The Last War? : Chapter 389

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Matt Wiser.

*

D+33

*

0031 hours. HMS Heron (RNAS Yeovilton), Somerset.
Lieutenant Ian Richardson eased the Harrier T.8N down onto the runway. He pushed the nozzle level fully forward to bring the aircraft to a walking pace rapidly, before taxiing to the hardstanding belonging to 899 NAS. A second T.8N followed him off the runway and parked alongside.

*

The two trainers had been attached to 801 NAS to act as 'buddy-tankers'. However, as had been found out during pre-war exercises, they had soon become more trouble than they were worth. The T.8N could not fit on the lift of an Invincible class carrier, so had to be maintained on the deck. That made servicing them difficult and affected availability. They also got in the way. It would have been worth it if they had a decent amount of 'give away' However, a T.8N could only refuel two FA.2 once before having to return to their parent carrier to refuel. After the pre-war exercises when the concept had been tested, the capability had been mothballed. But, because their deployment had been included in the mobilisation plans, two aircraft had been assigned to each carrier. Much to the chagrin of their captains and Commanders (Air). After a few days, excuses had been found to send them ashore. For example, the four T.8N assigned to HMS Invincible and Ark Royal had been sent to a Norwegian airfield. They had occasionally still been used as tankers, but most of the time were used to ferry personnel and small items of equipment who needed to be places in a hurry.

*

With the war lasting longer than had been expected, it had been decided to rotate some of the pilots aboard the carriers assigned to the ASW Striking Force. It was also a good opportunity to send the troublesome T.8N back to RNAS Yeovilton for good. Eight pilots, four each from 800 and 801 NAS had been sent back with the trainers. A similar number of pilots from 899 NAS had already reached the ASWSTRIKING force. Two of the now former 899 NAS pilots had ferried a pair of FA.2s to the force, giving each carrier ten Sea Harriers each.

*

As Richardson and his four fellow pilots walked across the pan to report, they spotted what appeared to be a visiting RAF Harrier. In the low-light they could not make out any markings, but could see that it was a two-seater.

“Looks like a T.12.” One of the 800 NAS pilots observed.
“Yeah, must be from 233 OCU.” Richardson replied. “Wonder what brings it to Yeovilton?”

*

“Morning, Ian.” Commander John Lawson, the Commanding Officer of 899 NAS, said, having asked Richar dson to come to his office once he had finished signing his jet over. “Sorry to keep you from your bed, but want to brief you on a couple of things first.”
“That's okay, Boss. Like I said once before, I'll sleep when I'm dead.” He said with a wry grin.”
“Think we all will.” Lawson agreed. “First of all, welcome to 899, or more accurately, welcome back. As you're a QFI, I'm going to put you to work getting the sprogs we still have on our books operational. You'll also need to take your turn on QRA. However, there's also a special job I want you to do with the Crab's Fast Jet Operational Evaluation Unit. The details can wait until after you've had some kip.”
“It to do with that T.12 outside?”
“Get to bed, Ian. I'll tell you later.” Lawson told him. “Now get to bed, that's an order.” He added with a smile.

0135 hours GMT. H.Q NORTHAG (Forward), near Rheindahlen, FRG.
The narrow camp bed now felt like something of a luxury to General Horne, as he lay under the rather thin army blanket. For once he had taken the opportunity to partially undress. It seemed like he had only just closed his eyes when he was shaken awake by one of his aides.

“We seem to have a problem, Sir. General Bertholee need to speak to you urgently.”
“Give me a moment, David.” Horne replied, groggily. “Takes me a moment to wake up at my age.”

He sat up and swung his legs out of bed. Like all graduates of Sandhurst, he retained the ability to dress quickly and followed his aide only a few minutes after getting up.

*

“Rob, what the crisis?” Horne asked his Chief of Staff, while taking a cup of coffee held out by a sergeant.
“COBALT H.Q has gone silent, Sir.” Generaal-majoor Bertholee replied. “We've been monitoring their radio traffic and the last thing we heard was that comms had gone down with I German Corps and General Scholtz was heading there to sort it out himself. We've heard nothing since. Whatever the issue with comms was has evidently sorted itself out as there is a lot of traffic coming from both the Dutch and West Germans. But nothing from COBALT H.Q.”

Horne thought for a moment. Before he had gone to get some sleep he had been briefed on the Soviet counter-attack. It looked serious, but he had been sure that Generalleutnant Scholtz would be able to handle it.

“Ask General Wieker to join us immediately.” He ordered his aide.

His deputy had been getting something to eat, but almost literally dropped his meal before hurrying to the command trailer. Like Horne he was briefed on the situation.

“Volker, I want you to fly to COBALT H.Q and sort out whatever mess is going on. As far as I can see, the operation is falling apart. The Soviet counter-attack looks like a major one. COBALT is over as of now. I am going to use my authority to take over command and disband its H.Q once this immediate crisis is over.
“Get me a map and comms with 2 (British) and III (US) Corps!”

A member of staff laid a map down on a table in front of the three generals. Horne stabbed at it and moved his index finger down a line.

“We need to establish a stop line here with 2 and III Corps. That's five heavy divisions, an armoured cavalry regiment and a ton of artillery. I wish we had more air, but a lot of it has been diverted to support LION. Well, we'll have to manage with what we have.
“Once the stop-line is established, hopefully before the Dutch and West Germans have been pushed that far, it will give them a position that they can retreat behind, if they need to. Or, in a best case scenario, give them some back up. Oh, and 1 (British) and the Belgian Corps should continue their operations. They'll tie down Warsaw Pact forces that might otherwise join this counter-attack.”
“What about CINCCENT, Sir?” Wieker asked.
“I'll square it with General Back, Volker. Don't you worry about it.” Horne told him. “Also, you still here? Helicopter's waiting.” He added with a slight smile.
“I'm on my way, Sir. Will report when I arrive.”
“Good luck, Volker. I'm counting on you.”

*

It took an hour to get in contact with CINCCENT, by which time General Wieker had reached COBALT H.Q and the Dutch and West German corps had effectively been brought back under NORTHAG command. The image of General Dieter Back did not look particularly pleased to have been presented with a fait accompli by one of his subordinates. However, on the other hand he knew how serious the crisis was and could not fault Horne for reacting quickly.

“Sir David, I have alerted the 50th Armored Division to be ready to move to your assistance. It's the closest of the divisions of I (US) Corps. Do you think you will need any more divisions released from my reserve?”

Horne had already done the maths. He believed that he probably already had enough force to stop the Soviets, but the more the merrier. He knew from memory that the American 50th Armored Division was a powerful formation. It would be most welcome, but there was one other thing he thought might be needed.

“Sir, I'd like to request one of I Corps' artillery brigades. One of the ones with three battalions would be best. With less air support than I would like and a shortage of PGMs, we will need as much artillery as we can get.”
“You will have one of them, Sir David.” Back replied. “Now I need to brief SACEUR. Please keep me up to date.”

The screen went black and Horne turned to his Chief of Staff.

“Rob, looks like we may have a chance of salvaging something from this mess after all.”

Bertholee nodded in agreement. Before he could reply a messenger entered the trailer and handed the Dutch officer a note.

“Damn.” He muttered. “General Scholtz is dead. A helicopter crash.”
“Bugger. Explains the comms silence. Bloody shame, he was a good man.”

0241 hours GMT. USCGC Dallas, west of the Azores.
What had started as just another gale was now a Force 10 storm and increasing, with the latest forecast predicting that it would reach Force 11 on the scale shortly. Waves were already battering the ships of USK-003. Even the larger vessels were already beginning to take it 'green' regularly and life was getting unpleasant aboard the escorts.

*

The rain was battering off the cockpit canopy of the SH-2G Super Seasprite as Lieutenant Frank Westover, USNR, manoeuvred the helicopter towards its parent vessel, the US Coast Guard cutter, USCGC Dallas. The wipers were struggling to keep pace with the rain, reducing visibility significantly. The escort commander had ordered that all helicopters now airborne should land before recovery got too dangerous. The weather was already making it challenging, but nothing beyond what naval aviators and ship's crews trained for.

Westover was a pilot in HSL-74 “Demon Elves”, a US Naval Reserve unit based at NAS South Weymouth, in Massachusetts. He commanded a detachment formed of three pilots, including himself, two sensor operators and six maintainers. As the Hamilton class cutters like Dallas were designed to operate HH-65 Dolphins, it had been decided to assign SH-2G to them, rather than the larger SH-60R.

In peacetime Westover was a commercial helicopter pilot and until recently had led a rather peripatetic lifestyle. He had flown helicopters to rigs in Australia's Northwest shelf, to British and Norwegian rigs in the North Sea, and more recently to those in the Gulf of Mexico. Tiring of not having put down any roots, Westover had given up flying in some of the worst weather, and had taken a job as a flying instructor.

As Westover closed on Dallas, he could made out her somewhat mottled appearance. During the mobilisation period, as many of the High and Medium Endurance cutters as possible were given a respray with navy grey paint. However, it had been a rather rushed job that was a simple overspray and now after a month a sea, the grey paint was flaking off, or even coming off in strips many meters long, revealing the white USCG livery underneath. Rust streaks did nothing to improve her appearance. Her captain was hoping that after this voyage there would be some time to clean up the worst of the mess.
Westover was very glad to get the SH-2G down on the deck and secure before it was towed into the ship's hangar. He and his fellow aviators made their way to their accommodation, doing their best to get some rest while the cutter was pitched violently from side to side.

*

At the end of a column of merchant ships not too far from Dallas was MV Cape Orlando. A roll-on/roll-off cargo vessel that was part of the US Maritime Administration's Ready Reserve fleet. While she carried a mixed cargo in containers, which were on trailers, ready to be driven off, the majority were filled with crated Avco-Lycoming AGT1500 power-packs for the 40th Infantry Divisions M1 Abrams. Like the other ships in the convoy she was being battered by wind and waves as the storm increased its violence to Force 11. But, she was coping. Her engineering crew had been conducting maintenance on one of her two diesel engines when the storm had hit and were now struggling to put it back together. While one engine was still in pieces, the other decided, with possibly the worst timing possible, to 'put a leg out of bed'. Two nearby engineers being lightly injured by pieces of engine casing. Without engine power, Cape Orlando began to lose way and with her superstructure acting like a sail, she was soon turned beam on to the waves. Her emergency generators had cut in almost immediately when main power had failed, but for some reason her pumps did not restart. With each wave slamming into her, Cape Orlando began to take on water and list.

Her captain ordered that a mayday be broadcast while her engineers struggled to restart her pumps. As the nearest escort, Dallas closed in on Cape Orlando standing by the Ro-Ro vessel to offer any assistance needed. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a rogue wave slammed into Cape Orlando, rolling her over. Hundreds of tons of water poured into the ship. Trailers and containers broke lose in her holds and slammed into her side, further unbalancing her.

“Oh sh*t!” The captain of Dallas exclaimed as he saw the wall of grey steel looming over his vessel. “Hard a port now! Full ahead on all!”

*

Lieutenant Westover was doing his best to brace himself in his bunk. Having decided that sleep was going to be impossible until the storm eased a little. He suddenly found himself almost thrown to the deck as the ship took violent evasive action.

'CRASH!'

He heard the sound of breaking glass and metal grinding against metal. Dallas rolled to her right, throwing Westover and the Lieutenant (j.g.), a man named Becker, in the bunk above him against the bulkhead. Water started to pour in through the scuttle, its glass having been shattered. The cutter continued to roll to starboard as something massive pushed down on her.

0301 hours GMT. Al Taji Military Prison, Iraq.
Lieutenant Commander Lisa Eichhorn lay on her mattress, covered in sweat, and as she tried to sleep, she thought about the day that was just ending. Another day in captivity, and no signs that the POWs' situation would change anytime soon. That was one thing the SERE instructors had said would set in after arrival at a prison, and once it was clear that the POWs were going to be there for a while, and “there” meant Iraq, she had adjusted. So had the others, she knew. Commander Eichhorn did worry about the two Army enlisted women at first, knowing that neither Sgt. Jennifer Collingsworth and PFC Lynch had gone through any kind of SERE training other than what had been given in boot camp, but so far, so far, she was impressed with how they were doing. Sgt. Verell was a key communicator, while Lynch was not just a key communicator also, but was one of the compound's “Memory Banks”, memorising all POW names she received. Commander Eichhorn did worry, though, that the young supply clerk was being marked as a troublemaker. Not only had she been caught communicating at least once, but when the Iraqis had pressured those POWs captured prior to the raid that had interrupted Saddam's POW parade to read statements denouncing it, Lynch had been one of the first four chosen, and she had been in a torture room just as Commander Eichhorn and the other two had been. So far, though, Commander Eichhorn was impressed with how Lynch was doing. With that, she promised that one way or another, Lynch would get some kind of recognition for her conduct as a POW once they were out of Iraq.

The day had started normally, with the POWs being awakened after the morning call to prayer. After that, the “Breakfast” of a piece of toasted bread (stale, as usual) and a cup of weak tea, came. The usual bucket dump came next, and that also included filling up the bucket of drinking water as well. Commander Eichhorn found out that there was no rhyme or reason to who went first, with prisoners being picked at random. When it was her turn, a guard came and opened her cell door, pointing to both buckets. She put on a T-Shirt and her sandals, then followed him out. As she tried to clean the waste bucket, the air raid alarm sounded, and then the flak batteries opened up. While the guard flattened himself on the ground, she watched with professional interest as at first, several F-16s, followed by four F-15Es and an EF-111, flew by headed south. Either they had just struck a target to the north, or were going in on a target in the Baghdad area, and the Iraqi air defenses now responded. Bomb blasts off to the south confirmed the latter supposition, but the flak kept on going for several minutes after that. Only after four F-15Cs passed by heading south at higher altitudes did the flak stop. All the while the guard had been flat on the ground, hands over his ears. When the all-clear sounded, he got up and looked at her, amazed that she had been watching the air raid.

“Were you watching the air raid?” He asked.

She simply shrugged.

“Nothing better to do.”

The guard looked at her again and shook his head. They seemed to all like this, wanting to watch an air raid.

“Finish up,” he said.

Commander Eichhorn finished scrubbing her waste bucket, then washed up, filled her drinking water bucket, then he took her back to her cell. After being locked in, she got on the wall, and some furious tapping from both Lynch and MacKenzie followed. They relayed messages flashed from others, and one from Capt. Amanda Carter, who had been an F-15E WSO, summed it up.

“Just hope we don't get any new members of the Country Club.” Which she agreed with wholeheartedly.

Later, after finishing her 3000 counts on her right foot and some calisthenics, Commander Eichhorn noted that more prisoners were being taken out of the compound, one at a time, then returned. Was that “Layla” back? A quick tap to both Mac and Lynch got them going, but all three tried flashing some hand signals. It didn't take long to get replies. “Layla” was back. Marine Capt. Donna Unger, RAAF Flight Lt. Nadine Glover, and Lt (j.g) Susie Porter-Flinn, her own B/N, had been among those who had been taken to see “Layla”, and they repeated what Commander Eichhorn and others had said: she wasn't playing pilot. “Layla” was the real deal, everyone felt. It took most of the morning and afternoon, but everyone, apart from the two Army women, had been interrogated by “Layla.” No one had yet been asked anything classified, and Eichhorn passed the word that if that happened, “we'll have to take it on the chin.” And everyone knew what that meant.

After the noon meal, with Mac and Lynch this time being on the dishwashing detail, Commander Eichhorn decided to take a chance. She asked the guard who brought Mac back to her cell if she could see the Commandant. He asked why, and she replied,

“I have a request.” The guard left, then returned after a few minutes to find her dressed in her yellow POW pajamas.
“You may see him.”

The guard then blindfolded her, and walked her out of the compound to the interrogation room. The blindfold was removed, and she not only saw the Commandant, but “Layla.” Commander Eichhorn gave a polite nod, and the Commandant-The Snake-nodded back.

“Commander,” he said. “I understand you have a request?”
“Yes, I do,” she replied politely.
“And that is?”

She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. The last thing she wanted was to spend a hot afternoon on her knees or getting trussed up in the ropes. Or both.

“I would like to ask if the prisoners in my compound can wash our clothes.”
“Doing your laundry, in other words?” The Snake asked.
“Yes.”

The Snake thought for a moment. To Eichhorn, it looked as if he was choosing his own words.

“I see. Well, I will give it some thought, and I will inform you. Is that all?”
“I would like to know if the letter that I wrote home has been mailed,” Commander Eichhorn asked.
“It has,” said the Snake.
“That's good to know,” she said. “Thank you.”

The Snake looked at her with a stern expression.

“Is there anything else?”
“No.”

Then “Layla” spoke up.

“A moment, please.” She looked at Commander Eichhorn. “I have a follow-on question from yesterday. I have talked to several prisoners who are also U.S. Navy or Marines, and they are 'Naval Flight Officers'. What is the difference between an Aviator and a Naval Flight Officer?”

Eichhorn thought for a moment, choosing her own words again. Again, this was something that wasn't classified, and could easily be found on the Web or in back issues of World Air Power Journal. No reason to dodge that, and not worth an afternoon on the knees.

“Well, an NFO is someone who's a non-pilot flying officer. Officer aircrew, basically.”
“Oh, you mean a navigator or weapons officer?” Layla asked.
“That is basically it. The Navy and Marines do things different from the Air Force.”

Even if, as Eichhorn knew, some NFOs were trained by the Air Force before going to P-3s or C-130s.

“I see.” Layla said.

She took out a small notepad and wrote down what Eichhorn had said, then nodded to the Snake and said something in Arabic.

“You may go,” he said, and motioned to a guard.

She was blindfolded again and walked back to the compound, peeping underneath the blindfold as she did to see if any of the men came out of the other compound. After she was thrown back into her cell, she got onto the wall to let both Mac and Lynch know about her talk with The Snake and Layla.

“Asking about NFOs?” Mac asked. “She wanted to know what that was with me. And the other A-6 crewers, and Laura Black, too.”

LCDR Laura Black was an F-14 RIO, and the only one in captivity so far. Hopefully, she would be the only one.

“So far, she's been asking for nothing classified. Let's hope it stays that way.”
“You, me, and the others,” Mac replied.
“Yeah,” Eichhorn said. “Now, we'll probably have to wait a few days before he'll let us do our laundry. Start thinking of some other way we can signal if he says no.”
“Will do, and I'll pass it on,” Mac said.

Commander Eichhorn got with Lynch. So far, “Layla” had ignored the two Army enlistees, and hopefully, it would stay that way.

Later, after the evening meal, Commander Eichhorn got ready for bed. She had gotten out of her pajamas and T-shirt, and only had her boxer shorts on. Even that felt like it was too much, being unused to Baghdad's heat, but she decided against going totally au naturel. She laid down and had managed to get tired enough to drift off when some frantic tapping from the wall opposite Lynch's cell came. After getting on the wall, Eichhorn found out that an new prisoner had arrived.

“Her name's Marci Eaton,” Lynch tapped back. “LTJG off the Kitty Hawk.”
“What's her squadron?” the SRO wanted to know.
“VA-115, and she's a right-seater.” That meant Bombardier-Navigator. “Her pilot didn't get out of the airplane,” Lynch added.

That was a punch to Eichhorn's gut. Not the first one to come in without another crew member who was KIA or MIA. And this wouldn't be the last, she was sure of it.

“Okay, Jessica. You know what to pass on to her, and ask if there's any info from the ship.”
“Got you,” Lynch tapped back. A few minutes later, she came back. “Got some news.”
“What's up?”
“First, they've lost a few people, and your boyfriend's the Squadron XO,” Lynch said. “He's been over Baghdad a few times, first on the 28th. And he was her strike lead when shot down.”

Right then, Eichhorn was full of pride. So Matt's the XO of the Eagles now? Either Commander Compton was KIA or MIA, and Don Gilfry had taken over, or Don was in either category and Matt had fleeted up anyway. And he had flown that strike that had crashed the POW parade. When this is over? We'll have to swap some stories.

“Anything else? You both need some sleep.”
“A rumor aboard the carrier is that you're an O-5 now,” tapped Lynch.”Your BF is too, and that's definite. Everyone's pulling for you and the others from the carrier.”

O-5? Neither one of us have time in grade, but....

“Okay, tell her to hang tough and GBU, and maybe we can talk one of these days,” Eichhorn tapped. Now I have to find a way to tell Susie, she thought. But that was easier said than done.
“Will do,” Lynch tapped. “GN, GBU.”

“GBU.”

The news about things on the carrier cheered Commander Eichhorn up. Well, now. Maybe this was a good day after all. She then laid back down on the mattress, closed her eyes, and tried to get some sleep.

0345 hours GMT. Off Klinteby, Zealand.
Lieutenant Neville Hope, RM kept low down in the LCVP Mk.5 approached the coast. A detachment of the Danish Frømandskorpset had already gone ashore a shot time before to mark the beach approaches and make sure that there were no enemy forces nearby. The LCVP grounded, its ramp dropping.

“Troops out!” The RM Colour Sergeant Cox'n yelled.


Hope's Troop dashed forward, spreading out as they advanced up the beach. They had been given an objective to reach and moved inland without any further need for orders. With no resistance from the Soviet garrison, 41 Commando pushed on to its second set of objectives, linking up with the Dutch 2nd Amphibious Combat Group on their right flank and the West German 1. Seebataillon on their left.

*

In this part of occupied Zealand the Soviets did not send out patrols in anything less than platoon strength after dark. Too many squad sized patrols had simply disappeared. NATO Special Forces and Danish Home Guards very careful to remove any evidence of where ambushes had taken place, so as to reduce the chances that the Soviets would take reprisals against the nearest civilian community.

On the morning of 25th May, several Soviet patrols had the misfortune to run into the Southern Force of Operation Lion. A number of patrols of Soviet airborne had the misfortune to run into their American and Canadian counterparts. The first indication at Soviet occupation headquarters at the Christiansborg Palace that something was up in southern Zealand was that almost every patrol in the area simply stopped responding to their radios. Some did survive long enough to report encountering enemy troops.

*

Lieutenant General Vassily Sokolovskiy, commander of the 14th Combined Arms Army and Military Governor of the island of Zealand looked at the situation map as he tried to determine whether what was happening was a raid, or an invasion. The best information he had to hand at the moment was that NATO paratroops had landed at several locations across the southern part of the island. Attempts at local counter-attacks had failed when they had been picked off by enemy attack helicopters. NATO fixed wing aircraft were also striking targets across Zealand. Sokolovskiy knew he needed to make a decision and fast.

“Comrade General, we have just received a FLASH message from Zossen.”
“Tell me, Comrade Colonel.”
“They have identified the enemy paratroops as being from the American 82nd Airborne Division and the Canadian Airborne Regiment. A reconnaissance aircraft has taken pictures of amphibious troops landing near Klinteby. There are also indications of armoured follow-on forces being prepared.”
“Thank you, Comrade Colonel.”

That seemed to fit with earlier intelligence that Swedish armoured forces had been spotted in Jutland heading to Fyn. Amphibious troops and armoured vehicles did not suggest a mere raid to Sokolovskiy. It was an invasion.

“Order the commander of the 26th Guards Motorised Rifle Division that he is to launch an attack on the enemy bridgehead immediately. Let him know that he will have the Naval Infantry Regiment and airborne forces attached to his force.”
“At once, Comrade General.”

Sokolovskiy knew that his order was something of a gamble. His 14th Combined Arms Army was seriously understrength and committing that force to the counter-attack would leave very little else to respond to any other NATO attacks. [1]

*

The first Soviet armoured vehicles cautiously approached the perimeter of the beachhead of the Southern Force. Lieutenant Hope watched as the company of T-90s bore down on his troop. For a few moments it did not look like anything would be able to prevent them from overrunning his marines. However, suddenly the tanks began to explode as they came under attack from US Army Apaches and Javelin ATGW. A few made it close enough to Hope's Troop to be engaged by marines wielding LAW80s.

The commander of the 26th MRD realised that a hasty attack to overwhelm the NATO marines and paratroops was not going to work. He ordered his forces to pull back and regroup. Instead he would carry out a series of probing attacks to locate any weaknesses before launching a renewed attack. He knew he had very little time to eliminate the beachhead before NATO armour started to come ashore.

0401 hours GMT. UN Headquarters, New York.
“They do a surprisingly good Cappuccino here.” The member of the Swiss delegation said as he sat down in the almost deserted cafe in the basement of the UN Building.
“Hm.” His counterpart from the Austrian delegation grunted. “I just want a decent, ordinary cup of coffee. Not a choice of every variety of Cappuccino, Americano, Frappuccino, Latte, Mocha, Espresso, or whatever. Costs a fortune these days too.”

The Swiss chuckled before sipping his Cappuccino.

“But, we're not meeting here to discuss coffee, Hans.”
“No, Dieter, we're not. My government is curious as to how long you plan to continue running aid convoys to Vienna.” The Austrian asked.
“For as long as it is needed. My understanding is that your government is happy for us to continue. Has something changed?”
“Well, no, but also, yes.” The Austrian said.

He sipped on his bog-standard coffee before saying any more.

“We are grateful that you are running these convoys. They are helping our people a great deal, and have in effect stopped the Soviet advance by getting in the way. However, we know that the Soviets are preparing a new major attack against our country. Probably with the eventual objective of advancing into Bavaria. Though, I imagine that you would not like Soviet troops actually on your eastern border.
“Our question is whether you will continue to run convoys with military escorts in those circumstances. Also, what might you do if a convoy was to encounter advancing Soviet troops.”

Dieter consider the question.

“We are not going to stop aid convoys when there are people in need, Hans. As to what might happen if a convoy were to run into Soviet troops wanting to go the other way. I imagine someone in our army will have considered that. We would seek to avoid confrontation, but it is hard for a large truck convoy to get totally out of the way. Our soldiers do also have authority to defend themselves. Especially after recent events.
“I think that should any encounter lead to casualties on our side, my government would seek to impose further sanctions on the USSR and the rest of the Warsaw Pact. I would imagine that ordinary Swiss would be very angry. They are not morally neutral.”
“Have you communicated the potential consequences to the Soviets?” Hans wondered.

Dieter nodded.

“We have let them know that we will continue to operate the convoys for the foreseeable future. And since there have been 'incidents', we reserve the right to strengthen the escort. You should see footage of wheeled APCs joining the convoys shortly.”

Hans smiled.

“Well, that throws something of a spanner in their works.” He said. “I mean, it would were you deliberately running convoys along routes the Soviets might use.” Hans corrected himself with a wry grin.
“Now, we'd never do that!” Dieter replied, a wry grin crossing his face.

0415 hours GMT. USCGC Dallas, west of the Azores.
Just as it seemed like the cutter was going to roll over, she suddenly sprang back upright. Dallas passed the vertical, listed to port before settling on a slight list to starboard.

“Damn, that was close!” Her captain commented. “Half ahead and get me a damage report now!”

The missing starboard bridge wing was the most obvious damage, as was the fact that the bridge windows by where the wing had been were broken. Other damage was less obvious, but the blank radar repeaters on the bridge suggested the radars had been put out of action.

*

There was almost half an inch of water on the deck in Lieutenant Westover's cabin. Since he and Lt. (j.g.) Becker had managed to properly re-secure the scuttle at least no more was coming in. There was a drain in the deck, which Westover opened to allow the water to drain.

“We need to get to the hangar deck to check on the helo.” He told Becker.
“Okay, Boss.”

The two aviators emerged from their cabin to find 'Coasties' hurrying up and down the passageway. Several bumped into the two naval officers before a Coast Guard lieutenant stopped by them.

“Get back into your cabin, guys.” He said. “You're in the way.”
“We need to check on our helo.” Westover said defensively.
“Later, Lieutenant, later. I'll send someone to get you, but I haven't heard about any issues.”

A deflated Westover and Becker retreated back into their cabin.

*

“We've lost the starboard RIB and lifeboats, the starboard Fifty is gone as well. Both the air and surface search radars are out, though we do have one navigation radar. It's reading weirdly, though, because the foremast is bent over. Crew wise we were lucky; the most serious injuries were a few broken bones, but nothing needing immediate evac. Also, we're not taking on any water that our pumps can't cope with.”
“Sounds like it could have been a lot worse.” Dallas' captain observed. “And where's Cape Orlando?”
“She's on her side at the moment; it looks like she's sinking pretty fast.”
“Signal the convoy commodore. See if anybody can get over to her. We're not in any condition to assist.” The captain ordered. “Though, in this weather, I can't imagine they'll pick up many, if any survivors.”

***

[1] Theoretical order of Battle:
14th Combined Arms Army
- 26th Guards Motorised Rifle Division
- 88th Motorised Rifle Division
- 103 Airborne Division
- 7th Guards Airborne Division
- 103rd Guards Airborne Division
- 35th Guards Airborne Regiment
- Baltic Fleet Naval Infantry Regiment

Actual Order of Battle:
- 26th Guards MRD (75%)
- 88th MRD (regimental strength)
- Airborne Force (roughly divisional strength, formed from amalgamation of both divisions and regiment)
- Baltic Fleet Naval Infantry Regiment (50%)

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[jemhouston]

Thanks for the early Christmas present.

[Bernard Woolley]

You’re very welcome.

[Eaglenine2]

Thanks for the update

What units are in I (US) Corps?

[James1978]

What units are in I (US) Corps?

See detailed Corps ORBAT here.
The shorter version:
35th Infantry Division (Mechanized)
42nd Infantry Division (Mechanized)
49th Armored Division
50th Armored Division
157th Infantry Brigade (Mechanized) (+)
107th Armored Cavalry Regiment
5th Cavalry Brigade (Air Combat)
45th Field Artillery Brigade
113th Field Artillery Brigade
118th Field Artillery Brigade
151st Field Artillery Brigade
30th Air Defense Artillery Brigade
177th Military Police Brigade
201st Military Intelligence Brigade

[James1978]

Good chapter!

I'll confess I did not see the situation flipping that quickly in the NORTHAG AOR.

But it's nice to see some positive movement in BALTAP. Did the US and Canadian paras drop in, or was it a helicopter insertion?
It will be interesting to see if that resupply convoy the WP pushed through to Zealand included explosives for the engineers.

Losing MV Cape Orlando is going to hurt.

Keep up the good work!

[Matt Wiser]

Early Christmas present! BZ as usual, my friend, and so to business:

Looks like this is it re: Zealand. Now, the Soviets are going to do their best to make it as expensive for NATO as possible. The ones who will fight the longest and hardest will be the Naval Infantry and VDV.

For those FAA Harrier drivers, some time away from Norway will be welcomed. Even if they wind up sitting alert, and doing something else...

Still going to be a tall order to stop that Soviet push.

The Atlantic can be just as deadly as a Soviet sub attack. USK-003 is likely going to have to put into either the Azores or Rota/Gibraltar as a result. While CINC-CENT will not be pleased to find out a vital shipment is now on the bottom of the Central Atlantic.

For the POWs, it's another day as "Guests" of Saddam. While trying to figure out what their captors are up to with "Layla." Some things are not worth spending an afternoon kneeling on bare concrete with one's arms raised in the air or getting trussed up in the ropes. The difference between a Naval Aviator and an NFO is one of them.

Good work, and get with 390!

[Bernard Woolley]

Thanks for the update

Thank you.

What units are in I (US) Corps?

What James said.
It's probably the most powerful corps in AFCENT right now.

Good chapter!

Thank you.

I'll confess I did not see the situation flipping that quickly in the NORTHAG AOR.

The Soviets are more than capable of springing surprises on NATO.

But it's nice to see some positive movement in BALTAP. Did the US and Canadian paras drop in, or was it a helicopter insertion?
It will be interesting to see if that resupply convoy the WP pushed through to Zealand included explosives for the engineers.

It was a classic parachute drop to secure the flanks of the beachs and some choke-points inland. There are transport helicopters elsewhere...
No comment on the other comment.

Losing MV Cape Orlando is going to hurt.

It's going to mean that 40ID will be short of spare tank engines for quite some time to come. The remaining ships of USK-003 are also going to be late in reaching Kuwait.

Early Christmas present! BZ as usual, my friend, and so to business:

I did want to get this out before Christmas. Otherwise, it would have to wait for a while.

For those FAA Harrier drivers, some time away from Norway will be welcomed. Even if they wind up sitting alert, and doing something else...

Also gets rid of those pain in the posterior T.4N!

The Atlantic can be just as deadly as a Soviet sub attack.

Rogue waves are not unknown in the Atlantic. AFAIK, it is very hard to predict them and they have been responsible for the loss of quite a few ships over the years.

[Paul Nuttall]

No opportunity to spread MV Orlando's cargo around other ships of the convoy?

[Bernard Woolley]

Well, certainly not now!

[Paul Nuttall]

Well, certainly not now!

Indeed....