07 May 1987
Bravo Troop
1st Squadron
4th Cavalry Regiment
First Infantry Division (Mechanized)
Near Hutchiinson, KS
First Lieutenant Helen Zangas fought back tears as she grabbed the microphone. Her M577 command track was one of the few surviving vehicles in the troop; her attached M901 ITVs had both fireballed, and her 12 M3 Bradley CFVs had been whittled down to three.
It's a death ride.
"Saber Bravo, this is Ironman Flight, priority is GBADS, inbound twenty!"
Zangas took half a second to reformat her order. "All Bravo elements, engage GBADS, now-now-now!"
A few pitiful explosions here and there as three SA-11s and two Tunguskas fireballed.
Something seemed to slap at her leg.
And then more Mavericks and Hellfires than she'd ever seen in her life fell out of the sky, and wherever they landed, a Soviet T-80 or a BMP-2 blew up.
It was glorious.
"Saber Bravo, Dagger 6, we're passing your lines in a minute, Demon's got our right flank."
Hawkins was grabbing at her leg.
"What the hell, Hawkins?"
"YOU NEED A TORNIQUET BEFORE YOU BLEED OUT!"
She passed out as the lead elements of the Big Red One's 2nd Brigade rolled past her command track in an unstoppable wave.
* * *
Zangas came to lying on her back, in a dimly lit room. She had IVs hung, her mind was fuzzy, and she started coughing when she tried to open her mouth.
A nurse--part of her noted that she looked kinda cute--came over and held up a cup of water with a straw. "Here, just sip. Your mouth's going to be pretty dry.
She took a sip and swished it around her mouth, swallowed, took another. She felt better.
"Where am I?"
"Alfred Wilson Army Medical Center, Grand Island, Nebraska. It's the 19th. What's the last thing you remember?"
"Hawkins--the company clown--was pawing at my left leg, I asked what the hell, he said something about a torniquet."
"Yeah, you took some spall in your leg, it must've bled pretty heavily. Fixing the wound wasn't a problem, except you ended up catching a nasty variant of staph that shrugged off most of the antibiotics they had at the MASH, so they medevac'd you here. You're still feverish, but the infection's going down."
"Got it."
Zangas yawned once and passed out.
* * *
About a week later, the lights were on, and Zangas was reclined at about 30 degrees.
Someone senior came into the ward, and made his way to her bed.
Holy shit it's Schwartzkopf
Helen said, "Good morning, sir."
Schwartzkopf smiled. "Good afternoon. That was one hell of a piece of soldiering at Hutchinson, Lieutenant. You should've been a light snack, and instead you held them for three hours and kept Fifth Army from getting flanked."
Zangas said, "Sir . . . it didn't feel like I was doing a good job. I lost three-fourths of my troop--"
Schwartzkopf shook his head. "You should've lost all of your troop, including yourself. In a fight like that, anyone surviving is a victory. That you held Ivan's best troops for three hours with some of your command surviving, and setting them up to get rolled by the entire division? That, young lady, is a goddamned miracle. No pity party for you. By all means, mourn that your troops died; but also be thankful that such men and women lived."
Zangas felt herself straighten slightly in the bed. "Yes, sir."
"Outstanding."
An aide passed a bundle to Schwartzkopf, who in turn handed it to Zangas.
"This is your mail. I figured I'd get it to you."
"Thank you, sir."
Schwartzkopf said, "Understand, this is going to go all the way up to Philly. So be ready for . . . well, I don't know what."
"Yes, sir."
* * *
After clearing away the usual stuff, setting aside the bills to get paid when she could get to a bank, and tossing the junk mail, Zangas first read a letter from her parents and wrote a reply, telling them she'd gone to the hospital, but she was all right.
She then saw the letter from Roberta.
She slit it open and pulled out the paper inside.
Zangas read and reread that first paragraph with a sense of awe, wonder, and joy.Darling Helen,
First things first: yes, I accept your proposal. I will be your wife. I will share with you the good times and the bad, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.
"Your vitals have improved. Good news?"
Helen looked up at the doctor and said, "Yes. My true love said she'd marry me."
The doctor smiled. "That's wonderful! I expect you'll want to get word to her that you're wounded but safe."
* * *
May 30th, 1987
Delta Company
132nd Engineer Battalion
40th Infantry Division (Mechanized)
Artesia, NM
Lieutenant Roberta Kreider stepped into the CO's tent and said, "Lieutenant Kreider reporting as ordered, sir."
Captain Barker said, "Lieutenant, I just received a priority message for you from Philly regarding one Lieutenant Helen Zangas in Fifth Army."
Roberta felt her heart leap into her throat, and Barker said, "She's alive. Wounded and medevac'd, but alive. I want you to hand the platoon over to Lieutenant Prentiss, he's a good lad, ready to take command; I want you at Division HQ in Roswell, preparatory to retrograde to Sixth Army HQ. For some reason, Big Army wants you to remain alive and well."
* * *
16 June 1987
Echo Company
2nd Battalion, 26th Marines
Fifth Marine Division
Lubbock, TX
Captain Jonathan Hardcastle rubbed a hand along his jaw, frowning at the stubble.
"Send it, Corpsman."
Hosptial Corpsman (Fleet Marine Force) Second Class Jennifer Danilov said, "Sir, it's about Gunny Mantell. He's . . . well, sir, you have to understand. Sergeant Webster and Gunny Mantell were . . . attracted to each other. Never acted on it--"
Hardcastle nodded. "I understand."
"Well, sir . . . right now, I'm worried that Gunny might go on a death ride. And the entire platoon will follow him. Half to try to save him . . . and the other half to die with him."
Hardcastle looked her in the eye. "Which group are you in?"
Danilov whispered, "I don't know, sir."
Hardcastle nodded again.
"All right. I'm shuffling the assignments. Tell Gunny Mantell I'd like to see him, please, and while he's here, pack up his seabag, and have the acting platoon sergeant handle turn-in for his deuce gear. He's off to Vandenberg."
* * *
"Gunnery Sergeant Mantell reporting as ordered."
"Gunny, I've cut you orders to rehab at Vandenberg. Look, you're mentally injured. You've borne your burden for far too long, and it's just like having a physical wound; you need treatment and time to recuperate. I don't want you doing some death ride because I left you in charge and let you crack up completely. Get well, and don't come back to the front until you are. This war's still a long way from over, I want you to get to the end alive and reasonably well, understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed."
"Aye aye, sir."