Initiative (The Red Gambit Series Book 6)

by Colin Gee

  The sister AM-class submarines, I-1 and I-14, had made it through to their destination, and they rendezvoused with their larger friends off the coast of Siberia, before, in pre-ordained order, they silently slipped into the facility concealed on the bay north-west of Sovetskaya Gavan.

  Although not a permanent structure, the Soviet engineers had dedicated their best efforts to developing it secretly, building it bit by bit, almost growing it as part of woods and modest rocky escarpments into which it blended perfectly.

  By 0312, the four Japanese submarines were safely ensconced in their berths. The single empty dock reminded the submariners of the absence of I-15, the silent water drawing more than one reluctant gaze for a former comrade, or, in two instances, in memory of a lost brother.

  The important Japanese technical personnel left hurriedly, their documents following swiftly in their wake.

  Half of the harvest from Okunoshima was unloaded, the general plan being that one half of the products of Japanese research and development of mass killing weapons would be taken by rail, the other half would move by submarine

  Everything had arrived at Sovetskaya Gavan without loss from air attack, something that had not been anticipated, and so the loading of the dastardly products of Units 731 and 516 would take much longer than had been expected.

  Vice-Admiral Shigeyoshi Miwa, the overall mission commander, arrived and was greeted by the temporary commander, Lieutenant Commander Nanbu Nobukiyo of the I-401.

  Pleasantries exchanged, the two occupied an office in the facility and, with the other submarine captains and their No 2s, explored the mission to the smallest degree, Miwa’s additional information contributing to a sense of excitement amongst the experienced submarine officers.

  Miwa introduced two new men, vital to the plan.

  The two naval personnel, equipped with the necessary language skills were quickly excused and transferred to I-401; one ensign with Greek ancestry and a Lieutenant Commander who had previously been an attaché in Ankara, although the officer had been invalided out of the Naval Air Service, blinded by some wasteful tropical disease contracted on Borneo.

  Their part in the plan would come much later.

  The presence of two emotional-less Kempai Tai officers and their men was considered unnecessary and provocative to the professional submariners, but Miwa did not order them from the room, simply to stand to one side.

  They acknowledged with a nod and stepped back.

  He returned to his briefing.

  The details of the extended mission in full cooperation with their ally, one that would harness the incredible range of the Sen-Tokus, were impressive, particularly for a nation on its knees.

  The journey would be long and fraught with danger, but the planning had been extremely thorough, with back-up plans available where assets permitted.

  Some of the other vessels involved were anonymous or of no import, at least as far as the Allies were concerned.

  The I-353, a tanker submarine and the Bogata Maru ex Kriegsmarine merchant vessel, hastily converted to an auxiliary submarine tender, both now serving solely one purpose; the refueling and resupply of the four submarines of Operation Niji.

  Other innocuous vessels had a part to play along the route of advance.

  The Nachi Maru and Tsukushi Maru, two submarine tenders, now ostensibly under Allied orders, were ready to respond when needed.

  Even the Hikawa Maru no2, a respectable hospital ship, had a part to play in ensuring the mission’s success.

  However, when the Niji unit was round the Cape of Good Hope, friendly berths and supply would be much harder to come by.

  But not impossible.

  The last intelligence received from a South African agent indicated that the U-Boat supply dump at the mouth of the Ondusengo River in South-West Africa, had not yet been discovered. Figures available from the days of the Axis Alliance indicated that upwards of two thousand, six hundred tons of fuel oil were still concealed within the rolling sands.

  The Sen-Tokus could make their destination without refuelling, but the two AM class could not, even if all the rendezvous’ in the Indian and Southern oceans went as planned.

  When Miwa was satisfied that the briefing was complete, and the men who would carry out the mission were fully on board and enthusiastic, he dropped his bombshell.

  Nodding to the Kempai-Tai Major, he indicated that the tape recording should be played.

  Miwa called the room to attention.

  The strains of ‘Kimigayo’ rose from the single large speaker, and Miwa saw the stiffening and deference that swept through the assembly. A minute passed before the music ended and a disembodied voice declared the identity of the coming speaker.

  Shōwa-Tennō… the Mikado… Emperor Hirohito.

  “To our good and loyal subjects. After pondering deeply the general trends of the world and the actual conditions obtaining in our empire today, we have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation by resorting to an extraordinary meas…”

  There were tears.

  Many, many tears.

  Eyes flashed fanatically, wet with tears, shed for the Empire and for the dishonour of it all.

  Eyes shed tears for departed comrades, their loss now clearly in vain.

  Lips trembled as emotions battled inside the rigid bodies, each man dealing with the unexpected… the unthinkable…

  The words were absorbed, their meaning clear, and the anthem marked the end of the speech and the dreams of a nation.

  Miwa spoke softly.

  “So, there you have it.”

  He walked forward smartly, and stood before the Kempai Tai commander.

  “You and your men will now leave. My officers and I have much to discuss.”

  The Major looked confused, as this was not what had been discussed.

  Miwa continued, in an assertive and formal fashion.

  “Shōsa Harrimatsa. You will both leave now to allow us to talk. There is no need for your services. Remain outside this building to preserve our security. That is all.”

  The Major bowed and ordered his security force out, eyeing the assembly with suspicion and still not totally sure why he had agreed to the Admiral’s request… order.

  The instruction was more than it seemed, which only he and Miwa understood.

  The door closed and Miwa turned back to the group.

  “Our Emperor has spoken, and to all of us that is a divine order that cannot be disobeyed.”

  He walked slowly around the room, weaving in and out of the men that were stood rigidly at the attention.

  “But I fear that our Emperor has been misled… lied to… put in a position, a protected and uninformed one, from which he has no knowledge of the truth and actual events!”

  He stopped in front of Itaka, the commander of I-1, a man who had lost two brothers aboard the battleship Yamato during its suicide mission.

  “It is unthinkable that he would order us to stop fighting now, when so many have given their lives willingly for him… and for the glory of the Empire!”

  The words went home and found a fertile resting place in Itaka’s mind.

  In other minds, the words also found a receptive resting place and, as Miwa continued to move through the assembly, he saw resolve in each man’s eyes.

  Stopping in front of Nobukiyo, the Admiral delivered his final statement on the matter.

  “In the light of the obvious deception played upon the Emperor, I see no alternative… no honourable alternative whatsoever… but to continue with the mission that he had entrusted us.”

  His eyes burned deeply into those of Nobukiyo, almost inviting a challenge to the veracity of his words.

  “We have been entrusted with a special task, one of significant importance to the Empire and its Allies. One outside the normal remits of our glorious navy. There has been no recall… no coded message halting our endeavours… no indication that we are not expected to proceed and discharge our duty to the Emperor.
”

  His eyes hardened, and the fanatical Admiral delivered his bottom line, moving his face closer to the man who could make all their efforts count for naught, Nobukiyo’s personality and cult following amongst the submariners giving his opinion a weight well above his rank, especially if it came to obeying the spoken word of the Mikado.

  “It is our honourable duty to undertake this mission regardless, for the Emperor. There can be no other conclusion.”

  Nobukiyo remained silent, his mind in turmoil, dragged in two directions by the words of his Emperor and the words of the Admiral in front of him.

  The delay was an age, or seemed it, but Nobukiyo resolved the issue in his mind and bowed stiffly.

  “Hai.”

  Miwa nodded in relief and spoke softly, his hand grabbing the submarine commander’s shoulder.

  “Hai… hai…”

  He regained his composure and swung round to face the majority.

  “Then we are decided.”

  Raising his arms vertically in the air, he screamed with a combination of national fervour and relief.

  “Banzai!”

  The rest of the room followed him a triple repetition of the salute.

  “Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!”

  Outside, Major Harrimatsa relaxed and thumbed the safety catch on his Browning 1910FN, indicating that his men could also now relax.

  Had they but known it, the submarine officers had experienced a brush with death. QQQ

  1101 hrs, Friday, 21st June 1946, Camp 1001, Akhtubinsk, USSR

  There was something about the Russian psyche that made the Volga a serious national asset, over and above the physical barrier it represented.

  When the Germans had marched into Mother Russia, it was at Stalingrad, on the Volga, amongst other places, that the invincible Wehrmacht had first floundered.

  The Soviet capacity to produce the weapons of war had been carted over the large river, and installed in the Soviet hinterland, where it was safe, and could not be reached.

  It was in the heart of every Russian, an inspiration and source of pride, and Camp 1001 was protected by its flowing waters.

  Men from a number of important sectors of the Soviet war machine had flown into the small airbase at Akhtubinsk on the east bank of the river, looking for a number of special requirements to come together in one place, a search they had embarked on immediately the Germans had been turned back.

  Fig # 188 – Camp 1001, Akhtubinsk, USSR

  Representatives from the office of the People’s Commissariat for Ammunition, the Ministry of Middle Machinery, and the VNIIEF moved around the insignificant corner of the Soviet Empire, finding that their checklists were being rapidly satisfied.

  Electricity, environment, concealment, access… the factors were satisfied on all counts, and more.

  The preliminary reports cited the satisfactory and favourable elements of the site.

  With all interested parties in total agreement, the decision was quickly reached, and the development and relocation plan was presented to Stalin and the GKO.

  In a nutshell, a huge secret facility was to be constructed in the area but its existence would not be announced to their Allies.

  If it became known, then it would simply be a POW facility full of German POWs.

  By the time the German War was over, the nature of Camp 1001 had changed, and work started anew on enhancing its facilities.

  When the Allies started their attacks on Kremlyov, Vannikov proposed shifting the entire project to Akhtubinsk, and concealing it with a large population of Allied prisoners, who could also be used as a work force for further expansion.

  The facility would be declared as a prison camp to the Allies and Red Cross, in order to avoid any unnecessary deaths or, as Vannikov suggested, ‘to use their soft natures and regard for life against them.’

  Colonel General Boris Vannikov, the People’s Commissar for Ammunition, was glowingly positive about 1001 and the facilities it promised, and promised quickly, the vast majority of underground work having been completed some months previously.

  Within the large site, there would be sub-facilities, where Soviet engineers and scientists would continue the work of the Soviet Atomic programme.

  The assembly of all major components parts would be done within Camp 1001, and the waterway provided an excellent means to transport the larger items from their own factories, and in a disguised way, which was had been one of the deal clinchers.

  For the months to come, Allied intelligence had absolutely no idea, and continued to bomb both the real and distraction sites set up throughout the USSR, whilst 1001 grew and became operational.

  At 1101hrs on Friday 21st June 1946, the last electrical connections were made, meaning that every research and manufacturing facility was now functioning.

  NKVD Lieutenant General Dustov received the confirmation over the phone and immediately sought a connection to Moscow.

  His head of security, Colonel Skryabin, arrived to confirm the report.

  After the telephone conversation with Vannikov, Dustov and Skryabin decided to wreak havoc with the readiness company by way of a surprise test of their response.

  By the end of the drill, the base was short one NKVD Captain, who found himself waiting at Akhtubinsk for the next aircraft to Siberia, and the readiness company had a new commanding officer, who understood fully the value of being efficient and swift in all he did in future.

  1209 hrs, Saturday, 22nd June 1946, Château de Versailles, France.

  It had been a hell of a morning and, as Saturday afternoon arrived, it got no better for the commander of the Allied Armies in Europe.

  Eisenhower settled back, his flow of orders now ceased, the men and women of his staff dispatched to sort out the crisis in Southern Germany, where Soviet pressure had actually jolted some of his units back, the first real losses in territory since the March offensive began.

  Devers had been upbeat, but Ike had seen through the bravado, despite the concealment offered by the telephone, understanding the concerns that had built up, day after day, as US casualty rates grew.

  Eisenhower had decided to blood more of the Allies, and his orders to Devers and other commanders committed the South Americans and Spaniards like never before.

  Ever conscious of the political need to reduce casualties amongst the main players, Eisenhower had been judicious in the use of his British, Commonwealth, and US soldiers, and had successfully reduced casualty rates, offset by a drudgingly slow advance and higher consumption of the chattels of war.

  And yet, the last few weeks had seen an increase in casualties; stiffer resistance, more counter-attacks, thicker minefields, heavier use of air assets, all in areas of American responsibility.

  Whilst Soviet resistance was fierce everywhere, it seemed more targeted, more resilient, more pro-active in zones where US troops were in the majority.

  The figures were developed and, when Ike had last spoken with his commander-in-chief, he had suggested the possibility of a defined attempt by the enemy to increase US casualty rates.

  The reasoning was as clear to the military minds in Versailles as it was to the political ones in Washington.

  The United States Army was being deliberately battered to increase casualty rates and influence political opinion at home.

  It was a dangerous time for the Allied armies, and matters got a whole lot worse in short order.

  Answering the phone, Ike acknowledged General Bradley’s greeting and reached for a cigarette… and stopped dead.

  “Say what? Say that again, Brad.”

  Eisenhower grabbed a small map from his desk, all that was to hand to interpret Bradley’s words.

  He listened without interrupting, seeing everything in his mind’s eye, as Bradley’s words fell onto the map in his hands, illustrating an unexpected horror.

  “When did it start?”

  ‘Ten hundred hours.’

  “At three points…”

  ‘Yes, Sir.’


  Eisenhower examined the map and saw opportunity mixed with the threat of an unprecedented Soviet counter-attack.

  “Kassel?”

  ‘No reports of activity, Sir.’

  “Can you firm that up, Brad? Get some air up to examine it, I want to know if that’s the secured pivot of this attack, clear?”

  ‘Yes, Sir. Are you thinking of using the French?’

  Bradley had read his mind.

  “Yes, Brad, I am. We know the enemy are weak, and if this the all-out effort you suggest, it will be limited in form. If they are anchored on Kassel, as seems likely, we move the French in behind them… cross the river at…,” a ring-shaped stain from a long-since consumed mug of coffee temporarily defied his efforts to read the name, “At Hann Münden… on the Fulda River.”

  Eisenhower relaxed enough to light his cigarette and delivered his instructions slowly and precisely.

  “Right, here’s what we do. I’ll assemble my staff and take another look at the whole shooting match. You get some more recon in place, and get me what I need to make the decision.”

  He took in more of the calming smoke, mixing it with the comfort of applied activity, before delivering the rest of his orders.

  “Have your boys work the problem too, just to make sure. Meanwhile, prep the French for a rapid deployment and assault to the southeast, aimed at crossing the Fulda at Hann Münden, isolating Kassel, and driving into the rear of the forces attacking into your front. Any questions, Brad?”

  ‘How much time you looking at, Sir?’

  Ike consulted the clock and did the calculations.

  “I want firm information in hand by fifteen hundred, and no later. I want boots on the road and a firm plan before sixteen hundred comes and goes, clear, Brad?”

  ‘Yes, General. I’m on it already. I’ll call as soon as I have anything firm.’

  Exchanging the normal pleasantries, the call ended, and Eisenhower was straight on the phone again, calling his planners to order.