by John Hackett
There was considerable support for this discriminate use of a nuclear weapon but in the end it was agreed that it would probably be taken as a clear indication of intention to wage all-out thermonuclear war, with all that that implied. It should not, therefore, be done unless all-out nuclear war were intended.
In discussion of the operational alternatives, Politburo members drew attention to shortcomings in the planning. They instructed that a revised Plan be submitted in two weeks for final approval.
On 20 December 1984 that part of the revised Plan of the First Main Directorate of the General Staff which concerned operations against NATO was once again submitted to the Defence Council. A map-room exercise was held, with the head of the First Main Directorate of the General Staff acting as leader of the ‘Eastern’ forces and the head of the GRU leading the ‘Western’ troops. The task of the head of the GRU was to stop the ‘Eastern’ forces. He would consider every possible manoeuvre and weapon available to the enemy in battle. The head of the First Main Directorate had also to take appropriate measures to overcome ‘Western’ opposition. It stood to reason, of course, that if in the real battle the enemy were to use unexpected techniques, equipment or tactics which would halt the Soviet breakthrough, of which the Soviet military intelligence service had given no warning, the GRU chief would be court-martialled.
The Chief of the General Staff supervised this duel between his two subordinates and acted as umpire. The Politburo members observed the battle closely. For the moment, at least, it was only being fought on maps. The conclusion was that a favourable outcome was likely.
When the map exercise was over, the Chief of the General Staff, the heads of the Main Directorates and their deputies were all subjected to rigorous questioning by Politburo members, not on the particular operational matters under discussion but generally on the state of Soviet and NATO forces. It is a curious and interesting fact that in committees the world over, however powerful and important, there is a tendency to explore matters, often in some detail, which are not of the highest importance in themselves but which attract the interest of some of the members — the lay members particularly. This is sometimes exploited by other members as a device to avoid discussion of points which might prove embarrassing. The Politburo was no exception.
Once again there arose the old question of what happens to NATO’s obsolescent armaments. The members of the Politburo refused to believe that all the tanks, artillery and armoured personnel carriers which NATO had taken out of service would actually have been disposed of. Knowing in advance that this question was bound to crop up yet again, the chief of military intelligence had brought with him secret reports about the destruction of obsolete weapons in the West, with a film showing the destruction of such weapons. This did not succeed in dispelling doubts. Again and again it was asked if all these documents might not simply be the product of Western disinformation services which, though less widespread and effective than those of the Soviet Union, were known to be far from idle. The GRU chief explained that it was completely true, that he had detailed accounts of the destruction of old equipment. There then arose the question of why NATO did this. The Soviet intelligence service found that hard to answer.
The West’s policy in relation to obsolete armaments thus remained a mystery. The Soviet Union did not destroy its old military equipment. It preserved it. A thoroughly obsolete tank can be buried in the ground up to its very turret. The turret may then be additionally fortified with armour plates. The tank does not have to move at all. Its engine and caterpillar tracks are already of no use, but its armour is as strong as it used to be. Its main armament and machine-guns may be fired as before. Its optical instruments and signals equipment remain. According to the Soviet view, two or three old tank crew members with one obsolete tank buried in the ground might, suitably sited, effectively defend a wide frontage, perhaps replacing a whole company or even a first-rate infantry battalion. The buried tank is invaluable in both nuclear and chemical warfare and its crew live in warmth and comfort. If the turret is reinforced with additional armour and well camouflaged, one obsolete tank can stop several of the enemy’s advancing tanks. The Politburo simply could not understand why NATO had withdrawn from service literally tens of thousands of tanks, including those real armoured fortresses the Conqueror and the M-103, with their powerful guns, when in actual fact any sort of tank buried in the ground was a far better alternative to two or three infantrymen with rifles in a dirty, disintegrating trench. If NATO had secretly kept all its old tanks, then during the period of a threat of war, or even once war had begun, an impregnable steel defence could have been created.
Some of the members of the Politburo, of course, had had experience of tank warfare in the Great Patriotic War, some forty years before. None had served in airborne forces and few had any idea of the capability of helicopter assault in vertical envelopment.
On the following day, 21 December, an extraordinary meeting of the Politburo took place, for discussion of the situation in Eastern Europe and the possible behaviour of the USSR’s allies in the event of war. The report was given by the Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Armed Forces of the Warsaw Pact, Marshal of the Soviet Union V. G. Kulikov. In the Soviet hierarchy this post, it must be said, commanded little respect. For a Soviet marshal, appointment to it meant honourable retirement from the real centre of power. A principal reason for its invention was to hide the simple fact that all decisions for the Warsaw Pact were actually made within the Soviet General Staff. The Supreme Commander was the titular military head of the Warsaw Pact armies. He was officially no more than one of the deputies to the Soviet Minister of Defence. The Soviet Minister of Defence gave orders to the Commander-in-Chief of the Warsaw Pact as his deputy. The latter then delivered the orders to the ‘allies’ and saw to it that they were carried out as correctly as possible. He reported back on the execution of the orders to the Soviet Minister of Defence, who in turn reported back to his colleagues in the Politburo.
Kulikov’s report to the Politburo referred to above brought little satisfaction to its members. From a military point of view Eastern Europe was well armed, but there was some lack of confidence in the willingness of Eastern European countries to fight. For example, Poland had been able, at the expense of reducing the living standards of its people and thanks to astronomical Western credits, to create armed forces with four times as many tanks as the British Army. Poland had a marine infantry division. Only two or three countries, notably the USA, allowed themselves such a luxury; the Soviet Union was not prepared to maintain such a division. However, the situation in Poland was radically changing. Polish workers had thrust a wedge into the Party structure. The movement had been incompletely suppressed. Polish anti-socialist forces might be able, in the worst case, to hamper their country’s war effort very seriously. This would not only reduce the value to the Soviet Union of its most powerful military ally, but would also do much to disrupt the maintenance of Soviet forces operating in West Germany.
For the moment, East Germany continued to remain faithful, but how would its troops react to closer contact with Western influences and better opportunities to defect? The defection rate in the GDR was already quite high.
Czechoslovakia had remained in a state of ambivalence, almost of torpor, since 1968. At that time its army did not want to fight against the Red Army. Would the Czechoslovak People’s Army now fight against anyone else?
In Hungary the situation was quite the opposite. The events of 1956 had been followed by economic developments which had unfortunately led to some erosion of socialism and a lessening of Party authority. What would the Hungarian Army do if war broke out? How far would it be disposed to fight for socialism?
Bulgaria had been deeply corrupted by Western influence. Every year there was in Bulgaria one Western tourist for every three inhabitants. The country was thriving on tourism and on little else. If Western Europe went socialist, there would be no more Western tourists and the hard currency th
ey brought would cease to come in. Where would the advantage lie for Bulgarians in a change in the existing situation?
That left Romania. In some ways it appeared to be unfriendly but the Soviet Union could not afford to lose Ceausescu. He certainly had no desire to see the USSR collapse and he might well be a constant ally. It was a pity that Romania’s army was so very weak and its economic situation scarcely less than catastrophic.
When the report was finished the Supreme Party Ideologist stood up and gave the Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Forces of the Warsaw Pact the following order:
‘At the forthcoming meeting of the Warsaw Pact Political Advisory Council three fundamental points must be very diplomatically, but clearly and candidly, put forward:
a. It is not only wrong to betray friends, especially at war, it can also be suicidal.
b. The Soviet Union will always have a powerful nuclear capability in reserve for the punishment of traitors.
c. Western Europe will undoubtedly be destroyed, leaving those who have deserted socialism with no refuge. It is much safer to remain on the winning side.’
Chapter 9: Nekrassov’s View
Andrei Nekrassov, Party member though he was (as he had to be), did not wholly trust Soviet propaganda. He could not disclose this publicly, of course. As pressures built up inside him, however, he felt an urgent need to share the load he was bearing with someone else. It was a great boon to him that the one person outside his family whom he wholly trusted, someone with a great, if different, awareness of the sort of things over which he was himself puzzled, was at hand. Nekrassov was able, in private and personal conversations held always well away from the possibility of eavesdropping, at least to say some of what was on his mind to Dimitri Vassilievitch Makarov. The bond between these two was stronger now than ever. Makarov’s widowed father, the lecturer in history in the Lomonossov University, whom Dimitri, his only child, had not seen for over a year, had had a sudden heart attack and died. The two young men, reserved in their attitude to other people, began to see themselves more and more almost as brothers.
Andrei Nekrassov naturally did what was expected of a Soviet officer. He nodded his head, as was proper, and recited all the propagandist statements required of him in front of his men. But some of what was disseminated he, as a professional soldier, simply could not believe. Soviet propaganda claimed, for instance, that American soldiers were pampered. It was said that each American company had its own cook and that each American soldier had his own sleeping bag, just like a tourist. However, Nekrassov was perfectly well aware (and probably all other Soviet army officers were too) that this could not possibly be true. A company is a military sub-unit meant solely for fighting battles. A company cannot have a cook, for everyone in a company must fight. A regiment needs to have a cook, but only one for 2,000 men. Every night a few infantry soldiers are detailed as fatigues to help him. At least, that is what happens in peacetime; during war, there is absolutely no need for a cook at all.
He did not believe the propaganda and tried to sort out the position for himself. But it seemed, when he compared figures, that the Soviet propaganda might be right after all. A Soviet tank company had thirteen tanks and forty-three men — thirty-nine in the tank crews and four maintenance men, who were responsible for technical upkeep, supplies, discipline, provisions, morale, medical treatment, uniforms, ammunition, and so on. In an American tank company there were seventeen tanks but ninety-two men. What work, Nekrassov wondered, could all these people do? Perhaps they were penal infantry, expendable troops deployed to defend the tanks from light anti-tank weapons. But why keep penal soldiers in tank companies during peacetime? They should be made to do hard labour in prisons during peacetime, and only when war broke out should they be sent out to penal battalions, as wholly expendable manpower.
The figures just did not seem to work out at battalion level. A Soviet tank battalion had forty tanks and 193 men. An American tank battalion had fifty-four tanks but more than 500 men. The staff of a Soviet battalion numbered a total of three, two officers and a sergeant, with a signals platoon of thirteen men. For twenty-four hours a day over a period of many months the battalion’s staff had to cope with directing combat operations and seeing to all the necessary documentation. However, within an American battalion, for some reason or other, they had devised a staff company, which had the same number of men as a whole Soviet battalion. It was completely impossible to understand what all these people could be doing. Moreover, hundreds of vehicles would be needed to transport them all, whereas only thirteen assorted vehicles were used to support a Soviet battalion with forty tanks.
In the Soviet infantry, problems of maintenance were resolved even more simply than in tank sub-units. In a Soviet motor rifle company everyone takes part directly in battle. Its officers are armed with the same weapons as their soldiers. The company sergeant major is responsible for discipline, order and the cleanliness of weapons, and also for supplying the company with everything it needs including fuel, provisions, ammunition, spare parts, uniforms and weapons. But even he, the only man involved in administration, has to take part in the fighting. As soon as the company goes in to fight on foot, the sergeant major either controls the movement of the BTR or directs BMP fire or both. In a Soviet motor rifle battalion there are only thirty men to deal with communications, repairs, medical and technical support, and the supply of stores, provisions and virtually everything else. They also have to deal with all the administration, while the remaining 413 men participate directly in the action. One result of this sensible use of manpower is that a Soviet battalion has a mortar battery, whilst an American battalion twice its size does not. Instead it seemed to have an incredibly long tail of unprotected vehicles full of administrators.
A Soviet motor rifle division of 13,800 men has 272 tanks and 108 self-propelled howitzers. A similar American division has 18,500 men but only 216 tanks and seventy-two self-propelled howitzers. A Soviet division is completely independent, with its own reconnaissance battalion and a company of anti-aircraft missiles (besides the anti-aircraft weapons of the regiments, battalions and companies), whilst an American division has to rely on outside support, in particular on the battalions of hawk air defence missiles.
Andrei Nekrassov simply could not fathom, as he explained to his patient friend, why they did not transfer all their clerks, cooks and supply people to make up new tank battalions, or mortar batteries, or air defence regiments.
In Europe there were altogether 200,000 American soldiers. That would have been sufficient to form fifteen full-bodied Soviet tank or motor rifle divisions and all the auxiliary units and services needed to support and maintain them. If one had to use this manpower to form weaker divisions without, for example, reconnaissance battalions or heavy anti-aircraft missiles, but with 216 tanks per division, this number of men would be sufficient for twenty-five such divisions.
The US Army in Europe, with all that manpower, had only five incomplete divisions. However hard he tried, Nekrassov simply could not understand what work all these other people could be doing. Surely they were not all in penal battalions? His friend Dimitri was equally puzzled.
There were other things that neither Senior Lieutenant could understand. Within the US Army there were sub-units of military police. Why? Could it be that a battalion or regimental commander was unable to establish strict order without outside help? Surely a commander has enough authority to keep his own sub-unit under control?
As far as women were concerned the whole thing was quite incomprehensible. Where can a woman be used in an army? In a hospital or in a signals sub-unit, perhaps, but even then only in places where these were stationary: in rear communications centres and rear hospitals. Where else? In administrative posts? Only two typists were needed in a field army or tank army headquarters. There were five Soviet armies in the German Democratic Republic. That made ten typists in all. No more were needed. Why were there tens of thousands of women in the US Army? What did they do?
Was it possible to find some kind of army job which involved only light physical work? What if these women worked in divisions, where, if they were not fighting, divisional personnel had to do extremely heavy work for a minimum of ten hours a day? Could the US Army really have different standards? In a twenty-four-hour period a Soviet soldier had twenty-five minutes of free time. Could this be sufficient for a woman? A soldier must be ready to sleep in the snow with only his greatcoat to cover himself, he may have to wash himself with snow and go for months without hot food. These American women are poor wretches, thought Nekrassov, driven by accursed unemployment into the monstrous hardships of a soldier’s life. This procedure would really have to be changed! But perhaps in the US Army even the men each had a whole hour of free time per day? Perhaps it was true that they all, male and female, had sleeping bags, just like tourists? Perhaps they really did have one cook for every 200 soldiers, and that they took cooks along with them on exercises, and perhaps even to war as well? Perhaps even all the men in the army were allowed a standard of comfort appropriate to their female colleagues?
