The Last War: Chapter 374.
Posted: Sat Aug 24, 2024 3:33 pm
With thanks to Matt W.
*
D+29
*
1501 hours GMT. SANDF National Command Centre, Pretoria, RSA.
While he was, of course, fully reconciled to civilian control, General Smuts did not generally appreciate visits by politicians to what he considered ‘his’ territory. In his opinion, ministers should set broad policy and strategy and then leave the military to get on with it. Today he had to give a detailed briefing to the Minister of Defence and the US Ambassador. Quite frankly, he felt he had much more important to do. Couldn’t these politicians read the detailed reports he was sending to the Defence Ministry?
“Thank you for hosting us, General Smuts.” The Minister of Defence said after taking his seat. “I’m sure you are a very busy man.” He added, perhaps sensing that despite his welcoming demeanour, Smuts was far from happy to see them.
“Welcome to the National Command Centre, gentlemen.” Smuts replied. “Rather than pull anyone away from their jobs, I’m going to deliver this briefing myself.”
He stood up, walked across to the far wall and pulled down a map that showed southern Africa from Namibia in the West to Mozambique. Smuts paused for a second to allow the two civilians to take it in.
“This, gentlemen, is our theatre of operations. Stretching from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean. “The logistical challenges of supporting military operations in even just one area of this theatre are immense, never mind in several places, as we are doing at the moment. Quite frankly the SANDF is operating right at the limit of its abilities.”
Again, Smuts paused for a moment, before pulling down a more detailed map showing northern Namibia and northwest Botswana.
“I am going to work from west to east, starting with Namibia. Our primary ground forces in the country comprise 9 Division, of one South African motorised brigade and one US Marine Brigade.” He paused for a second. “By the way, I have given you handouts with detailed Orders of Battle, which you can refer to if you wish. [1]
“A second motorised brigade raised from three independent battalions is transiting to join the division. The division is currently holding a line along with Namibian forces to the north of Grootfontein. Here.” He said pointing to the map. “Angolan and Cuban attacks have slowed over the last few days. It would appear to be a combination of them outrunning their logistics and the Cuban units beginning to hear about events in their homeland.”
“How have the Namibians performed?” The Minister of Defence wanted to know.
Smuts sighed, he hated to bad mouth an ally.
“Their performance has generally been bad. Apart from some units of 21 Motorised Infantry Brigade, their artillery units and Special Forces, most of their army broke on first contact with the Angolans and Cubans. They also lost most of their air force in the first few hours of the invasion and their navy is generally irrelevant.
To be fair to them, the Namibian Defence Force is not really trained for what has effectively been high intensity combat. Since its formation, it’s focus has been on counterinsurgency and peacekeeping. To their credit, once the front-line stabilised, the Namibians have begun to sort themselves out. They’ve reorganised units and relieved commanders when it was necessary. They should now be able to at least hold their ground and follow up any counterattack we may make.”
“And there is definite proof of Cuban involvement, General?” The US Ambassador asked.
The SANDF Chief of Staff nodded.
“The first indications came from your Marines, Mr Ambassador. I understand they have a number of men of Cuban ancestry who recognised the Cuban-Spanish dialect. We’ve confirmed their presence via radio intercepts and reconnaissance. Cuban troops have also been identified taking part in the invasion of northwest Botswana.
“As I mentioned earlier, events in Cuba seem to have reached their troops here. We’ve been helping to make sure that the message is spread further.” Smuts added with a smile. “However, for the moment it appears that the Cuban senior leadership and most of the middle rank officers are loyal to Raoul Castro’s regime.
“To move on to northwest Botswana, our 44 Parachute Regiment and the Botswanan 3rd Infantry Brigade has stopped the Angolan-Cuban advance just outside of Gumare. Here.” He said, again pointing to the map. “Our 84 Motorised Brigade is hastening its way up the A3 and A35 roads.” Smuts continued, tracing the route of the brigade with his right hand. “Its leading units are due to reach Gumare within 48 hours. Once in place, 84 Brigade will relieve 44 Parachute, which will then be withdrawn into strategic reserve.”
Smuts pulled down a new map. This one showed eastern Botswana and part of Zimbabwe and South Africa.
“In concert with the Botswanan Army, we have won a comprehensive victory in eastern Botswana. The Zimbabwean 1st and 5th Brigades are assessed as being completely destroyed. With no Zimbabwean troops left in Botswana. Their defeat did lead to Mugabe deploying his strategic reserve, their Mechanised Brigade, most of the Presidential Guard, and requested assistance from the Soviet advisory group. A Soviet battalion group is believed to have joined the Mechanised Brigade.
“The Mechanised Brigade has not reached the Botswanan front, instead, it has been deployed to southern Zimbabwe to counter our Operation Salisbury. Our 7 Division has pushed up the A4 highway, with a secondary thrust up the A6. As a subsidiary part of Salisbury, 47 Brigade has advanced from northeast Botswana along the A7 towards Plumtree. Our intention is to draw in the Zimbabwean Army and its Soviet ‘advisors’ and render as many of them ‘combat ineffective’ as possible. It is not about taking territory.”
The US Ambassador noticed that the Minister of Defence smiled when Smuts said ‘Salisbury’ and asked why.
“Ah, Salisbury was the name that Harare was known by before official independence. It was a rather clever choice of name, I think. Mugabe probably thinks it means we mean to reimpose British rule or take over the country ourselves.
“Anyway, I am distracting you from your briefing, General.”
“Thank you, Minister.”
Smuts pulled down his last map. This one was of the area around Maputo, the capital of Mozambique.
“With what is in effect an unofficial cease-fire in place, the forward troops 8 Division have halted at Catembe, here.” He said, tapping part of the map. “Going any further north would involve a river assault crossing and, I don’t think that at the moment we want to push into Maputo itself. However, we have opened up an alternative advance north, with the possibility of advancing to the west of Maputo. Units of 82 Mechanised Brigade have halted outside Boane, here.
“To the northeast of Maputo, we have Force 136; which is around two battalions strong; which we landed by sea. It has established itself on the eastern bank of the Incomati River, controlling the Ponte Marracuene, a bridge leading to Marracuene. Which is essentially a suburb of the capital.
“Our forward troops have reported sounds of gunfire from Maputo and the surrounding area. Which seems to confirm reports that RENAMO forces have tried to overthrow the FRELIMO government. Our troops have orders not to get involved with what could be the start of a new civil war. What we do next will depend on how their government responds to our ultimatum.”
“Thank you, General Smuts, that was comprehensive.” The Minister of Defence said. “Do you have any questions, Mr Ambassador?”
The US Ambassador nodded.
“Yes, Mr Minister. I am clear on your strategy regarding Zimbabwe and Mozambique. However, I’m not clear on what you ultimately intend to do about Angola and its Cuban backed invasions of Namibia and Botswana.”
“The Angolans and Cubans have invaded some pretty harsh territory, Mr Ambassador.” The Minister of Defence replied. “My government’s intention is to let them wither on the vine. General Smuts, that would be the defence force’s recommendation too?”
“Yes, Sir, it is. I’d rather let the enemy smash himself to pieces on our defences and let his logistics fall apart, than expend the lives of our own soldiers. If we wait, our counterattack will be a great deal easier. I must also express my thanks for the help of your Marines, both on the ground and in the air. Their help has been invaluable. May I ask if the United States plans to commit further military forces to southern Africa?”
The ambassador cleared his throat before replying.
“A very difficult question, General. I have been informed that there is an intention to perhaps deploy an armoured cavalry battalion from our Army National Guard. However, we have a great many commitments at the moment and some of our NATO allies may not like us sending troops to what they perceive to be a peripheral campaign. Also, I have to say that the SANDF is performing admirably at the moment. If there is any particular sort of assistance we can provide, I will be happy to pass that on to Washington.”
“With your permission, Minister, I’ll see if we can identify any particular help we need.” Smuts replied while thinking the ambassador had given a very good diplomatic answer.
1530 hours GMT. EPW Camp No.2, near Düsseldorf, FRG.
Staff Sergeant Macragge drank around half of the water in the plastic bottle before pouring the rest over his head. He ran his hands through his now greasy hair and across his face to clean off as much of the dirt from his skin as possible. There was still the ‘tang’ of CS gas and smell of smoke in the air. Macragge reflected on the violence of the last few hours. He had trained for riot duty, but he had not been quite prepared for the level of violence the Soviet prisoners had offered.
*
The prisoners, not in the slightest bit intimidated by the British soldiers drumming on their shields, had almost exploded out of the remaining huts and charged towards the shield line. They had wrapped rags torn from bed sheets around their lower face and had armed themselves with a variety of improvised weapons. On cue, soldiers behind the shield wall and up in the guard towers started firing more CS gas. Some prisoners did fall back, bent over, coughing their lungs up, their eyes streaming. However, most continued their charge, crashing into the shield wall. The line bent back slightly, before the soldiers recovered and pushed back.
Standing a short distance back with reserves, Staff Sergeant Macragge watched the chaos develop. As well as CS gas being fired, soldiers were also now firing ‘plastic bullets’ and ‘beanbag’ rounds at armed prisoners. He spotted part of the line sagging, as it was depleted by injured soldiers falling back.
“You four! Reinforce the line!” He yelled to a group of his ‘Redcaps’, pointing with his baton.
The West German water cannon moved forward and started to spray the water over the heads of the British, hitting some of rioters, knocking a few down and soaking all of them. The prisoners began to fall back, with the soldiers slowly advancing. Macragge could not help but feel something was wrong. Very wrong.
As the soldiers pushed in amongst the surviving buildings of the camp, forcing some of the prisoners back inside, the shield line split up into a number of different groups. It was also not possible for the water cannon to provide cover. The prisoners took advantage of this to counterattack, targeting some of the smaller groups of soldiers.
Macgragge spotted one particular group get surrounded by rioters and come under sustained attack. He raised his right arm and signalled with his baton to the reserve section besides him. They advanced in a flying wedge formation, pushing any small groups of rioters aside until they crashed into those surrounding the soldiers. It took a great deal of shoving with riot shields and baton strikes before the prisoners retreated, allowing the British soldiers to also withdraw and join up with a larger group.
The Staff Sergeant was just beginning to think that they were starting to get a handle on the riot when he heard the unmistakeable ‘pop’ ‘pop’ of small arms.
“Oh, f*ck.” He muttered.
*
“Staff Sergeant Macragge?” A voice asked.
Macragge looked up to see fellow ‘Redcap’, a Warrant Officer Class II, and a captain wearing the cap badge of the Royal Irish Regiment standing in front of him.
“Yes, Sir.” He replied, getting to his feet. He did not salute his superiors because he was not wearing any headgear.
“I’m Warrant Officer Wilson, SIB. I need to take a statement.” The WOII introduced himself, while the captain remained silent, which was a little odd. “This is Captain Connor; he has a few questions for you when I’m finished.”
Macragge nodded, knowing now who the captain must be. He was Intelligence Corps, no matter what his cap badge said.
“Well, let’s get this over with, Sir.” He said.
1536 hours GMT. CENTCOM HQ, Al-Udaid AB, Qatar.
CINCCENT sat in a secure conference room, waiting for his nightly call with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. General Abazid was pleased with how the campaign had gone since offensive operations had begun and had gotten commitments from the Gulf Allies to contribute forces for an operation to finish Saddam's regime once and for all.
The only questions, as far as anyone had been able to determine, was when the Iranians would come in, and also, what forces would be available and when. This time, no one wanted to make the mistake of ending the campaign early, as in 1991, which had left Saddam in power and also left a core of military forces to rebuild. This time, after the CW attacks on Kuwait, Saudi, and Bahrain on Day One, along with the Iraqi thrust into Kuwait, no one in the region wanted Saddam around any longer than necessary.
“General, we've got a connection.” His aide said.
“Thanks, Major.” Abazid replied as a large monitor screen came to life, and both General Meyers, the CJCS and the Vice-Chair, General Peter Pace, USMC appeared. Well, this is a surprise, Abazid thought. “Good afternoon, Sirs.” He said, remembering that it was afternoon in D.C.
“Evening, John.” Meyers said. “How's things going with that sandstorm?”
“I said it in the sitrep earlier today, but I'll go over it.” Abazid said. “It's still going strong, and will for at least another day, maybe two. Then we'll need a day to recover from it before X Corps can move forward and close up on the Euphrates.”
Meyers knew it, along with both General Pace and General Paul Schoonover, the Army Chief of Staff. And he just had a similar teleconference with SACEUR, who was pushing for CENTCOM to send him some reinforcements, as he was having some tension with NATO over forces going to the Middle East when the decisive theater was NATO Europe. “What good is it to have M-1s parked outside Saddam's palaces when T-80s are doing the same in Paris?” was General Baker's comment. Both Meyers and Pace knew it, as did the other members of the JCS. Baker added that he did understand the need to make sure that Saddam was defeated for good, but his AOR had to come first.
And yet, Pace had had a meeting himself with the Kuwaiti, Saudi, and Egyptian Defence Attaches, along with those from the other Gulf Allies. They had reiterated their insistence that Saddam and his regime had to go at some point. They didn't want Saddam contained so that ten years down the line, it all happened again. Both Saddam and his regime extinct was what they wanted. “The King wants Saddam's head on a pike,” the Saudi Attache had said, and the Kuwaiti Attache had a similar remark. Pace also knew that CINCCENT wanted Saddam's regime finished off for good. He did promise, on behalf of the Chairman and the SECDEF, that it would happen. The only question was when. And for that, Pace had no answer other than “As soon as additional forces become available.”
Both Meyers and Pace talked amongst themselves for a few moments, then Meyers nodded before speaking.
“On that subject, John, close up on the Euphrates River as soon as you can, destroy any enemy forces you encounter, and then assume a defensive posture. If you can grab a bridgehead north of the river, that's a bonus, but hold off any further advance to the north than that. You might talk to X Corps about screening Basra instead of taking it-for now, anyway.”
'So, we're pausing at the river instead of going north. We had approval two days ago to finish this', Abazid thought. Then he asked Meyers.
“That's it?” Abazid was exasperated but tried not to show it.
“No, John, and I wish it wasn't.” Said the Chairman. “A couple days ago, you were told that a division built around 38th ID was coming your way as they're ready to deploy?”
Abazid felt a pit form in his stomach. He knew what was likely coming, but he kept a straight face. “Yes, sir.”
“SACEUR needs them more than you. And there's a fair chance that the ships that take them to Europe may be picking up the 4th Armored, or elements thereof, and taking them to Europe as well. I know that stretches X Corps pretty thin, so can you hold what you have along the river with what you would have left?”
General Abazid thought for a moment. Then he nodded.
“Yes, sir, I think we can manage that, but I'll need the 278th ACR as a screening force to cover the area from As Samawah west to the end of the Euphrates River Valley. The river bends to the north at Samawah, and there's a gap that the Iraqis can use if they're thinking about a counterattack down the line. And sir, you can bet that the professionals at the Defence Ministry in Baghdad are thinking about that. I would, in their place.”
“Understood, John.” Meyers thought for a moment. “If sending 38th ID is what SACEUR needs, he'll get it. And if necessary, part or all of 4th AD as well. But... You do need a counterattack force and theatre reserve. We'll talk to the Brits and see if sending the 38th at least, and if needed, 4th AD, is enough for now. We'll ask that in exchange, the British Brigade stays with you, and you can use it as your theatre reserve.”
Abazid nodded.
“Sir, that would be greatly appreciated, because I need something other than an airborne battalion to do that job if it comes down to it.”
“We'll do that for you, and the Army tells me that there's one or two Guard brigades that were lower readiness, but they're finishing up their pre-deployment training. We'll work on getting one for you and that would help if 4th Armored does have to go to SACEUR.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Abazid said. Right now, he was silently fuming, but knew the Chairman was right. Europe was the main theatre at the moment. He had lost sight of the Big Picture and knew it.
Meyers then said.
“You'll still get your supply and munitions requests as we're able, and I know CENTAF is screaming for PGMs.” As is every other theatre air commander, the Chairman thought to himself.
Abazid nodded.
“Understood, Sir.” He was trying to hide his disappointment but knew the Chairman could see it.
CJCS knew that Abazid wasn’t pleased at this. And if he wasn't, the Gulf Allies weren't either. Another Iran-Iraq style stalemate, and positional warfare along the Euphrates, was something nobody wanted, but there it was.
“All right, John. We'll get out of your hair. I know General Schoonover did promise you a heavy division and some light infantry down the line. That promise still stands, but it's a question of when. We'll talk again tomorrow night your time.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Abazid said.
After the connection was closed, Abazid was calm, but furious. But he also knew the Chairman was right. NATO Europe was the decisive theatre, and SACEUR needed everything he could get. Yet... Though the Iraqis were degraded, they were not yet finished, and there was still quite a bit of their military industry and support infrastructure not yet touched by the air campaign. Not to mention there was a still potent WMD and TBM threat. Only then did he slam his fist on the desk, before calling for his deputy.
When Lt. Gen. Mike Sanford, USMC, came into the room, he was surprised when told the news.
“So, when are we going to Baghdad, and with what?” was his reply
“Not for a while, and with forces TBD.” Abazid told his deputy. “We have to wait until either 23rd Mech ID or 5th Armored are worked up and ready-and that won't be for several months at least.”
Those were the two divisions that the Chief of Staff had told him were most likely to be trained for this AO.
“So, what do we tell X Corps?” Sanford asked. “Other than 'Put away your maps and guidebooks for Baghdad. For the time being, anyway.'”
“Close up on the Euphrates, deal with any enemy forces in the way, and hold on the river. And be prepared for a possible order to move 4th Armored back to Saudi for redeployment elsewhere.”
“General, Corps won't like it,” Sanford pointed out. Those happened to be his thoughts as well. But he held them to himself for now.
Abazid nodded.
“I don't either. Get me X Corps on the line. This is something I need to tell them myself.”
*
In the Chairman's secure conference room, General Myers stood up and stretched his legs. “That went well, Pete. General Abazid was calmer than I expected.”
Pace nodded.
“I half expected him to go volcanic in his temper. Full Mount St. Helens, if you catch my drift.”
“I know, and I appreciate your report on the meeting you had with the Gulf States' Attaches' and the Egyptian one,” Meyers said. “All of them want the Baathist regime extinct and Saddam's head on a pike, in no particular order, no matter their disagreement on other issues. And frankly, I don't blame them.” The Chairman paused. “And you relayed my assurances-and those of the SecDEF-that this is just a pause in the campaign, not the end, even though of indefinite duration.”
“Yes, sir,” Pace replied.
Meyers then added.
“Just as SACEUR has his own political considerations in Brussels, so does Abazid in over half a dozen regional capitals. In fact...” The Chairman's voice trailed off as he was apparently thinking about something.
“Sir?” Pace asked.
“Pack your bags, Pete. I'll inform the Secretary and the President. You're going to Doha. I want you to brief our Allies in the region-and that includes the Egyptians as well-that we fully understand and appreciate their concerns about Saddam not being finished off. Remind them we're not ending the campaign in Iraq but pausing it. And as we get forces stood up, trained, and combat-ready, some will be deploying to Kuwait and Southern Iraq to finish the job. That's a promise that I plan on keeping.”
Pace nodded. He'd done his share of military diplomacy in the past, so this was nothing really new. But in wartime, now...
“There will be valid questions as to when, General.”
“Just tell them several months at least, Pete, because that's the best answer we can give. That's how it is. And there's no way around it.”
“Understood, sir.”
Meyers reached for a phone.
“I'll call up a plane for you, and while you're heading over, discuss this with the SecDEF and the President. I'll also recommend that the President make some phone calls to make things easier for you. Take whatever staff you need, get packed, and get to Andrews. You can sleep on the flight over.”
1645 hours. Near Süpplingen, FRG.
Units from 1 (Br) Corps’ Screening Force were cautiously probing towards Helmstedt as they sought to link up with the Parachute Regiment Group. The combined D Squadron, The North Irish Horse/1st Armoured Cavalry Squadron was still attached to 14th/20th King’s Hussars. Allowing squadrons from that regiment to rotate into reserve to rest.
*
Acting Sergeant Gerry Gleason was standing in his hatch keeping an eye out as he and his ‘wingman’ Scorpion covered the Troop commander, and his ‘wingman’ bounded forward to the next set of cover. The Scorpion from the troop that had been damaged outside Alfeld had returned, repaired, but now commanded by a lance-corporal transferred from 62nd Reserve Cavalry Squadron, rather than the injured troop sergeant.
Once the other pair of vehicles had reached cover, the two Scorpions commanded by Gleason emerged from concealment and sprinted across the open ground in front of them. There were meters from cover when an RPG round passed over the other Scorpion, narrowly missing the top of the turret.
“Feck!” Gleason. “Keep going, Brendan!” He yelled to his driver. “And jink like your life depends on it!”
The other two Scorpions of A Troop and the following vehicles from B Troop had evidently spotted the source of the anti-tank projectile as they opened fire on copse of trees with both their main guns and co-axial machine-guns. The Scorpions ceased firing, allowing three Stormer APCs from the APC troop to approach the now smoking copse. In addition to their crews, each Stormers was carrying eight infantrymen from 3 Platoon, A Company, 27th Infantry Battalion. The platoon had been attached to the squadron to add additional dismounts to the APC Troop and to provide extra security for squadron H.Q. It had an official establishment of thirty-one men, but had somehow grown to at least fifty and had brought a variety of additional weapons normally kept at company and even battalion level.
“Keep on your toes, Frank.” Gleason told his gunner. “They may need fire support in a hurry.”
“Yeah, I’m on it, Corp…I mean, Sergeant.” The gunner replied.
The infantrymen took no chances, firing LAW rockets into the copse, followed up by grenades, before they moved in. They emerged a few moments later, walking back to their APCs. They had found the remains of half a dozen Soviet stragglers and a few RPG-18s. The mix of 76mm HESH rounds, 7.62mm bullets, followed up by LAW rockets and grenades had not left much.
The isolated pocket of resistance overcome, the Irish soldiers resumed their advance towards Helmstedt. Other than a few groups of dejected Soviet soldiers, who wanted to surrender, the 1st Armoured Cavalry Squadron did not encounter any further enemy troops. They directed the Soviet soldiers to the rear and pushed on.
1735 hours GMT. H.Q NORTHAG (Forward), near Rheindahlen, FRG.
“CINCCENT is on the line for you, Sir.” One of COMNORTHAG’s aides informed him.
“On my way.” General Sir David Horne replied, pouring out the remains of the cup of coffee.
*
“Good afternoon, Sir, I take it we’ve gotten permission from SACEUR for the Lübeck operation?” Horne asked.
The image of CINCCENT nodded.
“We have, Sir David.” General Dieter Back replied. “The operation is to begin as soon as possible.”
“We need a few hours to finish up some of the planning, Sir and to choose a codename…” Horne began to say, but Back held his hand to stop him.
“The codename has already been chosen; it will be called Operation COBALT. Please also do not worry about the planning. Forward all of your existent plans to headquarters I (German) Corps. For the duration of COBALT, Generalleutnant Scholtz will command the operation. Controlling both his corps, the Dutch corps and co-ordinating with LANDJUT. He will report directly to this headquarters.”
Horne was taken totally by surprise, and it was evidently shown on his face.
“Do not worry, Sir David, this is not because I do not have a lack of confidence in yourself, or your headquarters. However, if Operation PRESTON, successful as it was, showed nothing else, it was a two corps counterattack needed a commander directly in charge, rather than an army group H.Q trying to control it, plus all of its other responsibilities at the same time.
“With COBALT under its own commander, you will be able to concentrate on your other existing responsibilities.”
“Yes, Sir, I understand.” Horne replied simply. “The advance of 1 (British) Corps is at a critical stage and I am trying to get General Dehaese to light a fire under his corps. But he had promised me a vigorous continuation to his counterattack if he has to relieve every division, brigade and battalion commander to do it.”
“I hope it does not come to that. The Belgians have been a little…um…slow recently, though.”
“They had a collective case of PTSD, I think, Sir. The Soviet attack that destroyed two of their brigades really shook the corps, but they seem to be getting their confidence back. They are making steady progress towards the border with East Germany.”
“Güt, güt. You can keep closer supervision of them without having to also command, COBALT. Well, I will not use up any more of your time, Sir David. Keep me apprised of your operations.”
With that Back terminated the call, leaving Horne somewhat dissatisfied. He summoned his deputy and Chief of Staff to let them know the news. Although, H.Q NORTHAG largely drew its staff from the peacetime headquarters of BAOR, for NATO purposes Horne had a West German deputy and Dutch Chief of Staff.
Once the two men had arrived and taken their seat, COMNORTHAG briefed them on the news. He gave them a moment to digest it before asking for their thought.
“Herr General, I have to admit that I think that General Back is correct that any two corps counterattacks should have a single commander.” His deputy, Generalleutnant Volker Wieker replied, prompting Horne to raise an eyebrow. “However, I am puzzled by the fact that he has decided that Scholtz should report to him and not this headquarters. He states that we are very busy, which is true, but it is not as if his headquarters is not even more so.”
“I agree with Volker, Sir.” Generaal-majoor Rob Bertholee, Horne’s Chief of Staff, agreed. “It is slightly strange.” He turned to Wieker. “You know Scholtz quite well, don’t you?”
Wieker nodded.
“We are rough contemporaries, and I commanded his corps before he did. He is very ambitious and would like to head the Bundeswehr one day. He is also very persuasive.”
“Well, Volker, I won’t fault a man for ambition. I want to be CGS and CDS myself one day. Generalleutnant Scholtz is also a talented commander. If he wants to operate directly under AFCENT for this operation at least, then good luck to him. I just wish he’d the common courtesy to let me know directly.
“Anyway, thank you, gentlemen, as observed, we’ve got a lot on our plates.”
***
[1] Details of SANDF deployments can be found here.
*
D+29
*
1501 hours GMT. SANDF National Command Centre, Pretoria, RSA.
While he was, of course, fully reconciled to civilian control, General Smuts did not generally appreciate visits by politicians to what he considered ‘his’ territory. In his opinion, ministers should set broad policy and strategy and then leave the military to get on with it. Today he had to give a detailed briefing to the Minister of Defence and the US Ambassador. Quite frankly, he felt he had much more important to do. Couldn’t these politicians read the detailed reports he was sending to the Defence Ministry?
“Thank you for hosting us, General Smuts.” The Minister of Defence said after taking his seat. “I’m sure you are a very busy man.” He added, perhaps sensing that despite his welcoming demeanour, Smuts was far from happy to see them.
“Welcome to the National Command Centre, gentlemen.” Smuts replied. “Rather than pull anyone away from their jobs, I’m going to deliver this briefing myself.”
He stood up, walked across to the far wall and pulled down a map that showed southern Africa from Namibia in the West to Mozambique. Smuts paused for a second to allow the two civilians to take it in.
“This, gentlemen, is our theatre of operations. Stretching from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean. “The logistical challenges of supporting military operations in even just one area of this theatre are immense, never mind in several places, as we are doing at the moment. Quite frankly the SANDF is operating right at the limit of its abilities.”
Again, Smuts paused for a moment, before pulling down a more detailed map showing northern Namibia and northwest Botswana.
“I am going to work from west to east, starting with Namibia. Our primary ground forces in the country comprise 9 Division, of one South African motorised brigade and one US Marine Brigade.” He paused for a second. “By the way, I have given you handouts with detailed Orders of Battle, which you can refer to if you wish. [1]
“A second motorised brigade raised from three independent battalions is transiting to join the division. The division is currently holding a line along with Namibian forces to the north of Grootfontein. Here.” He said pointing to the map. “Angolan and Cuban attacks have slowed over the last few days. It would appear to be a combination of them outrunning their logistics and the Cuban units beginning to hear about events in their homeland.”
“How have the Namibians performed?” The Minister of Defence wanted to know.
Smuts sighed, he hated to bad mouth an ally.
“Their performance has generally been bad. Apart from some units of 21 Motorised Infantry Brigade, their artillery units and Special Forces, most of their army broke on first contact with the Angolans and Cubans. They also lost most of their air force in the first few hours of the invasion and their navy is generally irrelevant.
To be fair to them, the Namibian Defence Force is not really trained for what has effectively been high intensity combat. Since its formation, it’s focus has been on counterinsurgency and peacekeeping. To their credit, once the front-line stabilised, the Namibians have begun to sort themselves out. They’ve reorganised units and relieved commanders when it was necessary. They should now be able to at least hold their ground and follow up any counterattack we may make.”
“And there is definite proof of Cuban involvement, General?” The US Ambassador asked.
The SANDF Chief of Staff nodded.
“The first indications came from your Marines, Mr Ambassador. I understand they have a number of men of Cuban ancestry who recognised the Cuban-Spanish dialect. We’ve confirmed their presence via radio intercepts and reconnaissance. Cuban troops have also been identified taking part in the invasion of northwest Botswana.
“As I mentioned earlier, events in Cuba seem to have reached their troops here. We’ve been helping to make sure that the message is spread further.” Smuts added with a smile. “However, for the moment it appears that the Cuban senior leadership and most of the middle rank officers are loyal to Raoul Castro’s regime.
“To move on to northwest Botswana, our 44 Parachute Regiment and the Botswanan 3rd Infantry Brigade has stopped the Angolan-Cuban advance just outside of Gumare. Here.” He said, again pointing to the map. “Our 84 Motorised Brigade is hastening its way up the A3 and A35 roads.” Smuts continued, tracing the route of the brigade with his right hand. “Its leading units are due to reach Gumare within 48 hours. Once in place, 84 Brigade will relieve 44 Parachute, which will then be withdrawn into strategic reserve.”
Smuts pulled down a new map. This one showed eastern Botswana and part of Zimbabwe and South Africa.
“In concert with the Botswanan Army, we have won a comprehensive victory in eastern Botswana. The Zimbabwean 1st and 5th Brigades are assessed as being completely destroyed. With no Zimbabwean troops left in Botswana. Their defeat did lead to Mugabe deploying his strategic reserve, their Mechanised Brigade, most of the Presidential Guard, and requested assistance from the Soviet advisory group. A Soviet battalion group is believed to have joined the Mechanised Brigade.
“The Mechanised Brigade has not reached the Botswanan front, instead, it has been deployed to southern Zimbabwe to counter our Operation Salisbury. Our 7 Division has pushed up the A4 highway, with a secondary thrust up the A6. As a subsidiary part of Salisbury, 47 Brigade has advanced from northeast Botswana along the A7 towards Plumtree. Our intention is to draw in the Zimbabwean Army and its Soviet ‘advisors’ and render as many of them ‘combat ineffective’ as possible. It is not about taking territory.”
The US Ambassador noticed that the Minister of Defence smiled when Smuts said ‘Salisbury’ and asked why.
“Ah, Salisbury was the name that Harare was known by before official independence. It was a rather clever choice of name, I think. Mugabe probably thinks it means we mean to reimpose British rule or take over the country ourselves.
“Anyway, I am distracting you from your briefing, General.”
“Thank you, Minister.”
Smuts pulled down his last map. This one was of the area around Maputo, the capital of Mozambique.
“With what is in effect an unofficial cease-fire in place, the forward troops 8 Division have halted at Catembe, here.” He said, tapping part of the map. “Going any further north would involve a river assault crossing and, I don’t think that at the moment we want to push into Maputo itself. However, we have opened up an alternative advance north, with the possibility of advancing to the west of Maputo. Units of 82 Mechanised Brigade have halted outside Boane, here.
“To the northeast of Maputo, we have Force 136; which is around two battalions strong; which we landed by sea. It has established itself on the eastern bank of the Incomati River, controlling the Ponte Marracuene, a bridge leading to Marracuene. Which is essentially a suburb of the capital.
“Our forward troops have reported sounds of gunfire from Maputo and the surrounding area. Which seems to confirm reports that RENAMO forces have tried to overthrow the FRELIMO government. Our troops have orders not to get involved with what could be the start of a new civil war. What we do next will depend on how their government responds to our ultimatum.”
“Thank you, General Smuts, that was comprehensive.” The Minister of Defence said. “Do you have any questions, Mr Ambassador?”
The US Ambassador nodded.
“Yes, Mr Minister. I am clear on your strategy regarding Zimbabwe and Mozambique. However, I’m not clear on what you ultimately intend to do about Angola and its Cuban backed invasions of Namibia and Botswana.”
“The Angolans and Cubans have invaded some pretty harsh territory, Mr Ambassador.” The Minister of Defence replied. “My government’s intention is to let them wither on the vine. General Smuts, that would be the defence force’s recommendation too?”
“Yes, Sir, it is. I’d rather let the enemy smash himself to pieces on our defences and let his logistics fall apart, than expend the lives of our own soldiers. If we wait, our counterattack will be a great deal easier. I must also express my thanks for the help of your Marines, both on the ground and in the air. Their help has been invaluable. May I ask if the United States plans to commit further military forces to southern Africa?”
The ambassador cleared his throat before replying.
“A very difficult question, General. I have been informed that there is an intention to perhaps deploy an armoured cavalry battalion from our Army National Guard. However, we have a great many commitments at the moment and some of our NATO allies may not like us sending troops to what they perceive to be a peripheral campaign. Also, I have to say that the SANDF is performing admirably at the moment. If there is any particular sort of assistance we can provide, I will be happy to pass that on to Washington.”
“With your permission, Minister, I’ll see if we can identify any particular help we need.” Smuts replied while thinking the ambassador had given a very good diplomatic answer.
1530 hours GMT. EPW Camp No.2, near Düsseldorf, FRG.
Staff Sergeant Macragge drank around half of the water in the plastic bottle before pouring the rest over his head. He ran his hands through his now greasy hair and across his face to clean off as much of the dirt from his skin as possible. There was still the ‘tang’ of CS gas and smell of smoke in the air. Macragge reflected on the violence of the last few hours. He had trained for riot duty, but he had not been quite prepared for the level of violence the Soviet prisoners had offered.
*
The prisoners, not in the slightest bit intimidated by the British soldiers drumming on their shields, had almost exploded out of the remaining huts and charged towards the shield line. They had wrapped rags torn from bed sheets around their lower face and had armed themselves with a variety of improvised weapons. On cue, soldiers behind the shield wall and up in the guard towers started firing more CS gas. Some prisoners did fall back, bent over, coughing their lungs up, their eyes streaming. However, most continued their charge, crashing into the shield wall. The line bent back slightly, before the soldiers recovered and pushed back.
Standing a short distance back with reserves, Staff Sergeant Macragge watched the chaos develop. As well as CS gas being fired, soldiers were also now firing ‘plastic bullets’ and ‘beanbag’ rounds at armed prisoners. He spotted part of the line sagging, as it was depleted by injured soldiers falling back.
“You four! Reinforce the line!” He yelled to a group of his ‘Redcaps’, pointing with his baton.
The West German water cannon moved forward and started to spray the water over the heads of the British, hitting some of rioters, knocking a few down and soaking all of them. The prisoners began to fall back, with the soldiers slowly advancing. Macragge could not help but feel something was wrong. Very wrong.
As the soldiers pushed in amongst the surviving buildings of the camp, forcing some of the prisoners back inside, the shield line split up into a number of different groups. It was also not possible for the water cannon to provide cover. The prisoners took advantage of this to counterattack, targeting some of the smaller groups of soldiers.
Macgragge spotted one particular group get surrounded by rioters and come under sustained attack. He raised his right arm and signalled with his baton to the reserve section besides him. They advanced in a flying wedge formation, pushing any small groups of rioters aside until they crashed into those surrounding the soldiers. It took a great deal of shoving with riot shields and baton strikes before the prisoners retreated, allowing the British soldiers to also withdraw and join up with a larger group.
The Staff Sergeant was just beginning to think that they were starting to get a handle on the riot when he heard the unmistakeable ‘pop’ ‘pop’ of small arms.
“Oh, f*ck.” He muttered.
*
“Staff Sergeant Macragge?” A voice asked.
Macragge looked up to see fellow ‘Redcap’, a Warrant Officer Class II, and a captain wearing the cap badge of the Royal Irish Regiment standing in front of him.
“Yes, Sir.” He replied, getting to his feet. He did not salute his superiors because he was not wearing any headgear.
“I’m Warrant Officer Wilson, SIB. I need to take a statement.” The WOII introduced himself, while the captain remained silent, which was a little odd. “This is Captain Connor; he has a few questions for you when I’m finished.”
Macragge nodded, knowing now who the captain must be. He was Intelligence Corps, no matter what his cap badge said.
“Well, let’s get this over with, Sir.” He said.
1536 hours GMT. CENTCOM HQ, Al-Udaid AB, Qatar.
CINCCENT sat in a secure conference room, waiting for his nightly call with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. General Abazid was pleased with how the campaign had gone since offensive operations had begun and had gotten commitments from the Gulf Allies to contribute forces for an operation to finish Saddam's regime once and for all.
The only questions, as far as anyone had been able to determine, was when the Iranians would come in, and also, what forces would be available and when. This time, no one wanted to make the mistake of ending the campaign early, as in 1991, which had left Saddam in power and also left a core of military forces to rebuild. This time, after the CW attacks on Kuwait, Saudi, and Bahrain on Day One, along with the Iraqi thrust into Kuwait, no one in the region wanted Saddam around any longer than necessary.
“General, we've got a connection.” His aide said.
“Thanks, Major.” Abazid replied as a large monitor screen came to life, and both General Meyers, the CJCS and the Vice-Chair, General Peter Pace, USMC appeared. Well, this is a surprise, Abazid thought. “Good afternoon, Sirs.” He said, remembering that it was afternoon in D.C.
“Evening, John.” Meyers said. “How's things going with that sandstorm?”
“I said it in the sitrep earlier today, but I'll go over it.” Abazid said. “It's still going strong, and will for at least another day, maybe two. Then we'll need a day to recover from it before X Corps can move forward and close up on the Euphrates.”
Meyers knew it, along with both General Pace and General Paul Schoonover, the Army Chief of Staff. And he just had a similar teleconference with SACEUR, who was pushing for CENTCOM to send him some reinforcements, as he was having some tension with NATO over forces going to the Middle East when the decisive theater was NATO Europe. “What good is it to have M-1s parked outside Saddam's palaces when T-80s are doing the same in Paris?” was General Baker's comment. Both Meyers and Pace knew it, as did the other members of the JCS. Baker added that he did understand the need to make sure that Saddam was defeated for good, but his AOR had to come first.
And yet, Pace had had a meeting himself with the Kuwaiti, Saudi, and Egyptian Defence Attaches, along with those from the other Gulf Allies. They had reiterated their insistence that Saddam and his regime had to go at some point. They didn't want Saddam contained so that ten years down the line, it all happened again. Both Saddam and his regime extinct was what they wanted. “The King wants Saddam's head on a pike,” the Saudi Attache had said, and the Kuwaiti Attache had a similar remark. Pace also knew that CINCCENT wanted Saddam's regime finished off for good. He did promise, on behalf of the Chairman and the SECDEF, that it would happen. The only question was when. And for that, Pace had no answer other than “As soon as additional forces become available.”
Both Meyers and Pace talked amongst themselves for a few moments, then Meyers nodded before speaking.
“On that subject, John, close up on the Euphrates River as soon as you can, destroy any enemy forces you encounter, and then assume a defensive posture. If you can grab a bridgehead north of the river, that's a bonus, but hold off any further advance to the north than that. You might talk to X Corps about screening Basra instead of taking it-for now, anyway.”
'So, we're pausing at the river instead of going north. We had approval two days ago to finish this', Abazid thought. Then he asked Meyers.
“That's it?” Abazid was exasperated but tried not to show it.
“No, John, and I wish it wasn't.” Said the Chairman. “A couple days ago, you were told that a division built around 38th ID was coming your way as they're ready to deploy?”
Abazid felt a pit form in his stomach. He knew what was likely coming, but he kept a straight face. “Yes, sir.”
“SACEUR needs them more than you. And there's a fair chance that the ships that take them to Europe may be picking up the 4th Armored, or elements thereof, and taking them to Europe as well. I know that stretches X Corps pretty thin, so can you hold what you have along the river with what you would have left?”
General Abazid thought for a moment. Then he nodded.
“Yes, sir, I think we can manage that, but I'll need the 278th ACR as a screening force to cover the area from As Samawah west to the end of the Euphrates River Valley. The river bends to the north at Samawah, and there's a gap that the Iraqis can use if they're thinking about a counterattack down the line. And sir, you can bet that the professionals at the Defence Ministry in Baghdad are thinking about that. I would, in their place.”
“Understood, John.” Meyers thought for a moment. “If sending 38th ID is what SACEUR needs, he'll get it. And if necessary, part or all of 4th AD as well. But... You do need a counterattack force and theatre reserve. We'll talk to the Brits and see if sending the 38th at least, and if needed, 4th AD, is enough for now. We'll ask that in exchange, the British Brigade stays with you, and you can use it as your theatre reserve.”
Abazid nodded.
“Sir, that would be greatly appreciated, because I need something other than an airborne battalion to do that job if it comes down to it.”
“We'll do that for you, and the Army tells me that there's one or two Guard brigades that were lower readiness, but they're finishing up their pre-deployment training. We'll work on getting one for you and that would help if 4th Armored does have to go to SACEUR.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Abazid said. Right now, he was silently fuming, but knew the Chairman was right. Europe was the main theatre at the moment. He had lost sight of the Big Picture and knew it.
Meyers then said.
“You'll still get your supply and munitions requests as we're able, and I know CENTAF is screaming for PGMs.” As is every other theatre air commander, the Chairman thought to himself.
Abazid nodded.
“Understood, Sir.” He was trying to hide his disappointment but knew the Chairman could see it.
CJCS knew that Abazid wasn’t pleased at this. And if he wasn't, the Gulf Allies weren't either. Another Iran-Iraq style stalemate, and positional warfare along the Euphrates, was something nobody wanted, but there it was.
“All right, John. We'll get out of your hair. I know General Schoonover did promise you a heavy division and some light infantry down the line. That promise still stands, but it's a question of when. We'll talk again tomorrow night your time.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Abazid said.
After the connection was closed, Abazid was calm, but furious. But he also knew the Chairman was right. NATO Europe was the decisive theatre, and SACEUR needed everything he could get. Yet... Though the Iraqis were degraded, they were not yet finished, and there was still quite a bit of their military industry and support infrastructure not yet touched by the air campaign. Not to mention there was a still potent WMD and TBM threat. Only then did he slam his fist on the desk, before calling for his deputy.
When Lt. Gen. Mike Sanford, USMC, came into the room, he was surprised when told the news.
“So, when are we going to Baghdad, and with what?” was his reply
“Not for a while, and with forces TBD.” Abazid told his deputy. “We have to wait until either 23rd Mech ID or 5th Armored are worked up and ready-and that won't be for several months at least.”
Those were the two divisions that the Chief of Staff had told him were most likely to be trained for this AO.
“So, what do we tell X Corps?” Sanford asked. “Other than 'Put away your maps and guidebooks for Baghdad. For the time being, anyway.'”
“Close up on the Euphrates, deal with any enemy forces in the way, and hold on the river. And be prepared for a possible order to move 4th Armored back to Saudi for redeployment elsewhere.”
“General, Corps won't like it,” Sanford pointed out. Those happened to be his thoughts as well. But he held them to himself for now.
Abazid nodded.
“I don't either. Get me X Corps on the line. This is something I need to tell them myself.”
*
In the Chairman's secure conference room, General Myers stood up and stretched his legs. “That went well, Pete. General Abazid was calmer than I expected.”
Pace nodded.
“I half expected him to go volcanic in his temper. Full Mount St. Helens, if you catch my drift.”
“I know, and I appreciate your report on the meeting you had with the Gulf States' Attaches' and the Egyptian one,” Meyers said. “All of them want the Baathist regime extinct and Saddam's head on a pike, in no particular order, no matter their disagreement on other issues. And frankly, I don't blame them.” The Chairman paused. “And you relayed my assurances-and those of the SecDEF-that this is just a pause in the campaign, not the end, even though of indefinite duration.”
“Yes, sir,” Pace replied.
Meyers then added.
“Just as SACEUR has his own political considerations in Brussels, so does Abazid in over half a dozen regional capitals. In fact...” The Chairman's voice trailed off as he was apparently thinking about something.
“Sir?” Pace asked.
“Pack your bags, Pete. I'll inform the Secretary and the President. You're going to Doha. I want you to brief our Allies in the region-and that includes the Egyptians as well-that we fully understand and appreciate their concerns about Saddam not being finished off. Remind them we're not ending the campaign in Iraq but pausing it. And as we get forces stood up, trained, and combat-ready, some will be deploying to Kuwait and Southern Iraq to finish the job. That's a promise that I plan on keeping.”
Pace nodded. He'd done his share of military diplomacy in the past, so this was nothing really new. But in wartime, now...
“There will be valid questions as to when, General.”
“Just tell them several months at least, Pete, because that's the best answer we can give. That's how it is. And there's no way around it.”
“Understood, sir.”
Meyers reached for a phone.
“I'll call up a plane for you, and while you're heading over, discuss this with the SecDEF and the President. I'll also recommend that the President make some phone calls to make things easier for you. Take whatever staff you need, get packed, and get to Andrews. You can sleep on the flight over.”
1645 hours. Near Süpplingen, FRG.
Units from 1 (Br) Corps’ Screening Force were cautiously probing towards Helmstedt as they sought to link up with the Parachute Regiment Group. The combined D Squadron, The North Irish Horse/1st Armoured Cavalry Squadron was still attached to 14th/20th King’s Hussars. Allowing squadrons from that regiment to rotate into reserve to rest.
*
Acting Sergeant Gerry Gleason was standing in his hatch keeping an eye out as he and his ‘wingman’ Scorpion covered the Troop commander, and his ‘wingman’ bounded forward to the next set of cover. The Scorpion from the troop that had been damaged outside Alfeld had returned, repaired, but now commanded by a lance-corporal transferred from 62nd Reserve Cavalry Squadron, rather than the injured troop sergeant.
Once the other pair of vehicles had reached cover, the two Scorpions commanded by Gleason emerged from concealment and sprinted across the open ground in front of them. There were meters from cover when an RPG round passed over the other Scorpion, narrowly missing the top of the turret.
“Feck!” Gleason. “Keep going, Brendan!” He yelled to his driver. “And jink like your life depends on it!”
The other two Scorpions of A Troop and the following vehicles from B Troop had evidently spotted the source of the anti-tank projectile as they opened fire on copse of trees with both their main guns and co-axial machine-guns. The Scorpions ceased firing, allowing three Stormer APCs from the APC troop to approach the now smoking copse. In addition to their crews, each Stormers was carrying eight infantrymen from 3 Platoon, A Company, 27th Infantry Battalion. The platoon had been attached to the squadron to add additional dismounts to the APC Troop and to provide extra security for squadron H.Q. It had an official establishment of thirty-one men, but had somehow grown to at least fifty and had brought a variety of additional weapons normally kept at company and even battalion level.
“Keep on your toes, Frank.” Gleason told his gunner. “They may need fire support in a hurry.”
“Yeah, I’m on it, Corp…I mean, Sergeant.” The gunner replied.
The infantrymen took no chances, firing LAW rockets into the copse, followed up by grenades, before they moved in. They emerged a few moments later, walking back to their APCs. They had found the remains of half a dozen Soviet stragglers and a few RPG-18s. The mix of 76mm HESH rounds, 7.62mm bullets, followed up by LAW rockets and grenades had not left much.
The isolated pocket of resistance overcome, the Irish soldiers resumed their advance towards Helmstedt. Other than a few groups of dejected Soviet soldiers, who wanted to surrender, the 1st Armoured Cavalry Squadron did not encounter any further enemy troops. They directed the Soviet soldiers to the rear and pushed on.
1735 hours GMT. H.Q NORTHAG (Forward), near Rheindahlen, FRG.
“CINCCENT is on the line for you, Sir.” One of COMNORTHAG’s aides informed him.
“On my way.” General Sir David Horne replied, pouring out the remains of the cup of coffee.
*
“Good afternoon, Sir, I take it we’ve gotten permission from SACEUR for the Lübeck operation?” Horne asked.
The image of CINCCENT nodded.
“We have, Sir David.” General Dieter Back replied. “The operation is to begin as soon as possible.”
“We need a few hours to finish up some of the planning, Sir and to choose a codename…” Horne began to say, but Back held his hand to stop him.
“The codename has already been chosen; it will be called Operation COBALT. Please also do not worry about the planning. Forward all of your existent plans to headquarters I (German) Corps. For the duration of COBALT, Generalleutnant Scholtz will command the operation. Controlling both his corps, the Dutch corps and co-ordinating with LANDJUT. He will report directly to this headquarters.”
Horne was taken totally by surprise, and it was evidently shown on his face.
“Do not worry, Sir David, this is not because I do not have a lack of confidence in yourself, or your headquarters. However, if Operation PRESTON, successful as it was, showed nothing else, it was a two corps counterattack needed a commander directly in charge, rather than an army group H.Q trying to control it, plus all of its other responsibilities at the same time.
“With COBALT under its own commander, you will be able to concentrate on your other existing responsibilities.”
“Yes, Sir, I understand.” Horne replied simply. “The advance of 1 (British) Corps is at a critical stage and I am trying to get General Dehaese to light a fire under his corps. But he had promised me a vigorous continuation to his counterattack if he has to relieve every division, brigade and battalion commander to do it.”
“I hope it does not come to that. The Belgians have been a little…um…slow recently, though.”
“They had a collective case of PTSD, I think, Sir. The Soviet attack that destroyed two of their brigades really shook the corps, but they seem to be getting their confidence back. They are making steady progress towards the border with East Germany.”
“Güt, güt. You can keep closer supervision of them without having to also command, COBALT. Well, I will not use up any more of your time, Sir David. Keep me apprised of your operations.”
With that Back terminated the call, leaving Horne somewhat dissatisfied. He summoned his deputy and Chief of Staff to let them know the news. Although, H.Q NORTHAG largely drew its staff from the peacetime headquarters of BAOR, for NATO purposes Horne had a West German deputy and Dutch Chief of Staff.
Once the two men had arrived and taken their seat, COMNORTHAG briefed them on the news. He gave them a moment to digest it before asking for their thought.
“Herr General, I have to admit that I think that General Back is correct that any two corps counterattacks should have a single commander.” His deputy, Generalleutnant Volker Wieker replied, prompting Horne to raise an eyebrow. “However, I am puzzled by the fact that he has decided that Scholtz should report to him and not this headquarters. He states that we are very busy, which is true, but it is not as if his headquarters is not even more so.”
“I agree with Volker, Sir.” Generaal-majoor Rob Bertholee, Horne’s Chief of Staff, agreed. “It is slightly strange.” He turned to Wieker. “You know Scholtz quite well, don’t you?”
Wieker nodded.
“We are rough contemporaries, and I commanded his corps before he did. He is very ambitious and would like to head the Bundeswehr one day. He is also very persuasive.”
“Well, Volker, I won’t fault a man for ambition. I want to be CGS and CDS myself one day. Generalleutnant Scholtz is also a talented commander. If he wants to operate directly under AFCENT for this operation at least, then good luck to him. I just wish he’d the common courtesy to let me know directly.
“Anyway, thank you, gentlemen, as observed, we’ve got a lot on our plates.”
***
[1] Details of SANDF deployments can be found here.