“They have been dealt with,” Pusko said. “They were crowds of only about one hundred or so and the troops were able to round them up before they got too active. They are being held in the Lubkaya Prison for now. We can decide on their fate when our operations are over,” said Pusko.
“Good. I don’t have time for protesters. They will think better once the power comes back on. It has already taken too long, but that is not a priority for now. I am assured things will be back up in a week or two,” Borodin said. The electricity had already been off for a month in the dead of the Russian winter. “Just keep an eye on Morchenko. He had better get results quickly or we may have to make additional changes,” he said as they exited the grand hall.
The day before Christmas dawned cold and miserable. Many of the older families had been able to resurrect old wood and coal burning stoves they had from many years past. As many of the older residents remembered, during the Stalin era, this was the only source of heat many ever knew. Families sat huddled in a single room around the old stoves bundled in all the clothing they could carry. Some of the older men chuckled that they had it far better than the people in the cities. None of them had these kinds of stoves.
The austerity measures imposed upon them by the government were indeed, like the old Soviet days. Meats, cheese, canned goods, bread, all were severely rationed. Fuel for automobiles was not available. The only house in the village with lights was the government building, which had a generator to run the center as well as the phone service. Many in the town grumbled that while the people froze, the government officials still sat in shirt sleeves and watched television. The only benefit had been that the mayor of the town allowed the people to charge their cell phones in an outdoor kiosk each day. After the fall of the old Soviet government, the cell phone had become a staple in most people’s lives. The mayor found that with those, at least the grumbling fell mostly silent.
Despite the fact that there was no electricity across Russia, the mail service continued on. Yevgeny Kolchin got in his official vehicle and began making his rounds. Kolchin was the friend of nearly everyone in the town and today he was dreading his job. It wasn’t most of the mail, but specific pieces. There were over three hundred people in the small village, and there were fifty of the letters. He had seen them before. They were all in much finer envelopes than the normal mails. All were from the Military Headquarters in Moscow. Unless he was mistaken, they announced the death of someone in each family. One by one, he made the deliveries. They all knew something was wrong when he came to the door. His normally cheerful face was glum and somber. He made sure to hand this envelope to them separate from the others.
Some cried, some fought back the tears. The worst was with the Namirov family. They received three — one for each of the three sons the mother had borne. By the time he made the final delivery, he almost swore he could hear the whole town weeping from the streets. Only after the last delivery did he break down himself. His beloved Vednoye had sent fifty one young men to the services. He had delivered fifty letters. He sat down on the fender of his truck and wept openly.
“Admiral, there’s a Colonel Sanders and Master Sergeant Ricks to see you,” announced an aide.
Hammond was sitting behind his desk going over a mound of reports and requests that he had to weed through each day. It was the worst part of his job and he often longed for the day when he could go back to sea and leave the command to someone else. The second worst job was the train of people wishing to seek an “audience” with the Supreme Commander about some something or another. It was endless. At least this was a welcome visit. “Send them in,” he said as he looked up from his desk. Sanders he hadn’t met before, but Ricks was a sight for sore eyes. He quickly got up and came around his desk to meet them.
The two men came in and saluted stiffly. Sanders extended his hand. “Colonel Harland Sanders. Good to meet you Admiral,” he said. “I believe you two have met.”
Hammond slapped Ricks on the arm. “Good to see you again Master Sergeant,” he said with a grin.
“Same here Admiral. When the Colonel said he was coming over, I couldn’t pass up the chance. How’s the family?” asked Ricks
“Just fine. Tough being away, but I’ll manage. What’s this I hear that you and Su Lynn are expecting again?” Hammond asked.
Ricks was beaming. “Yep. We just found out a couple weeks before this all started. She’s fine and the boys are doing well. One of these days we will need to get the families together so the boys can get acquainted.”
“That would be nice. Now what brings you two over here from Poland?” asked Hammond.
“Sir, the enemy is changing a few things and we need your permission to change along with them,” said Sanders.
Hammond sat back down and leaned back in his chair. “Alright, shoot.”
“Admiral, up until just a few days ago we were tearing them up. Every night we could go in and find all kinds of targets, but I think they are wising up on us,” said Ricks. “We have noticed that now the tankers are sleeping in their tanks. They don’t get out even to go to the bathroom. The rest of the ground troops are covering their positions so that we aren’t getting a good infra-red image. The rear positions are now over five miles from the front. They are bringing meals up to the tankers during the day, and we might get some there, but it looks like they are taking all kinds of precautions against us getting in a good shot. We want to make some changes,” Ricks said firmly.
“What kinds of changes?” asked Hammond.
Ricks grinned. “You’re gonna like it,” he said. “I want to modify some of the drones. We take off that plastic pistol and replace it with this,” he said while producing a small Styrofoam mount with four screws. “With this, we can let the solenoid that pulls the trigger instead pull the pin on a grenade. The spring pops the grenade out of the holder and it falls directly into a position. You see, we can dimly make out some of the foxholes those guys have dug into. I can’t see the person, but the position gives off a faint change in color. I fly over and position the drone right over the hole and just drop it. There’s a good chance the grenade will land on top of whatever covering they have and just go off. Ought to scare the hell out of them. We also noticed that the tanks are left running for the heat. In a lot of cases, they leave the top hatch open for some ventilation. Same idea. We drop the grenade right down the hole. We get the same results, a lot of dead enemy, but we only make one trip. It will mean we can’t hit as many targets, but we might just kill a few more of them,” Ricks said with a knowing look.
“You agree, Colonel?”
“Yes, sir. They might think they are getting away with something, but we have a few tricks up our sleeves. This grenade thing is the first, but I am also looking into dispersing some small mines the same way. There’s one that we can drop and even if they try and move it, the slightest movement will set the damn thing off. My armorer says it might just be enough to take the track off one of their tanks. They usually try to move out just before dawn. If we drop a bunch around each tank, they won’t go far. We can even get some of the people trying to bring in the food. That will mean that their only option is to change out tanks and crews during the day by rotating the tanks every couple of days for refueling and refit. That costs time, people and fuel,” said Sanders.
“What about our people when we go through the area? They will be stepping on these same mines,” said Hammond with concern.
“Not a problem, Admiral. These things can be set to go inert or just explode at a predetermined time. We drop them, wait till their tanks move over them or until about mid-morning then they either all go off or go inert, then we move in. We can rotate positions and times to keep them guessing and to coordinate our own attacks. We’ll know where they are. There will be a busted tank or a bunch of dead guys,” said Ricks.