Twilight 2000

By The Dawn’s Early Light Campaign

Game Turn Three Motorized Group

The Next Morning...

Colonel Illyia Romanov, commander of the 76th Guards Airborne Division, walked through the desolation that had been Rally Point Omega. Russian dead far outnumbered the Americans who had sold their lives dearly. A handful of Desantniki had combed through the wreckage but had not found anything. They had tracked it to this area, someone must have escaped with it again. The Russian Tankers and Motor Rifles were ever resentful of the paratroops. They maintained a respectful distance even as they buried the dead and looked for anything worth salvaging.. Suddenly a shot rang out and the sniper collapsed in in a crumpled heap. The Colonel’s personal escort lowered his SVD Sniper Rifle. Aside from his weapon and personal gear he had no identification. The Desantniki Intelligence Officer knew they had gotton a US Marine from telltale quirks. A M40 Bolt Action rifle, the tattoos, and the style of fatigues.

Ensign Wilkins looks down at the Jar Head. "The only reason you're speaking to me is because I came straight at you. I saw you from 100 yards away and I figured that the only person who might know anything just might be a Marine...certainly not these dogs. Stop layin' around like nothin's wrong and point me to where I can find the man in charge of this SNAFU."

Corporal Grey said, “If you say so sir.” He thought to himself, even without insignia I would recognize him as an officer. That young probabily academy but no telling. He gave a curt nod and pointed out Major Owens as the ranking man and Captain O’Grady as the only brass who seemed to have a clue.... He recognized O’Grady’s a S-2 type whom he had spoken with a couple of times on the radio. He barely had reported himself in when their conversation was interrupted by the CSM’s shout of, “ INCOMING!!!” Here we go again he thought, as dropped into the nearest cover available and snapped off a short burst from his G11 dropping a careless Russian in a Motor Rifle Uniform and causing several others to duck. It quickly became apparent that the Rally Point couldn’t be held and other than a small rearguard everyone was bugging out. He quickly mounted his horse and took off after the Captain’s Hummer.

Sergeant Snowden had just calmed this nurse down and sat her under a tree. He walked over past her ambulance that he was considering commandeering. Maybe later, for now it was crawling with medics removing wounded...although they all looked dead...more boys who'd never see their mothers again.

Finally that damn dog quit barking...I don't remember hearing the shout of "Incoming!" I'd always handled combat with a reflexive action that seemed to move me faster than my brain could process it. I'm hugging earth the sky is lit up an the ambulance that I almost climbed in, is laying on it's side. I brought my weapon up after the brief period of shelling stopped. The concert of shell bursts was replaced by beautiful but deadly tracers skipping in and out of the compound, accompanied by the relentless hammering of numerous small arms. Nothing to shoot at except that T80, only 6 hours ago I'd been confronted by this same thing. I'm seemingly alone against a T80 with nothing but a shotgun...what the hell I thought...My shot gun barked at the MBT and she blew up. Comically I did a double take at my CAW...Must of been a shell from something else...or I've really made a friend in the Big Guy upstairs. A bunch of troopers went scurrying by me, some vehicles started pulling away..I better get on one or I'm spending the rest of eternity in this field. I saw an officer running for a Hummer FSV, I sprinted after him. He climbed into the drivers side and fired the motor just as I reached the back...I lept at the door as it pulled away...good thing I'm so agile. I had my feet on the floor board, with the door still open, I don't think the Captain even noticed. There was a figure in the passengers seat...instinctively I grabbed under her to move her further in as I slid into the seat beside her...she moved so easy, was so light...this wasn't a soldier...she smelled of perfume...she smelled like home. She slid into the TC Seat. “Miss Caswell CNN, how do you do? What some of you guys will do to get a girl’s attention.” He replied "Name's Snowden "he yells over the din of the motor/firing/wind . "I don't have any training on the 25 up top, so I'll try and keep Ivan at bay with this" slightly raising his shotgun "Nice Night for a drive eh Captain...Ma’m?" I yelled with a smile. Now let me see If I can figure this gun out.” A quick check of the chain gun’s fire controls told Snowden he was a grunt and not a cannon cocker. He stuck the CAW out window and cut down two Russian Infantry in their path that were reloading an RPG Launcher. The female to his amazement was trying to ready a small camcorder...

Things never go as planned. CPL "Philly John" Carmine had learned that long ago. A few years ago he would have imagined himself running a chopshop somewhere in the

neighborhood of the 69th Street Station, earning the big bucks, tearing down Chevy

Blazers, Beemers, and the occasional Porsche. Oh, and chasing pretty girls who liked big

guys to spend money on them. But then there was the small matter of a warrant for parole

violation, his flight south along the Appalacian Trail, and a careless night spent in a Ranger

Fire Tower that cost him his freedom. The upshot of it all was, he was drafted (spelled

"shanghaied") into the Army, deployed to Germany, repaired vehicles for a DISCOM

Support Battalion for 2 years, and finally wound up as an Infantry Fire Team Leader,

toting the M60E3 he called "Sweetheart". If Johnny dwelt on it too long, it made his head

hurt. So when TSHTF at the Rally Point, Johnny threw in with a small group of other 5th

Division troopers. Some he knew a little, others were complete strangers. John put his

trust and faith in what he saw in some of these people, hoping to increase his chances of

surviving this God-awful mess.

As the convoy finally pulled clear of the carnage and sounds of the battle began to lesson...The Captain waived everyone to a halt and decided to get organized

We'll set all radios to 36.40Mhz, change the frequencies as required...

Horseback: Ensign. Wilkins (Recon element)

Humvee FSV: Driver-Cpl. Carmine

Gunner-Sgt. Gondorenko

(First Response/Heavy Hitter)

5 ton truck: Driver-Harriet Caswell CNN (NPC)

Gunner-Sgt. Snowden

(Main Body)

UAZ-469: Driver-Capt. O'Grady

Gunner-

(Rear Guard/Additional Recon)

Miss Caswell holsters her PPK, pockets the spare mags, grabs her duffel

bag and camera case. As she heads for the truck she comments, "Got some great film of the battle, down to my last two cassettes. This thing looks about the same size as a race vehicle transporter, yeh I can handle it. Captain, sir where's Major Owens? That used to be his Hummer...When no one answered she bit her lip, stifled a sob and climbed in the truck

Capt O'Grady and Sgt. Gondorenko walked over to the Humvee. "Cpl.Carmine, this is Sgt. Gondorenko. He'll be manning the 25mm. Keep in constant radio contact with the rest of the convoy, and don't be afraid to sing out with anything you spot, no matter how trivial it may appear. I'll be covering our ass. Get this thing fired up and prepare to move

out. Good luck to you both." Capt. O'Grady gave them both a nod, then

turned and walked back to the 5 ton truck.

Sgt. Gonderenko sat down in the gunnner's seat, strapped himself in, and warmed up the fire control system. He traversed the gun left and right, getting a feel for it. Satisfied, he turned to Cpl. Carmine, and patted him on the shoulder. For the first time since he had seen him, the Ukrainian smiled. It was a smile that Cpl. Carmine was sure had made

more than one prisoner wet his pants. He said simply, "We kill Russians,

Da?" Then he laughed.

Cpl. Carmine despite his matter-of-fact hatred for officers, John saw something in this CPT O'Grady.

He inspired confidence in the group, and John would follow him. At least until the man

cracked, was killed, or someone better came along. So when CPT O'Grady said drive the

FSV, John jumped at the chance. Yes, a Russkie was manning the 25 mm gun above

John's head. Don't ask questions. The guy's with the CPT, so he must be ok. (Oh, a

Ukrainian? I'm sorry. I really don't know the difference. As long as you keep slinging the

lead AWAY from us, you're #1 in my book...John donned his NVG, and checked the radio for the 9th or 10th time. He readied his pack in the storage compartment behind him. He bungie corded the thing in place so it won't roll out at an in opportune moment. Then his "Sweetheart" M60E3 was readied, and would be the first weapon he grabbed should the vehicle become immobilized, or should he need to bail out. John didn't care if anyone saw him -- he kissed, yes kissed each vehicle before the group got underway. John realized he was no Mario Andretti, but he was a competent driver. He knows and loves vehicles. So he took it easy during the travel specified by the CPT, not pulling any high G turns in the FSV, yet keeping with the group, and attempting to make as good of time as possible. He forced himself to keep in touch with the CPT, and also with the Ukranian SGT manning the 25mm gun. He kept a watchful eye open for trouble, checked the route with the CPT, and checked the maps, so that he was familiar with the route, and the surroundings for the trip. And he tried to work as best he could with the Ukranian SGT with whom he had been teamed, not chatting overly much, but genuinely trying to establish good, consistent working habits. John was used to interacting with different ethnicities on the streets of Philly, and tried his best to do well with the SGT.

. Capt. O'Grady quickly went over his small convoy’s vehicle assets. He was debating adding the Russian UAZ-469. The Chain Gun HMMWV was a blessing and curse. The firepower was nice but it could carry little else beyond the crew, gun, and ammo. The Five Ton had the still and lots of cargo space, but limited cross country mobility. Combined with a former race car driver a t the wheel. Apparently the Russian Jeep had been the Team Vehicle for a group of Spetsnaz operating in the area. Corporal Grey had acquired it after reaching out and touching the former owner with one well placed shot. He had no use for it as he was leaving with the remnants of the cavalry.

Corporal Carmine checked out the Warsaw Pact vehicle which had definitely seen better days and was amazed to find it was set up to run on diesel. It had half a tank plus three full Jerry Cans.

How far could they get was on everyone’s mind. Carmine went over the figures with the Captain. Based on a four hour bound, running on Methanol, moving cross country and tactical. Methanol allows us to cover 25% of our norm, if we were running on Ethanol that figure improves to 33%

Normal 4 hour move with gas or diesel

Hummer Capacity 90 Liters moves 60 klicks cross country and will burn 30 liters

Five Ton Capacity 280 Liters moves 35 Klicks cross country and will burn 70 liters

UAZ 469 Capacity 60 Liters moves 45 Klicks cross country and will burn 20 liters

Basically sir your Hummer can go 15 Klicks, the truck almost 9, and the Russian Jeep 20.

We can make two four hour runs without refueling. The tank trailer your pulling can fully refuel us three times. Combined with what the still can put out allows us a two day run. sir. Then we’ve got to lay low for awhile and brew or capture some more fuel.

Sergeant Snowden put his chemistry knowledge to use checking out the still to ensure they were get the most out of our distilling process. At the first stop he looked over that

things and saw while methanol they were making now was easier to forage raw material, ethanol would give better performance maybe a little first class drinking hooch on the side.

Next on the agenda was that M2 atop that 5 tonner that I've been assigned to "my baby." His gunsmith skills told him the ma deuce hadn’t seen any serious maintenance in a long time. He soon had the gun field stripped, cleaned, polished, and looking fresh from the arms room. Well we’ll see what IRISH has in store for us as he inked "Don't Shoot Me" in Russian on right side of his helmet and Brother's name "Aaron" small on rear band.

Captain O’Grady considered everything he had been told and decided they would head south for Ostrow. Intell reports had informed him there was a Polish Priest in contact with local guerillas and sympathetic to NATO. Corporal Grey who had actually met him confirmed the information was accurate.

Sergeant Schwartzenkempf and Corporal Szymas of 2nd Marines/2nd Division had been sent out with several other Scout Sniper / Force Recon Teams to establish contact with Fifth Mechanized Infantry Division. To that end they had been given coordinates for Rally Points, Pass Words, Challenges and Counter Signs. The Marine Baltic Coast Beach Head had been hit hard and a big battle had taken place off the coast; based on the night of fireworks and wreckage that had come in with tide. Apparently there was no Navy left to evac them, at least none in sight or radio contact. The remnants of the division had consolidated and decided to move inland to link up with the overland force; the German Third Army spearheaded by the US Army’s XI Corps. The advance scout snipers quickly found the area infested with with Polish and Russian Motorized Units. Breaking down into small teams, escape and evasion became the order of the day. They were cut off from 2nd Marines, and 5th Division was apparently overrun near Kalisz. Just when you though it couldn’t get worse. They decided to set up a good sniper’s position south of Kalisz well past the coordinates of the last Rally Point. They cached the remainder of their gear nearby and settlled down to wait. Early that morning a several small parties passed through, mostly Warsaw Pact Stragglers and a few panniced NATO rear echelon types. The Marines decided discretion was the better part of valor and allowed them to pass. Just as dawn broke a clanking and rattling was heard and and M-151 quarter ton ground to a halt not more than three hundred meters from their position. It was smoking badly from the engine. Two individuals in Polish Tanker uniforms got out and untied a third individual in BDU’s. Pointing a pistol they gestured towards the hood and shouted in Polish. “fix it!!” When the BDU clad individual moved slowly he was pistol whipped. Bam! Bam

The convoy had been making slow progress. The five ton was a fuel hogging snail that seemed to crawl along. They were just short of covering the 9-10 klicks of the first bound, barely halfway to Ostrow. When they heard gunfire. Ensign Wilkins on point, keyed his 2Km radio and gave the code word for unknown contact. He was off his mount and into cover in a flash. Captain O’Grady signaled the convoy to stop in a staggered line. Wilkins dived into a clump of bushes near a small ditch he had been previously reconning. He saw about 200 yards down slope an old style jeep with two dead Polish Armor troopers and somebody disappearing under the jeep. He readied his sniper rifle and searched the area and found nothing. Whoever had popped the Poles new his business, a single round in the head each. It had been too easy.

Sergeant Schwartzenkempf and Corporal Szymas moved to their next position. Wilkins was surprised by the movement and his snap shot missed but not by much. Syzmas felt the bullet pass through his shirt sleeve. The two Marines were amazed to see a small convoy and a horse using what little cover was available. A Hummer with some serious artillery on top was slowly traversing its turret back and forth. Suddenly the guy under the jeep sprang out and hauled ass. The Marines held their fire as he appeared to be wearing Army BDU’s. Ensign Wilkens had a general idea where the two snipers had gone but they disappeared. He paused when they didn’t fire on the apparent NATO troop who reached the Hummer with amazing speed. That combined with two dead Warsaw Pact types, made him decide to risk calling out a challenge. The Marines noted no one in the convoy had fired as well and thought you have to take a chance once in awhile. Without exposing themselves they yelled out a countersign and prepared to move. It was hard to say who was more surprised when both sides realized they received the correct response...

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It now 0800 July 19th the temperature is 72 degrees, clear skies. We’re going to Squad Leader Map Two (in SL each hex is thirty meters for purposes of this game each hex is 500 meters). The purpose of the maps is to give a general idea of what the terrain is like not exact details. The next turn will cover 12 hours but break up your activities into four hour blocks. We may or may not be able to progress that far depending on Random Encounters and Your Activities. Keep in mind vehicle maintenance, when your characters ate, slept last and took care of other necesities.The near Friendly Fire incident took place in FF5 (first full hex of the secondary road). Ostrow is just off the map and can be enterred from either fork of the road. The building in T-1 is Polish Curch and Monastary where Father Gankowitz is believed to be.

Turn Four Write ups are due Midnite EST Saturday October28.