-turn snaps to wrap up.
 

 

 

 
At this point I am officially caught up, and am sending the main-body turn back to Bil in about an hour.  Thanks for bearing with me.

With a roar, the twin 30mm cannon spit huge bursts of lethal high-explosive shells up the street, slashing after the running infantry.  The enemy had ducked behind a hedge at the last instant, but the gunner walked the rounds along the area he thought they had gone to.  It looked as though they had run into a small shack.  Well, he would just…..
“Brytva elements, this is Orel Base, air alert, sector 7A, bearing 258 closing.  Illuminate!  Weapons free!” 
The commander instantly terminated the ground engagement, responding by training to the anti-air drill.  The search radar went from standby to narrow-beam search in less than a second, and an instant later the radar operator sang out that he had a target.  The gunner announced a lock and the whole crew heard the warble of the lock signal. The commander ordered “launch,” and the missile was away, all within mere seconds of the alert.  The 9M311 missile sped up and away, guided towards the target by commands from the launcher, which had to sustain the radar lock throughout the engagement.  This it did, and the unknown Russian aircraft jinked, but the missile’s laser-armed proximity fuze functioned.  The crew knew their missile had detonated, but none were certain they had scored a kill as they had all seen the smoke trail from their sister Strela launch from within Krichek at nearly the same instant.  But all saw the splash as the enemy aircraft hit the ground.
“Now where,” thought the commander of Brytva 21, “did those pesky infantrymen go?”
 
http://youtu.be/eFdA78fMz3A
 
As KPT Kovtun’s command BTR moves by ferrying an infantry squad to the north side of town, Brytva 22M, the surviving Strela launcher in the middle of town engages unknown Russian aircraft with two missile volley.   Note the splash of the downed aircraft beyond Starov village at the end of the clip.
 
In Krichek, Starshiy Bondarenko was exhausted.  He and his team had run up the street, going building to building, lugging the heavy Corsar ATGM all the way.  While a fairly light weapon given its capability, light is a relative term and they had run fast.  KPT Kovtun had directed them to reposition to face the threat of a Russian BMP coming across the river – they were amphibious, and could swim from a suitable bank, making the crossing in moments.  Bondarenko and the team climbed up to the second floor and began setting up, but instantly Sasha cried out. 
“Infantry coming!” punctuated by several short bursts as he cut loose with his AK-74. 
“Sasha, stop!  You’ll give away our position!  We have to wait for the BMP!”  too late he warned, as the very BMP itself, slid up from behind a fold in the ground actually in front of the infantry Sasha had engaged.  A large Russian shell, a stray perhaps, from the ongoing bombardment, slammed into the ground directly in front of the vehicle.  As the smoke cleared, the BMP gunner immediately pressed his triggers, slamming 30mm shells into the building where they sheltered.  Sasha fell with a cry, and an instant later Bondarenko mashed the firing stud on the Corsar and felt the tremendous whoosh and slap as the missile screamed from the launcher.  The range was just beyond arming range for the missile, and it detonated hard on the BMP, instantly setting off secondary explosions that consumed the Russian track.  Bondarenko knelt and cradled his arm as he realized it was torn by shrapnel.  But he realized it wasn’t bad, and quickly raised his head for another look at the blazing BMP.  In that instant the BMP’s platoon mate on the far bank loosed a quick burst that caught the young gunner square, shrapnel tearing into his chest, neck and shoulder.  Only his body armor saved him from instant death, and his life would now hang on the skills of the medics in town and the speed of their rescue by US forces. 
 
http://youtu.be/yc9RMo87KSQ

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.  

For precision strikes, laser has the advantage of allowing for some target movement.  GPS has the advantage of not having to acquire the laser spot, and not providing target warning, counterattack or countermeasures to come into play.  Believe that for most laser engagements, you are really only designating the target for the last seconds of flight.  Also believe that in this environment of laser warning receivers, units would extend that as far as practical, and that both designation and ranging lasers would frequently be used in a 'lase offset' technique to try and avoid warning the target.  However, this would reduce the chance of PGM laser acquisition, which is never 100% and likely closer to 60/40 under battlefield conditions. 
 
John - you tell me in one instant that the radar is irrelevant, and then ask my opinion on the damage model for it?  ;-)  Horn - fragile.  Dish - not so much.  Rotating gear (attached to dish) fragile, hates vibration or misbalance.  Also, FWIW, believe the systems sensitivity to dish damage is very likely dependent upon what we are asking the radar to do.  Detect presence of target with some damage = no problem.  Provide precise range data to fire control computer with damaged dish = more problematic.  BL:  I am near-certain w/o asking that BFC is  modeling this thing as 'radar.'  The reverse of granular.  Remember, our game is primarily a ground conflict and the focus is on that.  

Have requested it (again) from the powers that be.  More critical than ever with advent of precision munitions in the modern game.  See previous posts reference to sacrificial offerings and large shipments of South African wine.  

For precision strikes, laser has the advantage of allowing for some target movement.  GPS has the advantage of not having to acquire the laser spot, and not providing target warning, counterattack or countermeasures to come into play.  Believe that for most laser engagements, you are really only designating the target for the last seconds of flight.  Also believe that in this environment of laser warning receivers, units would extend that as far as practical, and that both designation and ranging lasers would frequently be used in a 'lase offset' technique to try and avoid warning the target.  However, this would reduce the chance of PGM laser acquisition, which is never 100% and likely closer to 60/40 under battlefield conditions. 
 
John - you tell me in one instant that the radar is irrelevant, and then ask my opinion on the damage model for it?  ;-)  Horn - fragile.  Dish - not so much.  Rotating gear (attached to dish) fragile, hates vibration or misbalance.  Also, FWIW, believe the systems sensitivity to dish damage is very likely dependent upon what we are asking the radar to do.  Detect presence of target with some damage = no problem.  Provide precise range data to fire control computer with damaged dish = more problematic.  BL:  I am near-certain w/o asking that BFC is  modeling this thing as 'radar.'  The reverse of granular.  Remember, our game is primarily a ground conflict and the focus is on that.  

Have requested it (again) from the powers that be.  More critical than ever with advent of precision munitions in the modern game.  See previous posts reference to sacrificial offerings and large shipments of South African wine.  

“Vovk, Brytva 22 at checkpoint 2.  No sign of enemy.  We see nothing at the farm.  We are continuing.”
Serzhant Klim Levitsky, commander of Tunguska Razor 22 was so scared he could barely hold still.  Yet his fear gave him focus, and his crew simply thought he was extraordinarily attentive to his duty.  As air defense soldiers, their training and education was a notch above the infantry and other combat soldiers.  Klim had two years at University!  But ever since the Russian invasion, their world had narrowed to the grease, wiring and electrical tape necessary to keep their complex vehicle rolling and operating.  Though the electrical components were sealed, Levitsky had taught them together how to troubleshoot basic faults using a wiring diagram and a breakout box.  Their Battery mechanic had helped, although the radar tech had cautioned them to leave the fire control system alone.  He also led them through training drills, using their system to track birds visually, and to run the appropriate tests and checks on the missiles, fuze setters, lead computing sight, slew and elevation mechanisms and the cannon feed systems.  A nightmare of complexity when compared with a simple main battle tank, yet Serzhant Levitsky loved it, and was grateful for the opportunity to systematically engage any aircraft that came within his weapon’s range.
 
Unfortunately, Levitsky was not quite emotionally prepared for the chaos of combat.  While his technical and tactical skills were first rate, adapting oneself to the understanding that nothing was ever going to go according to plan was difficult for the orderly young college student.  Assigned to the Krichek air defense sector, he had absorbed the air defense plan, airspace control measures, IFF settings and learned to follow the rules of engagement to prevent them from engaging a NATO aircraft (and potentially losing NATO Air Support!).  But as the situation in Krichek became more desperate, he started getting anxious.  While his less organized peers adapted grimly to the new tasks of building a ground defense, Klim stuck doggedly to his air defense doctrine.  Not until KPT Kovtun himself had carefully walked him through the rehearsal for his role, had he allowed himself to accept that he might actually execute this plan.  Now he was rolling forward, unsupported to check out a Russian recon truck that had been spotted earlier by LT Lysenko, and his mind was reeling.  The artillery of the last half hour had rattled him badly, and his linkage to the command and control nets only fueled his fears as station after station stopped reporting, some with audible finality.  He fully expected to see the deadly snout of a Russian T-90 leveled at him with every new meter of ground he could see.  Only the familiar acid-tang smell electronics mixed with grease had kept him stable.  Outwardly though, he remained not only in control but rigidly focused, rattling off precise clipped commands and scanning literally non-stop.
“Gunner, ground burst, four-zero rounds, at the left side of the building,” he spoke into his intercom headset.
“Identified, armed,” said the gunner, followed an instant later by the radar operator:
“Safety off!”
“Fire.” 
“Firing!” 
The buzz saw whined, the twin cannons firing at a combined rate of well over 4000 round per minute, spitting a greater weight of explosive at the building than a tank round.  The building shuddered under the impact. 
“Repeat engagement, fire.” Another burst spat out, followed by another.  On the third, the building collapsed in a heap. 
“Confirm no truck,” the Serzhant said.
“Nothing,” the gunner responded.
“We have alerted the enemy – wide area scan,” Levitsky said.  As he spoke, a loud detonation sounded just outside the track to the left.  Peering through his cupola window, he calmly said:
“Correction, scan left.  Infantry 100 meters.” The turret slewed instantly to the ten o’clock position.
“I see them!”
“Gunner, ground burst, four-zero rounds, Infantry, fire!”  Klim’s voice finally rose as he gave the command to kill another human being, but his whirling mind that wanted to blubber uncontrollably was locked into near-robotic adherence to his repetitive training.  The Russian scout, inexplicably trying to run after his near miss with the RPG, suddenly reversed course when the twin lines of destruction blasted parallel paths to his front and rear. 
“Miss, reengage, fire and track.”
“Firing!”
This time the rounds physically struck the sprinting Russian, blowing his torso nearly in half and tossing pieces of him into the nearby trees.  Klim’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head in shock, but his voice remained ice cold and smooth.
“Return to wide area scan.”
“Look, another one!” the gunner sang out.  Again Klim responded automatically,
“Gunner, ground burst, five-zero rounds, Infantry, fire.” 
This time the burst caught the second Russian the first time, fragments tossing him to the ground like a shotgun blast to a running hare.  His blood painted the grass, and Klim could see his eyes go glassy through his magnified sight. 
“Continue to scan.  Radar Operator, check feed chute linkages and compensator fluids.” 
Klim told himself that he could handle this.  He would get used to it and it would somehow become okay.  He thought about the fact that he had just blotted two or more men from the planet, but then immediately refocused on how to keep his track alive.  He knew his designated route for this patrol, but also knew that he was unlikely to have killed all the scouts that threatened his fragile track.  Gears in his mind whirred and clicked into a new pattern, and he spoke again.
“Hey, uh, driver.  When we move out, we’ll pull back around behind these trees, not out in front of them.  And I want you to focus on keeping the ride nice and smooth so Mykola can scan, okay?  That was really well done.  We are in it deep, but we will get through it together. Remember our training, but think hard about what we must do.”  He wiped sweat from his brow and rubbed his gloved hands on his thighs. 
“Here, guns, have some water.  Everyone take a drink, but save the vodka for later.  We need to stay sharp.” 
“Vovk, this is Brytva 22.  Engaged and killed two enemy scouts.  Cannot identify truck.  Continuing patrol.” 
 
http://youtu.be/DiLjwZjG7k8
 
Brytva 22 is actually Robocop
 
In Starov village, LT Martynyuk was angry.  He knew what was happening – his experience back in 2014 left him in no doubt that the wheels had come off the car, and his mortar platoon was in trouble.  He strode towards one gun team to get confirmation on their round count – he knew he could call, but felt the urge to see his men up close.  As he approached the section truck, he felt a shock through the ground that merged with a concussive ‘Boom!’ from just beyond the village.  He looked, and saw another column of smoke marking the end of yet another Ukrainian BMP.  He looked over at the gun crew, then up at the cab of the truck.  The driver was smoking a cigarette. 
“Soldat.  You have an RPG, yes?”
Like a child caught with a sweet, the young man froze his mouth agape, staring at the officer as though the words were in a foreign language.
“Well, do you?”
“Yes, Leytenant!”
“Get it, get all your ammo, and go over to that building there.  Tell the Serzhant of 1st Platoon that you are there to help.  If any Russian tanks come through, I am counting on you to stop them.  You understand?  You must cover us – we cannot fight tanks with mortars”
Breathing hard, the pimple-faced soldier jumped down from the cab.
“Yessir.  I…   I will.  I understand.”  He fumbled with his ammo satchel with the rockets sticking out, but got it slung and jogged off without another word.
Martynyuk watched him go, wondering if he would ever see him again.  He needed to ask him his name.