Area 8, normally quiet and unused, clicked and chattered as exchange lights lit up on the GPO telephone exchange. A thirteen-metre long, fourteen-position unit, dedicated primarily to international communications, was ready for use. Just four operators were working there at this time. Close by was a smaller supervisors’ and directory enquiries’ desk, the four-metre shelf above it lined with the latest telephone directories.
“Yes, Lawrence, you can have your trains,” informed the Home Secretary.
“For the movement of reinforcements, I take it?”
“Yes, Prime Minister. We have commandeered the majority of the channel ferries to transport the heavy equipment, and some troops naturally, but we will need the rail network to get them to the ports.”
“Air?”
“Yes. All civilian aircraft are about to be grounded, and we will start to use them to get our troops into theatre.”
“Numbers?” the PM asked.
“Providing they can fly to the Continent unhindered, initially five thousand a day, with most of their immediate personal equipment.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
The Defence Secretary twisted in his chair before answering the question. “If we could move all our reinforcements by air, our full complement of initial reinforcements would be there in a matter of a few days. But, they would be without some of their equipment. Without transport, supplies and ammunition, they would be more of a handicap than help. The priority has to be 24th Airmobile Brigade and the infantry brigades for the 2nd Infantry Division. They are the reserves. Also, they will guard 1 Br Corps rear area.”
There was a rap on the door, and one of the PM’s aides poked his head around the jamb of the door. “It’s time, Prime Minister.”
“Of course. Thank you. Lawrence, be so good as to turn the television on.”
“It’s time, then?”
“Yes, Jeremy. Once the American President has made his speech, the cat will be well and truly out of the bag.”
The one-and-a-half metre TV screen came to life, and the camera in the airborne Oval Office zoomed in on the American President, sitting with his arms on a small desk, fingers interlocked, the US and President’s flags behind him. He looked directly at the camera lens.
“My fellow Americans. Tonight I am talking to you from Air-Force-One. It is with a heavy heart that I have to give you the following news. As I speak to you now, the forces of evil are lining up along the Inner German Border. They are intent on only one thing: to crush the country of free West Germany, to place it in manacles, to deny the German people their freedom. As a consequence, relations between the Soviet Union and the free West is deteriorating rapidly and, unless the Warsaw Pact take this opportunity to withdraw its forces that threaten a peaceful nation, a confrontation between NATO and the Warsaw PACT is inevitable.
“To quote the famous British Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchilclass="underline" ‘I cannot forecast to you the action of Russia. It is a riddle, wrapped in mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key. That key is Russian national interest.’
“I appeal to the Soviet Union and its people: do not put your national interest at the forefront of everything else. To enhance your position in the world should be by your own endeavours, not by trying to subjugate peaceful countries by force. Democracy will always prevail.
“I have spoken with the other leaders of the NATO forces whose troops are at this very moment lined up in defence along the borders of the Federal Republic of Germany. As one, we will not allow the Soviet Union to flex its military muscle and enslave us. We Americans would prefer death to having our liberty taken away from us.
My message to the leader of the Soviet Politburo is: we will not sit idle while you believe you can walk over us with military force. We will fight back with such ferocity that you will rue the day the idea ever crossed your mind.
I plead with you. Turn back from this dangerous path, withdraw your forces and NATO will withdraw theirs. Then, at a table of peace, we can air our differences.
To the American people, be strong. We will prevail.”
The American national anthem started to play, and the Home Secretary got up and turned off the television. “Well, the cat is now out of the bag.”
“Your speech complete, Prime Minister?”
Harriet Willis nodded her head slowly. “Yes. It will be the hardest speech I have ever had to make. So many people, so many soldiers, on both sides, are going to die if the Soviets complete what they have set out to do.”
“If it goes nuclear then all will lose,” added the Defence Secretary. “Everything is in place, Prime Minister. Our nuclear fleet are at sea, our V-Bombers are on standby. All we can do now is wait.”
“When do the BBC start with their Civil Defence announcements?” asked the PM.
“As soon as your speech has gone out,” responded the Home Secretary.
She turned to the Defence Secretary. “What indications are we getting of the Soviet movements so far?”
“The sensors, laid by Brixmis military liaison missions, are indicating heavy movement by Soviet forces, and the Berlin Section has reported heavy rail movement. The opinion of MOD is that troops and equipment from the Soviet Military Districts are being brought forward. The Baltic, Belorussian, Carpathian and Kiev MDs. But also Polish and East German divisions are on the move. That has to mean they’re serious and intend to go through with it.”
“What about the border?”
“Our electronic warfare units are picking up nothing. The Soviets are maintaining strict radio silence. The western TVD have—”
“TVD?”
“The Soviet Western Theatre of Command, Prime Minister. There’s been significant investment in their command and control structure. We believe there to be several hundred hardened bunkered command posts and communications centres. We also know they have been practising crash-outs, similar to our Active Edge, with complete radio silence, and have proven quite successful at doing so.”
There was a knock at the door and the same aide entered. “They’re ready for you for a dry run, Prime Minister.”
“I’ll be right there,” she answered. “Well, gentlemen, let me know when the rest of COBRA arrive. In the meantime, I shall go for a practice run of my speech.”
Chapter 20
The four men patrolled through the small copse, west of the small village of Aligse, north-west of Lehrte and about eight-kilometres east of Hanover, the patrol leader knowing exactly where to take them. They had been here before, a number of times, on exercise, practising their craft, honing their skills in preparation for when the day came and they would have to do it for real. It was two in the morning on 3 July. They had been on the move for the last two hours, having been dropped off covertly some eight-kilometres away to the north. The ground was quite dry and soft, even spongy, although very overgrown in places, that would make it difficult for vehicles to enter. This will help reduce our signature, thought the patrol leader.
The troop stepped carefully, placing their feet with as much precision as possible to keep any sound they made to a minimum. It was highly unlikely that anyone would be around at this time in the morning. Although tired after the four-hour flight from Britain to Hanover, waiting around at the airport prior to the flight, then trucked to Braunschweig where they had a chance to sort their kit out, they were still alert. They had been briefed that sleeper agents were believed to be operating in the area, watching for activity such as theirs. A civilian van then drove them to a position north of a copse where they were dropped off in the darkness to make the rest of the way under their own steam. Although the adrenalin was still ploughing through their veins, driven by the anticipation of their mission, finally doing for real what they had been training for for the last five years, but not without a little sprinkling of fear, they would be ready for a breather on arrival at the patrol’s destination.