Larry Bond - Vortex

The patrol was walking southeast, toward TIali, when they came over a small rise and saw the village ahead. It lay nestled on a steep hillside, as if to keep the flatter land clear for farming. Fields of maize surrounded the neat thatched huts, and Jeff felt almost at home as he walked toward the village. It made him feel closer to his unknown ancestors….

JANUARY I -TLALl

Hawkins awoke with a start. Even in relatively safe quarters, a part of him always was on edge. His hand was halfway extended toward a pistol nearby when he saw it was Griffith leaning over him.

Relaxing, he glanced at his watch. It was four in the mo ming His body was still sore from two days’ march, and Hawkins said, “This had better be good, Mike.”

“It is, Captain, sir. Very, very good.” Griffith’s exuberant mood intrigued Hawkins, and the officer quickly rose and dressed, then stepped out into the cool darkness.

A small fire was burning in an open space between the huts, and Jeff saw several figures crouched around it, including George Nconganwe. He and

Dworski and Betalizu were all speaking in low voices. He could hear the lieutenant telling the Xhosa about growing up in a Polish neighborhood in Philadelphia.

Nconganwe greeted Jeff and said, “I wanted to bring this information myself. I do not understand it all, but the man who passed it to me said that your people would understand. “

Jeff sat down next to the fire.

“Thank you for bringing this information.

I am sure it will be very useful.”

“I am supposed to tell you that the surveillance radar covering Ladysmith has just broken down. Its ‘transmit-receive relay’ has failed, and they are having difficulty obtaining another. They continue to ‘radiate,” but they cannot see anything on the radar screen. I know the man who overheard this. The Boers did not think he would understand.

“Additionally, some of the garrison was seen leaving town, moving north in trucks.”

Jeff felt his chest tighten a little and fill with excitement. This might be the big break the Allies needed. Ladysmith was a strategic town past the Drakensberg Mountains. If its defenses were weakened .

:1 *

Nconganwe continued, You are helping to free South Africa. The Xhosa remember their friends.” He scowled.

“The Zulu may not be our ffiends, but as long as they are your allies, we will be their allies as well.”

Jeff’s excitement was now mixed with relief, and a little hope.

“I will earn the Xhosa’s friendship, I promise. This is very valuable information,

George. The Allies will be grateful, and it may save many lives.”

“Not Boer lives, I hope.” Nconganwe grinned, then left. He had many kilometers to go before dawn.

Dworski and Griffith looked at him. Their smiles were of frank admiration and of those sharing good news.

“Get me a runner,” Hawkins ordered.

“I have to send a message to Mantizima.

Then we’ll go over to the communications hut. I have another message to send.”

USS MOUNT WHITNEY, IN DURBAN HARBOR

Craig and his staff examined the map of Natal. Ladysmith was an old town, with a history of past battles. It lay along National Route 3, the route picked by Craig and his forces as the best path of advance through the mountains.

Best was a relative term, though. They had lost lives and time fighting through those passes. At times, Craig had wondered if they would lose the campaign here. Taking Ladysmith could change all that.

Ladysmith lay beyond the mountains, in the low foothills on the western side. Beyond the town, the country changed to the veld, open country perfect for mobile warfare,

It was also the supply center for the South African forces in the area and occupied an excellent blocking position. The South Africans had kept it well garrisoned, with a strong airdefense network.

Part of that network was an air surveillance radar. Parked on any of the hills surrounding the town, it gave early warning of any enemy approach.

Jet fighters had attacked it several times, with little effect. Like many modern tactical radars, it was mobile and could move quickly from place to place. It couldn’t radiate on the move, but each attacker would find it in a different place. Now, it appeared the South Africans were running a bluff.

Taking Ladysmith would change the Drakensberg Mountains from a South

African fortress into a prison.

Craig had already started planning the assault on Ladysmith, but that had been from the south, up the highway. He’d thought of it as their graduation exercise, the last battle before the breakout. Now, if they could take the town by storm, it would cut a week off the campaign and maybe win the race for Pretoria.

Normally, sending helicopters into an established airdefense network was military idiocy. The air defenses that could engage a jet fighter made short work of the “slow movers.” If that radar was down, though, a fastmoving assault force could appear and attack before the defenders knew they were there.

Craig turned to the divisional commanders assembled before him.

“Greg, how much of your 101st is unloaded?”

“One brigade and one aviation battalion, sir. Elements of the second brigade are being off-loaded now.” The demolitions in Durban’s harbor still allowed only a few ships to unload at once. Engineers were working to clear the obstructions, but progress was measured by the week, not the day.

The 101st Air Assault division used helicopters to move its men, which paradoxically made it hard to move from place to place. Aircraft were light, but took up a lot of room, and thus required many ships to carry them. The division’s Aviation Group could lift an entire brigade at once.

Even the forces already landed had a lot of men and immense firepower.

The combined formation, about a third of the 101 st’s strength, could deploy over ninety troop-carrying helicopters carrying twenty-five hundred men. The vulnerable troop carriers would be screened by Kiowa scout and Apache attack helicopters.

Craig couldn’t wait for the other two brigades and didn’t think it would be necessary, if they moved fast. The South Africans were moving units out of Ladysmith, sending them north. Those troops were probably headed for Pretoria and the Cubans. More importantly, it told him what the enemy was thinking. The other side expected him to be bogged down in the mountains for some time to come. They were wrong.

“Greg, I want you to land at Ladysmith tomorrow at dawn.” The general’s surprise and concern were mirrored on his face.

“Take everything you can scrape together, but don’t wait an extra minute for gear from the ships.”

The general nodded, and Craig said, “Do it however you have to, but take and hold Ladysmith until the ground forces can link up.”

The 101st’s commander, a lean, tanned soldier, saluted and said, “In that case, sir, I hope you’ll excuse me. We’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”

Craig returned the salute.

“Thanks, Greg. We’re trading your steep for lives and time. Make it count.”

JANUARY 2-OUTSIDE DURBAN

The 101 st Air Assault division was based just to the north of the city.

Space was at a premium along the coastal plain, but a helicopter didn’t need a lot of room to take off.

Part of a two-lane asphalt road had been turned into a runway, while fields and shacks on either side had been bulldozed flat to make way for rows of sand and green helicopters. The Africans displaced by this had wisely been housed in some of the prefab accommodations brought along for the division.

“Camp Zulu” was growing rapidly, with the engineers busily making plans for water and electrical utilities, security fences, and the other things that kept a military community running. They were very distressed when they were told to drop everything and help load stores onto the division’s sole operational brigade.