by James Rosone
As the AT-6s turned for home, several Indian MiGs swooped in and managed to down four of the Wolverines before a pair of Japanese F-15Js shot them down and covered the withdrawal of the remaining ground-attack planes.
Once the Air Force had hit the Indians, General Jackson sent a message to his hidden tank battalions that it was time to swing the gate shut on their pincer movement and finish the enemy off. It was time to stop retreating and stand and fight.
The following three hours were complete chaos as nearly 320 American tanks and three times that many Indian tanks fought it out on the fields of Siberia in what was probably the largest tank battle of the war in Asia. The American AT-6s returned several more times, adding their own carnage and so did several dozen Indian Jaguars and MiGs. As the day turned to evening, the battle continued, only it turned decisively in the favor of the Americans whose tanks were better equipped to fight in the dark and had trained extensively in this type of environment. The lone squadron of Apache helicopters General Jackson had also torn into the remaining enemy vehicles, using their specially equipped night and thermal targeting equipment.
By the time the sun came up the following morning, the Indian armored force that had been the tip of the spear the previous day now lay as a burning graveyard strewn across the nearly 400 square-mile battlefield. It was the single greatest combat loss the Indian Army had ever experienced up to that point. More than a thousand tanks and another two thousand armored vehicles had been destroyed. Over five thousand Indian soldiers had been killed, while another seven thousand had been captured.
With the defeat of five Indian armor divisions at the hands of the US 4th AD, General Wilde’s First Army Group was quickly able to encircle the remaining Indian Army group and tighten his noose on the enemy force.
*******
Captain McRae rubbed his hand across the front armor of the turret, noticing the dents and gashes from hits they’d taken the day before. By all accounts, he and his crew should be dead. Their tank had been hit no less than three times, but their armor had held. Unfortunately, not all of the other tankers in his company had fared as well, and many of his fellow comrades in arms had died.
“Why did I live when so many of my soldiers did not?” he asked himself. He wiped away a tear. Suddenly overtaken by emotion, he sank to his knees on top of the turret.
Sergeant Justin Spence walked around to the front of the tank, and they locked eyes for a brief moment. When Captain McRae realized that someone had seen him cry, he wiped away his tears and pulled himself up.
“It’s OK, Sir,” said Spence. “We’ve all thought the same thing. Why were we so lucky to live when so many died?” It was as if he was reading his captain’s mind.
McRae nodded. “We were hit three times. How did we survive? I lost seven of my ten tanks and one of my five Bradleys yesterday—men we’ve known in many cases for years. How do I explain to their families that we lived, and they died, Spence?”
"Sir, I know it’s tough, but Charlie is still here, and Charlie don't surf!" said Sergeant Spence.
Captain McRae smiled slightly when Sergeant Spence mentioned the unofficial company's motto.
"Yeah, Charlie don't surf, but Charlie can fight and die...," McRae mumbled to himself.
A second later, the radio inside the turret crackled to life. “Charlie Six, this is Cowboy-Six.” Shaking off the moment of sadness, Captain McRae reached down inside the commander’s hatch for his CVC.
“This is Charlie Six. Go ahead Cowboy Six,” he said in reply to his battalion commander’s call.
“I need your tanks to return to the rear area and resupply. Come see me when you get here. Out.”
Captain McRae put down the radio with a bit of a grunt. “Great, that’s all I need,” he said, muttering to himself. “Go see the battalion commander—he’s probably going to chew my butt off over the loss of more than half of my command.”
Looking at the rest of his crew, McRae announced, “Saddle up, boys. We’re headed to the rear with the gear.”
The others nodded and climbed back in. His driver, Private Edgar Doppler, started the tank up and moved toward the rear of the American positions. The remaining three tanks and four Bradleys of his company followed as they made their way back. While driving down the road, they drove past hundreds of Allied vehicles that had not participated in the battle yet. Many of the crewmen who were standing in their turrets looked at them in amazement, seeing the battle scars on their tanks. Several of the officers and NCOs rendered salutes out of respect. A column of Type 90 Japanese tanks passed them on their way to the front; the officer standing in his turret even bowed as they passed.
It was strange seeing so many of their own countrymen and allies rendering them respect like this, with the rumblings of war still audible in the distance. These men were heading into the battle, while Captain McRae and his men were leaving it.
Nearly an hour later, their ragtag group of tanks made it back to the marshaling area their battalion had set up in. When Charlie Company pulled in, they saw that Alpha and Bravo Companies had taken some losses as well, though not quite as bad as McRae’s unit. When the tank was finally parked, and he checked to ensure what was left of Charlie Company was set in their portion of the battalion's assembly area, Captain McRae made his way to find the battalion CO. It took him a few minutes to find the CO’s tank and command vehicles. Once he did, he saw the other company commanders were present as well.
“Ah, there you are, Captain McRae,” said Lieutenant Colonel Lewis. “I was hoping you hadn’t gotten lost on the way back here. I was about to debrief you all on the battle and what brigade has planned for us next.” He walked up to McRae, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him toward the map board he had hanging by some five-fifty cord from the tent walls.
Once he had ushered McRae further into the room, Lewis cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “First off, I want to acknowledge the horrible losses most of you guys suffered yesterday—especially you, Captain McRae. I know Charlie Company took the brunt of the battalion losses and saw the most combat. Your tanks were the tip of the spear for the entire division, and you guys performed marvelously. Your crews performed so well, in fact, that General Jackson wants to meet your men personally and award your crews some valor medals…but we’ll discuss that more later,” Colonel Lewis said, trying to acknowledge the men’s losses but also making sure they knew the battle was not over just yet.
Before anyone else could ask any questions or get sidetracked on anything, Colonel Lewis continued. “When the battle began yesterday, we had no idea how hard or how well the Indians would fight. America’s never faced off against the Indian Army, so they were a complete wild card. They showed themselves to be incredibly aggressive and proficient in their weapon systems, even if they are outdated. That said, General Wilde has stated the Indians aren’t ready to give up the fight just yet. While the 4th AD continues to encircle the Indian 4th Army Group, the enemy is moving two divisions to our south in an attempt to try and force us to break our encirclement of their army group.”
Captain McRae raised his hand. “Sir, I lost 60% of my command, and nearly half of my remaining tanks and Bradleys have extensive battle damage. Shoot, my own tank took three hits, which tore large chunks out of our armor. What are they planning to do with our battalion after we took these heavy losses?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t just sunk his career. He felt that he had to ask for the sake of his remaining soldiers.
Lieutenant Colonel Lewis’ face fell. He seemed to be overcome with immense sadness. In a calm and reassuring voice, he replied, “I said as much to Brigade. They can’t take us off the line entirely, but they’re going to hold our battalion in reserve. What I need to know from you guys is how many of your tanks are combat effective, and how many have too much battle damage to continue to fight? I’m going to form a small task force of tanks combining those that are still combat effective to form our reserve force. The rest of you will serve in sup
port functions until your vehicles are ready.”
Everyone nodded. Once they had tallied up the tanks that could still fight, they had roughly twelve tanks out of the original thirty-six that were still battle-ready.
The battle in Siberia raged on for another five days before the remnants of the Indian Army withdrew back to Irkutsk to lick their wounds, and to figure out what to do next. With the battle of Siberia largely over, the US First Army Group now turned its attention to Mongolia and the liberation of Ulaanbaatar, the capital of the country. With little in the way of Chinese forces in the area, the capture of Ulaanbaatar wouldn’t take long, and the liberation of Mongolia would have the immediate effect of cutting off access to the mineral-rich mines the Chinese factories desperately needed.
The Resistance
South Kingstown, Rhode Island
Peace Dale Shooting Preserve
“Slowly let your breath out and then hold it. Then gently squeeze the trigger,” the shooting instructor said calmly as George Philips applied pressure to the trigger.
Bang!
The round hit center mass. “Excellent shot, George!” his instructor said.
Smiling, George felt good about the hit. “Finally,” said George with a sigh of relief. “Now I just need to consistently hit the target like that.”
The instructor laughed at the comment. “You know, George, when you came here several months ago, you couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. Now you’re hitting targets 600 yards away. I think you’re more than ready for that corporate hunting trip this fall. No one is going to laugh at you because you can’t shoot,” he replied.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” George said as he ejected the spent casing out of the chamber and left the bolt open to show that the rifle was unloaded. Then he placed the Winchester Model 70 rifle on the ground and proceeded to get up.
“It helps that you have an excellent optical sight on that rifle,” George’s instructor commented. “That Trijicon Accupoint makes all the difference when shooting a target at the distances you guys will be shooting at. I personally love hunting elk out in South Dakota, but man, are they long shots.”
“This is going to be my first hunt,” George admitted. “Who knows if I’ll even see an elk? But at least if I do, I know I’ll be able to hit it. Thanks again for all your help; I’ll let you know how things go when I get back.” George extended his hand and shook his instructor’s hand before he finished packing his rifle and other belongings and headed to his car.
Secretly, George hated guns. Like many of his fellow Antifa activists, he was all for taking away people’s right to “bear arms.” However, he didn’t see any other course to stopping this fascist regime from waging their global war than to try and cut the head of the snake off. When George’s younger brother shipped off to the Pacific with the Marines, he suddenly felt a sense of urgency to do something.
Once George had decided on his course of action, he researched hunting and the types of rifles used by hunters when they were going to shoot something beyond 400 yards. His investigation led him to elk hunting. Then he looked into the types of rifles and optics used by those types of hunters. Next, George created a cover story for why he had developed a sudden interest in hunting. When he bought his rifle, he found a range that offered training on how to shoot a rifle and used this tall tale about a corporate hunting trip to make it all seem normal.
Every Saturday for the past three months, George had spent between two and four hours at the rifle range with his instructor. With each outing, George became better and more comfortable with the rifle. He even had to admit to himself that he was actually starting to understand why people enjoyed sport shooting. It was fun to hold an object that could reach out and kill something from so far away.
After placing his rifle back into its case, George closed the trunk, got into his vehicle and headed back to his apartment in Providence. Once home, he looked over the map of where the GOP rally was going to be held and felt confident that the Airbnb room he had rented would give him the best vantage point for what he was going to do. Now it was a matter of waiting until the appointed time.
“Hang in there, little brother,” he thought as he looked at a picture of his kid brother. “This war will end soon enough.”
*******
Aboard Air Force One
“Someone, please tell me what the heck is going on in Great Britain?” demanded the President.
Secretary of State Travis Johnson looked exhausted and haggard as he stared back at the President. He shook his head before responding, “I honestly don’t know, Sir. I think something is seriously wrong inside Prime Minister Chattem’s office. It was one thing for them to withdraw from the war and sue for a separate peace, but to try and intern our forces operating on the bases we’re leasing from them is going too far,” he replied.
Jim Castle, who was speaking to them through a secure video conference from the Pentagon, broke in to add, “This is ludicrous, Mr. President, and illegal. We have base rights to use those bases as we see fit. Furthermore, the United Kingdom had agreed to allow us to use those bases in defense of Europe. They cannot simply renege on the agreements!” he added angrily.
“They’ve already reneged on their treaty obligations with the Global Defense Force. Why should we expect them to honor our basing rights?” said the National Security Advisor in a snarky voice.
“I’m with Secretary Johnson on this one,” said Jedediah Perth, the Director of the CIA. He was also joining via teleconference. “I think there is more going on behind the scenes in 10 Downing Street than we are aware of. I have no proof, but a friend of mine who works for MI5 believes something is amiss with the PM. They’re currently looking into the situation, but right now, they say it’s completely out of character that he would be issuing this threat.”
Gates nodded. “JP, continue to look into this further,” he ordered. “Find out what’s going on. Maybe the Russians somehow got to Chattem and have him over a barrel. Something just isn’t right with what’s going on over there.”
“I’ve had more than a few generals reach out to me, Mr. President, saying the mood within the Ministry of Defense is rather foul,” Castle added. “While they wouldn’t openly talk about removing Chattem from power, there’s a lot of grumbles about what he’s doing. One of the generals—I won’t say his name—did say that if the PM was to order the MOD to intern our forces, they would not obey that order. He said they may have to cease fighting the Russians, but they won’t lift a finger to help the Russians defeat us or Europe.”
Leaning forward, the President put his head in his hands for a moment. “Gentlemen, we will have to come back to this…what is the status of our operations in Europe?”
Clearing his throat before beginning, Secretary Castle answered, “We’ve launched Operation Nordic Thunder. General Cotton’s forces are now pushing the Russians out of the Nordic countries. They’ve encountered resistance, but by and large, the Russians are giving ground without much of a fight. We anticipate that changing as we get closer to the actual Russian border.”
The President nodded.
Castle continued. “As to the Continent—the French, German and Polish armies are set to launch Operation Eisenadler, which means Iron Eagle. The name was agreed upon by the three countries, so we’re letting them run with it. While General Cotton is overseeing the operation, it’s largely being led by the Bundeswehr. The offensive will start in a week and will begin the liberation of Ukraine. We’re still hoping that Operation Strawman will ultimately succeed, and we won’t need to invade Russia directly.”
Sensing that he should provide some sort of update on the covert action to remove Petrov, JP jumped into the conversation. “We’re still moving forward in that direction. As you know, we’ve encountered a couple of recent problems, mainly with the withdrawal of the British from the war. Part of the operation was being run by MI6, who have been ordered home. The direct handling of Strawman is still being carried out by t
he Germans, while the digital arm and funding are being carried out by us. It’s hard to gain outside coverage of what’s going on inside Russia, but what’s managed to leak or get out has shown a lot of civil unrest among the population.”
“Do tell,” said the President.
“The majority of the civilians are still in support of the war, but they’re mad at how long it’s dragged out and how it’s negatively affecting their daily lives,” JP answered. “The shortages in fuel and food are having the desired effect, so we should keep that pressure on. What has caused a mixed reaction in the country right now is the arrival of the Indian troops. While India and Russia have always had a good working relationship politically and economically, this is the first time the average Russian has seen large numbers of Indian people inside Russia.”
JP took a swig of coffee before he continued. “Right now, the Indian Army is largely being deployed along the actual Russian border, as opposed to inside Ukraine or the Nordic States. They appear to be fortifying the border and building a series of defense-in-depth positions to force our troops to have to travel down specific routes they want us to. Secretary Castle can probably talk more about this angle than I can.”
Castle nodded. “If we can, Mr. President, I’d like to go over this with you during our next war update. My people are still putting together a detailed assessment of what they’re doing, and I think it would be prudent if I had that information present when I talk about it.”
The President grunted. “OK, then let’s talk about Asia. Bring me up to speed on what’s happening there,” he said.
