As more and more information came through, the jigsaw came together.
“Proceed, Walter.”
“Sir, we have reports of general attacks up and down the line, from the Baltic to the border with Switzerland.”
‘And not the Alps or Italy’ went unsaid, but was fully understood.
“Most of these attacks seem mainly intent on pinning our forces in place, and we are seeing the largest concentrations of Soviet artillery since the second wave of assaults on August 13th.”
Colonel Hood started to cough uncontrollably, causing the briefing to come to an abrupt halt, the fresh blood apparent on the handkerchief he had pressed to his mouth.
Eisenhower felt great sympathy for the man.
“Aww, Thomas. Get yourself down to the medics now. Your deputy can take over.”
Hood did not protest.
His ulcers had flared up, and the pain was excruciating.
As Hood was helped away Eisenhower reflected on the workload and strain upon his staff, and for the first time he really noticed the haggard and drawn faces of those whose day consisted of work and work, punctuated by a few hours sleep, if they were lucky.
‘Didn’t Thomas warn me about that? Must do something about it.’
Bedell-Smith interrupted his thoughts.
“Sir?”
“Continue, Walt.”
“At this time, four main thrusts have been highlighted.”
Using the pointer, the CoS started from the top.
“Here, in the area of their First Baltic Front, we have extreme pressure on the British. The attack is already into the outskirts of Bremen. Information just in from intelligence indicates that the Soviets have greatly reinforced here specifically, and 1st Baltic in general.”
The pointer described a line that extended beyond the Allied front line.
“Our expectation is that the general attacks will stop soon, and that their resources will be channelled into these four assaults. Firstly this one, through Bremen, heading south-west, and into the Netherlands, via the North German plain.”
Reports from McCreery already indicated that his front was buckling.
“Secondly, the First Red Banner Front seems to be threatening a drive into the Ruhr, from the direction of Osnabruck.”
A quick sip of water and Bedell-Smith continued, moving the pointer expansively over a key area.
“Their Second Red Banner Front seems also to have been heavily reinforced, and they are shaping to attack to the south of the Ruhr.”
The pointer did a rapid circular movement, describing a military situation that was a nightmare for all Commanders.
“It is possibly an attempt at an encirclement manoeuvre, combined with the First Red Banner, aimed at creating another Ruhr pocket.”
Bedell-Smith referred to the Allies’ own encirclement of the German Army earlier in the year, which resulted in vast numbers of men being made prisoner, and huge stocks of equipment being captured.
“General Bradley is expecting that the fall-back to the Rhine will now be forced upon us, despite the order to hold as much German soil as possible.”
Von Vietinghoff looked pale and tired, the ramifications of this latest Soviet offensive obviously extreme for his country.
The German Army was paying a high price in the defence of what was left, and that was shrinking on an hourly basis.
“Finally here, where we think the Third Red Banner Front will strike for the Rhine, and attempt to force its way into France, either through Freiburg or Strasbourg. We are a little hazy on that one at the moment Sir.”
Eisenhower nodded his understanding.
“In each of these areas, our intelligence assets have identified units previously held in the general reserve or high command reserve, the latter of which tend to be committed only to important missions.”
The question had to be asked.
“The Alps and Italy?”
“Not at this time, Sir. Although, as we recently discovered, there is a large grouping of enemy units in Bavaria presently untasked.”
Since Patton had made the suggestion, the enemy units had not moved an inch.
“Their supply situation?”
“That seems to have improved a little, Sir. They have tightened up on rear-line security, and have had some increased success against the irregular German forces, and other partisan groups.”
“How are they on equipment now?”
“Intelligence still suggests that they are light in a number of key areas. Signals and engineering equipment being the main two, although latest contact reports indicate more of the older T-34 tanks in combat than expected.”
Eisenhower lit a cigarette from a dying butt, declining Tedder’s offer of a lighter.
He took a deep draw before posing his final question.
“Manpower?”
“On that point, there is an element of uncertainty, Sir. General?”
Bedell-Smith stepped aside, ceding the briefing position to Kenneth Strong, the intelligence chief.
“Sir, I have received reports that there has been a reversal in the Soviet’s policy regarding their POW’s.”
A door slammed, snatched from the grasp of an orderly, provoked by a sudden gust of autumnal wind rushing through the room. The unfortunate sergeant who was deemed responsible, suddenly found himself under the direct gaze of a number of annoyed generals.
He beat a hasty retreat, careful not to repeat his error.
“Go on, Sir Kenneth.”
“Sir, it seems that the Soviet High Command has relented, and has now started to integrate the qualified personnel into existing units, or form new ones in their own right. Other prisoners are being employed in the most dangerous areas, mainly as infantry, or mine clearing details.”
Everyone present started to process the information, but it was Eisenhower who spoke first.
‘Why they didn’t do this before beats me, but then the commies play by their own rules.’
“Sir, I believe this decision will increase the combat efficiency of their qualified units across the board, in the same way that using our own released POW’s has bolstered our capability.”
The telephone rang.
A staff Major picked it up.
“Yes, Sir.”
He offered the receiver to Eisenhower.
“General Bradley, Sir.”
Ike took the receiver, exchanging a serious look with his Chief of Staff.
“Eisenhower.”
He was silent, listening, assessing, and realising the weight of the news.
The horror was apparent on his face, causing both Bedell-Smith and Strong to strain their ears towards the telephone receiver, its buzzing distinctly illustrating the concerns of the 12th Army Group Commander.
‘Dear God.’
”Are you positive, Brad?”
Ike took a deep drag of calming smoke.
“I’ll send what I can, but you must hold. I repeat, you must hold, Brad.”
Eisenhower closed his eyes, imagining the horrors being visited upon Bradley’s command, the voice in his ear reinforcing the mental images.
Ike shook his head at the distant Bradley.
“No, no, no. We’re not ready yet, General.”
To the listeners, it was clear that the commander of 12th Army Group pushed even harder.
Eisenhower shook his head once more, this time at Bedell-Smith
“No, I will not give that order, General. We need the fighting room, and the Rhine is not yet ready. Plus, General Strong has come up with Intel that suggests their engineers may no longer be as weak as we hoped.”
Very obviously, that statement was not well received.
Eisenhower’s voice and approach softened back to its normal level, having momentarily risen in the face of Bradley’s insistent pleas.