The Last War? : Chapter 396

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Matt Wiser.

*

D+34

*

0321 hours GMT. Sentralanlegget, Hole, Norway.
The Norwegian Prime Minister longed to return to Oslo. He was getting fed up of the claustrophobic atmosphere in the Sentralanlegget bunker. The PM had proposed that he and a few cabinet members relocate to the smaller, 1980s era war headquarters bunker under the PM's office in the capital. However, when a vote had been taken, the majority of his colleagues had been in favour of remaining in the Sentralanlegget. Senior military officers had also recommended staying in the older facility and only using its Oslo counterpart as a reserve; a small team led by a couple of junior ministers were already using the bunker. The Service Chiefs and senior civil servants considered that the smaller bunker was only really suitable for short-term occupation by a smaller number of persons (the Sentralanlegget could accommodate 600). It was also harder to defend.

*

The PM had found that the only person he could really confide in was the King. At the regular private audiences to brief the Monarch about the progress of the war, he had also expressed his frustrations with being confined. The King had listened sympathetically before replying.

“I quite understand, Prime Minister. They're keeping me locked up down here too.” The King had said. “My second-cousin Elizabeth and her children are allowed out to see their people. Same with my Dutch, Belgian and Swedish relatives. Only my Danish second-cousin is in the same position as me. She wants to get out and about too!”

The PM was a little surprised by the last comment. He had not realised that his King and the Danish Queen had been in contact since the start of the war.

“I find myself being envious of my son. At least he is doing something useful in the navy!
“Perhaps, we can both convince your Cabinet colleagues to grant us parole! The Norwegian people need to see their King and Prime Minister.”
“I'll see what I can do, Sir.” The PM replied, feeling that at least some of the load had been taken off his shoulders.

*

The Prime Minister's schedule was so busy these days, that he found himself having to have the less important ones at odd hours of the day. Such as the early hours of the morning. It cut into his sleep, which did nothing to improve his mood. Today he had a meeting via video link with the Mayor of the Finnmark County Municipality (Finnmark fylkeskommune). Quite what the Mayor wanted, the PM could not fathom. Adding some tension to the meeting was the fact that the Mayor was a member of the Arbeiderpartiet (the Labour Party), while the PM belonged to the Kristelig Folkeparti (the Christian Democratic Party). In theory, national politics had been put aside for the duration of the war, but in reality, like in other countries, they did not entirely go away. There was also the ever present tension between the north of Norway and its more populous south. After exchanging pleasantries, the PM got down to business.

“What can I do for you this morning?” He asked. “Is it morning? Or the still the middle of the night?” The PM added, attempting a joke, which fell flat.
“Prime Minister, I will get straight to the point.” The Mayor replied. “When can the people of Finnmark start to return to their homes? The Soviet invaders have been driven out of all but a small area of our nation, yet many of our people are still refugees within their own country.”

The PM was a little taken aback. Was this question not really better directed to the Ministry of Social Affairs, or maybe the Minister of Defence, rather than the PM. However, the question had been posted to him, so he would answer it.

“Finnmark is still a war-zone. It's not safe for civilians.” He said simply. “Moreover, during our withdrawal to the main defence position in Troms, we carried out a policy of scorched-earth. Denying the invaders as many resources as possible. I am sorry to say that we were very thorough. Very few houses and public buildings have survived. Finnmark is in essence a desert. What resources are there are needed by our military and that of our allies. I cannot in conscience send civilians into such a situation. We are also expecting renewed Soviet grounf attacks in the next few days.”
“My administration and the people of Finnmark never agreed to this 'scorched-earth' policy, Prime Minister.” The Mayor replied. “We never asked to become a battlefield, and yet we suffer.”

'While the south remains relatively safe' was the unsaid coda to that statement.

“May I remind you that the policy was agreed by almost all parties in Norway, and has been government policy, by all administrations, since as far back as the 1950s. It was not a policy taken lightly, but one that is vital to the survival of the Norwegian nation.
“As soon as it is safe to allow people to start to return to their homes, they will be allowed to do so. Moreover, I promise that the whole resources of Norway will be allocated to rebuilding Finnmark. We owe those who call the county their home a great deal.”
“We will hold you to that promise, Prime Minister.” The Mayor declared.
“I would not expect anything less.”

0332 Hours GMT. Near Pyongyang, DPRK.
For the occupants of North Korea's only POW camp complex (as far as they knew) it had been a normal day. The guards had woken them up as usual in the morning, and after what passed for breakfast, they had been put to work in their respective compounds. For the North Koreans were pushing a “No Work, No Eat”, policy, despite the Geneva Convention's prohibition on officer POWs being made to work. In both compounds, the NK guards had made the POWs start gardens, along with working on things like dumping waste buckets or cleaning a compound's bath area.

Lieutenant Commander Kristine Redmond stood outside the women's compound prison building, with the other female POWs lined up behind her. She wanted to show their North Korean captors that they were still military, even though the NK Camp Commander still insisted that they were not POWs. Which was something that the North Vietnamese had maintained up until after the Paris Cease-Fire at the end of that war with their American prisoners. As she watched the Commandant, Sour K, and his Political Officer/Interpreter Lt. Fuzz approach them with several guards in tow, Commander Redmond wondered what his reaction would be.

She didn't have long to wait, for the Commandant simply nodded to a guard, who gave her a rifle butt to the abdomen, then smacked her on both the back and buttocks with a bamboo stick before shoving her back into line with the others.

“Well?” Flight Lt. Katrina Taylor, RAAF, asked in a soft voice.

Redmond winced with pain, but still grinned.

“Didn't last long, but it was worth it.”
“SILENCE!” Shouted a guard.

Then Sour K spoke, through Lt. Fuzz.

“Again, you have received a reminder that you are NOT Prisoners of War, but are Enemies of the Korean People!” He then went on, ranting about the “Korean People's Army turning Seoul and Inchon into seas of fire and rubble”, the advance to “liberate Taejon” and that the “Korean People's Air Forces have complete control of the skies.”

In your dreams, Redmond thought. She knew all too well the price of saying that out loud, recalling the torture session to force her to “Make your choice.”

“And remember this well: you all still have a choice to make.” Sour K said, as if he had read her mind.

He started to go on, but the main gate to the compound opened, and a ZIL-157 truck came in. Sour K, Lt. Fuzz, and four guards went to meet the truck, and after it stopped, two very bedraggled figures came out, who then helped a third who was on crutches. Sour K then gave his usual harangue, then the guards prodded the three to where the others were gathered.

“Once again, here is proof the Korean People's Air Forces and Air Defence Forces have control of the skies over the Korean Peninsula,” Sour K said as guards shoved the three new arrivals, all in the same blue pyjamas as the other prisoners, towards the others. “And remember this: none of you will go home until America and its lackeys”-he glared at Katrina Taylor- “have signed peace treaties with the DPRK and have paid compensation for all the damages they have inflicted on the Korean People!”

He glared at them, especially the new arrivals, before turning and walking back to the gate that led to the command/staff/interrogation area, taking several guards and the Political Officer with him.

The new arrivals each let out a deep breath.

“Heard enough of that in Pyongyang,” one said, her brown hair hanging loose and no longer in a military required bun. She looked at the others. “And you guys get this all the time?”

Lieutenant Tracy McNichol, USN, nodded.

“We do.”
“It's gotten to the point where we know what he's going to say before he says it.” Commander Redmond said, introducing herself and the others. “And you guys are?”
“Michelle Moore.” The first one said. “Captain, Air Force.” She added, “A-10 pilot. Took a couple of SA-13s and even the Hog has a point where you go skydiving.”

WO2 Amanda Cole stared at her.

“I've heard your voice before, on the radio. Last November. Rescue exercise, and you were one of the 'downed aircrew'.”

Moore's jaw dropped.

“Cougar Three-two? You were in one of the Apaches.”
“I was,” Cole replied. “Small world.”
“Yeah,” Moore said. She turned to another with cropped black hair. “Our squid.”
“Sharon Young.” The black-haired one nodded. “Lieutenant, Navy.”
“Constellation?” Redmond asked.

Young nodded.

“Saints,” she said. That meant VFA-163. “Took a flak hit to the tail, and I'm why she's here.”

She nodded at the third new arrival, a young blonde still getting used to crutches.

“Senior Airman Erin Mitchell, Ma'am.” The woman said. “HH-60, and we went in on the rescue. They were waiting for us, and the Norks had a lot of flak and small-arms fire. Took a hit to the tail rotor and down we went. Broke the leg in the crash, and a PJ dragged me clear. The pilot got out, and that's it. Copilot was trapped in the cockpit and the NK killed him when they got to the wreck. The second PJ and the other door gunner were both killed in the crash. Then the NK arrived and beat the crap out of us.”
“And they took you up the line to Pyongyang, and put you all through the wringer,” Redmond said. It wasn't a question.
“Got the scars to prove it.” Moore said, rolling up her sleeve. The rope burns and marks from torture cuffs were still quite fresh. The other two did the same.

Capt. Cheri Krause nodded.

“That's us,” she said.
“Yeah,” Redmond said. “More than once.”
“Ma'am?” Young asked. “What'd that NK officer mean by 'Making a choice?'”

Redmond, Krause, and Cole looked at each other, then they explained what had happened when they had been asked. The stints they had in the torture rooms were still very fresh in their minds. When they finished, Moore nodded.

“Not good. We just came out of the frying pan, and now we'll end up in the fire at some point.”

The SRO nodded, then Redmond said.

“You guys are going to get your turn, and Katrina? Tracy? You guys, too. I won't sugar-coat it. You're going to have to hold out as long as you can, short of permanent maiming. And when they ask who told you to resist? Say it was your instructors back in training.”

The new arrivals nodded.

“Will do.” Moore said. Then she glanced to her right, and saw Lt. Fuzz and several guards coming with a food cart and three of them had bundles of prison gear. “That NK officer's back.”
“Chowtime.” Tracy McNichol said.

Redmond nodded.

“Okay, just play it cool. Remember your SERE, and we're all going to get through this.”
“You got it, Commander.” Young said.

The POWs got their food, and the new arrivals were issued their prison gear, before being locked in their cells. Though half of the day was gone, no one knew what the other half would bring.

0336 hours GMT. H.Q Joint Forces New Zealand, Trentham Military Camp.
Major General Sykes took his seat in the main conference room at the same table as the Maritime Component Commander, the Land Component Commander and Air Component Commander. Various staff officers also sat around the table, while more junior officers sat on chairs against the walls.

“Sorry to take you away from your work.” Sykes said to his subordinates. “However, we need to do a bit of brainstorming. Primarily we need to find a way of protecting all the additional Key Points we've been assigned, while at the same time not weakening the protection of the existing ones. Brigadier Rose has already proposed making more use of the Home Guard, which I agree with. That means doing what we can to issue them with more firearms. How is that coming?”

Brigadier Rose leaned back to take a document from one of his aides.

“It's not so much that there is a shortage of weapons, Sir, but one of training.” He said. “We were quite surprised at just how many old Lee-Enfields we had in storage in good condition. We are a bit short on .303, but the Aussies are supplying that. Now it's really just a matter of qualifying what are at the moment a bunch of civilians in the use of firearms and basic tactics. A few Home Guard units have SLRs as their service rifles, but they are in areas which we regard as especially vulnerable. Like the Beehive and the Chatham Islands. At their current level of training, I would not want to give more units semi-automatic rifles. However, in a couple of months from now, that should be a different matter. By then we should also have a surplus of SLRs, as more F88s are due to have been delivered from Australia.
“As for Key Point protection, me and my staff have been working with Air Commodore Moore and his staff, and we think we have come up with a solution.”

Sykes looked across at the Air Component Commander.

“Air power saves the day, eh?”

Air Commodore Alan Moore smiled in response.

“Well, perhaps, Sir.” He replied. “When we put our collective heads together we decided that what we need is a force-multiplier of some kind, and we think we've come up with it. We can use light aircraft and helicopters to help protect the Key Points. We can immediately assign some of our Airtrainers to the job, but there are a lot of civilian light aircraft and choppers that we could requisition. For example, there are a few small airlines that use the GA-8 Airvan, which is the civilian version of the Wirraway II. They could be used to mount aerial patrols around K.Ps, carrying one, or two trained observers. Aircraft would be able to cover a lot more ground in a shorter time than ground patrols.”
“That would free up personnel to mount guard at the sites themselves, Sir.” Brigadier Rose added. “It's not the perfect solution, as use of aircraft would be restricted by weather conditions and ability to operate at night.”
“But, it would be better than the situation in which we find ourselves at the moment.” Sykes declared.

The general thought for a moment.

“I take it you have a list of suitable aircraft we could requisition?”

Both Moore and Rose nodded.

“We do, Sir.” Moore confirmed. “We complied a list of suitable aircraft during the mobilisation period. A little easier these days, given that registrations are online.”
“Well, lets get started on using the Airtrainers.” Sykes ordered. “I'll speak to CDF about requisitioning civilian aircraft. May need an Order in Council from the Governor General if the emergency legislation doesn't cover it.”

The general took a sip of coffee before continuing the meeting.

“Now, what's next on the agenda?”

0356 hours GMT. LÉ Orla, the Celtic Sea.
While the hunt for B-396 had continued on for a few more hours, eventually concluding when he had been hit by two Stingray torpedoes dropped by a Merlin HM.1, the convoy had continued on. However, the hunt had tied up HMS Tamar and MN Commandant Bouan, leaving them some distance away from the convoy they were supposed to be protecting. Both ships were hastening back to the convoy at best speed, but were still a few hours from rejoining. As far as Lt. Commander Sherry was concerned, their return could not come soon enough.

*

It had taken a little bit of time for the signal that Sherry had sent to COMSOGRP and copied to COMWA(S) to reach Rear Admiral Forbes at Mount Wise. The reply from COMSOGRP to LÉ Orla had reached Forbes a few moments later:

'No suspected hostile submarines in range of your convoy Tamar and Commandant Bouan will rejoin once suspected sub prosecuted.'

“Bloody fool.” He muttered. “The convoy is more important than one damned Tango.” He turned to his Chief of Staff. “What escorts do that convoy still have?”
“Ah, let me check, Sir.” The captain replied.

He checked a document before replying.

“Senior escort is Orla, formerly HMS Swift, the other is Aisling, a vessel of the Emer Class.” He said, struggling over the correct pronunciation of the Irish names. “Neither of them has any ASW capabilities, though Orla does have a good comms fit.”
“Does that Nimrod that was hunting the Tango still have fuel?”
“Yes, Sir. It has enough to remain on station for a good few hours yet.”
“Well, order it to cover that convoy.” Forbes ordered. “Meanwhile, we need to find at least one ASW capable escort that can join the convoy quicker than Tamar and Commandant Bouan.”
“HMS Andromeda and Campbeltown are headed out from Portsmouth to RV with an incoming convoy, Sir. They're due to relieve a couple of escorts that need to break off to replenish, but could be within the convoy within an hour.”

Forbes considered the problem. He knew that there was in fact an Akula Class SSN in the Western Approaches, having come close to being a victim of its missiles. It had vanished, but could conceivably be within range of the convoy.

“Detach Andromeda. Signal COMSOGRP, copied to the captain of Orla. Let them know about the Akula and that we are sending Andromeda.”

*

The Nimrod of No.42 Squadron made a low pass over the convoy, waggling its wings, before climbing away to start a hunt for any possible submarines. Lt. Commander Sherry had never been more glad to see an aircraft in his life and no longer felt so exposed.

*

Flight Lieutenant Stuart ‘Steve’ Punt took once last look at the convoy before he turned his Nimrod back on course. He had to lay a pattern of sonobuoys ahead of the convoy as part of efforts to sanitise the area for submarines.

*

Twenty minutes later, while the Nimrod was still laying its pattern of sonobuoys, one of the ships of the convoy was rocked by an explosion. The vessel was a Ro-Ro ferry that usually plied the route between Rosslare and Cherbourg. She was loaded with vehicles intended for Irish Army units in West Germany and Austria. The explosion had broken her back and water rushed into her car deck. As she heeled over, vehicles slid from one side of the car deck to the other, further unbalancing the ferry.

“Christ all mighty.” Lt. Commander Sherry muttered, as he watched the ship roll completely over onto her side. “Alert SAR!” He ordered.
“We're not stopping to help them, Sir?” The Officer Of the Watch wondered.
“If we do, we could end up joining them.”

Sherry had no way of knowing if the ferry had struck a mine, or whether it had been torpedoed. Best he could do was to order Orla and Aisling to position themselves so that they were between any threat and the remaining merchant vessels. Flight Lieutenant Punt's Nimrod had also abandoned its initial sonobuoy pattern and was now hunting off to port of the convoy, where any hostile submarine would probably be.
The Nimrod had evidently detected something, as it made several low passes, using its MAD boom to confirm the detection. On the the final pass it had its weapons bay door open and released a Sting Ray torpedo. Sherry and the rest of the bridge crew watched in fascination as the torpedo descended on its parachute before hitting the waves and disappearing.

“Well, I guess we'll know in a few minutes...” Sherry began to say.

He stopped as the bow of a submarine appeared, breaking the surface. A second Tango Class SSK, B-474 had been stalking the convoy, and had been responsible for sinking the ferry. He had lost depth control while trying to evade the Sting Ray.

“Hostile submarine on the surface!” Sherry snapped. “Engage with the 76!”

Orla's 76mm cannon swung rapidly, opening fire as soon as it bore on the target. Aisling was also charging towards the submarine, trying to get within range of her Bofors L70. Orla only got off half a dozen rounds before B-474 disappeared again, Aisling only managing three 40mm rounds. A few moments after disappearing, there was a tremendous explosion underwater.

“I guess the torpedo caught up with her after all.” Sherry commented.

0426 hours GMT. Longyearbyen, Spitsbergen, Svalbard.
Captain Tony DiMarco had begun to wonder just what he and his unit, Company B, 1-105th Infantry Regiment (Light), New York Army National Guard, was doing in the world's most northerly settlement. They had arrived on 9th May due to reports of Spetsnaz being present at the Soviet owned settlement of Barentsburg and possibly also at the abandoned settlement of Pyramiden. The Norwegian detachment from Jegerkommando 3/HJK along with his men had mounted patrols via snowmobile and had even flown over Barentsburg, Pyramiden and the Polish research centre at Hornsund. But, nothing out of the ordinary. The civilian pilots of the the two old Twin Hueys had not been too keen to get close to the Soviet settlements, so it was quite possible that something might have been missed. The rest of the time, DiMarco's men had spent constructing defences around Longyearbyen and carried out local patrols. However, everyone was getting a bit bored and the captain was worried that some of his soldiers might do something stupid to relive the boredom.

The request for helicopters from 10th Mountain Division had been turned down, on the basis that none could be spared. At least that was about to change, with the arrival of the Norwegian Coast Guard vessels NoCGV Svalbard (W303) and NoCGV Nordkapp (W320). Both vessels carried a Lynx Mk.86 helicopters, which would be used to assist the garrison in searching for any suspicious activity. Both vessels were in their full war-fit, with Svalbard adding a Simbad SAM and additional Heavy Machine Guns to her weapons and Nordkapp adding Penguin SSM, Simbad SAM, torpedoes and 20mm cannon. [1]
The two coast guard vessels could not stay too long. They were needed elsewhere and the waters around Svalbard were considered dangerous for relatively lightly armed vessels.

*

“Morning, Tony.” Major Daniel Hansen, the Norwegian officer who was in overall command of the joint Norwegian-US force, said in greeting. “It's a good day for it, don't you think?”
“As good a day as any, Major.” DiMarco replied. “I'm just glad we've finally gotten something to do.”

Now that the two Norwegian Coast Guard vessels had arrived, an operation to clear Barentsburg was being mounted. Two reinforced platoons of National Guardsmen would board the ships, while the Lynx would drop off Jegerkommando outside the settlement. A reserve would be held back at Longyearbyen, ready to fly in aboard the two Bell 212 helicopters. Once Barentsburg had been secured, operations to clear Pyramiden and Hornsund would be made.

Hansen smiled at DiMarco's reply.

“I'm sure we'll give your boys plenty...”

The sound of a large jet aircraft flying overhead interrupted the major. Both men looked upwards, searching out the source of the noise.

“Oh, crap.” DiMarco muttered.
“Indeed.” Hansen agreed. “A single 'Backfire', which means it must be an MR, or MP variant. Probably the latter.”

The Tu-22MP was a photoreconnaissance variant of the Tu-22M4. It made a second pass over Longyearbyen before disappearing off to the south-east.

“I'll let the Mainland know we've been overflown.” Hansen declared. “But, we need to get on with the mission as quickly as we can before we have guests.”
“Agreed, Major.” DiMarco replied. “I'll hurry my boys along.”

While the Northern Fleet's 'Backfire' force was still understrength, and limited in capabilities while the issues with missiles were sorted out, it could still mount an a strong attack against Svalbard. Even if it meant dropping 'iron bombs'. The two coast guard vessels could only provide limited air defence against any air attack, their Simbad SAM being a naval variant of the twin-launcher Mistral MANPADS. At least hitting the ships within the fjords of Svalbard would not be easy.

With added urgency, the National Guardsmen boarded both Coast Guard vessels, loading what equipment they would need. Once both ships had sailed they launched their Lynx helicopters, which were carrying eight Jegerkommando each. Once the helicopters had dropped off the Jegerkommando, they would return to pick up similar loads of National Guardsmen. The Norwegian and US troops would secure Barentsburg Heliport, to make sure that its Mi-8 'Hip' helicopters could not pose any threat to Svalbard and Nordkapp. After the heliport was secured, the fjord and conduct a demonstration shoot with their 57mm guns against the other side of the fjord. The message that the guns could be turned against the settlement if necessary hopefully being very clear. The Lynx would then be used again to land troops to secure Barentsburg Port before the cutters came alongside.

Half an hour earlier than planned, the two coast guard vessels set sail from Longyearbyen, heading the short distance to Barentsburg. Once clear of the port both Lynx were launched, flying ahead of the ships. They landed at Barentsburg Heliport, the Jegerkommando, securing it rapidly, taking a handful of Soviet technicians prisoner. Since the first part of the operation had gone so well, the two Lynx were sent to scout Barentsburg itself, instead of picking up a second load of troops. What they found would be used in deciding whether to follow the original plan, or whether it could be accelerated.

0520 hours GMT. H.Q North-Western Front, Petrozadvosk, RSFSR.
“Send him in!” General Mikhail Ignatiev, the Commander of the Northwest TVD bellowed.

The officer who was Ignatiev's appointment entered the room. His uniform was smart, but showed use, apart from the rank insignia on his shoulders, which were shiny, reflecting recent promotion.

“General-Polkovnik Maxim Vasiliev reporting as ordered, Comrade General.”
“Sit down, Comrade.” Ignatiev said. “You are not on trial, have some tea.”

The Commander of the Northwest TVD got to his feet and poured a cup of hot, sweet tea from a samovar on a table in the corner of his office. He handed the cup to his guest.

“What do you know of the situation in Norway?” Ignatiev asked, once he had sat down.
“That we have undertaken a temporary strategic withdrawal to lure NATO forces into a trap. We will soon counter-attack and destroy them.”

Ignatiev laughed.

“Do not worry, Comrade. This office is not bugged. You can tell the truth.”

Vasiliev took a deep breath before replying.

“From what I have heard, Comrade General, it has been a complete disaster. Our amphibious flanking manoeuvrer was destroyed. NATO's own amphibious counter-attack was highly successful and most of the Sixth Army was destroyed. We only hold Norwegian territory east of the Tana River. Our position is complicated by the fact that Finland and Sweden are now in NATO.”
“That is quite true. I thank you for your honesty.”

Ignatiev got to his feet again. He pulled down a map that was rolled up on one wall.The map showed northern Norway, part of Sweden, Finland and a bit of the Kola Peninsula. A more detailed inset map showed the area around the Tana River back to the Soviet border. Both maps had unit symbols on them that showed deployments of NATO and Soviet forces. Ignative picked up a wooden pointed and tapped on the smaller inset map.

“Until recently we believed that NATO marine forces formed the main part of the defenders forward of Lakselv. Of course, when they appeared on Zealand, we knew that was no longer the case. The main NATO defensive position in Northern Norway is still down here.” He said, stabbing at the larger map. “The Lyngen Position. It is an excellent bit of defensive terrain that the Norwegians have spent over half a century improving. That we could not break through it once our amphibious force was destroyed should not have been a surprise to those who planned the invasion. We can thank planners at STAVKA for that. We at the Northwestern TVD were merely actors following a script by writers who did not accept any improvisation.” He added bitterly.

Vasiliev was a little shocked. It was just not done for a senior Soviet officer, even a full general to openly criticise STAVKA.

“Now, the reason I requested you be sent here, is that I need a good general to lead a reconstituted Sixth Army. I have heard good things about your work in the Far East Military District. I believe you were responsible for training troops for possible operations in Alaska and Canada?”

Vasiliev nodded.

“Yes, Comrade General. There are some similarities to operating in the Far East Military District, Canada and Alaska to Scandinavia. Although, looking at those maps, you have an abundance of roads compared to what I have been used to!”

Ignatiev chuckled.

“Don't be fooled by those maps, Comrade. Those roads are not exactly multi-lane highways! But, at least many of them will support armoured vehicles. What I need you to do, is to plan for a new attack into Norway, in conjunction with other operations carried out by 18th Army and 26th Army Corps. You will be happy to know that we have re-established most of the formations of Sixth Army using a mixture of troops from other formations, reservists, new conscripts and equipment taken from local storage depots. Most, but not all of your equipment is up to date. A few formations have lost their 'Guard' honorifics on being reconstituted. However, your staff are mainly experienced men, with recent combat time.”
“What am I working with, Comrade General?” Vasiliev asked.

Ignatiev handed over a document showing the outline order of battle:

6th Army:
1179th Independent Air Assault Battalion
45th Motor Rifle Division
54th Motor Rifle Division (Arctic)
71st Motor Rifle Division (Arctic)
111th Motor Rifle Division (Arctic)
131st Motor Rifle Division (Arctic)

“All fully up to strength, Comrade General?” Vasiliev asked.
“All units are between 95% and 100% of authorised strength in terms of both personnel and equipment.”

Vasiliev took a look at the maps again.

“I don't have a lot of options available when planning an attack. Would I be right to assume that 18th Army are conducting operations in Finland?” He paused while Ignatiev nodded. “And 26th Army Corps is a follow-on force for whichever army is most successful?”

Again the Commander of the Northwestern TVD nodded.

“At the moment it is the reserve for 18th Army, which is fighting quite a fierce battle with the Finns and Swedes. The Finns are proving every bit as hard fighters as their grandfathers, and the Swedes are not the soft decadents were were told they are. However, we will be going on the offensive again once your army is fully re-established. Your main headquarters has been established at Pechenga, but, I will leave it up to you as to where you set-up your forward H.Q.”

The new commander of the Sixth Army had already identified somewhere.

“Hesseng looks like a suitable location. It's close to Kirkenes Airport and is close enough to our front-line without being too close.”
“The Norwegians did demolish pretty much everything of value in Finnmark, but we have been rebuilding both Kirkenes and Hesseng. How soon can you leave?”
“I will leave for Pechenga immediately, Comrade General. The only other thing I need to know is when you need me to begin operations.”

General Ignatiev smiled. He wondered why his other subordinates were not as energetic as General-Polkovnik Vasiliev.

“Moscow would like you to have started yesterday, however, I can give you seventy-two hours. That will need to be enough.”
“I will not waste a minute of them, Comrade General. If you will excuse me, I will leave for Pechenga now.”
“Good luck, Maxim Ivanovich.”

In truth, General Ignatiev did not expect Vasiliev to make much progress. Even after the departure of the American, British and Dutch Marines, NATO forces in Finnmark and Troms were very strong. Strong Swedish and Finnish forces in northern Lapland also complicated matters. Although, even a limited advance would be of use. It would tie down NATO troops and, most importantly, satisfy Moscow.

***

[1] The peacetime armament of Svalbard was as follows:
1x Bofors 57mm L/70
1x 12.7mm HMG

Nordkapp had:
1x Bofors 57mm L/70
4x 12.7mm HMG
Depth charges

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[jemhouston]

Norwegian Prime Minister and King are correct, the people need to seem them out and about.


How often does POTUS leave the White House?

[Lordroel]

2026 is a good year for fans of TLW, keep up the work.

[Eaglenine2]

Nice update
So the Company B, 1-105th Infantry Regiment is the only American unit in Svalbard?

[Matt Wiser]

New chapter! BZ as usual, and always glad to be of service. And thus to business:

The Norwegians have problems with those evacuated from the war zone (which is to be expected), along with the King and PM wanting to be seen in public. Speaking from personal experience on being evacuated, I can relate as I was evacuated from the Creek Fire in 2020 for ten days-and I know people who were gone from home for up to two months. It can be frustrating. As for the King and PM, the need to be seen by the public does need to be taken into account, even with the Spetsnatz threat to VIPS.

NKs are being their usual selves. And they are following the NVN playbook, for the latter didn't refer to those who checked into the Hanoi Hilton after arriving in Hanoi as POWs until after the Paris Cease-Fire.

The Soviet submarine threat has been reduced. They are still a danger, and the skippers who are left are the ones who proved themselves to be pretty dangerous and are skilled tacticians. Unlike the USN and the Kreigsmarine, skippers who didn't measure up after returning from a patrol won't be sent to a shore assignment.... A 9-mm headache cure will likely follow. The garbage scows are likely already fully crewed....

Some very bored NY Guardsmen finally have something to do. And if Ivan's taking photos, he likely has plans for the island.

Not surprised the Soviets have plans to resume the offensive in Norway. And ground already soaked in blood will even be more so.

Good work again, and get with 397!

[Lordroel]

Twenty minutes later, while the Nimrod was still laying its pattern of sonobuoys, one of the ships of the convoy was rocked by an explosion. The vessel was a Ro-Ro ferry that usually plied the route between Rosslare and Cherbourg. She was loaded with vehicles intended for Irish Army units in West Germany and Austria. The explosion had broken her back and water rushed into her car deck. As she heeled over, vehicles slid from one side of the car deck to the other, further unbalancing the ferry.

That will be a huge loss for the Irish army who if i recall already do not have much left to operate.

[Bernard Woolley]

Norwegian Prime Minister and King are correct, the people need to seem them out and about.

Agreed.

How often does POTUS leave the White House?

Less than he would like, but more than the Secret Service would prefer. The USSS would be happier if POTUS was at Raven Rock, or Mount Weather. Or, at least in the PEOC.

2026 is a good year for fans of TLW, keep up the work.

Thank you, appreciate that.

That will be a huge loss for the Irish army who if i recall already do not have much left to operate.

They were not exactly flush pre-war. In this case, it was a load of soft-skin vehicles. Which will be easier to replace than armoured vehicles.

Nice update
So the Company B, 1-105th Infantry Regiment is the only American unit in Svalbard?

Thank you, and yes, they are.

New chapter! BZ as usual, and always glad to be of service.

Thanks you, and always appreciate your help.

<snip> It can be frustrating.

I'd hate to be out of my home for any length of time, so I do sympathise. Sadly, the people of Finnmark don't have homes to go back to at the moment.

As for the King and PM, the need to be seen by the public does need to be taken into account, even with the Spetsnatz threat to VIPS.

The plan for protecting VVIPs in many NATO countries was one of the few plans not updated. It was based on the idea that a short conventional war would go nuclear within days. Hence, sending them to bunkers. I think even the Soviets would not be stupid enough to kill a sitting Monarch.

The Soviet submarine threat has been reduced. They are still a danger, and the skippers who are left are the ones who proved themselves to be pretty dangerous and are skilled tacticians.

You can say that again! Of the surviving Soviet sub force, a lot of them had expended their weapons load and have had to head home. The more patient skippers have waited for lucrative targets & the hope that NATO warships will get careless.

Some very bored NY Guardsmen finally have something to do. And if Ivan's taking photos, he likely has plans for the island.

As the saying goes, the Devil Makes Work for Idle Hands. As for the other...

Not surprised the Soviets have plans to resume the offensive in Norway. And ground already soaked in blood will even be more so.

Moscow was never going to be satisfied with the Northwetern TVD taking a defensive stance.

Good work again, and get with 397!

Thanks, and will do!

[jemhouston]

I would not put past Moscow to kill a sitting Monarch either by design or accident.

[Jotun]

I would not put past Moscow to kill a sitting Monarch either by design or accident.

Pope John Paul II. (Pillen-Paule) is for all intents and purposes an elected monarch and the KGB and Bulgarian secret service went after him.

So yes, I would not put it past them.

[Bernard Woolley]

Fair enough.

[James1978]

Good chapter!

It's interesting to me that we've seen a lot more Soviet Tangos than we have Kilos.

Keep up the good work!

[jemhouston]

I would not put past Moscow to kill a sitting Monarch either by design or accident.

Pope John Paul II. (Pillen-Paule) is for all intents and purposes an elected monarch and the KGB and Bulgarian secret service went after him.

So yes, I would not put it past them.

That one slipped my mind.