This means that: 1. Soviet surprise against the U.S. is more important than surprise against Europe; 2. the strike against Europe must not precede the strike against the U.S.; 3. a strike against nuclear and strategic U.S. capabilities in Europe would be delayed until the main blow against the U.S. mainland had been launched.
This scheme is too neat if the Soviet strategists feel they must include a strike against U.S. facilities in space. This problem may remain insoluble for as long as the Soviets either don’t have a space platform whence the U.S. facilities can be neutralized or else they have directed energy weapons that can be fired effectively from the ground.
In the proximate future they may disregard the space problem and rely mainly on brute missile and high-yield power. Thus they could enact the old scenario of a surprise attack: Schematically, the ICBMs attack the U.S. ICBMs; the SLBMs go after the U.S. bombers on the airbases; and nuclear-attack submarines fire torpedoes to sink American submarines carrying SLBMs.
This strategy could result in a full American defeat, with two aspects: The Triad would be significantly reduced; and the Administration would be knocked out, or else it would capitulate. If the U.S. were defeated militarily and politically, it would be useless to worry about the defense of Europe.
Alternatively, suppose the Soviet first-strike strategy fails. In this case, the U.S. would retaliate and Soviet military power operating against Europe would be significantly reduced.
If the Soviets started their European attack before the outcome of its first strike were known, the battle for Europe would be underway and would continue. Depending on the American strengths that are remaining, the U.S. could force the Soviets to desist, or it could help Europe. If the Soviet attack against Europe had not been started, U.S. success in surviving the first strike might deter the Soviets from any adventures against Europe.
The American presence in Europe would couple the U.S. in either eventuality: The American forces overseas either would be involved by the Soviets or they would be legally at war with the USSR.
To simplify this complex, we might discuss the defense of Europe against a Soviet nuclear attack in isolation from the broader problem. We can postulate that the U.S. continues as a military factor, either because it was not attacked or because the first strike failed. It may also be postulated that if the U.S. were attacked and retaliated, the effects of the American counterattack would impair Soviet capabilities against Europe. Finally, it may be postulated that the USSR will not attack Europe with nuclear weapons for so long as the U.S. is strong enough and fully dedicated to continue with an effective strategy of deterrence. But a Soviet attack would become increasingly probable as American deterrence weakens and as European NATO separates itself from the U.S., or collapses as an effective alliance.
The assumption that the U.S. is uncoupled from Europe includes the further assumption that U.S. forces in Europe are withdrawn or stay out of the conflict.
There is no point to argue about the realism of such assumptions or about the assumption that the USSR still has the option to launch a first strike without first eliminating the American presence in space. The purpose of our intellectual experiment is merely to determine what needs to be done to render the defense of Europe militarily effective.
If the USSR deems it fairly safe to tackle offensively what it regards as its European task, it may first pick a quarrel with one or the other European states. If, for one reason or the other, it does not want to stick to conventional weapons, it may resort to nuclear blackmail. This means that it could limit itself to threats or it could fire a psycho-nuke, e.g., a demonstration shot against an unpopulated or evacuated spot. The psycho-nuke approach might facilitate the enthronement of a Communist regime. Thus it holds out the prospect of a maximal victory at no cost of blood.
If the state refuses, the USSR could place nuclear firepower on a few targets, either minimizing or maximizing population losses. If the victim state possesses a token nuclear force, it may retaliate, and if so, his weapons either may hit targets in the USSR or they may be intercepted. If the victim state estimates that it will remain in isolation and will be unable to match Soviet firepower, it may resort to some hocus-pocus, or it will surrender.
A similarly hopeless development would occur if the USSR were to pick its quarrel with the whole set of European states. It could employ psycho-nukes against some of those states, devastation nukes against others and a disarming strike against a third group. This strategy can be varied in many different ways. In such a cat-and-mouse game, the Soviets could, for example, replace the devastation nukes by chemical munitions—maybe even by biological ones—and they could employ their airborne divisions to occupy one or two capitals and implant a Communist regime from the air. The USSR has a vast quantitative and qualitative superiority; it possesses powerful weapons the Europeans are lacking and against which they have no defenses; it has a mature space deployment, and it has little to fear from a European military riposte.
European politicians shy away from such a conclusion, not because they overestimate the military strength of their countries, but because they are unable to visualize nuclear war except to cry about “holocaust.” The fact is that after thirty-odd years of NATO military policies in most European countries remain obsolete.
To break away from the tradition of loving ancient weapons, let us make the bold assumption that the Europeans realize they can’t continue to put the real burdens of security on the U.S. Henceforth they want to ensure their self-preservation, not by breaking up NATO, but by doing most of the job themselves.
So what is to be done?
Most of the key tasks appear to be obvious. European NATO is not particularly lacking in tanks, anti-tank weapons, wing aircraft, helicopters, anti-aircraft, etc. Unfortunately, the force does not exist—several forces exist, qualitatively different in many respects. Those forces are difficult to deploy geographically so that they would oppose maximal defense against Soviet invasion. This problem may not have a “solution,” but it has been unjustifiably downgraded.
It is more critical that upon receipt of strategic warning, the forces may not be mobilized in a fully coordinated and optimal manner: The timing problems of mobilization and concentration are not solved. This insufficiency is in part due to obstacles like traffic congestion and to backwardness in staff organization and practices. The chief trouble is, on the one hand, that warning cannot be handled efficiently within NATO—too many security problems remain unsolved. On the other hand, difficulties like traffic congestion versus mobilization and force concentrations cannot be managed until electronic capabilities like computers and robots are introduced on a large scale. Those devices cannot be bought from the shelf but presuppose a think-tank effort to design a “system” for mobilization and concentration.
Thus the first job to be done is to assemble the NATO forces on the battlefields in time. The second job is to reequip the combat forces with modern technology as adumbrated in Case 1.
Thereupon the third job looms large: It is to acquire defense capabilities against nuclear missile, air and ground attack.
The Europeans could go all out in producing nuclear weapons for deterrence. No doubt the nuclear imbalance calls for correction. This necessitates the liquidation of industrial lags and political obstacles, like out-of-date treaties. It is another question whether the Europeans should aim at a retaliatory strategy: Such an approach would risk devastating counterblows. A nuclear exchange would be to Europe’s disadvantage. Since deterrence based on retaliation was unavoidable only during the initial phase of the high-technology age and is now being modified by the U.S., this model is not suitable.
The slogan that Europe should increase its “conventional” forces is silly. Which conventional system can prevent nuclear blackmail or a missile attack? To be sure, the tank and helicopter forces should be increased to balance the size of the Soviet tank force more effectively. But the Soviets deploy several types of missiles that are destined for us
e in land war and that have a dual nuclear-conventional capability. The obvious and urgent requirement is to counter those missiles, the SS-21, 22, and 23, which are reported to exist in truly large numbers. A dual capability can be countered only by a dual capability, unless an electronic capability exists to shoot down the missiles with a high kill probability.
The Soviets regard the tank and the heavy helicopter, which they conceive of as a flying tank, as the key weapons of ground warfare, helped by numerous missiles, many of which can be fitted with nuclear explosives. A large effort in military robots would be an appropriate counter, provided manned weapons are available to counter the survivors, of which there will be plenty; and provided also the nuclear impacts can be prevented effectively.
Since the British acquired the Seawolf missile to intercept missiles attacking surface ships, defense missiles can be built to intercept missiles attacking troops and targets on the ground.
The same argument applies, other things being equal, to the need to intercept IRBMs and MRBMs, and especially—at this time—the SS-20.
A short while ago the notion that missiles can be intercepted was completely incomprehensible. It is now realized that through modern electronics, missile-interception is becoming feasible.
It is granted that the required technology may not be attainable very quickly. However, a crash program would seem to be in order, precisely because estimates on the required time are utterly unreliable. In any event, whether progress must be slow or can be fast, one needs to know where one is going.
Furthermore, it should be realized that the requisite electronic equipment can be designed and built by the leading European firms, which, of course, can pool resources with American firms.
Once there is clarity on those points, it may be possible to revitalize NATO, both in Europe and in North America, by centering it on a joint technological program to acquire the needed anti-missile capability. This would be a better and faster solution than to pursue modem defense on a bicontinental, let alone on a national, basis.
From there on, it should be feasible to acquire and share NATO-wide the various electronic equipment that is becoming practical, such as robots and RPVs, and to push the embedding of computers in weapons.
It also would be necessary to build a joint accuracy system to improve warning and tracking and to obtain a NATO C3 capability.
There is little doubt that the NATO forces, precisely because they have a defensive mission, must increase the numbers of their battlefield missiles and modern weapons like laser guns.
If the alliance stays together, defensive strength on the ground could be drastically increased by nuclear mines combined with robot controls, and by American neutron weapons. Chemical and biological weapons could be held in reserve to deter their employment by the Soviets.
So much for the requirements, and the potential, of a successful defense of Europe.
Unfortunately, as things stand early in 1984, the NATO forces in Europe are suffering from severe quantitative deficiencies, lack nuclear weapons (with the U.S. forces overseas being armed mainly by obsolescent nuclear devices), are threatened by massive surprise attack and are improperly equipped to tie their tactics to space sensors. The new technology cannot be effectively utilized unless it is based on space and is integrated by a C3 and correlated intelligence system.
Conclusion
The deficiency problems can be solved, but it is utterly impossible for “conventional” (i.e., obsolete) forces to survive for as long as they are unable to react to warning with timely mobilization, are pitted against across-the-board superiority, are vulnerable to surprise blows and lack the crucial technological capabilities of the epoch.
Note: The main operation that was carried out in Vietnam with smart weapons was called Linebacker II (December 18-29, 1972). More than 15,000 tons of bombs resulted in 1,318 civilian deaths, or .08 fatalities per one ton of bombs. The notorious bombing of Guernica (1937), where 40.5 tons were dropped, or 1/370th of the Linebacker II bomb load, cost 1,654 lives. Thus per ton of bombs, 500 times more people were killed during one afternoon in Guernica than during the major air assault in Vietnam, which lasted eleven days. In the Battle of Britain (June-December 1940), the civilian deaths per one ton of bombs were seven times larger than those caused by Linebacker II. The combined average of Guernica, Battle of Britain, Coventry (1940), Hamburg (July 1943), Dresden (February 1945) and Tokyo (March 1945) was 260 times more lethal, while in Tokyo, 629 times more fatalities were produced than during the Vietnam operation twenty-seven years later. (Statistical data from Air University Review, January-February 1983, p. 24.)
Editor's Introduction to:
HIDE AND SEEK
by Arthur C. Clarke
I am reminded of this story nearly every morning.
For more than a dozen years I have been the chief provisioner for a family of California jays. This is not entirely generosity: The cocky birds settle outside my study window and raise such a fuss that I can either feed them, shoot them or abandon my work.
They’re too tame to shoot. When we first moved into this house, one was already accustomed to people: My neighbor, actor John Agar, had so tamed one of the jays that he would come to your shoulder in search of peanuts and sunflower seeds. The next summer that jay brought his mate and one of his brood to my window, and since that time, several generations of jays have been taught to come annoy me whenever they are hungry.
For the past two years, though, they haven’t had it all their way. One fall there appeared on the jays’ feeding platform an obviously pregnant squirrel. After a moment’s confrontation the leader of the flock of jays was driven away; after all, a squirrel is larger than a jay, has big teeth, and is much stronger.
There began a period of guerrilla warfare. The jays may be smaller, but they’re airborne. One will distract the squirrel, while another attacks from behind, dealing painful if not injurious blows with his beak, then quickly flying away. When the squirrel turns, the first jay darts in to seize a peanut.
After the initial period of warfare, they began a new phase: The squirrel tore holes in the wire screen so that she could come into the office and help herself. It wasn’t long before the largest jay followed, until my very desk became a battleground. That ended only when I replaced the screens with wire strong enough to withstand squirrel teeth.
Then this spring the squirrel came no more. She may have been victim of an automobile, or perhaps age, or she may have been plucked from an overhead wire by the red-tailed hawks who live on the hill above us. The jays’ peace was short-lived, though: Last week a new squirrel has come. She looks to be less than a year old, and I suppose she was taught the way by her mother…
Arthur C. Clarke, Fellow of the British Interplanetary Society and Fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society, lives in Sri Lanka, a nation formerly known as Ceylon. He is considered a national treasure, and is also the Rector of one of their national universities. Every few years, Arthur swears he will never write another book, or indeed leave his beloved adopted land. However, some years ago I helped induce him to buy a computer, making it easier for him to write books; and the need for publicity tours brings him willy-nilly to the United States. On his last trip I held a party for him and explained the strange warfare outside and how it reminded me of his story, which, once thought of, would obviously fit into this book.
HIDE AND SEEK
by Arthur C. Clarke
We were walking back through the woods when Kingman saw the gray squirrel. Our bag was a small but varied one—three grouse, a couple of pigeons and four rabbits—one, I am sorry to say, an infant in arms. And contrary to certain dark forecasts, both the dogs were still alive.
The squirrel saw us at the same moment. It knew that it was marked for immediate execution as a result of the damage it had done to the trees on the estate, and perhaps it had lost close relatives to Kingman’s gun. In three leaps it had reached the base of the nearest tree and vanished behind it in a flicker of
gray. We saw its face once more, appearing for a moment round the edge of its shield a dozen feet from the ground; but though we waited, with guns leveled hopefully at various branches, we never saw it again.
Kingman was very thoughtful as we walked back across the lawn to the magnificent old house. He said nothing as we handed our victims to the cook—who received them without much enthusiasm—and only emerged from his reverie when we were sitting in the smoking room and he remembered his duties as a host.
“That tree-rat,” he said suddenly—he always called them “tree-rats,” on the grounds that people were too sentimental to shoot the dear little squirrels—”it reminded me of a very peculiar experience that happened shortly before I retired. Very shortly indeed, in fact.”
“I thought it would,” said Carson dryly. I gave him a glare; he’d been in the Navy and had heard Kingman’s stories before, but they were still new to me.
“Of course,” Kingman remarked, slightly nettled, “if you’d rather I didn’t—”
“Do go on,” I said hastily. “You’ve made me curious. What connection there can possibly be between a gray squirrel and the Second Jovian War I can’t imagine.”
Kingman seemed mollified.
“I think I’d better change some names,” he said thoughtfully, “but I won’t alter the places. The story begins about a million kilometers sunwards of Mars—”
K.15 was a military intelligence operator. It gave him considerable pain when unimaginative people called him a spy, but at the moment he had much more substantial grounds for complaint. For some days now a fast cruiser had been coming up astern, and though it was flattering to have the undivided attention of such a fine ship and so many highly-trained men, it was an honor that K. 15 would willingly have forgone.
There Will Be War Volume III Page 28
