The Last War? : Chapter 388

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Jotun.

*

D+32

*

2001 hours GMT. Off Bintan Island, the Singapore Strait.
The small convoy of four vessels from Military Sealift Command were enroute to Singapore to pick up supplies for the USS John C. Stennis CVBG and USS Boxer ARG. The navy had the choice of a number of ports in Southeast Asia for resupply, but their main contractor in the region, Glenn Defence Marine Asia, had recommended Singapore over Darwin, or any other port.

Two Republic of Singapore Navy Victory class corvettes, RSS Vengeance and RSS Valour had come out to lead the convoy as it had entered the Singapore Strait. Two OHP class frigates, USS Halyburton and USS De Wert, and the Spruance class destroyer, USS Fletcher had taken up position aft of the convoy. Covering it from any possible submarine attack.

Even in wartime the strait was full of small and medium sized ships sailing between various destinations, fishing, or doing a variety of other tasks. The larger ships, like the big Ro-Ro container vessels had become rare. Most only appearing as part of convoys. Vengeance had already had to warn a couple of small and medium sized vessels away from the track of the convoy. The RSAF had the airspace over the strait well covered and a pair of MCMV had searched the track the convoy was due to take into port. Nothing, it seemed, had been missed.

One moment the ammunition ship USNS Kilauea was sailing serenely at a speed of ten knots. The next she was on fire, exploding and sinking. Sailing close to her port was USNS Henry J. Kaiser. The replenishment oiler was hit by debris and the blast wave from the stricken Kilauea, setting her on fire too. Her crew were able to bring the fires under control, and it looked like she would make port. That was until she too was rocked by an underwater explosion. The remaining two ships, a pair of Cape H Class T-AKR, heaved to until their masters were sure it was safe to proceed.

Singaporean and US Navy helicopters soon swarmed the area. Some picked up survivors from the water, while others hunted for a potential suspect. After all, the sea lane had just been searched for mines. RSS Vengeance had spotted a medium sized cargo vessel that was now acting suspiciously. She hailed the vessel, which refused to answer. Shots across the cargo vessel’s bow from the corvette’s 76mm cannon had no effect either. Vengeance’s captain ordered that the suspect vessel should be stopped with gunfire. 76mm shells tore into her hull aft, the ship began to slow and list. Suddenly, she exploded violently. Thankfully, well before Vengeance had gotten close enough to be damaged.

*

Captain James Dolman, the assistant chief of staff for logistics for 7th Fleet replaced the handset of the phone on his desk, having only said a few words in response to the news of the disaster in the Singapore Strait. From what the RSN could tell, the cargo vessel they had sunk had been carrying mines. Which it had laid ahead of the convoy after the MCMV had passed by. Casualties amongst the crews of Kilauea and Henry J. Kaiser were heavy.

Dolman wondered how the Soviets, or one of their local surrogates could possibly have known the time that the convoy would be transiting the straits. After all, only the USN, RSN and the contractors at GDMA knew the timing.

“Oh my God!” He breathed.

For some time, Dolman had been a ‘mole’ in the USN for Leonard Glenn Francis, aka ‘Fat Leonard’. Francis was the chief executive, president, and chairman of Glenn Defence Marine Asia. Dolman was one of a number of US Navy officers and civilian staff that Francis had bribed so that he could get access to classified movements of US naval vessels, confidential contracting information, and information about active law enforcement investigations. Francis had even directed his moles within the navy to divert aircraft carriers to ports that he controlled in Southeast Asia, so that he could more easily overcharge the navy for the company’s services.

Dolman had recently confessed his part in the scheme to Captain David Oxford, Chief of Staff to the Commander US Seventh Fleet. And had been expecting to be arrested any day now by NCIS agents. Oxford had ordered him to carry on working and keep up contacts with GDMA. It had been Dolman himself who had let the contractors know when the convoy would be arriving. It meant only one thing; the enemy had a pipeline into GDMA. He had killed those sailors and been responsible for the loss of two valuable naval auxiliaries.

The captain opened a drawer in his desk and took out the M9 pistol inside. He felt the cold metal of the barrel against his temple.

“I’m so sorry.” He said before squeezing the trigger.

*

Captain Oxford was on a visit to Commander Fleet Activities Chinhae in the Republic of Korea when he got the news of the disaster in the straits. He did not shoot himself, but instead requested a visit to 1st MEB, who had taken up position near the front line. His hosts were a little surprised but complied. History would record that Captain David Oxford would be tragically killed by a North Korean sniper.

2041 hours GMT. Alert Airport, Nunavut, Canada.
Half a dozen Spetsnaz had been left behind at the airport to guard the A-90 Orlyonok ‘ekranoplan’ and the three surviving Canadians they had taken prisoner. Their attention was mainly taken up by the ongoing engagement at nearby CFS Alert. The defenders had mainly been forced back into the buildings but were continuing to hold off the Spetsnaz. So, when two of the men at the airport suddenly dropped, it took the remainder a moment to realise that they were under fire.

As some bullets began to hit the A-90 its pilot yelled at the surviving Spetsnaz to do something before serious damage was done. He also shouted at his crew to see if they could override the safety systems that prevented the machine-gun turret from operating on the ground.

The Soviet Spetsnaz did not know it, but they were now outnumbered by eight members of the Grise Fiord Patrol, from 1st Canadian Ranger Patrol Group. The Rangers had found some spots where they could bring down harassing fire on the Soviets while remaining outside of the effective range of the latter’s AK-74M.

With the Spetsnaz pinned down, the Rangers began to shoot at the A-90. As natural crack-shots, they were soon able to disable the machine-gun turret before moving on to shoot at the main engine. Things got so bad for the surviving Spetsnaz that the senior man radioed for assistance from the group attaching CFS Alert. When the Rangers spotted heavily armed reinforcements approaching, they melted away. But, remained in observation, reporting back to H.Q.

*

The pair of CF-118A Hornets roared over CFS Alert at medium altitude. The two fighters circled as they carried out observation.

“CANEAST, Knife Zero One. I can see what looked like a medium sized single engined aircraft on the ground at Alert Airport. Some buildings at CFS Alert appear to be on fire, but I can see flashes of what looks like small arms fire. I would assess that the station’s personnel are still resisting. Request further instructions, over.”
“Knife Zero One, CANEAST, can you carry out a strafing run on the hostile aircraft on the ground, over?”
“Ah…standby, CANEAST.”

Lieutenant Whitcomb changed to the Hornet’s secondary radio to speak to his wingman.

“What do you think?”
“I’m up for it if you are, Randy.”
“Let’s do it. The guys on the ground need help.”

He switched back to the main radio.

“CANEAST, Knife Zero One. We will both carry out a strafing run on the hostile aircraft. Will report if there are any hostile ground defences once complete, over.”
“Roger that, Knife Zero One. ‘Luck, out.”

Whitcomb went first, arming his plane’s 20mm Vulcan cannon. He decided to make a rapid diving pass to avoid any ground fire. The ground came up fast, the enemy aircraft filling his gunsight. He fired a two-second burst, before pulling hand on the stick and climbing away, releasing flares.

“Looks like you got a few good strikes, Randy, over.” His wingman reported. “Am starting my run.”

Orbiting above, Whitcomb watched the second Hornet make a rapid pass. Tracer spitting from its nose. The Soviet aircraft had already been smoking from his pass, now it caught fire and exploded.

2130 hours GMT. Flughafen Lübeck, FRG.
Major Frederik Bertges, very, very new commanding officer of Fallschirmjägerbataillion 261 thanks to “Planstellenschießen” of the NVA, reflected that as exciting and honourable the job of being surrounded and cut off from resupply sounded, it was not at all fun.

The whole operation of taking the airport and using it as launch point for the counterattack to finally throw the Warsaw Pact out of Schleswig-Holstein or cut them off and let them wither on the vine had been plagued with mishaps and blunders from the start, its planning likely based on faulty intelligence and seat-of-the-pants planning somewhere where the shoulder boards showed gold pips…the casualties of his unit and that of the rest of the air assault force while holding the reserve NVA forces at bay were mounting.

The constant use of small tank hunting teams had long held the enemy armour at bay, but by now, the Fallschirmjäger had mostly shot their bolt, although they kept – as was their self-conception – giving a high account of themselves. They were helped by the fact that LBC was surrounded by woods, small towns and villages, and the non-wooded areas – mostly fields whose crops would not amount to much this year – were cut by thin, dense rows of “Knicke”, windbreaks formed by bushes and trees, typical for the northern German countryside and comparable to the bocage country that had so plagued the Allies before their breakout from Normandy in 1944. The NVA still used their tanks and troops as if they were in the less compartmented plains of the DDR and kept paying the price, although they were learning.

Bertges wondered morbidly if he should maybe write a letter to his wife who was safe behind friendly lines in a village in rural Rheinland-Pfalz, with his parents, far from any militarily valuable targets. But his thoughts were interrupted.

He heard a few pops and saw several green flares being fired from the eastern perimeter, where a gap in the vegetation provided the most likely access point for armour, indicating a major enemy attack The explosions of a concentrated artillery barrage crept closer.

“Stork Nest, this is Stork 2-4, we are under attack by enemy artillery and armour at least in battalion strength, supported by dismounted motor rifle troops. Request immediate reinforcements.”

Further reports from his companies, or what remained of them, painted the same bleak picture.

Bertges had the reports relayed to the other units holding different parts of the airport’s perimeter, and Brigade sent half of the remaining forces on a two-prong approach to the eastern perimeter to hold the armoured assault for as long as possible.

The voice reports coming in now held a distinct undertone of real urgency but not yet panic. This seemed to be the final push by the Ossis…maybe their CO had had enough, or the army brass had lit a fire under his ass…

The Fallschirmjäger slowly gave ground, retreating through the woods and urban terrain to the north and south of the runway, taking a high toll of the attackers, but they ran ever lower on ammunition, especially of the anti-armour variety.

There. A platoon of NVA T-72s and T-55s hove into view, raking the West German lines with shell fire. Time to make a last stand, then. He breathed to calm himself and gave orders to whatever staff he had left to join the defence perimeter, while listening to what scant reports from his troops made it through the enemy jamming.

Suddenly, the lead T-72 decided to send its turret into low Earth orbit, as its ammunition detonated spectacularly.

What? Bertges looked around and suddenly heard what was an honest-to-God cavalry bugle sounding the attack, most likely through a humongous loudspeaker.

*

“Gunner! Command tank, 1200, AP!” Major Christoph Märkl barked, designating the target through his commander’s sight. The Fuchs a scant 100 meters behind his leading company had a rock-concert grade loudspeaker on its roof and played the memetic cavalry attack bugle as the entire balance of Panzeraufklärungsbataillon 7’s main battle tanks led a mass of other armoured vehicles on this cavalry raid/relief mission.

Märkl’s divisional commander had designated him as officer commanding the main relief force that consisted of the 34 Leopard 2 tanks of his battalion, a company of Gepard flakpanzers, two batteries of PzH 2000, a hodgepodge of Fuchs, M113, trucks both military and civilian, and even pickup trucks and delivery vans, which had received hasty OD paint jobs and were crewed by the rest of Fallschirmjägerbrigade 26 who were itching to help their comrades.

“Märkl.” He had said, “we are taking a leaf out of the very old book, the one with the brown cover, and give you a battle group that is going to be bearing your name. All in all, it’s bit more than 120 vehicles. A lot of responsibility, and a lot of shit that can go wrong. I know you can do it; you are made for this. Do us proud!”

And here he was, grinning ear to ear as the cavalry bugle was replaced by “Marsch des Yorckschen Korps” blasting through the speakers and his tanks were blasting the Ossis apart. He fought the battle head out of his cupola and saw that a Leopard 2A7 drove into an artillery shell hole at over 40 mph, practically jumped into the air as it exited again and fired its main gun while in the air. Its gunner would later claim he had actually hit a tank with that shot Where is a camera when you need one? I have seen this only during those staged Sov demonstrations when they wank about how invincible they are. He chortled and directed the tanks to fan out and take up defensive positions.

Meanwhile, the “Mad Max memorial mass” as it would be translated into English later fanned out and the Fallschirmjäger joined their comrades in the defence.

Embedded forward artillery observers and forward air controllers began calling in air and artillery strikes on the area directly behind the eastern perimeter of the airport, lighting up the night sky.

For all intents and purposes, the battle for LBC was over and the Fallschirmjäger, their wounded and most of their dead would be evacuated.

2150 hours GMT. Brasilia, Brazil.
“In response to your urgent message I sought an interview with the Brazilian Minister of Defence regarding the progress of their army’s advance in Venezuela. Senhor Alencar informed me that the reports that have recently aired on several TV news sources are incorrect. The furthest advance has reached Kamarakapay. The principle obstacle have been logistics and the difficulties of moving military forces using the limited road network in the area. The Venezuelan Army and National Militia have been putting up heavy resistance to the Brazilian advance. Senhor Alencar was not able to provide information on where the story had originated from and assured me that the Ministry of Defence, while, of course, running PSYOPS against their enemy, that this was not part of it. He did further state that while his ministry was not the source of the story, he could not rule out that another organ of the Brazilian state may be the source. I would, therefore, recommend that the Head of Station for Charlie’s Indians [Note added to file copy: We should not refer to the agency this way in official comms] seek a meeting with ABIN as a matter or urgency.” Extract of a signal from Colonel J. Willard, Senior Defense Official and Defense Attaché at the U.S. Embassy in Brasilia.

*

Douglas Peña, the CIA Station Chief for Brazil had been waiting for some time outside the office of the Deputy Director of ABIN, the Brazilian Intelligence Agency. Several different secretaries had brought him numerous cups of coffee and sandwiches before one of them ushered him into the Deputy Director’s office.

“Senhor Peña, please sit down.” The Deputy Director said, smiling warmly. “It is a pleasure to see you as always. Can I get you some coffee?”
“No thank you, Senhor Aquino.” Peña replied with a wry smile. “I think I have consumed a significant amount of your nation’s coffee supplies. Wonderful though the blend you have is, I don’t think my bladder could stand any more!”

The Deputy Director laughed heartily

“My apologies for keeping you waiting. Unavoidable, I am afraid. How may I help today.”
“Well, Senhor Aquino, it is about this report that your army was on the outskirts of Ciudad Bolívar and Ciudad Guayana. The Ministry of Defence has advised us that this is not true. We were wondering what the origin of the story was and if we can help by co-ordinating our operations with any you are running.”

The Deputy Director turned away and looked out of the window in his office for a moment, his face turning serious. He turned back, smiling again.

“Senhor Peña, I cannot confirm the origin of those reports. Of course, like the Ministry of Defence, we will not publicly comment on ongoing military operations. I personally have no knowledge of any intelligence operation involving such a deception. Of course, the Director General does have a few special teams that report directly to him.” The Deputy Director said with a gleam in his eye. “Who knows what operations they are running and it would be improper for me to speculate.
“It has certainly put ‘the cat amongst the pigeons’, as I believe the the saying is, in Caracas. We have reports that the Venezuelans have moved troops to those cities and that civilians have started to flee. Causing all sorts of complications for the Venezuelan military. It would, I think, help a great deal were your Agency not to...how do you say...put out information that contradicts the erroneous media reports.”
“I quite understand, Senhor Aquino.” Peña replied. “I will advise Langley that the best course of action is to deny any knowledge.”
“Never believe anything until it has been officially denied.” The Deputy Director said with a wink.

2212 hours GMT. Esbjerg, Jutland.
“So, Mr Wagner, I see from your documents that you have worked on Baltic and North Sea ferries before?” The Junior Purser of the ferry MS Ocean Venturer, Marianne Nørgaard, observed after reading the perspective seaman’s documents.

Klaus Wagner, aged 38, single, wanted for multiple murders by both the Polizei Hamburg and the Danish Politiet, nodded. After his military service he had indeed worked aboard ferries. Which had allowed him to carry out some as yet undetected murders.

“Yes, ma’am. I was a steward on several ships.”
“Can I ask why you left?”
“My Mother. She became sick, so I needed to look after her. She died last year. I didn’t want to go back to sea because I had a good job in Hamburg. But now, I am a refugee and working on a ferry seems better than living in temporary accommodation.”

This time it was Nørgaard’s turn to nod.

“My sympathies for your loss, Mr Wagner. Having had a look at your previous experience I cannot see why we cannot sign you on.” She said. “I will check with the Chief Purser, but we have need of stewards. Please wait here.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Nørgaard seemed nice, friendly and professional Wagner thought. He was glad that she did not remind him of his Mother. It was always a pity when they did.

The Junior Purser returned a few moments later, bearing some paperwork. She handed Wagner a pen.

“Welcome aboard Ocean Venturer, Mr Wagner. Please complete these forms, then once you are done, I will take you to the Chief Steward. He will brief you on your duties and get you settled into your accommodation.”

*

After he had settled in and been issued with a uniform and PPE, Wagner started his duties. He was aware that he was now wanted by the police and working on a ferry was, he felt, a good way to keep one step ahead of them. He had also noticed some likely ‘candidates’ amongst the refugees coming aboard.

Wagner was a little disturbed when he spotted some uniformed Danish and West German police officers board the ferry shortly before she sailed. However, he was reassured when they seemed to concentrate on the passengers. Checking on some I.D documents as they spoke to some of them. Wagner simply melted into the background, knowing that generally people only saw a uniform, rather than the person wearing it.

In peacetime the ferry would have left according to a timetable. However, in wartime it had to wait until other vessels were ready to sail and the escort was ready. It was a few minutes before midnight when Ocean Venturer left her berth, part of a small convoy heading for Wilhelmshaven. That a female refugee, who had been on her own when she had boarded the ferry, did not disembark at the West German port went unnoticed. A week later her dead body would wash up on a Danish beach.

2231 hours GMT. Königswinter, FRG.
Gabrielle ‘Gaby’ Horler jogged along the quiet street until she turned the corner and stopped by an unremarkable grey van. She was just another office worker out for a late night jog after a long shift in nearby Bonn. Except she was actually a Polizeihauptmeister in GSG 9. Horler walked calmly to the rear of the van, opened one of the doors and got in.

“There is no sign of any surveillance devices on the target house. I did observe a light on, however, Boss.”
“Okay, Gaby, nice work. Get geared up, you’re leading the primary assault.” The leutenant team leader replied. “Remember people, our orders are to take this Ossi spy alive.”

There was no time to change fully, so Horler put her body armour on over her pink ‘hoody’ and strapped her drop holster over her jeans. What she had come to call her ‘soccer mom’ outfit; a term she had picked up during an exchange in the United States. A ballistic helmet with visor completed the rather incongrouous outfit. Weapons wise she had an MP7A1 and P8A1 pistol, but tonight would lead with a MZF1 shotgun loaded with ‘less-lethal’ rounds. [1]

Horler lead the primary team around to the rear of the property, while the secondary team approached the front. When the time came they secondary team would set off distraction charges and fire CS and stun grenades through the target house’s windows.

Taking up her position with the other assaulters, Horler racked a round into the chamber of her shotgun and lowered her visor. The explosion of the distraction charges and stun grenades shattered the quiet of the night and signalled the beginning of the assault. Horler clambered up an aluminium assault ladder to the first floor. The ladder had already broken the window, but she paused for a moment for a member of the covering group to fire a stun grenade through the gap where the pane of glass had been.

Horler found herself in the bedroom, noting that the duvet had been thrown aside in a hurry. There was no sign of their target, however, so she moved on, leading her team into the corridor outside.

‘Pop! Pop! Pop!’

“Shots fired! Shots fired! This is Team 2, the suspect is downstairs and firing on us!”

“Let’s move! Go!” Horler yelled to her team.

A member of the team with a ballistic shield led them downstairs, linking up with other member of Team 1 who had entered from the back door and windows. They pushed cautiously forward, hearing more pistol shots. On entering the living room they found themselves confronted by a figure in a respirator, holding a handgun. He turned to point it at Horler’s team and she quickly shot him twice with ‘bean-bag’ rounds. Other members of the team swarmed forward, pinning the suspect to the ground and kicking the pistol away, before zip tying him.

“Look like an Ossi weapon to you, Gaby?” One of the other officers asked, handing her the pistol.
“Pistol-M by the look of it; an Ossi made Makarov.” She replied. “Anyway, lets get him and ourselves out of here. Place stinks of CS.”

Once the CS gas had cleared, officers from the BGS, accompanied by BfV personnel began to search the house. They took away a computer and a number of documents, including several letters from Fräulein Maria Fischer. Who was soon identified as a file clerk at the Regierungsbunker.

2256 hours GMT. CF Northern Area Headquarters, Yellowknife, NT.
“People, we have a serious situation on the ground at CFS Alert.” Brigadier Jean Pascal, the commander of Joint Task Force (North), said to his staff. “I need ideas people.
“We have two more Hornets on the way from Rankin Inlet, Sir.” The RCAF officer who served as liaison from the NORAD Canadian Region said. “Another pair are being readied at Yellowknife. However, they are only armed for air to air. We don’t have any air to ground weapons stored at our FOLs. Nearest air to ground weapons at at Bagotville and Cold Lake.”
“You have some Hunters at Yellowknife and Rankin Inlet don’t you, Major? Even if they only go with guns, they’d have more firepower than a Hornet.” Pascal wondered.

The RCAF officer quickly checked some data and looked over a map.

“The distance between Rankin and Alert is approximately 2,200 to 2,300 kilometres, give or take a kilometre. The ferry range of a Hunter is 3,100 kilometres, but its combat range is only 620. Since, unlike the Hornet, they can’t refuel in the air, they would have to land and refuel somewhere approximately 500 kilometres from Alert to be useful. I’ll have a look, but I don’t think there is anywhere suitable.” He paused to check a list of airports. “Resolute Bay could take Hunters, but it’s still too far from Alert, sorry, Sir.”
“We could at least forward deploy the QRF to Resolute, Sir.” An army Lieutenant Colonel suggested.

JTF (N) had a fifty man Quick Reaction Force drawn from C Company, The Loyal Edmonton Regiment. A pair of CC-130H were available to transport the QRF to wherever it needed to go. However, in this case the destination was held by an enemy.

“Right, get that started, Colonel.” Pascal ordered. “Will give us more options.
“Major, your Hornets have reported destroying the Soviet Ekranoplan, correct?”
“Yes, Sir.” The RCAF Major confirmed.
“That cuts off their line of retreat. How are Spetsnaz likely to react to being trapped?”
“Well, they’re not quite the sort of fanatics we saw in the Last War, Sir.” An army Captain opined. “They will try to carry on the mission, even if that means sacrificing themselves. However, they would, in my opinion, be open to negotiating if they realise that their position is hopeless. We do need to re-establish communications with Alert to be able to negotiate with them.”
“That’s got to be our priority.” Pascal declared. He looked to the senior signals officer on his staff. “Major, I want comms re-established with Alert ASAP, even if it means we send them carrier pigeons!”

2345 hours GMT. Scharbeutz, FRG.
The patrol of Fenneks from 103rd Reconnaissance Battalion (the corps reconnaissance battalion of I (NL) Corps.) cautiously entered the village. They found it deserted, with only a few signs of damage to buildings. Some commercial buildings had evidently been looted, their windows broken and some items strewn out on the street. But that was all.

The Fenneks drove down to the beach, which looked out on the Bay of Lübeck. Some of the crew climbed down from their vehicles and filled a couple of canteens with water from the Baltic. Which they proceeded to empty over their vehicles, smiling while the others took photographs of the event.

*

As I (NL) Corps and I (GE) Korps consolidated their positions, General Kamov sprung his trap. Using a combination of radar reflecting decoys and the temporary gap in coverage caused by the attack on the E-8C, he had managed to concentrate eight tank and motor rifle divisions that made up the Byelorussian Group of Tank Armies to the east of Lübeck. [2] It was not the ten divisional juggernaut CINCWEST had hoped for. Indeed, some of the divisions were understrength. However, when it crashed into the boundary between the two NATO corps it came as a total surprise. Both NATO corps were bundled back towards their start-line. CINCWEST had also managed to arrange for a concentration of Warsaw Pact airpower to assist the counter-attack and was able to achieve air parity over the battlefield.

While NATO fighters were able to prevent most Warsaw Pact air attacks on the retreating corps, their enemy counterparts were also able to drive off most CAS and BAI sorties against the BTA. With airpower neutralised, the battle would mainly be between the armoured forces of both sides.

*

“Verdammt.” Generalleutnant Heinz Scholtz, the Commander of Operation COBALT muttered as me read the latest report.

For the operation he had turned command of I (GE) Korps over to his deputy and had set up a small headquarters staffed by personnel drawn from his own H.Q and I (NL) Corps. It had allowed him to effectively command the advance of both corps and co-ordinate with LANDJUT, without having to worry about having to ask COMNORTHAG for permission whenever he had to deviate from the plan.

There had been a few anxious hours when the air landing operation to capture Flughafen Lübeck had seemed in danger of failing. Thankfully, a relief force from 7 Panzer Division had managed to get through to LBC. Now, that success and so many others were being wiped out by a Soviet counter-attack. Worse, he had lost contact with H.Q I (GE) Korps due to enemy jamming. Even before that, Scholtz had been concerned about how his deputy was performing. He needed to be gripped.

“Get me a helicopter!” Scholtz ordered. “I need to get to my old corps ASAP!”

*

Two hours later a patrol of Jäger from a German Territorial Army unit came across a crashed Bo 105CB helicopter. It appeared that the helicopter had struck some wires, the pilot not seeing them in the dark, before crashing into woods. Four bodies were found in the helicopter, all badly burned, but one was noted to be wearing the insignia of a Generalleutnant in the Heer.

***

[1] MZF1 was the West German designation for the Remington Model 870 shotgun.

[2] Three divisions with the 5th Guards Tank Army and five divisions with the 7th Guards Tank Army.

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[MFOM]

Gallant but foolish of the general to go off like that

[Bernard Woolley]

People sometimes make what can seem like foolish decisions. To be fair to him, I (GE) Korps was out of contact & he was not convinced that his deputy was doing a good job. Perhaps the only way to find out what was going on was to go there in person.

[Eaglenine2]

Eh doesn't he has comms?

[Lordroel]

Nice update as always, so question, is Singapore at war ore just making sure World War III stays as far away as posabile.

[Bernard Woolley]

Eh doesn't he has comms?

To quote from the chapter:

“ Worse, he had lost contact with H.Q I (GE) Korps due to enemy jamming. Even before that, Scholtz had been concerned about how his deputy was performing. He needed to be gripped.”

Sorry if I didn’t make it clearer that there was comms jamming.

Nice update as always, so question, is Singapore at war ore just making sure World War III stays as far away as posabile.

Thank you. Singapore is a belligerent.

[jemhouston]

Generalleutnant Heinz Scholtz died doing the work of a General, not playing company commander.

Fat Albert is on borrow time. He might get the death penalty.

[James1978]

Well that was a jam packed chapter! Well done.

Could you refresh my memory as to where the Canadian Hunters came from?

FYI, don't forget that Thule AB in Greenland is in that neck of the woods. It's about 678km from CFS Alert. Resolute Bay is about 1,100km from Alert.
Thule might be a better place to stage a QRF.

Good chance there are US fighters at Thule. Bad news is they probably don't have zero A2G ordnance either. Though I suppose there could be a P-3 with some Mavericks.

Drama-wise, it's nice to see the Soviets can still pull off a surprise.

Keep up the good work!

[Matt Wiser]

It lives! BZ as usual, and so to business.

GDMA has been penetrated.... These two escaped a General Court-Martial, but they are now answering to a higher authority.

That Spetznatz team is now cut off: staging a QRF to retake the facility is next on the agenda.

Nothing like the Cavalry arriving, though 7th PD did it in style.

The mole may now have been identified at the West German Government's command bunker.

Two Tank Armies crashing into the Dutch and West Germans... and with the PGM shortage, this is going to be a tough one to stop.

Good work again, and get with 389!

[Jotun]

Whoa, what a whopper of a chapter to wake up to! Lots of stuff going on, lots to comment on.

First off, I hadn‘t been sure if the story of Kampfgruppe Märkl wasn‘t a bit too whimsical, but reading it now, months after writing it…I guess it‘s okay.
The (West) German armed reconnaissance troops have very unique esprit de corps that often (read: always) draws eye rolls and derision from the rest of not only the Heer but the entire Bundeswehr, and turning their historical cavalry roots up to eleven this relatively late in the war is EXACTLY something they‘d do.

As for the Byelorussian GTA…I guess we now see the reason why The Pause(tm) is going to happen. I already have a few ideas…hehe.

The female GSG9 operator must be a member of their equivalent of CAG‘s Funny Platoon, because to my knowledge, to date no woman has managed to make it through selection.
Given the ties between CAG and GSG9, it stands to reason such a sub-unit could exist. The German Customs Office for example has an observation and arrest unit (OEZ) that definitely has females in it.
I like very much that the operation was executed German police style, as in prioritizing arrest. There is a reason military ex-SOF types are rarely accepted into special police units in Germany…


Thanks for the chapter and it was an honour to contribute. Again.

[Lordroel]

Two Tank Armies crashing into the Dutch and West Germans... and with the PGM shortage, this is going to be a tough one to stop.

Good work again, and get with 389!

I know General Hendrikx is a commander of the Dutch 101st Infantry Brigade, so if his brigade is part of this battle, all wil end well, ore at least i hope.

[Rocket J Squrriel]

Pity that old pensioner who had the Panther tank and 88mm AA gun with ammunition lived in Kiel. Would be hilarious if the NVA or Soviet tanks started blowing up as 'Ride of the Valkyries' plays on speakers.

[Bernard Woolley]

Well that was a jam packed chapter! Well done.

Thank you.

Could you refresh my memory as to where the Canadian Hunters came from?

They belonged to a company called Northern Lights (now called Lortie Aviation). After the Soviet bomber attacks on North America, the RCAF decided to impress the Hunters into service. They are ex-Swiss AF F.58s, which can carry a variety of weapons, including AIM-9L and AGM-65.

Generalleutnant Heinz Scholtz died doing the work of a General, not playing company commander.

Sometimes generals have to leave their headquarters to be seen. I'm reminded of Haig at 1st Ypres. Had his helicopter not crashed, Scholtz might have saved the day, or at least alieviated it.

Fat Albert is on borrow time. He might get the death penalty.

I can't see Singapore being lenient!

FYI, don't forget that Thule AB in Greenland is in that neck of the woods. It's about 678km from CFS Alert. Resolute Bay is about 1,100km from Alert.
Thule might be a better place to stage a QRF.

The CF officers are being slightly insular here. They are making the mistake of not thinking about bases outside of Canada, or the NORAD AOR. Someone may remember Thule.

Good chance there are US fighters at Thule. Bad news is they probably don't have zero A2G ordnance either. Though I suppose there could be a P-3 with some Mavericks.

They'd be F-15s probably? AGM-65 might be a bit of a sledgehammer in this situation.

Drama-wise, it's nice to see the Soviets can still pull off a surprise.

Never count them out.

Keep up the good work!

Will do my best!

It lives! BZ as usual, and so to business.

Thank you.

GDMA has been penetrated.... These two escaped a General Court-Martial, but they are now answering to a higher authority.

I set up the logical result of the GDMA scandal in the TLWverse a while back. I figured that there would be no way that the KGB, or GRU would not notice the corruption and take advantage.

That Spetznatz team is now cut off: staging a QRF to retake the facility is next on the agenda.

The issue of where to send the QRF is something that needs to be sorted out. Alert Airport is not secure at the moment. The Canadians really need an aircraft like a UV-22. None of those around, however.

othing like the Cavalry arriving, though 7th PD did it in style.

Jotun certainly wrote that scene with some panache!

The mole may now have been identified at the West German Government's command bunker.

Her controller is now in the hands of the authorities. The BfV is going to have some questions for her.

Two Tank Armies crashing into the Dutch and West Germans... and with the PGM shortage, this is going to be a tough one to stop.

If they get going, their momentum is going to be difficult to stop.

Good work again, and get with 389!

Thanks again and will do!

The female GSG9 operator must be a member of their equivalent of CAG‘s Funny Platoon, because to my knowledge, to date no woman has managed to make it through selection.

Gaby Horler is a reference to a character created by a friend. It's a bit of artistic license. So, I hope you'll forgive me.

I like very much that the operation was executed German police style, as in prioritizing arrest. There is a reason military ex-SOF types are rarely accepted into special police units in Germany…

Can't interogate a corpse!

Thanks for the chapter and it was an honour to contribute. Again.

You're welcome for both!

I know General Hendrikx is a commander of the Dutch 101st Infantry Brigade, so if his brigade is part of this battle, all wil end well, ore at least i hope.

I'm not in the habit of killing off characters named after loyal readers!

[Lordroel]

I'm not in the habit of killing off characters named after loyal readers!

Yes and we now how to trust authors to keep their word.

[Jotun]

Regarding the female GSG9 sergeant, no worries. I mean, half of TV and cinema‘s iconic characters are present in TLW, what‘s one female GSG9 member?