The Third World War: The Untold Story

by John Hackett

  When lodging his vehement protests in Moscow the Swedish Ambassador stressed that the Soviet Air Force was giving the Viggens little option but to engage if these violations continued. In response he was treated to an intimidating tirade about Sweden’s position as a neutral country. The next day was the fateful 4 August. Sweden’s armed forces, now mobilizing, had their hands full absorbing reservists. The Swedish Air Force, the Flygvapnet, was waiting on a Government decision to deploy some of its elements to dispersed road sites, which would of course to some extent disrupt civilian life and movement and might perhaps cause alarm. The Cabinet took the decisive step of ordering maximum air defence readiness, with the battle flights fully armed and cleared to engage any identified non-Swedish intruders without further reference to higher authority. A statement to that effect was made public to the world, but in the main the world had other things on its mind that day. In Sweden an emergency Cabinet of seven ministers was formed and far reaching powers were taken by unanimous agreement. The Flygvapnet, the spearhead of Sweden’s defence, was as ready as it could be by noon of that day although it had to be recognized that its degree of readiness would decline for a while if full dispersal were ordered.

  The emergency Cabinet decided that the Flygvapnet should stay as it was for the time being. There was growing relief as the day wore on, with nothing untoward happening in Swedish skies. The wishful thinking of the doves that perhaps the USSR had, after all, heeded the Swedish protests was, however, to be shattered the next morning.

  This time the Foxbat approached low over the sea before zooming in a near vertical climb to high altitude, to evade detection by the radar system until it was too late for the fighters to react. But the Flygvapnet Air Defence Command was really on its mettle and, with full authority to engage, was determined somehow or other to destroy the intruder on its way back. Two pairs of Viggens were launched from Uppsala air base to patrol a north/south line centred on Stockholm, athwart the return track to Leningrad from where they knew the Foxbat had come. One pair would be at high altitude and one at medium to low, although it was unlikely that the Foxbat would have enough fuel to pull the low-level trick a second time. Similar blocking patrols were set up with four more Viggen pairs on lines centred on Sundsvall and Umeaa to the north. But the Foxbat pilot had his own good reasons for choosing a southerly track which headed him, with seeming carelessness, near to Stockholm at high altitude and speed.

  Guided by ground control initially, the high-level fighters in the southern sector cut in their after-burners to gain the last few thousand feet to their maximum altitude on an easterly interception course which would bring them below and behind the Foxbat. In the underground operations centre all eyes were riveted on this highspeed drama in the stratosphere. The control staffs and senior officers could sense the nervous excitement of the pilots as they eavesdropped on the clipped dialogue with the interception controllers and watched the mesmerizing green strobes of the radar displays in the eerie half-light of the control rooms.

  The Foxbat pilot was by now well aware of the Viggens’ presence from his tail-warning radar. What was not overheard in the control room was the dialogue that he was having with someone else. In the unusual circumstances of that day it was not altogether surprising that two radar contacts moving very fast indeed from east to west along latitude 60N were not registered as quickly as they might otherwise have been. The battle flight leader was alerted from the ground but that was all that could be done. A trap had been set to teach the Swedes a lesson and they had flown right into it.

  The two incoming Foxbat fighters, among the fastest aircraft in the world, had a height and speed advantage over the Viggens. Even more important, their snap-down Acrid missiles could engage from 45 kilometres’ distance. And they were well informed about the task by their comrade in the west-bound reconnaissance aircraft. Their missiles found their mark just to seaward of the Swedish coast and sent the two JA-37s spiralling towards the sea. Captain Lars Ericsson, the pilot of No. 2 of the pair, fired his ejection seat and blasted his way through the jammed canopy of his disintegrating aircraft. As the seat separated and the main canopy deployed, he saw he was over the sea with a strong easterly wind blowing him back towards the land. There was no sign of his flight leader as he took a quick look round, but the earth was rushing up and although dazed and confused he knew he must get ready for a difficult arrival in a strong wind. He hit hard and was dragged painfully along the ground before coming to rest in a field not far from Uppsala University and his own air base.

  The Soviet intention had been to shoot both aircraft into the sea so that the Swedish Government would get the message plainly without having to share it immediately with the public. But that was carrying refinement a bit too far for such blunt methods and with Ericsson under intensive care with a broken back in Uppsala hospital the cat was well and truly out of the bag. The message was all too clear: ‘Be co-operative in your neutrality or take the consequences.’

  In the fury and confusion of the assault in the Central Region the importance of the Bodo landing in the Soviet plan, in securing the north of Norway and denying its fiords and airfields to the Western allies, was not immediately clear to the Swedes or anyone else. The pilot of the Foxbat had reported, confirmed with photographic detail, the presence there of eleven RAF Buccaneers, four Norwegian Orion maritime aircraft and sixteen F-16 Fighting Falcons. It was correctly guessed that Joint Allied Command Western Approaches (JACWA) would decide to leave the Buccaneers there for future anti-shipping activity, to which the Soviet amphibious group was very likely to fall prey. With the implementation of their northern plans already under way, and such hard intelligence to hand, the conclusion was obvious — that the elimination of those forces and the denial of the airfield to the enemy was of overriding importance.

  The Soviet decision to mount a sizeable attack with high-speed SU-24 Fencers against these valuable Allied assets was inevitable. For reasons of aircraft range (with the added bonus of surprise from a backdoor attack) it would have been operationally simpler to have mounted this across Sweden, but Moscow decided instead that it was better to let the Swedes lick their wounds for a while and take counsel of their fears. Accordingly, the attack was mounted from Murmansk with TU-16 Blinder and Fencer aircraft moved there from the Leningrad area. They were routed clear of Swedish airspace but if in difficulty could cross the tip of it, where it was in any case very lightly defended.

  For the next few days the pressure was kept on Bodo, to neutralize it until the Soviet amphibious force made its landing there on 15 August. Reconnaissance flights continued to be made over Sweden, whose neutrality, now under some strain, nonetheless persisted. But the problem of what the country should do was debated intensely by Swedes everywhere, bitter, angry and frustrated by the shooting down of the Viggens that were doing no more than protecting national airspace. This last incident would undoubtedly have had its effect on the decision, strongly recommended by the Flygvapnet staff, to allow a force of thirty NATO fighters to refuel secretly at two Swedish airfields on the night of 13/14 August. These aircraft were engaged on an operation, described in Chapter 11, to attack key bridges in Poland at a critical juncture of the battle on the Central Front. If the operation was to succeed, the attacking aircraft had to approach their targets from the north, rather than fly over a heavily defended area, and for this purpose their routing over Sweden was ideal. Permission was accordingly sought via the recently installed Swedish liaison officer at Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE) not only to overfly but to take on fuel as well. The Swedish Cabinet — the decision was taken at that level — were divided about it but eventually agreed provided that the landing was at night and the turn-round fast. No Swedish protection would be given, nor could aircraft recover via Swedish airfields unless in distress. Some damaged aircraft did put down in the event, with Soviet aircraft pursuing them. Two of the four Soviet Foxbats that attempted to enter Swedish airspace were in fact shot down by Vigge
ns that were watching for them. Only this part of the incident reached the press; the use of the airfields by the NATO force did not.

  While the war thus developed around them, the Swedish Government debated daily the range of options over which they had some control and some over which they could see plainly they were powerless. The left-wing opposition made it clear that they would oppose any policy that took Sweden into the war; and whilst some on the extreme left let it be known privately that they would gladly give assistance to the Soviet Union short of military force, the majority were dedicated to ‘maintaining neutrality in all foreseeable circumstances’ — a phrase used often by their speakers in the debates in the Riksdag — ‘which leaves the left ready to sell out to the Soviets if the going gets too rough’, as a cynic on the Government side is said to have remarked quietly to a neighbour when he first heard the words.

  The arguments went on. The news of the American landing in Norway had been coming in on the morning of 15 August and was clutched at with relief as the first sign of a Soviet setback there. It was then that the Soviet Ambassador asked urgently for a meeting with the Swedish Prime Minister, Bjorn Osvald, at 12.15 that day. What happened at the meeting has long since been made public. This is the Prime Minister’s account of it.

  The Soviet Ambassador entered and I had at once the impression of a man who had donned a mask; he was so different from the good-humoured person I had met on so many occasions.

  ‘I have an important message from my Government,’ he said, ‘a message which I ask you to receive and weigh most carefully. It is this.

  ‘At 1300 hours today, a stream of Soviet aircraft will pass over your territory. Subsequently, there will be other air movements, all of which will be notified in sufficient time to your air traffic control authorities. The Soviet Government means no harm to you in this matter. I give you a guarantee that no aerial or other attacks are to be made upon you providing that…’he looked up from the paper from which he was reading this message ‘… providing that you do not attempt in any way to harm or impede our aircraft. Moreover, the Government and people of the Soviet Union will not forget acts of friendly assistance granted by states which have remained aloof from its struggle for existence.’

  There was a pause. It became clear to me that he evidently had nothing more to say. I was almost overwhelmed by this news. He spoke again.

  ‘Is there any message you wish me to give my Government in reply?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It is just this. We have taken the decision to defend our territory — land, sea or air — against anyone, anyone at all, who attacks or encroaches upon us. That, of course, includes the Soviet Union. Please advise your Government not to send their aircraft across Sweden.’

  ‘You realize this will mean war — with all the terrible consequences for your people?’ he remarked.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. I sought to keep my voice calm. ‘It is of your choosing. Now, please hurry to send my reply.’

  ‘Very well.’ He left the room still, as it were, masked.

  I telephoned the Minister of Defence and the Minister of External Affairs while my secretaries summoned an urgent Cabinet meeting. The decision was confirmed. The country was at war.[12]

  This did not, of course, imply that Sweden had now become a member of NATO but it did mean a readiness to fight in association with NATO against a common enemy.

  The Flygvapnet was naturally at alert status and the orders to defend were sent out immediately. The Viggens took off. Squadrons were drawn in from distant bases. After some three hours the Soviet Air Force had won a qualified victory over the defenders, inflicting heavy casualties. But almost a third of the Soviet transports and their TU-28 Fiddler fighter escorts had been lost or forced to turn back. The remainder had pressed on across the border into Norway.

  That evening the Prime Minister spoke to the nation. The Flygvapnet and all the forces involved had performed superbly, he said, and a heavy price had been paid for this outrageous violation of the country’s neutrality. The Cabinet had now decided that the nation must be put on a full war footing. Sweden’s armed forces would defend the country against any further violations. In such grave times, he went on, he could offer no forecasts about what might happen next or where events might lead. Sweden’s record in the terrible events now overtaking Europe was impeccable and he had no doubt that whatever demands or sacrifices might be involved the Swedish people would be true to themselves and the noble tradition of their country. Sweden sought peace between nations above all else. He knew he spoke for every Swede when he said they would fight on for ever to defend their country.

  The people took the grave news courageously. The concept of doing all that might be needed to defend the country’s neutrality was fully accepted and as the media traced the casualties of individual families, public opinion against the Soviet Union became embittered. Lesser incursions by Soviet aircraft continued in the next few days, in support of the campaign in Norway. The distinction between defending neutrality and being at war started to blur fairly quickly in the minds of the average Swede and a sense of Nordic kinship grew stronger. Important links were quietly established with Allied Forces Northern Europe (AFNORTH), notably for a complete exchange of early warning information. Whatever neutrality might mean, the Swedish armed forces had no intention of allowing it to prevent them from fighting in the most efficient way they could.

  The loss of Jutland on the first day of hostilities, and the consequential loss of Schleswig-Holstein shortly after was due to the combination of an intense chemical attack on Jutland and a coup de main by assault forces concealed in Soviet, East German and some ostensibly neutral merchant ships on passage through the Kattegat. These had made almost unopposed landings in Aarhus, Aalborg and Frederikshavn on Jutland. Zealand had fallen after hard fighting between the reinforced Danish defence and a seaborne assault force mounted from the western Baltic ports. Unexpectedly, Bornholm, its radar and radio resources smashed by air attack, had been left to its own devices until, almost at leisure, a Polish airborne division had fallen upon it. Many of the Allied aircraft in the BALTAP (Baltic Approaches) Tactical Air Force escaped to the Federal Republic of Germany or to Norway. A daring naval operation, covered by air, was mounted by Commander, South Norway, to rescue some of the Danish and British troops from Zealand and in the final phase of the battle for the island. Though four of nine warships and transports were lost, the remainder returned intact to unload in the Oslo fiord. The aircraft and troops from BALTAP were absorbed as reinforcements to south Norway, or moved to reinforce the north.

  Commander, North Norway, had been fighting an intense battle from the outset of the war when, as expected, almost all his early warning radars were destroyed and his airfields, ports and principal defence areas were raided frequently and heavily by aircraft based on the Kola Peninsula. The Soviet motor rifle division which crossed the frontier at Kirkenes on 4 August made a more rapid advance than expected through extensive use of heliborne infantry and engineers supported by swarms of ground-attack aircraft, and by heavy and medium artillery firing at maximum ranges with a frequency and weight of shell that bewildered the light forces of Norwegian infantry. As they advanced, a Soviet airborne division captured Andoya and Evenes. A considerable amphibious force, judged to be carrying Soviet specialized naval assault infantry and a motor rifle division, was observed on passage from Murmansk. A further four Soviet divisions were seen by Allied air reconnaissance to be crossing Finland towards southern Finnmark and eastern Troms counties. Tromso airfield was devasted. Only Bardufoss, so inaccessible among the surrounding mountains to the south of Tromso and well defended by air defence missiles since 1984, survived as an air base.

  Some looked anxiously to the western horizon for urgent relief: somewhere across the seas the carriers of SACLANT’s (Supreme Allied Commander Atlantic’s) Strike Fleet were active and mobile and must, surely, be moving sooner or later to attack the Kola bases and relieve north Norway. The robust Norwe
gian general in command of that area knew, however, that he could not immediately count on the appearance of the Strike Fleet: he had to fight a sea/air and land/air battle with the national and Allied forces he had in hand, and such others as CINCNORTH (Commander-in-Chief Allied Forces Northern Europe) could strip out from elsewhere to aid him. Fortunately, he had a wide knowledge of local circumstances, a cool head and shrewd judgment.

  An early decision was made to maintain Bardufoss as a base for reconnaissance to the east and a forward operating location for air defence fighters. The British Harriers, dislodged from Tromso, were kept in the north, flying from stretches of straight road and maintained from villages in the shadow of adjacent mountains. CINC-NORTH’s Regional Air Commander directed American F-111s from England to attack the Soviet air bases developing at Andoya, Evenes and Bodo. Otherwise, Commander, North Norway’s air effort fell back necessarily upon Trondheim, i.e. Orland and Vaernes airfields. Nord-Trondelag passed into the northern command.

  Evenes airfield was recaptured on 6 August by a Norwegian brigade and their comrades in the Allied Command Europe (ACE) Mobile Force, though about one-third of the Soviet parachutists escaped to the lines their compatriots had set up to cover Andoya. This was good news for Commander, North Norway, and CINCNORTH, but each knew that bad news was on the doorstep. The first of the Soviet divisions crossing Finland was rapidly approaching the Norwegian frontier on the Finnish wedge, with another immediately behind. The northernmost invading Soviet division completed its crossing of Finnmark on 9 August, when all three began a concerted drive which was held only by committing every Norwegian soldier from Bardufoss to the north. Next day, the Soviet amphibious force turned shoreward towards Bodo and began to smash a passage through the minefields to a landing near the airfield.