Things quieted down a bit in the afternoon. There wasn't even much artillery and the contrast was startling. Then, H hour arrived and the attack was on again. Every day, every hour-attack!
The Task Force moved off down the narrow icy, road, tanks coughing into the cold with 'tracks barking along behind. Small arms opened up at once, but they quieted down right away when the tankers began to reply. The force kept moving down the road. It wasn't too strong a force then, for it had been badly chewed up the day before, and the day before that. They rounded a bend in the road and churned down a straight stretch, lined with ice covered trees. As the last of the tanks came around that bend there was a sharp report, the driving whistle of an AP, and that last tank was finished. All hell broke loose then, for the tankers were on a narrow road with no room to maneuver around. The 88s came in from all angles. They had those tanks sitting there like ducks on a pond. Now the artillery started to come in, and the mortars, all in those trees above the tanks. There was a good choice. Stay in the tanks and sweat out the APs, or climb out and dodge the tree bursts.