B018R79OOK EBOK

by Unknown

  The men were scampering around the large room, disconnecting equipment and sliding it all into designated spaces in the crates for shipping. Despite the fact these men and women had just completed boot camp, they responded with a sense of urgency that bode well for what was about to come. One of the men came up to Ricks.

  “What do you need Private Kursov?” asked Ricks.

  “Do we need to pack up all the training manuals? It’s going to take up a lot of room and if we’re going right to work, there might not be much need for them,” Petyr said.

  “I agree. Just throw the things in an empty crate. We’ll let these guys here take care of them,” said Ricks. Kursov was one of the better young Polish soldiers of the bunch. He had a quick mind and seemed to grasp what was needed long before the others. He’d go far. “Just make sure the maintenance manuals go along. I’d hate to try to fix one of these things without them,” he said.

  Kursov nodded and rushed away to finish packing the equipment. He couldn’t believe they were sending him back home. It might mean seeing more of Freda.

  It didn’t take long before all the equipment was crated up and placed in a container. The people grabbed their packs and sprinted out to waiting buses. The trip was going to take a few hours, but the army wanted them there as soon as possible. They had no idea what had happened or why the rush, but they were on their way to war.

  The train was being filled rapidly. A crane was placing the containers onto their special cars and there was a long line of passenger cars going along as well. Periodically, there was a car with an antiaircraft gun or portable missile system onboard. You could tell by all the bustle that people were in a hurry.

  Colonel Sanders walked up to Ricks, who was supervising the onload. “Ricks, there’s been a change of plan. Now we’re headed to the Czech Republic. You can let the guys know when we get underway, but no one gets off the train between here and some place called Javornik. They’re setting us up in some school just two and a half miles from the border. We have to be there and set up by 0300 tomorrow morning. Get your people and equipment on the train ASAP and hang on. This thing is going to fly over there. We have over 250 miles to go and it’s nonstop. Any questions?” Sanders asked.

  Ricks shook his head. “We’ll have everything onboard in about fifteen minutes. Looks like you and I are going to the front of the front this time,” he said.

  Sanders smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  As promised, the men and equipment were loaded aboard with time to spare. There was an additional delay when parts of a German infantry unit were loaded aboard as well. After an additional thirty minutes, the train began picking up speed along the tracks. True to his word, the thing was going much faster than Ricks had expected.

  Surprisingly, the train was quiet. Most of the men and women were simply sitting in their seats and wondering what was going to happen to them. After letting them know there had been a change in destination, Ricks began making his way to his seat in the front of the coach. He stopped for a moment beside Private Kursov. There was something about this young man. He could be intense when doing his job, but eager to help out and very capable in everything Ricks had thrown at him so far. He grinned down at the man. “Sorry about the change. Looks like we won’t be going to your home this time out,” he said quietly.

  Petyr shrugged his shoulders. “My sergeant told me a long time ago to never make plans. I’ll get home when this is over,” he said.

  Ricks sat down in the empty seat beside him. “Yea, but it would have been nice to see the family and that girl of yours. I remember my first time out. There were times I had wished I could just run away and get back to my family. You live in Krakow long?”

  “All my life. My father and mother are both Russian, but I’m from Poland. We’ve lived in the same place this whole time,” he said with a smile. Thinking of home felt good.

  Ricks chuckled. “Most Americans move around a lot. It’s not surprising to have someone who has lived two or three places by your age.”

  “Did you do that?”

  Ricks shook his head. “No, I was a farm boy. We lived on the farm all my life. But some of my friends in school moved around. Many of them were military brats.”

  Petyr got a questioning look. “Brats?”

  Ricks laughed. “It’s a term a lot of military use for children of military families. It’s not meant as something bad, just a pet name,” he said.

  “I still have trouble with some English. I understand,” said Petyr. “Do you have any brats?”

  Ricks chuckled again. “Yep. I have two little twin brats with one more on the way. I met my wife during the Korean War and things just happen that way,” he grinned.

  “I hope to marry my girl when I get back. Then maybe we can have some brats of our own,” Petyr said. He changed his tone. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Some of the guys told me you were one of the highest decorated men in the American Army. They also told me you don’t have any legs. Is this so?” Petyr asked.

  Ricks could tell by his look that he was a little afraid of the response. He reached down and pulled up his pants leg revealing the titanium prosthetic coming out of his boot. “I lost both of them toward the end of the war. As you can see, it didn’t stop me from doing my job.”

  Petyr’s eyes widened. He had no idea. A look of admiration spread across his face. “I always thought something like that would send a person home,” he said.

  “Most of the time it does,” said Ricks. “In my case, they made an exception. Of course that doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass if you screw up,” he said with a grin. He was rewarded with a knowing smile.

  “I value my life, Master Sergeant,” Petyr said.

  “Good. And as far as the other goes, don’t worry about my decorations. Just do your job and you will be getting some of your own. It never works to think about what you have to do to get them. Just do your job as best you can and they will come,” Ricks said.

  Petyr nodded as Ricks began to get up. Ricks turned back to him. “I’ll be counting on you Petyr,” he said softly.

  Petyr’s face brightened. He called him by his first name. He looked up. “I won’t let you down,” he said.

  Ricks winked and began making his way to the front of the car.

  One of Petyr’s friends turned around in his seat. “One of the people looked him up on the internet. He was awarded the American Medal of Honor. It’s the highest award a guy can get!” he said.

  The news didn’t surprise Petyr. Being around Ricks made him feel secure. There was something about him that not only got your attention, but commanded respect. He sat back and thought for a moment and decided that he would follow Master Sergeant Ricks wherever he wanted to go.

  Berlin

  The auditorium was surrounded by security. Fighter aircraft were flying overhead and tanks had perimeters set up several hundred yards from the building. The only way to get in was if you had a special card and had a name on the list. Yet, there were only about twenty five men and women in the auditorium to hear the plans for the operation. The front row was the most telling. Seated were the Chancellor of Germany, Presidents of France and Italy, Prime Ministers of Belgium, Spain, Luxemburg, Poland and finally the United Kingdom. Seated with his Prime Minister was the King of England. Behind them were the military leaders of these countries and a few others.

  Hammond had already greeted everyone, and now it was time to begin. He went to the podium at the head of the auditorium and nodded to one of his staff members. Images began coming up on the screens behind him.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to begin. My name is Roger Hammond and I have been tasked with leading the Allied effort to bring victory against the Russian forces. It has been two months since this war began and up until this time, the Allied nations have held back on their front line units as we prepare to strike back at the Russians with a major effort. This effort is calle
d Operation Arctic Wind. I will now ask my military commanders to come up and explain their part in Arctic Wind so that hopefully you will get a full picture of how massive this operation is. We will begin in the European sector with General Dortmund,” he said.

  General Dortmund rose and began his portion, followed by General Ames for the air forces. Sir Richard Thomas briefed on the Naval Forces, then handed the podium to Admiral Hustvedt.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, my part of this is an amphibious assault in the Black Sea,” he said. There were gasps in the room as he continued. “We will land the First Marine Division, Second Marine Division, and the Fourth Marine Division at a point near Poti in Georgia. The objective is to cut through Georgia to the Caspian Sea, a distance of four hundred miles, then turn north. The fleet units will remain in the Black Sea, to destroy or incapacitate their Black Sea Fleet and prevent further operations along the coasts. To do this we will have the American carriers….” The brief went on a few minutes until he turned it over to the commander of the ground forces in the Black Sea.

  General Claire Richardson stood and went to the podium. “Admiral Hustvedt gave you the general outline, however I hope to fill in some of the blanks. We will not be going in alone. The 101st and 82nd Airborne will be dropped in the plains about here,” she said pointing to a place on the map. “At the same time we land, Turkish forces will begin their own incursion into Georgia. They will push forward with six divisions to link up with the Airborne and Marine units and drive on. Our objective is to move north along the Caspian and secure their oil fields. The Turks will then make sure the mountain passes are not available for the Russians to come south. This will bottle them up and make it easier for us to move. We will drive north as far as we can. It is hoped that this and a second landing will draw Russian troops from the west to coincide with the major effort by General Dortmund. The Marine assets will include…”

  After her portion of the brief, Admiral McKennon and General Bryant got up. Their portion was a second landing on Sakhalin Island, crossing to the mainland, then driving toward Vladivostok. At the end, Hammond rose again.

  “There you have it. Operation Arctic Wind. As someone said to me earlier, this combined effort should draw the Russian forces in three directions, taking pressure off their westward movement and then allowing us the chance to push them out of Poland and back into Russia. It will be up to your leadership to determine how far we eventually go. Now are there any questions?” he asked.

  There was silence for a moment which was broken by the King of England. “Admiral Hammond, there is no doubt this is a bold and well thought out move, but I must ask of the cost. We all know the figures of what Russia has against us. I worry of the losses to our young men and women,” he said.

  “Your Majesty, I too share that concern. From the beginning I have urged the use of our technological advancements to blunt that tide and so far, this has been successful. Yet every day we must send letters home to a worried family in Great Britain, France, Germany or the States. This is not what these young men and women had hoped when they thought of someday going to Europe. But they know what is at stake. We must end this evil that has befallen us and restore the democracy each of us in Europe and the United States has worked so hard to achieve. Because if we do not win, the outcome will spread. Even the United States and the countries of South America will eventually have to face it. So we take up arms and we do what we must to get the job done now, in this place. Of course, with God’s help, we will do our utmost to make sure our men and women are not wasted. We will use the tools we have to make the difference, so that when this is over, they and their families can live in the freedom they so richly deserve.”

  There were nods around the room, then someone began to clap. It was taken up by the rest and lasted several minutes until the briefing ended.

  King William came to Hammond and shook his hand. “I would not want your job,” he said. “But I can think of none other to get that job done.”

  “Thank you for the confidence, Your Majesty.”

  “Quite frankly, I haven’t seen such a complicated strategy before. I take it you are simply stretching their forces to the limits,” the King commented.

  “That is correct, Your Majesty. Right now the Russians have a vast superiority in personnel and equipment. But considering the landmass they must protect, our forces have the advantage of making pinpoint strikes and causing a lot of damage and upheaval without fear of meeting those overwhelming odds. If we can pull their forces in three different directions, the odds against us are greatly reduced. This is where our technological superiority can make a huge difference,” Hammond said.

  “That makes a lot of sense. How long did it take your staff to come up with this plan?” the King asked.

  Hammond chuckled. It wasn’t the first time someone asked the question. “Your Majesty, it was essentially written over a two week period by a single officer. The staffs went through it and made suggestions to flesh it out a bit, but it is basically the same as when I received it.”

  “One person did all of this? You must be joking.”

  Hammond shook his head. He saw Jeffers putting his laptop away and motioned for him to join them. “Your Majesty, I think you should meet this young man.” Jeffers walked up from behind the King. He nearly had a heart attack when everyone turned to see him. “Your Majesty, I have the honor to present Lieutenant Commander Rod Jeffers, the author of Operation Arctic Wind.”

  The King extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Commander Jeffers. Your work here is extraordinary,” the King said.

  Shaking the King’s hand, Jeffers quickly got control of his feelings. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I never dreamed I might meet you in my lifetime. I hope I can be of service,” he said.

  “You already have, Commander. I am impressed with the depth of your planning and organization. Are you on Admiral Hammond’s staff?”

  “No, Your Majesty, I am currently on Admiral Hustvedt’s staff. I actually wrote this before hostilities began,” Jeffers said.

  The King’s eves opened wider. “Before the hostilities began? It appears you are somewhat clairvoyant as well,” the King said with a grin.

  “As someone who was in the service, you can understand I am trying to make sure his career path is a favorable one, so I asked if he could join Admiral Hustvedt and see his plan through at sea. I understand his service has been exemplary,” Hammond said. Jeffers’ face turned a bright red.

  The King placed a hand on Jeffers’ shoulder. “Yes, I know what it was like as a junior officer. Prince George in now fifteen and has told me he one day wishes to be a part of the naval service. I look forward to that. Just keep doing your job. I expect you will do well in almost anything you try. I also expect you will one day be visiting Buckingham Palace. When you do, you can sit down with the Prince and tell him of some of your experiences. I look forward to that as well,” he said. He took Jeffers’ hand again.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Jeffers said softly.

  “And you, Supreme Commander. If time permits, and you find you need time away from all this, please let us know and we will arrange some time at Balmoral,” the King said to Hammond while taking his hand.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I appreciate that,” said Hammond.

  With a wink, the King turned and moved to some of the others in the room. Hammond turned to Jeffers. “You are stepping up in the world, Rod. You realize he wasn’t kidding when he said to come to the palace.”

  “Admiral, you keep surprising me like that and I may not survive long enough to make it there,” Jeffers said with a long breath.

  Hammond let out a laugh and slapped Jeffers on the shoulder. “You’re just getting started,” Hammond said as he led Jeffers toward the German Chancellor.

  Moscow

  Patriarch Gregory was almost shaking. It had been a week since he had met with the Pope for their frank discussion on the war. He had
been surprised at the compassion the Pope had expressed on the subject, and especially how he hoped the Russian Orthodox Church would not follow the direction the Catholic Church had gone with Germany during the Second World War. In the end, Gregory had promised to pray about it – something he always said when he wanted to put off a decision. Most times, things were forgotten or just put off indefinitely, but this time it was different. The question stayed with him, haunting his every moment. Even his dreams were about what the Pope had said.

  It wasn’t just that. The Patriarch also knew the dangers of going against the government. It was something ground into every Russian, to obey or be crushed. He risked not only himself, but the church as well. Then another thought came to his mind. It was a simple Scripture. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall become the children of God.” It caused him to think about the trials his Savior had gone through, even unto the cross. Only then did his strength return to him.

  It was a detailed plan. He had sent personal instructions to each of the churches along with a copy of his sermon. He urged his priests not to disobey, but to express dissatisfaction with the decisions of their government in starting this war. He gave the example to give support to each person forced into the war, but not for the ideals of those who sent them. By now, every church had its copy and would be ready when he stepped into the pulpit.

  It was unfortunate that there was no power. The use of generators had to be rationed so a radio address was out of the question. The numbing cold of Moscow in winter was also within the walls of the church. People would be huddled closely just to keep out the cold.

  His attendants came in the room to escort him out. Clad in his robes, they seemed especially heavy today. The ceremony itself seemed to last forever. The prayers, the incense, the reading of scriptures, were almost unbearable. He wanted to get on with it and have it over with. Then one of the young boys came up holding a candle. He looked so innocent, so frail. The wide eyes looked up at Gregory in awe. We must do this for the children, he thought.