“And you can’t bomb it because of all our prisoners.”
Crisp made it a statement, and Rossiter’s unexpected reply made his jaw drop.
“On the contrary… we intend to bomb it.”
There was what almost amounted to an outcry amongst the assembled soldiers.
“The planning done thus far gives us a window of one hour from the time the operation is initiated… that’s one hour to liberate the camp and get as many of the prisoners out of harm’s way as possible. We cannot allow more than that. There must be no opportunity for then to remove or salvage anything of value.”
“So, let me get this right, General Rossiter.
Crisp strode to the front of the room and touched the map at each place as he made his points.
“We fly from here to… Talesh… and then onto Camp 1001… where we make an assault against a full battalion of infantry plus change… not far from a tank regiment’s training facility, all under the umbrella of about three Soviet air squadrons. We liberate the entire camp and then go underground, where it’s just possible we might find more enemy soldiers… find something, we know not what, grab it, kidnap a few men in white coats, set a few charges, police up the POWs and hightail it before you start dropping bombs all over the place… all in one hour.”
Crisp’s face was red with the effort of controlling himself.
“Look here, General… we volunteered for this mission but by God, no one can have imagined it was going to be anything like this. It’s a suicide mission!”
Rossiter composed himself and turned to the rest of the room.
“This is not an easy mission… far from it… but it’s not a suicide mission… we can plan this to make the timetable work. And that timetable is set in stone, make no mistake. The follow up bombers have an hour to get in for the attack, and even then it could be cutting it fine. Any longer than that and the Soviet air responses will be more than air force can handle.”
“Colonel Crisp is rightly concerned, but we haven’t yet started to iron out the issues and get our operational plan in place.”
Disbelief was written large on every man’s face, and Rossiter simply couldn’t blame them for their doubts. It was a true monster of a mission.
“Let us plan the mission, gentlemen… get everything sorted as to the best of our abilities. Then, if it’s impossible, we call your part off.”
“Our part?”
“Yes, Major Shandruk… just our part. No matter what, the bombers will go in.”
“But your men… sorry… our men… our prisoners… you intend to bomb anyway and kill them all?”
Rossiter had been prepared for this question, although he was as yet unprepared to order the mission itself, the idea of killing thousands of Allied soldiers caused so much turmoil, despite the necessity of closing 1001 down.
“That’s the bottom line of it, Major Shandruk.”
The sound that emanated from a dozen throats spoke of anguish, mixed with disgust, and not a little hatred.
“’Scuse me, General.”
“Lieutenant?”
“So… if we go, we get one hour to get as many of our boys out of Dodge as possible… and then you bomb. If we don’t go… you bomb the poor fuckers anyway?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, that’s the size of it.”
Hässler mouth worked but no sound came out. The reply was furnished by Bluebear.
“This is some fucked up mission!”
Those who knew him understood such words didn’t ever trip from his mouth, but such was his incredulity. The noise level rose as men voiced their objections in simple soldierly terms.
Crisp took centre stage again, but he contented himself with eyeballing Bluebear and no more.
Holding his hands out, he called the room to order. The men fell into grudging silence.
“Gotta agree with Captain Bluebear… this is one fucked up mission for sure… but… we’ve yet to work on our plan so let’s apply ourselves and see what we can come up with.”
Turning to the diagram, he patted the prison camps lines as he spoke.
“I for one ain’t gonna have the blood of these boys on my hands, so I’m going, come what may… just to give them the best chance of survival.”
Rossiter nodded in agreement and also in thanks for the paratrooper’s straightforward words.
“Right, let’s get started now. General, what assets can we call on here?”
Relieved to be on firmer ground, Rossiter produced a list of transport and fighter aircraft that could be made available.
It was a start, although Crisp could already see that there was nowhere near enough room to bring back all the men and prisoners.
The group started to throw in suggestions.
Some were pie in the sky, whereas others had true merit.
It was Crisp who suggested taking weapons to arm the prisoners…
…Shandruk who suggested a way to open the camp up.
…Hughes who ventured an idea to get them closer.
…Galkin who swiftly formed an operation outline that pulled everything together.
…Rossiter who dropped the name of Oberst Trannel of the DRL into the pot, offering a vague solution to the tank regiment issue. Even though he hadn’t even broached the matter with the German officer yet, as their European ally was under such heavy suspicion.
It was Bluebear that asked a question that changed everything, dragging an answer out of Rossiter, who revealed something he had wished not to reveal.
“What’s safe distance for when the bombers come in, General?”
Many eyes looked at the map, assessing circles of increasing diameter.
“No closer than eight miles.”
“Goddamned air force can’t drop ‘em more accurately than that!”
Galkin’s comment brought on a modest wave of laughter, except for those who had grasped exactly what Rossiter’s words implied.
Those who understood turned their eyes to Crisp whose mouth was twisted in anguish.
“Goddamnit, General! So we gotta go in, come what may!”
He turned to his men and spoke with total certainty.
“According to the debriefing documents I have studied, our atomic bombs damaged buildings and wounded people up to eight miles from the point of explosion. The air force are gonna put an atomic on the place. If we don’t go in and get some of those poor bastards out… well, they’re all gonna die.”
“What happened to ‘nothing you won’t tell us’, eh… General?”
Rossiter flushed at the accusation, more so because the bloody Greek Major was absolutely correct.
“I’m still not supposed to have told you. You must understand that such missions are classified beyond your wildest dreams. You cannot share that information with your men… you simply cannot!”
He grabbed the pointer off Crisp and moved next to the map of Southern Russia.
“The air attack will be in two waves. The first will be using earthquake bombs to open up the ground and destroy as much of the facility as possible. The second wave will drop an atomic device, destroying everything for a radius of four miles. Everything.”
He passed the pointer back and moved forward into the group that had gathered closer.
“That’s where we’re at, boys. This site’s crucial and has to go. We want to give our prisoners the best possible chance, and we can combine that with an intelligence grab… but we can’t leave anything salvageable for the commies to continue with their research. That will be the President’s call, but don’t mistake me. He will make that call.”
The silence was laden with meaning, and heavy with unfavourable portents.
Crisp decided to grab the bull by the horns.
“To hell with it. We’re gonna make this work, cos we’re gonna do it or die trying. Move on, gentlemen.”