Repulse: Europe at War 2062-2064 (23 page)

Sir Terry may or may not be making an oblique reference to the Medway incident here.  Certainly he refused to discuss the issue on the few occasions journalists questioned him directly on it.  As he mentions, one unnecessary death is one too many in any circumstances, but he was involved in a fight for Europe’s very survival against previously insurmountable odds.  Finally, it seemed, NATO might have the means to take back that which had been taken from it, by the most brutal enemy the world had seen for more than a hundred years.  Any condemnation of a controversial decision made by a man in such an unenviable position must be subject to more than a mote of circumspection.

V. A SENSE OF URGENCY

Although some of the NATO situation briefings from May 2063 remain restricted, records from the meeting on 23 May are available.  These give the first hint of the issue which would strain the relationships between the British and US political and military leaders.  The start-date for Operation Repulse remained 1 October, but the US Army’s super AI produced a range of probabilities which favoured an earlier commencement.  The British were reluctant to bring the date forward, wary of launching the Scythes and their vast army onto the European mainland before sufficient units of the former had been manufactured, and sufficient units of the latter had been fully trained.  However, the US Chiefs of Staff pressured President Coll with probabilities based on the urgency to relieve whatever native populations survived in the conquered countries.  In addition, the number of Scythes and other equipment would be sufficient to begin Repulse from mid-July, and assuming continued and unhindered production, the operation could proceed as required.  President Coll and Prime Minister Napier had a testy virtual conference the evening before the 23 May situation briefing, with Coll eventually demanding that the start-date for Repulse be brought forward.  Napier stalled by insisting she had to consult her own Chiefs of Staff before such a radical change could be given full consideration.  One witness to the conversation described it as ‘… like watching two sworn enemies smiling and being polite, all the while wishing they could stab the other with the stilettos hidden up their sleeves’.

At the situation briefing the following morning, an aide to the RAF’s Chief of the Air Staff finished describing frontline availability of Scythe X-7s and X-9s.  The briefing was due to move on to army unit strengths when the Chief Master Sergeant of the USAF, Mark Carter, announced that his government felt the start-date for Repulse could and should be brought forward.  As Sir Terry Tidbury later wrote: ‘I tried to interrupt him, but he carried on speaking in that American nasal drawl which can so grate on English ears.  There were over twenty people around that table in Whitehall, most of whom had seen their countries destroyed.  When Carter set out the probabilities their super AI had come up with, the table erupted.  Everyone seemed to think it was obvious we should advance the start-date.  I swore silently and yet again cursed super AI and everyone’s ability to believe whatever it told them.  But what I found really hard to swallow was Coll announcing these data to the other NATO heads like this, without letting us know in advance.  She must have known the reactions from the leaders of the subjugated countries.  She set them baying for an earlier start to Repulse, and left us - the British - in a minority of one.’

American enthusiasm ‘to get on with the job’ clashed with British sensitivities concerning the importance of deploying overwhelming firepower and ensuring much of the fighting would take place in winter, a season the Caliphate’s warriors found disagreeable.  On the one hand, an analysis of Scythe production figures supports the American view; on the other, the British felt that if Repulse began too soon, some of the potential complications identified by their own super AI, albeit with vanishingly small probabilities, could become more likely to arise.  On hearing about the American plan, the other NATO leaders demanded the start-date be brought forward.  Sir Terry tried to reason, and then to compromise with a start-date of 1 September.  As he later wrote: ‘I thought the Americans had behaved poorly in this case, but I felt obliged to look at the broader picture.  We still needed half a million of their troops for the drive down France and into Spain.  As everyone else knew, other problems were surmountable: for example, our replicators could kit out the troops with summer combat uniforms at the drop of a hat.’  It was thus a short step to the British conceding for the sake of NATO unity, and in respect for the feelings of those leaders, troops and refugees from the occupied European countries.  The start-date for Operation Repulse was brought forward to 1 August 2063.

This decision led to increasing activity throughout June and July.  On 3 June, both Norway and Sweden approved plans for Operation Cloud Cover.  Electromagnetic noise began beaming out from these countries for anyone who wished to listen.  Thousands of dummy ACAs in the shape of the old PeaceMakers were replicated at English airfields and sent across the North Sea, to see if they would provoke a reaction.  They did not.  After the war, investigations showed that an element of complacency had crept into Caliphate warriors.  This was not for a lack of discipline, but rather a belief that the war was over.  As G. K. Morrow asserted, somewhat lyrically, in
The Great European Disaster
: ‘The Caliphate warrior was a simple, brutal creature better suited to the wars of centuries past.  He considered that a vast and foully unjust historical wrong had been righted, and many of them enjoyed the spoils of war in the most violent and basest manner.  The Caliphate kept one eye on the British Isles in the same manner as a lion, which is feasting on a fresh kill, might keep one eye on another antelope looking on from a distance in impotent dismay.’

This did not mean NATO could take the element of surprise for granted.  When delivery driver Muhammad Shah took an image of a convoy of covered Scythes in transit through the town of Haywards Heath, England, and replayed it to a few friends, he was unnerved by the reaction it provoked from the authorities.  He later recalled: ‘I got an audio-only call, which made me suspicious, and the voice told me to be more careful in future.  I asked him who the hell he thought he was, weren’t we safe enough now?  He said: “If you continue to compromise the security of our military, you may be detained for further questioning.”  I called him a “tosser” and ended the connection.  I mean, really, it was a pretty harmless image - what was all the fuss about?’

Shah had the sense not to repeat his indiscretion, but his example was one of many.  The plans for Repulse were known only to the most important political and military leaders.  Ordinary citizens, having lived in mortal fear for months, breathed in relief when the Falaretes proved that the British Isles could be defended successfully.  This engendered a stronger hope for a return to normality among the civilian population.  Twenty-six-year-old London-based nanny Jade Graham spoke with eloquence and for many when she wrote to a friend: ‘I took the children to the park yesterday and watched them “fish” with sticks they found by the water’s edge.  I closed my eyes and listened to their laughter mixed with the chatter from the birds in the trees.  I do hope for their sakes that it’s over.  We can be safe now, and I think we need to concentrate on protecting what we have left.  If you don’t look at the Falarete batteries at every road junction, you can almost feel like you felt before the war.’

VI. CONCERNS AND COURAGE

A number of NATO super AIs gave varying probabilities of the Caliphate responding to Repulse with nuclear weapons.  Much depended on events which were difficult to foresee.  Senior Repulse planner Lesley Elliot said after the war: ‘None of the super AIs could guess which way the Caliph would react when Repulse kicked off and if the operation met its objectives.  This was the big unknown.  In NATO we still had open debate and a sense of democracy, but over there it was just him.  Most of us believed that if any of his Council of Elders disagreed with him, they didn’t last long.  Up to that point, he’d worked to keep global public opinion mostly on his side.  So how would he react when we fought back?  Would they come at us with nuclear weapons?  It gave me a few sleepless nights, I can tell you.’

Despite the advances NATO made as a result of the SHF burners allowing it to listen to partial Caliphate transmissions and the wealth of data obtained by scanning injured warriors’ brains, there remained substantial gaps in knowledge about the enemy.  This in turn allowed the super AIs to produce a whole range of potential outcomes for Repulse, from complete victory to the wholesale irradiation of Europe.

On 8 June, a number of British media outlets took the unusual step of jointly publishing the same story verbatim.  In the eleven months since the Caliphate secured the European mainland, over a dozen investigative journalists had embarked on clandestine trips across the English Channel to try to find out conditions there.  All disappeared without trace.  The media outlets decided to publish profiles and tributes to the individuals.  This caused a backlash from friends and relatives, who wished to believe their loved ones were still alive (in the event, all had indeed perished).

Three days later, Gen. Hastings travelled to Whitehall to discuss Operation Thunderclap, the codename given to his mission to disable the Caliphate’s central ACA production plant at Tazirbu in the Libyan Desert.  Prime Minister Napier, Defence Minister Liam Burton and a number of other high-ranking English officials attended to hear the latest plan.  Hastings delivered his presentation in clipped words and short sentences. 
HMS Warspite
would take him and his five-man team from Faslane in Scotland into the Mediterranean and drop them close to the coast at Al Uqayla.  This would be the most dangerous part of the journey, as the submarine would have a maximum of ten minutes on the surface before the probability of detection became a certainty.

Hastings would then use the motorbikes to travel the six-hundred kilometres to Tazirbu.  Once there, he and his team would reconnoitre the plant and subsequently do their utmost to destroy as much of it as possible using a new type of sonic mine.  Each mine did contain elements of modern technology to generate extremely powerful, ultralow sound waves, but was also sealed in protective coverings which ensured it could not be detected.  Once inside Caliphate territory, communications would be impossible.  As with Giuseppe Rossi, the Italian sailor who took relief to southern Italy in the early stages of the war, Hastings understood that he had to carry out the attack with no other modern technology, in order to escape detection.

Sir Terry Tidbury gave Hastings a public vote of approval, and the audience asked questions.  In
In the Eye of the Storm
, Sir Terry described this meeting as: ‘… very positive.  Obviously the military people there understood everything, but Napier and Burton asked a few mostly practical questions, and left satisfied.’  In stark contrast, however, Napier’s aide Crispin Webb later wrote in his diary: ‘I think the General and his team must be out of their minds.  Seriously?  They propose to go right inside Caliphate territory with no modern tech, and try to destroy facilities which in combination produce ten thousand ACAs a week?  The boss asked a couple of questions, one about how long
Warspite
would wait before concluding the mission must have failed.  Hastings answered her with precise times and other numbers.  I had to stop my head shaking from side to side in disbelief.  Whatever the General thinks, I reckon his plan is nuts and he and his men have precisely zero chance of success.’

VII. READYING THE ARMIES

With the start-date brought forward, plans for troop movements accelerated.  Little information was given to either the troops concerned or the civilian population.  Ricky Young, a twenty-two-year-old signaller with the Royal Armoured Corps, bemoaned in a communication to his parents: ‘We’ve been having a great time up here in Market Rasen.  But last night the Sarge told us we’re being transferred down south in a couple of days.  When one of the girls asked him what for, he replied: “None of your fucking business, Muppets.  Just shut up, pack your kit up, and clean your billets up.”  We all laughed anyway.  I mean, I think he was joking.’

Better informed individuals deduced what the extent of the troop movements portended.  Master Sergeant Lewis Hussain was two ranks below those who were informed of Repulse.  In charge of stores for the British First Corps in Northern England, he said after the war: ‘You didn’t need to be a genius to realise that these movement orders must have meant we were going over soon.  I had to slap one of the youngsters for blurting it out loud.  Most of us knew better than to talk about it to anyone.  A couple of nods over the last drink of an evening in the mess were as far as we went in discussing it.’

Another issue over which planners debated concerned providing support for the surviving populations.  Repulse required the armies of the democracies to advance at an even faster pace than that which the Caliphate enjoyed during its invasion the previous summer.  Super AIs produced a range of figures for the numbers of remaining refugees who might have escaped the Caliphate’s attentions.  Each army would take its own food replicators and following waves would bring more, but as one medical orderly put it at the time: ‘Of course you can feed fit troops on endless pizza and burgers, but we expected to find thousands of survivors on the brink of starvation, really emaciated.  And you can’t give that kind of fatty food to people in such a condition.  Why they couldn’t come up with a food replicator which could produce something healthier, I simply don’t know.’  Unknown to the orderly, the newly formed Army Supply Corps had been investigating precisely this, and from September relief waves would carry with them the forerunner of the Universal Food Replicator, which would play such a pivotal role in post-war Europe.