The War Machine

 The air in the briefing room was cold. Despite the wonders of modern technology, specifically that of air conditioning, the room which was filled with computers, maps, charts and graphs and time tables remained slightly chilly, enough that Lieutenant General Dikan Vongam tugged his overcoat closer to his chest in the hope it would provide a degree of warmth while the briefing was underway. He expected to remain in this room for some time and kept some small hope in the back of his mind that perhaps when the room was more full, the heat generated naturally by the presence of human bodies would cause the mean temperature to rise. Vongam knew however that such luxuries as carefully maintained room temperature and other amenities would soon be in short supply.

There were only a few reasons why all three field army commanders would be summoned at the same time in the same place. Vongam knew the reason behind this meeting long before he had entered into his transport helicopter and flown over to the army group headquarters, nestled safely away far from the front. It was a task he had taken to with an haste accustomed to the military life, but it nevertheless irked him to be away from his forces at such a critical time. As his chopper had lifted off he had found his gaze locked on the roadways nearby, clogged as they were with trucks and armored vehicles as the six divisions under his command desperately tried to get themselves in position before the unthinkable occurred. On the ground, and even from a bird’s eye view, the whole thing appeared to be a cluttered mess of confused soldiers and lost looking tanks, no one quite certain where they were supposed to be, all of them just trying to get from one point to another as fast as possible, praying they didn’t make any major mistakes that would delay them. It was inevitable that on a mission of this scale that mistakes would happen. Most were relatively minor, fixed within minutes of the event occurring, but some were more serious and had to be addressed by the more senior officials. On more than one occasion Vongam had been unable to escape such problems and his judgement was required.

Thankfully those incidents had been few and far in between, allowing him to focus on his grand primary task; organizing his army into an effective and movable fighting force. Despite his plethora of staff officers, it was still a massive undertaking to make sense out of more than one hundred and twenty thousand soldiers and personnel under his command. It required many nights of hardly any sleep to organize and manage the formation, and therefore it was with a palpable degree of annoyance he had been pulled away from it all to attend a meeting far from the front. He understand well it’s purpose and necessity, and while he was more than confident in the capabilities of his deputy commander, it was still incessantly frustrating to leave just as things were reaching their apex.

That was the way things were as Vongam saw it. There was a point in military exercise where things simply had to happen because the weight that had been built up was simply too much to just let go. Too many storage facilities had been constructed, too many forward air fields, too many supplies of fuel, munitions, spare parts and lubricants had been stocked, too much refinements to the forward staging areas for them to just drop it all and return to their garrisons back east. No, they were reaching the pinnacle of it all; the moment where they would suddenly and irreversibly transition from one state of being to another.

In Vongam’s eyes it was nearly undeniable, and yet he couldn’t say with certainty until he was actually told it was so. For despite his impressive rank and position he was ultimately not a creator of policy but an actor, one to carry out the wills of governments and executives. He would, when the time came, give the final order, but the order itself did not originate with him. It was almost maddening to be so close to the edge, yet unable to make the final leap himself.

It made the chill of the briefing room all the more intolerable, the anxiety of waiting. It had scarcely been a quarter of an hour since his arrival, before he had been rapidly and quietly ushered deep inside the secured complex, behind reinforced walls of concrete and steel, yet if felt like he had been enclosed within this fortified coffin for an eternity. He was not alone but might as well have been; the others present apart from the assembled division commanders were small time staff personnel, low ranking officers scurrying about making sure the right folders and files were in the room, or if they weren’t, hastily departing out the double doors to retrieve the missing items. Every time they left or returned, the doors would swing on their hinges and slowly come to a stop after rocking back and forth a few times. Vongam found it impossible not to note every swing and creak of the door, every footstep echoing in the small hallways of the converted elementary school. The division commanders spoke among themselves in quiet tones that Vongam had no issue pretending not to hear.

Numerous staff officers, captains, majors, and colonels walked about, each one of them wholly consumed within their own missions and tasks, and yet every single one was working towards the same goal as Vongam. The signal officers, the logistics and supply chiefs, even the cooks were all supporting the same combat force that had gathered on the border between Poland and what used to be Belarus. So many thousands of souls, all working in unison, grinding together as one vast war machine. Technology had only increased the complexity of war, turned it’s simple formations into intricate field maneuvers, it’s weapons into high powered and long range munitions, and it’s flags and smoke signals to encrypted transmissions and radios

Vongam knew there would be a price to pay for all this. Even the simulations told the same story. The lethality of modern warfare, and the massive firepower that nations could bring to bear meant that men and formations could be obliterated in minutes; entire battalions swallowed up and divisions decimated to the point of ineffectiveness. Some part of Vongam’s mind was constantly preparing him for the unavoidable casualty reports, bracing himself for the brutally callous sheets of paper that would reduce men; fathers, brothers, sons and uncles, to mere numbers and percentages. It didn’t matter to the battlefield whom entered it it seemed, only that whomever dared join the fray could be killed. The more advanced warfare became it seemed, the more bloody and inhumane. Men were just another source of fuel, like diesel for trucks, only instead it was blood, lusted by the insatiable desire for corpses that all modern warfare seemed to possess.

Even the way they discussed their plans in briefings and meetings revealed the cold, calculating nature field commanders were supposed to take when formulating their operations. Vongam knew this well, and knew it would be coming soon, as was made clear by the arrival of his fellow army commander, Lt. General Serum, who’s forces were known as the 1st Mechanized Army. His own divisional commanders followed behind, but he paid them little attention. Vongam knew Serum only superficially; the two men had not served together before joining together in this command. Now they were expected to operate in near operational unison, each of their armies feeding off one another’s successes and advances to defeat the enemy. As their ranks indicated, neither of the two men were novices, though Vongam could not completely stifle a minute sense of inadequacy as he involuntarily compared himself to Serum. Serum had served as a Corps commander during the annexation of Azerbaijan and had served his position adequately. Serum was a man of reliability, one you could count on to tackle the task at hand. Perhaps not the most brilliant operational mastermind in the armed forces, but certainly one capable and trustworthy.

Vongam could not help but wonder where he fell in the minds of the officers of Central Command. Obviously they had trusted him enough to command the Second Mechanized Army, but was that an indication that they felt he was ready for the upcoming struggle, or were they just short of general officers? Vongam couldn’t ignore that his career up to this point was not as stellar as some of the other generals that fell under Army Group Vuttin. He had risen to this rank largely through virtue of his work as a staff officer, before finally taking over the position of deputy commander of the Far Eastern Ground Forces. It had been a strategically significant if uneventful assignment, and his tenure at the theater had been cut short when the orders came in that he was to be re-assigned, this time to the west.

Second Mechanized Army, Army Group Vuttin. Six divisions to call his own, plus army level combat and support troops. His own staff officers and deputy commander, whom had followed him here along with his chief of staff to attend this meeting of minds. Vongam was both glad and unhappy to have them here. Their support and efforts were of course invaluable, but the last thing Vongam wanted to have happen was for him to appear overly reliant on them. A good general values his staff, but still must do the overall job of commanding the unit, after all. They were good help, but in the end it was Vongam who made the decisions. He needed to show that, if he wanted to make a good impression.

It seemed almost laughable to worry about such seemingly minor nuances as the specter of war hung overhead like dark clouds in overcast, but Vongam knew it mattered more than some would give credit to it. If he appeared feeble and indecisive here, it could lead to questions about his appointment as an army commander. If things went really bad, they might even replace him. That seemed a bit unlikely however, Vongam reasoned. The eve of war was not a good time to start switching commanders in and out.

But what if they did? What if he made that poor of an presentation? What was the expectation of him by his superiors? Was he supposed to sound confident and act as though he was in complete control? Or was it acceptable for him to seem concerned, and that he needed confirmation that his plans and goals were reachable and were supported by his superiors? He wasn’t sure, and it frustrated him internally as he rose to to greet his counterpart.

Serum was about as tall as Vongam, though he looked younger and of a sturdier build. He had an undeniably handsome face and a calm if serious expression, and he showed no change or hint of emotion as he shook Vongam’s hand firmly. This was not the first time the two had met, but the previous occasions had yielded little in terms of personal relationship between the two, and Vongam found himself unable to recall specific details about the man beyond a brief recount of his career.

Serum had shown his worth as a division commander in Azerbaijan, driving towards Baku and brushing aside spirited defenders with ease. Serum’s drive was a solid example of a well ran operation, and Vongam would be lying if he hadn’t studied it on several occasions. So Serum at least could claim to have combat experience, on top of that he had done an excellent job as well.

Vongam’s own credentials weren’t poor; the readiness ratings of the Far Eastern Theater had risen during his time there, and his superior commanding officers had personally recommended him for this position. But garrison duties didn’t seem to matter much compared to actually leading troops in an armed conflict. Not that he would do much of that as a army commander; but it was still warfare. Lives would depend on his judgement and decision making abilities. It wasn’t like the sentiments they expressed during peacetime, how the safety of their homeland depended on their ability to react quickly and efficiently to potential and possible threats to their borders. This was real. This was war.

If Serum had any idea of the internal uncertainty that was plaguing Vongam, he gave no indication of it. The man’s expression was almost one of boredom, though his eyes appeared to bare a sense of wariness to them. Perhaps as a man who had faced combat before, he was better prepared for this than Vongam. But even that small brushfire conflict couldn’t possibly prepare him for the hellstorm that was soon to erupt. Azerbaijan would be a walk in the park compared to the massive forces that were massing on the borders now.

Close to two million on the Polish border alone; by comparison the two officers were just a drop in a pool of manpower. And yet as army commanders they were expected to lead massive forces on maneuvers, engaging and destroying enemy formations that were massive of their own accord. It seemed almost ridiculous outside the context of the military situation that two mere men could between themselves be responsible for the lives of tens of thousands of men. Yet that was exactly what their Russian friends were call the “objective reality”.

The coming struggle would be defined by a small cadre of general officers deciding the fates of hundreds of thousands of soldiers and supporting personnel. Even the generals themselves were being forced to support the political goals decided on by a handful of politicians. So much power held in such few hands. Vongam himself commanded a powerful force of it's own right, but it was a small component compared to the vast forces assembled across eastern Europe. In the briefing room, he could feel both very small and very powerful at the same time.

Vongam concluded the handshake with a nod. Serum seemed to appreciate the politeness of it, as he returned the nod with one of his own. It was he who started the conversation off with a simple “Good to see you again, friend.”

“I could say the same.” Vongam said. “We should enjoy it, for it seems more and more likely we’ll be confined to our headquarters for a long time in the coming months.”

“Assured of the coming war, are you?” Serum asked. Vongam couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising slightly.

“Are you not?”

Serum shrugged. “It seems inevitable at this point, to be frank."

Vongam noted the refined tone of Serum’s speech. Not only a divisional commander, but a man of education. That was supposed to be a given for an officer, but Vongam, like almost anyone whom had served in any military at some point in their life, could attest to someone of little intellect somehow finding themselves into a position of authority. Serum, at least, did not give this indication.

“I fear we have passed the point of no return.” Vongam replied, attempting to mimic Serum’s refinement. “Too much has been set in motion to see it all recalled.”

Serum’s face revealed an expression that indicated he found a level of truth to Vongam’s words. “Quite possibly.” He admitted. “I suppose only time will tell.”

Vongam nodded. “How are your preparations coming along?”

“Things could be better, but I suppose they could be worse as well. My protests of Third Army’s requisitioning of all available bridging equipment appears to have fallen on deaf ears, though at the same time I can’t blame them for focusing their attentions south. Still, I don’t see how they expect me to meet the time table for clearing the Masurian with so little support.” Serum said. Vongam could detect the slightest hint of irritation in the army commander’s tone.

“They never are accurate, are they?” Vongam said with an ironic smile.

Serum returned a small one. “The only accurate thing about them is that they will always turn out inaccurate.”

Vongam found Serum’s company acceptable, and also appreciated the General’s attitude and perception on things. Serum seemed to be a realist, and an objective one, which Vongam personally felt was underappreciated in the armed forces. Too many optimists clouded the upper echelons of command, leading to what Vongam felt were potentially dangerous ideas including the overestimation of their own armies, and an underestimation of their enemies. Too many high ranking officers has serious misconceptions about the reliability of equipment and troops, and simultaneously put too much stock in the models and projections that were all the talk in Central Command. Even now, computers ran their mathematics and attempted to determine the outcome of the impending struggle, no doubt their machinations corrupted by the bias of their programmers or designers. Vongam felt free to criticize them now, when he was out of their presence, because while studying one, Vongam found it hard to argue with the raw data. The models and projections sang similar tunes, reaching conclusions generally in line with what the operations were supposed to achieve. They would overwhelm NATO with multiple simultaneous offensives, driving deep into the heart of their formations with their massive armored thrusts, while massed artillery barrages obliterated their defenses and mechanized columns ravaged the countryside, swarming through NATO’s disoriented forces. It was spoken of in grandiose terms, envisaged in the exact manner the Kentori waged war; by conducting mass maneuvers of brigades and divisions, overwhelming their opponents with speed and firepower. It all seemed to come together so perfectly in the computer models, but Vongam knew the truth.

It would be chaos. There were a few others words that could’ve been used to describe it, but Vongam felt chaos was the best term. It was unavoidable, the mass clash of armor and men, the blasting of thousands of artillery guns, the scream and whine of jet fighters and the thundering of attack helicopters. It would be chaos certainly, to the men on the ground, the infantry, the vehicle drivers, the tankers, as they battled it out across Poland. It would be chaos to the signal troops who would have to battle the incessant enemy jamming, to the supply specialists as they tried to sort out and distribute tens of thousands of tons of ammunition, fuel, spare parts and food. The only thing preventing the chaos from reaching the upper echelons of command would be the staff officers like those who answered to Vongam, who were tasked with making sense of the influx, and sometimes absence, of information flowing in inconsistently from the lower levels of command.

It was contradictory, Vongam knew, that he was supposed to expect constant, up-to-date information on the situation of the battlefield, yet he knew damn well it would be anything but. War was a messy affair, made only more so by the marvels of modern technology. With all the advances in electronic warfare, communication jamming would be only one facet of a multi-dimensional foe he would have to face when the orders went down to cross the border. It would test him as harshly as it would the men that were his assigned infantry, tankers, artillery and air defense crews, but at least Vongam would be away from the actual fighting, rescinded to pouring over reports compiled by his subordinates and constantly requesting updates on the situation at the front.

This was a great deal many things for the Lt. General to process, and internally it wreaked havoc with his mind. Waves of anxiety and uncertainty washed over him multiple times every hour, and with the growing sense of inevitability towards the war, it was only getting worse. He had already begun to lose weight and his sleep cycle was anything but normal. On the outside however, he showed none of this. He couldn’t. Both the Kentori war machine and his subordinates and superiors alike expected to act professionally and efficiently at all times. He could show no fear or worry, no exhaustion or weakness. He needed to be a beacon of certainty and resolve in what was sure to prove extremely trying times.

It was an immense burden to bear, heavy enough to break the spirits and minds of some men. Vongam quietly insisted to himself he would not break. He could not. Too much was relying on him carrying out his duty. His nation, his people, and his soldiers were watching him. There could be no mistakes, no errors or misjudgements. He would have to ride this storm out and keep the ship steady the whole while, regardless of what it did to him and his mental state. That was just a reality of war, he told himself.

Vongam and Serum turned their heads simultaneously when the doors to the briefing room opened once more and revealed not another staff officer, but a leader of similar rank to their own. Lieutenant General Zyta Rerum walked into the room unceremoniously, his beady eyes glancing around before settling on his two counterparts. Like both Vongam and Serum, Rerum wore his his duty uniform of camouflaged jacket and trousers, but that’s where the similarity ended. Unlike the other two men in the room, Rerum was short, with darker skin than their own. His face bore an expression of perpetual annoyance, and he barely made eye contact with his counterparts before he asked of them “Is the Colonel General here yet?”

Like Serum, Rerum was a veteran of combat operations. Vongam recalled the exploits of the now well renowned tank commander during the Russian intervention. He was undoubtedly a gifted commander, and Vongam had initially been eager to meet the man himself and work alongside him. Then he had met Rerum.

There was no doubting the diminutive general officer was gifted, at least in military affairs. When it came to interpersonal relations however, much was left to be desired. Rerum was, for the lack of a better term, rough. He spoke quickly and was quick to temper if he felt he was being ignored or misunderstood. He insisted on rigorous obedience from his subordinates, and rarely waited a fraction of a second before pouncing on some poor bloke who didn’t perform perfectly in from of the Lt. General. Impatient and vulgar, it was no small wonder why both Vongam and Serum had taken a disliking to him. Rerum’s subordinate divisional officers followed him around like children, hiding behind the man that was smaller than most of them. Vongam couldn’t shake the mental sound of a whip in the back of his mind.

But at the same time, both men considered it good fortune to be fighting alongside the shorter man. His exploits in Russia were studied in every officer academy in the Union for a reason, and his assignment to the army group only served to drive home the significance of the whole situation. Central Command would not send one of it’s finest officers for a milk run. Vongam had privately acknowledged that his own actions would inevitably be compared side by side to Rerum’s own performance in the upcoming campaign. That served to both motivate and worry Vongam, but for now he brushed aside such concerns.

“He is not yet, but soon.” Vongam replied. He in truth wasn’t sure, but he didn’t believe Colonel General Vuttin would leave his army commanders waiting for long. It would be wholly uncharacteristic of him. Surely Rerum knew that as well, but apparently all that mattered to him was the fact that the group leader was not present, and that was enough to put a scowl on his face. He glanced around the briefing room with a look of distaste, as though it irked him to be here. Vongam admitted that he himself would’ve preferred to be back at his own army headquarters.

“This bus needs to leave the station already.” Rerum said after a moment, scowl adorning his lips. “There’s still so much that needs to be done.”

“I’m sure the Colonel General has his reasons.” Vongam replied. Rerum seemed to ignore his comment, preferring to walk over towards one of the chairs and plop down with an air of frustration. Vongam and Serum exchanged glances with one another, but neither officer said a word. The silence in the room spoke enough for everyone.

The doors opened once more, and the unmistakable shout of “Attention!” brought everyone in the briefing room to their feet, backs straightening and bodies stiffening. Years of military service had a tendency to instil certain habits and measures within the mind, and one of those was recognition of authority. The voice who had called belonged to another general officer, Lt. General Saman, the chief of staff for the army group. His voice heralded the arrival of the awaited, Colonel General Vuttin. The senior officer of the men assembled stepped through the door frame and into the room, raising one arm to dismissively wave. “At ease, sit down. We have little time to waste.”

Vuttin was a man of little renown, physically speaking. He was neither short nor tall, not fat or skinny, rather unremarkable with regards to his face and physique. His bland looks belied a sharp mind and good grasp of operations and logistics, something Vongam could attest to from personal experience. Unlike the other men in this room, Vongam could claim to have worked with Vuttin in the Far East, and knew that so long as Vuttin commanded the army group, they would all be in good hands.

Even son, Vongam couldn’t help but notice the slight sense of tiredness in his superior’s eyes, and the rather dismissive attitude towards formalities that was not his standard. Clearly this was an important moment, and one that Vuttin wanted to get right into. The officers present all took their seats, the army commanders with their divisional staff behind them. Colonel General Vuttin stood before them all, eyes briefly sweeping the room and it’s occupants before he spoke again."You are all gathered here for a simple reason; within 72 hours, we will commence Operation Battlecry."

To all the man gathered, the terminology was quickly translated to mean "the invasion of Europe". There were sharp intakes of breath among some of the men present, and Vongam himself was forced to control his face to prevent any sign of surprise or shock from showing. There was no reason for him to feel either emotion, seeing as he had fully expected that to be the purpose of this meeting. But to hear it spoken with such affirmation drove it home, and hard. This was really it.

"Central Command has confirmed that hostilities are inevitable, and therefore in accordance with the grand strategic plan already laid out, we will commence Battlecry once final preparations have been completed. The Field Marshal informed me earlier that the entire Western Theater will be the spearhead for the operation, as we suspected. Our objective is to break through NATO's defensive placement across the entirety of the Polish border, invalidating their stratagem and delivering an overwhelming thrust straight into their strategic rear on multiple avenues of advance. The weight of our assault and the force of it should break down NATO's command and control functionality, preventing them from organizing a coherent defense in depth, allowing us to drive to Warsaw and beyond. By the time Battlecry is finished, we will have destroyed the majority of NATO's ground forces and driven a stake right into the heart of their morale. Strategic victory over NATO should follow soon afterwards."

Vongam was well familiar with the overall aspect of Battlecry, and he heard nothing new in the Colonel General's speech. Still, there was something akin to finality this time around, as though every time before had just been fictitious, but now it was all real. Frighteningly so.

The Colonel General yielded the floor and attention to his chief of staff, Lt. General Saman, who took center stage amid a backdrop dominated by a large map of Poland. Blue and red symbols denoted Kentori and NATO forces separately, and to an untrained eye it all looked rather confusing and nonsensical. There was of course a logic to it all, as Saman explained in greater detail. "Battlecry is in essence, a relatively simple strategic offensive aimed at using coordinated direct thrusts of tank forces and mechanized infantry to overwhelm NATO forces in their entirety across the norther Polish border."

"Our three armies, the 1st and 2nd Mechanized Army, and the 3rd Tank Army will launch a coordinated strike aimed at destroying lead elements of the Polish First and Second Armies. The First Polish Army, reinforced by two British divisions, is situated in and around Bialystok and north of the Narew River. Due to Polish insistence, NATO's ground forces are organized into a forward defense very close to the actual border. The Polish First Army is operated almost entirely within 20-50 kilometers of the border, with the British operating as an operational reserve further west and north of the First Army. The 1st Mechanized Army will launch it's assault with the 103rd, 308th, and 309th Mechanized Infantry Divisions engaging and holding the Polish First Army in position while the 91st Mechanized Infantry and 211th Tank Division swing north and south respectively to outflank the Poles, and complete the encirclement of the entire enemy army. At this point, the British will likely commit their forces in an attempt to stave off the encirclement; it will be the task of the 12th Tank Division to hold their counter-attack in place until the rest of the 1st Mechanized Army has finished off the Polish forces. Once the Polish First Army has been destroyed as a fighting force and the British forced to abandon their attack, the 1st Mechanized Army will continue to advance into the Masurian Lake District, with the eventual goal of linking up with our forces in the Kaliningrad enclave."

"While this is being done, the 2nd Mechanized Army will commence it's operations into what we have termed the Narew Pocket, the lands between the Bug and Narew Rivers. The bulk of the Second Polish Army is concentrated in this pocket, and much like the First it has taken up positions very close to the border. Too close in fact; the formation has very little operational depth and only the American 4th Infantry Division is acting as it's reserve. The objective of the 2nd Mechanized Army is to force the Polish Second Army to collapse into it's own rear echelon, pinning it against both the Bug River in the south and the western banks of the Narew. With the Poles in disarray after the assault of the 77th, 321st Mechanized Infantry Divisions and the 301st Tank Division, the Americans will not be able to deploy their forces in full due to the collapsing Polish lines and be forced to either commit to a battle on unfavorable terms or withdraw. Either way, the 2nd Mechanized Army will be in the superior position within the Pocket, and form there onward will push towards the western banks of the Narew. At this point the 2nd Mechanized Army will deploy it's forces based on the situation to both it's north and south. It's likely that following the destruction of the Polish Second Army, the German reserve corps will be deployed to reinforce the front. It is critical the 2nd Mechanized Army reached the western banks of the Narew first to prevent the Germans from deploying their reinforcements in time to resurrect a NATO defensive line in the pocket.

"Finally, the Third Tank Army will commence it's operations by crossing the Bug River and engaging elements of both the Polish Second and Third Armies. Both Polish forces will be split due to the 2nd Mechanized Army, and the offensive of our friends in the Second Western Theater. The 3rd Tank Army's primary objectives will be to force a Polish collapse before NATO has the chance to order a general withdrawal to the Vistula. The 201st, 203rd Mechanized Infantry Divisions and the 2nd Tank Division will spearhead the offensive and drive the Polish back. The Poles will likely attempt to draw the 3rd Tank Army away from Warsaw. Whatever direction they do so in, they must be pursued. If they fall back to the south, then the 3rd Tank Army must coordinate with the 2nd Western Theater to ensure the destruction of the Polish forces. If they fall back to the north, they must be pushed against the banks of the Bug and destroyed, in which case the 2nd Mechanized Army must ensure the Poles do not attempt to cross the river and escape destruction. The American 3rd Infantry Division and 1st Armored Division are operating in reserve and will most certainly attempt to reinforce the Poles when they falter. The Third Mechanized must ensure that the Americans do not attempt to turn our flanks while the Poles are being engaged, and therefore the 111th Mechanized Infantry Division, and the 11th and 322nd Tank Division will operate as a ready reserve to prevent such an occurrence."

“Once this all has been accomplished, we will have eliminated nearly the entirety of the front line Polish strength in the north, leaving only second rate and reserve units behind, and NATO’s defensive strategy will be in tatters. It is critical that Battlecry be carried out to it’s maximum capability. With the envelopment and destruction of three field armies, the Polish morale will collapse, and the destruction and interruption of the enemy’s rear echelon will devastate their ability to organize a counterattack, or even form secondary defensive deployments. We will furthermore be well positioned to commence follow up offensives once the reinforcement of our second strategic echelon, the Third Western Theater, has arrived.”

Colonel General Vuttin took center stage once more. “NATO has committed almost all of it’s front line strength in a defensive posture that leaves them with little strategic depth to fall back on. Polish insistence on defending their home soil has inadvertently weakened them. They have rushed up to defend the border and in doing so have left nothing behind in their wake to fall back upon. Yes, it’s true all the NATO countries are rapidly mobilizing their reserves, but this-” He raised an arm and pointed to the map behind him, “represents the near entirety of NATO’s front line strength. Once these forces are destroyed, they will have only second rate and reservists to fill in the gaps. Follow up operations will be swift."

Vuttin swept his eyes over the generals assembled before him. They wore a mixture of faces and expressions, some serious, some concerned, others blank. There was no telling how each of them felt, though Vuttin could guess. It was irrelevant in the end; what he needed was for them to do their duties regardless of their emotions. As he expected though, there was some concern voiced by his subordinates.

Lt. General Rerum was the first to rise. “Sir, this all sounds well and good, but in practice this operation is inherently more complicated. The entirety of 3rd Tank Army will have to conduct an initial river crossing just to get into Poland. I’ve already gone over the massed barrages intended to throw off and disrupt NATO attempts to interdict the crossing, but even so it remains a monumental task, even with all the bridging equipment supplied to the army.”

“I’m aware of the concerns and difficulties facing the 3rd Tank Army. The same goes for all our forces. Rest assured, the air force and the strategic missile troops have their own plans for how to ensure NATO is kept fully occupied with the initial phase of the offensive."

The generals present all waited for Vuttin to continue, but if the senior officer had more to say, he did nothing. Rerum himself looked expectedly at the Colonel General, and when Vuttin failed to provide more information, he pressed the issue. “Sir, how exactly can the air force and the missile troops prevent a complete NATO-”

“As I said before Lt. General,” Vuttin interjected, “A plan is in place. You need only concern yourself with crossing the Bug and commencing your part of Battlecry.”

Rerum look wholly unconvinced, even annoyed, that such a critical aspect of his operation was being kept so vague. Vongam could sympathize with Rerum here. What purpose did such ambiguity serve? “Sir, am I supposed to carry out my order without air support?” Rerum asked, noticeably struggling to keep his military bearing.

“Of course not Zyta.” Vuttin said nonchalantly. “You will have proper air assets diverted to your formation once the air force has completed their initial operations. You will have your air support.”

This was hardly a comfort, but Vuttin’s stare and face made it clear he did not intend to expand any further. Rerum was forced to take his seat once more and folded his arms. Vongam couldn’t help but share Rerum’s concern. It was well known to all the men gathered here (and virtually everyone in the Kentori armed forces) that NATO’s strength was its air power. The entire offensive was hinged on contesting NATO’s control of the skies with aggressive usage of ground based anti-air units and opportunistic strikes by the air force. It seemed unthinkable to go about the operation any other way, but Vuttin’s disposition seem unmovable.

Vongam couldn’t dismiss the uncertainty he now felt going ahead. Air cover would be critical if this operation was going to be a success. Why did the air force suddenly believe they could pave the way for the invasion when for the past months he had heard nothing but complaints regarding the slow rate of arrival for the inbound fighter regiments? Was there some secret weapon they were about to unveil? No, that was foolish; this was reality, not some fictional setting created by a loser with no friends.

When the meeting was dismissed, and Vongam cleared to return to his army with his division commanders in tow, he couldn’t help but shake a growing sense of unease about the coming offensive. He had just 72 hours to prepare his forces for what would surely be one of the largest conflicts fought since the end of the second world war. The dark clouds that dominated the sky as his helicopter lifted off did little to soothe his troubled thoughts.