The Shield: a novel

by Nachman Kataczinsky PhD

  “Don’t worry too much about the loss of lend-lease assistance. We want the war in Europe to go well, and will assist you against the Germans. I hope that by the end of next week you will be in much better spirits.”

  Chapter 27

  Wolf Frumin was interested in the lecture, or, more precisely, in the lecturer. The Second Lieutenant was maybe twenty years old, and to Wolf she looked beautiful. Maybe not as beautiful as Sheina but still pleasant to look at. He had trouble concentrating on what she was saying. She was pointing with a laser at details on an aerial photograph being projected on the wall:

  “Here you can see very clearly the devastation a well-organized attack by a modern air force can cause a ground force, especially one without any air cover.

  “But look at this slide,” she said as a new slide popped up. “This is the same area two days later. You see the British involved in a shootout with a German unit. Compare this to the previous slide. The Germans have dug in and reinforced their position. There is a very important lesson here: it is impossible to defeat an enemy from the air. The air force may be of tremendous importance, but without infantry and armor there is no victory.

  “It will be you…”

  Wolf’s attention wandered. This was his last day before graduating from the Armor School. He went from a somewhat rebellious eighteen year old with a good education, at least for 1941 Belarus, to a disciplined, though still somewhat argumentative, tank commander – all in six months of intensive training.

  It wasn’t easy. The first serious battle was with his parents. They refused to sign the necessary forms to allow him to serve in a combat unit. He wasn’t a single child but his only sister was lost somewhere in Russia, maybe dead. As far as Israel was concerned Wolf had no siblings and so needed his parents’ permission to serve in a combat unit.

  Wolf was “rescued” by a neighbor. He was also 18 and planned on enlisting with Wolf. When Wolf told him about his problem, the friend had a suggestion. “Take your parents to the family event the Army is having two weeks before we are due to enlist. They’ll show you and your parents what options you have, the equipment you will operate and explain about the career you may expect.”

  At the event both of Wolf’s parents were impressed by the tanks. They saw Wolf’s enthusiasm, the large numbers of young people serving in combat units, and were introduced to other parents in the same predicament. They also realized that their son would not be a clerk. He was stubborn and if denied service in a combat unit would ask to be assigned to an armor engineering depot. They asked for clarifications and a young officer explained that Wolf’s request would likely be honored, assuming he didn’t fail his training. Serving at a depot sounded safe, but Wolf’s father had his doubts. He asked for an explanation and was told that the depot wasn’t really a depot. It was a mobile engineering unit servicing and repairing armored vehicles in the field. Not at the front line but certainly not very far behind. After this explanation Nachman Frumin figured that tanks looked relatively safe. It was all in G-d’s hands anyway. They signed the consent papers.

  ***

  Ze’ev, Linda and Sheina Hirshson picked up the Frumins at eight in the morning. Ze’ev was glad that his Toyota had three rows of seats. Nachman’s brothers and their wives also wanted to come. They didn’t have space in the car for all the cousins. They had to take a bus to the graduation ceremony held at the Latrun Armor Corps facility, next to the Jerusalem road.

  The speeches took at least two hours, after which the graduates of the latest Armor School course were called one by one to the podium to have their new specialist pins and unit insignia attached.

  In the early afternoon, after the ceremony was finished, Wolf found his family. Tzila was crying and Nachman looked very proud of his son. Sheina was just smiling, which made Wolf lose a bit of his proud stance and smile back.

  The new corporal looked good in his sharply-pressed uniform and black beret. Having fought in the First World War Nachman hoped that his son would never see action, but he was also reassured that if he did have to fight, it would be side by side with other Jews for a good cause.

  Wolf had the whole week off and returned home with his parents. He planned on visiting with Sheina in Beer Sheba. She would be the first to know of his plan to apply for officers’ school as soon as regulations allowed. He also had plans to apply to college and wanted her opinion on all these complicated designs for his future.

  ***

  Ze’ev and Linda came home late in the evening after the Frumins’ party for Wolf. On the way home Ze’ev was thoughtful.

  “What’s bothering you?” Linda asked after a long while of silence.

  “Nothing really.”

  “Yeah, sure. I know you. What is it?”

  “I don’t know whether I can tell you. We still do a lot of work on the Merkava tank project and I get to know some classified stuff.”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Well, it’s classified.”

  “And since when did that stop you from telling your wife?”

  “Okay. You don’t tell anybody though.”

  Linda nodded, “Did I ever?”

  Ze’ev hesitated. “I think that the government is preparing for a big ground battle. I’m not sure where, but from what I hear it’s going to be overseas.”

  “Ephraim is there.” Linda sounded unhappy.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about him. Generals don’t usually fight on the front lines. I’m more worried about Wolf. He was very proud to be assigned to the 7th Armor Brigade. You know their combat traditions.”

  Linda looked uncertain.

  “This is the brigade that did most of the bloody work at the Chinese Farm during the Yom Kippur war. My friend Dan was a platoon commander there – didn’t survive the battle.”

  “Well, they’re not going into such a bloody experience any time soon.” Linda responded.

  “I’m not so sure. The 7th is going to be shipped to Italy in a couple of weeks and not by itself either. Something is brewing there. Makes sense after the job we have done on the Germans in North Africa.”

  ***

  The next day Ze’ev was in his Tel-Aviv office. He called Consolidated Research and Development V.P. Omer Toledano.

  “I have been to my uncle’s graduation ceremony. He is now a tank commander in the 7th.” Ze’ev smiled. “It still sounds strange. Anyway, the young man is almost 19 and is going to command the latest model Merkava, which made me think.

  “These tanks are powered by a turbine. Why not use similar technology to power your electric car?”

  Omer was smiling. “I’m glad you mentioned it. As it happens we came up with a similar idea. Let me give you an orderly update, if you have the time of course.”

  “Go ahead, but be brief,” Ze’ev chuckled. “I have to leave in about three hours.”

  “I’ll be as concise as possible.” Omer got himself a cup of coffee, talking as he did. “First, we hired a number of engineers and a scientist. All newcomers. It’s really amazing what these people know. We have several engineers that used to work for Opel, a couple that worked for Daimler and three guys that worked for Citroen. Obviously as soon as the Nazis took control they were dismissed.

  “Did you know that both Citroen and Daimler are currently working on turbines? Only as compressors for their regular engines, but these guys have real experience.

  “Anyway, we are working on a hybrid of sorts. Use the turbine directly on highways and whenever the slight acceleration lag is not important, and use it to charge a battery in city driving.”

  “Ah, sounds like a good idea. Keep me up to date on how it’s going.” Ze’ev took a sip of his coffee. “What was it you said about a scientist?”

  “Well, we started funding Arye Kidron’s research into this Zero Point Energy thing. I thought that it might be a good idea to have a physicist on staff who knows something about quantum mechanics, so I looked for one. None of the ‘modern’ ones would consider our offer, but
I found a Nobel laureate that would.”

  “A Nobel laureate? Who are you talking about?”

  “Chief, did you hear of Lisa Meisner? She was a department head at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute. In 1934 her co-researcher received the Nobel Prize in physics for research in radioactivity and its implications on quantum mechanics. She was refused the prize, probably because of being a woman. She did stuff that’s really cool that I really don’t understand.

  “She worked at the Institute until 1938 – being an Austrian protected her from the Nazis, even though all the other Jews were fired or deported, including her colleague Leo Shiller of notable fame. In 1938, after the Anshluss, being Austrian made no difference so she was fired and deported.

  “She is our liaison to the Technion ZPE project. Arye admits that she is helping him a lot.”

  Ze’ev smiled: “So should we expect a magical energy source next month?”

  Omer was serious. “I honestly don’t know. They are both very optimistic, but Arye always is and I think that Lisa caught the bug from him. I seriously doubt that we’ll have a ZPE power source next month. In the meantime they are talking about channeling energy from another universe. This, they claim, is much simpler than a ZPE. It’s all Greek to me, but I am doing my best. Hopefully I’ll be able to give you a more meaningful report in a couple of weeks.”

  ***

  Amos Nir checked his schedule. The Cabinet meeting would begin in an hour. It left him just enough time for his discussion with the Defense Minister and the Chief of General Staff.

  “Nitzan, Gad,” the Prime Minister settled in his chair, “we need to discuss several things before the Cabinet meeting. I just want to gain a better understanding of the issues.

  “First I need an update on the North African situation.”

  The Defense Minister smiled. “The Germans are indeed in a ‘situation’. We are giving the Brits all the information they need to intercept transports going to Rommel. The guy is getting no reinforcements, no fuel and no food.

  “Left to their own devices the Royal Navy and Air Force would have missed about 40% or more of the tonnage. They do intercept German communications and decode them with Ultra. Their problem is time: sometimes low priority messages take up to a week to decipher. By then the ship may already be unloading in North Africa. The other difficulty is weather. Even if they know when and from where a ship is leaving it may be impossible for their navy or air force to spot it if the weather doesn’t cooperate. The Mediterranean can be treacherous in January and that helps the Germans.

  “We have no problems pinpointing the ships for them. The result: zero supplies for Rommel.”

  ”By now he should be starving and out of ammunition,” Amos remarked, “so why aren’t the Brits on the Tunisian border yet?”

  “I have to admit that we all underestimated the German Army,” Said Gad Yaari. “They keep fighting against unreasonable odds. The soldiers are well trained and well led. I can’t see them surrendering without an explicit order to do so or an extreme situation, like Stalingrad. I also can’t see Rommel giving such an order without Hitler’s approval.

  “The British are advancing at a good pace but it’s very far from a German rout. There are no deserters and they are fighting hard.”

  “You have an estimate of when it will end?”

  Yaari looked at Liebler. Obviously the Chief of General Staff and the Defense Minister were not in agreement.

  “I think that the Germans will have no choice but surrender way before the Brits chase them to the Tunisian border. By the way, the Italians have no problems abandoning their allies and giving up.” The Defense Minister looked at the Chief of general Staff. “Gad thinks otherwise. If I’m right we can expect the Afrika Corps to surrender in less than a month.”

  “Like Nitzan said, I don’t agree. A month is way too optimistic. In my opinion the Germans will go on fighting as long as they have ammo. It will take at least three or four months. Maybe longer.

  “If Operation Victor starts before they surrender it will take even longer. The plans the British presented to us call for elements of the Eight Army to be transferred to Italy. This will slow the progress in North Africa.”

  Nitzan Liebler was shaking his head in disagreement.

  Amos asked his next question. “Do we have a coherent operational plan for Victor?”

  Liebler replied, “Yes, but we’re reworking it thoroughly. I agree with Gad that the Germans demonstrated exceptional fighting abilities. It’s one thing to read about it in history books and an entirely different experience seeing their performance live, so to speak.

  “Assuming that our soldiers are as good as the Germans, which I think they are, we decided that our modern weapons give us a force multiplier of ten. One of our divisions is worth ten of the German’s. This is a bit crude but enough for a general idea. Our computer modeling is much more accurate. For example, we have a much higher advantage in the air and at night.

  “We do have a serious weakness, or rather two. The first one is our low tolerance for casualties. If our casualties are a tenth of the German’s we’ll be in trouble. The other weakness is inherent in the structure of our forces. The IDF is an armed force that really sees offense as the best defense. If we have to defend fixed positions, like the original British plan required, we will have a high attrition rate. This is unacceptable.”

  Gad Yaari took over: “We are now preparing several versions of Operation Victor. Which one will actually be implemented depends on who the players are.

  “In any case we both agree that the forces originally designated for this operation are inadequate. They would do to defend the Brindisi base but have to be at least tripled for this operation to be an unqualified success. Overwhelming force will also reduce our casualties.”

  Amos nodded: “Okay. That settles some of the issues. I have a more basic question: how long can we sustain a major effort like this?”

  “It depends,” answered Nitzan and Gad together.

  Amos smiled, “It always does. What does this depend on?”

  “We’re not quite sure what the Germans will throw at us and how intense the fighting will be.” Nitzan responded. “We can make assumptions. They will likely attack from two directions. One force will attack from France the other from Austria…”

  The discussion went on for a while, until the start of the Cabinet meeting.

  Israel was clearly preparing for the largest and longest war in its history. A war against a mortal, uncompromising enemy. An enemy that proved in the past its relentless hatred and did it’s very best to exterminate the Jewish people.

  There were no doubts in the hearts of the leadership that this struggle has to be joined. The people supported this decision, though, like always in a democracy, there were a number of opposing opinions.

  End of Book 1