TIPOTS: Nightwatch

[MKSheppard]

Nightwatch: Memorial Day

Memorial Day: 31 May 1959

Traditionally, the home of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was the site of a full dress Memorial Day picnic, but this year it was felt that things should be somewhat low key. The death toll in the Sakhalin War (which the damned papers insisted on calling the New Year's Day War) had been light, for all its awful potential: under five thousand dead, but a thousand of them had been Army and Navy wives and kids. No nuclear weapons had flown, but it had been close, and there was a very closely guarded crash site it the Pacific Northwest to back that up. Even under the most generous reading, no one was in the mood yet to celebrate anything.

The request for a quiet meeting of the JCS had gone out a week or two earlier - one of their number felt that a low-key, unofficial meeting was necessary to discuss matters that still hung over their head from the Sakhalin War, and that some very frank things were going to be said - that should be understood from the beginning. If everyone wasn't ready to face this, then the meeting would be forgotten and that would be the end of it. All things considered, Memorial Day at the CJCS' home - a quiet Sunday barbeque - would probably be the perfect occasion for it.

Church that morning at National Cathedral was pretty much mandatory, as was the traditional wreath laying at Arlington. President Stevenson, to his credit, marched manfully through the service, ignoring the boos from outside the cemetery. He made a speech that was short and mercifully free of his former pleas for peace and disarmament. Admiral Julian Wingard, the new CNO, had looked out from a face marked by scars and an eye patch and simultaneously hoped that Stevenson would just keep his mouth shut and that he would say something, anything, that would give every last uniform there an excuse to walk out of the cemetery. It was hard to explain to anyone the - well, hatred that the armed forces had for Stevenson and his government right now. The near total surprise of the Sakhalin War and the loss of the Shenandoah had been bad enough, but the discovery that either the SecWar or SecState was a Soviet agent…The topper had been the political bargain the JCS had to agree to in order to avoid a constitutional crisis: Someone in the military had to take the fall too since MacNamara had gone down, and Brian Shannon had been the lamb.

Wingard listened to the rattle of leather and fittings as the tomb guards came to attention and Stevenson followed a huge wreath down to the tomb of the WWI Unknown. Shannon had been old guard enough to take it, knowing that he was saving the country from a crisis that would have torn it apart. That didn't make it any easier on the men who'd made the deal, though they all knew Shannon held no grudge towards them. They'd let one of their own down, and it hurt.

General Charles Blair, Chief of Staff, United States Army, glared silently out over the ceremony from a tanned, leathery face that seemed to have a wrinkle for every one of his sixty-three years. Shannon's disgrace had especially hurt him…it had almost physically sickened him to watch his son-in-law blamed for something he not only hadn't been at fault for, but had actually managed to save despite the best efforts of his own government. Blair had his retirement papers in, and for the first time since he'd hit the Plain at West Point in 1914, he hated it. He didn't really want to see even one more politician hide behind a wreath. And he definitely didn't want to see any more wreaths.

General Lewis Puller, Commandant, United States Marine Corps, was ramrod straight and silent as Stevenson turned and strode back to the podium where he'd make his remarks. None of the JCS had offered to make any remarks today - quite frankly, none of them wanted to say or do anything that could even be remotely construed as supporting Stevenson. The new SecWar - a nonentity who was simply a placeholder until after the elections next year - had made a pathetic attempt to get the JCS to show at least a little public support for Stevenson at one meeting. Puller - who could and had frozen grown men with a glare - would never forget the icy stares that had quickly silenced the man. There hadn't been another meeting with the SecWar since.

At the end of the row was the solid, squarely built figure of General Curtis LeMay, Chief of Staff, United States Air Force. It had been the Air Force - and the Strategic Air Command that LeMay had forged in his own image - that had managed to stun the Soviets long enough for the Navy and Marines to get in and turn the tide, but it had also been LeMay who had led the JCS to confront MacNamara and Hiss. It had also been LeMay who had put MacNamara in the hospital, but that part was always discreetly overlooked. The Secret Service guys swore they had been defending the President and they saw nothing, and the FBI - reluctantly - had to believe them.

General Matthew Ridgeway, USA and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, had walked beside Stevenson as he placed the wreath before the Unknown, taking a moment to look at the shining white marble and its eternal inscription:

HERE RESTS IN
HONORED GLORY
AN AMERICAN SOLDIER
KNOWN BUT TO GOD

Ridgeway's throat caught for a moment as he remembered that as of Friday afternoon, more than one thousand American soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines were known but to God in the cold North Pacific on and around Sakhalin Island. Thank you, President Adlai Stevenson.
The ride back to the CJCS's quarters at Fort Myers was quiet, and even once the generals had changed into civilian clothes everyone was subdued. That changed, slowly but steadily, as hamburgers and hot dogs came off the grill and they began to tell stories and old soldiers' tales. They'd told them a thousand times and heard them even more often, but it brought some semblance of normality to a very bad day. Finally, Ridgeway discreetly told the stewards to knock off for a bit and get their own dinner - and take their time. The stewards - mostly Filipinos any more -had been around long enough to know that something far above their pay grade was going on, and if the gods tell you to go get a hamburger and enjoy a few hours off, then it wasn't your place to argue.

Ridgeway made sure all the doors were closed then sat down and took a bite out of a hot dog. "So, Curt," Ridgeway said around his food, "I gather there's something you want to say." LeMay nodded, slowly exhaling a cloud of Cuban cigar smoke into the air. "Matt," LeMay replied, "there's a lot of things I want to say, most of which are damned uncomplimentary to our elected leadership." The rest laughed, but LeMay didn't even smile, and that immediately got everyone's attention. LeMay's reputation was one of glacial brevity and authority, but those who knew him knew he was a truly warm, gentle man who loved a good laugh. Curt LeMay wasn't smiling, wasn't laughing. Instead, he turned to Blair and asked, "Charlie, how's Brian doing?"

Blair nodded. "He's okay. He's back on his feet, and Marie's not letting him just sit around. The kids are home and keeping him occupied - on the direct order of their grandfather." Blair gave something approximating a smile for the first time in weeks.

Wingard inclined his head towards the conversation. "I talked to him last week, Curt. He's going to take over as Superintendent at the Academy this summer. The job's his for life if he wants it."

LeMay nodded sagely. "Glad to hear it. Sorry to hear that a five star admiral - a two time winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor - is, for the time being, in public disgrace."

Chesty Puller took a swig of the beer he clutched in one powerful hand, and then said, "Curt, we've been all over this way too many times. We did…what we had to do."

"Fair enough," LeMay agreed. "Then it follows that we have a duty to insure that the events that led to this mess never - and I mean, never - happen again." LeMay took another pull on the cigar, and then looked around the room. "Gentlemen, I am about to propose what I feel must be done to correct this. If anyone disagrees with me - if anyone feels that they cannot in good faith listen to what I have to propose…then I ask you to say so at once. When you do so, I will cease speaking. I will also resign my commission, effective immediately."

Not a word was spoken, but after a moment there were silent nods from everyone present. This wasn't a man who'd say those words lightly. LeMay thought for a moment, and then spoke quietly but firmly. "Gentlemen, let's look - calmly and rationally - at what happened last December."

Charlie Blair growled, "Stevenson pissed his panties when Mac or Hiss told him to."

LeMay smiled slightly, but not much. "True enough, Charlie. But let's call it what it was: the President of the United States, urged and advised by his secretaries of State and War, was going to refuse to defend this country under attack. And under the law of the land, and our Constitutional duties and responsibilities…there would have been nothing we could have done to prevent it. Had Beria ordered a full strike, and Stevenson continued to refuse to do anything, we had no authority to launch a retaliatory - or preemptive - strike. Almost certainly a few individual commanders would have launched on their own, but they would have been ragged…uncoordinated…too late. I ran the numbers. We would have lost a third of our population in a full attack, at the very least. The Soviets…perhaps ten, fifteen million."

Wingard shook his head. "Curt, no nation on earth could take a sudden hit like that. They'd have come unglued and stayed that way."
LeMay shook his head. "They would stay together through sheer force of will - and force of the military. And in any event, their second-strike force would have been mostly intact. It really wouldn't have mattered if they couldn't control most of their own country - they would still have had a larger army and more nuclear weapons than the British, the French, the Canadians, and the Chinese put together, and the ability to get things put back together." LeMay paused for a moment to let that sink in. No one doubted the loyalty of the Alliance but if they were outnumbered and outgunned without the US, they would do whatever was necessary to protect their people. And if that meant laying down their weapons, they'd do it.

Ridgeway considered this, and then asked, "Are you proposing a change to the rules - something where more people in the chain would have the authority to launch?"

LeMay shook his head. "Congress wouldn't touch that idea for about a dozen reasons, not least of which is that thanks to the way Truman had things set up, we have an unwritten law that allows only the President to release nuclear weapons. It's never been codified, but it's become unbreakable policy. No one would want to challenge the White House on this, especially right now. The White House wouldn't allow it for fear of compromising future Presidents."

Puller leaned forward. "Curt, I don't quite understand - we've got a drill for dealing with what happens if the President is killed or incapacitated."

"I'm talking about if the President is still alive."

There was a stunned silence before Ridgeway literally gasped, "Christ, Curt, you're talking about mutiny."

LeMay shook his head. "No, I'm not. I'm talking about a situation where the President refuses to acknowledge or respond to an incoming strike. That's called a contingency, Matt - not a mutiny. It's a possible event, like a Soviet invasion of Germany, or a revolution in Mexico. And we have a professional and military duty to prepare for any contingency - I mean, for God's sake, they still update War Plan Red every year, even though the last place we'd want to invade is Canada."

Ridgeway had to smile at that; in his personal files he had a copy of Canada's Defense Scheme 1, the plan to invade the US first if it looked like we were about to invade. But he saw LeMay's point, and as always it was blunt and direct - something had to be done and done with absolute legality, but it had to be done. LeMay though continued. " I propose that we - and when I say 'we', I mean the men in this room - address a possible contingency of…National Command Authority failure."

Blair leaned forward. "Assuming we were willing to address this contingency…what would we be looking at?"

LeMay never blinked. "We'd need to keep those able to give an order to activate this plan to an absolute minimum - I'd say the CJCS and CINCSAC."

Wingard said coldly, "Any particular reason the Navy wouldn't have a hand in this?"

LeMay held up a calming hand. "Julian, I mean no disrespect. The fact is though that only the missile subs are even part of the deterrent. As long as the ICBMs and bombers are two legs of the triad, then CINCSAC will have overall command of the nuclear forces. And the more people who are in on this, the harder it will be to keep secret." Wingard nodded, more out of acknowledgement of the logic than in agreement.

"In any event," LeMay continued, "We'd also need a comm. system - completely outside of the standard C3 lines. It'd have the benefit of being another backup to the normal system if everything was going right."

"Who decides?" Chesty Puller's bark cut through the room like a knife.

LeMay never missed a beat. "'Who watches the Watchmen?' It's a risk we have to take that the men who hold those posts will be intelligent and loyal enough to make the call if they have to."

"Setting you - and your successors - up as judge, jury, and executioner on the Constitution."

"The Constitution isn't a suicide pact, Lew. The people elect the President on the assumption that the he and the men he appoints to his cabinet will act in their best interests and defend them. If they don't - if they act the way Stevenson and Mac and Hiss did, we can NOT " - the famous LeMay bark snapped through the room like a gunshot - "just sit there and let them serve as judge, jury, and executioners on two hundred and ten million people!"

"He's right." Julian Wingard's Maine accent rang in their ears although his voice was gentle and firm. "We came within, what - an hour at most of watching an incoming Soviet strike appear, and if we had followed our orders and our oaths…there would have been nothing we could have done except watch it." Wingard paused, then looked around and said, "No. Never again. Either the politicians live up to their oaths, or we figure out some way to keep it from happening. I guarantee that if there's a second time…we won't have the luxury of figuring out what went wrong. If we're lucky, we'll be on the run. If we're not, we'll be dead." Wingard's voice was calm, but his eye was blazing. He was in that room only because Brian Shannon was taking the heat for Stevenson's mistakes.

Puller was about to say something else when Ridgeway quietly said, "Enough." Everyone in the room looked up as Ridgeway continued, "I noticed no one has asked Curt to stop. And I'm not going to myself." Ridgeway rose, folding his arms and looking around the room before saying, "I think it's time we headed home. Lots of work to do this week - good day, gentlemen." Ridgeway hurriedly added, "General LeMay, please stay for a few." The others exchanged knowing glances and exchanged a round of perfunctory goodbyes as they filed out, LeMay sat back down as the door closed and Ridgeway looked out the window at the quiet, peaceful garden of stone that rolled down to the Potomac, and behind that the panorama of Washington. There was silence for a few moments before Ridgeway spoke.

"Robert Lee once said that it was good that war was so terrible, lest we become too fond of it. I'd like to believe that we got this view to remind us of that." LeMay rose and stood beside Ridgeway before responding, "Lee knew what the hell he was talking about. If I remember correctly, he oversaw the worst one day casualty count of any American force in history."

Ridgeway nodded. "Ten thousand, and change, according to my professors at the Point. Gawd, the Pas de Calais and Sagami Bay weren't that bad."

LeMay was silent for a moment, then replied, "We'd have lost ten times that many every second if that attack had come through. And there wouldn't have been any historians around to tell our side of the story, or analyze why we screwed it up. We'd be as dead as the Egyptians, or the Romans. Maybe a few thousand years later, somebody might be able to come ashore and look around…but more than likely not. We wouldn't even leave something like the pyramids or the Forum behind…just rubble."

Ridgeway's brow was furrowed, his gaze straight ahead at the dome of the Capitol, glowing in the May sun. They didn't have the slightest idea. Not one of them. They knew there had been a war, that we'd won, and that they'd been less than an hour from eternity. They didn't know that the President of the United States had categorically refused to defend them.

Ridgeway never turned away from the window.

"Staff it," the CJCS said. "Keep me posted."

"Yessir," LeMay replied. He thought for a moment and then said, "It'll need a code name. That'll be more of a help than a hindrance - there's so many of the damned things out there today that nobody'll notice one more."

Ridgeway had to smile in agreement with that. "So ordered, General LeMay."

"Call it OPLAN Corregidor."

[jemhouston]

What happened at Sakhalin?

[Craiglxviii]

I missed so much of TIPOTS…

[Craiglxviii]

Look what I found…

[Lordroel]

Look what I found…

Where is the bloody like button when you need it.

[Hog]

TIPOTS lives. :-0

[James1978]

What happened at Sakhalin?

Described in the US Presidents Addendum under Adlai E. Stevenson.
Short version: the USSR tested a weak POTUS with a Commie in the Cabinet, resulting in a localized shooting war between the USSR and the US/Japan. US and Japanese forces came out on top, but it was a close thing.

[jemhouston]

What happened at Sakhalin?

Described in the US Presidents Addendum under Adlai E. Stevenson.
Short version: the USSR tested a weak POTUS with a Commie in the Cabinet, resulting in a localized shooting war between the USSR and the US/Japan. US and Japanese forces came out on top, but it was a close thing.

Thanks