THE TEN THOUSAND

by Harold Coyle

  With the immediate threat removed and casualties from the first day's fight tended to, Kozak turned to reorganizing and resting her company, while at the same time maintaining her command at a high state of vigilance. For the infantry and engineer platoons, this was no problem. Though the infantry platoons, as is traditional, suffered the majority of the casualties, their morale was high and they remained motivated and ready. This, however, was not the case with the tank platoon. Though it did play a pivotal role in the final defeat of the Ukrainian assault river crossing, the poor performance of their platoon leader, and the loss of one of their own to friendly fire, left a pall hanging over the entire unit.

  Kozak did little to dispel this. Had it been a training exercise, she would have been able to shrug off Lieutenant Ellerbee's errors, just as she had done with other new lieutenants. But Kozak had lost her objectivity. Her own brush with death during the fight along the Latorica River, coupled with the accidental death of Ellerbee's gunner to friendly fire, a death that she viewed as both tragic and avoidable, had destroyed her ability to view Ellerbee in the detached and professional manner that she knew she should. As hard as she tried to reason with herself, Kozak continued to discover that she was, after all, very human. Though her mind told her that such errors and transgressions were unavoidable in the heat of battle, she found that she could not forgive Ellerbee for the very real professional shortfalls that had almost cost her and her crew their lives, and what she perceived as a poor attitude.

  Having determined that she would never be able to fully accept Ellerbee as a responsible combat leader, Kozak did little to hide the contempt in which she held him. It showed in the manner in which she ignored him and the disdain in her voice when she spoke of him. When Kozak called for a meeting of all platoon leaders the night after the battle, she made it a point that she wanted Ellerbee's platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Rourk, to accompany him to the meeting. When, after the meeting, Rourk asked to see Kozak alone, pointing out that it was foolish for both him and Ellerbee to come to her meetings, Kozak didn't bat an eye. She simply looked straight at Rourk and told him, "Yes, you have a point. In the future leave him behind."

  Kozak's efforts to remove Ellerbee or his platoon were frustrated by the brigade commander. His order that Ellerbee and his platoon stay where they were until he had an opportunity to personally review the situation pleased neither Kozak nor Ellerbee. When she went to Lieutenant Colonel Rick Zacharzuk, her battalion commander, to request that he request that the brigade commander reconsider his decision, Zacharzuk, nicknamed Ricky Z, refused to bring the matter up to Dixon. "Things are getting a little hairy right now, especially with this German thing," he told Kozak. "Though I agree with you, I'm afraid the brigade commander has one hell of a lot on his mind. Until we're out of Ukrainian territory and the situation in Germany is clarified, I have no intention of bothering him with this." Then, noticing that Kozak's shoulders physically slumped when he told her that, Ricky Z tried to soften the blow. "Look, Nancy. In another day we'll be back in an assembly area in Slovakia. Once we're there, I don't care if you surround Ellerbee and his tanks with barbed wire and post guards on them. I imagine we'll sit there while the powers that be sort out all the hard feelings between Berlin and Washington and all the little nukes are back in hand. Until then, you'll have to make the best of a bad situation."

  As if her dark thoughts had conjured them up out of the river, Kozak heard Ellerbee's tanks rumble across the bridge and begin to close on the spot where her Bradley sat. Though she knew she was being petty and unprofessional, Kozak couldn't hide the feeling of disdain she felt every time she thought about Ellerbee. The mere image of the tanks passing her position, great black hulks against the dark overcast sky, caused Kozak's blood pressure to rise. Counting them in order to make sure that they were all clear of the bridge before she gave Lieutenant Matto permission to blow the bridge, only Ricky Z's promise to get Colonel Dixon to resolve the Ellerbee issue as soon as things settled down allowed Kozak to carry on in what she considered to be an intolerable situation.

  * * *

  Any regrets that still lingered in Scott Dixon's mind over his being pulled away from his brigade during the final stages of its withdrawal from the Ukraine were forgotten as his helicopter landed in the military compound at Milovice that had once served as the Soviet Army headquarters in Czechoslovakia. For there, just outside the circle marked in the well-packed snow that served as a helipad, stood his wife, Jan. Struggling against his natural desire to run up and grab her about the waist, Dixon deliberately lumbered on over to where she stood. With a smile on his face, Dixon walked up to her. "Hi, honey. I'm home. What's for dinner?"

  In no mood for Scotty's playful humor or small talk, Jan simply stepped up to him, pushed the hood of his parka back, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. For several seconds, during which Dixon reached around Jan and pulled her body against his, they stood there ignoring the stares of military personnel coming and going and the bitter cold wind that whipped past them. When their lips finally parted, Dixon looked at Jan's beaming face. "We'd better stop this and go in before we freeze in this position."

  Jan, her face aglow, sighed. "Would that, Colonel Scott Dixon, be so terrible?"

  Giving Jan a gentle squeeze that she hardly felt through the layers of winter clothing, Scott chuckled. "Well, I could think of worse fates. But," he continued with a disappointed sigh, "I doubt this is what Big Al had in mind when he ordered me to come here."

  Big Al was the nickname given to the Tenth Corps' five-foot, three-inch commanding general, who had been the division commander of the 16th Armored Division when Scott Dixon was the division's operations officer and Jan Fields was just living with him. An aviator by trade, Big Al Malin enjoyed Jan's charm, wit, and the attention she showered on him. When she finally married Dixon at Fort Hood, Big Al gave her away at the ceremony. This was a task he doubly enjoyed, since he cherished Scott Dixon's ability as an operations officer and as a thinker. Dixon, Big Al was fond of saying, was a true military artist who shared his love of military history.

  Holding each other close, Jan and Dixon slowly walked over to the building that was serving as the Tenth Corps' headquarters in the Czech Republic. "I was told less than five minutes ago that you were coming in straight from the Ukraine, Scotty. All Ed Lewis told me was that if I wanted to see you, I had better get out here ASAP."

  Surprised more by the mention of Lewis's name than her presence, Dixon slowed a little. "What, may I ask, is our friend from Congress doing here at this time of night? Don't tell me. Congress found some facts missing again and he was sent to find them."

  Jan slapped Dixon's behind. "Scott, get serious. The President asked him to go to Germany to lay the groundwork for negotiations between us and the Germans over the question of the nukes and the German demands that we pull out of Germany."

  Dixon chuckled. "Yeah, Herr Ruff really pulled a slicky one over on us." Then, holding Jan at arm's distance, he looked at her. "And I suppose you, of course, just happened to be in the neighborhood when the President asked Ed Lewis to come over here and you asked if you could tag along."

  Looking over at him, Jan smiled. "As a matter of fact, that's exactly what happened."

  A look of disbelief flashed across his face. "A likely story. I suppose you expect me to believe that."

  "You can believe what you like, Scott Dixon. But it happens to be the truth. Cross my heart and hope to die. Now, tell me, what are you doing here?"

  The appearance of two officers at the door they were headed for, both of whom Dixon recognized as being from the corps operations section, caused Dixon to stop. "I really don't know, Jan dear. But I've got a feeling we're about to find out."

  Giving her husband a final squeeze, Jan said nothing as the two officers came up to Dixon and asked him to follow them.

  While Jan took a seat in Big Al's outer office across from his aide-de-camp, Dixon was told to go on into the commanding general's off
ice. There he found Ed Lewis and the general, sitting in armchairs, deep in conversation. Pointing to a pot of coffee sitting on a side table, Big Al, without any show of ceremony or formality, told Dixon to grab a cup, pull a chair on over, and join them. As Dixon pulled his seat up next to Ed Lewis, he greeted Lewis with a slight nod. Lewis, on his part, forced a smile and returned his nod. He was tired, Dixon thought. But it was more than a simple lack of sleep. His whole face, his eyes and cheeks, seemed to be drooping, almost as if the hidden thoughts weighing heavy on his mind were dragging his face down. Noticing that Dixon was staring at Lewis, Big Al started. "The congressman, Scotty, has just come from two days of nonstop discussions with the German government in Berlin."

  Taking a sip of coffee, Dixon shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I've heard all kinds of rumors, but with operations still under way in the Ukraine, I haven't really been paying much attention to what's going on outside my brigade."

  "In a nutshell," Big Al started, "the Germans not only seized the weapons that the rangers took at the one storage site that didn't get trashed; they've been able, with the help of the Ukrainians, to remilitarize them. The Chancellor and his minions have informed the congressman here that they not only intend to keep them but are ready to use them if we, or anyone else, try to take them away."

  Somehow, Big Al's comment didn't surprise Dixon. The use of nuclear weapons held no special horror for Dixon. It was to him simply another weapon. Having spent most of his adult life in the study of how best to destroy his fellow man, the proper employment of nuclear weapons had always been part of the equation. So the mention of them didn't cause him any great alarm or apprehension. In fact, nothing that Big Al said really surprised Dixon. To his analytical mind, it all made sense. Germany had been for years posturing itself for a more central role in the leadership of the European community. The revolutions of 1989 and the fall of communism that had opened up Eastern Europe had, by a simple fact of geography, placed Germany in the pivotal role as the gateway to the East. All that Germany needed to achieve big-power status was the hardware, which, thanks to the United States, it now had.

  Looking over at Lewis's face, then back to Big Al, Dixon commented, only half in jest, "I take it this is the good news."

  Easing back into his seat and taking a sip of coffee, Big Al grunted. Like all senior officers, Big Al found that officers who could think clearly and speak their minds without being mesmerized by a general's stars or a radically new situation were a rarity. Scott Dixon was one of those officers, and Big Al used his talents and mind whenever he got the chance. "As always, Scotty, you're ahead of the game. It seems that our former friends and allies in Berlin, Chancellor Herr Ruff in particular, already have an agenda in mind that their newfound power will enable them to implement immediately."

  "And that, sir, is?"

  Big Al looked up at the ceiling. "Oh, nothing less than the complete withdrawal of all U.S. forces from the Federal Republic of Germany, beginning with the Tenth Corps."

  In an effort to make light of the situation, Dixon quipped, "Well, we'll be a little late for Christmas, but if he can pull that off, most of my people will vote for Ruff. Besides, some of Congressman Lewis's friends back in D.C. will be all for it. Less money for defense, more for social programs and all that great political rhetoric." Taking a sip of coffee, Dixon gave the appearance of absentmindedly mumbling a final snide comment. "Gee, now that I think of it, I wish I had voted for that guy-"

  Tired and still upset over his final meeting with Ruff, Lewis did not appreciate Dixon's attempt at humor, and his tone made that obvious to both Dixon and Big Al. "Colonel, the Germans, at gunpoint, forced their way onto an American military installation and seized nuclear weapons, weapons which, by the way, our nation has worked to control and limit."

  Undaunted, Dixon countered. "Of course, one could always look at the flip side of this issue. We did, without prior consent, move nuclear weapons back into Germany in clear violation of the Berlin Accord of two years ago that specifically prohibits the storage of nuclear weapons in or their movement through Germany. We, the main backer of a nuclear-free Central Europe, were the first to break the rules. Seems to me that if this went to a court of law, the Germans would have a strong case."

  Lewis replied sharply. "Unfortunately, Colonel, this matter isn't going to be resolved in a court of law. The Germans fully intend to force the United States into a showdown, one in which we either have to back away from or respond with force."

  Seeing that the discussion between Lewis and Dixon was beginning to get out of hand, Big Al decided it was time to get back to the reason for the meeting. "Gentlemen, all of this, I'm sure, will make a great story and debate back in Washington. But that is not our concern. Whether we're right or they're right is, for me, unimportant. What is important, Colonel Dixon, is that one of the conditions the Germans are insisting on is that this corps be disarmed prior to its withdrawal from Europe."

  Dixon looked at Big Al, then Lewis, and finally back to Big Al. "They, of course, are kidding, aren't they? I mean, even they understand that to do so would be tantamount to unconditional surrender, an insult to the Army and the entire nation."

  "I think," Lewis interjected, "that's the idea. Sort of a public emasculation. And if Ruff does it, he'll become a national hero, Germany's twenty-first-century Arminius."

  For a moment Dixon tried to place the name Arminius but couldn't. Big Al helped him out. "The Teutoburger Wald."

  In an instant Dixon understood. By the year a.d. 9 the Roman Empire had been trying for twenty years unsuccessfully to civilize the Germans east of the Rhine River. During their annual movement from their summer quarters on the Weser River near where modern Münden stands, to winter quarters, the three legions and six cohorts of Quinctilius Varus, the Roman governor of Germany, as well as Roman merchants, bureaucrats, family members and such were attacked by the German tribes. Arminius, a leader of the local German tribes and supposedly a friend of the Romans, led the Germans against the Romans. In a three-day running battle that took place in the then heavily forested Lippe Valley, the German tribes under Arminius wiped out 18,000 Roman soldiers and 12,000 Roman merchants and bureaucrats, leaving a mere hundred Romans to return to Rome to spread the story of German power. That battle not only halted the eastward expansion of the Roman Empire and began its downward spiral, it left Germany free to develop its own culture without the latinizing influence that so dominated other Western European cultures. Known simply as the Battle of Teutoburger Wald, it is held by many as the beginning of German history and nationalism, with the Germans regarding Arminius in the same manner as Americans do George Washington's role in the American Revolution.

  After thinking about the analogy for a moment, a now sober Dixon looked at Big Al. "He can't be serious, can he? I mean, even the Germans must realize that this is the twenty-first century."

  "They do, Colonel," Lewis took up. "Believe me, they do. Which is why instead of using the wicker shields and javelins Arminius's warriors used against the well-armed and disciplined Roman legionnaires, Chancellor Ruff intends to rely on nukes."

  "And the German public is going to buy this line and back him?"

  "Ruff seems to think they already have, Colonel. His election to office on a conservative Germany-for-Germans platform has been interpreted by many, including Ruff himself, as a mandate which he has taken seriously. That, coupled with our own diplomatic blunders in the past few days and his decisive actions have made him quite popular with conservatives in Germany, for the moment. You see," Lewis added, "unlike the Americans, who classify the last presidential election as ancient history, the Germans, like most Europeans, have a strong sense of history. We were reminded of this in the early nineties when tiny tribes with flags long forgotten by most people suddenly took advantage of the political upheavals in Central Europe and popped up all over the map of Central and Eastern Europe. This resurgence of tribal nationalism makes the analogy of Arminius more appealing to the German
s, a proud and homogeneous culture with a long history."

  "In short," Big Al added, "we're out here on a limb, and Herr Chancellor is hacking away at it like crazy."

  Dixon threw his hands out. Knowing that Big Al was using this as a skull session in which he wanted any and all ideas to be thrown out, discussed, and examined as they searched for a solution, Dixon took the lead. "Okay, fine. So we hunker on down here, enjoy a nice pleasant winter vacation in the Czech mountains while things cool down and the politicians settle down to some serious talks."

  Shaking his head, Lewis sighed. As the political consciousness of the group, Lewis responded. "I wish, Colonel, it was that easy. When I spoke to the President earlier this afternoon, she informed me that the Czech ambassador had already approached her and has, on behalf of his government, requested that the Tenth Corps leave his country immediately. The Germans, and apparently the Ukrainians, according to the CIA branch chief in Berlin, have already been at work. Seems they have been reminding the Czech and Slovak governments that Germany and Ukraine have borders with them that are considerably longer than their borders with the United States."

  Dixon thought about that for a moment before responding.

  "Well, nothing like strategic blackmail. What about the Poles? Will the Poles let us pass to the Baltic coast and home?"

  "That avenue," Lewis said, "is being explored, but it doesn't look promising. The Polish government is still miffed over the amount of aid that we have poured into Russia at their expense. Besides, not only have the Germans been working on them, but a withdrawal through Poland would be for the Germans a moral victory. I can see him now," Lewis continued, waving his hands about as if he were delivering a speech, "standing on a podium, the new little Hitler, proclaiming to the whole world how the vaunted American war machine had slithered away behind the benevolent protection of the Polish Army rather than face certain defeat at the hands of a unified German Army."