Lost Sight - NATO-Russia Conflict 2018

Colonel Thornton

November 1st, 2018

Constanta, Romania

 

When US Marine Colonel William Booker Thornton, commander of the infantry battalions of the Marines of RCT-5, codenamed ‘Task Force Harlequin’, stepped on the ramp of an Army CH-47. As he did, he saw that his men were up and ready. They were paraded in platoons. Rifles in their arms and packs on their backs, the Marines marched up the ramps and sat tightly in the net seats within the Chinooks. Colonel Thornton, the principal officer he was, didn’t sit at the inside-end of the Chinook. Instead, he sat at the seat closest to the ramp, an M4 Carbine in between his legs. The loadmaster looked at the ground crewman that directed the takeoff, a Romanian airman, and he gave a thumbs up. Slowly, the double-engine helicopter lifted up from the ground and turned. Then, as the colonel looked at the watch-compass on his wrist, he noticed the helicopter was going northwest towards the hill-city of Targu Mures, where the bulk of Romanian paratroopers had been concentrated in defending the Andrescu Line. “The Pivot of Allied Defense,” Thornton said to himself.

 The Siege of Targu Mures had been going on for weeks and the defending troops were currently very short on manpower, material, and ammunition. Task Force Harlequin provided just that. Task Force Harlequin was the infantry element of RCT-5, tasked with being sent first along with the numerous American airpower and helicopter support to Targu Mures to actively support the winding down Romanian troops defending the hill-city.

Before being a colonel of the newly-formed Task Force, Colonel William B. Thornton was the decorated battle commander of the 2/5 Marines, and many Marines from the 2/5 recognized him even from a mile away. He was tall, straight-backed, well-built and he was competent. He knew how things were supposed to be done, and he wouldn’t want some gung-ho sonofabitch leading his Marines.

The thing is, Colonel Thornton didn’t come from Annapolis and so he had a lot of people who didn’t quite like him. He came from Princeton’s Navy ROTC Program, and not a lot of Princeton guys found themselves up in places similar to his position. The helicopter lifted, and it flew. With the helicopter already on an easy path now, 2nd Battalion CO Major John Eldridge, spoke to him. Major Eldridge was previously the Executive Officer of 2nd Battalion 5th Marines, but thanks to the sudden promotion of his Commanding Officer, which was Thornton himself, the Corps had no time and no good-enough colonels who was familiar with 2/5 Marines to step in his boots. They didn’t have the time, nor the formalities, to promote Major Eldridge properly, so he remained a major, although senior to Major Winters (sitting next to him) who was the current Company XO and previously Battalion S-3.

“Did General Moore call in again, sir?” asked Major Eldridge. His helmet was on his lap, as for Marine Corps regulation that indoors Marines were allowed to take off their headcovers, unless being given a special situation. Being in a helicopter tens of miles away from the combat area was not a special situation, and before they’ve reached as far as the enemy could give effect to them, Major Eldridge would relax it. Eldridge was a relaxed man, and saw that Marines fought with practicality. Major Winters on the other hand, saw that Marines were formed through strict discipline.

“Negative, John.” Said the colonel. He also had his helmet off. His subdued black colonel eagle was pinned neatly on his collar, and, like the green uniform he wore, the pins were new. “The general seems busy feasting with the Romanians and the Army down at Constanta. Although I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like it.” He said. Major-General Thomas Sharp was the commander of the Marine Expeditionary Force in Romania. A Division – which meant three RCTs – was being maneuvered across Romania to where they were deemed fit. Thomas Sharp was the field general type, always going to the ground and leading from the ground as well. He didn’t enjoy comfortable, cushioned chairs in a fancy renaissance dining hall while his subordinants were getting shot at by goddamned Ivan.

“Then the plan stays the same?”

“As far as I’m concerned no American sits at Targu Mures. Only Romanians. I’m supposed to meet with General Posticoglu and he will put us somewhere he needs. Either way, we will be ultimately autonomous. The most important thing in our battle is our air. Without the Rotary or Fixed Wing Marine squadrons I doubt we would last two weeks in that mess.”

Marine F-35s and F/A-18s were currently patrolling the skies around Targu Mures, firing on Russian supply lines while the Navy and Air Force aircraft wrestled Russian Sukhois and MiGs for air superiority. Colonel Thornton knew a lot of things in conventional warfare. One of them was the one who had the air, had the ground.