Soldiers and Marines Saga, page 49
They were the last planes to reach Old Reykjavik. When each plane screeched to a halt at the end of the runway its pilot jumped out and ran like hell for the fighting holes and positions of the Marine ground crews who popped up from their holes and frantically waved to get their attention. When they reached the ground crews’ fighting positions the three Marine pilots picked up weapons and prepared to fight as infantry; the two air force pilots tried to get as low as possible as they described their kills to each other and compared their scores. Hydra bummed a cigarette from her fellow survivor and decided to take up smoking again.
Dozens of surviving Russian troop carriers reached Reykjavik and began dropping their paratroopers even before the last of the American fighters ran out of ammunition and missiles. But that isn’t the end of their troubles—the Marines have SAMs. Five more transports fall, one with a huge explosion. But they are all hit after they have already discharged most of their jumpers.
Norwegian fighters, a grand total of four old F-16s, arrived five minutes later, well after the surviving Russian troop transports finish dropping their paratroopers and turn for home. Even so the heavily outnumbered Norwegians used their missiles to splash a Sukhoi and six of the sixty-seven surviving troop transports for the loss of two of their F-16s to the remaining Russian fighters.
The Norwegian pilots don’t know it but they can also reasonably claim eight more SU-27s. The Russian fighters use so much fuel maneuvering to get a shot at the desperately turning and twisting Norwegian F-16s that eight of them run out of fuel and have to ditch before they can reach their late-arriving aerial tankers. NSA listens as, to a man, the Russian pilots curse the tanker pilots as they fall into the cold and choppy Atlantic and die.
******
Despite the Russian plane losses which take almost five thousand of their paratroopers out of the fight before it even begins, the nineteen hundred outnumbered Marines on Reykjavik are about to fight one of the most intense battles in the history of the corps – up close and personal against almost thirteen thousand elite Russian paratroopers.
Lance Corporal Randy Robbins and Corporal Mike MacAfee have a thirty caliber machine gun and their personal M-16s in their newly dug hole surrounded by sand bags. They also have 500 rounds of ammunition and six grenades. They are too naïve and surprised to be afraid when they see the brown chutes of the Russian paratroopers begin to fill the sky over the airport. Wow, look at that.
No quarter was asked or given in the ensuing vicious and bloody fight for the airfield. Each of the Marines, including the brigadier and his staff, instinctively shoots at the paratroopers coming down towards him and those who have landed closest to him or on him. As a result, the Russians who touch down near each of the Marine positions are mostly dead or wounded before they hit the ground or while they are still trying to get free of their parachutes.
A Marine in the hole next to MacAfee’s heard him counting out loud as he fired his M-16. “One, two, missed, three….sixteen, seventeen, missed, .. twenty-one, twen.. Argh.” Then the counting stopped.
Within ten minutes the situation settled down into an old fashioned close quarters dogfight between two packs of pit bulls. The Russians who land in the center of the runway and in the built up area with hangars and offices hold the airport; the Marines hold a ring of positions close in around the airport; and the two big groups of Russians who land four or five miles away are running towards the airport despite being raked by fire from the Marine attack helicopters and the guns mounted on the Marine vehicles on that side of the airfield.
All Marines are good shots as all Marines are required to be and the Marines on the ground at Reykjavik were no exception to the rule. They continue to pick off every moving Russian paratrooper and soon eliminate those on the runways and taxiways as well, at least all those dumb enough to move or draw attention to themselves. The Russian airborne troops were equally well-trained and willing to fight and used the cover they found to great advantage.
Greatly aiding the Marines was the fact that most of them are firing from prepared positions behind sandbags while the Russians, particularly those who land on the runway and the taxiways and the open areas around them, are wide open with no place to hide. Other Marines were firing from the machine guns mounted on the Marine’s tanks and light armored vehicles.
Most of the Russian paratroopers who land on or near the field were slaughtered with nearly one hundred percent casualties by the time the Marines turned their attention to the Russians who landed away from the airfield and were now running towards them over the open land around the airfield.
An hour later, the din of the battle was receding and the ground is everywhere covered with dead and wounded men. The Russian paratroopers hold only the hangars and a couple of buildings at the end of the runway. Almost all the rest are dead or wounded except for some of the late arrivals who are smart enough to turn around and run as far away from the airfield as they could get. The surviving Marines were in shock as they surveyed the carnage around them and listened to the screams and anguished cries for help from the wounded Russians and their fellow Marines.
Almost half of the Marines are dead or seriously wounded and many more are walking wounded. It will take three more days and almost a hundred more Marine casualties before the Marines, now under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Barry Smeltzer, can retake the building and hangars and regain complete control of the field. It will be cleared of debris and reopen twenty-two hours later.
Joseph Henry “Big Dog” Smith is among the Marine casualties. The Big Dog will never bark at the troops again—his men find him, still clutching an M-16, sprawled over a sandbag and surrounded by a pile of empty brass cartridges.
******
Enterprise came out of the Mediterranean running at the highest speed it generate as it turned its 1123 foot length, the longest of any naval vessel in the world, into the wind and began launching virtually all of the planes of its air group into the dark and rainy afternoon gloom. They will refuel in France and fly on to Germany and the war. And they will arrive twenty-four hours late because the Enterprise waited for over a day south of Greece until a late-arriving summer storm finished covering the North Atlantic with enough heavy clouds to conceal its position.
Only the Enterprise’s anti-submarine helicopters and a handful of fighters, just three, are on board when biggest of all the carriers in the American inventory finished launching its planes and turned to dash for safety. It was a significant event—an American carrier group will, for the first time, depend almost exclusively on its missile firing escorts and its two attack subs for protection.
Enterprise is to return to the States to load more planes. The admiral on board and the ship’s captain don’t know it yet, but, this time, instead of planes, the Enterprise will take on every assault helicopter that can be flown aboard and head straight back to Europe. The navy carrier planes still in the United States will fly to the war via Newfoundland and Iceland when Reykjavik reopens.
Eight other American carriers are inbound from the great naval staging area in the Hampton Roads and from the Pacific Fleet; they will repeat the launching process and send their planes to war in the next few days. Then they too will head off to various American ports on the east coast to reload.
When the inbound American carriers do finally reach the war zone they’ll join France’s Foch and Clemenceau and Britain’s Hermes and Ark Royal; they long ago flew off their original planes and have already been reloaded with helicopters and armor in Israel and are already heading back carrying another load.
Australia’s HMAS Melbourne flew off her planes two days ago and now, after being narrowly missed by all but one of the anti-ship missiles of a Russian TU-16 off Gibraltar, is limping its way to Taiwan to pick up attack helicopters. Its crew will bury its 36 dead and repair the damage to its superstructure while the Melbourne is underway.
******
A steady stream of navy and Marine aircraft had already arrived in Germany by the time the Enterprise launched its planes and starts running for the States to reload. Several days after the war started the navy and Marine planes being held in the States “for use on the navy’s carriers” are finally released to join the fight, over navy objections so profound that the President acting as Commander in Chief had to give the necessary orders. They are transiting via Massachusetts, Newfoundland, and Iceland and began reaching Germany yesterday and yesterday evening.
It’s a good thing some of them had already reached Germany because today Iceland is under heavy attack and will be shut down indefinitely. Tonight the first navy pilots to arrive will fly their initial mission. It will be a dandy and, hopefully, catch the Russians flatfooted.
According to Macefield, the Russians are attempting to regain some semblance of air fighting ability by positioning their three remaining AWACS deep in Russia. From there, where our fighters cannot reach them, the Russian AWACS are able to provide air control for the Russian planes operating over some parts of the battlefield. In essence, they are too far for NATO’s short-legged fighters to reach but close enough when they are at their maximum altitudes and radiating at maximum power to direct the Russian and East German planes on the Russian side of the battlefront.
We’ve already made two efforts to get them. But each time the presence of our relatively slow aerial tankers has given the Russians sufficient warning to move deeper into Russia and evade our attack. This time, we hope, will be different.
Tonight’s plan is simple. Fourteen planes from each of two squadrons of Navy F-14 Tomcats will go after the Russian Tupolev AWACS that have begun radiating from deep inside Russia. Almost all of the twenty-four Tomcats will carry “buddy stores” of fuel and function as a chain of aerial refueling stations. They will either pass fuel on to the designated shooters or meet them and refuel them on the way back.
Passing fuel back and forth is something navy pilots know how to do; of necessity, every carrier pilot is required to be an expert in the use of buddy stores for aerial refueling.
And that’s what is happening. The Navy Tomcats waited on the runway until they received word from a British AWACS that two of the remaining Russian Tupolev Moss had begun radiating from deep inside Russia. The Russians were up in an effort to provide guidance for any SU-27s that might go up that night to challenge NATO’s nighttime air supremacy. As soon as they get the word the Tomahawks take off and go for them.
Both of the Moss were too distant for their air controllers to see the Tomcats’ takeoffs and initial flight paths on their monitors. When they first showed up on the Russian monitors the Tomcats appear to be nothing out of the ordinary, just more of the NATO planes that dominate the night time air space over the battlefield. The Russian radar operators merely marked them as potential targets, but nothing special.
Initially the Tupolevs’ controllers paid little attention to the Tomcats. That lasted until well after the Tomcats’ first refueling. That’s when the first of the F-14s acting as tankers began to turn back after discharging their buddy stores and the remaining Tomcats keep coming. This was something new and it caused discussions on both Russian AWACS about the Tomcats’ intentions. The Russians still did not understand their danger. To the contrary, they are complacent knowing that NATO fighters do not have enough range to reach them and that none of NATO’s KC-135 Stratotankers are in the air.
Even after the second refueling, this one at high speed, the Russian comptrollers still did not understand what was happening when more of the Tomcats turn back after refueling those that continue. About the time of the third “buddy stores” refueling, when more Tomcats turned back and two press on towards each of the Russian AWACS, it finally dawned on the Russian commanders, first one and then the other, that they themselves were the targets. They called frantically for fighter support as they dove to pick up speed and move deeper into Russia.
It was too late.
One after another the four Tomcats locked on to their targets and launched both of the long range Phoenix missiles each is carrying. Then they turned back to rendezvous with the Tomcats of another squadron to take on more buddy stores of fuel and begin the long ride home. When they get back the pilots will rest and get ready to go again tomorrow night.
Debris from the two Russian AWACS was scattered over miles and miles of an otherwise desolate and empty landscape.
******
Dave launched his final teams of jumpers into Hungary, East Germany, and the Czech Republic as soon as the Navy Tomcats turned off the Russian AWACS. This time they are going after water and sewage pumping stations, at least those that are close enough to drop zones so that our guys can reach them and then either destroy them or hold them and shut them down.
We are running out of targets for Dave’s paras to destroy unless, of course, we go after the Warsaw Pact airfields—which we damn sure will when the time is right.
Also that night, for the second night in a row, more of the German deep penetration teams are moving out to set charges to blow more bridges and culverts to cut the Trans-Siberian Railway in even more places.
What Dave and I and our planners anticipate, read hope and pray, is that the poor state of communications and the communist bureaucracy will, at least temporarily, paralyze the Russians so the German teams can do even more damage to their Siberian railroads and infrastructure before the Russians wise up and raise their guard.
All we can do is hope the paralysis lasts long enough for the German penetration teams to hit the Trans-Siberian and their other targets, primarily the pipelines and pumping stations bringing oil and gas from Siberia, before they begin to be seriously guarded.
Schulter’s team almost did not join in the German efforts to get a second bite of the Trans-Siberian apple. After fitfully sleeping until about noon, an increasingly agitated Schulter announced that the three Germans will, instead of going for their second night’s target, set off to check on their other cache of equipment and supplies. He wants to make sure it has not been discovered. Wettering and Jahn were appalled and looked at Shulter and each other in dismay.
“Mein Gott, Schulter, that is not correct. Our orders are clear. Tonight we are to blow the big railroad culvert ten kilometers to the south. We are already late getting away. We need to start immediately.”
“Nein, I am in command here and we will go check the condition of our other store of supplies. Besides, we need to get some of the explosives there because we will have none here after we blow the culvert. If we go to the culvert now someone may report us. They will be on a close lookout now that we have destroyed the two bridges.”
“Umm. Perhaps we can do both,” suggests Wettering after a long and thoughtful exchange of looks with Jacob. “You go check on the camp and Jacob and I will inspect the culvert and do whatever we can do to bring it down.”
After much discussion, some of it quite angry and on the verge of insubordination since Schulter is supposed to be in command, Wettering and Jahn picked up their weapons and explosive packs and began hiking through the trees. They were headed towards a culvert that runs under the tracks on a particularly steep mountainside. Schulter just stood in their camp and watches them go.
Schulter was not there when they return to their camp more than twenty-four hours later.
****** General Roberts
Our now-regular teleconference with the President at 2100 went over familiar territory: Our ratios appear to be outstanding; we are holding in the south and center and in front of Hamburg; and we are continuing to be pushed back towards Frankfurt in the north.
I reported that there is still scattered fighting in Iceland and the Reykjavik field is not yet operational. However, I noted, General Macefield has received a report that suggests the old Reykjavik airfield might be usable. Both fields will be overflown first thing in the morning by a Norwegian turboprop designed for short landings on rough fields.
The Norwegian pilot will, if possible, attempt to land so the runways can be inspected; an American air force runway engineering specialist is already en route to Norway to accompany him. They will leave Norway tonight and be at Reykjavik at dawn. A runway engineering specialist?
Admiral Pickens, the Director of NSA then reported something I found quite interesting: NSA has still not picked up any transmissions to indicate that Moscow and the Warsaw Pact military headquarters know the Trans-Siberian Railway has been severed in a number of locations even though our satellite images suggest that is the case and the damage extensive.
NSA also reported that Ivanov and the Warsaw Pact military headquarters know about the prisoner releases and that the invasion of Iceland has failed. What was surprising, the Director of the NSA noted, is that there is no indication Ivanov and the defense minister have reported any of these setbacks to the military committee of the Soviet Central Committee. If true, what does it mean?
“Ah… Chris Roberts here with a question for everyone. What does it mean if the Military Committee of the Politburo is not being kept informed about events such as the prisoner releases and the damage to the Trans-Siberian and other infrastructure?”
I think it means Ivanov knows the invasion is in serious trouble and doesn’t want to admit it but I want to be sure before I act on the possibility.
******
Immediately after the teleconference I called Dick Spelling because, once again, as he had yesterday evening, the President asked me if it would be helpful to update the media on our successes. Spelling is still at the wartime White House when I call and said he’ll get back to me. Hmm. I wonder where they’ve got the President?
About thirty minutes later Dick called on a secure phone and told me the suggestion about talking to the media originated with the President’s chief of staff, Tom Merton.
Apparently Merton is worried about the President’s “legacy” whatever the hell that is in case we lose. Merton’s thinking, said Spelling, “seems to be that if you accept responsibility for making the decisions and they turn out to be bummers and lead to defeat, history will blame you instead of the President.” Hell, that’s fair.
