Stan blinked first, pulling back. He didn’t want to lose all his armor. The Chinese tank commander gave chase, big T-66 monsters leaving the expressway to follow the retreating Jeffersons.
As Stan lurched about his command tank, he gave an order he didn’t want to. “I need the Cherokees.”
The last six attack helicopters of his maneuver battalion lofted, racing into the engagement from the flank. They hovered sixty feet above the ground, and their Hellfire IIs began to slow down and then destroy the heavily armored tri-turreted tanks.
The Chinese tankers were professionals. Unknown to Stan, they had come from Japan. Chairman Hong had used some of his best soldiers to watch the Japanese. The Chinese tankers tonight loaded their cannons with antiair rounds. The next salvo brought down two Cherokees.
“General, do I have your permission to break off?” the battalion commander asked.
Stan drew a deep breath. He was gaining separation with the T-66s. “Negative,” he said. “Fight it out.”
No reply came back, but the four Cherokees fought a death match with the land battleships. They launched Hellfire IIs, Hydra-80s and poured bullets with their chain guns. It was a laser light show… while it lasted. Four more Chinese super-tanks died, and another six lost their treads.
Then the last Cherokee crashed against the ground.
American heavy artillery hammered the T-66s. The Chinese commander managed to drag four of the disabled T-66s with the other tanks, taking them back to the ring expressway and into the city. The rest died to artillery.
The Chinese tank commander lost half his super-tanks, but he beat back the first American attempt to get onto Changchun’s front porch.
The city still awaited the invaders, defying them to take Manchuria’s second most important urban center.
Stan mourned his dead soldiers and aviators and the loss of the Cherokees. It had been a difficult decision. Yet he knew one thing: without the Jeffersons, they were never going to conquer Manchuria.
He pulled back as V Corps regrouped.
That night, Stan inspected his division, talking with colonels, captains, lieutenants and sergeants. He took the pulse of their morale. With a shrewd eye, he studied the shape of their vehicles and the men’s bearing. They still had fight left. The machines were in decent shape.
Around four o’clock in the morning, he sat outside his command Jefferson, staring at the stars. He drank hot coffee from a thermos.
As he often did, he reviewed historical parallels. This one seemed obvious: Beirut in 1982 when the Israelis invaded Lebanon. The Israeli Army swept aside the Palestinians and others as they raced for the capital. They stopped outside the city. Yes, the Jewish leaders had political reasons for doing so, but there had also been military reasons too. In a big city, determined men with small arms could create a hell world even for some of the best soldiers in the world. The Germans learned that in Stalingrad.
The Chinese mean to fight here. They’re trying to slow us down with siege warfare.
Stan frowned. How many excellent troops did the Chinese have in Manchuria? For weeks now, the enemy had used inferior soldiers and guerillas to try to absorb the invasion.
With a snap of his fingers, Stan jumped up. He sprinted to a jeep, climbed in and raced for General Taylor of V Corps.
A groggy Taylor eyed him an hour later. “Do you know what time it is?”
They stood in a modern schoolhouse. Nodding, Stan pulled out a computer scroll, spreading it out on the teacher’s desk.
“Do you know what I think?” Stan said.
Taylor frowned. His eyes were very red. Finally, he shrugged.
Stan manipulated controls. Chinese formations began to appear on the map, which showed Changchun and the surrounding countryside.
“Look at the enemy formations in the city,” Stan said.
“I’ve been looking at nothing else for hours today.”
“You heard of my encounter with the T-66s?”
“I did. I’m not sure I approve—”
“Never mind what I did,” Stan said. “The point is the Chinese have made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“They’re trying to turn Changchun into an invincible fortress,” Stan said.
“From our first encounter near the city, it sounds like they’re doing it, not just trying.”
“That’s not my point. They’ve only used second-class formations so far. The reason is obvious. They’re trying to buy time while they train more soldiers. Now, suddenly, they’re using their first class units. That’s the key to Changchun’s defense. Look. They hope to embroil us in costly city warfare. It’s the right idea. Yet I think they’ve put too many of their best formations here.”
“I’m still not tracking your idea,” Taylor said.
“We bypass the city.”
Taylor shook his head.
“If the Chinese have put their best troops in Changchun, let’s encircle the city and leave a guard to watch them. Meanwhile, we race deeper into China, into Liaoning Province. Let these best troops whither on the vine.”
“The main roads go through Changchun. We’re going to need it for logistical reasons.”
“Bypass it,” Stan said. “Use other routes.”
“Why do you think that’s such a brilliant idea?”
“You and I both know Hitler should never have gone into Stalingrad. He didn’t need to. He could have ringed it with artillery, cut it off and bypassed the place. Instead, he hammered at the city with good German soldiers who knew how to maneuver in the field. In a city, the side with more willpower or guts usually wins. In Changchun, the civilians with rifles will help to make it hell for us. Instead of doing any of that, we neutralize some of China’s best troops, just by keeping them there. That will make it easier on us later in Liaoning Province.”
“Yes…” Taylor said. “I’m beginning to like it. The Chinese need time to train their new troops. But we’re not going to give them time. They’ll have to put them into battle too soon because we bypass Changchun and don’t give them any time to prepare the next defenses.”
“If we attack fast enough,” Stan said.
“Yes…” Taylor said. “That’s an interesting idea. Still, it will take a lot of balls to bypass such a huge fortress. We would be leaving some good formations in the city. If they ever broke out…”
“We’d have to leave enough behind to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“Which would also weaken us,” Taylor said.
“Some,” Stan said. “But we’d be leaving behind secondary troops, lesser soldiers. If we storm Changchun, we’re going to lose our best men.”
Taylor nodded. “It’s a good idea. But so what? We don’t make strategy.”
“I think it’s time you called up General McGraw,” Stan said. “Tell him… tell him this is my idea. Tell him grinding us to death for Changchun is stupid when we could get the whole thing.”
Taylor eyed Stan. Finally, he said, “Let me think about it.”
“Meaning no disrespect, sir, but I wouldn’t think too long. We have to act fast. That’s the only way we’re going to take Manchuria.”
Taylor turned away, staring at a wall. In time, he regarded Stan. “I want you to stay right here. I’ll call McGraw, and then I’m going to let you explain it to him as you just did to me.”
“Yes, sir,” Stan said.
From Military History: Past to Present, by Vance Holbrook: