We had left much of our items at the encampment so our Bergen’s were considerably lighter than before. We carried a radio each and our weaponry that included several hand grenades, one C4 and a knife. We each had water and our standard rifle or assault rifle. We left for our destination, travelling in harsh conditions, heavy rain that was making the paths treacherous and we would occasionally slip over in the boggy tracks leading down to Bricht; this was the only route. The clouds were as dark as the night, making spotting the enemy no easy task, my thoughts were scattered, as I was the patrol leader and the soldier responsible for the completion of the assignment. I was wondering many things such as how many
enemy soldiers were there in the village and what artillery they possessed, would we all get out alive and most importantly would be successful.
We had been travelling for thirty minutes, each step carefully planned to stop water from entering our weathering boots. Our boots were covered in masses of muck and wet mud; the air had a stagnant smell about it, the atmosphere felt viscid.
It was 10:20 hours by the time we had reached our communications point, we contacted the encampment and told them we had reached the checkpoint, we were then told what to do next.
“ This is the captain speaking, your next task is to breach the artillery walls surrounding the village, you are to leave no enemy forces alive. I wish for 100 percent hostage release and will not accept failure. I wish to be in contact with you again at 14:00 hours.”
“ Yes Sir” I replied.
My task had been relayed but not in the greatest detail, detailed information concerning this village was scarce and the population of enemy soldiers within the vicinity of the village of Bricht was unknown. We were to lead an ambush on the village square and we would enter from the east, we hoped to surprise the enemy and break the resistance without being identified.
This was the biggest test of ability, strength and character we had had, the training we had done back home was all leading to this kind of mission, I and most of the others had been training for two years before we were classified as high ability soldiers. This was our time, we were concentrated and the four of us were as ready as we would ever be.
We closed in on the village walls, at this time no enemy soldier could be seen and there was nobody present. We decided to split into two groups; we had Jackson and me together whilst Jones went with Webster. One group would head into the village square and the other two people would find another route into Bricht. As we got closer to the square we could see sandbags had been placed neatly in stacks, I assumed these were barricades, there were many of these scattered in the square so we had to change our plan, we decided if it would be best to attack the enemy from the rear, this would give us the advantage over them and many enemies would fall before they had a chance to retaliate. So we hid under cover, slowly crawling through the foliage till we reached the west entrance.
Through the binoculars three men could be seen in discussion, an additional man was ten yards to the left of him behind a tall barricade of wood and sandbags, he was behind what looked like an M60E3 emotionless, still, concentrated, waiting, waiting for us. Webster was the man for this so we radioed through to him explaining our situation, he decided to come and join us, Jones decided to stay in his current position and survey his surroundings.
Webster finally arrived at our location and we told him what was happening. It took a lot of discussing but we thought it was best if Webster took the first shot at the soldier behind the barricade, then we would add support fire aiming at the three soldiers.
We sat silent only the faint cries of woodland animals could be heard, the echo of distant cries travelling with the cool breeze. Then it came the sudden click of the bolt on the MK111, our sniper was about to take the shot, he had cocked the gun and was taking aim, holding still lying within the bushes, enemy unaware of his presence.
“THWACK”
In an instant all that could be heard was the heavy fire, I did not know how long for but we kept firing one, two, three the men dropped.
We each exchanged glances but showed no signs of fear, we were only at the beginning, we knew the town had now been alerted of our coming and we were prepared for a battle; equipping our bayonets taking deep breathes we hurried to the village walls.
The village looked like it had once been a place of trade, where the merchants met and exchanged goods. There were a few trading caravans tattered and worn in the corner of the square. Apart from that there was nothing except a destroyed fountain in the middle of the square that looked like it had been purposefully vandalised. Always on high alert we stepped with caution, we stepped out into the square when we suddenly heard footsteps, lots of them all heading towards us, I gave the call sign for us to stop.
“ Men hold position, get down and fire at will!” I commanded.
“ Yes Sir” they all replied.
Acknowledging my decision they took position and waited for contact. It seemed like eternity waiting, the world was flashing before you, all that could be heard was marching and the occasional ‘ chink’ of a weapon. Then before us was a group of enemy troops, ready to eliminate us.
Then the fire, continuous, rapid fire of our Thompson’s, as loud as a thousand explosions, then the small noise ‘ clink, clink, clink’ of empty bullet cases hitting the floor. Before my eyes the enemy falling one by one, I felt out of control, a short burst of uncontrollable rage that was being used to take away someone else’s life. We had decimated the main bulk of the resistance here at Bricht, but there was no time to celebrate as the fearful sound of a KAR-98k was heard and before the eyes could blink we could here screams coming from Jones who had met us just prior to the encounter. We took cover under some rubble and dragged Jones in, he had taken a shot to the left leg, blood was oozing from the wound and I feared for the worst, he had been hit by a fifty calibre bullet that was capable of firing up to two kilometres. We did not have the equipment to cure this kind of injury, there was nought that we could do, and we prayed that the bleeding would stop if we kept it tight but it was no use. After five minutes of battling against the pouring blood Jones finally succumbed to death, shocked and stunned we fell back against the rocks grief-stricken. In a mix of emotions we still had to complete out task, disheartened I told Webster to extinguish the enemy marksman, within seconds there I was witnessing a sniper battle between the two forces, I awaited the outcome, I fell back in a daze wishing I was back home, drinking tea or reading the newspaper, but I was here serving my country. Then I heard a distant cry of pain and a ‘thud’, the enemy sniper had fallen and we were safe, Webster scouted the area but nothing was present.
We carefully edged round the intricate buildings, occasionally stopping to analyse the surroundings. We had been in the village for about an hour and we had already lost one man, there seemed to be a lot less people than we had imagined, we were suspicious yet it seemed odd to us that there had been so few encounters with the enemy. We turned many corners and went through some small alleys we had surveyed most of the village and we had covered a large amount of ground, not much was left to be checked upon. The only place yet to be looked upon was the town hall, we had left that place till last as it had been a headquarters for enemy sieges in the past.
The town hall was a small square shaped building with many sculptures carefully designed on top of it, it had intricate designs on the walls and was a faded white. One wall had been knocked down and the rubble had just been left in the road, also the door had been smashed down was left lying on the floor. We decided to use stealth to reach the entrance of the hall; we assumed this place would be heavily guarded from the inside. We managed to get to the walls unscathed; we peered inside and saw nothing, only the once beautiful building stained with an evil. We lowered ourselves and slowly crawled in. There was debris all over the floor and benches had been ripped from they’re foundations and had been stacked on the sides. There were remnants of a fire and tin cans had been carelessly left. There was a drifting smell of smoke that choked you when you inhaled it, there was a sense of danger here, we couldn’t identify it but we sensed something did not seem right. We continued our search of the building, which stretched back quite far. We were coming to a door we had missed before when we heard voices and before we could move we were surrounded. The enemy had come from an underground tunnel that was situated in the far corner of the room. We had been ambushed and captured; I had failed my country and myself, and most importantly my comrades. We were stripped of our equipment and we were left with nothing but our clothing. We were split up and we were each given to a set of armed troops. They told us that they would take us to a prisoner of war camp, and we were sent in a lorry carrying 4 other soldiers who we did not recognise.
Travelling to the camp, I felt empty and confused wondering where my future would lie. My part was over in this war, I had been torn in two, left a broken man.
