“My apologies, Sir. I presented what I knew. I left something out and I was going to explore it more when time permitted.”
“Go on.”
“I have not seen one report of assault bridging engineer works in combat, and yet the Soviets are trained for it, and most certainly are renowned for it. It struck me as odd at the time, Sir.”
Eisenhower exchanged looks with both his Colonels, looks that carried both questions and answers.
‘Bingo.’
“I have a feeling you may just have found what we needed, Anne-Marie. A very big well done.”
Pausing to get his thoughts in order Ike took the plunge.
“I want copies of the paperwork compiled and sent out to every senior commander immediately. I want them to know what to look for and what to go after, clear?”
He got the nods he needed.
“Furthermore, I want Air to recon this possibility as a priority, and to produce a plan to knock down as much of their bridging infrastructure as possible if it’s correct. When we have done here, Thomas, ask Arthur Tedder to join me straight away.”
“Sam?”
“Sir, that report needs sanitising.” He indicated the one from the Polish agent.
“If it goes out as it is there is too much information if the enemy gets a sniff of it. Need to protect the British agent, Sir.”
“Agreed. Get it done and get this information out to my Generals.”
The three officers came to attention.
“Oh, and Thomas, please cut me the paperwork for the promotion of Captain Foster. I think Major is the least we can do to the lady who may just have pulled our coals out of the fire.”
“Yes Sir.”
The three left, one grinning from ear to ear with satisfaction and pride.
An Air Force Lieutenant stepped forward and indicated the telephone.
“Sir, General Bradley, sir.”
Eisenhower settled down in his chair with a fresh cigarette and took up the receiver.
“Eisenhower, and good morning to you, General Bradley.”
Ike listened for a moment and then interrupted his senior man.
“Well as it happens, Brad, we may have just come up with something.”
A pause as Bradley made some quip and then Eisenhower dropped his bombshell.
“It’s all a question of rivers.”
Many miles away, in the underground headquarters facility at Nordhausen, Marshall Zhukov was also talking rivers.
“So where is the new equipment we were promised eh? Where are the trained personnel? The new units? Govno!”
Zhukov took in the stark surroundings, seeking some solace in the map-covered concrete walls and finding solely the obligatory picture of the General Secretary to break up the monotony of military paraphernalia.
Making direct eye contact with the highly stylised portrait of Stalin, he repeated his questions more fiercely, a fact not wasted on Malinin.
Zhukov’s Chief of Staff referred to a report he had prepared on the matter of Soviet bridging engineers.
“We have now stripped virtually all the assets from the Poles, and 75% of the equipment from the interior forces, plus the Crimea, and Iran.”
“Your order to recycle equipment has meant that we have maintained our advance. It has caused us some logistical problems as you are aware, Comrade Marshall, but we are coping.”
The word ‘just’ was left unsaid but well understood by the Commander in Chief, who also knew that Malinin was not criticising, just stating fact.
“It has been necessary to replace some crossings where the logistical issues were insurmountable.”
Marshall Zhukov pulled out his chair and sat, making notes as his CoS carried on with his brief.
“Losses in personnel have been heavier than anticipated, meaning that some of our bridging units are less effective than they look on paper, Comrade Marshall.”
Zhukov took up his tea and listened to his right-hand man confirm his worst suspicions.
“Our projections are not as accurate as they could have been, for a number of reasons.”
Consulting the figures closely, Malinin enlightened his Commander.
“As of 1800 hrs yesterday, our equipment losses are running at 50% over expectations, personnel losses at 65% over.”
“The order to limit combat engineering has saved lives and equipment but has had a negative effect on combat operations, particularly time wise, which is partially why we are running behind schedule.”
Sounds of mumbled discontent drifted over from the bald Marshall.
“I obtained this interesting report from the Far East command, originating from Polkovnik General of Engineers Tsirlin to Marshall Vasilevsky.”
Malinin rose and passed a document over, referring to his own copy as he drew his chief’s attention to the damning sentences.
“In referring to his new influx of engineer officers, you will note that Tsirlin complains of low training standards and competence across the range of duties.”
“On the second page he speaks of low-quality equipment, with higher than acceptable failure rates.”
Producing another report for Zhukov, Malinin moved on.
“That is reflected in the second part of a report from Mayor General Perhorovich regarding the failure of his August 12th assault into the south of Hannover over the Leine River, on the Waldhausen-Ricklingen axis.”
Malinin thumbed straight to the third page and précised the meat of the report.
“Perhorovich lays the blame for the failure squarely on the shoulders of the commander of the 2nd Battalion, 7th Pontoon Bridge Brigade, attached to him from 1st Red Banner’s reserves.”
“The commander of 70th Guards Heavy Tank Regiment was killed along with four of his crews, and valuable vehicles lost, when the bridge collapsed due to apparently faulty engineer work.”
After a pause to let Zhukov digest the information, Malinin concluded.
“Perhorovich had the commander of the 2nd Battalion, Mayor of Engineers Pavlov, arrested on the spot. The NKVD took the officer away and hanged him by the roadside, complete with a placard damning him as a saboteur. Subsequent investigations discovered defective manufacturing in the ropes and low quality metal fixings and welding work on the pontoons.”
Zhukov looked up puzzled, his hand suddenly touching one of his awards as a memory flickered into life.
“Pavlov of the 7th? Didn’t I…”
His voice trailed off as restrained nodding from Malinin indicated his memory was correct, and he had indeed presented the young Major Pavlov with the Hero of the Soviet Union award during the Patriotic War.
Zhukov recalled the enthusiastic young officer who had led a combat bridging assault with incredible bravery and skill.
“Perhorovich acted precipitously, and we have lost a good officer.”
“I agree, Comrade Marshall. Do you propose action on the matter?”
Zhukov considered his options quickly.
“Send the General a copy of Pavlov’s service record and commendations. Request of him a written explanation of his actions,” and pausing to finish his latest cup of tea, he ended with a flourish, “Marked for my personal attention. That should focus his mind, Comrade.”
Sampling a sweet biscuit from the tray, Zhukov waited whilst his CoS made the appropriate notation.
“So, I assume shortcuts were being made in the engineer officer training?”
“Yes, Comrade Marshall. The programme had been adapted to circumstances. It is now back to its original form.”
Nothing more could be said on that point.
“What steps are being taken regarding the equipment?”
“All bridging units have been ordered to check their equipment against these noted failures, Comrade Marshall.”
“Good, there must be no repeats.”
More tea was poured by the senior man.
“NKVD Quality control teams are on their way to interview the factory managers of the facilities that produced the defective items.”