Stan thought about James Wolfe, about risks and rewards. No one liked having the enemy behind him. It rattled soldiers and it shook commanders when enemy tanks roamed around in their rear areas, blowing up supplies and destroying headquarters units. That’s what this was about, maneuvering behind the enemy—the risk—dislodging him psychologically and then destroying him physically—the reward.
“This might sound like a radical idea,” Stan said. “But I think we can roll up these defenders from behind.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Taylor asked angrily, as red spots appeared on his cheeks. “I thought I told you to quite giving me cryptic comments.”
“What’s your plan, Professor?” General Peters asked.
“I call it river cruising,” Stan said. “We strip our divisions of the Lee platoons and put them altogether. That gives us about forty light tanks. We add forty IFVs with infantry. They’re amphibious too. That gives us eighty machines. They enter the river at dusk in single file. We’ll have to turn upstream and use the auxiliary motors. That means the batteries. They’re going to come close to draining by the end of the journey, but I think we can do this. Hmmm… if we could reach this area here,” Stan said, pointing at the map.
“I suppose it sounds okay in theory,” Taylor said, dubiously.
“I’ve tested a Lee before, sir, in the water,” Stan said. “Only the top three feet of the vehicle will extend above the river, while the engine is underwater. That will shield the noise and insure there’s no infrared signature for the enemy to spot. This way, we slip behind the Chinese in the dark. I think this is the best place to climb out of the river.”
“Then what, you attack?” Taylor asked.
“That’s the tricky part, sir,” Stan said. “I’m not sure. The Lees aren’t much good at frontal assaults. You need a Jefferson for that. Still, hitting the enemy fast from behind might be the best thing.”
“What else is there?”
“Well, sir, we could dig in behind some hills and block their reinforcement and retreat route, waiting until you broke through the front.”
Taylor squinted at the map. “Maybe a combination of the idea would make the most sense. If you gain surprise, you want to use it attacking, not squander it sitting while the enemy gets used to you being there.”
“That’s a good point,” Stan said.
“The Lees could attack until they met heavy resistance. Then they dig in and wait.”
“They couldn’t wait too long, though,” Stan said.
“No…” Taylor said. “But maybe they wouldn’t reach heavy resistance. Maybe as the Lees attack from behind, V Corps begins a methodical frontal assault. The rearward attack will shake the Chinese forward commanders and soldiers. They’ll turn shaky, begin pulling back, and that’s when we smash them.”
“It’s a risk for the Lees,” Stan admitted. “But risks often bring great rewards.”
As he studied the map, stocky General Taylor swore, and he shook his head in amazement. “Where do you come up with ideas like this, Higgins?”
Stan could tell him. It was through reading lots of history. But he knew from experience that no one here wanted to hear that. So he kept quiet.
“It’s a brilliant idea,” Taylor said. “I love it. You’ve just volunteered to lead this harebrained scheme, unless you want to back out?”
Stan kept his features neutral, but his increased heart rate let him know that suggesting a thing was many times different from having to lead it. Yet if his idea sent young men into danger, there was no way he could honorably stay behind.
“It’s settled then,” Taylor said. “I’ll call First HQ and let them know what we have planned. Yes… I’ll suggest we barrage the enemy with artillery today to let the bastards think they’ve outsmarted us while they dig in against a frontal attack. We’ll even let them bring the rest of their formations up into the bag.”
We hope to capture them, Stan silently added.
“Then, tomorrow morning,” Taylor said, clapping his hands. “We smash them flat and scoop them up, adding them to our POW camps.”
Stan nodded. He sure hoped that’s exactly how it worked.
Chief Guardian Inspector Shun Li of Northeast China inspected the outer tank traps of Harbin. Behind her followed a squad of East Lightning enforcers, big men in body armor and enclosed helmets with darkened visors. Each cradled a close-combat carbine. Each would shoot anyone she wanted. She need merely point and nod or say, “Kill.”
Like trained beasts, they were eager to please. Like animals, they enjoyed their work with no remorse, and they frightened her more than she cared to admit.
I am riding the tiger. If I try to climb down, the tiger will turn on me, devouring my body while I watch.
She continued to kill others because Hong had maneuvered her into this post, giving her no choice. She’d tried to escape her fate by becoming the Police Minister of all China. Hong had outfoxed her once again. That day when he’d faced Army Minister Chao Pin, she should have turned her pistol on Hong, killing the monster when she had the opportunity. Now, it was too late.
I will kill others as demanded of me, hollowing myself into a shell until I fade away, a murderous wraith, a ghost the world will curse.
Fu Tao walked beside her. The diminutive killer wore an East Lightning officer’s uniform. She’d made him a lieutenant. Despite the rigged finger, he also kept a small gun tucked out of sight. His presence baffled people, and she refrained from ordering him to kill anyone. Fu Tao was her secret, a knife, metaphorically speaking, kept in her boot.
Like her, he watched the masses digging trenches, a giant moat before Harbin. She halted. Tao stopped, and the enforcers clattered, their armor rattling as they, too, came to attention.
Under the shade of the bill of her hat, Shun Li observed the plain. Dirt flew everywhere from one hundred thousand shovels or more. The people of Harbin took turns digging tank traps. The Americans came. Elsewhere in China and Mongolia, the Russians and German machines rolled over bloody Sino corpses. The people toiled here as soldiers and militiamen marched along the roads, advancing to meet the hated invaders.
Chairman Hong and his generals kept the majority of the tanks back. They expended half-trained troops against the enemy, paving the route with flesh and blood. Meanwhile, East Lightning generals trained young men and women to fight a guerrilla war behind enemy lines. Among her various tasks, Shun Li goaded those generals to action.
Today, she had another task. First, however, she observed the people. According to the latest report, the Americans would be before Harbin in six days, possibly five. Everything had to be ready by then. Before that, others were to wear the Americans down, slowing their rate of advance.
“Shun Li,” Tao said.
She glanced at the tiny man. He indicated a heavyset woman, a Militia major overseeing one section of tank traps.
“Yes?” Shun Li asked the keen-eyed man.
“I haven’t seen her work,” Tao said. “She just gives orders from the edge of the trench.”
“Ah,” Shun Li. “Good. Thank you.” She regarded her enforcers. Then she motioned them to follow her. They perked up like hungry beasts.
Shun Li sighed as she approached the major and the woman’s people. The Americans particularly frightened the masses. People had been listening to stories about the Americans for three years now. They were savages, barbarians, and had fought without mercy in North America. Now, the barbarians were in China to enact revenge.
Are we universally guilty as a people for the nuclear weapons exploded in Oklahoma? Is that why everyone fears the Americans? The North Americans have a right to be angry with us.