“So this meeting now constitutes the finalization of the attack?”
“Guess so, Alan. We have to start somewhere. So let’s get into it — let’s hit these commie bastards hard…one for the Schaeffer, right?”
“One for the Schaeffer it is, Arnie.” General Scannell was not smiling.
Admiral Morgan pulled up a big computerized chart on a wide screen at the end of his office…. “Come on over here, guys,” he said, striding forward. “Let’s take a good look at the position.”
The chart showed the vast delta area between the port of Rangoon and the coastal mouth of the Bassein River, 125 miles to the west. This is the fabulous rice bowl of Burma, interlaced by rivers, streams, canals and tributaries, which irrigate millions of acres of farmland. Through here the mighty 1,350-mile-long Irrawaddy River (today it’s Ayeyarwady) splits and meanders to the ocean, packed with freshwater fish and monsoon waters that originated hundreds of miles to the north toward the Indian and Chinese borders.
It is a sprawling, wet tidal basin, with great promontories of land jutting out between the estuaries of nine rivers, all of which flow into the hot, steamy corner of the Bay of Bengal known as the Gulf of Martaban. The agricultural produce from here feeds much of the nation and much of China, too. The endless paddy fields are interrupted by mango swamps and the occasional monsoon forest, but this land is F-L-A-T.
Admiral Morgan frowned and pointed his ruler at the far left section of the chart. “This last wide stretch of water right here,” he said, “is the Bassein River Delta. It’s the widest of the south-flowing waters in this area, and you’ll see that this island, the long triangle, here, on the left-hand side of the estuary, is called Haing Gyi. You will also notice that the goddamned place sits in about six inches of water, which is a pretty fucking crazy area to build a Navy base on, even if you happen to be a Chinese prick.”
General Scannell came very close to blowing his coffee clean down his nose, so unexpected was Arnold’s swift turn of phrase. But he moved in closer, and observed the wide area of green swamp that stretched all the way along the northern shoreline of Haing Gyi, almost joining it to the Arakan Peninsula.
“Well, we ain’t going in that way,” he said, unnecessarily. “And what about this light blue area that stretches right across the southern approach?”
“Oh, it’s much better in there,” said the Admiral, sardonically. “There is a maximum of nine feet shelving to about nine inches…and on the face of it, gentlemen, we have to assume the Chinese are nuts.”
But his face relaxed, and he continued, “But nuts they ain’t. This is a very strategic corner of the ocean. As we have discussed before, warships from here have the capability of controlling the Malacca Strait. And if I pull up this chart a bit, get us in closer, you’ll see what the little bastards are up to….
“Right here, in this central stretch of the island’s east coast, we got water…. See? More than forty feet right up to the shore…and it stretches out here into what looks like a natural, but narrow, channel, all the way up from the mouth of the estuary, minimum depth forty feet, maximum fifty-five feet.
“However, if you follow it down here…about four miles, the whole damn place goes shallow again…so if you’re trying to get in from the ocean, you got a ten-mile stretch with only twenty feet of water. Which you’d think would be impossible. Right here we got a deepish water throughway into deepish water jetties. But you cannot get a big ship in there.
“But, I know they can…because I happen to have located, on a very poor photograph, a Chinese Kilo-Class submarine, right in there, moored alongside. And that little bastard draws thirty-five feet on the surface, and they didn’t carry the sucker in, did they?”
“Probably not,” replied Admiral Dixon with mock seriousness.
“What they’ve done is dredged a channel, which does not appear on any Navy charts,” said Admiral Morgan. “And what’s more, it isn’t going to appear on any Naval charts, because they’re not about to allow anyone in there. There’s been a major building program by the Chinese on that eastern shore, and they have a very neat little situation — a fully equipped Naval dockyard, right in an area where there are very few other facilities for over-hauling a ship or even refueling. And they got it all to themselves, and they’re going to be an even bigger pain in the ass than usual if we do not, gentlemen, get ’em the fuck out of there ASAP.”
“What do they use for power?” asked the CNO.
“I’m not absolutely certain, but Lieutenant Ramshawe’s on the case. And I appreciate the question. That island is in a remote place, and it’s difficult to see what they are using. But the area is well lit and plainly operational. It’s possible they are using the reactor of a nuclear submarine, but we can’t find it. And the water is not deep enough for it to hide. Ramshawe thinks they have a major power plant, but we can’t yet tell the source. Anyway, when we do, I think we should destroy it…. Gentlemen, we have to get them outta there.”
“Do you think China has a major single objective in all of this, Arnie?” Bob MacPherson looked pensive.
“I think it’s pure expansion, Bob. For so many years they’ve restricted themselves to their own area of the world, which ought to be big enough for anyone. But they increasingly see themselves as powerful global players. They are envious of us, and see themselves as our equals. They covet our influence, our allies and, above all, our muscle.
“But what they really covet is the world’s oil supplies. Because as China gets rich, it’s going to require more and more fuel. And most of that fuel is in the Middle East and south central Asia. Of course there’s a ton of it in Siberia, but that means negotiating with Russia, which is not about to trade away one of its very few natural resources.
“Which brings us back to the Malacca Strait, the single great throughway of all oil to the Far East. If we allow China to dominate the Malacca, we give them the power to force some tankers right around Indonesia, and that’s going to cost the Japanese a vast amount of money. All their fuel costs will rocket upward, natural gas, propane, jet fuel and gasoline.
“And the key to China’s domination of that strait is their new base in Burma. Without it, they’re damn near helpless, because they simply live too far away. And, gentlemen, right now we have world opinion on our side. We can force them right out of the Bassein River Delta, and no one would support any of their claims of U.S. bullying. That’s what we’re going to do.”
“Anyway, who’s to know what happened if the SEALs pull it off?” asked the CNO.
“China will know, because we’ll fucking tell ’em. But they have made the mistake of striking the first blow against the West with that minefield in Hormuz. And then literally conquering Taiwan. Everyone knows they deserve whatever the hell’s coming to them. And my guess is that if we hit Haing Gyi, the ole Chinks are going to go real quiet for several years.”
“Meanwhile how the hell do we get in there to hit it?” asked Bob MacPherson. “And since we’re going to tell them what we’ve done, what’s wrong with just bombing the sonofabitches?”
“The USA does not bomb people, without a drastic and just reason,” replied Admiral Morgan. “However we may justify an attack on China’s Indian Ocean east base, it is no more than a power play — the superpower bangs the pretender into his rightful place. Second place.
“But it’s so much better that the guy with the busted nose is the only one aware of who’s whacked him. That way it goes quiet. Some accident, on some remote island, in the Bay of Bengal. That’s the way to run the world these days. Keep it quiet, keep it tight, but make it count.”