Greetings

[Porpoise]

Part 10, I can neither confirm nor deny the type of action Vos has in store for her.

Day Two



The morning briefing the following day went much the way of the first. One of the principles of war is the concept of 'unity of command' and we still did not have it while the parliaments of NATOs member nations argued over how their armed forces would be employed. France and Italy were still refusing to aid in the defense of their NATO allies, although Canada had chopped their forces once the Canadian Mechanised Group had been bombarded with missiles in North Germany.

The Folketing, the Danish Parliament had debated through the night whether to mobilise and transfer control of their military to NATO. There was no such thing as a majority in Danish Parliament so debates could rage for days without consensus and there was no sign a decision would be made soon.

Norway had transferred its regular forces but still had not called up its reserves. The northern border with the Soviet Union was tense but stagnant, both sides facing off against each other in the snow and unwilling to make a move. Further south, though, the Soviets had launched a broad assault along the Finnish border. We kept a close eye on the situation but could do nothing to help Finland. The Swedes, meanwhile had mobilised their entire armed forces and were patrolling their borders aggressive. The Swedish Defence Ministry stayed in constant contact with us to prevent our forces bumping into theirs.

Throughout Europe NATO and Soviet air forces continued to struggle for control of the air. The major problem that both sides faced was being shot down by air defences like SAMs, which were sophisticated, powerful, numerous and did not seem to care whether they shot down friend or foe. Any aircraft flying above 1000 feet was as like to be shot down by a missile from its own side as the enemy's.

Despite the best efforts of NATO naval forces the location of the Soviet Baltic Fleet was still unknown, although muddled reports flowed in throughout the morning. On the ground in Northern Germany things were going badly. Russian forces had surrounded Hamburg during the night and kept going, racing for the Kiel Canal or the North Sea. The West German 6th Panzergrenadier Division was desperately trying to beat them to it.

As a contrast, here in Norway not much was happening at all. Throughout the briefing Holst tutted and glared at me as if I was personally responsible for situation. The burning hatred I felt for him at that time threatened to impair my ability to do my job effectively.

In terms of directing forces there was little need for us to interfere with our subordinate commands. BALTAP were busy manouvering before the advancing Soviet Tank Divisions in Northern Germany, NON were digging in near the Arctic Circle with Russian troops doing the same across the border from them and SONOR were shuffling garrison forces around to defend against a possible parachute assault. What we were required to do at that stage of the war was coordinate movements and resources between commands, making sure the orders to neighbouring units matched in space and time so everyone had enough bullets, beans and toilet paper and did not all go charging up the same hill at once. It was tedious, meticulous, time consuming and tiring work. I don't remember seeing Holst at all after the briefing that first day until the late afternoon when I was called to the office of the Chief of Staff, the acting Commander in Chief of Allied Forces North, Viseadmiral Fuchs.

The Chief of Staff had rarely used his office since hostilities commenced, so when I got the call to report there I knew it couldn't be good news. I suspected I would feel the imprint of someone's boot on my butt pretty soon. When I saw that Fuchs, Holst and Olsen were already waiting for me my suspicions were confirmed. Fuchs was seated behind his desk looking like a friendly old uncle as his adjutant ushered me in with Major Olsen seated in front of him and Holst seated off to one side.

"Major Andrews," said Admiral Fuchs, rising and gesturing to the chair beside Olsen, "please take a seat. Of course, you know Major Olsen."
"Yes," I replied taking my seat, "he's my operations planner."
"My operations planner," said Holst abruptly. His expression had gone from neutral to ready to explode. I couldn't help but notice his tie was unravelling.
"The operations planner for Allied Forces North," said Fuchs calmly, "but that is about to change. We need to make a reorganisation."
"I understand, Admiral," I said. And I did understand. This was how Holst intended to give me the shaft.
"I've discussed the problem with General Holst and we've agreed to reorganise the operations section. Major Olsen is more senior to you, yes?"
I nodded.
"Then," continued Fuchs, "we cannot have you leading the operations section with Major Olsen subordinate to you. For that reason we've decided that you must exchange duties."
"That makes sense, sir, but why now? Why not when Colonel Hagen left?"
Fuchs traded a glance with Holst.
"Olsen will do a better job than you," blurted Holst.
"Bertram..." said Admiral Fuchs, lowering his eyes. There was an awkward silence.
"It's fine, Admiral," I said, "Major Olsen is very capable and I'm sure he will do a fine job."
"I'm glad you agree, Major Andrews. So it's decided, Major Olsen will assume the duties of the J-3 and you will assume his former role as operations planner. Now, let's discuss future operations."
"We need to reinforce the West Germans," said Holst.
"How do you intend to do that?" I asked.
"We will move the Jutland Division south to help defend the Kiel Canal."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Admiral," I said.
"No one asked your opinion," said Holst sharply.
"Go on, Andrews," said Fuchs. I focussed my attention on the Admiral rather than Holst.
"Firstly," I said, "the Jutland Division isn't under our control yet..."
"The Jutland Division will be available shortly," interrupted Holst.
"Secondly," I continued, "it's too risky..."
"This is war," Holst said, "risk is intrinsic to everything we do."
"It's too risky because we don't know where the Soviet naval infantry is..."
"Major Andrews knows full well satellite imagery has confirmed that the 336th naval infantry has not left the Baltiysk kaserne." Holst no longer spoke to me but directed his comments to Admiral Fuchs who was forced into the role of referee in a tennis match. Olsen hadn't uttered a word since I'd entered the room.
"Admiral," I said, "I believe the vehicles photographed in Kaliningrad are decoys and that an amphibious invasion somewhere along the coast of Denmark is imminent, probably north of the Kiel Canal."
"What evidence do you have," Fuchs asked.
"I have none," I said, "but if I'm correct the 6th West German division and any other forces we send to reinforce them will be cut off from the north and south."
"It's too late," said Holst, "the warning orders have already been issued."
The Admiral stared at me for a long while before turning back to Holst.
"Well Bertram," said Fuchs, "I hope you are correct."

I took a short break for a meal before returning to the operations section. The land operations section occupied a line of desks, each member of the team occupying a desk dedicated to a position within the section, with the J-3 in the center. My papers had been shuffled down the row to Olsen's former desk while Olsen had resumed my position in the middle of the action. To his credit he didn't gloat or make it obvious he had leapfrogged me, nor did the rest of the team act as if anything had happen, although Vos did give me a quick, sad look that might have made me angry if she had not looked so beautiful. She felt pity for me, which made me feel even worse. I smiled back at her, even though I felt as if I was stuck at the bottom of a deep hole. I never asked for the damn job, I had never wanted it, but now that it had been taken away from me in such a devious manner I felt as if I had been cheated out of something I had earned. At least now the blow torch would be pointed at someone else's feet.