THE TEN THOUSAND

by Harold Coyle

  After taking one last look at the German Army officer now standing in front of them, and then back at Maier, the airman took a step back. At 2:45 in the morning, the last thing that the airman on guard wanted to do was to rouse Lowery's anger. Rather than press the matter, the sentinel brought his weapon up into the proper position for saluting when under arms and told both German colonels that they could pass. Haas, sensing that there had been a bit of trouble, gave the American airman a casual salute and followed Maier, saying nothing as he went.

  Once in the corridor leading to the command booth, Maier told Haas in German of the call from Berlin and repeated General Gorb's skimpy instructions. Then he stopped, when he saw no one was in the corridor. When Haas also stopped and faced him, Maier blurted, "What in heaven's name is all of this about? How in the devil did you get onto this base and are you—"

  Haas, his face frozen like a mask, cut Maier short. Not only was there an urgent need to get on with this, but Haas held all aviators, regardless of rank or branch of service, in contempt. They were, to him, a combat commander who was expected to perform anywhere, anytime, under any conditions, overpaid and underworked prima donnas. "You are to take me to General Lowery immediately and introduce me as the commander of the 26th Parachute Brigade. When I speak, you will translate everything I say, word for word and without the slightest hesitation. Is that clear, Colonel?"

  Maier felt himself flush with anger at Haas's demeanor and tone. Haas saw this but did not relent. "Colonel, I am sure that your superiors informed you that you were to do exactly what I tell you and that we had little time. Now, either you take me to Lowery without any further delays, or I will find him myself."

  There was no trace of apology, no sign that Haas had any intention of telling him anything. Instead, all Maier saw was a harsh face, a face as harsh as the man's words and manner. Without another word, Maier started toward the command booth, then Haas spoke. "And remember, you will translate everything without any modification. If you don't, I will know. I am fluent in English."

  Maier let that matter drop. There were, after all, many German officers who resented the old regulation that had required all senior officers to learn English in order to work with their American allies even though it was the Americans who had come to Germany. Haas's refusal to speak English, Maier thought, was either a matter of pride or, more than likely, was to show that this action was being done in the name of the German nation and, as such, should be presented in German, even if it was just a formality. Resigned to the fact that he would not learn what this was all about until Haas was in the presence of the American general, Maier continued down the corridor with Haas following.

  Lowery was shaken out of his gloomy thoughts by the sound of boots coming up behind him and his operations officer shouting Maier's name. Pushing himself off of the wall to his front with one foot, he swung his seat around, stopping just as Maier and Haas reached him. Behind them, he could see that his operations officer had left his desk and was headed over to join them.

  For a moment no one said anything as Lowery looked the German parachute officer over. His ruddy face and the muddy snow on his boots melting into a puddle at his feet told Lowery that this man had just come in from the outside. Except for the maroon beret the German Army colonel wore pulled down low on his forehead, everything from the stern expression to the submachine gun slung over his right shoulder and partially hidden under his right arm told Lowery that he was ready for battle. He was about to ask what this was all about when Maier, without looking into Lowery's eyes, barked an introduction. "General Lowery, this is Colonel Johann Haas, commanding officer of the 26th Parachute Brigade. I have been ordered to present him to you and translate."

  From behind Maier and Haas, the operations officer yelled, "Now just hold it here a minute. Just hold everything a cotton-pickin' minute. Colonel Maier, what in the hell do you mean bringing this—"

  Looking down at Lowery, Haas fixed his gaze on Lowery's upturned eyes. In a voice that was firm and told Lowery that he was not to be trifled with, Haas began to speak German in a rather slow and deliberate manner. Lowery, whose German barely enabled him to order a beer and Wiener schnitzel on his own, glanced over to Maier as he waited for the translation. From the expression on Maier's face, now growing visibly pale and taut, what Haas had to say really bothered Maier. When Haas was finished, rather than translate, Maier turned his head to face Haas. Haas, who had been looking at Lowery, returned Maier's stare when he did not hear him translating. The look that he gave Maier was cold, uncompromising, and angry. Finally, Maier drew a deep breath, looked down at Lowery, and with a great effort began to speak.

  "General Lowery, in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, Colonel Haas requests that you immediately order your security personnel guarding the nuclear weapons under your control to stand down and return to their barracks."

  Only the muted conversations of junior staff officers in the operations room below could be heard in the stunned silence that followed Maier's translation. No one moved, no one spoke as all the colonels on Lowery's staff looked first at Haas, then at Lowery. Finally overcoming his own shock, Lowery slowly stood up in front of Haas. When his entire six-foot-five frame was erect, he looked down at Haas. "On whose authority are you making this demand?"

  Haas, looking up at the American general, didn't wait for Maier to translate from English to German before he responded. Finished, Haas glared at Lowery while Maier, having ceased all conscious thought, mechanically translated. "I have been ordered by Chancellor Johann Ruff to seize the nuclear weapons that your government has brought into my-country in violation of the Berlin Accord signed by both your government and mine."

  That Maier didn't translate Lowery's question before Haas responded did not escape the general's notice. This colonel, Lowery thought to himself, was being very formal and very hard-nosed about this. It was, Lowery thought, as if Haas felt it was beneath his dignity as a representative of the German government to lower himself to speaking English. Well, Lowery thought, two can play hard-ass. "I hope, Colonel, you realize that I don't have the authority to turn the weapons over to you or anyone else. Nor am I in a position to open negotiations concerning their control. This is a matter that must be taken up between our governments through the proper channels."

  Without a pause, Haas responded and Maier translated. "You do not seem to understand, General. I am not here to negotiate. Nor am I here to ask you to turn those weapons over. I am merely asking you to have your people step aside and relinquish control over something that I am prepared to take by force of arms."

  Lowery was about to shout that Haas wouldn't dare, but then thought better. This was simply not the kind of thing that the Germans would try to bluff their way through. If Haas was standing there defiantly, then he had to be in a position to fulfill his threat.

  Lowery was still pondering how best to respond when the operations officer pushed his way between Maier and Haas. "Just who in the hell do you think you are, mister, coming in here and making that kind of demand? Who do you think you're dealing with? Your people, if they're out there, will be cut to ribbons if they even think about stepping foot on this base."

  Haas stomped his boots, shaking off more mud and snow onto the floor, then gave the operations officer a knowing smile before he answered. Maier, now behind the operations officer, translated over the officer's shoulder. "Colonel Haas asks me to point out that he, like his men, had absolutely no problem making their way onto this base." Then, turning back to Lowery, the smile gone from his face, Haas looked at his watch before he spoke.

  Lowery listened as Maier, now calmer, carefully provided his translation. "You have, General, less than ten minutes in which to make your decision. After that, my men, already in their assault positions in and around the hangars, without the need for any further orders from me, will wipe out your entire guard and the reaction force. Even if you were to alert your people now to the danger, there is nothing that they could do to chan
ge their fates. We are, as you would say, locked, loaded, and on automatic pilot."

  Looking down at the puddle of mud and water on the floor and then into Haas's eyes, Lowery's heart began to sink. Suddenly, the image of the hangars and their contents flashed before his eyes. This was immediately followed by the vision of the rows and rows of coffins in Da Nang. Without realizing it, Lowery let out a soft moan as he let his six-foot-five frame sink back down into the chair behind him. No, he thought, he couldn't let that happen. There was simply no way that he could allow young airmen, his young airmen, to die for nothing. Looking up at the German parachute colonel, he knew he was beaten, for General Earl Lowery didn't have it in him to make the kind of command decision that would in effect be the death warrant for an untold number of soldiers and airmen.

  Spinning about to face his desk, Lowery grabbed the phone, then paused. "What's Harrison's number?" General Bret Harrison, U.S. Army and commander-in-chief, United States Europe Command, was Lowery's immediate commander for this operation.

  Without needing to look, Lowery's aide rattled off the phone number.

  Punching in the numbers, Lowery looked down at the phone while he was waiting for it to be answered on the other end, knowing that every eye in the room was riveted on his back. When the phone was picked up, an operations duty officer at Harrison's headquarters identified himself. Wanting to get the duty officer's attention and cut straight through to Harrison without long-winded explanations, Lowery used the code word reserved for the loss of aircraft bearing nuclear weapons. "This is General Lowery at Sembach. Inform General Harrison we have a Broken Arrow and I must speak to him immediately."

  Without hesitation the duty officer said, "Yes, sir," and transferred the call to Harrison's quarters. Roused from a fitful sleep, Harrison's response was groggy and gruff. "Harrison."

  Despite the fact that time was pressing and he felt the urge to blurt everything out, Lowery knew Harrison's mind would be clouded by sleep and would need a few seconds to comprehend what he had to tell him. Therefore, when Lowery spoke, he did so slowly and deliberately. "This is Lowery at Sembach. I have just been informed by the commander of a German parachute brigade that his brigade is deployed in and around Sembach with orders to seize the nuclear weapons here at Sembach, by force if necessary."

  Harrison, wide awake now, shot back, "Did he say who gave him those orders?"

  Lowery, hunched down over the phone, shook his head. "He claims to be acting on behalf of the German Chancellor."

  "Have you been able to check this out?"

  Shaking his head, even though Harrison couldn't possibly see this, Lowery responded as he looked at his watch. "There isn't time, General. The German colonel here claims that his assault units are in position and ready to strike within the next five minutes."

  From behind, Haas corrected Lowery using perfect English. "Three minutes, Herr General."

  Spinning in his seat, Lowery shot Haas a look that could have killed. "Three minutes, sir. We have three minutes."

  "Jesus Christ, man, is he serious?"

  Lowery, still facing Haas, glanced down at the manner in which Haas cradled his automatic weapon. "I do not believe, General Harrison, that this officer is bluffing." Then, Lowery asked the question that Harrison was expecting. "What, General, are your orders?"

  With less than three minutes to go Harrison knew there was no time for consultation with anyone, not even his own staff. In a heartbeat he knew he had three choices. He could tell Lowery to stand fast and call the German's bluff. If it was a bluff, nothing would happen. If it wasn't a bluff, then Harrison would be responsible for unleashing a chain of events that neither he nor Lowery would be able to control. Not knowing exactly what and who was involved, this would be a blind crapshoot of the worst kind. Though he could have justified making such a call, Harrison had no way of knowing what forces such a bloodletting would unleash.

  The second choice would be to tell Lowery to stand his guard force down, let the Germans have the weapons, and allow the diplomats in Washington and Berlin to sort this out through negotiation. Though the thought of turning nuclear weapons over to a foreign power without firing a shot was against everything American commanders had been taught, Harrison tempered this position by reminding himself that these were Germans. Given the fact that the Germans were an ally, and there had been arrangements in the past to issue German nuclear-capable forces nuclear devices under certain conditions, Harrison could see little danger here. The Germans, after all, were a civilized and friendly power.

  The final choice was to leave the choice up to Lowery. This, Harrison knew, was both an acceptable one but one that was a cop-out. Lowery was Military Airlift Command, a transporter. Operational decisions of this magnitude were not normally his to make. Harrison, on the other hand, had always prided himself on his ability to make swift and decisive decisions. As a combat commander, trained to think fast and react, decision making was second nature to him. In the past, his decisions had been good ones. Now, faced with perhaps the greatest single one, Harrison reacted in the only manner in which he could.

  There was, he suddenly realized, no choice at all. "Lowery, you are the senior commander on the spot. You must use your judgment and do what is best. I recommend that you pull your guard force back and do not resist the Germans. Try to keep them from removing the weapons from Sembach, but not by force of arms."

  Troubled by Harrison's comment "I recommend," Lowery's response was cautious. "Sir, am I to interpret this as an order?"

  Angered as much by his own attempt to pawn off the final decision to Lowery as by Lowery's question, Harrison shot back, "Yes, General Lowery, that is an order. Turn the weapons over to the Germans now."

  Taking three deep breaths in an effort to compose himself, Lowery replaced the receiver and turned to his aide seated at a desk behind him. "Jim, get me Major Harkins on the phone immediately." Then, turning to Haas, Lowery informed the German of the decision. "I am ordering my guard force and ready reaction force to stand down. Please order your men to hold their fire."

  Though pleased, Haas hid his relief that force had not been necessary. Looking over to Maier, Haas called out in English, "Dial 026 on your telephone, Colonel Maier. A Major Kessel will answer. Tell him Case White is in effect." Turning back to Lowery, Haas saw the look of bewilderment in his eyes. While Maier complied, Haas explained. "We have, General, tapped into your base phone system. I thought it would make it much easier to run this operation." What Haas didn't tell Lowery was that the five-minute limit had been a bluff. Major Kessel and the assault force were under strict orders to hold their positions until either Haas ordered them to move or they heard shooting or a commotion coming from the base command and control bunker.

  Captain James Wilks, the aide-de-camp to Lowery, automatically picked up the receiver of the phone in front of him and began to punch up the number for Major Harkins, the commander of the security forces on Sembach, then stopped. Looking up at Lowery, then at Haas, Wilks thought about what he was about to do. It suddenly dawned upon him that his boss, a man that he greatly admired and whom he had looked to as a means of furthering his own career, was about to surrender over one hundred nuclear weapons to a foreign power. Without so much as a show of resistance, Wilks thought, Harrison and Lowery were prepared to violate one of the most basic principles that the United States Air Force had operated under since becoming a nuclear power, which was to safeguard those weapons at all costs. That, coupled with the thought that such a move would make Germany, the nation that had started two world wars in pursuit of world domination and had murdered over twelve million men, women, and children in concentration camps, a nuclear power, seemed too much to accept.

  Though he suspected, like everyone else in the command booth, that resistance would probably be pointless, the idea of simply throwing his hands up and doing nothing to stop the Germans was unthinkable. Such a decision, he believed, should not be made by Harrison or Lowery, regardless of how many stars they
had. Slowly Wilks replaced the receiver on its cradle and stood up.

  Dumbfounded, Lowery looked at Wilks for a second before he realized what Wilks was doing. Recovering from the shock of his aide's insubordination, Lowery repeated his order. "Captain Wilks, I am ordering you to call Major Harkins now."

  Wilks said nothing. Instead, he simply stepped back away from his desk and assumed a rigid position of attention. Even when Haas reached for his automatic weapon and trained it on him, the young aide stood his ground.

  Incensed at his aide's insubordination, pushed to the breaking point by the tension of the moment, and galvanized by Haas's hostile reaction, Lowery jumped to his feet and began to yell. "Damn you, Captain. Damn you to hell. I gave you an order." Still Wilks did nothing.

  Below the command booth, several of the officers in the rear rows of the operations center, hearing Lowery's muffled shouts reverberate through the thick glass window of the command booth, turned to see what had gotten their commander so upset. Unaware of what was going on, they watched wide-eyed as Lowery lunged across the command booth and bodily pushed Wilks out of his way with one hand while grabbing a phone with his other. After punching up a number and while he waited for the person on the other end of the line, the staff officers in the operations center could see Lowery glaring at Wilks, still standing at attention, and clearly hear Lowery yelling at him, over and over, "Damn you, Captain. Damn you to hell."

  * * *

  Charley Mordal didn't even give Jan a chance to say hello before he blurted out, "Jan, you were right! You were the only one who saw it coining."

  Though she was used to being called like this in the middle of the night at her Gaithersburg, Maryland, home, Jan's reactions were far from automatic. Where her husband, Scott, could jump out of bed and be fully alert before his feet hit the floor, Jan's mind needed time to come to life. Still not fully awake and having no idea what Mordal was talking about, Jan blinked her eyes a few times, looked at her alarm clock, and yawned before responding. "Of course I was right, Charley." Then after thinking for a second, she added, "Exactly what was I right about this time?"