The Last War? : Chapter 399

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Jotun.

*

D+34

*


1633 hours GMT. Air Force Base Makhado, Limpopo, Republic of South Africa.
The SAAF Chief of the Air Force watched as four two-tone green and light-grey aircraft approached AFB Makhado. Two SAAF Hawk Mk.120s followed them at a safe distance, while a pair of Gripens orbited at higher altitude. The new arrivals already had their undercarriage down, indicating that they were friendly.

As the quartet descended to land the resolved themselves into Hawk Mk.60s of the Air Force of Zimbabwe. The two South African Hawks climbed away to join the Gripens, while the AFZ aircraft taxied in. As soon as they stopped they were surrounded by armed airmen from 515 Squadron. The security squadron personnel kept their rifles pointing down, but the message was there. The Zimbabwean pilots shut down their engines and opened their cockpit canopies. The officer in charge of the 515 Squadron detachment called on them to descend from the Hawks one at a time. Once each pilot had climbed down, they were searched before the eight men were allowed to climb into a waiting vehicle.

The senior pilot, who wore the rank tab of a squadron leader was taken to the waiting Chief of Air Force. After exchanging salutes, he introduced himself as the senior surviving pilot of 2 Squadron (Cobra).

“What brings you to South Africa, Squadron Leader?” The Chief of Air Force asked.

The general knew, having read the intelligence briefing surrounding the defection, but wanted to hear it from the man himself.

“We don't want to fight the Soviet Union's war any more, Sir. This is not our war, Zimbabwe and her people were in no danger from South Africa. In fact, the Soviet and East German advisors were the ones who were bringing danger to our nation. I don't understand why President Mugabe has taken us to war. I can only conclude he has been taken ill and is not himself. We decided that the best action we could do was to take our four remaining airworthy Hawks and fly them to your country and request asylum. I do have a request to make on behalf of my men.”
“Name it, Squadron Leader.”
“We have arranged for our ground crew and families to be flown out aboard a pair of Air Zimbabwe aircraft later today. I formally request that the South African Air Force provide them with an escort to prevent them from being shot down.”
“Let me know the time and place, and I will personally make sure those planes are protected to the greatest degree possible.” The Chief of Air Force replied. “You have taken a brave and honourable step and we will not let you down.”

1831 hours GMT. Ministério da Defesa, Brasilia, Brazil.
The defence attaché to the Embassy of the Federal Republic of Germany, Brigadegeneral Horst Manfredi, and the air force attaché, Oberst Florian Reuther, sat in the office of the defence minister of the Brazilian armed forces, who in turn was flanked by the general commanding the Brazilian air force. The conversation, or rather the negotiations, had been concluded and the minister recapped.

“So, in conclusion, the West German government want to buy an initial batch of eighteen Super Tucano aircraft outfitted for ground attack. Let me ask a personal question. How in the seven hells are those planes supposed to survive at the front?”

The German air force attaché smiled and replied.

“They aren’t going to operate anywhere near the front. They are going to serve as close air support behind friendly lines in case of enemy airborne or other operations, and also as point defence against enemy helicopters and attack aircraft.”

“Right, now I see. That actually makes sense.”
“We are also outfitting a handful of Pilatus PC-12 as surveillance and JTAC carriers as we cannot spare any jets for small-scale engagements behind the front. Those prop jobs totally, absolutely were not sold at a bargain price to us by the Swiss, no sir, not at all.” He harrumphed. “In retrospect, it would have been great to have a light ground attack component on D-Day. The defence of the government bunker alone would have been worth it. My kid brother might still have his left leg.” His face darkened briefly. “Better late than never, I guess.
“In any case, the standard sensor equipment you are putting into your Super Tucanos should suffice. We’ll kitbash a laser designator and FLIR onto the planes and will integrate every damn air to ground weapon NATO has plus Sidewinder and Stinger.”

The meeting concluded twenty minutes later, with the West German defence attaché signing the contract in the name of the Federal German Minister of Defence. On his way out of the ministry, the West German defence attaché ran into his British counterpart, who was on his way in. As attachés from fellow NATO and EU members, they knew each other quite well.

“What brings you here?” The West German defence attaché asked.
“I'm guessing a pretty similar reason to you, if the defence attaché grapevine is correct.” His British counterpart replied. “I'm not giving away any secrets if I tell you this, but we want Shorts to build some additional Tucanos. As far as we know, the license is still in place, but since the last aircraft was built in 1995, so we want to square it with the Brazilians.”
“Very wise. The Brazilians are being very helpful.” The West German defence attaché commented. “We wouldn't want to offend them.”

2046 hours GMT. Makado, Zimbabwe.
“Believe me, nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.” Lieutenant Colonel James Forbes thought, recalling the famous quote by Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle between the South African Army (including his team from the British Army training team) and the Zimbabwean National Army (including Soviet and East German 'advisors'). Forbes could see burned out armoured vehicles, some still smoking, along with dead bodies wherever he looked. The smell was unbelievable and he had smeared some petroleum jelly under his nose, along with wrapping a shemagh scarf around his lower face, to try to cover it up.

*

As part of 'Operation Salisbury', the South African 7 Division had advanced up the A6 Highway, as if it intended to eventually capture Bulawayo. A column from the division had also been sent up the A4 to protect the right flank. 47 Brigade had also crossed the border from Botswana, advancing west along the A7, capturing Plumtree. The South Africans had then dug in and awaited the inevitable counter-attacks.

Given that the Zimbabweans believed that 'Operation Salisbury' was a full-scale invasion of their country, they reacted predictably. The Zimbabweans had thrown most of the remainder of their army against the South Africans, including the two-battalion Presidential Guard Group, reinforced by a reinforced motor-rifle battalion from the Soviet 'advisory' group (the group's third battalion was in reserve). [1] The remnants of the ZNA's Mechanised Brigade had also been thrown into the battle, having been merged with the survivors of the notorious 5 Brigade.
The resulting fighting had been some of the bloodiest the African continent had seen in decades. Losses had been heavy on both sides, with the Soviet battalion inflicting severe casualties on parts of 72 Motorised Brigade, before its counter-attack had been stopped by the divisional reserve, including the Challenger 2s of the Trials Squadron under the command of Lt. Colonel Forbes.

Things had also looked a bit 'sticky' for 47 Brigade until a bombing raid by four Buccaneers carrying a full load of 1,000lb bombs, followed up by a quartet of Cheetah C, had stopped the attack and neutralised the Zimbabwean artillery. While they had not crossed the border themselves, the Botswana Defence Force had provided additional artillery and air support to the brigade.

Pummelled by South African fire, the ZNA forces had broken and their retreat had turned into a rout. Only the survivors of the Presidential Guards and the Soviet motor-rifle battalion retained their cohesion, forming a rear-guard against any pursuit. For their part, the South Africans had no intention to pursue. They were happy to occupy their by now well-fortified positions and had dispatched replacement from their strategic reserve.

*

Walking back to his command vehicle, Forbes passed some REME mechanics from his team, assisted by members of the South African 101 Field Workshop, working on a Challenger 2. The tank's left hand drive sprocket had been shot off by a Soviet T-72, which had managed to get to almost point-blank range, disabling the British tank. The Soviet crew had not lived long enough to enjoy their achievement, an L28A1 APFSDS from the disabled Chally had smashed through the face of their T-72. [2]

“Don't worry, Sir, we'll have her back in action soon.” The REME sergeant in charge of the team assured Forbes.
“I have every faith in you, Sergeant.” Forbes replied. “You're doing sterling work.”

On reaching his command Challenger 2, Forbes found Lieutenant Colonel Magnus Coetzee, the Commanding Officer of the 1st Special Service Battalion, waiting for him.

“Came to check up on you, James, man. Was one hell of a blerry battle.”
“Aren't they all, Magnus?” Forbes replied, with a tired smile. “Bit annoyed that one of my Challys had a drive sprocket shot off, but other than that, I'm okay. No casualties amongst my lads, thankfully. How are your lads?”
“Had six Olifants knocked out, along with four Badgers and seven RG-31s. Some of them should be repairable, but we took about forty casualties, including twelve dead. We were lucky compared to the units to 72 Brigade.”
“I'm sorry to hear about your casualties, Magnus. Vehicles can always be replaced, but men never can.
“What's next for us?”
“The brigadier has told me that the division is going to consolidate and absorb replacements. We'll probe northwards, as if we are intent on advancing towards Bulawayo. However, we're in no hurry to move out of the good positions we have here.” Coetzee replied. “Let the Zimbos come to us again. I imagine that in the meantime Pretoria will be reaching out to Harare, and suggesting they come to terms.”
“I'll keep my fingers crossed, but I get the feeling the man up in Harare might need another lesson.”

Coetzee nodded.

“I'm just sorry I can't deliver the message to him personally, man. I take no pleasure in killing men just following orders.”

2131 hours. RAF St. Athan, Vale of Glamorgan, Wales.
When Flight Lieutenant Susan Jackson had requested a return to operational flying, she was frustrated to find herself assigned to the fast jet section of the recently formed 'Ferry Pool'. Many of the pilots in the pool were older, called out of retirement, or, like Jackson, had recently been 'flying a desk'. As one of the younger pilots, Jackson had expected to be posted to an operational squadron after a refresher, so was frustrated to find herself attached to what the younger aircrew referred to as 'Dad's Air Force'.

The 'Ferry Pool' had been formed shortly before the outbreak of war to ferry aircraft from places like RAF St. Athan and RAF Abingdon, where they had been in storage, or undergoing maintenance. They were also responsible for delivering new aircraft from factories like Warton, Brough and Woodford.

*

Jackson walked around the aircraft, a Hawk T.1A, she was assigned to ferry to RAF Scampton. Where it would be issued to a squadron of the North Sea Strike Force. It had formerly belonged to No. 4 Flight Training School, and still showed a few traces of its 'gloss black' training scheme, which had been hurriedly stripped and replaced with a two-tone grey. Ironically, that particular Hawk had worn that 'air defence' scheme when assigned to a Tactical Weapons Unit in the 1980s and '90s, before being painted black when it had transferred to 4 FTS.
Flight Lieutenant Jackson climbed up into the front cockpit, having already stowed her gear in the rear one. Normally on a ferry flight, a baggage pod would be carried on the centreline pylon for that purpose. However, it was now the rule that all military aircraft that could be armed would be, even just for ferry sorties. In this case, Jackson's T.1A had a 30mm ADEN cannon under the fuselage, with an AIM-9L Sidewinder on each of the wing pylons.

“F*ckin' steam gauges.” Jackson muttered, as she took at look at the cockpit panel.

She was used to the 'Glass Cockpits' of aircraft like the Hawk T.2, Tornado and Typhoon. The first-generation Hawk was a step back to the 1970s, other than a few modern additions, like a GPS receiver.

*

The flight itself was relatively routine. Jackson had not flown a first-generation Hawk for a while, and reminded that it was something of a joy to fly. She touched down at Scampton during a rain shower. Jackson handed the aircraft over to the unit that would be using it, the newly reformed No.34 Squadron, and reported to the station's Operations Officer.

“I'm sure you want to get a bit of a rest, Flight Lieutenant, but the pool has another job for you. Don't know too much about it, other than it involves ferrying more Hawks. There's a Loganair ATP waiting to take you and a few other pilots to Warton. You've got half an hour to do what you need to do before the aircraft leaves. Please don't be late.”
“I'll be there, Sir. Don't worry.” Jackson replied.

2201 hours GMT. Thornhill Air Force Base, Gweru, Zimbabwe.
Armoured Personnel Carriers carrying soldiers from1 Parachute Regiment and 1 Presidential Guard Battalion swept through the main gate to the air base. To the shock of the airmen they did not even stop to allow them to raise the barrier, the leading APC simply smashing through it. These soldiers from the ZNA represented some of the last of the country's strategic reserves, and sending them to raid Thornhill AFB was not, perhaps, the best use of them. The air base itself had been attacked several times by the SAAF; damaged buildings and the wreckage of aircraft standing as a testament to the South African's efforts.

The Paratroopers and Presidential Guards detained any armed personnel and secured the base, preventing any air force personnel from leaving, and confining them to the buildings. With Thornhill secure, officers of the Central Intelligence Organisation arrived. They arrested the Base Commander, a Group Captain, along with several other senior officers, taking them away for 'enhanced' interrogation. They wanted to know how the surviving pilots, ground crew and aircraft of No.2 Squadron could simply disappear. That their families had also vanished had spread suspicion in the minds of senior officers of the Zimbabwe Defence Force, the CIO and the President himself, of collusion and probably treason amongst other AFZ personnel at Thornhill. [3]

Without key officers, the remaining squadrons at Thornhill AFB lost most of their effectiveness. Those left in place were either political 'yes men', out of their depth, or those who feared to take any form of initiative, lest it be seen as a form of rebellion. News of the 'Thornhill Raid' spread like wildfire throughout the air force. The same fear of being labelled a traitor, or simply being 'disappeared' led to a widespread malaise setting in, as nobody did anything without orders from above. Even the senior officers of the AFZ, who should have been giving orders, hesitated to act. Fearing, probably rightly, that they were under the microscope, as the Mugabe regime started a witch-hunt within the service.

The only section of the air force exempt from this near collapse was 1 Squadron (Bear) at Fylde Air Base and with very good reason. The squadron was Zimbabwean in name only, its Mig-29SE and Su-25K were flown and maintained by Soviet and East German 'advisors'. The air base itself was the home to the VVS section of the Soviet Military Advisory and Assistance Group. With the ZNA effectively out of action, the senior VVS officer basically took over command of Fylde and make sure that Soviet, or East German personnel were running anything important. Something similar was also taking place across the rest of the Armed Forces of Zimbabwe, as the Soviets and East Germans took advantage of many experienced senior officers being at the front, or dead. Units with 'advisors' attached to them began to come under direct control of the Soviet MAAG, in what was becoming a silent coup.

2215 hours. Warton Aerodrome, Lancashire.
The Loganair BAe ATP had taken just over half an hour to fly from RAF Scampton to Warton Aerodrome. Half a dozen other pilots had joined Flight Lieutenant Jackson at Scampton and once she and they had been dropped off, the ATP flew off, having other several other jobs to do. The pilots were led to a briefing room, where they found another half a dozen pilots from the Ferry Pool. They took advantage of the tea and coffee, and various biscuits before sitting down. After a short time an RAF Group Captain appeared at a lectern at the front of the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I know that some of you have just come from other ferry flights, so apologies for springing this on you on short notice. The job we have is to ferry twelve Hawk Mark 66s to Finland via Norway. Don't ask me who the previous owners of the Hawks were, but they sold them to BAE, who have sold them to HM Government. They, in turn, have passed them on to Finland.
“As I am sure you know, the Finns already use the Mark 51, which is similar to the 66. Their air force has taken significant losses and needs all the help it can get. Thankfully, while they have lost many aircraft, their aircrew losses have been relatively small. If we can get new aircraft to them, they'll be able to continue the fight. Which is where you come in. Get them successfully and we'll have another six for you to take to Finland.”

The Group Captain paused to pull down a large navigation chart that had been rolled up on the wall behind him. A route from Warton to northern Finland was marked, showing several legs.

“Your destination will be Rovaniemi, which is up in Lapland. With drop-tanks, your aircraft could just make it on one hop.” He said. “However, we're not going to be taking that chance. The first leg will be from here to Rygge near Oslo. From there you will transit to Frösön in Sweden and on to Rovaniemi. There is a full briefing pack available for you when you plan your route in detail, including diversion airfields and the weather forecast. Your aircraft will carry two drop-tanks and a 30mm ADEN cannon pod loaded with 100 rounds.
“Now, are there any questions?”
“How much time do we have to do the detailed route planning, Sir?” Flight Lieutenant Jackson asked.
“You will leave here at 0301 hours tomorrow. That's a hard limit.” The Group Captain told her.
“How do we get back, Sir?” Another pilot wanted to know.
“You'll be flown back.” The Group Captain said. “We haven't been able to work out the exact details as of yet, as it will depend on the situation on the ground in Finland. But, we need you back here ASAP, so rest assured, we're not going to leave you hanging about.”

A few more pilots asked questions before the briefing ended and they got together to plan the details of the individual legs of the flight. The briefing pack was satisfactorily detailed, including, amongst other things, detailed navigation charts, the weather forecast for the next five days, suitable diversion airfields and the potential threats that the Hawks would face.
The pilots worked into the early hours of the morning, working out the route. Consulting the briefing pack and what other information was available regarding what they might encounter on the journey, as well as making sure they knew all the appropriate radio frequencies and what IFF codes they should squawk. Once the route planning was finished, each pilot made sure they copied the route onto their own charts and took note of the radio frequencies, IFF codes etc. After that, there was time to get something to eat and a little sleep.

2306 hours GMT. Stanisławice, People's Republic of Poland.
The W-3 Sokół helicopter circled above the Polish village, several buildings of which were burning. Several hours earlier a train carrying armoured vehicles for the Soviet Army had derailed while passing through Stanisławice railway station. In doing so, it had also damaged the bridge carrying a major road over the railway, forcing its closure until repairs could be carried out. Soviet supply convoys on the road were now backed up for some distance in both directions.

Polish accident investigators picking through the wreckage had found what they had believed to be the cause – worn bolts holding rail chairs in place had fractured, allowing the rails to spread. They had checked railway records and had found that due to the needs of wartime, planned maintenance on this section of the rail network had been cancelled. That decision, had now come home to roost. However, KGB officers present had disagreed that it was simply wear and tear, blaming sabotage. There had been an argument between them, and the Polish authorities, which had ended with the KGB summoning MVD Internal Troops, who had surrounded the village of Stanisławice, excluding the Polish Milicja Obywatelska, ZOMO and Wojska Obrony Wewnętrzne. Who should have been the ones dealing with any internal security affairs in Poland. However, the Soviets had been increasingly taking over, acting like an occupying army. There had already been trouble, including examples of Polish and Soviet troops shooting at each other, but the Soviets seemed blind to the trouble that they were storing up for themselves.
With the village cordoned off, Internal Troops, led by KGB officers, made their way house to house, searching for the 'saboteurs' they were convinced existed. As might have been expected, villagers were beaten, a few shot, property was broken, or stolen and some houses set on fire. With the fire service kept out of Stanisławice, other buildings soon caught fire.

The Sokół had attempted to land close to the Soviet Command Post, but had been waved away. The helicopter had continued to hover above until Internal Troops pointed their rifles at it and it flew away, landing at the Polish Command Post. A seething Generał broni Piotr Jankowski, the commander of the Warsaw Military District, disembarked from the W-3, followed by some members of the 48th Special Forces Company. Jankowski had been on an inspection tour of units of the 9th Mechanised Division when he had heard the news. The general had immediately decided to fly to the scene.

Flanked by the soldiers from the 48th Special Forces Company Generał broni Jankowski strode up to the Soviet cordon. An Internal Troops senior lieutenant tried to stop him, but the Polish general gave him a look that would have penetrated the armour of a T-80.

“You can do one of two things for me, Senior Lieutenant. Either take me to your commanding officer, or get out of my way, so that I can find him myself. Your decision, but make it quick.” He said with quiet menace.
“Please follow me, Comrade General.” The cowed Soviet officer replied.

Jankowski's arrival at the Soviet Command Post caused junior officers to find reasons to be elsewhere. He was well known for his explosive temper when his patience, usually great, was exhausted.

“Who is in charge here?” He thundered.
“I am, Comrade General.” A Colonel of the Internal Troops replied, calmly. “What brings you here?”
“I am told you are conducting a security operation on sovereign Polish soil without the consent, or participation of the Polish authorities. While we, of course, wish to assist our fraternal Soviet Comrades in any way possible, this is too much. Innocent Polish citizens have been assaulted, even killed. Their homes vandalised, looted and set on fire. If there has been a criminal act committed, it is for our Milicja to investigate. I require, no demand that you withdraw your troops immediately, and allow our emergency services access, so that they can fight the fires and treat the wounded!”

The MVD Colonel folded his arms before replying.

“Comrade General, I have my orders to follow. However, I will contact my superiors to request clarification.”

The Colonel turned and picked up the handset of a field telephone. Suddenly a major, with GB tabs on his uniform grabbed the handset and slammed it down.

“Nyet!” He thundered. “Comrade Colonel, you already have your orders! Carry them out!” The KGB major said. He turned to Jankowski. “Comrade General, you have no authority here, I suggest you leave. Immediately!”
“No authority!” Jankowski thundered. “In my own country! Comrade Major, I can have the whole of the 48th Special Forces Company and the 5th Podhale Rifles Regiment here within an hour. I can also request reinforcements from the Milicja and the WOW. I have the authority of Chairman of the Council of State and First Secretary Jaruzelski to reassert Polish control over any internal security operation.”

The KGB major laughed in his face.

“Comrade Jaruzelski is only First Secretary for as long as we allow it, you pathetic peasant!”

He turned and nodded his head to two KGB senior lieutenants who had been standing behind him.

“Remove the General and have him and his men escorted back to the perimeter. If they resist, shoot them.”
“At once, Comrade Major.”

Before he knew what was happening, Generał broni Jankowski had been grabbed and frogmarched outside. His escort was momentary flummoxed, but the four commandos stepped forward to intervene. However, they soon found themselves surrounded by MVD troops, who attempted to disarm them. It was at that moment that things went from bad to worse, the Poles resisted, and tried to hold on to their FB Tantal rifles. Amongst the pushing and shoving, someone's AK-74 went off. Two MVD soldiers were hit, as was one of Jankowski's escort. The bullet that killed one of the senior lieutenants passed through him and struck the general in the right soldier. The Poles showed commendable restraint in not firing. They were able to break free from the remaining MVD and started to escort Jankowski to safety.

“Shoot them you idiots!” The KGB Major yelled, having come outside to see what the shooting had been about. “Don't let them get away!”

The Internal Troops were a little confused. Their orders had been to detain the Poles, not kill them, and shooting a general, even if he was a Pole, seemed a bit much. Frustrated, the KGB Major grabbed a AK-74 and began to raise it.

“I'll do it myself them!” He said just before one of Jankowski's escorts put a bullet through his head.

This provoked the MVD soldiers to raise their rifles and take aim. There would have been a shoot-out had the MVD Colonel not appeared on the scene.

“Hold your fire! Do not shoot without my express orders!” He yelled. “Let them go!”

*

“You need to get to a hospital, Comrade General!” The senior commando told Jankowski, as they helped him get back into the W-3.
“In a minute, in a minute. I need to speak to Warsaw first.”

Jankowski was able to get through to General Stanislaw Nowak, former Chief of Staff of the Polish Armed Forces, and now Special Military Advisor to the Chairman of the Council of State.

“They're damn well killing our people, Stosh!” Jankowski thundered over the satellite radio. “And running roughshod over sovereignty, keeping the Milicja, OWO, and even fire engines and ambulances out! They're going to let Stanisławice burn to the ground if we don't do something!”
“Calm down, Piotr, this is nothing new.” General Nowak replied. “It's a continuation of what they have been doing already. I will let First Secretary Jaruzelski know. He will call in the Soviet Ambassador...”
“You don't understand, Stosh.” Jankowski interrupted. “They damn well tried to kill me and my men, and the KGB made it very clear that the Comrade First Secretary is only in charge as long as they want him to be. They will keep repeating what they are doing right now in Stanisławice, and have done in other places already if we don't do something!”

Jankowski heard Nowak sigh at the other end of the connection.

“Well, it looks like the crunch has come, Piotr. I had hoped it wouldn't be for some time yet, perhaps a few weeks. Get yourself treated for that gunshot, then get to your reserve H.Q. I will be sending out the codeword 'KATYN' as soon as I finish this conversation. The First Secretary has given me that authority, just in case he is unable to give confirmation and I suspect I may not be able to see him.”

Codeword 'KATYN' was the most secret of secrets in the Polish state. It was something kept from their Soviet and other Warsaw Pact allies at all costs. It normally required confirmation from the First Secretary before it was transmitted, but General Jaruzelski had granted General Nowak the authority just in case there was an attempt by the Soviets to prevent him from giving the order.

“Ja pierdolę!” Jankowski exclaimed. “That's serious, Stosh, but you know what you are doing. I'll be ready for the codeword when it comes.”

***

[1] Order of Battle:

Presidential Guard Group (-)(+)
- 2 Presidential Guard Battalion
- 3 Presidential Guard Battalion
- Motor Rifle Battalion: BMP-2 (+)
-- Tank Company: T-72
-- Artillery Battery: 2S19

[2] The UK MoD did not want to export DU based APFSDS rounds, like the L27A1, so supplied the L28A1, which had a tungsten alloy long-rod penetrator APFSDS-T. The latter round originated as private development initiated in the late 1990s, to enhance the appeal of the Challenger 2 tank on the export market.

[3] An Order of Battle for the Armed Forces of Zimbabwe can be found here.

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[Eaglenine2]

Something sporty going to happen in Poland?

[Bernard Woolley]

That would be telling.

[jemhouston]

Polish Hussars are coming out to play.

The Soviet steel fist in the velvet glove is missing the velvet glove.

[Lordroel]

Another good update, so might we see the formation of a free Zimbabwe Air Force.

[Matt Wiser]

Nice chapter! BZ as usual, my friend, and now to business:

Things in Poland about to get Interesting, looks like. As in "May you live in interesting times" kind.. And that code word signals a lot.

Zimbabwe's now pretty much a de facto Soviet Satellite with the MAAG running a lot of the war down there. Don't be surprised if the defectors start fighting the Soviets and those still loyal to Mugabe.. And like all autocrats, he's looking for "traitors, defeatists, and cowards."

Tucanos can be pretty nasty in a low-threat environment. COIN and Counter-SOF are pretty much the same mission.

Ferry runs can be very boring or very hot. Red Storm Rising showed that...

Good work, and get with 400!

[Simon Darkshade]

You are spoiling us with such a nice, wide ranging update for Chapter 399.

The deep dive on the African front was interesting and well structured - the overview of the battle followed by the individual perspective flowed really nicely.

The RAF support/ferry section seemed familiar to me, after all the RAF stuff and base names I’ve been up to my third eyeball in of late!

If I were to guess as to the meaning of Katyn, it could well be some sort of Polish action against the Soviets. I’m not sure on what scale.

Would you be at all interested in a brief summary of each chapter to date to slap up in a sticky? It would be along the lines of ‘Chapter 12: Fighting in Germany; RAAF and RAN moves and details; More Autobahn skirmishing; Internees loaded up at Glasgow International Airport’

What that might do is provide new readers with a tool to find particular events from 15-20 years ago, old readers with some sort of very basic index, and your good self with an extra free tracking tool. Should it be of interest, I can start to slap something together in my spare hours once the dog is abed.

Simon

[Paul Nuttall]

Put Ja pierdolę! into google translate and you get O!......

[Bernard Woolley]

Quick response to say thanks, gents. Will post more later.

[Jotun]

Put Ja pierdolę! into google translate and you get O!......

Same here.
Another online app translated it as "Holy shit"

[jemhouston]

Put Ja pierdolę! into google translate and you get O!......

Same here.
Another online app translated it as "Holy shit"

Another said, I'm going to sensuously caress you!

[James1978]

Good chapter!

I wonder how much CINCWEST knows about how the KGB and MVD are "securing" his LOCs.

I wonder to what degree Embraer can quickly ramp up Super Tucano production? In that vein, I'm surprised an Embraer rep wasn't in that meeting.
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure the line is healthy what with the continued Cold War and all the narco-communist insurgents in South America who need bombing. Though I'd be a little surprised if Embraer hadn't already integrated at least a laser designator.

Hawk 66 you say? I guess somebody is willing to support other former neutrals at least.

Keep up the good work!