“Thank you, Comrade Nazarbayeva.”
The connection was broken.
‘Blyad!’
1312 hrs, Sunday, 26th January 1947, the Black Sea, 82 kilometres southwest of Sochi, USSR.
The Neva had once known as the ‘SS-Essequibo’, a ship on which thousands of Spanish had fled their homeland in search of sanctuary in the communist heartland.
The rocket arrived unseen, its speed defeating the eye.
Its arrival meant destruction for the old ship, which simply disintegrated as the missile struck her amidships.
The submarine missile system was now fully operational.
Chapter 186 – THE DRUMS
Man is the only animal that deals in that atrocity of atrocities; War. He’s the only one that gathers his brethren about him and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his kind. He’s the only animal that, for sordid wages, will march out and help to slaughter strangers of his own species who have done him no harm, and with whom he has no quarrel. And in the intervals between campaigns he washes the blood off his hands and works for ‘the universal brotherhood of man’… with his mouth.
February 1947
Whilst the temperatures remained appallingly low, the forecasters reassured worried political and military minds that the winter would not be a repeat of the previous disastrous year.
Some projected that a relative normality would return by mid-March; some said sooner, some later.
Whilst the winter remained, agreements were reached on suspending the realignment of the front lines, again inspiring the Austrians to great protest as their capital remained in Soviet hands.
The cold weather did not prevent the two factions in Czechoslovakia from killing each other, and the situation continued to cause concern to both sides of the European No Man’s Land, despite the slow but steady progress around the negotiating table in Camp Vár.
There were flare-ups in Ukraine and in the Baltic States, and even a clash between the pugnacious Australians and Soviet forces on the southern border, one that resulted in six Soviet dead and a standoff that lasted for nearly forty-eight hours.
That the standoff clearly took place in Allied territory was denied by the Soviets, even after a member of the Swedish military delegation visited the area and confirmed that the Red Army unit was over five hundred metres inside the Allied zone.
The most serious losses were sustained by the US Navy in the Northern Pacific, although not as a result of any Soviet interference.
USS Lake Champlain CV-39, an Essex class aircraft carrier, fell victim to a series of happenings that eventually required she be torpedoed by her escorts.
A returning Grumman Bearcat started events rolling by crashing onto the deck and cartwheeling into the tower.
The fire spread quickly, aided by the fuel load of the aircraft that had only just taken off and aborted its mission due to engine issues.
Secondary explosions apparently hindered the damage control teams, and subsequently negated much of their efforts when some of the fire-fighting mains were lost.
Internal explosions continued to ravage the carrier, preventing any close-in efforts to assist in firefighting from the supporting vessels.
An attempt by the light cruiser USS Tucson CL-98 to get water onto the burning Champlain ended when seventeen of her firefighting team were killed as the carrier side opened up in a huge explosion.
Tucson laid off to recover and the decision was made to abandon ship.
Six hundred and seven departed souls remained on board the stricken vessel as torpedoes from USS Rupertus DD-851 opened the hull to the ocean, and Lake Champlain slipped beneath the surface.
1651 hrs, Saturday, 1st February 1947, Dankerode, Germany.
The 11th Panzer Division performance was more than Guderian could have hoped for, given the events just over a week before hand.
None of the new turbine Panthers broke down, thanks to field modifications by the divisional werkstatt units, modifications which were even now being factory fitted and rolled out through other similarly equipped units.
II Deutsches Mechanisierte Korps [Legion] was the main unit on display, having the assault role, but the 11th had been assigned a wide sweeping advance, which Guderian observed from the BV-141 reconnaissance aircraft lazily flying over the mock battlefield.
The Poles performed magnificently but were outmanoeuvred, initially by a superbly unexpected oblique shift in the legion line of advance that cut between two of the Polish prime defensive units as they tried to relocate.
Secondly, the cooperation between the grenadiers and panzer elements was absolutely top notch, and Guderian could only watch in unfeigned horror as the Poles suddenly found themselves being rolled up from the middle out.
The final nail in the coffin was the speedy and accurate move by the 11th, who arrived in the rear of the Polish defences as they were attempting to reform for a third time.
Guderian had absolutely no doubt that the defending Polish formations would have been utterly destroyed has the exercise been the real thing.
He decided to be extremely gentle with the Polish contingent, whose sole error of note had been to not coordinate the withdrawal of two units.
Umpires on the field had decided that the day belonged to the German Republic, but that the victory would still have been bloodily achieved.
After debriefing and congratulating the senior officers involved, including a buoyant Bittrich, Guderian returned to his temporary headquarters and made a phone call.
“Good evening, Feldmarschal.”
“And to you, Herr Kanzler.”
“Do you have good news for me this evening?”
“Yes indeed, Herr Kanzler. I have managed to locate a copy signed by Remarque himself. I thought you’d want to know, in case you were still looking.”
Speer could not conceal his glee and tried hard to remember the precise words he should use.
“That’s marvellous. Danke, danke, danke, Feldmarschal. When do you think I could have it by?”
“Well, it’s not yet in my possession, Herr Kanzler, but I should think I’ll be able to get my hands on it and pass it to you by Monday week… the tenth I think.”
“So soon! Excellent. That’s really excellent news. Thank you. I bid you good night, Feldmarschal.”
“And to you, Herr Kanzler.”
Speer replaced the handset with studied care, his smile broad and unforced.
“So… you’ll gather that was Guderian.”
“I did, Herr Kanzler. Good news I assume?”
“Absolutely, Rudolf. The teething problems with the new engines have definitely been sorted and the final units are now combat-ready. He states that our forces will be able to respond to our requirements by 10th February.”
Diels have suspected it to be so, but the confirmation drove him to shout.
“Great news!”
“Yes. Now we must look to ensuring our planning is perfect, and that we gather as much useful information as possible.”
“Of course, Herr Kanzler, of course.”
Speer allowed himself a moment of pause to calm his inner thoughts, during which he poured two cognacs for himself and Diels.
“And our Allies still suspect nothing?”
Diels raised his glass.
“What is there to suspect, Herr Kanzler? Our forces are just ensuring they’re operationally ready and prepared for any eventuality. We’re simply being the efficient and organised military that our Allies know us to be. To our forces.”