110: Chapter 107 Ahvaz's Reconnaissance

8:30 PM, Basra Urban Area.

Rajai's second echelon had already penetrated two kilometers into the urban area.

The streets of Basra were narrow and winding, flanked by low brick and stone buildings. There were no pedestrians on the road—the residents had all hidden in their houses after hearing the gunfire.

"The first intersection is ahead," a scout reported. "The Iraqis have set up a checkpoint at the intersection, about twenty men."

"Take it out."

A platoon of soldiers flanked them from the alleys on both sides. Two RPG rounds hit the checkpoint's sandbag fortifications, and then the infantry rushed up, clearing the remaining resistance with assault rifles and grenades.

Twenty minutes later, the first intersection was under control.

Rajai did not stop, continuing to advance toward the second intersection.

But on the way to the second intersection, they ran into trouble.

A T-72 Tank suddenly charged out from a side road. Its turret turned toward the Iranians, and the 125mm main gun let out a deafening roar. The shell hit the second floor of a building, and the entire wall collapsed with a crash, sending bricks and dust flying everywhere.

"Tank! There's a tank!"

The soldiers scattered for cover. An anti-tank team rushed out from a roadside house, carrying a MILAN missile launcher and aiming it at the T-72 Tank.

But the distance was too close—less than fifty meters. The minimum firing range of a MILAN missile is seventy-five meters.

"RPG! Use the RPG!"

A soldier pulled a tandem-charge RPG warhead from an ammunition box, loaded the launcher, and fired at the side of the T-72 Tank from a distance of thirty meters.

The warhead hit the T-72 Tank's side skirts, penetrated the reactive armor and main armor, and exploded inside the vehicle. A muffled boom came from inside the tank, the hatch on the turret was blown off, and thick smoke billowed from the opening.

No one crawled out from inside.

"Fatima's improved RPG works!" the anti-tank team leader shouted excitedly.

But Rajai had no time for joy. He knew that one T-72 Tank meant there were more nearby. The Iraqis were starting to commit their armored forces into the urban area.

"Your Highness," Rajai picked up the radio, "we've encountered Iraqi armored units in the urban area. Requesting air support."

There was five seconds of silence from the Ahvaz side.

Then Reza's voice came through: "No air support. The Iraqi anti-air fire is too strong; our planes can't enter the airspace over the city."

"Then how am I supposed to deal with their tanks?"

"Use the city against them. Basra's streets are narrow, and it's difficult for tanks to turn. Lure them into narrow streets, then use RPGs from the buildings on both sides to hit their top armor. The top armor is the thinnest—the T-72's top is only forty millimeters; a single tandem-charge RPG will punch right through."

After listening, Rajai said to the battalion commander beside him: "Did you hear that? All anti-tank teams, occupy the second and third floors of the buildings along the street. When the tanks come, hit them from above."

10:00 PM, Basra Southern Military District Headquarters.

Lieutenant General Shangshale finally figured out the situation—but it was already too late.

The Iranians weren't attacking from the south; they had come in from the west. And most of his forces were in the south.

"Recall two battalions from the south to plug the breakthrough in the west!"

"General, the two battalions in the south are currently engaged with the Iranian feint forces. If we withdraw them now, the south will be empty."

"So what if the south is empty? Their main force has already come in from the west! What's the point of the south anymore?"

The staff officer hesitated for a moment and then executed the order.

But redeployment took time. Moving from the south to the west via urban roads would take at least an hour. During that hour, Rajai's troops had already controlled the second intersection and were advancing toward the third.

11:15 PM, Basra Urban Area.

The battle for the third intersection lasted forty-five minutes.

The Iraqis had deployed heavy forces at this intersection—an infantry company, plus three T-72 Tanks and two BMP-1 infantry fighting vehicles. They used the tanks to block the intersection, and the infantry set up crossfire in the buildings on both sides.

Rajai didn't charge blindly. He had three anti-tank teams flank from three directions, climb the buildings on both sides of the intersection, and fire from the roofs at the tops of the tanks.

The first T-72 Tank was hit in the top armor by an RPG fired from a third-floor window; the ammunition detonated, and the turret flew into the sky.

The driver of the second T-72 Tank tried to reverse and escape, but the narrow street didn't allow him to turn. A MILAN missile hit his engine compartment from two hundred meters away, and the tank burst into flames.

The crew of the third T-72 Tank saw the first two destroyed and simply abandoned the vehicle and fled.

Three T-72 Tanks, dealt with in fifteen minutes.

The Iraqi infantry lost their armored cover, their morale collapsed, and they began to retreat toward the city center.

"Third intersection controlled," Rajai reported to Reza.

"Good," Reza said. "Now, Basra has been cut in half. The Iraqis in the north and the Iraqis in the south have lost contact."

"The next step?"

"Hold the three intersections; do not continue to push deeper. When dawn comes, I will press the 3rd Division down from the north. The Iraqis will be caught in the middle; they will either surrender or be annihilated."

February 21, 1:00 AM, Ahvaz.

Reza had been standing in the operations room for twenty-one hours straight without sitting down.

His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were parched, but his mind remained highly focused.

"Unit reports."

"Rajai's 2nd Division has controlled three key intersections from west to central Basra. Casualties: 162 killed, 341 wounded. Destroyed nine Iraqi tanks and six armored vehicles."

"Sadiq's 1st Division has completed defensive deployment on the Fao Peninsula. The Iraqis have not launched a counterattack."

"Rezai's 3rd Brigade has finished mopping up the Fao Peninsula and is massing toward Basra."

"The 3rd Division conducting the feint in the north reports: Iraqi defenders in the north have begun to withdraw toward the city center."

After listening, Reza walked to the map.

Basra had been cut in half. There were about 20,000 Iraqis in the north and about 15,000 in the south. The link between the two parts had been severed by Rajai's troops.

But a garrison of 35,000 was still a massive number. If they organized an effective counterattack, Rajai's 6,000 men might not be able to hold those three intersections.

"Karimi, what about the reinforcements from Baghdad?"

"A brigade of the Republican Guard has set out from Baghdad and is expected to arrive north of Basra tomorrow afternoon."

"And Rezai's ambush force?"

"They have finished deploying along the reinforcement route. Two thousand men, equipped with MILAN missiles and Anti-tank mines."

"Is it enough?"

"They can't stop them, but they can hold them up. Delaying them for twenty-four hours won't be a problem."

Reza nodded.

"Twenty-four hours," he said. "Within twenty-four hours, Basra must be resolved."

He took out that deep blue notebook and wrote a line on the latest page:

"Fao has fallen, Basra is cut in half. Enemy garrison 35,000, our forces 40,000. Republican Guard on the way, twenty-four hours left. Enough."

He closed the notebook and picked up the microphone.

"Attention all units, this is General Headquarters. At dawn, full-scale offensive."