by John Hackett
If the Commanding General had it in mind to say more, he did not say it. The door of the briefing room opened and a staff officer hurried in, handing to the General a slip of paper in what had become a highly charged silence.
‘I am informed,’ said the General, ‘that Soviet troops crossed the frontier into Yugoslavia in some strength a few hours ago.’
The senior Senator rose.
‘General,’ he said, ‘you will have enough to do without having us around here. It’s about time we all got home, anyway.’
CHAPTER 9: The Invasion of Yugoslavia
The situation in the early summer of 1985 was fraught with crises and uncertainties of many kinds. The year had begun with the Soviet exercise in the use of military power to achieve political ends in the demotion of the US from its world role. The resulting instability had, however, shown up at least as many weaknesses on the Soviet side as on the American. And the Russians had to fear that all these sources of anxiety might culminate together in some way — Chinese pressure in the central Asian republics, the collapse of the Middle Eastern house of cards, Yugoslav tendencies to move closer to the West, and the cumulative effects on the Soviet-controlled regimes in Eastern Europe of an oil shortage, higher food prices and increased military effort at the expense of civil consumption.
The comparatively cautious policy hitherto pursued, which might be described by the slogan ‘proxy and periphery’, had not yet produced the promised results. The attempt to turn the Eurasian landmass into a base for worldwide naval operations had suffered the inescapable setbacks of geography and temperament. The choice now lay more clearly between accepting an unwelcome and even humiliating return to previous spheres of influence, and making violent and rapid use of the remaining real Soviet assets in the shape of its truly formidable conventional attack capability in Europe and its ruthless ability to suppress dissent wherever the Red Army was present.
The West was not wholly unaware of the debate now being conducted in the Kremlin. The belief that one of the Soviet options must be war in Europe, including the recapture of Yugoslavia, had led at last to a real effort to make good deficiencies in the conventional forces available to Allied Command Europe in NATO and in the all-important air defence of the United Kingdom as the bridgehead for US reinforcements. (For the action taken to improve the UK defence capabilities, see Appendix 1.) Means of counter-action in Yugoslavia were depressingly small, but at least from the Western political point of view conditions were more favourable. The Italian Communist Party, whose general allegiance to NATO had remained somewhat qualified, could be relied upon (it was hoped) to support the defence of an independent communist regime finding its own way to socialism against the forcible imposition of Soviet control. Yugoslavia was historically a prototype of Euro-communism and geographically a bastion against Soviet pressure to conform. Some preparations could therefore be made by US forces in Italy to counter a possible pro-Soviet coup supported by Red Army troops from Hungary.
In the final stages of the Soviet debate, opinion varied as to whether Yugoslavia should be dealt with in isolation or whether there should be a Soviet advance on a broad front in Europe. Those advocating more general action not only emphasized the importance of prosecuting Soviet foreign policy as a coherent whole but saw this in particular as bringing a series of advantages. Acquisition of the greater part of Western Europe would extend still further the glacis hitherto provided only by the communist states of Eastern Europe. It could remove, perhaps for years, the possibility of US action on the Western flank. It might be best to do this before China was ready, before the Soviet position in the Middle East deteriorated too greatly, and before improvements in NATO defences went much further. It would allow, and indeed necessitate, strong measures against those in Poland and Czechoslovakia who were now demanding not only freedom of expression but also cheaper food. The destruction which war would cause in both Germanies would buy a further breathing space before the German problem once more posed a threat to the Soviet Union. In a major conflict with NATO Yugoslavia would be unimportant and could be dealt with en passant. Limited Soviet action in response to an appeal for help from within the country was in any case attractive. Effective US counter-intervention was unlikely, but if it took place it could be used to justify a more general attack upon the West through Poland, East Germany and Czechoslovakia.
In the end events as usual took control. The Soviet-inspired Committee for the Defence of Yugoslavia staged an abortive foray into Slovenia, precipitating a collision between the Slovenian provincial government and the federal government in Belgrade. The Committee called for Soviet help. At the same time some bakeries closed in Gdansk and Dresden due to diversion of fuel to factories producing military transport, and the resultant riots threatened to get out of hand. Soviet reaction was seen to be unavoidable. The hard-liners won the day.
Meanwhile, the manoeuvre season had arrived. The Soviet command was staging two major exercises, one in Hungary and one of unprecedented size in East Germany. The Final Act signed at the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe required the notification of manoeuvres over a certain size and encouraged states holding them to invite observers from other countries. The Russians played this in two ways. On grounds that they were of relatively little importance they failed to notify the Hungarian manoeuvres, believing that these might be the first to be converted into the real thing, but notified the German exercise through the normal channels.
On 27 July 1985 a Soviet airborne division in an unopposed landing secured the approaches to Belgrade. At the same time a Soviet motor-rifle division from Hungary crossed the Yugoslav border on the Budapest-Zagreb road, followed by another. The pro-Soviet Committee was recognized as the provisional government of Yugoslavia, and Yugoslav frontier forces, after a short engagement, were quickly obliged to withdraw towards Zagreb. The Soviet plan was to occupy Zagreb and thence link up with the airborne troops east to Belgrade and fan out west to Ljubljana. Meanwhile, the exercises in East Germany intensified, with more formations moving forward from the Western Military Districts of the Soviet Union through Poland.
The NATO side, in spite of many warnings, had failed to make specific provision for this kind of threat in Yugoslavia. That country had remained the ‘grey area’ par excellence. It was not covered by the NATO commitment to automatic defence. But equally the West had not renounced interest in what happened there, as they had by implication in Hungary in 1956 and Czechoslovakia in 1968. The continued neutrality of Yugoslavia was obviously a Western interest of prime importance. But it is difficult to guarantee a country whose foreign policy is based on non-commitment, as Britain and France had found with Belgium prior to 1939. Therefore greyness was made a virtue: the very uncertainty of Western reaction was made a principle of deterrence.
The grey chicken now came home to roost and NATO had to decide — or rather the USA decided, with reluctant Italian acquiescence, while NATO tagged along. In the hope of favourable Yugoslav reaction, and in view of all the long history of Italian-Yugoslav conflict, it was vital to avoid the use of Italian forces. But after some days of furious diplomacy in Belgrade, Zagreb and Ljubljana, US marines and airborne forces from Italy were able to make unopposed landings at Rijeka (Fiume), Ljubljana and some of the Dalmatian islands. What was much more serious, within twenty-four hours they were in action against Soviet airborne and armoured units.
At this stage the US government still harboured a final hope that they might be able to isolate events in Yugoslavia from the wider European scene, and above all that they might be able to limit the impact upon American public opinion of any fighting there. They called for an immediate meeting of the Security Council. They ordered their commanders in the first instance not to move beyond the boundaries of Slovenia, and, to prevent the inflaming of opinion in the United States, to put an immediate ban on all television coverage of their operations.
But they were too late. They had counted without the enterprise of a resolute
Italian television cameraman, Mario Salvadori. He was not employed by the official Italian television service, RAI, but by an international newsfilm agency. He had at one time lived in the States. In Italy he had made good friends among the American marines, whose peacetime manoeuvres and parades had provided him with useful material when other news was scarce. He happened to be at their base when the alert began, and his friends took him along ‘for the ride’ when they were airlifted to Ljubljana.
It was thus decreed by chance that one of the first encounters between Soviet and US forces in the Third World War took place under the eye of a television camera. With his portable and lightweight electronic equipment, Salvadori was present at the first contact, when Soviet forces thrusting into Slovenia came face to face with American marines on the outskirts of Kostanjevica, between Ljubljana and Zagreb. Three Soviet tanks, moving forward in the confident belief that no US forces had yet reached the area, were surprised by a unit of US marines whose armament included Milan anti-tank weapons. All three tanks were very quickly put out of action by first-shot strikes, and a company of Soviet infantry on a hillside beyond the town was swiftly recalled to redeploy in a stronger position immediately to the rear. At the same time Soviet strike aircraft carried out a rocket attack on the Americans, causing some very ugly casualties.
Much of this Salvadori, a daring and intelligent cameraman, recorded on tape. It was action material of extraordinary drama. The high quality of the ENG pictures gave a sense of reality and vividness greater than any in film pictures of Americans in action in the now distant Vietnam War. The destruction of the Soviet tanks, one of which blew up within a 100 metres of the cameraman’s position; the shocked, drawn faces of Russian prisoners being escorted to the rear; and the spectacle of the Soviet infantry suddenly withdrawing, so that the whole of the small hillside seemed to move, conveyed in sharp, almost exultant terms the information that the Red Army was far from being invulnerable. The trained military eye might have noted that the Soviet infantry, in their sudden rearward move, were providing a model of how to carry out the very difficult operation of a withdrawal in contact, under fire. A military observer would certainly have recognized that three tanks do not constitute a significant force. But this small action, if only because it was small and readily grasped, came over as a clear US victory. Only the pictures of the mutilated victims of the rocket attack, one screaming in agony, were a reminder of the cost.
Salvadori was not only a skilled cameraman. He had had long experience of outwitting officialdom. He quickly made his way to Ljubljana, without disclosing the contents of his recording, and managed to get a lift on an aircraft back to Italy. There, through his agency, the material was transmitted by satellite throughout the world. It was in the hands of the American networks before the White House or the Pentagon were even aware of its existence. The networks, moreover, knew that the material had already been circulated widely, not least to the Iron Curtain countries, who had helped themselves unhesitatingly to the satellite transmissions of the agency. So into the homes of the American public went, unplanned, uncensored, almost unedited — except for one peculiarly hideous shot of a marine whose face had been blown away — these scenes of the first clash between the Russians and the Americans.
With acute anxiety the United States authorities awaited the reaction of their own people. To their relief, and also to their surprise — as indeed to that of most commentators in the press — the result was not one of dismay or fear, but of anger and pride. There was anger at the sufferings inflicted by the bombing, seen so close upon the screen, but there was also an upsurge of pride at this spectacle of Soviet troops being held in check and even withdrawing. In an instant, without formal declarations of war, the American public felt themselves to be at war, and some fundamental instinct for survival welded them together. The battle of Kostanjevica was a minute operation in the huge waves of fighting which were to follow; Salvadori’s pictures were to be outdone by miles of more dramatic, more terrible coverage. But few recordings of this first television war were to have such an influence. There could be no doubt now, not only in the minds of the American public, but in the world at large, that the Soviet Union and the United States were involved in a shooting war. And the first recorded glimpse of it had been a glimpse of Soviet troops on the run. -
This incident was easily presented to the Warsaw Pact countries as what some at least of the Soviet hawks had been waiting for, the ‘attack’ by the West on a communist state. It was the momentum of events, however, much more than the actual incident itself, that now took charge. Soviet forces were joined in battle with troops of the United States. This was the stupendous, almost unbelievable event that brought into brutal reality what had so long been feared. The Soviet Union and the United States were in combat action against each other on a battlefield. The chocks were out. The huge military mass of the USSR was already beginning to move down the slipway. There could now for the Soviet Union be no possible alternative to the launching of the full invasion, already well prepared, of Western Europe, and the advance to the Rhine, for the destruction of the Atlantic Alliance, and the removal of the threat from US ‘imperialism’, operating from the forward base of Federal Germany.
CHAPTER 10: Soviet Planning
The year 1984 had seen some difference of view in the Kremlin on the most profitable method of exploiting the USSR’s very considerable position of military strength. The difference was in the last resort no more than a matter of emphasis, but it had been evident for some time and was not without importance in the subsequent development of events.
The older men, all with experience of the Second World War, continued to see in Germany the most persistent and dangerous threat to the long-term security of the Soviet Union. They fully recognized the enormous strength and influence of capitalist America, the other great superpower, and the potential danger it embodied. Unless the United States disintegrated under the stresses of capitalist contradictions, of which it had to be admitted there was at present little sign, there would at some time have to be a reckoning with her. But the danger from a re-armed, industrially powerful West Germany, eager for revenge, was both more immediate and more real, both in itself and in its catalytic influence on the countries of the West. These older men tended to see external problems more in terms of Europe and its extension in North America than of the outer world. They were at least as much Russian as Marxist-Leninist, and in some cases more so.
The younger men, none of whom had been old enough to take any part in the Second World War, thought more in terms of the rest of the world than of Europe, and even there, though they were fully alive to the danger from Germany, did not regard it as the whole core of the external problem. They were uncompromising Party men, born and brought up under the system, completely devoted to it and wholly conscious that it was the sole condition of their being who and what they were. They were at least as much Marxist-Leninist as Russian, and in some cases more so.
Such difference as there was, it must be repeated, was only one of emphasis. There was no disagreement on the persistent threat to the system from the capitalist-imperialist world, with West Germany playing a major role under the leadership of the United States. Nor was there disagreement on the high probability of a future threat from China, on the dangers of heresies in national communism, on the absolute need to keep the Party supreme and watertight, or on any other fundamental issue. There was also complete agreement on the inevitability of the ultimate triumph of the system everywhere, on the necessity to exploit every external opportunity to advance the Soviet interest, on the wisdom of tactical manipulation in the short term to secure greater gains in the long, and on the paramount necessity for a dominant position of military strength abroad — at the cost if necessary of damping down progress at home — as a fulcrum for the lever of Soviet political power.
The differences lay chiefly in the choice of areas of exploitation. The old guard were inclined to look towards the centre, towards the manif
est contradictions of developed capitalist societies and the unstable relationships between them. The younger men looked more to the periphery, to the opportunities offered among developing societies and the relations not only between these societies but also between their own developing world and more developed countries.
There was no shadow of disagreement on the necessity to neutralize West Germany at some time, by military force if necessary. Centralists put this higher on their list of priorities, perhaps, than the others, and might have been more inclined to pre-emptive action. It was agreed policy to impair the coherence of the Atlantic Alliance wherever possible; to reduce or offset the military strength of NATO by any means that offered; and to maintain a military capability at sufficient strength and readiness to ensure that any crisis in central Europe, up to and including full-scale warfare, could be managed to Soviet advantage.
Politically the years since the re-arming of West Germany (which had to be recognized as a major setback) had seen considerable improvements to the Soviet position. The departure of France from NATO was a great gain. The Vietnam War had been a useful distraction. There had been advantage in the existence of some movement in the United States towards a degree of disengagement in Europe; in the financial and economic difficulties of the United Kingdom, particularly where balance of payments and budgetary difficulties had combined to reduce troop deployments in continental Europe — and also, peripheralists might say, in the British withdrawal from the East; in the strong growth of left-wing elements in the politics of every one of the Atlantic Allies; in a general decline among Western democracies in public interest in defence; and in certain other developments. The pursuit of detente had been helpful to the Soviet interest, and negotiations on arms limitation and force reductions had brought small but useful gains.
