Demobilization
The Company Sergeant Major walked up toward the check point and looked at the pasty-faced newbies manning it, these pitiful excuses for what were, charitably, called “soldiers.”
Dear God, look at these clowns! They don’t even make good policemen, much less soldiers. I bet the guy at the check point can’t even load his rifle properly, much less aim and shoot with any accuracy. Time for me to join the rest of my buddies, get out of the Army and cash in on that G.I. Bill. Hell, I’ve got plenty of points from my time in combat. Man, will you look at that guy? He couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag! Where did they get these guys?
“Hey bud, where you from?”
“Wisconsin.”
“Kill many Krauts there?”
“Screw you, asshole!”
He decided to let that one go for now, but made a point to remember that kid's face. He'd mete out his own special brand of discipline later, out of school.
He looks down at the Inspector-General's report in his hands. His boss, the company commander, also a combat veteran like himself thought that he might enjoy a little light reading.
“The replacements coming to Europe were not only unskilled but, in increasing numbers, untrained. In November and December 1945, ninety-five percent of U.S. Forces, European Theater's personnel requests were for men with technical service specialties. Of those who arrived, only thirteen percent had the required qualifications, and not to any high degree.
Beginning in January, replacements were shipped overseas after only eight weeks' of basic training, which did not attempt to go beyond qualification with the M-l rifle, personal hygiene and sanitation, and orientation for occupation duty, with an emphasis on discipline.
The Theater Command's Inspector-General made inspection tours in Paris, Metz, and several areas in the U.S. occupation zone of Germany, and reported the following:
“Discipline is generally poor and at the time of this report, is below desirable standards. Definite responsibility for maintaining discipline where troops of various arms and services are stationed, has not been satisfactorily established.
Incidental to the shortage of personnel, the majority of replacements are not receiving the additional disciplinary basic training, as required.”
Due to a marked lack of qualified senior command staff in-theater, many junior officers are now assigned command responsibilities far beyond their demonstrated capability for vital installations and units.”[vii]
Jesus, this army is a mess! Even I can see that. Most of these guys never saw combat. All of the old hands shipped out long ago. They're down to guys with 35 points, for God's sake!
Time to get out. All the good stuff was looted anyway. Sure wish we could have had a crack at Berlin. The Reds got most of the good stuff there.
Untrained troops, and not enough of them. Now was a good time for the Reds to attack. Good thing we've got the A-bomb. That'll stop them in their tracks. Yeah, it's a good time to get out.
Memo
Memo
To: Polar Bear
From: Cyclops
Subject: Troop Strengths
We currently have 22 nominal divisions on occupation duty in Europe. The British have 12 in their zone of occupation and the French have 8. Almost all are at half-strength. Even a relatively small force of 60 full-strength Soviet divisions would cut through our lines, like a hot knife through butter. Our air force is in slightly better shape with 10,000 frontline combat aircraft worldwide.
Our demobilization effort has been wildly successful. Five months after V-J Day, 8.5 million Allied soldiers had been demobilized.
By contrast our estimates are that the Soviets have 66 full-strength divisions, capable of attacking at any time. They have the capability of mobilizing a total of 273 full-strength combat divisions within thirty days, and by D-day+60 they can deploy an estimated 270 divisions to Europe, 42 divisions to the Middle East and 49 divisions to the Far East. They have over 14,000 frontline combat aircraft currently in service.
The Soviet client nations in Eastern Europe are capable of mustering a combined total of 84 of what we would consider “second-line” divisions, in addition to 850 combat aircraft, between them all. Further estimates indicate that they have more than enough combat strength to attack and overwhelm Greece and Italy.
“Jeez, Frank not another one of your “the sky is falling” memos. You know the White House is ignoring all of your Chicken Little crap.”
“I’m just doing my job, Jim, and passing on what information we've gathered out in the field. Whether someone takes us seriously or not is not my problem…until the Reds attack, that is. Then they’ll try and pin it on me. That’s why I keep sending the memos that no one reads…CYA, Jim. CYA...[viii]
Human Nature Wins! Despite orders against it, Fraternization was Rampant
Chapter Three: War!
IL-10 Sturmovik
***
What follows; comes from intercepted transcripts, testimony and documents of the first hours of war.
***
D-18 Minutes
Forward Signal Corps Radar Station
Near Fulda, Germany
May 2nd, 1946
05:42 hours
“Sorry to wake you sir, but we have multiple bogies coming in from the east approaching the demarcation line…”
“Yes sir, I agree it probably is the Soviets returning to their duty stations in eastern Germany from the May Day Parade in Moscow. I apologize for bothering you, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have called. Do you remember, sir, the intelligence warnings we received about the threat of a Soviet surprise attack sometime in May? Well, sir, the trouble is that it appears that there is a shitload of aircraft returning. I’d estimate judging by the radar returns, that there are over ten times more aircraft returning than left for Berlin. They don’t have the landing field capacity for all those planes under normal circumstances…”
“Yes sir we’ve checked the calibration on the SCR-584, and it is working just fine… No sir, I haven’t been drinking…Yes sir I will await further orders.”
D+17 Minutes
U.S. Army Occupation Headquarters
Bonn, Germany
May 2nd, 1946
06:47 hours
A captain with fear in his eyes and shaking hands practically rips a phone out of the wall in his haste to call his HQ commander. He is virtually alone in the HQ. The few others present stop what they are doing and stare at the captain in undisguised astonishment as he screams into the phone.
“SIR! ALL RADIO COMMUNICATIONS HAVE BEEN JAMMED! IT HAPPENED ABOUT TEN MINUTES AGO! Yes sir, sorry sir, I’ll calm down…”
“We also have telephoned spotter reports of a massive attack on our forward air bases all over the western occupation zones of Germany. A number of bases appear to have lost telephone contact and we are not receiving any radio signals of any kind.”
“What was that, sir...?”
“Yes sir, I’d estimate, using the scant information coming in, that an overwhelming majority of our forward bases are either currently under attack or have already been destroyed…No sir, I wish to God this was a drill…”
“Yes sir, it is my professional opinion that we are under a massive attack, and that the Reds have started World War Three... No sir, I have no idea why they would have attacked, nor what their objectives are.”
One of his colleagues hands him a message.
“Excuse me a second, sir...It appears that we now have a confirmed report of Red Army units now crossing the demarcation line under a heavy rolling artillery barrage…”
“Yes sir, the report says that our units are being destroyed where they stand. Sir we must pull back and fight a delaying action. We cannot stand up to this initial attack with the units we have.”
“Hell sir, all of the units positioned in those forward areas are at half-strength! How are we supposed to stop a Soviet JS-2 heavy tank with our pop-guns, sir?” The captain starts
looking through the sheaf of papers that he was just handed “Good God, sir! Many of our few heavy artillery emplacements are being destroyed by those flying tanks the Soviets have! They come in screaming at 250mph spitting 23-mm cannon shells, cluster-bombs and rockets! What, sir? Okay, I got it…Sturmoviks… they are called Sturmoviks.”
With mounting fear in his voice, and an insolence born of it, the captain continues “My question for you is, where is our air cover? These freakin’ Stormo...whatever the hell they’re called, are all over us! You can’t shoot them down from the ground. They’re like flying tanks and they are killing our armor and any strong points we setup with ridiculous ease! It’s like 1940 all over again and we’re the French! We need air support, sir!”
“I don’t even know if we can pull back our forces without air cover. We need air cover and we need it now! We are dead meat with these things flying around!”
D+3 Hours
The White House
Washington, D.C.
May 2nd, 1946
0300, Eastern Standard time
A loudly-ringing telephone at the bedside rudely awakens President Harry Truman. He groggily picks it up, and on the other end of the line he hears, “Sorry to wake you Mister President, but our worst fears have come true. The Soviets have attacked all along the line of separation in Western Germany.”
Sitting up in bed, shocked, with Bess blearily staring at him, President Truman listens as the Admiral makes his report, “Do you remember our briefing in April, sir...? Yes it is all starting to happen just as we feared. Our frontline troops are being overrun, God help them, and our air assets have been caught on the ground… Yes sir, just like Pearl Harbor. Pretty amazing how we keep getting our clocks cleaned by surprise attacks. Luckily they have no demonstrated strategic long-range bomber capability, or the complimentary long-range fighter escort for any kind of strategic attack. But they do have a hell of a tactical and operational reach, sir.”
“Quite frankly, our troops are getting slaughtered, sir. I urgently recommend that we implement the war plan that the Joint Chiefs were discussing, for just this eventuality.”
Knowing that her being there would only get in the way, the First Lady puts on her dressing gown and leaves the room, while the President takes a moment, putting on a robe, then bids the Admiral to continue, “Well, sir, the short version of the plan is we do a fighting retreat and fall back. You need to issue the order now, sir, to fall back, and to try and save as many soldiers and airmen as possible.”
The Admiral continues with trepidation in his voice, “I know it will mean abandoning millions of allied civilians to the communists but staying and fighting will just destroy what fighting forces we do have left. We must fall back to France and the Low Countries, along the Rhine River, in order to survive to fight another day. As you might recall sir, we only have twenty-two half-strength divisions in-theater. The latest estimates are that we are facing a minimum of 100 divisions between the Soviets and their Red allies…”
The President asked for clarification, “You know, sir; Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Yugoslavia and Albania. Yes sir, all those Balkan countries. They are rumored to be well-equipped and sufficiently trained to take out Italy and Greece. As you well know sir, they are just about our only allies, besides France, in the Northern Mediterranean region.”
The Admiral pauses to take a breath, awaiting the President’s reaction to all the information; then continues, “Sir, I believe that time is of the essence and I highly recommend that you order a general withdrawal, towards France. A ‘fighting withdrawal’ would sound better to the press. We need to do it now before our forces are destroyed.”
The President gives his assent and calls for his Chief of Staff to have the paperwork drawn up for him to sign. The Admiral says, “Thank you Mister President” then he covers up the telephone receiver, calling out into the room, “Major Grabowski! Get your ass in here!” A Marine major double-times it into the Admiral’s office. As soon as the paperwork arrives from the White House, issue Combined Chiefs’ General Order Number 4598 authorizing a ‘fighting retreat’ towards France and the Low Countries, for all U.S. forces now engaged in combat, inside Germany. We will make our first stand on the Rhine.”
He gets back on the phone with the President, “You’ve made the right decision, sir, and saved many American and Allied lives. Yes sir, I will have a briefing set up for 0600.” [ix]
***
This demonstrates how much foreknowledge the Soviets had before they started World War Three. Pieced together from diaries and testimony of participants. Remember this story for later use as Yevgeny and the Frenchman who greet him will tragically embrace again later in the book.
***
The Nine Cornucopias
The C-47 was rattling like normal. No novel or unexpected sounds, just the habitual calliope of moans, groans, wind noises and, of course the welcome roar of the engines. The engine noise was different, as was the placement of side door. It was on the wrong side! Yevgeny was a little disconcerted by this even though he had been practicing with this plane for a number of months. Years of previous training on the Soviet Lisunov Li-2 were hard to change.
This was one of the true Douglas C-47 Dakotas given to the Soviet Union, through Lend Lease, so, it was very old by comparison. For this operation, they were using as many of the surviving American C-47’s as possible. The Soviet version, the Li-2 had a slightly different engine sound, and if a Yankee or Limey fighter approached from the right angle they could see the patched up hole, where the turret was removed. The Li-2’s had a machine-gun turret a third of the way back from the nose, whereas the C-47 did not. They had been planning this operation for six months and were escorted by repainted Lend-Lease P-47 Thunderbolts. Those intentional overflights, far into Western airspace, were designed to give them one more edge in what could possibly be a complete fiasco.
They had been told that all the radio signals given out by their planes were supposedly on the latest Amerikosy frequency. Combined with the fog of war, and all the unscheduled flights all over the Occupied Zones of Western Germany, the flight was expected to be uncontested. Things were very lax in occupied Germany and France. The American troops left behind were not very well-trained, or motivated, and some actively engaged in looting and that involved using the C-47 for transporting their ill-gotten gains. The capitalist pigs were making fortunes by stealing the fruits of their own worker’s labor. And that is, of course, why we will win, thought Yevgeny.
According to the NKVD there were nine depots that were filled with the leftovers from the Amerikosy army. That was their target. NKVD said there was enough equipment and ammunition to fully equip ninety rifle and tank divisions, and keep them in the field for six months. The Yankees did not know how to turn off the supply tap, and tens of thousands of trucks, thousands of tanks, ammunition and their canned rations sat in these depots, spread over hundreds of hectares. The equipment was tended by thousands of German Hitlerite prisoners, and a few Yankee overseers. It would truly be a magnificent sight.
Their story, if confronted by radio, was that they were evacuating ahead of the Soviet attack, which had started hours before. By now much of the fighter strength of the U.S., U.K. and France were either lying in smoldering heaps on the ground, or using their last bit of fuel to escape their pursuers. Other airborne troops were being used to take over airfields, far from the front. The odds against the western fighters were so staggering, and the surprise was so complete, that the 500 or so frontline fighters of the Western Allies in Europe were either destroyed or beating a hasty retreat.
Their antiaircraft forces were not in much better shape. The replacement troops had not been trained in how to use their wonderful, new, radar sets or even how to set the VT fuses, which were stored by the millions, in those wonderful cornucopias that the Yankees had so thoughtfully, left behind.
The planes in the flight were so obviously American, and were supplied with all the right ra
dio call signs, there was no reason for them to be attacked by ground antiaircraft fire, but one never knew. Even the paint schemes had been copied. The real threat might arise from their own air force mistaking them for fleeing Amerikosy. Precautions had been taken, but accidents did happen.
Yevgeny knew nothing of this. The paratroopers in their transports were surprisingly young. The Red Army had not done a major airborne operation since 1942. The last time had been at night, whereas this one would be in broad daylight, and at low level; just barely enough time for their parachutes to open. They had been practicing this particular operation for over four months, in addition to all their previous training. He was surprisingly calm. The other desantniki appeared to be as well. The story they had been told was that there were nearly a dozen huge military depots spread all throughout Western Germany and France. These depots were their intended targets.
They were said to be full of western treasures, along with all the heavy equipment and ammunition they would need to defend themselves, until their comrades came to relieve them. In addition, they were to search for specific electronic gear. The officers had the information, so it did not concern him. He was more interested in the watches, silk stockings and diamonds he was told would be theirs for the taking. But first, he and his squad were all business. There would be plenty of time to inventory the wealth, and divide it up.
He just hoped that the Frogs, who were to initially infiltrate the depot, were doing their job. He understood the higher calling of Communism over Capitalism, but he still found it amazing that the Communists in France would so openly assist the NKVD, and now the Red Army. The paratroopers were not there to take the depot but to keep it and its treasures safe until the rest of the army relieved them. Their electronic beacons would direct them in.
World War Three 1946 Series Boxed Set: Stalin Strikes First Page 3