by James Rosone
A devilish grin slowly spread across the general’s face. “Millet, I want you to convey to Ernie that I’d really like his forces to capture Kotka and Kouvola, if at all possible. Tell him if he’s able to capture both of those cities from the Russians and he still feels froggy, then I would greatly enjoy buying him a beer at a local pub in Vyborg.”
Millet snickered. He obviously realized that the general wanted to go way outside of the parameters of Operation Nordic Thunder and invade Russia proper. “OK, Sir. I think I know what you mean, and I’ll make sure to craft the orders in such a manner as to indicate your desires while still staying with the general parameters of the original operation,” he replied.
General Cotton nodded and took a sip of the hot coffee that had just arrived.
*******
London, England
10 Downing Street
Two days after the election, Anthony Chattem was seated and going over a tentative proposal with his new National Security Adviser, the current Minister of Defense, and the Chief of the Army. “I campaigned on the message that Great Britain would pursue a separate peace with the Eastern Alliance, withdraw our military forces from the Continent, and end our membership in the Global Defense Force alliance, and I intend to honor the will of the people who voted for me to enact those policies,” he began.
Chattem turned to face the Minister of Defense first. “Sir Craig, I understand the Americans were about to start a new military offensive any day. What is the current status of that?” he inquired, hoping the Americans weren’t going to make it any more difficult for him to implement his strategy.
“The American president ordered the offensive to be paused for the time-being, until our situation can be sorted,” Minister Martin reassured him. “I have spoken personally with General Cotton, the Allied commander for Europe, and he has ordered all British forces to be pulled from the front lines in anticipation of our withdrawal.”
Minister of Defense Craig Martin paused a moment, apparently bracing himself for what he would say next. “I would personally like to commend him in doing that, because it wasn’t a popular decision…I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Prime Minister, the military is adamantly against this decision and does not support it. If the Eastern Alliance prevails, Great Britain will not have any allies to call upon for help,” he replied bluntly. He probably spoke a bit more freely since he knew he was on his way out.
“Duly noted, Sir James. If the generals have a problem with our new stance, they’re free to resign, and I’ll replace them with ones that are willing to comply,” Chattem said with a grin on his face.
He was relishing the angst he was causing within the military. His goal was to keep Britain out of the war, and secretly, he didn’t think switching sides to the Eastern Alliance was all that bad of an idea. He was already sold on elements of the Russian-Chinese model of techno-communism.
Clearing his throat briefly, the National Security Adviser spoke up. “The country is still in the midst of a large military buildup, Mr. Prime Minister. We have tens of thousands of soldiers currently in training and nearly a hundred thousand soldiers on the Continent that will be returning. What is going to be our plan with them moving forward?”
“Our country cannot afford to sustain and build this large of a military, especially in light of our withdrawal from the war. This conflict has been the Americans’ doing from the beginning, and we never should have been involved. When our forces return from combat, I want an immediate halt to the expansion of the military, and I want a demobilization to start. We will return the military to its prewar size. Once we do, we will look for ways to trim the budget where we can, to give more monies to the reconstruction of our nation from the damage sustained during this disastrous war.”
Chattem turned to the Chief of the Army. “General, I’d like your resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. You are relieved of your duties. Please assign your deputy to take over until I can appoint my own man. Sir Craig Martin, you are also relieved of your duties, and I expect your resignation on my desk by tomorrow as well. I ask that you both leave now so I can work with my own staff. Thank you both for your service,” Chattem said, concluding the meeting with the two senior members managing the war during the transition period.
The two got up and left without saying another word, though the scowls on their faces said everything that needed to be said. As they left the room, Mr. Chattem smiled when he overheard the General of the Army muttering something about needing a stiff drink.
Operation Nordic Thunder
Pyhtaa, Finland
Command Sergeant Major Luke Childers walked up to Lieutenant Colonel Alex Schoolman, who was squinting as he looked off in the distance with his field glasses, trying to see if he could spot any enemy tanks or other armored vehicles. His squadron was screening for a much larger tank force that was a couple of kilometers behind him, waiting for the word to advance forward and smash into the Russian lines once Schoolman’s unit found the enemy.
“What are your thoughts, Sergeant Major? You see anything?” he asked, hoping that Childers’ trained eyes might see something he was missing.
Childers scanned to the right with his own field glasses and then zoomed in on something that caught his eye. “There you are,” he said under his breath. A smile crept across his face.
“Yes, Sir. To my three o’clock, near the edge of those trees,” Childers responded. “If you look close enough, you’ll see the barrel from what’s probably a T-90.” He pointed in the direction of where the enemy tank was lurking.
“Good eye, Sergeant Major,” Schoolman said. He turned to some of the soldiers standing behind him. “Someone plot the grid to that location and send it back to brigade. Let’s see if we can get some artillery fire in that tree line and smoke these guys out of their position,” he ordered.
A flurry of activity happened around them as one of the soldiers guided one of the Stryker vehicles forward so they could use the laser range finder on the 105mm cannon. In a few minutes, they had the exact grid of the enemy tank. They relayed that to the artillery battalion for a fire mission to hit the tree line and see what else they could stir up. Five minutes later, they heard the whistling sounds of artillery rounds flying overhead toward the enemy lines.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Geysers of dirt and tree parts billowed upward. Several large secondary explosions flashed in the woods. Then the counterbattery fire kicked in. The distinct whistles of enemy artillery raced over their heads in the direction of their own artillery battalion.
A loud whoosh rushed in the opposite direction. A pair of A-10 Warthogs flew in and strafed the forest, hitting several other tanks. Their attack was swiftly followed by multiple streams of antiaircraft fire as the Russian gunners tried to swat the tank busters from the sky. The 25mm and 30mm rounds crisscrossed the sky, intermixed with a few MANPADS that flew after the aircraft.
As the artillery duel continued and Allied warplanes took turns softening up the Russian lines, the mechanical sound of tanks—dozens upon dozens of tanks—and the low rumbling that shook the ground got closer and louder as the Allied tanks moved forward to their attack positions. Finnish and German tanks moved forward first; they would lead the assault, supported by American Apache gunships and the 2nd Cavalry Regiment. A battalion of American Abrams tanks were being held in reserve while the rest of the 1st Armored Division was further north of their position near Tillola.
Turning to look behind them, Childers almost felt a chill run down his back as he saw columns of German Leopard II tanks with their black Iron Crosses painted on them, advancing toward the Russians. They started to change their formation from a single-file column to a full-abreast attack line. While the first line formed, a second line of German tanks formed up and was quickly followed by a third line, this time a Finnish unit. The three armored lines were quickly being followed up by column after column of infantry fighting vehicles and armored personnel carriers.
“This
is going to be an epic battle,” Sergeant Major Childers thought with glee.
He snapped a couple of pictures from his miniature camera. When he could, he had been sneaking pictures with his digital camera, documenting his participation in the war. Aside from a few mementos for himself, he thought they might hold some historical value someday.
*******
Explosions reverberated through the air as Oberstleutnant Hermann Wulf’s 25th Panzergrenadier Battalion of forty-four Puma infantry fighting vehicles raced to keep up with the Panzers that were charging right into the Russian lines. Sitting behind the gunner, Wulf was looking at the video monitor display of what was happening in front of them. He could see red-hot tank rounds crisscrossing back and forth between the two opposing forces.
Bam! Boom!
Their vehicle was rocked by a near-miss, forcing Wulf to grab for something to hold on to. The driver of the vehicle somehow managed to keep them from rolling over. The soldier manning the vehicle’s 30mm autocannon fired at an unseen target. Then a slew of bullets hit their armored shell, reminding them that the enemy also got a vote in the fighting. This was by no means going to be a one-sided fight.
Wulf’s radio crackled. “Oberstleutnant, the Panzers are breaking to the right. It looks like they found a hole in the enemy lines. Should we follow them or dismount and fight here?” asked one of his company commanders.
“No, stay with the Panzers,” Wulf answered. “Our mission is to support their advance and keep the Russian infantry off their backs. We’ll let the Finns deal with this group of Russians.” Their driver did his best to follow the group of tanks that were now rushing through a hole in the enemy lines.
Wulf looked at the video image being relayed to his screen from the small aerial drone a thousand meters above them. The drone was giving him a wide top-down view of the battle happening around them. He could see several of his vehicles had been destroyed, while many others were heavily engaged with an unseen enemy at the edges of their flanks. Seeing them fighting off to the side meant they were doing their job, keeping the Russian infantry from getting too close to the tanks and firing off their RPGs and other antitank weapons.
Scanning further ahead of where the Panzers were headed, he saw several strong points that might prove challenging for the tanks to overcome. He signaled to the Air Force LNO traveling with him to see if they could get some air support to hit those units.
“Move the drone higher, I want to get us a better overview of the battle,” he said to the young soldier manning the battalion’s eye in the sky.
Boom!
Another explosion rocked their vehicle, slapping it with shrapnel as they continued to keep up with the tanks. The gunner let loose a series of short bursts from their main gun at a target Wulf couldn’t see.
When the drone reached one thousand meters, he saw a cluster of Russian tanks forming up on the opposite side of a small village they were approaching. Spotting the unit, Wulf looked up the frequency to the Panzer unit closest to them, then sent them a quick message, alerting to what he had found. The Panzer unit adjusted their approach to the village while an artillery strike was ordered in.
Looking at the scene unfolding around them was almost like watching a video game or movie; yet this was very real. Groups of tanks and soldiers on the ground were moving into positions to attack and kill each other, and here he sat, in his armored vehicle, observing it. In minutes, he saw a series of elongated tubes slam into the ground, hitting some of the buildings in the small village, blowing them apart as the rocket artillery pummeled the combatants. Minutes turned to hours, and the day turned to night before the battle was finally over, leaving behind a trail of burnt-out wrecks of armored vehicles and torn and twisted bodies.
The tank battle between the German 21st Panzer Brigade and the Russian 3rd Motor Rifle Division and 1st Separate Guards Tank Brigade raged on for nearly six hours as both sides fought viciously before the Russians were forced to withdraw. Once the US 1st Armored Division punched through the Russian lines at Tillola, the Russians had to pull their armor group back to the Russian border and the positions their engineers had been busy building the past several months.
*******
Operation Nordic Thunder would continue for another two months as the Allies fought hard in northern Finland and Norway to push the Russians’ northern operation back to the Russian border. While the fighting had been fierce, it had accomplished its goal of removing the Russians from the Nordic countries and forcing the Russians to divert forces from Western Europe to strengthen their northern border or face the likelihood of a possible threat to St. Petersburg. While the number of troops involved in Nordic Thunder paled in comparison to the armies being assembled on the Continent, it kept the Russians from being able to commit to a large summer offensive as they had to divert significant numbers of reinforcements to keep the Allies from pressing into Russia proper and potentially threatening their second-most-important city.
Russian Resolve
Moscow, Russia
President Petrov was fuming after the defeat of the Russian forces in Finland and Norway. He was furious that, despite months of reprieve and additional reinforcements, General Yury Bukreyev, the commander in charge of Russian forces on the northern front, had failed to hold his ground. His forces should have held for longer than a couple of days.
A short but fiery debate erupted amongst Petrov’s top leadership over what to do about this “problem.” Alexei Semenov, the Minister of Defense, had argued that Bukreyev should be publicly executed, to make an example of him. Colonel General Boris Egorkin explained that he felt this would erode confidence among the leadership with the army, that they might fear that if they retreated, even if it were for a tactical advantage, they would be executed too. Of course, there was also the legal aspect; capital punishment was technically outlawed in Russia. The last public execution was in 1996.
Ultimately, Petrov’s ire overruled any objections by General Egorkin. The law banning executions was speedily overturned after a little arm-twisting from the president, and within a few days, Petrov and his senior cabinet members were seated to watch General Bukreyev’s execution by firing squad.
Before the official presentation began and the cameras were turned on, Minister of Defense Semenov dared to protest one last time. “Mr. President, I must caution you that I feel this is a very bad precedent for us to set. The Soviet Army did this during World War II, and we lost far too many officers at a time when every competent leader was needed to defeat the Nazis.”
“You’ve made your point, General, and I have made mine,” said Petrov, half-surprised that Semenov had spoken at all. “We’re not going to win this war if we don’t hold our military leaders accountable for their failures. We have achieved an enormous success in getting the British to withdraw from the war. We won’t squander that victory by having generals squander their time and resources. I don’t want to discuss this matter any further, is that understood?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” answered Semenov dutifully.
“Good, now smile for the cameras,” said Petrov. “We will have our briefing after this.”
*******
A few hours later, Petrov was seated in a room with the same senior leadership members. He turned to his General of the Army first. “What I want is an update from you. First off—when is our summer offensive is going to start?” he asked, not quite yelling, but clearly irritated. “We’re more than halfway through the summer, and it still hasn’t started.”
“If he doesn’t deliver, Bukreyev won’t be the only officer I make an example of,” Petrov thought.
“I know we’ve had a longer delay than we’d like,” conceded General Egorkin, “and I’m afraid we’re going to have to delay the start of our offensive by at least two more months, but please allow me to finish my brief so I can let you know why this delay is imperative.”
Seeing that he wasn’t immediately removed from the room, Egorkin continued. “At the start
of the war, we had roughly 3,000 T-80 tanks and roughly 6,400 T-72 tanks in cold storage across the country. When the conflict started, we immediately brought these tanks out of storage and began a rapid modernization program. While the T-14 Armatas have been a game changer for us, we’re still only able to produce roughly 100 of these tanks a month. The T-80s and older T-72s may not be nearly as capable, but their sheer numbers will overwhelm the Allies, especially now that the British armored forces have been ordered home.”
“In two months, I will have the necessary number of tanks and new soldiers to launch Operation Armored Fist. Our offensive will start with a massive cruise and ballistic missile attack of the Allied front lines, and then a Spetsnaz attack of several dozen military airfields in Poland, Germany, and the Czech Republic. The Indian manufacturers are now delivering us thousands of missiles a month, and we intend to hit the Allies with such force that it will throw them off balance for our ground offensive.”
He pulled up a visual on the screen in the room, which showed the plan of attack and the timeline for achieving each objective. “General Chayko’s army group will hit the Allies at Ternopil with an armored fist of nearly 10,000 tanks and over 40,000 armored vehicles. Once his force breaks a hole in the Allies’ line, they will drive on Lviv, the provisional capital of Ukraine, and then head straight for Krakow. As his forces advance toward Krakow, two prongs are going to branch off. One will head toward Warsaw and threaten to cut the entire Allied lines off in Belarus and Lithuania. The other arm will drive down to Kosice, Slovenia.”