The Day the Lights Went Out Into the Chaos Book 2: The Day the Lights went out, #2

By Terrence Aubrey

As Paul leads his group of power workers ever further east, destination Florida he finds himself leading an ever bigger convoy. It is just as well as their journey becomes increasingly perilous.  They soon find themselves caught up in a war with an army that is led by people with an agenda quite distinct to theirs; these people see the lack of electricity as an opportunity to become hugely wealthy emperors within the new reality. The power workers convoy becomes ever bigger and better armed which is just as well.  They find themselves fighting those of ill intent increasingly and had so far come out on top on every occasion. Never the less their focus remains undaunted reaching Florida and starting over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terrence Aubrey
• Release date: Sep 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393494515

Book preview

About the Author

Terrence Aubrey was born in Bristol, England, the only son of a Ballet dancer mother and composer father. Rebellious of nature from an early age, he abandoned his education at the earliest possible moment, fifteen. He showed no inclination of following in the artistic footsteps of his pants during his formative years. Preferring a self enlightening process, he set off upon an adventure that led him to experiment with understanding the mind and self awareness development.  This path led him to meet at the age of twenty four a young man from India who at the time was thirteen years of age, to this day the wisest man he ever met He has enjoyed extensive World travel across the countries of Europe, the America’s, north and south and the FSU. He found those travels, enriching mind opening and educational. Writing is something that he found he had both a passion and excitement for, quite late in life and set up a popular blog. Terrence Aubrey currently lives on a farm in southern Spain, cultivates Avocados and writes.

Chapter One

Inexplicably the City of Phoenix, Arizona, is plunged into darkness at four AM on the twenty third of November, two thousand and thirteen.

A small group of power workers from Phoenix Power, the sole suppliers of power for the city of Phoenix work through the night. They are faced with a mystery, nothing is down or broken, in fact everything is as it should be.

Phoenix is effectively plunged into chaos, there is no functioning communication. Paul Sanderson, the plant manager despatches six technicians to investigate the situation further afield. Using the plants powerful BMW motorbikes he sends four of his men elsewhere in Arizona, New River, Apache Junction, Buckeye and Gilbert. This was the only means of knowing how widespread the power outage was. For good measure he despatches a further two of his technicians further afield, one to El Paso, Texas and one to Pueblo, Colorado.

The news that the technicians bring back is worrying. All four of the chosen towns within Arizona are without electricity and equally there is no physical or logical reason why this should be.

Even more bizarrely they discover that vehicle lights will not function, even whilst vehicles fire up normally, competelty illogical.

It is decided that a small group of them should set off in convoy to investigate further afield the mystery. Girlfriends, ex girlfriends and a dog included.

Rapidly they give up the cause, something inexplicable has taken place. Realising that without power life within America was about to change dramatically, they change the nature of their mission.

They head south to Florida with the intention of setting up a farm. They effectively become a group of survivalists.

Unknown to them a small, but powerful group of military commanders to the south have declared martial law. They are increasing convinced that the power has been intentionally turned off!

As they drive south the situation deteriorates rapidly and they encounter increasing military road blocks.

Out of the blue, a young and extraordinarily gifted girl joins them, pairing up with their sole fellow traveller without a partner.

Eventually they encounter an army road block and discover the untruth’s that the armed forces have been fed.

A mutiny begins that slowly spreads in the hills of New Mexico. One afternoon, after Paul and their new recruit take a break from helping the soldiers in mutiny, she tells Paul the nature of the problem.

"The plug has been pulled on Man kind’s folly, she tells him and it will not be put back in!

Prologue. 

The further southeast the convoy of the Phoenix Power workers progress the more dangerous the situation becomes.

The army were taking over towns and cities across New Mexico and in many cases confiscating food, fuel and other essential supplies. The situation was rapidly deteriorating, the sky now frequently filled with columns of smoke form sacked towns.

The mutiny army, led by young Corporal Phil is meantime growing in strength, as the soldiers stationed in the hills join his growing mutiny.

The convoy member’s face a dilemma, do they continue south east, or try to help the mutiny army they have become involved with? They do both at the same time, two of their members returning to help the young Corporal while the rest continue south east!

When they reunite it is near the border of Oklahoma, it is highly dangerous, pockets of the armed forces lie all around.

They finally make it across the desert and into Oklahoma, but not without cost. Another young woman joins the convoy, the daughter of friends of Mitch, the astonishing young lady from the New Mexico hills. She can guide them further south and east.

As the situation continues to deteriorate they resort to ever slower and ever more remote country roads, or tracks. Meanwhile west of them huge battles are taking place. The young Corporal is determined to overthrow the army hierarchy that is causing so much death, destruction and suffering. Increasing numbers of soldiers join up with the young Corporal. There follow a series of battles between the now huge army of mutineers and the official army. These take place all across southern New Mexico.

Paul Sanderson suggests that they find a place to hole up and hide for a while. He felt that to continue south as the war raged had become too dangerous. It was an idea that worked fine for a while, but only a while.....

Day Fifteen

J

eff could see the road not to far ahead and slowed to turn right, the jeep not far behind them.

We will come to a crossroads in about four miles pull over; it’s where we part company with the army. Mitch shouted in his ear. They made good time on the tarmac road and it was not long until Jeff pulled to the side of the road. Time was of the essence, the enemy bikes were not yet in sight and both they and the army jeep needed to quickly escape. Mitch climbed off of the bike to quickly give the corporals directions while Jeff readied his bike for a hasty departure. Time was of the essence, the enemy bikes not far behind them and they were all the worse for ware, covered in dirt and suffering cuts and bruises.   

Take this road, Mitch told them, pointing to the left, follow it for twenty miles and take the next left, which will take you to the main highway. Turn right and you are heading back to your convoy, good luck, she wished both Corporal Adam’s and White in turn as she quickly climbed back onto the bike.

Corporals, your information on the placement of those Abram tanks and the eight wheeled Stryker’s is going to be crucial to Corporal Phil’s plans. Jeff shouted to them, from his bike. The success of your mission is going to depend on his ability to take them out quickly and cleanly. Your tanks cannot compete with them in a shootout.

We must catch up with our convoy now, Mitch called to them, and both Mitch and Jeff waved as they pulled away, straight ahead and through the crossroad. The soldiers took their left turn and coaxed the maximum speed they could from the jeep. They were only too aware that the enemy bikes were somewhere behind them. Corporal’s Adam’s and White shared a knowing look once they had achieved their best speed. They had just witnessed a young girl destroy five tanks, three halftracks and disable an eight wheeled Stryker unaided, and with not one missed shot! She had certainly evened up the fire power, now they hoped that their Commander would enjoy similar success.

Jeff slowed right down, as he watched his rear view mirror, if the enemy bikers had followed them this far he wanted to lure them into following the bike. He knew he could outrun them. The soldiers in the jeep could not and their safe return together with their information about the enemy convoy was very important, possibly critical, to Corporal Phil’s success.

Jeff spotted them, quite a bunch, maybe a mile back. He slowed a little more, he would allow them to close the distance to half a mile, then speed up sufficiently to maintain that distance for ten miles. That should give Corporals Adam’s and White chance to get clear and safe. He kept an eye on both his rear view mirror and milometer.

How are you? Jeff called back to Mitch.

Ok, she called back, don’t worry, I’m not as up as last time, I’ll explain my feelings to you when we stop.

How long do we stay on this road?

About forty five miles, she replied. Jeff glanced at his rear view mirror, his milometer and the road ahead. The bikers were still half a mile behind him, he had counted six and he was near the ten mile distance he had set himself. There was a curve ahead and he upped his speed, but not too much. He pulled around the first of a series of curves in the road.  

Hold tight, he shouted, Mitch hung onto him and he went for maximum speed. The effect was dramatic, as the powerful bike surged forward. Jeff leant into the second curve, checked his rear view, the enemy were not yet in view, and sped through the curve expertly. He saw yet another curve ahead and not so far and went for it. Still no sign of the enemy he saw as they followed the road. He felt sure that he’d lost them and given Corporal’s Adam’s and White enough time to escape. He maintained a speed of eighty miles an hour.

Paul produced some maps and laid them on the dirt as they finished their breakfast, they gathered around them.

We should have an easy ride to our next campsite, Paul told them, pointing to the X marking the rendezvous camp site that Mitch had shown them. It’s only about one hundred miles, but most probably the further south we travel the more army we will encounter. If they pull us over we will stick with the same story, but hopefully that will not happen. he said. Looking at each of them in turn, they each nodded. They set about dismantling and stowing away yet another campsite, and then rolled back to the small country road. Paul was leading them and they each shared feelings of trepidation. They each knew that each mile that they travelled south east towards Tribune was taking them one mile closer to the destructive chaos that they had so far successfully avoided.

If there had been any pursuit from the enemy convoy, to whom they were indirectly inflicting so much damage they had left it behind them.

Mitch tapped Jeff on the shoulder; they were approaching a road junction.

Take the right turn, she told him.

I’m starving, he told her slowing the bike, know any place we can eat around here? She thought for a moment.

I think there is a place on this road, maybe eight or ten miles further down the road, if I remember clearly, Mitch replied, with less than complete certainty. He nodded and picked up his speed again.

She had been right, Jeff slowed when he saw the small road side cafe up ahead, and they pulled in and parked. They looked at each other, they needed to clean up. They beat the dirt and dust from each others clothes as best they could.

They were in fact both famished, it was just past mid day and neither had eaten since their light supper the previous evening. Jeff squeezed her hand as they walked to a shaded table and before she could sit down, pulled her towards him into a tight hug, kissing her cheek.

What you did today will save a lot of lives, I understand how you feel, but try to remember that ok, he asked her? She looked into his eyes and nodded.

"Jeff I’m ok, really, when I saw how viscous some of the machines in that convoy were I glimpsed the minds of the people that sent them. We have to stop them and if I have to kill some innocent people to possibly save thousands, it is something I must do.

What shall we eat? Mitch asked, changing the subject and focusing on the moment. They sat down to study the menu. Jeff felt reassured with Mitch’s acceptance of the situation. They decided on a bunch of side dishes, cheeses, olives, salad, eggs and a jar of natural Orange Juice. They both tucked into their selection with relish the moment it arrived.

How long will it take us to reach that campsite near Tribune? Jeff asked, as they finished their impromptu feast.

About two hours, Mitch replied after a moments thought. Though it will depend on what lies ahead of us. She pointed out. We have about thirty miles more on this road and then we will be on the main road East to Tribune. Jeff was very aware that Tribune was quite possibly one of the many origins of smoke columns, but said nothing.

Let’s try and clean ourselves up a bit, Jeff suggested pulling her up and heading to the services. It was small, but it had a basin and paper. Jeff began to wipe the grime from Mitch’s face and arms. None of the cuts were very deep, he was relieved to see. Her skirt was in a state, he saw as he began to clean her legs.

Mitch also saw the state of her skirt.

I’ll rinse it, Mitch told him, it will soon dry when we set off." She took it off to rinse, as Jeff cleaned her up, at least a little. She had a nasty cut on her upper thigh and he cleaned it with care.

Mitch dressed, looking much better and began helping Jeff. They left the services looking at least a little better.

I’ll ask about the army’s presence around here.  Jeff, told her, wandering into the cafe to settle their bill.

There is not much army activity around here, the middle aged woman responded to Jeff’s question, handing him his change. But we have heard terrible rumours about Tribune. Something bad is happening there, but no one seems to know why. She added, a cloud of concern appearing on her face. Jeff thanked her and returned to collect Mitch. They were ready and eager to meet up again with the rest of their travelling companions. It was another clear blue sky and hot, very hot. Mitch’s skirt dried in no time.

Corporals Adams and White had made good time. Perhaps more importantly, they had avoided contact with any of the soldiers from the enemy convoy that may or may not have been pursuing them.

Once they turned right onto the main road they felt fairly confident that they were nearly home and dry. Within thirty minutes they began to encounter friendly southerly bound jeeps and slowed to ask one of the drivers the whereabouts of Corporal Phil. About ten miles further up the road the driver had told them. They slowed and stopped as soon as they found him directing three tanks into positions on either side of the road, each within woodland. They excited their jeep to relay their news to their Commander.

Corporal White saluted and greeted his commander, pleased to announce the success of their mission.

That young lady is remarkable, Corporal White added. I’ve never seen anything like it sir. She took out five tanks, three halftrack’s and a Stryker, he said with a look of unbelief. Without one missed shot, he added.

Yes, Corporal Phil agreed, I’ve seen her in action. She really is quite remarkable with a rifle.

Sir we have a plan of the approximate layout of the approaching convoy, Jeff is very concerned about their Abram tanks.

He has good reason to be Corporal. We do not have tanks that can compete with them. Not on a one on one basis, but if we can surprise them, we can beat them. Show me your layout. Corporal White handed it over.

It’s very encouraging news Corporal’s. Corporal Phil congratulated them, after studying the formation. Mitch has single handed, practically halved their heavy artillery. If we can enjoy equal success they will hopefully surrender and we can save unnecessary loss of life. Whilst Corporal Phil privately worried that the enemy make have rotated their formation, the news was good.

Go and get something to eat Corporal’s, you have done well. I’ll send for you if I need more information.    Yes sir, they each replied.  

Phil had identified a total of five positions spread along the southbound road for a total of forty miles, any further south would, he had decided, be too risky. In each of the placements he had positioned tanks together with halftrack’s and half a dozen soldiers equipped with bazookas. He also shared concerns about the Abram’s capability and to a lesser extent the Stryker’s. His strategy was simple. From their hidden vantage points on the hillside they would target with force the enemy’s heavy artillery. They would use what force they had at their disposal in a concentration of firepower at carefully selected targets. The Abram’s were now at the top of their list!

Each position had been carefully chosen and each was on a farm track leading up into the hills. His orders were simple and clear. The gunners were to select a tank, or halftrack, but not to fire until they were sure of a hit. Once that had fired they were then to reverse immediately. This was to remove their vehicles from the inevitable enemy fire their actions would produce. They were then to retreat at maximum speed along the tracks leading away from each of their selected placements. Each placement would be equipped with jeeps, together with drivers for this purpose. The plan was that once they had escaped they would head back to the campsite.

We don’t need any heroics; he had told them before he had sent them out to their positions. Only we need each of you to take out your target, make safe your vehicle and to get the hell out of there. Is that clear and understood, he had asked them. The troops he had selected for this mission had confirmed that they clearly understood their mission and departed to their various positions.

With the news that Corporals Adams and White had brought him he hoped that they could strip the convoy of its heavy artillery with capacity to spare. He would now have to revise their priorities. The Abram’s would now be the primary targets.

The second phase of his operation was quite inventive. They had put together crude, but effective hand voice amplification devices from alloy they had cannibalised from a jeep. He had then positioned soldiers along the hillsides. Corporal Phil’s instruction was again simple. Each of them would at their discretion call their comrades below to surrender. Together with informing the enemy troops that they had been wilfully mislead.

In many respects this was the most dangerous aspect of his overall plan. Corporal Phil had devoted much time to ensuring that they each understood the importance of reading the situation beneath them carefully, before revealing their position. He also advised the most southerly based soldiers that the likelihood of their services being needed was small at best.  That the commanders would almost for sure keep going until they were practically stripped of heavy artillery.

You are only there just in case, he had told them. He then made them repeat three times, what had become the company motto.

Our primary mission is to survive.

Paul led the convoy uneventfully on to the main road but the sight of the columns of smoke in the distance was unnerving. If anything the smoke had intensified. He set a modest speed of fifty miles an hour, as they headed ever closer to whatever was taking place in Tribune. He was not surprised to be ordered to pull over at the first army position they approached.

Paul had all his answers at the ready for the sergeant and he seemed to accept their authenticity.

You cannot enter Tribune, the Sergeant told him.

No I understand that, Paul responded, withdrawing a map from his outrider. One of your colleagues north of here suggested we try this route. He said, passing the map to the Sergeant. He seemed to take reassurance from that fact that one of his colleagues had already questioned them.

Yes, this is probably your best bet, he agreed passing the map back to Paul.  

What exactly is happening over there, Paul asked, pointing towards the smoke?

The people have gone crazy, replied the Sergeant. There is a lot of looting and rioting and the army are trying to contain the situation.

The poor bastard knows nothing, Paul thought to himself.

How many army patrols are we likely to pass until we reach this road? Paul asked pointing to the map.

Quite a few, the Sergeant advised him. The closer you get to Tribune the more you will encounter.

Did you not receive news about our mission? Paul asked him.

Yes we did yesterday, but we are on high alert and have been ordered to stop all East bound traffic.

Maybe you can help us, Paul said reasonably.

We really need to get east of Tribune as soon as possible. There is a major Pylon infrastructure down there near Hagerman. We need to check it out and the sooner we get there, the sooner we can start fixing things. The Sergeant nodded. Can you send a biker ahead of us to gain us free passage up to this point?" Paul again pointed at the road marked on the map that they would turn into.

Yes sir, I can do that, but I cannot guarantee that you will not be pulled over, everyone is a little nervous right now.

Do your best Sergeant.

Yes sir, the Sergeant replied, walking over to one of his bikers to give him his instructions.

One more thing, Paul added as the Sergeant returned. There is a lone biker somewhere behind us, he’s driving the same bike as we are using. He is our head technician, but he got held up fixing some stuff and we really need him back with us ASAP. The sergeant again nodded, returning to the biker with the additional information.

All done sir, he said saluting and good luck. Paul led the convoy back onto the eerily quiet road. I’ll pull into the next Cafe he thought to himself.

Jeff was making good speed, they encountered no army and there was precious little traffic. In less than thirty minutes they were on the main road east.

They both saw the columns of smoke in the distance. I hope the others are ok; Jeff thought to himself upping his speed to eighty. The road was practically empty of traffic. He saw that they were approaching an army outpost ahead. They signalled him to pull over. Jeff produced his ID and handed it over.

A bunch of your colleagues passed by here yesterday, the Sergeant pointed out.

Yes I know, Jeff replied, thinking on his feet, we became separated and I’m trying to catch them up. The Sergeant was satisfied.

Explain your story to the outposts ahead and with luck they will not delay you unduly, he said, waving them off. So far so good, Jeff shouted over his shoulder once the sergeant was out of sight. They were pulled over twice more as they travelled south and on each occasion their story was accepted, they were making good time. The next army outpost did not order him over, but instead saluted him as he slowed.

Paul has passed through here, he shouted at Mitch. They must be ahead of us, with luck we can catch them up!

Paul spotted a sign up ahead, ‘Bell’s Diner, two miles’ and they were soon pulling into the roadside car lot. The smoke seemed much closer. There was a shared relief as they dismounted and stretched as they ambled to the cafe. Ron turned, walking back to his bike.

Brutus, he called over his shoulder to Sandy, whilst fumbling for food and drink in the outrider.

He found what he needed, then saw the bike in the distance and ran to the road waving a bag of dog biscuits in one hand and a water bowl in the other. Brutus did not look impressed, but the bike slowed. It was Jeff and Mitch! The others had turned and ran back to greet them as Jeff parked up his bike. There followed much hugging and kissing from both sides. They were all really pleased and relieved to be safely back together again. Togther they made there way back towards the cafe. There was a deep bark from behind them that caused them to laugh. Ron turned realising he was still holding the bag of dog food and the water bowl! He returned to feed and water Brutus, who wagged his tail in appreciation.

They were each of them, equally anxious to ask questions of each other and in the end Paul put his hands in the air and called them to order.

Let’s get some drinks here and they we can share our stories ok? They quietened down and Jake and Sue disappeared to buy a round of cokes, returning just as Jeff began to share their story.

I’m really pleased, Mike interrupted at one point. We started feeling bad about abandoning the army, the others nodded.

So, Corporal Phil is now commanding a sizable force? Paul asked.

He sure is and if he manages to turn the latest convoy to his cause it will be massive. Jeff pointed out.

What are their chances of success? Ron asked.

I would say excellent, but it will depend upon how effectively they can knock out those Abram tanks. The troops in that convoy must be feeling pretty demoralised by now. First they hit our road block, then the farmers irritated them like wasps and then Corporal Phil caused them some more serious damage. Then, last, but not least Mitch, single handedly destroyed nearly half of their heavy artillery. They all congratulated her. Plus, Jeff continued, Corporal Phil is turning into a damn fine leader. The news was heartening and they each felt uplifted.

Let’s hope our Corporal can turn that convoy with the minimum loss of life. Paul said thoughtfully.

––––––––

The preparations were complete, now came the waiting. Corporal Phil, together with a small squad of ten jeeps had positioned himself just behind the last of the five traps that they had set. He had given orders that should the convoy reach this point they were to turn back and take themselves out of range. He seriously hoped they would not need to.

The most southerly position was made up of two tanks, a halftrack, plus a bazooka squad made up of six men. They watched from their concealed position as the convoy crawled up the road beneath them, they were well hidden. Their orders were not to open fire until the convoy had passed them. Phil wanted to try to prevent a repeat of the tail jeeps retreating back south.

If word got back from this convoy, God only knew what would next come up this road.

The rear was just about beneath them and luckily it was three of the older tanks that between them filled the road. There was one Abram tank, now someway ahead of them, but still within range.

The barrels of the tanks below, were swivelling every which way, they were obviously now wary of the hills they were passing through. The Sergeant in control of the placement discussed tactics with his squad. They needed to take out the Abram and the three older tanks together. The two tanks would both go for the Abram. The halftrack and bazooka squad would concentrate on the three tanks at the rear.

The sergeant waited until the convoy was some thirty yards beyond their position until he gave the order for them to open fire. He meanwhile remained sitting on the tank observing events through his binoculars. The Abram was hit twice and seriously damaged, if not destroyed. It was again hit twice and that did it, it was on fire. At the rear of the convoy the central tank

Was demolished immediately, but the other two, whilst hit were still functioning. The Sergeant saw smoke rising from one of them. Their two tanks managed one more shot at the surviving two tanks.

They were coming under fire! The Bazooka squad only managed a few more rounds before the Sergeant yelled, ‘Retreat’. The two tanks and the halftrack reversed away from the edge of the hill to the shelter of their more secure positions. The soldiers scrambled out of the vehicles and together with the Bazooka squad raced to the three awaiting jeeps.

The hillside they had been occupying was being pounded to destruction, as they sped up the track to safety. They heard the chatter of machine gun fire and the pounding from heavy artillery behind them, but they were safely out of range. They had accomplished their mission, the road was at least partially closed to retreat, the convoy had perhaps two and a half fewer tanks, the remaining two at the very least badly damaged and they had survived!

The convoy was in disarray, they were taking a pounding from an enemy they could not see and had been unable to effectively hit back at. The enlisted men were becoming increasingly aware of the unusual tactics that were being consistently deployed against them. With the exception of the poor bastards in the half tracks and tanks they had suffered almost zero casualties other than cuts and bruises!

The commander of the convoy called a halt and held a hasty tactical meeting. They were down to eight tanks and six half tracks and all they had seen of their enemy was their retreating dust. He decided to change the deployment of what heavy weaponry he still had at his disposal and called up fifty jeeps to lead the convoy and distributed the remaining heavy artillery throughout the rest of the near mile long convoy. The convoy set off in their new formation.

The next two positions that Corporal Phil had set up were within five hundred yards of each other. The plan was to allow the last of the heavy artillery to pass the most southerly position. They would then take out what heavy weaponry they could and that would be the signal for the second position to open fire.

The southern most position was again two tanks, one halftrack and the bazooka squad whilst the second position boasted three tanks, two halftracks, together with the bazooka squad.

Corporal Phil had placed a lot of their available fire power at these two placements.

The convoy had travelled some eight miles before they entered the second trap. The Sergeant of the most southerly post noted that the lone rear tank was damaged. It was travelling in front of maybe thirty jeeps whilst ahead was another tank followed by a halftrack. Further up the convoy were two of the Abram tanks travelling together. He hoped that his comrade’s could deal with them, they were difficult hits for his squad.

He waited until the tanks had passed below their position, and issued the order to fire. His tanks took out both of the enemy tanks cleanly, with their first shots, whilst the bazooka squad destroyed the halftrack and the rear jeep. The road south was now blocked. Retreat! The Sergeant shouted, as a hail of machine gun fire sprayed their position. The tanks reversed into the hillside together with the halftrack and the men tumbled out joining the others scrambling towards the four waiting jeeps and sped up the track that would take them over the hill and into safety.

As soon as the Sergeant in position two heard the tank’s fire from the position to his south he ordered his men to open fire. His three tanks aimed for the Abram’s whilst the halftracks together with the Bazooka squad aimed at the two halftracks below.

The returning hail of machine gun fire from below was fast, fast enough. Both Abram, tanks were badly damaged, as was one of the half tracks, while the other whilst not destroyed was knocked out of action. Retreat, the sergeant shouted as he heard a yell. One of his soldiers on a halftrack had been hit. The tanks and halftracks backed tight up against the hillside and the soldiers tumbled out of their vehicles. The position they had abandoned was being pounded. Rocks and dirt was flying everywhere and they were taking casualties. The Sergeant ordered everyone to take cover, personally helping to take the wounded man behind a jeep. One of his men didn’t make it, as a sizable rock hit him and two others were in trouble. He knew their only hope was that the enemy would tire of pounding the hill and give them a chance to use the jeeps to escape.

The enemy convoy now had only two Abram’s, four older tanks, one of which was