The president’s Lincoln personae didn’t faze the assembled bureaucrats, whether in or out of uniform, but the prospect of losing their careers did. The four-star general smiled as one of his assistants, a real PowerPoint Ranger, flipped to the next series of slides.
“No worries there, sir. We’re going to come down on them like a freight train. A reinforced brigade of air assault troops will secure the state capitol in Tallahassee and link up with the besieged forces at Eglin Air Force Base, 60 miles west. For all practical purposes, that gives us control of the Panhandle. At the same time, two light brigades will secure the population center of Jacksonville in the northeast and stage for further advances down the East Coast if necessary.” He stood at parade rest, really getting into the groove.
“But the primary thrust is with the bulk of the 3rd Mechanized Infantry division already stationed in Georgia. That’s nearly 20,000 men with plenty of armor and artillery. The division will push down the relatively thinly populated center of the state along the I-75 corridor. We plan to occupy Gainesville by the end of day one. A short pause to rest and refit and then we make the final push. The ultimate objective is the provisional Florida capitol in Orlando. Shouldn’t be any reason to advance farther than that. All totaled, a two day, three at the outside, campaign.”
Every general and admiral nodded vigorously. The whole table of white, blue, green and brown costumes were in complete agreement. A rare sight.
“Whatever loyal forces they can muster will have to fight us before we get to Orlando. This is all sparsely populated, relatively dry and flat land. We’ll never have to enter the real swamps in the southern part of the state. Everything north of Orlando is decent maneuver country for armored vehicles, in the unlikely event we meet true resistance and have to deploy off the roads. Most importantly, there’ll be few civilians caught in the middle.
“Again, sir, this operation will more closely resemble a race than anything else. We plan to avoid any real urban combat. They’ll have to come out to us. As far as our sat intel can discern, that’s exactly what they’re preparing for. The bulk of the enemy’s forces appear to be massing and digging in across the interstate, right along the axis of attack.”
The general leaned forward to hide his partial erection. “Which is the worst possible strategy an outnumbered force could pursue. Remember sir, the FNG have no real tanks, limited artillery assets and even less of a logistical support train. It’s top heavy in infantry, primarily light infantry. Let’s face it, sir. How professional can you expect a force that only trains one weekend a month to be? In a stand up fight, they’d never stand a chance. I think they know that as well. At first contact, they’ll break wide open. If by some miracle they nut up and hold their ground…well, that’s why they say God’s on the side with the heaviest artillery!”
The president skimmed the printed details with little interest. “And their Air Force? They’ve caused us enough trouble already.”
An admiral chimed in. “Well, sir, their air power appears impressive, but we should be able to negate that advantage on Day 1 and with minimum losses to their equipment and personnel.”
The president made a sour face. “I’ve heard all these promises before, but how are you going to deliver this time? How are you going to keep this from becoming another disaster?”
A different Air Force general answered him, but not with his first thought, By not letting you micro-manage the operation.
“By surgical air strikes, sir. All their combat aircraft are concentrated on just five airfields. We’ll crater the runways, without hitting the aircraft themselves or the support facilities, with guided bombs fired from F117 stealth fighters. The laser designation will be provided by UAVs instead of Special Forces operators on the ground. Quick and clean. Minimum damage and even fewer chances for collateral damage, but hideously effective nonetheless. They won’t know what hit them. By the time they can repair the fields, the Army will have the insurrection well in hand.” His supreme confidence was infectious.
“Sir, they cannot hope to resist for more than a few hours, days with incredible luck. Frankly, I’m surprised they’re even trying. If I hadn’t seen the satellite imagery of their feverish preparations or hear Dimone’s fanatic followers on the news, I wouldn’t believe it myself.” He shook his head.
“One more thing, sir. We really wish you would reconsider the No Fly Zone option. If we went ahead and grabbed air superiority now, while waiting for the ground forces to get ready, we could significantly attrit their maneuver units before the first man crosses the border. We might even break their will to resist before we set any boots on the ground.”
This time the president’s chief of staff was the one telling the military how to do their job. “No, no. The president is correct that this needs to be a shock and awe type of operation.” Someone groaned at that worn out phrase.
“Call it what you like then, but we need to go in there without warning, without preamble. We can’t let their media people have time to define the talking points. We hit them like a bolt from the blue and the shock value is even stronger. The perception of the fight will be just as important as the fighting itself.”
An Air Force general pleaded directly to the president. “I understand your concerns, sir, but these Rules of Engagement make it more likely that there will be a fight. For example, demanding that a two-star general or above personally approve every air strike, regardless of ordinance used or quality of intelligence, drastically degrades our air power’s effectiveness.
“We’ll have air superiority early in the invasion. Why not use that advantage to smash any enemy task forces by air? Smash them long before the Army gets within range. We could shut down their artillery and keep any force larger than platoon size from massing to oppose us. The Army would just have to mop up. Even if we can’t break their will, we’ll have the opportunity to break their ability to fight before they get a chance!”
The president snorted. “Gentlemen, I don’t know the difference between a platoon and a task force and neither do most Americans. What they do know is the difference between military and civilian casualties. I don’t care if you can hit what you’re aiming at 99 % of the time. Just one bomb falling short and hitting a school or hospital will undermine the entire purpose of this mission.”
Some random civilian aide, who had never served in the military, felt knowledgeable enough to chime in. He had never even met someone who had served before coming to work at the White House, but he still somehow knew all about warfare. “Let’s be realistic, General. A soldier face to face with a rebel is far less likely to misidentify him with a civilian than a pilot flying at 300 miles an hour at 15,000 feet.”
The general didn’t know where to begin explaining that it’s usually a soldier on the ground telling the pilot exactly where to drop his guided bombs, or that officers are too busy to micromanage fire support. They had an elaborate system of target acquisition and checks and balances to reduce civilian casualties. How do you distill decades of hard-learned experience into a simple explanation that these kids could understand? He tried hard to find a witty analogy, but hadn’t prepared for this type of argument. After a few false starts, the president closed off the conversation.
“The American people can shrug off a bombed mosque in some far away land as just ‘collateral damage,’ but things will be quite different if they see the First Baptist Church of whatever Podunk town crowded with worshipers blown up. Not another word about this; my decision is final. Damn, I can’t believe we’re even discussing this!”