As long as he had a say, however, Russia would keep everything.
Andropov gave the order. “Advance to the Vistula and Siret Rivers and the Carpathian Mountains.”
49
KIEV, UKRAINE
Kiev, the capital of Ukraine, is the largest city in the country and seventh most populous in Europe. Although many Ukrainians view Russia favorably and one-eighth of the population believe Ukraine and Russia should unite into a single state, the inhabitants of Kiev are more pro-Western. The city was primary site of the Euromaidan protests, which railed against government corruption and advocated for closer ties to the European Union rather than Russia. The protests led to the 2014 Ukrainian revolution, during which President Viktor Yanukovych’s Russian-leaning administration was replaced with a pro-Western government.
In his temporary headquarters overlooking the Dnieper River, which cut through the center of Kiev, Lieutenant General Dmitry Sokolov, commander of Russia’s 4th Guards Tank Division, reviewed the map on his conference room table, scrutinizing his unit’s defensive positions along the river’s east bank. He found it odd that a tank division would be assigned to such a dense metropolitan area. Armor was ill-suited for urban warfare, as the Germans learned in World War II after sending panzer divisions into Stalingrad. However, there was no better symbol of Russian military might than 4th Guards Tank Division columns entering the Ukrainian capital.
In addition to stationing an armored division in a major metropolis, Sokolov also found it odd that none of the bridges across the river were being wired with explosives. If NATO or the United States attempted to liberate Ukraine by force, Russia would destroy the bridges. However, with fifteen intact bridges spanning the river in Kiev, there was no better place for 4th Guards Tank Division if a march farther west was ordered.
Sokolov’s adjutant knocked on the conference room door, then entered carrying a red folder. Sokolov read the message inside. His instinct had been correct; his division’s brief stay in Kiev had come to a close. They’d been ordered into southeast Poland, tasked with seizing the main transportation hub of Rzeszów. He read the message further. The entire 1st Guards Tank Army had been assigned to take and hold southeast Poland.
A quick glance at the map explained everything. The Vistula River ran south from the Baltic Sea almost to the Carpathian Mountains, with the two geographic features forming a natural defensive line across Europe. The area in the center, near Rzeszów, was open terrain. If NATO launched an offensive, it would likely occur there, which meant the 4th Guards Tank Division would meet its nemesis, America’s 1st Armored Division—Old Ironsides.
Sokolov looked forward to the challenge.
50
FORT BLISS, TEXAS
Major General Dutch Hostler, commanding officer of 1st Armored Division, stepped from his office, looking calmly around the hectic headquarters building. His staff was busy on the phones, typing rapidly on their computers, reviewing and signing paperwork, and entering and exiting the building at a brisk pace. He folded his arms and leaned against the doorway. They were polishing the cannonball. 1st Armored Division’s preparations to date were good enough, and additional efforts would have no impact on the outcome. Whether you fired a polished or unpolished cannonball made no difference.
However, Hostler took pride in his staff as they attended to the final details of their transport to Europe. All personnel had been recalled; the tanks, armored personnel carriers, artillery, and other vehicles had been fueled, and supplies had been containerized. Transport ships were already docked or en route to the five largest Texas ports, where 1st Armored Division would embark. All that remained was the final order, and Old Ironsides’ twenty thousand vehicles and supply containers would be on the move.
Captain Kurt Wise, Hostler’s aide, emerged from the communications center carrying a message folder. He handed the message to Hostler, who read the directive. The orders they’d been waiting for had finally arrived.
“Inform all brigades,” Hostler said. “We’re moving out.”
51
CASTEAU, BELGIUM
Five levels underground, the commander of NATO’s military force, U.S. Army General Andy Wheeler, stood at the back of the command center, examining the video screens mounted on the front wall. Located just north of Mons, SHAPE — Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe — is the headquarters of NATO’s Allied Command Operations. The lighting in the command center was dim so personnel could more easily study the video screens, each displaying a different section of Europe. The maps were annotated with symbols of various colors and designs, each representing a NATO or non-Alliance combat unit — armor, mechanized infantry, artillery, and air defense, to name a few. The red units were on the move.
It had started an hour ago. Russian units digging in on the east bank of the Dnieper River had suddenly surged forward, pouring across the bridges into Western Ukraine. Likewise to the north; the Russian brigades in Lithuania had left their fortified positions behind, moving into Poland. Wheeler searched for the symbols representing Russia’s 1st Guards Tank Army, their premier fighting unit. They were in Northern Ukraine, swinging up toward Poland, where they’d connect with the Russian forces heading southwest from Lithuania.
NATO was in no condition to oppose the Russian advance. Throughout NATO, Wheeler had only a dozen brigades ready for combat. In comparison, the Russians had fifty-two. All told, a quarter-million Russian troops were heading west.
There would be no resistance in Western Ukraine, nor in Poland since the Polish Army was still mobilizing. However, even when fully combat ready, Polish forces would total only one-third of the Russian troops advancing into Poland. Without a united, coordinated NATO response, resistance was pointless. To date, the NATO resolution authorizing military force had stalled in the council, and American forces were frozen at their stateside bases. Without the full commitment of the United States and the rest of NATO, repulsing a quarter-million Russian ground troops was impossible.
Retreat was the only option for now, trading land for time. A critical question Wheeler had no answer to was — how far would the Russians advance? Would they stop at the Vistula River? The Oder? Or continue into Germany? The Vistula seemed the most likely for now, as advancing farther west would result in less-defensible terrain and strain the Russian Army’s supply lines, which would be vulnerable to insurgent resistance within the occupied territory. Just in case, the Polish Army was wiring the bridges across the Vistula River with explosives, hoping to slow Russia’s advance. The bridges had to remain intact for now, providing a retreat path for Polish forces still in the eastern region of the country.
Wheeler needed clarity. What was Russia’s objective? When would the United States join the conflict? How long before sufficient NATO units were combat ready?
A display on the far wall updated, and Wheeler shifted his attention to a map of Western Europe, where new blue symbols appeared, marking the arrival points for U.S. Army divisions. That was good news in what had otherwise been a gloomy day. It would take a while to complete the transit, but American forces were finally on their way.