Read Red Phoenix Burning Online
Authors: Larry Bond
“That’s not your job, Colonel,” Kevin chided. “And in the thick of it, you’d see less than you could from up here.”
Little was stating the obvious. Rhee shot him an annoyed glare, but it subsided quickly. His American colleague was also entirely correct. “You could at least be more sympathetic, Colonel Little.”
“That’s not my job either,” replied Kevin sarcastically. Another loud rumble echoed from the direction of Pyongyang. A large cloud of smoke and flames reached skyward. Something big had just exploded.
“That was one of our helicopter gunships,” lamented Rhee.
Kevin looked through his binoculars toward the city. It was hard to make anything out, but the occasional flash and explosion told him the fighting was still going on strong. “Is it me, or have the North Koreans recently become more stubborn?” he asked.
Rhee nodded his agreement. “Yes, they seem to be more determined to fight now. They’re not running or surrendering like they did earlier.”
“That suggests a good commander is calling the shots.”
“Agreed. Unfortunately for us, he appears to be quite competent. The other corps commanders on both flanks have reported similar stiff resistance.”
“Colonel Rhee!” shouted Guk from the comms tent. “Team Seven Four reports the KPA units are withdrawing, moving back to a second line of prepared positions. The team lead says the troops are withdrawing in good order. They’re not running away.”
“Pass the information on, Lieutenant,” ordered Rhee, shaking his head. “Use the primary frequency. We need to let the lead units know the KPA isn’t done fighting just yet.”
No sooner had Rhee given the order than another round of North Korean artillery began landing on the advancing infantry divisions. And just as before, ROK and US artillery let loose with an intense counter-barrage.
“No, they’re not done fighting yet,” repeated Rhee.
IV Corps Command Observation Post
Pyongyang Koryo Hotel
Tae stood motionless and watched the fighting for hours. His men were putting up a good fight, but with each passing moment, ROK Army units pushed closer and closer to the Taedong River. He knew his men were on the verge of exhaustion, as he could now see imperialist infantry advancing unimpeded from building to building from his observation post some three kilometers away. It was only a matter of time before his units simply collapsed.
To the southeast he could see some of his tanks valiantly engaging South Korean K1A2s. It was pointless; their guns simply couldn’t penetrate the Southern tanks’ advanced armor. One by one, the old Chinese tanks were gunned down. As Tae looked further to the east, he saw what was left of the Tower of the Juche Idea. A monument to the Kim concept of political, economic, and military self-reliance, it had been shattered, just like his country.
Here he was, fighting a losing battle to convince the imperialists that it would be better for them to join forces. Tae needed to ally his forces with those of his state’s former enemies to the south, to fight their former communist allies to the north. He was fighting because he needed the South to help him preserve what was left of his country. The irony couldn’t have been more bitter.
“Comrade General,” interrupted Major Ryeon. “Colonel Mok reports that his units have taken over thirty-three percent casualties and that they are almost out of ammunition. Other commanders have made similar reports of high casualties and low ammunition. Most of our tanks have been destroyed, and those that are left have few shells, if any.”
Tae sighed deeply. They had done all that they could, all that was possible. Now he had to save what was left of his men and hope it had been enough. “Signal all units to retreat as planned. Have the mortar batteries lay down smoke to cover the withdrawal. Tell the engineers to drop the two spans on the Yanggak Bridge.”
Ryeon saluted smartly, then departed at a run to pass on the general’s orders. Soon Tae saw puffs of white smoke bloom on the river’s southern banks. Hundreds of boats and rafts then appeared as the survivors made their way slowly across the Taedong. In the waning twilight, bright orange and yellow bursts of light flickered along the two causeways of the Yanggak Bridge. Through his binoculars, Tae saw that major portions of both had been destroyed. It was now impassable. If the imperialists wanted to cross over the river, they’d have to bring up bridging units. That would take time, and they would be vulnerable—another point in Tae’s favor.
“Sir, all your orders have been carried out,” reported Ryeon.
“Very good, Major.”
The young officer paused; he still found it difficult to question the intent of a general officer. But curiosity finally got the better of him. “Comrade General, what do we do now?”
Tae turned and smiled. “Now we wait, Major Ryeon. We let the Southerners and the Americans take stock of their situation. And give them the opportunity to consider the prospect of taking this city by force, street by street, building by building. Then, in the morning, we’ll present them with another option.”
Chapter 15 – Parley
31 August 2015, 0535 local time
Taedong River Bank
Pyongyang, North Korea
The shadows darted from one mound of rubble to the next, careful not to expose themselves to the light growing slowly in the east. The streets were littered with the remains of buildings, tanks, and soldiers. A pall of smoke from many sources promised a dim, gray day.
The intense battle yesterday had come to an unexpectedly quick end as soon as the surviving KPA units had withdrawn across the Taedong River. Like someone throwing a light switch, the fighting had simply been turned off. And with the exception of an occasional rifle crack, the night had become strangely quiet. It was as if the North Koreans had all disappeared.
From his command post in the hills to the south, Colonel Rhee Han-gil had watched the orderly evacuation of the DPRK troops via a UAV video feed. The KPA soldiers were not running. They took turns firing and moving back, always facing the enemy.
This was no rout, but a well-planned and executed retreat. The commanding general, whoever he was, was a skillful individual. Rhee found himself begrudgingly impressed and worried at the same time.
Along with the other senior officers, he’d expected the North Koreans to mount a hold-at-all costs defense. Instead, the KPA had made a fighting withdrawal, trading space for ROK casualties, while keeping their own forces relatively intact. Whoever was in charge knew how to run a retreat.
With a good commander directing the KPA forces, the fight to take the rest of Pyongyang would be much more costly. Especially as it looked like the last bridge across the Taedong River had just been destroyed.
Rhee and Little were both hunched over the UAV monitor, trying to see just how badly the Yanggak Bridge was damaged. The two colonels feared the worst as they studied the display, desperately wishing for a clearer picture. But there was so much smoke and dust in the air it was impossible to make anything out. Frustrated, Rhee went back to using his night vision binoculars. They weren’t any better. Suddenly, an annoying buzz sounded from the comms tent.
“Colonel,” shouted Guk. “It’s General Kwon on the secure line, sir.”
Rhee hurried back over to the tent and grabbed the encrypted satellite phone. “Colonel Rhee here, sir.”
“Colonel, I want you to head down to the Taedong River and survey the bridges. I need to know if any have even a remote chance of being usable. The UAVs aren’t good enough for a detailed damage assessment. I need close visual inspection, from the ground . . . tonight.”
“Of course, General. We’ll leave immediately.”
“Excellent. And keep your eyes open for potential locations that can support pontoon bridges. We may have to use them if the bridge isn’t an option.” Kwon didn’t sound happy at the idea. The Taedong was a big river. Laying a pontoon bridge under fire from a hostile shore would be slow and costly.
“Yes, sir,” Rhee replied. Then after a short pause he added, “General, if I may ask, how did the other corps do?”
The gruff sigh told Rhee all he needed to know. “Not as well as we had hoped, Colonel. The First Army’s Seventh Corps barely got into the city proper before being bogged down; the same for the Third Army’s Fifth Corps. Your sector is the only one that made its planned goals, but you and I both know why.”
“The river,” answered Rhee, nodding. The KPA troops had evacuated the area just before they blew up the bridges. The ROK troops had gained ground quickly, but, with further progress blocked by the river, it had no value.
“Exactly. We need to get across the Taedong, and quickly.”
“I’m not looking forward to what happens when we do.”
“Yes, Colonel, I know bypassing the city makes more military sense, but there are the political aspects. Taking the city will break the back of the KPA resistance. So find me a way across that river! Kwon out.”
Rhee put the phone down, turned back to Kevin, and queried, “Colonel Little, would you care to join me and my team for a stroll along the Taedong?”
“Sounds like fun,” Kevin answered, straightening up from the UAV station. “When do we leave?”
“Now.”
It had taken the evening and most of the night to reach the riverbank. Now Kevin ran, stooped over, to the remains of a burnt-out building and threw his back up against the charred brickwork. Everywhere he looked, he saw the signs of a pitched battle. The blackened hulks of KPA tanks and shattered bunkers lined the shores of the Taedong River. Unmoving figures in both sides’ uniforms lay in close proximity to the still-smoldering ruins. The wounded had been recovered soon after the fighting had stopped, but they hadn’t had the opportunity to remove the dead.
He saw Rhee hold up his hand, signaling the four men behind him to stop. The South Korean colonel scanned the area ahead with his night vision goggles and then waved them forward. The observation site was less than a hundred meters away. The Yanggak Bridge was the second structure Rhee’s recon team had been assigned to inspect; the first, the Chungsong Bridge to the west, was a total loss. Kevin had little hope this next one would be any better, but they still had to get close enough to assess the damage with their own eyes. Other teams from the Ninth Special Forces Brigade were surveying the four remaining bridges to the northeast. Listening in on their reports to Kwon wasn’t encouraging. Most of the bridges across the Taedong River were unserviceable, wrecked beyond repair. They’d have to be completely rebuilt.
The five men stayed low as they scurried toward their first planned survey site, a small peninsula a couple hundred meters from the bridge. Actually, there were two bridges. The first was a steel-framed railroad bridge, and the second a reinforced concrete, multilane highway span beside it. Either would meet the army’s needs. The railroad bridge was in front, from the team’s viewpoint. Rhee stayed low as he ran along the rocky shoreline. His chosen path kept them close to the water’s edge; he didn’t want to be seen by either friend or foe.
From everything Rhee could see, there wasn’t a hostile soldier in sight. The UAV above them hadn’t seen anyone on or near the shore on Yanggak Island, nearly four hundred meters away. Their portable UAV monitor showed only hotspots from the fires still burning in the destroyed stadium.
But even if there were no enemy soldiers in sight, Rhee was equally concerned about the friendly units nearby. Even though the ROK 25th Infantry Division had been informed his team would be in the area, the colonel suspected the troops would be more than a little trigger-happy after the battle. And there were always a few who never got the word. As the division’s defensive perimeter was just a mere eighty meters away, he felt it prudent to stay out of sight. He didn’t want to risk being fired at by friendly units.
As the group approached the peninsula, Kevin saw the mound they had spotted in the satellite imagery rising up out of the water. It was actually a pile of gravel, stored there temporarily for the concrete plant a couple hundred meters to the west. The gravel was dumped in a loose “L” shape, giving them cover from the friendly forces to the south. They had also chosen the mound because it was a few meters taller than either bridge’s deck. Crawling up the nine-meter rise of loose aggregate proved to be a bit of a workout, but once at the crest, they had a good view of both bridges—well, at least the southern part.
The Yanggak Bridge had two separate sections. They could see the spans that reached from the southern shore to the island. A second set of bridges linked the island to the rest of Pyongyang, but they were hidden behind the island itself.
Rhee pulled out his night vision binoculars and began a sweep, while Kevin and the other team members assembled a laser rangefinder with an integral GPS receiver. The equipment would take the exact measurements needed to construct a detailed computer rendering of the railroad and highway portions of the bridge.
“No contacts,” Rhee reported.
Kevin was already scanning the closest structure. He sighed heavily; the railroad bridge was not an option. “Rhee, the four center spans on the railroad bridge are completely destroyed—gone. We can cross that one off our list.”
“What about the highway bridge?” asked the Korean colonel, a note of irritation in his voice.
“Looking now,” Kevin replied. From this vantage point, they had a decent, but not unobstructed view of the highway bridge. Fortunately, it was just a little taller, allowing Kevin to see the spans through the railroad bridge’s steel framework. What he saw was more encouraging. “It looks like they concentrated their explosives on the center two spans. The other four look untouched.”
“What’s their condition?” requested Rhee as he continued his safety scan.
“I can’t tell for certain, but they’re not completely dropped. I can still see some intact pavement. They’re definitely damaged; I just can’t say how badly from here. We should be able to get a better view from the second survey site.”
“Understood,” said Rhee, then briefly turning his head toward his team demanded, “Corporal, status on the measurements.”
“Give us two more minutes and we’ll be done with the railroad bridge, sir. We’ll have to do the measurements on the highway bridge from site two.”
Before Rhee could acknowledge the report, Little interrupted with a whispered, “What the hell is that?”
“Where?” shot back Rhee.
“Straight across the river. Just up the hill from the construction site, on the shoreline.”
Rhee quickly repositioned his night vision binoculars and saw two, then four very bright heat sources. They were moving slowly down the hill. When he lowered the binoculars, he could see them as well—bright pinpoints that left afterimages. “Flares?” he murmured incredulously.
“That’s what they look like to me, too. But why would anyone want to use flares, especially after a large battle?”
“Perhaps because they want to be seen,” Rhee remarked dryly.
Kevin rolled his eyes. “Obviously, Colonel. But
why
do they want to be seen?”
Rhee shrugged; he didn’t have a good answer for that. Both men watched the bright orbs as they moved steadily toward the shoreline.
“It looks like they’re headed down to the river,” observed Kevin.
Suddenly, his radio headset crackled to life. “X-Ray Two Romeo Zero One, this is Alpha Three Sierra Two Seven. UAV holds multiple contacts approaching the shore of Yanggak Island. Contacts appear to be heading for the dock. Over.”
“Alpha Three Sierra Two Seven, this is X-Ray Two Romeo Zero One, we have a visual on contacts as well. Do you have an estimate on their numbers? Over.”
Rhee motioned for the portable display; he wanted to see the UAV video feed himself.
“Can’t tell for certain. The contacts appear to be using flares. They’re partially blinding the UAV’s IR sensor. Estimate six to eight individuals.”
Rhee and Kevin looked at the small screen. Shimmering balls of light filled the display. Fleeting images, no more than shadows, were obviously people, but it was impossible to see how many.
One thing was certain: the procession was heading for the makeshift pier used by the construction company. A small motorboat was tied to the dock.
When the group carrying the flares finally reached the dock, two of the lights appeared to get on the boat, while the other two stayed put and started waving in the air. Rhee watched as the boat pulled away from the dock, swung its bow around, and headed toward the south bank—toward them. Puzzled, Little looked over to see his friend was just as confused. What they were seeing just didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Rhee shook his head and keyed his mike. “Alpha Three Sierra Two Seven, this is X-Ray Two Romeo Zero One. The boat has left the dock and is moving toward the south bank. Can you give me an estimated landing position?”
“X-Ray Two Romeo Zero One, this is Alpha Three Sierra Two Seven. Our best guess is that it is heading to the concrete plant—one hundred eighty meters to your southwest.”
“Roger. Inform General Kwon we are moving to intercept,” announced Rhee as he signaled his men. They had already packed up the rangefinder and laptop and were ready to move out. “Gentlemen, it looks like we’ll be having visitors. We don’t know their intent, but it’s clear they want us to see them. Therefore, we will exercise restraint. Do not fire unless you see a clear and immediate danger to the team, understood?”
“Yes, sir!” they responded.
“All right then, let’s go see what this is all about.”
Tae emerged from the wrecked administrative building with Major Ryeon at his side; four Reconnaissance Bureau soldiers followed close behind them. Each of the special operations commandos held an emergency signal flare high in the air. As they marched across the courtyard, General Tae got his first close look at the ruined Yanggakdo Stadium some fifty meters to his left. In the growing light, he could see that it had been completely devastated by ROK and American artillery. He had to respect the enemy’s capabilities; he was also pleased that his assessment had been correct. His rather unusual orders had saved the lives of many of his rocket artillery troops. Tae’s demonstrated concern for his men’s well-being had rippled through the ranks like wildfire. His behavior was unlike any North Korean general, and because of that, he enjoyed the soldiers’ complete loyalty. Should his plan succeed, he would need it.
Taking up a diamond formation with Tae and Ryeon in the middle, the six men headed down to a dock and a small motorboat. Uneasy with being out in the open, Ryeon fidgeted as they walked, constantly looking skyward.
“Calm yourself, Major,” admonished Tae. “I’m quite certain their unmanned vehicles saw us the moment we left the building. If they wanted us dead, we wouldn’t have gotten ten meters.”
“Yes, Comrade General,” mumbled an unconvinced Ryeon. The young major was still struggling with his general’s unorthodox tactics. They deviated from everything Ryeon had been taught. When the general described how they would use flares during their walk to the construction dock, Ryeon briefly considered that his superior had lost his mind.