Soldiers and Marines Saga, page 47
****** General Roberts
According to the briefing I received when I got back from visiting the divisions in front of Hamburg, the Russians and East Germans moved so fast initially that it appears our troops were forced to retreat before they can blow some of the southernmost West German bridges over the Elbe River. The headquarters staff is concerned.
Klausen and I are elated at the news and trying not to show it. And I think I may have figured out Otto, at least a little: He’s a nationalist and wants to beat the hell out of the Russians and reunite Germany. Works for me.
The headquarters staff is particularly distressed that the special demolition teams Klausen himself personally assigned to blow some of the bridges over the Elbe and Weser Rivers have all somehow failed. At one bridge they apparently ran off as the East Germans arrived and left the explosives in place but unused.
It took some convincing and a direct order by their German corps commander before the well-meaning captain and two lieutenants in charge of the Northern Army Group’s bridge-blowing engineers understood what they were to do and were willing to leave the bridges up. Now let’s hope Ivanov takes the bait and uses the damn things.
According to the briefer we’re listening to, an immaculate British lieutenant colonel with snaggly teeth, NSA reports the East Germans and Russians are elated about capturing the bridges intact and have proudly reported taking them to Ivanov’s headquarters at Magdeburg. They are right to be pleased the British colonel reports morosely. It means they can more easily bring supplies and reinforcements in from the northern part of East Germany to support their move towards Hannover and Frankfurt.
Ivanov’s enthusiasm about taking the bridges reminds me of the Allies taking the Remagen Bridge in the big war. Big difference, though. We want the Russians and East Germans to take those bridges and move their troops over them; the Germans didn’t want the Remagen Bridge taken and shot the officers who let it happen.
According to our briefers, the Russians and East Germans are taking no chances with their newly captured bridges. They are bringing in mobile anti-aircraft guns and SAM batteries to protect them.
Hmm. Maybe I should talk to Macefield about a radar suppression attack on the SAMs at the bridges to reinforce the idea that we did not leave them up deliberately? Nah. They might hit the bridges.
******
Our nine PM staff briefing was followed by an hour and a half of two-minute call-in reports from the German and American field grade “inspectors” systematically visiting our frontline battalions. It’s early days and the reports are generally optimistic and positive despite the heavy casualties some of our units are taking.
One particular report catches my attention. A Major Ryan is effusive in his praise of a small force of American tankers from the Nickle-Dime and some German grenadiers and skirmishers. The three units and their officers, all lieutenants it appears, apparently worked together and inflicted heavy losses on a rather substantial Russian armor and infantry attack. Stopped it cold according to the inspector.
“Get us more details,” I told him. Then, looking over at Klausen with a questioning look, I ordered the immediate promotion of the three lieutenants to captain and the immediate award of a Silver Star to the American. And to the two Germans”… “Cross of Honor,” Klausen adds with a satisfied nod.
At the end of presentation I tasked General Jones, Buster Jones, the commander of the inspectors, to have his men bring accomplishments to our attention as well as problems and to make sure any battlefield promotions and decorations that are awarded are immediately effective.
I should have made that clear at the beginning.
******
About 2230, after the 2100 briefing and a quick and shivering cold water shower without soap in what apparently used to be some kind of shabby basement exercise room, Damn that’s cold, I pulled on a clean pair of shorts and battledress. Then I called Dick Spelling to prepare for a 2345 conference call with the President and National Security Council. He and the President will be attending the meeting from the White House basement shelter in person; the Vice President and the various Secretaries will, as usual, be conferenced in from their secure locations.
Dick and I spent almost an hour exchanging information and status updates on everything from the latest NSA intelligence to the expected arrival times of the resupply convoys and the navy carriers. Much of our discussion has to do with something that neither Klausen nor I want to discuss at the periodic Presidential and Chancellor briefings—the need to keep close track of the Warsaw Pact units still on the East German side of the Elbe and Weser and the traffic on the bridges over those rivers that we allowed them to capture intact.
I don’t trust those people not to leak our plans, particularly the Secretary of State.
“Please task NSA to keep at least one satellite constantly monitoring those bridges and send traffic reports to you every thirty minutes,” I request of Dick. “Same for the East German and Russian armor in the kasernes at Schwerin, Wisnar, and Rostock.”
Only when they start moving will we start staging our ferries and moving our planes and troops. Probably won’t happen for a week or more.
We also discuss this morning’s East German probe of “Chelsea Blue,” our armor-filled forest fortress on the border. Several of our sentries are missing so the East Germans apparently withdrew with prisoners. The East Germans are by-passing Chelsea Blue, at least for now. So far so good.
Dick then really shook me up and had me swearing in outrage—by reporting that the Naval Operations staff have gotten wind of a possible seaborne invasion and are openly discussing it and expressing concerns about it. Shit. This is dangerous. It almost certainly means there is a Security Council leak or some kind of intelligence penetration.
“How do you know that? Yeah, how does he know that?
“Because about an hour ago Admiral Dunby asked me to put it on the agenda for the next Security Council meeting. I asked Jake why and he told me his staff is asking questions and expressing concerns.”
“Shit. That means there has been a security breach or penetration at the National Security Council level and Dunby’s so damn dumb he doesn’t recognize that a breach has occurred.”
“Yeah, I know,” Spelling said. “On the other hand, maybe Jake did recognize it, knows it couldn’t have been him, and wants to call our attention to a navy problem since, if he didn’t leak it, his staff could only have gotten it from one of the Secretaries.”
“Yeah, that could be,” I agreed. “In which case he’s real smart and wants to get it out without pointing a finger at the Secretary of Defense or the Navy Secretary and appearing disloyal.”
“At the very least,” I suggested to Dick, “you’ve got to inform the President, before the meeting, that there are certain things we cannot discuss because there appears to be a high level security breach or penetration.”
“Way ahead of ya, Guns. I already talked to the President and I’m headed over there now. I expect the President is going to call you about it. He’s already rescheduled the Security Council meeting and the FBI is on its way to visit Admiral Dunby and the Secretaries of Defense and the Navy.
Sure enough. About thirty minutes later the President called.
“Good evening, General. I believe you are aware as to why I am calling you and the National Security Council meeting has been temporarily delayed?”
“Yes sir. I am. And I must say I am extremely concerned.”
“Is it really that important?”
“Yes Sir, it certainly is. We could lose the war if it causes Ivanov to put troops and armor in place to challenge an important operation we are about to launch. Worse, if that’s possible. I could mean our other plans and operations have been compromised as well.”
“Do either you or your staff see any evidence of that? General Roberts?”
“No Mr. President, we do not. There is no indication at all. So hopefully it is an accidental leak and the response of the Navy is just a dumb effort to complain because they want to be involved, an inter-service rivalry kind of thing that may not leak out.” My God, let’s hope so. If it gets out we really could lose the damn war.
“Perhaps,” I suggest to the President, “Admiral Dunby and the Navy Secretary could quietly and casually let it be known to their senior staff that they’ve looked into it and there are absolutely no plans for the American Navy or our Marines to be involved in a seaborne invasion of any kind.”
That’s true. If it occurs it will be an all-German affair.
“They would be telling the truth, Mr. President. It is an absolute fact that our navy and Marines are not in any way involved in such an operation. But please order them not to mention or even suggest that there’s going to be a German landing.” Well it won’t be exactly all German; we’re providing the beachmasters.
Then, mindful of the raids the swimmers are making tonight against the Polish and Austrian railroad bridges, I took the opportunity to ask the President to again reach out to the Polish and Austrian governments and again assure them that we will more than make good on any damage we might inadvertently cause. But I sure as hell don’t explain why.
Finally, the President brought up the question of the supplies and reinforcements we’ve been airlifting in. It seems he is being asked by the press and some politicians when the airlines will start getting their planes back.
“It will be quite a while before we’ll be able to release them, Mr. President. It is virtually certain that we will need them for the duration of the war as well as after it ends to bring home our troops.”
******
Supplies and reinforcements are a big concern. Tonight the first convoy from the East Coast arrives in Rotterdam. It sailed just before the invasion began and then detoured far to the south when the war started. Despite the detour, yesterday the Warsaw Pact’s subs apparently got several container ships and a destroyer, the USS Bradley Stevens. John Peavy is still waiting for a report on what we lost.
The convoy is important because, among other things, it contains five of the Atlantic Fleet’s LSTs and a couple of big car carriers, all loaded to the gills with Marine armor and heavy equipment from Parris Island.
I need to remember to ask John how we are doing with the Russian submarine fleet. I didn’t see the latest lists at the last briefing. I hope that’s just a reporting fuckup and not the navy trying to cover up a problem.
****** Feldwebel Thomas Schulter
Schulter and his team left their second camp at four in the morning and reached their base camp by noon. They ate a high energy meal of protein bars and candy and then hoist their ninety-pound packs of shaped explosive charges and begin walking briskly through the quiet forest towards their objective, a double track railroad bridge and the service road bridge that runs immediately alongside it and shares some of its supports.
As dusk approached, and they got closer and closer to the two side by side bridges, they could see the railroad tracks in the distance and the trains that are periodically running along them. Once, about an hour after sundown while they are walking in the moonlight, they saw lights flickering between the trees from a vehicle moving along the service road that runs along the tracks.
Schulter did not want to risk being seen so they cached their explosives about two hundred meters from the first bridge, the railroad bridge and their primary target, when he decided they had carried them close enough. Then they carefully moved forward through the trees and settled down to watch the bridges. I’m not walking us into an ambush.
“Nothing,” whispered Wettering four hours later as he looked over at Jahn kneeling next to him in the moonlight. It was obvious to both of them that Schulter was growing more and more nervous about the operation; he was getting visibly more and more fidgety.
“Time to go,” whispered Wettering looking at Jahn. Then they both stood up and begin moving back towards the explosives cache. After a few seconds Schulter followed them. He didn't want to but he did. This is crazy. Maybe we should surrender.
Twenty minutes later the three Germans slowly and silently moved down the river embankment and disappeared under the bridges and out of the moonlight. Schulter cautiously led the way with his clutched machine pistol ready to instantly fire. He moved slowly and carefully until they finally moved out of the moonlight and disappeared under the first bridge, the railroad bridge that was their primary target.
Not a word was spoken. All they could hear were the sounds of the night and the croaking of frogs in the weeds along the river bank.
Once under the bridge they moved quickly to the supports on this side of the river. They removed the big ten kilo blocks of plastic from their canvas backpacks and then, one bridge support at a time, Wettering and Jahn carefully shaped and attached the grey putty while Schulter moved back to the edge of the bridge to stand watch.
Karl and Jacob couldn’t see it but Schulter was sweating and shaking in the cool night air; and he suddenly needed to pee so badly that he finally unzipped his pants and did.
When all the charges were in place for both bridges, Karl moved swiftly to each of them, pushed the firing mechanism timer into the putty, and pulled the pin so he could throw the activation switch. Each time, before he pulled the pin, he hesitated and tried to remember if he’d set the timer properly to 0412. Then he took in a deep breath, threw the switch, and hurried on to the next charge with Jacob following close behind carrying the box of timers.
Just as Karl was about to activate the third charge there was a noise in the distance and a minute later a flashing bright light and loud rumbling an rattling noise as a train passed over. They waited anxiously until the train passed, its arrival somehow reminding them of their danger. Then Karl activated the final four charges and they scrambled up the embankment. Only the fact that he had just peed enabled Schulter not to wet his pants as the train approached the bridge.
The charges were wired together and set to go off simultaneously at twelve minutes after four in the morning. The three Germans will have a good three hours start on the eight hour walk back to their forest and their supplies and equipment. Each of them, without saying a word to the others, wondered if he’d hear the explosion.
****** Admiral Mike Morton
Activity and talking was going on everywhere in the brightly lit hangar. A stocky admiral with his sleeves rolled up so everyone he is sending on the mission can see his SEAL tattoo and know he is one them, stood listening to an air force master sergeant. He was holding an aircraft instrument in his hands and looking at it with a sour expression on his face.
“Admiral, this here bird is going to need fixing." Bad short somewhere.”
“Damn. That’s not good news. Okay Bobby, you’re the boss; we’ll go with the standby.” Still can’t get used to being called Admiral.
This is the fourth straight night of raids and by far the smallest number of my guys are going out tonight. Aircrews have never been a problem but this is the first time we’ve got enough choppers and Hercs. Shit. Now that I’ve finally got enough birds I’m beginning not to need them all.
I felt more than a little guilty standing here giving pep talks and waving goodbye instead of going with the troops. That’s because tonight they’re going after “achievable” telephone exchanges and canal locks in East Germany, Hungary, and the Czech Republic. Achievable means the targets Dave Shelton and the Detachment’s planners think we can reasonably get our guys into by helicopter or C-130 even if we can’t extract them and they have to surrender after they complete their mission.
I’m really worried about the Rangers, particularly those who will be dropping into that little park in downtown Prague. Same for those that will be landing on the grounds of the big communications complex in Budapest. I don’t like either of those operations at all. But that’s where we’ve got to go to wipe out their communications without using bombers that would almost certainly kill a bunch of civilians.
We are also, for the first time, sending swimmers into Poland. They’re tasked to take out a couple of railroad bridges over the Oder. Dave says they aren’t likely to run into any serious opposition and that’s what I told them. But how would Dave know? I sure hope he’s right.
“You Charlie, Long time no see. How ya doing?”
****** Corporal Ian Macgregor
It is almost dawn when Corporal Ian Macgregor noticed movement along the south fence of the big coal-fired power plant at Pilsen.
“Jock, you see that?”
“Aye Ian, that I do,” he sighed.
“Bloody fools. That’s what they are and no mistake.”
Then both of the elite Third Paras ducked back around the corner of the old brick building, pointed their assault rifles in the air, and let loose with a rapid series of deafening three round taps as a pair of Czech searchlights came on in an unsuccessful attempt to find and blind them.
Neither man made an effort to shoot the attackers cutting through the wire fence. They don’t have to and they are professionals—they only kill when it is absolutely necessary.
Seconds later a series of huge explosions began to devastate the plant. The control room virtually disappeared along with every one of the electrical generators. The furnaces, smoke stacks, and coal conveyors went down right along with them. In less than a minute the plant was totally destroyed. It will take years to rebuild.
The casualties that result were mostly British and occurred because of the unexpectedly huge amount of flying debris. Some of the thirty-man platoon of British Paras will be prisoners and off to the local hospital when the dust and smoke begins to clear.
The question as to whether NATO really ordered its troops to blow up power plants if an effort is made to retake them has just been answered.
Chapter Ten
“This is the President. Is General Roberts on the line?”
