“We shouldn’t.” said Cooper seriously. “It’d be bad luck … she’s gone. We’ll get a new tank with a new name. End of story.”
The three continued on in silence through the gullies of the Belarussian countryside.
The gullies were the most likely place for the troops of either side to bivouac for the night. They had to stop several times to listen for sounds of movement ahead.
Through the gloom, Cooper made out signs of an encampment ahead.
He raised his hand and then pointed. “No sound …”
They crept forward for a few yards, then relaxed, it was deserted. A wide area among the trees was littered with garbage and discarded equipment, abandoned in the haste of evacuating. The trio found a water drum, and filled an empty canteen. The cap leaked, but it would stay full if not turned upside-down. They rummaged through some cartons and found a packet of biscuits. Although stale, they silenced grumbling bellies, and gave the satisfaction of an unexpected find.
“Better keep moving,” Cooper said as he picked up his sub-machine gun. “There’s still miles to go, and we’ll have a better chance of getting through the Russkie lines while its dark.”
The progress in the near-total darkness was slow. For hours they followed the lines of creek beds and gullies, having to clamber up to the steppe plateau every now and then so they could get a better view of the stars and take a bearing. On one such ascent, Cooper stopped suddenly and waved the other two to get down. He thought he saw a figure in the gloom. He had to look slightly to one side of where he thought it was, so he could make out the silhouette. Then there!
Fifty yards away, but it was hard to gauge distance.
He hissed to the others, “Sentry!”
“We need to get past him, he’s standing on the lip of this gully … means there’s probably more of them down in the trees. We can’t risk going out in the open to get around him.”
Keponee moved forward and drew his knife. “He’s mine.”
Cooper watched the gunner crouch low and silently move off to stalk his quarry. He thought how valuable all of the additional training in recon tactics at Camp Hood had now become.
Keponee on the other hand, was thinking how all of the time spent hunting in the Canadian Rockies was now going to help him.
As the minutes passed, Cooper strained to keep his eye on the sentry. He only caught glimpses of him when he moved, and a star on the horizon would blink out before re-appearing.
C’mon Keponee …
Anxious minutes passed before a rustling heralded the gunner’s return.
“He’s down,” Keponee said with the indifference of an assassin.
“What’s there?” Cooper asked.
“Tanks. Looks like T34s.”
“Those old tin cans?” Cooper whined, “They remind me a duck every time I see one … little head on a big body. They must be here in reserve – they certainly aren’t their front-line armor.”
He thought about just skirting around the top, but there might be more guards further ahead. Then he had another idea, “C’mon, let’s go visit Ivan.”
∞
Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.
John 8:32
Mojave City
2266 CE
Arjon looked across from the podium to the eaves. Eya clasped her hands together in support and gave him a reassuring smile. Her husband’s face appeared on the screens around the Great Hall, then he spoke, haltingly at first.
“Fellow members … of our wonderful … Free … World.”
His nerves calmed, bolstered by the confidence drawn from his years of courtroom oratory. Standing there, looking out into the crowded hall, and aware of the multitude that would be watching and listening, it dawned on him that they were all the same as he: like-minded and rational human beings. He wasn’t about to undermine their perfect world – just try to enhance it.
“I stand before you, not as a representative of any of the Pillars of our democratic society, but as an objective outsider; an independent arbiter, so that there is no question of self-interest with respect to what I am about to disclose.”
He smiled at the world, relishing this opportunity. He was delivering a message that would raise their understanding – their view of themselves, and of those who had come before them. He indicated to the huge screen behind him.
“The Four Pillars have agreed that the technology that has produced the alternative history about to be presented is as valid as any version derived and interpreted from traditional historical research… as performed by humans.”
He paused a moment to allow the audience to digest the meaning of his words, then continued. “This will be a brief excerpt from that alternative history.”
Hesta’s simulation, starting with General Patton’s near-miss began. The summary highlighted the Cold War. The half-century of misdirected production where enough nuclear weapons were built to wipe out all life on the Earth fifty times over. The narrative told of the events that would have occurred had the Union of Nations been undermined at its founding. The communist aggression that ensued in Asia, the invasion of Tibet and the resulting genocide. The wars and military industrialization continued through to the twenty-first century, and more importantly, the simulation showed what the decades of military build-up would have cost the human race.
If those resources had been devoted to a saner purpose, the alternative humanity would have avoided the oppression of tyrannical regimes and the ongoing wars to defeat them, environmental crises, famine and other global tragedies.
For almost an hour, the world watched in stunned silence, before a collective moan signified the end of the presentation.
Arjon explained, “So you see, over two and a half centuries ago, a singular event occurred, an accident, which had it turned out differently, would have shaped our world in ways we would prefer not to imagine.”
He glanced across to Eya, seeking confirmation that it was going well. She glowed with pride and a serene calm, which flowed between them. Drawing courage from this moment of emotional union, Arjon proceeded with his speech.
“We do not live in a world divided by ignorance, aggression, or any of the myriad other failings of our pre-Pillar history.”
The audience before him seemed exhausted, but he managed to regain their attention, “And in one of the greatest ironies one could conceive … we owe our perfect way of life – to the victories won by our ancestors…”
Another pause, as he sensed his words may now be falling on dissenting ears. He sensed some resistance to these conclusions, but continued, “… to the foresight, resolve … and sacrifice, of those who took action at a critical juncture – when the future of our world was in a perilous balance.”
His closing sentence echoed out above the silent crowd, and drifted up into the vast expanse toward the Hall’s smooth white ceiling. Arjon looked up, and instead of feeling enclosed inside a building, allowed his mind to roam out into the solar system. He could see humanity one day reaching to the stars, and the prosperous activity already under way on the asteroids and planets of their home system. His perspective turned back to the Earth, so small and tentative among the immensity of the universe, but also so dynamic and beautiful.
With those who had come before in mind, he called aloud, “Thank you!”
He bowed gracefully, then left the podium, his contribution complete.
The Orator returned to the stage.
The crowd settled, as though the Orator’s established authority would help to put their minds at ease.
“The Center of Truth has verified the preceding simulation using the most advanced artificial intelligence technologies available.”
That quietened any doubts within the audience.
“It follows, that the Four Pillars of our society, Sanity, Evolution, Unity … and Truth, are in confluence with a new resolution.”
A murmur ran throughout the Hall and diminished again as the Orator raised
his voice.
“The Four Pillars, previously thought to encompass all of humanity’s highest aspirations, and being the embodiment of who we are as a species, and who we wish to be … are in need of a re-evaluation of this all-encompassing perspective.”
The murmuring resumed, what did this mean? Perfect societies aren’t altered with a change of direction of the wind, or the findings of a single Enlightenment.
“It is proposed that a new Pillar be founded – one which will utilize the technology demonstrated here today, to formalize a strategic direction for the Free World as we head for the stars.”
“The fifth Pillar will be the Directory of Purpose. Its charter, structure and methodology will be proposed by contributions from the other Pillars, however, as determined by the purest form of democracy, its final form will be approved by citizen referendum.”
A spontaneous cheer erupted. The good sense of the proposal was instantly recognized. A Pillar to guide humanity, working with the assistance of the other Pillars, it seemed so simple – why hadn’t it happened before now?
“In addition, and in honor and recognition of those recently confirmed to be instrumental in the founding of our Free World, there will be a new flag for the Union of Nations – also to be chosen by referendum.”
On the screens, several images appeared. At their center, most conspicuous and seemingly the most likely to be selected, was an ensign comprised of a navy-blue background, with a circle of silver stars. Each star represented one of the pillars, with the fifth star also being cognizant of the five-star General featured so prominently in the latest Enlightenment.
∞
Krynki Salient,
May 13th, 1946
0330 HRS
“What the hell are all these pedals for?” Greene whispered in the dim glow of the T34’s battery lighting.
Cooper leant through and pointed to each one “Fuel injection, clutch, brake …”
“Ok I got it … what about that one?”
“Don’t touch that!” Cooper seethed, “It’s the Desantov – it sets off a device that disables the tank.”
“You’re kidding me? This bucket of bolts has a self-destruct button?”
Keponee was inspecting the gun aiming mechanism. He asked Cooper, “Hey, how come you know so much about this tank?”
“I was at Aberdeen Proving Grounds in ’42 when we tested an earlier model, and that one was even more cramped that this.”
The gunner was peering around the interior of the turret, counting the 75mm ammunition, “Hey, I only see nine rounds – where’s the rest?”
“You’re standing on it,” Cooper replied as he looked through the commander’s periscope. Totally dark as expected – it was still hours till dawn. They’d chosen a T34 on the southern outskirts of the tank park with no significant obstacles preventing them getting a clean exit up on to the steppe.
They turned off the interior lights so no light would show when they opened the hatches.
“Don’t turn on the headlights unless we absolutely have to – we don’t want to give them a target to shoot at.”
Greene nodded, and silently opened the driver’s hatch. Popping his head out, it was completely dark under the camouflage netting draped between the trees. He knew that unseen sentries were all around, they’d bypassed several while creeping through the tank park.
After waiting a few minutes for his eyesight to adjust, he could make out the barely discernible lightness of the sky above the horizon to the east. Then he made out the lighter shade of the trail leading out of the trees, and up to the flat grassland above.
He gave a thumbs-up to signal his readiness, then when there was no response, he realized no one could see his gesture.
“Ready,” he whispered.
A slap on his shoulder gave him the go-ahead.
The tank’s engine roared to life, and Greene pushed hard on the control levers. The tank lurched forward, chased by the sound of shouts of alarm from the guards.
At first, the startled soldiers weren’t sure who was responsible for the T34’s sudden departure, so no shots were fired. An officer roused from his tent immediately thought it was a desertion, and so began giving orders for a pursuit.
Cooper flipped open his hatch to get a better look, but found it opened forwards, and blocked any view in that direction.
Shit, how the hell do the goddammed Reds see where the hell they’re going?
He leaned out sideways, then without helmet intercom, had to yell down to Greene to be heard over the din of the engine, “Straight ahead for a hundred yards, if the gully branches off, follow it to the right!”
“Kep, swing the turret forty-five degrees so I can see where we’re going!”
As Greene pushed them up to twenty miles per hour, the duck head turret swiveled around. Cooper could now make out the ground further ahead. He saw the lighter-colored patches of grassland, leading up to a black expanse.
“Greene!” he shouted urgently. “Gully! Turn! NOW!”
The driver pulled with all his might on the sluggish levers and the chassis moaned from the effort. The T34 slowed and turned in time, causing a small landslide to release from the top lip of the gully.
Hundreds of yards behind them, two tanks lumbered off in the vain hope of catching them, or even sighting them in the darkness.
Cooper wasn’t worried about any pursuit from behind. What worried him more was what lay ahead. They had to find the main road back toward Krynki, or risk running into trenches filled with Russian infantry, minefields, anti-tank guns … he had to stop himself thinking about the possibilities and to focus on keeping them on course. For the first time in an hour, he felt the pain in his shoulder flaring up, aggravated by the vibration through the rumbling tank.
At least it’ll help me stay awake.
Half an hour later, the lightening sky was making it harder to pick out the star they’d been following.
Greene suddenly accelerated, snapping the others out of their dull half-sleep.
“Man up!” he shouted .
A whooshing sound surrounded the tank, followed by a hollow repetitive snapping.
“What is that?” Cooper called to his driver.
“A tent!” answered Greene, “Here’s another one!”
This time the whoosh – slap, was accompanied by a gentle bumping. Bodies, asleep – never to awaken.
They motored on through the infantry camp, not hearing the commotion they left behind.
Minutes later, the first bluish glow of dawn seeped up from the eastern horizon.
Good, direction confirmed. “Stay sharp! The Reds’ll be getting their breakfast soon,” said Cooper.
A flat land sprinkled with shrubs and a few trees spread out for miles on either side. Straight ahead, he could make out something else, something not at place with the natural contours of the land. Enemy lines.
Cooper instinctively reached for his field glasses which usually hung around his neck, but they weren’t there. As his good hand groped at his chest for a second, he sighed with the realization that they’d been lost along with the Chaffee.
What he wouldn’t have given to be able to stop and zoom in on the obviously heavily defended plain ahead of them.
“Close hatches.”
He dropped down and closed his own hatch. The scene through the periscope gave him the feeling of being in a fish tank. The world outside was slightly out of focus, and being surrounded by so many enemy they might as well have been in a fragile box made of glass.
As they got closer, Cooper got Greene to slow down so they would attract less attention. Through the scope, he could make out a criss-crossing network of earthworks – trenches fronted by barbed-wire, and then a concrete bunker another hundred yards away. Nearby, a group of soldiers stood up out of their weapon pit and began waving.
“Just keep rolling through … remember there’s a red star on the turret.”
Keponee, his face pushed up against the gunsight, grinned at t
he reception they were getting, “Huh, this piece of crap must be reminding them of Stalingrad …”
Cooper swung his scope to the forward view. His pulse quickened as he saw an officer step out on to the dirt road and raise his arm.
“Greene …”
“I see him.”
“Ok … let’s start slowing down as though we’re about to stop …”
“Ya sure? What’ll that look like when we go right through him?”
Cooper pictured the scene in his mind: a tank slows down then suddenly speeds up to go through an officer hailing it to stop. He could see Greene’s point.
“You’re right, better if it looks as though we just don’t see him … maintain this speed. Everyone ready – pick your targets!”
The latter command had just been a reflex … one for a full crew of five including a bow gunner. Then he remembered there were only three of them.
He searched the approaching defenses through his scope, “Kep! 57mm AT dug in at ten o’clock! Take him out first, then choose your own targets.”
The overweight duck sailed past more waving troops. The officer, an NKVD political commissar intending to check why a valuable T34 belonging to the victorious 2nd Guards Tank Army, appeared to be heading straight toward the American lines on a suicide mission.
He started waving frantically. When he realized that the tank wasn’t slowing for him, he pulled out his pistol and started firing into the air.
“Buckle up boys!” Cooper shouted.
The officer lowered his hand-gun, dumbfounded, and feeling embarrassed in front of the surrounding troops at the lack of a response.
Thirty tons of unstoppable ironclad bore down on him as though he didn’t exist.
At the last second, he jumped out of the way to avoid being crushed. The soldiers nearby broke out laughing, but quickly stopped when the despised and feared NKDV man raised his gun again.
Cooper swung his scope around. “They must have bought it, there’s no …” and then cut himself off as he saw something in the distance.
The Free World War Page 17
