Suddenly, to their west, on the furthest point of the apron, an IL-76D, a four-engined, strategic-airlift aircraft was trundling towards the head of the runway, the whine and power of the engines moving it into a position ready for take-off. It swivelled round, its nose pointing east into a fairly gentle wind, the four engines building up power until all were screaming, the hefty wheel brakes barely able to hold it in check. Finally, the plane was given permission to take off, the brakes released, and the engines reaching an even higher pitch as they thrust backwards, pushing the aircraft and its maximum take-off weight of nearly 200 tons at a rapidly increasing speed down the runway. The airborne officers watched as it got closer, mesmerised by its power as it rushed down the runway that was laid out in front of them. It was a beast of a plane with its high-mounted, swept-back wings, tapering to blunt tips, four turbo-fan engines mounted on underwing pylons throbbing as they propelled the aircraft faster and faster down the runway. The sound ever louder from the engines as the high-mounted, T-shaped tail fin shot past them. With the pilot ordering rotate, the front four tyres slowly left the ground followed soon after by the remaining sixteen low-pressure tyres beneath the main body as it slowly took to the air, the sound diminishing as it flew east, eventually banking west, taking its cargo to a destination somewhere in East Germany.
“God, they’re even more bloody noisy outside than they are when you’re inside!” Lieutenant Colonel Stanislav Yezhov, battalion commander of one of the BMD assault battalions of the 108th Guards Airborne Regiment, laughed.
The BMD they were perched on was one of at least thirty lined up on the spare ground that ran along the far end of the runway to their south. The second battalion, which also had these specialist infantry combat vehicles, had theirs lined up at the opposite end of the runway, closer to the airport buildings. The apron was overcrowded with Mi-8 Hip, Mi-6 Hook and Mi-26 Halo helicopters, and were now being joined by AN-12 Cubs and IL-76 Candid transport aircraft. The entire airport was overcrowded and buzzing with activity as the full regiment prepared to move to, as yet, an unknown location.
“Still moving out at 0400 tomorrow, sir?” asked Yezhov.
Colonel Boykov thought for a moment, his mind suddenly occupied with the forthcoming plans to deploy his regiment. He just couldn’t figure out what was going on. There was a large Soviet exercise, the largest ever, in progress and yet they were not involved. Live ammunition, along with other essential supplies, had been flooding into the camp at Kaunas for over a week now. A veteran of Afghanistan where he had commanded company and battalion-sized operations against Afghan resistance, everything he was observing now smacked of getting ready to go into battle. But with whom? It didn’t make sense. The fifteen air assault brigades and numerous airborne divisions, his included, had been honed into effective, deep-penetrating, powerful shock-forces; something they had practised for real in Afghanistan. In a conventional war, they had specific tasks to fulficlass="underline" to destroy the enemy’s nuclear capability, destroy or neutralise surface-to-air missile sites, disrupt logistics and lines of communication, and, more importantly, seize airfields, bridgeheads and key terrain. In effect, to maintain a clear passage for an operational manoeuvre group operating deep into an enemy’s rear defences. They were good at it.
But at the forefront of Colonel Viktor Boykov’s mind was where. And why? “Yes, Stani, 0400. Our vehicles will be airlifted to our destination, as will we. The main body of helicopter and airlift regiments will join us at Cochstedt. There will be a briefing the following day and all will be revealed.”
“And the HQ elements?”
“I thought about assigning Hips, but the thought of being stuck in one of those things on a long trip…”
“Thank God, sir. We’d die of cramp and end up completely deaf.”
“We’ll fly with the Candids.” Boykov said with a smile.
“If you’ll excuse me then, sir, I would like to make some last-minute checks on my unit. I don’t want you bollocking me for not being ready.”
“Knowing you, Stani, your men will be poised and ready to move. But, you might want to give some of your comrades a nudge. I will be doing my rounds later and I expect them to be tight on this one.”
Yezhov slid down the front of the BMD and onto the ground, and turned and looked up at his regimental commander. “You look worried, sir.”
“Not worried,” Boykov said thoughtfully. “Just can’t shake off the feeling that something big is coming our way.”
“Your instincts have never let you down, sir, but on this occasion?” Yezhov laughed, saluted and strode across the hard ground to another section of BMDs to talk with his men. He could see them in the distance, tying down bits of equipment on the rear decks and packing what personal kit they could in the small compartment in the back, leaving them relatively baggage-free for the flight tomorrow — apart from, of course, their personal weapons: the AK74 with its collapsible stock. Some crews would remain behind to drive the BMDs on and off the aircraft.
Viktor Boykov watched the officer walk away then looked west towards the airport, now bristling with activity. He too dropped down from the top of the BMD and walked towards the airport buildings, heading towards his other battalions to check on preparations being made. He stopped suddenly, reflecting on what Stanislav had said. You’re wrong, Stani, he said to himself. You’re wrong.
Chapter 15
The green three-litre Senator moved steadily down the track, its strengthened suspension coping well with the ruts and grooves that had been carved into the ground by the passage of Soviet armoured and wheeled military vehicles. The driver steered the military-mission vehicle off the track and into the widely spaced trees of the forest, picking his way through until they reached the edge and overlooked the clearing that was their ultimate destination. They were in the permanently restricted area that encompassed Templin, a Soviet training area. Regularly used by Soviet armoured units for training of tank crews and small unit exercises, it was a stopping-off point for the military-mission officers in their quest to acquire photographs of the latest Soviet kit and, if possible, get inside one of their latest main battle tanks. As a consequence of Exercise Hammer 84, the Soviets had expanded the restricted area, enforcing a temporary restricted zone that made it even more difficult for the mission crews to get in close.
After the establishment of the four Allied zones-of-control following the fall of Germany at the end of World War Two, the exchange of military missions was introduced to effect liaison between the Western Allies and the Soviet Union. This agreement allowed members of a military mission to travel freely throughout the Soviet sector of Germany: the German Democratic Republic. Some areas were restricted on a permanent basis, with temporary restricted areas being added during large exercises or troop movements.
The British Military-Mission (Brixmis) crew were on the last stage of their tour. They had been out for two days and were returning to their headquarters in West Berlin once they had completed this recce. They had been here before and knew that, on the other side of the forest they were now driving through, there was a clearing often used by the Soviet Army. The tour commander, Staff Sergeant William Rawlings, a member of the British Army’s Intelligence Corps, indicated for the driver to slow down as they approached the edge of the forest. It was just after four in the morning, just dark enough to make a covert entry into the restricted area, but light enough that they would be able to observe any activity underway.