Chapter 350.

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Matt W.

*

D+22

*


0305 hours GMT. Signal from COMSOUTHEAST to CINCSOUTH.
‘Soviet forces have pushed through the outer Greek and Turkish border defences in the Maritsa River sector. Enemy casualties are reported to be high, but this has not slowed their advance. The Turkish city of Edirne is now under siege. The commander of the 1st Turkish Army has chosen to leave the defence of Edirne to local fortress forces, with mobile troops falling back to more defensible terrain in preparation for local counterattacks.
‘Greek forces have withdrawn to the outskirts of Orestiada. The commander of the Greek 1st Army has also chosen to leave the defence of fixed positions to local forces, holding mobile armoured units in reserve.

‘One event to note is that some Greek troops defending Kastanies were cut off by the advancing Warsaw Pact forces and their only line of retreat was into Turkey. These troops were welcomed by the defenders of Edirne and have now joined the defence of that city.

‘Deployment of reserves has been complicated by severe pressure on the entirety of the Greco-Turkish border with Bulgaria. Mobile reserves have had to be maintained in several locations (see Appendix A), to meet possible breakthroughs.

‘It is imperative that additional mobile armoured/mechanized reserves are dispatched to Thrace. Additional air support also vital. Without rapid reinforcement, it is possible that a breakthrough will be achieved at some point in the Thrace sector.’

0310 hours GMT. Signal from COMLANDSOUTH to CINCSOUTH.
‘Forces in ITALAG and AUSTAG are coming under increasing pressure, especially in the former’s sector in western Slovenia. All signs are pointing to a major offensive being launched in the next 24-48 hours. Current assessment is that ITALAG and AUSTAG forces should be capable of meeting and holding any enemy offensives. However, I would like to request permission to release COMLANDSOUTH reserves to meet any potential need. Would like to request that suitable forces from CINCSOUTH reserve be assigned to OPCON LANDSOUTH to replace released reserve forces.

***

‘FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.

‘Heavy Soviet attack has been launched against 5th Army Corps. Defensive positions are currently being held, but some units have been forced to retreat in some sectors. Units of 3rd Army Corps have been placed on standby to provide reinforcements. Commander of 5th Army Corps has requested priority for air support.’


0335 hours GMT. H.Q Allied Forces Southern Europe, Naples, Italy.
“F*ck! Sh*t! P*ss! Motherf**er!” Admiral Clark exclaimed after reading both signals and the latest intelligence that had reached his headquarters.

He looked at his Chief of Staff and the three officers from the intelligence staff who were in his office. They had already blanched at the stream of obscenities that had come out of his mouth. The Admiral was not known for swearing too often, but when he did, it meant the excrement had hit the fan.

“The f*cking Soviets have double-teamed us! F*cked us front and back, gentlemen!” He continued. “Those clever b*stards made it look like either of their thrusts could have been real, or fake! Turns out both of them are goddam real!”

He paused to throw a signal form down onto his desk.

“Worst of it is, I ignored warnings from my subordinate commanders and my own staff! I Motherf**king knew better! General Baker is going to have my ass, then take my head and stick it on a f*cking pike! And he’ll be goddam right to do so!”

Clark gave the other four officers a hard stare.

“I need options, gentlemen and fast. We need to react to both enemy offensives. I don’t care about my own ass, but we need to halt the Soviets.”
“The greatest risk is in Thrace, Admiral.” The Chief of Staff opined. “There are plenty of friendly reserves in northern Italy that can reinforce either the Italian, or Austrian Army Groups. The converse is true in Thrace. The Greeks and Turks need rapid reinforcement and now.”
“What do we have available?” CINCSOUTH asked.

The Chief of Staff looked at the senior intelligence officer.

“We should move the rump of the AMF (Land) and (Air) to Thrace immediately. I would also recommend moving the AFSOUTH Amphibious Force. If necessary, it can land its marines to reinforce troops on shore. The 173rd Airborne Brigade should also be put on standby for deployment to Thrace.”

The Italian Colonel paused to consult a folder he was holding.

“The British are sending additional troops to Cyprus. We should request that they send a battalion group to Thrace and…I believe there are a number of US troops in transit in Turkish Thrace; they’re supposed to be heading to eastern Turkey. I recommend grabbing them and incorporating them into provisional units.
“The Spanish 1st Armoured Division should also be diverted to Greece or Turkey depending on how things play out.”
“How about our position in Slovenia and eastern Italy? Should we reinforce Trieste, for example?”

The Chief of Staff nodded.

“I think we should create a Trieste Defence Command, Admiral. We can form it out of the resources of the Northeastern and Tuscan-Emilian Military Regions. The Reggimento San Marco should be held back as immediate reinforcement for Trieste, and we should make preliminary plans to start evacuating civilians from the city and surrounding area.”
“Okay, let’s do all of that.” Admiral Clark ordered. “Dismissed, gentlemen. I have a call to SACEUR to make. I’m going to keep my fingers crossed he doesn't nuke my ass.”

0445 hours GMT. West of Lüneburg, West Germany.
“Damn, somebody on their side is better than we thought.” Colonel O’Connell observed as he looked at the map display in the rear of his M3A3.

Two Soviet thrusts to the north and south of the location of his ‘tac H.Q’ had cut it off, along with 1st Squadron’s Bandit Troop and parts of two infantry companies from 6 Royal Anglian Regiment. The squadron’s H.Q, plus C Troop, D Company and D Artillery Battery had rendezvoused with the rest of the 3 ACR, which had pulled back behind the southern ‘shoulder’. Apache Troop was now under the command of the Anglians.

“Okay, we’re cut-off, that’s the bad news.” O’Connell stated. “The good news is that we’re still within range of friendly artillery and air support, and we’re still in comms. Resources wise, we’re not too badly off either.” The Colonel paused to remind himself of what had made it into the pocket. “We’ve got ten Abrams, fifteen Bradleys, two mortar carriers, plus about a dozen ‘113s. Added to that we have around one hundred and thirty British infantrymen. We’re also in a good position tactically, the terrain is good for all-round defence. So long as we have enough ammo, we should be able to hold out until someone comes to get us.”
“I think we should create a QRF made up of some of the Abrams and Bradleys, Colonel.” The captain who commanded Bandit Troop suggested. “I’d suggest using the two H.Q tanks, plus four Bradleys. Maybe put some of the Brits in the ‘113s with Javelin?”

O’Connell nodded.

“Let’s do that. Let’s also request a FASCAM fire mission to cover the most likely approaches the Soviets might take. Is there anything we’ve forgotten?”
“Excuse me, Sir.” Major Norman ‘Jeremy’ Clarkson, who was the senior British officer, pipped up. He was the Officer Commanding B (Bedfordshire) Company, 6 Royal Anglian Regiment. “Where do you want my lads to dig in?”

The British contingent was made up of two platoons from B Company, along with part of company H.Q, a platoon and a half from Gurkha Company Catterick and an anti-tank section from Support Company.

O’Connell looked at the map. There were a few good areas for infantry to dig in within the perimeter, where it would be difficult for armoured vehicles to access.

“I need you to put a platoon here, here, and here. You happy to put your anti-tank section with a couple of squads…sorry, its sections you call them, isn’t it…in APCs?”
“Absolutely, Sir.” Clarkson replied. “I want to keep a half platoon of Gurkhas with me as a reserve.”
“That’s fine, Major.” O’Connell confirmed. “I’m going to send a few people from this H.Q over to your company H.Q. You’re the next senior officer in this pocket. If the Soviets take out this H.Q, you should take over.”
“Yes, Sir.” The British Major confirmed.

Clarkson pretended not to notice the surprise on the face of the captain who commanded Bandit Troop. He had evidently assumed he was the next in line, rather than the British major.

*

The American cavalrymen had passed through the positions of the Fife & Forfar Yeomanry Battle Group in good order. The ‘Jocks’ of G Company Group had watched with envious eyes as the American armoured vehicles had disappeared to the south.

It did not take long for the first Soviet armoured vehicles to appear. While the 4th Guards Tank Army had been ordered to push west to link up with the 2nd Guards, it had also been ordered to widen the corridor by pushing south against British and American armoured forces. It had also been ordered not to push north against the Hamburg defences. The last thing the army needed was to get embroiled in urban combat.

The troops bearing down on the Fife & Forfar Yeomanry were from the 215th Guards Tank Regiment, part of the 90th Guards Tank Division. It had approximately ninety T-80s and fifty BMP-2s, compared to the forty-two Challenger 2s and fourteen Warriors that the British possessed. G Company’s ten Warriors and six Challenger 2s faced a reinforced enemy tank battalion of thirty T-80s and ten BMP-2s.

Or at least they would have, had 6th Armoured Division’s engineers not had time to lay a significant minefield in front of its forward units. To thicken the minefield, one of the MLRS regiments from 2nd Artillery Brigade now dropped AT-2 anti-tank mines. The other two regiments fired anti-tank munitions, while the division’s AS90 regiments fired a mix of H.E and smoke. The artillery barrage briefly lifted to allow Apaches and Harriers to make their own attack.

While most of the 4th GTA continued to push west, the 90th GTD soon found itself hung up on the defences of the 6th Armoured Division, while simultaneously being pounded by artillery and air attack. A brief artillery duel took place, but for once, Soviet gunners found themselves outnumbered by the British and American gunners; the artillery of 3rd ACR had joined the engagement; and were largely silenced.

*

Captain Fraser lowered his binoculars and rubbed his eyes. With all the smoke from both friendly artillery rounds and burning enemy vehicles, he could not see much with the ‘Mark 1 eyeball’. Instead, he dropped down into his Warrior’s turret and used its thermal sights instead. What he could see through them was almost as bad, heat from burning tanks and BMPs almost overwhelming the sight. However, he did spot one group of T-80s confidently advancing towards his company group.

“Looks like the Russians think they have found a lane through the minefield.” He remarked.
“Och, those bams will find oot soon enough, Boss.” His gunner replied, a slightly disturbing grin on his face.

The T-80s very soon found out that they had not, in fact, discovered a clear lane, but instead had entered a cul-de-sac. The leading tanks ran over buried Bar Mines, disabling, or knocking them out. As the others manoeuvred to try and get around the disabled vehicles, they too struck mines. Even pulling back was now longer an option, a battery of MLRS having dropped AT-2 mines behind them. The trapped tanks were now perfect targets for the six Challengers attached to G Company, who began to rapidly pick them off, until none were left.

‘LOOK TO YOUR FRONT. ENEMY DISMOUNTS TRYING TO PUSH THROUGH THE MINEFIELD.’

Rather than use voice and potentially be located by the Soviets, Fraser had sent out a quick text message. He was sure his men had spotted the enemy infantry and engineers already, but it never hurt to send a warning.

The Soviet infantry had discovered the hard way that amongst the Bar Mines were Ranger and Elsie anti-personnel mines. They had halted and waited for engineers to clear a way forward. The engineers were, of course, horribly exposed while they cleared the mines and well within British small-arms range, never mind the co-axial machine-guns of the Challengers and Warriors.

The commander of the Soviet battalion now committed his reserve, including a T-80 fitted with a mine plough, while requesting assistance from regiment. The mine plough fitted tank initially did very well, making its way forward through the British minefield for some distance. Its non-plough fitted brethren providing covering fire. The good progress ended when the tank was taken out by an L14A1 directional anti-tank mine, not only knocking the T-80 out, but also blocking the lane it had cleared. [1]

The regimental commander, despairing of making any progress against the British defences, promptly sacked the battalion commanders who had requested assistance, ordering them to make their way to the front. The unsaid message was that they should seek to get themselves killed. That done, he ordered his regiment to halt and screen the British positions. If he could not push them back, he could at least prevent them from directly interfering with the advance.

0531 hours GMT. Near Paradise, Massachusetts, USA.
“You join me from just outside of the sleepy north-eastern Massachusetts town of Paradise. Or, at least what’d left of it. Far from being a Paradise, the town is now a kind of Hell.” The CBS 4 correspondent said into the camera.

He was the first TV correspondent to reach Paradise and his live broadcast was being syndicated by WBZ-TV to its parent company, CBS News.

“Just over twenty-four hours ago, two Russian missiles, apparently fired by a submarine struck Paradise, causing massive damage, and starting what can only be described as a firestorm. Why the Russians chose to attack a sleepy coastal town can only be guessed at. Perhaps, it was intended to be similar to the terror bombing we’ve recently seen in Europe.
“From what I have seen the emergency services of Paradise and the surrounding communities are fighting to contain a fire that is beyond their collective resources. From what sources who have asked to remain anonymous have told me, all fire, rescue and EMT resources in this area have now been committed to this incident. Yet, it is still not enough to bring the firestorm under control. The question that must be asked is ‘where is the Boston Fire Department’? My sources have told me that authorities in Boston have failed to respond to requests for assistance, citing a fear of further attacks. However, without help from Boston, Paradise will be lost and the communities of Swampscott, Lynn, Clifton, and Marblehead and even Salem will be at risk. Not to mention the significant loss of life in Paradise itself.”

*

“Looks like that busybody was useful for something after all.” Chief Stone said, as he and Fire Chief Brooks watched a small TV in the command vehicle provided by one of the neighbouring fire departments.

A second command vehicle from the Massachusetts State Police had been parked next to the first one and an awning spread over the space between them. Additional communications equipment had been set up on tables under the awning.

“I don’t like leaking to the press, Jesse.” Brooks replied. “Makes me feel dirty.”
“If it saves lives, it was worth it, Lester. I don’t like shaming Boston into sending help either.”

Captain Healey stuck he head into the command vehicle, interrupting the conversation.

“Tewksbury is on the horn for you two.” He said.

Stone and Brooks followed Healey out to where the radio link to the Tewksbury Emergency Operations Centre was set up.

“Tewksbury EOC, this is Paradise Command Post, Fire Chief Brooks speaking. I understand that you have an update for us, over?”
“Paradise Command Post, Tewksbury EOC here. I don’t know what you did, Chief, but Framingham has managed to persuade Boston to despatch fire, rescue and EMT resources. What they will be sending is still subject to confirmation, but we understand that some of what they will be sending you will be coming by sea. Is Paradise Harbour still accessible, over?”
“I’m glad to hear we’re finally getting help from the Big City.” Brooks replied. “Standby on the harbour.” The Fire Chief looked across to one of his firefighters, who nodded. “The harbour is still accessible, Tewksbury, but anyone landing there will be trapped against the water by the fire front, over.”
“That’s received, Chief Brooks. Help is on its way. Tewksbury out.”

Brooks looked up at Stone and Healey.

“Looks like Framingham and Boston finally got their collective heads out of their asses. I wonder what the plan is with the harbour?”

Before either of the cops could give an opinion, they were interrupted by the sound of an approaching helicopter.

“That’ll be Med Flight coming in for the latest batch of casualties for the Burns Unit at St. Eligius. At least the hospitals in Boston haven’t sat on their asses.” Stone commented.

0540 GMT. USS Kitty Hawk, the Arabian Gulf.
Commander Matt Wiser came into the VA-115 Ready Room, and for once, he was actually pleased with his draw for the first mission of the morning. Normally, he would be right behind the Skipper, drawing the 0630 launch, but today, for whatever reason, the ATO Gods had smiled. He and his flight had drawn a 0645 launch, right after a VA-185-led package, and he wondered if Tony Carpenter's hand had been at work. No matter, and if Tony had? That was something the Ops Officer could do, and he himself had done it more than once since D-Day, so he decided not to ask. Tony could tell him later, if the new Ops Officer decided, Guru thought, as he went to his office.

There, he checked to see if there was any paperwork that required his immediate attention. No matter what, the elves never cleared it away overnight, and some papers that he had left the night before were still there. Nothing that was really important, and a couple that the XO merely signed “For the Commanding Officer” and left those in the OUT box before he went in for the brief.

When he got there, he found his own flight, along with Lieutenant Commander Kathy Evision and her flight from the Dambusters of VFA-195, and Lieutenants Paula Mobley and Kara Wade and their wingmates from VF-154, along with a Prowler crew from VAQ-136. The crews were making the usual small talk when the XO came in but quieted down when he got to the lectern.

“Okay, people, settle down. In case you haven't heard by now, there is a PGM shortage. We are out of JDAM kits and running low on kits for Paveways and also SLAM missiles. There's enough HARMs and Mavericks still, but that can change anytime, so let's get that out of the way right now.”
“We're back to 1991 in terms of bombs, in other words.” Lieutenant Bryan Rivers, who was the XO's wingman, said. And it wasn't a question.

Guru looked at his B/N, Madge Porter, who nodded. He had told her the same thing the day before. Then he looked at Rivers.

“Bryan, you said it. I didn't.”
“So, we're all carrying dumb bombs?” Tony Carpenter asked

Guru shook his head.

“No, Tony, and we're going to have a mixed load.” He nodded at an Ops Petty Officer who showed the target, first a JOG map, then overhead imagery. “Here's where we're going: Amarra Ammo Storage.”
“Haven't we been here before?” Lieutenant (j.g.) Chris Knapp, who was the Ops Officer's wingman, noted.
“We have, Chris, and so have other folks.” The XO said.

He nodded at the Ops Officer.

“There's still intact storage bunkers, and you and I each have a bunker and two GBU-10Is to take them out.”
“Or take them up.” The Ops Officer noted dryly.

“And the wingies?” Bryan Rivers asked.
“You and Chris -” Guru nodded at Knapp. “Have a dozen Mark-82s. Go for either warehouses or revetted ammo storage.” He paused, then continued. “Every A-6 also has a centreline bag, and single AIM-9 and -120. Kathy?”

Lieutenant Commander Kathy Evision came up to the lectern as the XO stood by.

“IRON HAND has two different loads. First element has two HARMs and four Rockeyes. Second pair has two HARMs and four Mark-82s. If we have ordnance left after the A-6s clear? We drop on the ammo storage.”
“Or the airfield.” Guru said. “That's an authorized opportunity target, and it applies to my people: if you can't ID a drop point due to the target being obscured, even on FLIR? Drop on the airfield.”

The XO meant Amarra New Airfield, which was a dual civilian-military facility.

Heads nodded at that.

“Tomcats?” Lieutenant Paula Mobley asked.
“You guys orbit just west of Amarra, and the nearest MiGs or Mirages are at Ubaydah Bin-Al Jarrah at Kut. If they show? Do bad things to party-crashers.”
“So how do we get there?” Rivers asked.
“Straight up the Shatt-al-Arab.” Guru said. “Go past Basra and follow the Tigris River between the river and Iran-and don't be surprised if the Iranians follow us from their side.”

Iranian F-4s or F-5s had followed strikes against targets near the Iranian border as a matter of course, and nobody expected that to change.

“We go past the target area,” Guru continued, “Do a 180, and come down on it. Once you're clear? Same way out.”
“Defences?”
“Says here three batteries 57-mm, all of which are radar-guided, and at least two of 37-mm along with those quad 14.5 machine-gun mounts the Iraqis like. There's also MANPADS, and the SA-2 site is reported non-operational, but if it does come up? You Prowler guys take it off the air, and Kathy? You guys shut it down-permanently.”

Both Evision and the Prowler crew nodded.

“If you are hit, people, by any type of defences? Head east, into Iran if at all possible. We won't be that far, and just get across the border, call a MAYDAY on GUARD, and the Iranians will pick you up after bailout. We've had one crew from 185 experience Iranian hospitality, and they had no complaints, if that's what you're wondering. You'll stay for probably twelve to twenty-four hours before they let CENTAF send a bird to pick you up.”

Chris Knapp raised his hand.

“And how much of a turnaround will we get, XO?”
“Not much. OPSEC applies, but we'll have maybe an hour, maybe an hour and a half. Anything else?” Guru saw heads shake no. “All right. Gear up, because we've got somewhere to be and people and things to burn, bleed, and blow up. Meet up at ten grand overhead. Let's hit it.”

After that, the crews headed to their respective squadron life support areas, where helmets, G-Suits, survival vests, and harnesses were waiting. Then it was time to head to the Flight Deck.

Guru and Madge found their mount, 505, prepped and ready. They went through the preflight walk-around, before mounting the aircraft and getting settled into the cockpit. After putting on their helmets, they went through the preflight checklist before Guru started engines.

“Ready?” He asked Madge.
“Another day in the KTO.” Madge replied as the Skipper's package trapped, one bird at a time. “And they pay us for this?”

Guru winced beneath his oxygen mask.

“Not much,” he said.

After getting taxi clearance, he taxied the A-6F to Cat One. As usual, any choreographer for a Broadway show or Olympics Ceremony would've been amazed to see how things went. An HH-60H was off the bow as plane guard, then Guru got the “taxi” signal to go onto the cat. His cat bar was down and locked, and the deck crew made sure all was ready before the Cat Officer gave him the signal to firewall his engines.

Guru did just that, running his engines to full throttle, then he snapped a salute. The Cat Officer gave the signal to the shooter, who engaged the catapult. Outlaw 505 shot down the cat and into the air, with 507 following on Cat Two. It wasn't long before the rest of the package was in the air, and after forming up, Guru told the package, “Let's head over the beach.”

0555 hours GMT. Northwest of Kastanies, Greece.
Captain Valentin Zelensky, a company commander in the Independent Tank Regiment of the 8th Tank Army, paced up and down impatiently beside his T-64BV1K. The retreating Greek Army had blown up the bridge over the Arda River, cleverly planting time delayed charges that had gone off after the leading Soviet and Bulgarian troops had crossed over. Soviet engineers were now working to complete a new bridge so that follow on forces could continue the now stalled advance.

Zelensky kept looking up, expecting to see NATO attack aircraft or helicopters appear any moment to massacre his company. Finally, an engineer officer came running along the line of tanks yelling that the bridge was finished and that everybody should mount up.

“Finally.” Zelensky muttered, stubbing out a cigarette and climbing up into the commander’s hatch of his tank.

*

After half an hour of driving down the E85, Zelensky spotted the first signs of the fierce fighting that had been taking place. Four burned out T-72s, their turrets blown off, lay by the side of the road, of their crews there was no sign. A short distance away sat a knocked out Greek Leopard 1A5, one of the ones upgraded with the L44 120mm gun, by the look of the drooping barrel. Zelensky stared at the Greek tank as he drove past, it had been hit at least four times, two of the shots penetrating its armour. The smell of burnt flesh came from the Leopard 1, indicating that the remains of its crew were still inside.

Seeing destroyed Soviet tanks did not particularly concern the captain. They were T-72s, in his opinion a cheaper, inferior tank to his upgraded T-64. His tank was better protected and more likely to survive being hit. Zelensky had also told himself that if his tank was penetrated, it would not suffer a catastrophic turret explosion.

The sound of gunfire brought him back to reality. Motor rifle troops had pushed into Orestiada and were fighting Greek troops who had fortified many of the city’s buildings to augment the existing fixed defences that protected it.

Zelensky found his company being flagged down by Traffic Regulators and being directed to use the fields to the west of the road. As his T-64 came level with the officer in charge of the detachment, Zelensky leaned down from his hatch.

“What’s going on, Comrade Junior Lieutenant?”
“Can’t use the highway, Comrade Captain. Damned Greeks are shooting anti-tank missiles out of the city at anything that tries to use it.”

The captain quickly checked his map board as his tank moved off and cursed those who had sent them to the west of Orestiada, rather than the east. Unless they went some distance to the west, there were a series of villages and settlements straggling along a road running west from the southern part of the city which they would have to try and push between. Zelensky doubted that the Greeks were stupid enough not to have fortified them and placed mobile armoured forces in reserve to deal with any breakthroughs.

“Black Swan, Black Swan, this is Red Queen. Halt your company at Objective Diamond, acknowledge, over.” A voice said in Zelensky’s headset.

He was Black Swan, while Red Queen was the call-sign for battalion headquarters.

“Red Queen, Black Swan, acknowledge, Will halt at Objective Diamond and wait for further orders, over.”

Something was evidently up if battalion headquarters wanted him to halt, rather than to keep pressing forward, trying to find a gap in the enemy defences, however small, to exploit.

0601 hours GMT. Port of Boston, Massachusetts.
“I need you to represent the squadron at the JSTF meeting, Eric.” Lieutenant Eric Harry’s Commanding Officer had told him. “Take Malone with you. It’ll be a good learning experience for him. Unity needs to take on fuel anyway.”

*

Like most major ports in the United States, the Massachusetts Port Authority had established a Joint Security Task Force to enhance protection for the Port of Boston and the other properties it owned and operated. Namely Logan International Airport and Hanscom Field. Organisations represented on the JSTF included the Coast Guard, Navy, Army National Guard, Naval Militia, FBI, DEA, BATF, Port Police, and State Police. The Boston Police Department also assigned officers as liaison to the JSTF, even though the department had no jurisdiction on Massport property.

*

As Harry and Malone availed themselves of the coffee and bagels on offer before taking their seats, they could not help but notice that the various agency personnel had formed little groups. The military and Coast Guard were together in one, the Federal agents in another, while the state, city and port cops formed a third. The exception was a small group of four people, one wore a State Police raid jacket, two others were clearly BPD officers, while the four, the one who stood out, was a tall, bald Staff Sergeant of the Army National Guard, who wore an MP brassard.

“Hey, I know that state cop.” Lieutenant (J.G) Malone observed. “Names Spenser. Used to be a boxer, a pretty good one too.”
“Oh, yeah.” Harry replied. “I remember watching him fight. He was pretty good as I remember. I thought he was a P.I now. Anyway, let’s go and say ‘hi’.”

The group turned as Harry and Malone approached.

“You’re the ex-boxer Jim Spencer, right?” Malone asked.
“That’s right. Jim Spencer, State Police.” The State Police Sergeant replied. “I know you too…Sam Malone, you were a pretty good pitcher for the Sox back in the day. Own a bar now, don’t you?”
“Yeah, Cheers. This is my Skipper, Lieutenant Eric Harry.”
“Pleasure to meet you all.” Harry said.

Spenser turned to the rest of the group.

“This is Lieutenant Martin Quirk and Detective Sunny Randall, both of Boston PD. And this is Staff Sergeant Hawk, Army National Guard.”
“We were just discussing the fact that somehow the State Troopers were willing to take Spencer back.” Quirk said with a chuckle.
“Healey asked me before you had the chance, Martin.” Spencer said chuckling. “Just be glad Sunny said yes.”
“Like I’d want to work with you as a cop, Spenser!” Randall added with a mock scowl.

The Army National Guard Staff Sergeant had caught Malone’s attention.

“I know you as well, don’t I, Staff Sergeant. Didn’t you stop that loan shark from burning down Gary’s Old Towne Tavern when Gary got into debt?
“That might have been me.” Hawk replied, somewhat enigmatically. “I don’t hold with loan sharks burning down people’s place of business or threatening their family. Offends my sense of justice.
“Gary’s debt was ‘taken care of’ and he has much more reasonable repayments.” Hawk added, showing his teeth in a slightly frightening grin.

Quirk shook his head.

“God knows how the National Guard allowed you to become a military cop.”
“My obvious charm, Lieutenant. Besides, I didn’t really want to re-join the Foreign Legion. Would prevent me from doing my day job.”

*

“Sorry to bring you out in the middle of the night, folks.” The senior Coast Guard officer on the JSTF, a Captain, said apologetically. “But we have something of an emergency on our hands. I’m sure we’ve all heard of the plight of Paradise.”

Heads around the room nodded in agreement. Local news channels had been showing almost nothing else for the last few hours.

“Well, we’ve been given a mission to help out. It’s going to fall mainly on the Coast Guard and Naval Militia to get this done, but I’m sure the rest of us can pitch in too.
“Our job will be to transport firefighting and USAR teams from Boston FD to Paradise Harbour. The latest reports are that the harbour is still useable.”

The Captain paused for a second and looked at Harry.

“Lieutenant Harry, I believe your vessel is being refuelled at the moment. Would your commander be happy to assign her and at least one other boat to this mission?”
“I would need to run it by him, Sir, but I’d say yes.” Harry replied. “The Parker is also alongside having lost her sweep. It’ll be at least forty-eight hours before a new one arrives.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.
“The rest of us have to remain sharp for any other potential security threats to this Port and the fact that the Russkies might still shoot some missiles at us. Now, any questions?”
“How bad are things in Paradise, Captain?” Spenser asked. “I’m guessing the TV isn’t telling the full story.”

The Captain focused on the State Trooper.

“Pretty bad, Sergeant. Without reinforcement from the Boston Fire Department, the firefighters on scene are going to be overrun. That happens and a lot of people will die, and other communities are going to burn too.”

*

“We want to go with you, Lieutenant.” Spenser said to Harry once the briefing was over. “We both know people in Paradise.”

The Naval Militia Lieutenant looked from the State Police Trooper to Detective Randall and back.

“Okay.” He said at last. “If you clear it with your Bosses and you won’t be passengers.”

***

[1] The L14A1 was the British designation for the French MIACAH F1 mine. See link.

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[jemhouston]

If Hawk is around, the smart troublemakers will stay quiet. Dumb troublemakers are easier to take out.

Dr. Mauri Iles will be heading there shortly, if she's not already there.

[Bernard Woolley]

How Hawk managed to become an MP will be quite the story in itself!

Should be a lot of work for Dr Isles. Talking of doctors, did anyone spot the other little cameo mention?

[jemhouston]

You mean St. Elsewhere?

OOC, In the Hawk Spinoff, Hawk did work at one time for a cloak and dagger outfit. I imagine they still keep tabs on him.

[Bernard Woolley]

You got it.

I don't think A Man Called Hawk has been shown here since first time around. Sadly, I've never seen it.

[Eaglenine2]

Question where does the M113 in the 3rd ACR came from?

[Bernard Woolley]

The squadron and regimental H.Qs and Support Squadron all have M113s being used for various purposes.

[Matt Wiser]

Whoo-hoo! Lots of action here, and glad to be of help. BZ as usual, and so to business:

AFSOUTH's head might not be on a pike, but SACEUR will give him a royal ass-chewing which will be richly deserved. Expect SIXTHFLT carrier air to be heavily involved in supporting the Greeks and Turks. No surprise there that the Greeks and Turks are fighting shoulder-to-shoulder at that one location: the Communists are the common enemy. And no doubt there's plenty of anti-Soviet Croats who can be stirred up (if they haven't been already) to make the Soviet Carpathian Front's rear exciting...

Those cut off Cav Troopers and Brits might think about a breakout if friendlies are close.

Those three Soviet battalion commanders are dead men walking. If they're not KIAs, the KGB will deal directly with them.

Looks like the Boston area has a problem that is way over their heads. They need help not just from Boston, but the rest of the state, and possibly Federal resources as well (the Urban Search and Rescue Teams come to mind). And good shout-outs, mind. Been a long time since I've seen any of those shows.

Another day in the KTO, and another round of flight pay-of which 45¢ goes back to Uncle Sam come next April 15! Just remember that in Iraq, the whole bloody country's an ammo dump.

Nice job, and get with 351!

[Fusilier]

Yay! “Mayday” Malone!

[jemhouston]

You got it.

I don't think A Man Called Hawk has been shown here since first time around. Sadly, I've never seen it.

It was a 13-week series and I'm not sure it ever went to DVD or full episodes to Youtube.

[Johnnie Lyle]

What did they manage to set alight to start a major firestorm in April/May suburban Massachusetts? Or is it a case of the news media getting it more wrong than right?

Were it California in November, I could totally see it, but I dunno if suburban Massachusetts in spring has the conditions for a fire to burn into another city or outside a given area like the mobile home park (IIRC) you mentioned got hit.

I’m trying not to be obnoxiously critical, but I do have some experience (real and exercise) with this kind of situation and so do wonder if a missile hit will burn down a whole American town absent special circumstances like we have in California.

[Bernard Woolley]

The media are exagerating a bit, however the second missile had a thermobaric warhead. It's a very hot fire in which pretty much everything has caught fire.

[Johnnie Lyle]

The media are exagerating a bit, however the second missile had a thermobaric warhead. It's a very hot fire in which pretty much everything has caught fire.

Is that enough to propagate the fire beyond the blast radius if there’s substantial space between the buildings?

[jemhouston]

The media are exagerating a bit, however the second missile had a thermobaric warhead. It's a very hot fire in which pretty much everything has caught fire.

Is that enough to propagate the fire beyond the blast radius if there’s substantial space between the buildings?

It depends on how many gas lines go up, cars, and the like.

[Belushi TD]

It also depends on how effective the fire department is. Do I recall correctly that there were significant casualties in the fire brigade? Or am I thinking of the attack on London? Or another timeline altogether?

Anyway, assuming I'm correct about the fire department getting hit, I also seem to recall that none of the surrounding towns were able/willing to send assistance with fire suppression, so there wasn't much to keep it from jumping from house to house.

Of course, Johnnie knows more about firestorms than all the rest of us put together, so I might be talking out my ....

Belushi TD

[Johnnie Lyle]

The media are exagerating a bit, however the second missile had a thermobaric warhead. It's a very hot fire in which pretty much everything has caught fire.

Is that enough to propagate the fire beyond the blast radius if there’s substantial space between the buildings?

It depends on how many gas lines go up, cars, and the like.

It depends.

Gas mains generally don’t propagate fires through them or to neighboring structures - no oxygen. Instead, they supply existing fires. They’re also likely to be closed off pretty quickly by the gas company. If you have broken mains, then you can get fires, but that’s highly unlikely outside Ground Zero. Now gas tanks will explode, but again, that’s more they’re on fire than spreading the fire.

If you’ve seen the footage of people evacuating from Paradise, CA, you saw lots of people running the gauntlet of fire. As long as the vehicles kept moving, they were generally safe. The problem was more smoke choking out the engines than heat setting them on fire. Even if the fire got vehicles, they tended to burn rather than explode - and, if they do explode, they’re already on fire. One of the ambulance crews trapped in Paradise abandoned their ambulance and took shelter with their patients in a garage. The ambulance burned (not exploding), the neighboring garage didn’t, and they got the highest awards the ambulance service has. You saw similar things around Feather River Hospital, where people sheltered on the helo pads, and lots of the buildings survived. Even a minor open space will give you a lot of protection from radiant heat.

What gives us fits here in CA are a combination of extremely dry fuels and high winds. Again, the first day of Camp Fire was more aerosolized sparks driven by the high winds than what we conceive of as a traditional blaze. The winds caused spotting, where sparks and embers got blown way ahead of the fire, starting new ones, and pushing it forward.

Photos from the Carr Fire in Shasta County from earlier in 2018 illustrate how capricious a CA wildfire can be: https://www.petoskeynews.com/story/news ... /44414809/
The fire burned the treeline into a suburb, and then stopped at the grass. Even the swimming pool is still full. But the house is gone - sparks on the roof, or sucked in by a whole house fan. Houses across the road are completely intact. You can see similar examples like that marina shot - the woods are gone, but the boats in Lake Shasta are fine.

For this Paradise, they have major things going for them. First up, it’s spring and they’ve had recent rain. Winds are very mild, like 5mph. Both of those really help. They also have a lot of open space and free standing buildings. And while the thermobaric warhead is nasty, it’s not likely to cause firestorm conditions which would generate the winds necessary to propagate a fire through a city.

My big concern would be if you had interconnected buildings ablaze - that could allow fire to move from one building to another, especially if they’re older or not up to code. Again, a thermobaric warhead will do a lot to open fire paths close, but it’s not likely to spread the fire to intact structures beyond Ground Zero.

It also depends on how effective the fire department is. Do I recall correctly that there were significant casualties in the fire brigade? Or am I thinking of the attack on London? Or another timeline altogether?

Anyway, assuming I'm correct about the fire department getting hit, I also seem to recall that none of the surrounding towns were able/willing to send assistance with fire suppression, so there wasn't much to keep it from jumping from house to house.

Of course, Johnnie knows more about firestorms than all the rest of us put together, so I might be talking out my ....

Belushi TD

I suspect the biggest problem in Paradise is that Chief Brooks and Chief Stone don’t have a good idea on the overall situation, especially if they’re trying to run this thing out of their cars and they’re used to only one major incident at a time. They’re managing at least two fires, plus they’re going to have to manage getting evacuation shelters set up, coordinating additional resources, handling all the logistics of requesting, deploying and supporting those services, plus documentation. And then there’s press, VIPs, etc.

At a bare minimum, that requires two incident HQs, each with a full boat (IC, Ops, Plans, Logistics and Finance), a team handling care and shelter, plus a county level Emergency Operations Center with their own full boat to process the situation, assign priorities, manage resources and ensure nothing is missed. There really is no substitute for dedicated people to think strategically and try to piece together a coordinated picture out of the chaos. That’s really hard, even with a very experienced team.

They don’t have that, and that means lots of mistakes are going to be made. Especially given their inexperience with anything bigger than a murder or a house fire.

And this is 2005 FEMA, which at least in @ was a lot more chickenshit about proper paperwork. Forms filled out wrong delaying stuff was a major issue in @ response to Katrina, for example. That’s also going to delay things.

I wouldn’t say there’s a major risk of a fire getting out of control and burning the neighboring towns - they have a lot if things going for them. I’d say the bigger risk is that they won’t be able to suppress the fires at the impact sites in time to save damaged structures and prevent them being total losses - or being able to save people caught in there.

Plus, the nightmare is only beginning. There’s going to be a lot of people who can’t go home until everything is checked, so they have to be cared for. Then they’re going to need lots of building inspectors to check buildings, public works people for debris removal and cleanup, etc.

And then they’re going to get royally fucked come FEMA audit time if they don’t have the proper documentation to show how FEMA’s money was used.

The response to the disaster is often the easy part. It’s recovery that’s hard.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

From the stories an uncle told of the Liverpool Blitz, as seen from roof of Anglican Cathedral where he chased down incendiaries, a lot hung on fire-crews getting hoses into the docks. Too many street hydrants were wrecked, and the few fire-boats' etc squirt range was limited...

Often got to stage where the only reliable intel was from the fire-watch team atop the cathedral tower, whose phone-lines linked to the city C&C centre.

If fire got into Cathedral roof, it would roar up the tower. Team planned to jump rather than roast...

Apparently the Luftwaffe were aware of the Tower's over-watch potential, but a row of barrage balloons along the ridge behind cathedral mitigated strafing...

IIRC, a lot of pilots bombed the river instead of docks, ships or warehouses. Seems pilots had been promised a very nice medal if they managed to breach either the road or rail Mersey tunnels. Partly explains why neither were used as air-raid shelters. I don't know about the rail tunnel but, IIRC, the road tunnel had no provision for watertight doors...