In silence, Shun Li absorbed his words.
“Gentlemen,” Hong said from the head of the table. “I am here to inform you that events move in our favor.”
Several marshals shifted uncomfortably.
“Yes,” Hong said. “I understand your mood. You are glum, and there are concrete reasons for this. The enemy has secured Harbin in record time. The Russians and Americans rush supplies from Siberia to the city, building a forward supply dump. They have already reached Jilin Province and clearly head toward Changchun, hoping to repeat their performance in Harbin. However, I would like to point out that once again our lines have stiffened. We have moved yet more masses of secondary troops into place and forced the enemy to expend precious munitions against them.”
“Leader,” Marshal Kiang said. He wore a dark uniform as he fidgeted with a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Otherwise, he was an average-looking sixty-year-old. “May we view the facts as they stand?”
Shun Li blinked rapidly. She expected Hong to order the marshal shot. Instead, Hong meekly inclined his head as he sat down.
Marshal Kiang stood, and he held a control in his right hand. He pointed it at a screen, pressing a button. A strategic map of North Korea, Manchuria, Outer Mongolia and southeastern Siberia appeared. Blue units were Chinese. The enemy was red.
“Let us speak close to home first,” Marshal Kiang said. “The enemy has conquered Heilongjiang Province and begun his penetration of the next layer of Northeast China, Jilin Province. As troublesome to us, Russian forces have swung through the rest of eastern Siberia. As the Americans raced to Harbin, Russians have captured the old, Soviet Far Eastern Province from us. They reached Vladivostok as the people rose against our garrison, stabbing them in the back, as it were.”
“I am aware of all this,” Hong said.
Marshal Kiang used the clicker to circle Vladivostok on the strategic map. “I believe the Russians plan is to launch an offensive from here, driving to the Tumen River Valley and crossing into North Korea along the coast and finally reaching its capital of Pyongyang.”
“Through the Hamgyong Mountains?” asked Hong.
“It will be difficult terrain, but the Russians have paratroops and airmobile brigades.”
“Our missiles and lasers battalions—”
“Yes,” Kiang said, interrupting the Chairman. “By sending reinforcements there and precious antimissile units, we should be able to secure the coastal route. In my opinion, we must. If the Russians can cross the Hamgyong Mountains and reach Pyongyang, they can strike at Shenyang from the southeast. Clearly, the Russians would attempt this as the rest of the invaders attacked out of a conquered Jilin Province. That would give us two directions we had to protect, from the north and the southwest. Further, if the Russians can reach Pyongyang that will give them yet another supply route into Northeast China.”
“I disagree with your fantasy scenario,” Hong said from his seat. “The invaders will never reach Shenyang, because we will stop them in Jilin Province, in Changchun. It is my belief that we cannot let the enemy reach Liaoning Province. Too much of our heavy industry lies there.”
“Leader,” Marshal Kiang said. “I have studied your original proposal of wearing out the enemy with inferior forces first as we gather our primary military. Then we strike the invaders a hammer blow once they have spent their first great strategic impulse. May I say that it was and is a brilliant idea?”
Hong sat a little straighter as he made a depreciative gesture, his fingertips fluttering.
“Your suggestion now to rush massive reinforcements into Jilin Province strikes me as… as premature,” Kiang said.
“With Harbin’s relatively easy capture,” Hong said, “we cannot let Changchun fall with the same ease.”
“I agree. We must make it a bitter struggle for the enemy through Jilin Province.”
“We’re agreed then?”
“Not quite,” Kiang said. “Please, permit me to explain.”
“Yes, of course,” Hong said.
“The enemy expends every effort to rush supplies from Europe and Russia along the Trans-Siberian rail-net,” Kiang said. “They stockpiled as much as they could in eastern Siberia before the invasion. I believe they gathered enough fuel and ammunition for four, possibly five weeks of intense combat. Afterward, they will begin to struggle. The Trans-Siberian rail net will not be able to feed them the same quantity of supplies. That is when they will have expended their first strategic impulse.”
“We are in the third week of the invasion and already they move for Changchun,” Hong said.
“Yes. We must weather their initial gust. We were weak and they were strong. They weaken day by day, however, as we strengthen hour by hour. Harbin, Changchun, their falls are unimportant as long as we can set up the enemy for a truly devastating blow.”
“The world watches us fall back before their onslaught,” Hong said. “Our allies watch, some with fear and others with hidden joy. This display of weakness hurts our prestige, which is a political matter. If we show too much weakness, the Indian League might change their mind. We could not withstand their entry into the fray.”
“I agree to a point, Leader. Yet to appear strong initially and then weaken because we lose choice units won’t help us in the end. Such decisions to go to war often take time. That means our coming display of strength will make the Indian League, the entire world, take stock of our invincible might. Sometimes, one must take one step back to take two forward.”
“A Russian spoke those words,” Hong said with distaste. “Their prophet Lenin, I believe.”
“Let us attack the invaders with power when their supply situation becomes critical,” Kiang said. “I think we should continue to use secondary, militia and guerilla forces as you gather the Chinese Army on the southern border of Liaoning Province. I also suggest that you send several elite formations into the Changbai Mountains. We should stop the Russians out of Vladivostok before they can reach the Tumen River Valley.”
Shun Li couldn’t believe this. Kiang couched his words with honor, but he dictated military strategy to the Chairman. Incredibly, Hong nodded.
“The situation is different in Outer Mongolia,” Kiang said. “The AI Kaisers have proven insufferable antagonists. They give the enemy a bitter battlefield advantage. Because of the Kaisers, the Germans and Russians have reached the Inner Mongolian defenses. I suggest heavier numbers of antimissile lasers and more particle beam destroyers there.”
Once more, Chairman Hong nodded in acquiescence.
“We may need to divert several divisions of T-66s there as well,” Kiang said.
“Agreed,” Hong said.
Marshal Kiang cleared his throat. “As painful as it is for me to say this: overall the Allied invaders have superior equipment, morale and tactics than we do. We must arm the people in the cities and invite the barbarians to take each fortress in turn. Even if the invaders attempt this in small numbers, the Allied nations will soon find entire armies embroiled in siege warfare with our people. Then China’s Army can strike each battle group one at a time, obliterating them in turn.”
The chamber grew silent as Chairman Hong pondered the suggestion. Finally, he looked up, saying, “That has been my own plan all along.”
“Arming the people with machine guns, assault rifles and grenades?” Kiang asked.
“Under East Lightning supervision,” Hong said.
“I’m suggesting they do so under Army control and at times under their own supervision. Our invasion of North America showed us the truth of city warfare that goes back to Stalingrad and beyond. Lightly armed but highly motivated troops in urban terrain can force heavily armed and better-trained soldiers to slow down to a crawl in grinding house-to-house warfare. That means weeks, possibly months of attritional battles. By arming the people, we gain millions of soldiers. In the end—because of our intense urbanization and sheer numbers—it will prove an impossible task for these barbarians.”