August, 1981.
My starting SADF OOB includes:
Company HQ
Four scout/rifle squads
Two platoon HQs
7.62mm MMG team
60mm mortar team
....eventually reinforced by...............
A platoon of Eland 90mm armored cars
Two platoons of mechanized infantry riding Buffel transports.
Four Impala attack aircraft.
My mission is to block a N-S road that will see FAPLA troops trying to flee the main SADF effort presumed to be taking place to the south. A real quick intro here should let ya know that Protea was an effort by South Africa to destroy SWAPO bases in Angola (which were also occupied by their FAPLA allies). So this battle represents/simulates a side show to the main event.
The bulk of the map is unremarkable scrubland with a small town to the south perched alongside the highway. In that town, there's a little side street running east to west.
Anyway, while holding the VLs lining the N-S road is clearly important, the scenario lists one very specific condition – in order to claim victory, I have to inflict at least 600 points worth of damage on the FAPLA
beyond whatever they’re able to dish out on to my troops.
The first two turns see four Puma helicopters land my starting force to the north, where they quickly set up a hasty defensive line running east to west. The force I’ll call A Platoon – with a command element, rifle squads and 7.62mm MMG, sees the machine gun crew plunk down in a patch of trees immediately west of the road (a nice keyhole position that lets me see about 250m to the south). Two squads are positioned immediately to the SE and SW of the MMG team. They're also taking advantage of what little cover they can find, and have orders not to fire on anything beyond 150m of their position.
The platoon leader is squatting down right behind the heavy weapons crew.
The understrength unit – B Platoon – sees one squad maybe two hundred meters east of the road supported by its command element. The second squad is an equal distance west of that lane, but supported by my Company command team. The mortar is placed a few hundred meters to the rear).
Right after we’ve set up we see a BRDM armored car come trundling up the road, and it’s immolated by one of A Platoon’s RPG-7s. Maybe a hundred meters beyond that our machine gun crew can see an old, battered T-34 chugging its way north, followed by at least two aging BTR-152s.
We don’t have air support yet, so the squads flanking the road keep their heads down
, let the first T-34 draw close and then nail it with yet another shoulder-carried anti-tank warhead before popping smoke and obscuring the view of FAPLA units to the south (and there’s a bunch of ‘em).
The B Platoon boys to our east see a BTR-152 swing in their direction, kill it, and then mow down a handful of the panicked guerrilla fighters who come spilling out of the open-topped vehicle. It’s interesting that the armoured shutters protecting the driver aren’t enough to keep guys like him entirely immune from small arms fire
But what’s equally interesting, and distressing, is that the BRDM that’s accompanied the APC seems to live a charmed life, shrugging off RPGs and suppressing my infantry with machine gun fire.
My left flank is already feeling some pressure. But along the road, things keep going my way. Two more BTR-152s push up, only to get nuked by my anti-armor grunts, and the PBI who then stumble about in the smoke caused by all that burnin’ wreckage (along with my grenades) are massacred by the massed fire of my 7.62mm HMG and assault rifles.
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Down south, I’m fooled into thinking the cavalry’s arrived when the first Elands and Buffels make an appearance down in that town I mentioned earlier. But they’re soon taking rifle and RPG fire from the FAPLA fellas boiling out of huge, troop-carrying trucks.
That doesn’t pose too much of a problem, though, as the Elands lay down suppressing fire with their 90mm low velocity guns and MGs while the infantry leapfrogs in wedge formation from building to building, knocking seven of the enemy into the dirt without taking any losses. The Elands concentrate their main gun fire on the trucks, and before long three of them are burning along a side street.
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Up North, I’m startin to sweat a little. B Platoon’s Eastern squad hasn’t won its fight with that BRDM, but it hasn’t lost either. That nearby HQ element helps my boys squelch their fear long enough to pull back out of LOS under the cover of smoke, and soon the armored car is flaming wreckage as the first Impala has arrived!
Those jets are OLD. But they pack enough of a punch to kill the BRDM and a T-34 advancing up the road. Another tank eats an RPG-7. The main FAPLA thrust is kind of swinging to the west as infantry and AFVs alike are rebuffed, seem to panic and then veer to the side. My company HQ and B Platoon’s remaining squad nose up to reinforce that flank and it’s a one-sided slaughter as vehicle crews and infantry squads disperse or are wiped out all together.
It keeps following that trend, with my troops gradually pulling back to the north…bending under the weight of FAPLA armor but sacrificing only one VL…and so far no casualties.
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My grunts to the south have suffered two losses themselves, but are dishing it out far better than they’ve been taking it.
I now have a full platoon of Elands, a few more mechanized infantry squads and hopes of linking up with my assets manning that roadblock. We advance, and take fire from a 40mm AA gun that’s unlimbered from an FAPLA truck. Shells dance around the lead car’s hull before the unlucky crew finds itself the center of the entire platoon’s attention. The gun doesn’t last long. Neither does the truck.
We scoot forward and the column finds itself targeted by a T-34 partnered with a single infantry squad. The shot misses, and the point car pops smoke like mad. We reverse out of harm’s way, hoping the tank will edge its way into LOS. But it never does.
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Up north, the song and dance continues. We chop down FAPLA infantry. We fire off RPG-7s at the odd vehicle. By now there’s several burned out hulls ….including 3 T-34s, an equal number of APCs and a few armoured cars….dotting the road and surrounding landscape. What we can't kill with small arms gets nuked by Impalas.
Our company command watches a BRDM drive past – close enough to be within spitting distance. But all the surviving guerrillas just seem interested in hauling ***.
And that’s where it kind of fades into silence. I don’t risk pushing around that T-34 to the south, and the commies are all jumpy and trying to get out of my way. That southern town has a heap of bodies featured in a lot of combat photos. And my northern blocking force bounds forward, gunning down the stray enemy rifleman.
End Score = 747 to 34 points. I win.