Tin Soldiers

by Michael Farmer

  “For now, start getting a jump on this thing,” Estes continued. “Scrub your deployment packets and family support group plans. I don’t want any breakdowns because of administrative SNAFUs, got it?”

  Stuart raised a hand.

  “Yeah, Mike?”

  “Can we tell the men, sir? It won’t be long before they start hearing about it.”

  Estes nodded. “Yeah. Get your companies together and issue warning orders. I’ll talk to the entire battalion this afternoon. Besides, you know the wives will be calling soon to find out what the hell’s going on. They somehow always manage to find out before we do. But tell the men to keep quiet until Third Brigade releases the official word. Otherwise we’ll have every television station in town around here. And I’ll have the appropriate scrotums on a chain around my neck if that happens. Clear?”

  Once again there were nods from around the table. This time they were accompanied by a general crossing of legs and shifting in seats as the company commanders mentally pictured that particular form of military justice.

  CHAPTER 2

  That Old-Time Religion

  14 October: Colorado Springs, Colorado (AP)—The 3rd Brigade of the 4th Infantry Division (Mechanized) deployed today from Fort Carson, Colorado, along with other 4th ID units from Fort Hood, Texas. The deployment, announced by President Drake just days ago, is in response to a Kuwaiti request for American troops in the aftermath of increased Iraqi activity along the Kuwait-Iraq border. Colonel Bill Jones, the “Striker Brigade” commander, says their mission in Kuwait is to deter any threat posed by Iraqi forces conducting maneuvers across the Kuwaiti border. The latest estimates have total Iraqi strength in the area at one division, roughly three times the size of the deploying American force.

  17 October: NBC Evening News Report—“Tonight we can report to you that the contingent of American troops mobilized to Kuwait have drawn equipment and are moving as we speak toward that tiny nation’s northern border. Reports say the draw of vehicles and equipment went well and the brigade will be in place within twelve hours.”

  18 October: Baghdad (USA Today)—Iraqi president Abdul Aref today voiced his outrage at the United States’ latest deployment of troops to Kuwait. He said that the large number of American troops on Arab soil is an “abomination to Allah” and that this action is an attempt by America to extend their control within the region. Aref stated that President Drake is “manipulating the royal family and the Kuwaiti government into believing they are protecting them from their enemies, when in reality the Americans are the enemy.” The Iraqi leader called on the Islamic world to rally behind his cause.

  18 October: Tehran (New York Times)—The Ayatollah Mohammed Khalani, leader of the Islamic Revolution, today congratulated President Abdul Aref for becoming not only a great leader of men, but a true leader of nations and Islam. Khalani proclaimed that “Aref speaks for Allah, and that the Great Satan [the United States] must once and for all remove itself from Arab soil and Arab affairs.” The ayatollah has also spoken to the leaders of neighboring Arab nations during the past two days and is thought to be rallying support for Aref and his fundamentalist movement.

  The White House

  19 October, 0700 Hours Eastern

  President Jonathan Drake, his chin resting on steepled fingers, gazed at his advisors arrayed around the conference table. In his initial term, Drake was fifty-six years old. As a professor of political science at Florida State University in the 1980s, he had grown tired of lecturing his students about what was wrong with their country’s political system. Putting his money where his mouth was, he had run for and won a seat in the Senate representing the Sunshine State.

  Known as a plain speaker, Senator Drake had enjoyed the confidence of his constituents for over a decade. But after three successful terms, the senator began to feel like a professional politician. Not enjoying the feeling—Drake had always fancied himself more of a Mr. Smith than a Kennedy—he had called it quits. His last act as a United States senator was to initiate legislation that limited the number of terms that both senators and representatives to the House could hold. In his mind, this was the only solution to the personal power quests running rampant throughout Congress. Maybe, just maybe, it would solve the problem of politicians worrying more about how to stay in office than in carrying out the duties they had been elected to accomplish.

  The Clinton scandals of the 1990s, however, had put a sour taste in Drake’s mouth—a sour taste regarding the climate in the White House, a sour taste regarding how Congress had handled the whole affair, and a sour taste for the American political system in general. Drake had begun to feel the need to make a difference again. Giving up the early retirement he’d just begun learning to enjoy, he ran for the presidency. In a close vote, he became the first Independent elected to the Oval Office.

  Washington insiders didn’t know what to make of their new president. His vice president was a woman more conservative than Reagan, his secretary of state a flaming Democrat, and his secretary of defense a former air force officer. The only similarities among them were that they were hands down the best-qualified candidates for their respective posts.

  The current minicrisis in Kuwait was President Drake’s first foreign policy test. Thus far there’d been myriad economic and domestic issues to deal with. The U.S. economy hadn’t seen lofty returns, as were present in the late 1990s, in a few years; pro-life and pro-choice advocates once again were at each other’s throats; the price of oil, having only recently stabilized, was once again on the rise. The list went on.

  Kuwait’s request for assistance came on the heels of Iraq’s new president initiating a series of large-scale military maneuvers in the extreme southern portion of Iraq. So far, President Aref’s forces had not strayed across the border, but Kuwait was nervous. Other than Kuwait, most nations didn’t consider the exercises a threat.

  Except for the odd bombing campaign to punish Iraqi air defense units for lighting up U.S. fighters in the no-fly zone with their radars, things had been fairly quiet for the past few years. As time passed, Iraq appeared to be willing to go along with the mandates imposed upon it by the United Nations in 1991. A year earlier the U.N. had lifted all sanctions on Iraq because the majority of their demands had been met and they were tired of public outcry over the unnecessary hardship the sanctions imposed on Iraq’s citizens. Most of the world regarded this as a positive sign and felt the Middle East was moving in the right direction, although a few intelligence agencies still insisted that disturbing questions remained unanswered regarding Hussein’s stocks of chemical and biological weapons.

  The president looked over his advisors, his gaze finally resting on the secretary of state, Adam Ridley. “What do you have for me, Adam?”

  Ridley cleared his throat and adjusted his bow tie. Worldwide, the bow tie was his trademark. In Ridley’s office, his walls were adorned with photos of himself wearing a bow tie in front of the capitol buildings of more than a hundred nations. The Sunday political commentators joked that Ridley had lobbied for his current posting not because of his qualifications—which were extensive—but to broaden his collection.

  “Mr. President,” the secretary of state began, “the situation along the border appears to have stabilized over the past few hours. I recommend at this juncture that we attempt to arrange some sort of summit between Iraq and Kuwait. I’d suggest Jordan as an intermediary.”

  The president nodded. “I like it, Adam. Have you attempted to start the ball rolling?”

  Ridley adjusted his tie and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Sitting back in his chair, President Drake crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m curious as to the responses you’ve received. I’ve placed a few calls myself, and I’ve only heard back from Kuwait, Bahrain, and Qatar.” Drake cocked his head and stared at Ridley. “Don’t you find that a little strange, Adam? While I try to keep things in perspective and don’t want to get too caught up in the title, I am the president of the United
States.”

  The sarcasm in that last remark caught the senior diplomat off guard. “Mr. President,” the Secretary of state said after taking a few moments to compose himself, “the only representatives I’ve managed to speak with thus far, in governments other than those you mentioned, are staff underlings. I admit it is a bit unusual, but—”

  “Keep working on it and let me know if you make any progress. At this point I feel it prudent to look at alternatives—just in case there’s a reason behind the cold shoulders.”

  “Mr. President,” Ridley quickly broke in, “if you are talking about military alternatives, well, I must say I feel we are being a bit premature.”

  The president looked thoughtful. “Gentlemen, what if, and I do mean what if . . . what if, between Iraq and Iran, enough pressure is brought on the friendly and neutral Arab states that they feel forced to stay out of any Iraqi power play? Assuming, of course, that they don’t outright support one.”

  “Could you elaborate, Mr. President?” asked Ronald Newman, Drake’s secretary of defense. Newman was a retired air force general. In military circles he was well known as the most decorated fighter pilot of the Vietnam era.

  Drake rose and began pacing, hands clasped behind his back, head slightly raised. His former students at Florida State would have recognized it as his standard teaching posture. “Iraq still retains the largest and best-trained army in the Middle East. Iran by far has the largest population. The governments neighboring them are already feeling the potential force of this alliance.”

  The senior military men nodded understanding.

  The president continued. “All we’re hearing from Iraq and Iran are promises of peace, but we have no idea what they’re saying behind the scenes to their other Islamic brothers. Are they using threats to keep their neighbors out of a potential fight? Or promises of a powerful and united Arab people? Perhaps they’re suggesting a new period of Islamic enlightenment is in order, with Iraq and Iran in the forefront. I hazard to guess that they would probably use a combination of these threats and promises to achieve their purposes.”

  Drake stopped pacing and gazed through the window into the Rose Garden. He took in the beauty of the flowers for a moment, then turned to look at the assembled group of men whose task it was to aid him in making the decisions the American people counted on him to make.

  Drake’s next words were spoken slowly and deliberately. “Gentlemen, should the Iraqis decide this is the time to prove themselves in the eyes of the world, we’ll likely see no support from our western allies, with the possible exception of the United Kingdom.”

  Newman spoke up. “Alone, sir? You don’t think the rest of the West would support us?” With Newman at the table were the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Tom Werner, and the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, Christopher Dodd.

  Drake shook his head. “I’ve spoken quietly with most of my counterparts this morning, and most of them can’t afford to. Every nation that supported us during the Gulf War has undergone massive military cuts. Not to mention that a large portion of their forces remains tied up in peacekeeping operations in Europe and elsewhere.” He shrugged. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, gentlemen. It’s not about fighting—it’s about ‘keeping the peace’ around the world.

  “A couple of the European heads of state outright recommended that we stay out of this one.” The frustration was clear on Drake’s face. “If it turns into an armed conflict, the only way that our ‘allies’ would become involved is if the flow of oil were threatened.”

  “And it wouldn’t be, Mr. President?” asked Werner.

  Drake turned to Dodd and nodded. “Chris just briefed me a few minutes ago on some disturbing information that several of his field offices have turned up. You’ll understand why I brought you all in here an hour earlier than our scheduled meeting. Chris?”

  Drake sat down and motioned for Dodd to take the floor.

  The CIA director stood. “Some unofficial calls have gone out from Baghdad to various heads of state—heads of state to nations we have always considered friends. The callers have assured these heads of state that not only will the oil flow go unchecked if a change takes place in the region, but that the cost per barrel will actually be cut—significantly. Quite an incentive not to get involved in a confrontation they can’t really afford anyway. Add to this the fact that they’re all concerned about oil prices creeping up in recent months. The incentive to stay out of the affair becomes very lucrative. While none of our friends outright said yes, it was quite clear that the offer was well received by the majority of the major players.”

  Everyone in the room soaked in this information.

  Dodd returned to his seat. “And they can do it with a clear conscience by continuing their support of U.S. forces involved in ‘justifiable’ military actions, such as Operation Enduring Freedom.”

  Newman’s eyes bored into Dodd. “Director, is it your opinion, based on information at hand, that Iraq will attack Kuwait?”

  Dodd shook his head slowly. “I can’t say that with any degree of certainty, but when you put it all together, that’s my assessment. Add it up.” Dodd held up a hand and began counting off the indicators. “The military movements. The behind-the-scenes calls to our allies. The lack of support from ‘friendly’ Arab states. Now throw in the wild card—religious fervor. Yes, gentlemen, on top of everything else, the Middle East is starting to get another taste of that old-time religion—Islamic fundamentalist style.”

  Silence descended on the assemblage as the advisors considered the ramifications of Dodd’s statements.

  The president stood. “Thank you, Chris.” Turning to his military advisors, Drake addressed the secretary of defense. “Ron, let’s start taking a look at worst-case scenarios. What’s the composition of the Iraqi force north of the Kuwaiti border?”

  “Mr. President,” answered Newman, “the force is a Republican Guard armored division, the Tawakalna. This division is part of their Southern Corps, headquartered out of Al Fatthul Mubean Command Center. It was part of this same Tawakalna Division that the Second Armored Cav duked it out with at Seventy-three Easting during the Gulf War’s most serious ground fighting.”

  Dodd interrupted. “They’re at full strength?”

  Newman nodded. “The Iraqis lost a lot of their ground forces during Desert Storm, including half of their tanks. Since the embargoes lifted last year, however, they’ve pulled out all the stops where rebuilding and modernization are concerned. The Republican Guard units, unlike their Regular Army counterparts, are all at full strength. It was three of their divisions that accomplished the seizure of Kuwait in four and a half hours in August of 1990. Additionally, the Guard gets the best and latest equipment.”

  Drake chewed on that information for a minute, then turned to Dodd. “What information do we have on their other troop movements?”

  Dodd looked uncomfortable. “Mr. President, keyhole satellite imagery indicates two other Republican Guard divisions, the Madinah and the Hamourabi, are currently conducting higher than normal maintenance operations at their command centers. These are the other two divisions of the Southern Corps. Their activity indicates that they’re moving somewhere—and soon.”

  The president began to pace once again, but this time his head was tucked down. His former students would tell you that this indicated Drake was looking for answers. “How does this compare to our forces currently on the ground in Kuwait?” asked the president.

  The secretary of defense answered without referring to his notes. “Sir, we look good for now. It’s about three to one in favor of the bad guys, but we have better equipment—and better soldiers. Those numbers don’t include the Kuwaiti forces. The Kuwaitis are armed with M1A2 tanks, which is a definite plus for our side.”

  The president ceased pacing and looked up. “They’ve got a newer version of our tank than our own troops in the theater?” he asked incredulously.

  “Sir, if I may .
. . ?” said General Werner.

  The president nodded. “Go ahead, General.”

  “Sir, the Kuwaiti M1A2s—the export version of our newest tank—have some fire-control features that are superior to those of the M1A1s our troops are manning. They also have a few other upgrades that are improvements on the design of the M1A1. The Kuwaiti M1A2s, however, don’t have the same armor protection as the A1s—i.e., they die easier.”

  Drake nodded and looked at Newman, satisfied for the moment. “Aircraft and ships in the area?”

  “About twenty-seven warships and two hundred aircraft in the Gulf, sir. The aircraft numbers could change if our allies continue the cold shoulder treatment and pull the welcome mat out from under our airbases in the region. We can count on the navy carrier group currently in the Gulf for about fifty fighters and bombers. If push comes to shove, we’ve got another group that’s currently on patrol. It can be on station within five days.” Newman took off his reading glasses and looked directly into the president’s eyes. “I would suggest, sir, that we start moving that carrier group toward the Gulf—any time now.”

  Drake nodded. “Do it. This is probably a good time to discuss my conversation with the British prime minister. They don’t like the smell of this business any more than we do and are sending in a carrier group of their own. He assures me it will arrive on station to support our operations in a week.”

  Newman was clearly pleased as he jotted a note regarding the British warships. Every little bit helped.