The Allied plan was simple.
Hit hard, hit fast, and give the Soviet High Command as much to think about as possible.
In the south, planning deliberately took any Allied offensive action away from the Yugoslavians, mainly to prevent any unfortunate accident that could pull the large Yugoslav Army into the war on Stalin’s side.
Whilst not quite a general attack, the expectation was for a number of penetrations in the Red Army lines, all of which would be exploited to the maximum degree.
Part of the planning was to remove Soviet troops from the borders of Switzerland and, in the doing, relieve the position of US XXXIII Corps.
Both British 15th Army Group and US 6th Army Group both had parts to play in that, before a wide advance aimed at allowing the 6th to gain Munchen and south-west Czechoslovakia, maintaining contact with the 12th and 15th either side, whilst the 15th moved parallel to the south of them, and into Austria.
US 12th Army Group had Prague as its primary objective, although the attached French Army had Dresden as its goal.
The German Republican Army, full of veteran soldiers despite its infancy, had been handed the prize, although all knew it would be a bittersweet experience.
Berlin would cost many lives.
British 21st Army Group was tasked to bash its way along the northern coast, relief of the Polish bridgehead as its priority.
In general terms, Allied planning catered for occupation of all lands up to the west bank of the Oder River, but Eisenhower and his generals, and even the politicians, were realistic enough to know that it was unlikely that Operation Spectrum would take them that far.
Their greatest advantages lay in logistics and air power, the former incredibly complex machine coiled ready to bring the requirements of war from around the globe to Allied ports in Europe, and then distribute them swiftly and efficiently to the formations at the sharp end of combat.
The latter machine, the air force, had been hammering the Red Army across Europe for weeks, and the 26th March offered up opportunities for greater destruction, as available targets multiplied with the expected Soviet ground response and the decimated Red Air Force rose to meet the inexorable swarms.
Time alone would tell how a battle-ready, well-supplied, well-equipped, and well-motivated Allied Army would perform against a savaged but still more numerical Red Army, bolstered by some new technological advances and inspired by an implacable political regime.
By all definitions, this portion of the Heracles missions was a total milk run.
Whatever flak there had been had missed by a country mile, surprisingly less effective than Soviet AA had started to become in recent months.
There had been a brief suggestion of intercepting fighters, but defensive aircraft had moved in and, apart from two bright but short-lived flashes at distance, and a drawling American voice announcing two bogies down, there had been nothing to really suggest their presence.
The eight Lancasters of the RAF’s 9 Squadron lined up their target perfectly. Elsewhere, the rest of 9 Squadron and other specially trained RAF and RAAF Lancaster squadrons approached their own objectives, one of the ten goals of the Heracles missions, the priority targets being spread over the length and breadth of Europe.
Behind each leading group came larger groups, carrying conventional HE and incendiary loads.
There were more behind them too.
The Master Bomb-Aimer was conscious of the responsibility on his shoulders.
“Steady… steady…”
Through the small formation, anticipation was growing, especially with the bomb-aimers, to whom fell the responsibility of ensuring that their single bombs hit right on the money.
“Steady… steady…”
Visibility was perfect, not a cloud and excellent early morning light by which to aim with the utmost precision.
9 and 617 Squadrons were two of the RAF’s finest, although it was the modifications to their Avro Lancasters that gave them their roles within ‘Heracles’.
The plan was ruthlessly simple.
Nordhausen had been visited in the German War, with some success, but not as hard and in such a short time as was about to happen.
“Steady… steady… stea… bomb gone!”
No-one really needed telling, as the release of the twelve thousand pound Tallboy bomb could not go unnoticed, the lightened Lancaster springing upwards instantly.
The eight Lancasters were flying in two diamonds, incredibly close, with one diamond tucked in behind and slightly above the other with little room to spare. Within ten seconds, each aircraft had deposited their cargo into the air above Nordhausen; above the headquarters of the Red Banner Forces of Soviet Europe.
Six Tallboy bombs led the way, three each on a specific point.
Already in the air behind them came two Grand Slam bombs, twenty-thousand pounds of Torpex D1 explosive, intent on finishing the work started by the six Tallboys.
The follow-on attack might experience some difficulties with the aftermath of so many large explosions. Planning and practice meant that the big bombs were all aimed and laid before the target was obscured by the debris thrown up by the rapid detonation of one hundred and sixteen thousand pounds of high-explosive doing what it does best in an intended target area of less than six football pitches.
Between 0904 and 0922, aircraft from 9 Sqdn, 115 Sqdn, 617 Sqdn, and 460 Sqdn RAAF visited ten separate targets, identified as ‘Heracles I to X’, placing over a half of the Allied stock of tallboys and two-thirds of the Grand Slams on their targets; over a million pounds of high-explosive, all dropped with a single purpose.
To cut the heads off the Hydra.
Most readers with any knowledge of World War Three will know the general outcome of the final operations of Spectrum, and will therefore appreciate how long and complex this section of combat and political history would be to both read and write.
I have decided to follow certain of the key personnel from both sides, who served within areas specific to Allied Army Groups, as well as on the home fronts, or reflect famous engagements, through to the conclusion of ‘Spectrum’. I hope I can write well enough to give a flavour of how those dreadful days passed for the soldiers, sailors, and airmen of both sides.
Despite the fact that isolating fronts risks missing some of the times where the effects of a single operation spread further into surrounding formations, I can see no alternative to avoid this history becoming cumbersome.
I hope you will agree.
Chapter 141 – THE FIFTEENTH
Freedom is never free.
He had no idea how long he had been unconscious for, except that it had been long enough for his headquarters to be destroyed.
Shaking his head to clear his vision, he listened without hearing to the man on the other end of the phone.
“Speak up! I can’t fucking hear you!”
Another bomb exploded and the blast wave hit the small bunker that he used to sleep in, a decision that had undoubtedly preserved the life of the commander of 1st Alpine Front.
The blast threw more dust into the air, forcing Chuikov further under the table, clutching the telephone box to his chest.
“No, I didn’t hear you, Comrade.”
The urgent voice repeated its enquiry, only louder.