Operation: To The Gates of Hell - AAR

American Recondo Mike Force Team 3 FTL AAR:

Though I walk through the shadow of death, I fear no evil, because I am the baddest M.F. in the valley!!!

This had been the general sense of confidence that the American personnel had during the mission briefing on board the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Reagan. Nonetheless, when you went knocking on the Gates of Hell, you had better be ready to meet the Devil! I don’t think any of us had been ready…

18:00 Zulu (10:00 Uniform) was the H-hour for the Op. The tall grass of LZ Alpha was blasted flat by the rotor wash of waves and waves of UH-60 Blackhawks as they arrived at the insertion point and disgorged their deadly payload of Recondo Mike Force Team 3, SNDF (Scotts National Defense Force), and the Marines contingent.

It had been an awesome show of force, no doubt. But it sure as hell also had given plenty of early warning to the Devil and his legion down below in the valley. Any defending Reds within 15 mile radius of LZ Alpha would have a hard time ignoring the ruckus.

MF team 3 consisted of 4 members; before the end, one of us would not come back from this mission. Our orders were to infiltrate behind enemy lines and demolish a satellite dish farm near a chokepoint en-route to the Reds’ HQ. According to mission intel, demolishing the dish farm would effectively prevent the Reds from calling in re-enforcement.

The Marines had been asked to do what they do best; charging into enemy fire and kick ass and take names. The Marines contingent had been organized into 3 elements: White, Blue, and L.O.S.T. White and Blue were the primary assault elements, and together with the SNDF solders, they would go down to the valley floor, challenge the Reds, and keep the bulk of the Red Star forces engaged and eventually clear the AO (Area of Operation) of any Red Star forces. They would then push through due east to the Red Star HQ deep in the valley and clean out all Red Star insurgency in Scotts Valley area. The L.O.S.T team had been given specific mission orders that were on a need-to-know basis only.

Team 3 would use the distraction created by the Marines and, while avoiding all contacts with the enemy, infiltrate the chokepoint and take out the dish farm. After destroying the dish farm, Team3 was free to engage targets of opportunity on the way back to the rendezvous for extraction.

The plan was perfect when it was drawn up in the air-conditioned briefing room of the mighty aircraft carrier parked in international waters off the coast; but no battle plan ever survives when the bullets starts flying; this time was no exception.

MF Team 3 had chosen to stay clear of the fighting in the valley and instead had skirted the edge of the AO. Bearing south-east, the team stayed high up on the slopes and had to negotiate the treacherous slopes (40 – 60 degrees) all the way from the insertion point to the objective. After approximately 1 hour from the insertion, MF Team 3 had covered about 3/4 of the distance to the objective.

The Marines on the valley floor got the fight they had come looking for. The Reds came out and fought like demons! Horrific firefights had broken out down below on the valley floor, and soon, medic calls were filling the radio comm channels.

Capitalizing on the chaotic situation, MF Team 3 pushed on towards the objective. We were sure that the Reds were having their hands full repelling the Marines, such that they would have left their northern flank unguarded. Unfortunately, the Red’s commander was Machiavellian enough to expect infiltration at northern flank, however unlikely it might have seemed.
He had placed a number of snipers to provide flank security on the slopes to the north of the dish farm, right in between MF Team 3 and its objective.
As stealthy as Team 3 had been, movements attracted the eye, and the Red Star snipers had got eyes-on on the team. Shots were fired, and Team 3 was pinned down in place. We had to decide whether to stay on the current course and try to neutralize the snipers, or break contact, retrograde, and find another way in.

After conferring on the radio with the Marines commander below, we learned that we could not expect any help from the Marines as they were fully engaged. The Team lead decided to break contact and retrograde. The team double-timed its way down to the valley floor and linked up with the Marines pushing along the creek bed. The plan was for Team 3 to break off during the mass push along the creek, and execute a flanking move up the southern ridge to hit the dish farm from its southern flank.

As the American and SNDF forces were rushing down the creek bed towards the chokepoint, they walked right into a classic L-shape ambush. The Reds had set up heavy firepower in front and mowed down the advancing Americans, while the long arm of the L ambush was unleashing withering fire from the high ground up on the southern slopes. Within seconds of the ambush being triggered, Marines were dropping dead and dying. The corpsmen also died trying to save their falling comrades. It was a bloodbath like none I have ever seen before.

It was here that Team 3 lost its #2 man, Bob. Bob had seen that the #4 man, Trump, who was Team 3’s demolition expert, was in direct line of fire from the ambush. Knowing that if Trump died, the mission would be seriously compromised, Bob had pushed Trump out of the way, yelling for his buddy to retreat to safety. He then used his bulk to shield Trump from the murderous fire, and died before hitting the ground with numerous wounds to the head and chest. I will report his selfless act to Command and recommend him for a posthumous Distinguished Service Cross.

The Reds had executed a perfect ambush and had reduced the American forces to 50% of their original numbers.

At this point of the battle, for reasons still unknown to me, American high command had not send in the needed re-enforcement, but had decided to order all American forces and SNDF to break contact with the enemy and retreat to LZ Bravo for extraction.

As the American forces were pulling away from the Forward Area of Battle, a FAC (Forward Air Controller), circling in a F/A-18 D Hornet called in artillery fire missions to cover the American and SNDF retreat. The Reds appeared content that they had been successful in keeping their enemies at the gates, and did not make further effort to pursue the retreating foes and risk more casualties from American artillery barrages.

MF Team 3 members grabbed the harness on Bob’s armor and dragged his lifeless body on the mad dash to LZ Bravo. The UH-60 Blackhawks were waiting at the LZ with the crew chiefs frantically gesticulating for the guys on the ground to hurry up and get aboard. MF Team 3 shared a Blackhawk with a few of the Marines. We could see the anguish on their faces; because unlike us, they had been forced to leave the bodies of their brothers in arms behind at the Gates of Hell.

I have a feeling that this is not yet over… Perhaps, we will come knocking again at the Gates of Hell. But this time, the Devil had better be ready to meet us!

RECONDO! Mission First! We are the hunters, they are the prey!


MARINE DETACHMENT - AAR

The second Marine detachment followed shortly behind the first on their journey towards the "Gates Of Hell". It started out to be a normal day of bloodshed and rivalry between the dirty Reds and the American forces. Contact was minimal as we trekked down the mountain towards somewhat flat land. Bullets were being sprayed but the American forces were moving forward (unknowingly, straight towards the ambush fulfilling the name Gates of Hell). We pushed forward to the buildings and were unexpectedly greeted by diplomats holding a baby in hopes that it would bring peace and resolve between the feuding forces. Alas, they realized that there was no stopping it, and returned to safety before witnessing the ugly sides of war. The American forces found the road but moving up it was tougher than a one-armed man swimming upstream. Every attempt was thwarted by the dammed communists. They had machine-gun blockades and snipers and the American forces could not break through, the death toll rising faster than a service to air missile. We were tired, hungry, and in dire need of ammunition and an air strike. Bullets flew like hornets for the better part of the afternoon. The Americans decided to pull back and regroup, reload and relocate, in order to hit them hard when they least expect it. Send ammo, troops, and heavy artillery. We are going to need it!
-Sgt. Bonesaw



Red Star Elite DMTNT AAR

The Yankee Imperialists entered our airspace with an arrogance that sealed their fate. Black Hawk Helicopters fast roped 4 platoons of American and Marines on to the outskirts of the Valley. The Foliage made it impossible for and artillery or direct fire munitions to be accurate, so the cowardly American had to actually face us without the benefit of their "superior" technology.

Their goal to disrupt our command and control building never came to fruition. We posted 2 platoons of Supernovas recruits and 2 squads of elite forces on the banks of the valley to prevent flanking maneuvers.

The main camp was left as a ghost town. This seemed to confuse the yankee scum into a false sense of security. or a deep sense of impending doom. The Americans crossed the river to the access road leaving only a squad to probe the Northern valley face. We had only the Red Start Elite DMTNT with their Tiger Stripes. Blending into the dead foliage, and downed trees that fell from the artillery barrage we observed their progress from afar. our intelligence reports stated the Americans originated from a task force built around the U.S.S. Reagan.

I watched as the Marine unit carefully traversed the riverbed hugging the deep cut embankment, hoping that they would not be detected. We waited until they were within 30 ft to unleash the small arms fire. we decimated all attempts through the river valley to access our bunker and our RS regulars forced the fight to stay on the road and south valley wall.

One American squad we are suspecting were the Recondo detachment pressed into the Norther wall hoping to flank un-noticed, but were met with accurate sniper fire, leaving them without reference to where the fire was originating from. We watched as one honorable soul placed his person in front of his comrade to shield the onslaught fire, they dragged his tattered remains away from the contact.

eventually the northern face was cleared by the Americans, I was clipped in the shoulder and woke up 20 minutes later as my comrades poured Vodka on my face and made crude jokes about my threshold for blood loss.

The Yankees had an un-contested path to the bunker, but they never returned...they had a 15 minute opening and never exploited our one weakness. They are as weak as they are tactically inept.

The Americans eventually left the valley floor and left a good portion of the dead for retrieval later.

If your going to fight the Devil, you had better bring a bigger pitch fork.

DMTNT Elite Spetsnaz detachment