Shattered World - A Worse World War : Part 43

The last Spring of Hope

March 28th 1948 to June 2nd 1948

Adolf Galland Air Base, Kiev, Nationalist Republic of the Ukraine: The weather in the central Ukraine was excellent, unlimited visibility in all directions and no sign of changing conditions for some time. Generalfeldmarschall Walther Weaver stood in the control tower and surveyed his surroundings. Several rotating radar arrays kept a vigilant watch for unknown aircraft, ready at all times to guide the new anti-aircraft surface to air missiles as well as numerous AAA guns. The Red Air Force was an ever present eastern threat.

Numerous 'Swallow' and 'Predator' jet fighters were on patrol at all times, ground crews performed maintenance on several of the jet fighters in concrete hangars several hundred meters to the north. These jets were refined birds of prey, late model variants designed and built with several years of war fighting experience as guide.

The Soviets, with their propeller driven antiques, would be hard pressed to deal with the Luftwaffe's latest aircraft. But then, the Bolsheviks always did go for quantity over quality. Their aircraft were junk, with a few exceptions, and their pilots were clumsy fools on average - but there were a lot of clumsy fools and a lot of junk planes in the Red Air Force. Shrugging aside thoughts of the local balance of forces, Walther turned his attention to his true passion, his reason for remaining in service to the Reich despite his advancing age.

Made clear through his standard Luftwaffe field glasses, an aging and venerable 'Ural' bomber lumbered towards the runway with several companion bombers trailing not far behind. A grimace appeared on Walther's face as he watched the old bomber touch down, followed not long after by three other identical planes. With the air war stalemated and bloody over North Africa, Norway, and the Channel (and with the situation worsening in Iraq) he knew he should be happy that Goering had agreed to send any additional heavy bombers to the Soviet frontier at all. The thought brought little comfort.

The newer, larger, and sleeker looking prototype heavy bomber that sat on the runway close to the control tower was a much better site to his worn and sore eyes. Thinking back over his years in the Luftwaffe, Walther couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. If Kesselring and Goering had granted him more authority to push heavy bomber development during the Eurasian War he could have delivered the Reich transcontinental bombers with the range to hit America and eastern Siberia by now. Instead...instead he had been lucky to get funding to upgrade the long obsolete Ural fleet. However, as the threat from America grew and the war remained in stalemate, the Führer had finally intervened in his favor. Finally, in the twilight of his career, he had a heavy bomber to match anything in service in the world today - or rather - he had three such bombers, precious prototypes. One of them had been sent here for flight testing in field conditions. Having already been scheduled to tour the Soviet frontier airfields it had been easy to arrange to see the fruits of his long labor.

The four engine Junkers Ju-588 was superior in all regards to the British Lancaster bomber and a rival for the American B-31. Compared to the Ural bombers parked nearby it was very streamlined and modern in appearance, not at all dissimilar to the American B-31 - although with the classic Junkers tail wing assembly to give it a unique appearance. It could deliver large payloads deep into Soviet territory east of the Urals and anywhere in Europe and the middle east from various Luftwaffe bases. Finally, real power projection for the Luftwaffe!

Walther coughed twice and was forced to remember again his age and his worsening physical condition. His dream of a true transcontinental bomber would have to wait for awhile and would likely come to full fruition after his battle with lung cancer was long over. He could only hope that he had done enough to aid the Reich.

As the Ju-588 began to taxi onto the main flight line for another test flight Walther found himself lost in thought - of the future he would never see, of the titanic and bloody stalemate the Reich found itself in, of looming danger in the east, of battles won and lost and those yet to come.

March 28th 1948

In Tunisia the latest half-hearted Italian thrust towards Tunis has been repulsed with heavy losses. Free French forces are now well equipped with the latest U.S. small arms including M1 carbines, anti-tank "bazooka" rockets, and other light weapons. The Italians have moved the bulk of their heavy forces east to face the British in Libya. In addition, the Free French have completed the construction of a rail line linking Tunis to Algeria and northwest Africa with the aid of U.S. credit and railroad construction companies.

April 2nd 1948

In Vladivostok a Japanese cruiser is destroyed in the harbor by a limpet mine placed by Soviet divers. The Japanese, rightly suspecting that the commandoes were aided by local resistance fighters, will launch a brutal crackdown on the civilian population of the port city. The Japanese have noted a sharp upswing in the amount of resistance activity throughout occupied coastal Siberia and they reach the obvious conclusion - the guerillas are receiving large-scale aid from the Soviet Union itself. Unfortunately, with the present war in the Pacific and southeast Asia deteriorating there is nothing they can do about it.

April 5th 1948

The U.S. BT2D 'Dauntless' III naval attack bomber sees its first combat when a squadron launched from the carrier USS Yorktown attacks Japanese coastal fortifications and supply dumps on the Marshall Islands. The plane will quickly become the terror of Japanese forces across the Pacific.

In a major step forward for U.S. naval aviation, the first prototype of a carrier-based jet successfully takes off and lands from an aircraft carrier near San Diego. The jet, the F9E 'Panther', is the most advanced naval aircraft in the world by a long shot.

The U.S. ‘Eagle’ air force jet fighter project has been progressing as well and prototypes are beginning to take to skies on bases in the southwest U.S. This jet somewhat resembles the German ‘Predator’ with its swept wings and sleek lines. Its engine is superior to anything the Germans have yet produced and promises to even the playing field when it goes into mass production towards the end of the year.

The BT2D 'Dauntless' III attack bomber is essentially identical to the early-model A1 Skyraider of our timeline. The carrier jet is the F9F Panther of our timeline with minor variations.

The ‘Eagle’ jet fighter is a design with no direct analog from our timeline but in terms of overall performance characteristics it resembles the best U.S. jets of the mid-1950’s of OTL with, of course, the exception of the electronics which are late 1940’s vintage.

April 11th 1948

With the ground campaign in central Iraq beginning to bog down due to horrible British logistics and unusually harsh dust storms - the British begin to step up their bombing campaign in Iraq. British Lancaster, B-31, and other small bombers hammer Baghdad and Mosul for three straight days causing extensive civilian damage. The main goal of the British bomber offensive is to draw the Luftwaffe into an open fight - and in this they succeed.

During these three days the Luftwaffe loses some 41 interceptors in exchange for 67 British fighters and bombers. This is a rate that neither side can sustain in the Iraqi theatre, especially the overstretched Luftwaffe. The Luftwaffe theatre commander, watching his pool of aircraft shrink before his eyes, is forced to curtail operations. The tide in the air over Iraq has turned in favor of the British.

April 18th 1948

In a speech before high ranking Kriegsmarine officers in Berlin Admiral Doenitz uses the term 'Happy Time' to refer to the growing success of the submarine offensive in the eastern Atlantic. The state-of-the-art type XXVI submarines have finally become available in large numbers and are beginning to wreak havoc in the Alliance shipping lanes around the British Isles and in the eastern Atlantic in general.

The British, confronted with sharply increasing losses in merchant tonnage, are forced to cut back on rations at home and increase the amount of resources being put into naval convoys and escorts of all types.

April 20th 1948

Despite the chaos and general collapse in Thailand, Japanese forces have been able to reassert some semblance of order in Indo-China. Ho Chi Minh's rebel forces still control much of the countryside but the Japanese have crushed resistance in the cities and control most of the main roads.

The remnants of Japanese forces in Thailand are streaming, mostly by foot and whatever mechanized transport they can steal or scrounge together, east into Indo-China where local commanders are hastily trying to integrate them into existing units. The Japanese high command, aware that the Thai-Chinese border is too rugged to make a realistic attack route for the allies, begin to prepare defenses along the flat terrain along the Chinese/Indo-China border. Roads need to be mined, towns fortified, anti-tank forces prepared.

Patton stared at the Vietnamese guerilla leader across from him and nodded in agreement before shaking hands with the man - 'Ho Chi' or something or other was his name. What mattered was that he could hurt the Japanese and help him move supplies through the jungles of Indo-China. He'd have to send the guerilla leader up the chain of command to Bradley's headquarters in Bangkok - Omar would put him to good use. The guerilla leader smiled for a moment, nodded, and quickly left the tent with his gaggle of heavily armed body guards and advisors in tow. A dangerous man, Patton thought. Too bad for the Japanese.

April 23rd 1948

After two months of sustained air attacks against the island of Formosa, Japanese air defenses there have effectively been crippled. U.S. heavy bombers are now carpet bombing targets there and meeting little effective resistance. However, the Japanese navy maintains a credible threat in the waters of the South China and Philippine seas - ruling out the possibility of an invasion for the time being.

April 25th 1948

With U.S. forces in the Pacific still preparing for new offensive operations, the planning staff of the newly formed Strategic Bombing Command, or SBC, have had a tough decision on their hands - where to use the next nuclear bomb? After more than a week of hotly debated meetings the issue was finally decided.

The U.S. launches operation 'Yellow Blossom' in the early morning hours. A lone B-31 bomber, escorted by a squadron of fighters launched from an aircraft carrier in the choppy seas south of the Caroline Islands, approaches the Truk Atoll from the southeast. Radio confirmation is received onboard the B-31 bomber 'Jenny’s Love' that phases one and two of the operation have been completed. Carrier bombers and fighters have successfully attacked targets across the Caroline Islands, each of the targets carefully chosen to divert Japanese fighters away from the main target.

And so, at 11:13 local time an atom bomb drops from the bomb bay of 'Jenny’s Love' and the pilot turns sharply to avoid the coming blast. Luckily for the Japanese they have already largely dispersed their fleet and only three minor warships and four merchant vessels are lost along with roughly 4000 soldiers and workers in the docks and other facilities close to the targeted anchorage. As the crew of 'Jenny’s Love' celebrate the devastation they have witnessed through high powered cameras they take little notice when the fighter escorts around them suddenly leap into action.

Several minutes later a Japanese Shinden jet fighter, which has managed to punch through the swarm of escorts, lines up on the 'Jenny’s Love' and puts several cannon rounds through one of her engines along with several dozen machine gun rounds into the fuselage. The atomic bomber will crash into the sea near Truk several minutes later - it is the first combat loss suffered by the newly born Strategic Bombing Command.

The atomic bomb used against Truk was an 18 kiloton device, detonated at sea level to effectively destroy any vessels in the vicinity of the blast. In addition to the immediate destruction of the targeted anchorage and nearby docks and other facilities, a radioactive mist plume thrown up in the initial blast will contaminate the entire Atoll for some time, rendering the Truk Atoll essentially useless for strategic operations for several weeks until hasty cleanup measures can be taken. Unfortunately, the U.S. had not anticipated this effect and did not therefore have forces in place to take advantage of this radically shifted strategic situation.

May 2nd 1948

Germany launches operation 'Case South' in Norway - it is nothing less than a bid to finish the fighting in Norway once and for all. German paratroopers, backed with a massive surge of Luftwaffe airpower, land in and near the critical far-northern ports of Narvik, Tromso, Alta, and Kirkenes. Fighting is heavy and confused in the early hours, and by noon the main fist of the German operation is punching forward. Striking directly north into the brunt of Alliance defenses along the center of the front, specially trained German panzergrenadier units leapfrog forward in combination with small SS commando units deployed by helicopter. The tactic catches the British completely off guard and Alliance forces are in full retreat by the end of the day.

May 4th 1948

The German airborne assaults on remaining free Norwegian ports are partially successful. The ports at Narvik and Alta are seized but British and Norwegian forces control the rest of those cities. Tromso falls into German hands with barely a shot fired but the German airborne assault on Kirkenes is a complete disaster with many of the troops freezing and drowning in the frozen waters off the coast and many of the rest cut to pieces by Alliance AAA positions.

May 6th 1948

Narvik falls into German hands as the rest of the Alliance front in the region begins to crumble. The German use of the helicopter to deliver commando units where they are most needed is proving to be a huge success. This, in combination with tactics of 'Leapfrog and Destroy' employed by the panzergrenadiers, has broken the back of Alliance forces in Norway.

May 13th 1948

Alliance forces begin to evacuate northern Norway by any means possible. In the end, the evacuation is a disaster. Many troop transports are sunk by air-launched missiles and submarines.

Although the Alliance collapse in Norway might seem sudden, keep in mind that the Germans have been able to effectively blockade northern Norway for a long time. The Alliance force remaining in northern Norway was a relatively hollow one, better on paper than in reality.

May 16th 1948

In Berlin a minor staff officer in Army intelligence notices something strange while analyzing data received from Ukrainian and anti-communist spies in Russia. It would seem that Soviet supply shipments into Siberia had been curtailed recently. Indeed, such shipments had fallen to zero. The young man looked over the data again several times over to make sure he was reading things correctly. It occurred to him then that this data was simply too good. He had precise records of nearly every type of shipment into eastern Siberia and all the amounts were so small as to be essentially zero. If the Soviets were up to something in Siberia then this is exactly the type of data they would want him to see. Could the Soviets be planning operations in Siberia, possibly to retake the Siberian Pacific coast? Such was for his superiors to determine. He took special care to write his report and felt a deep sense of satisfaction after sending it out - maybe he had actually contributed something of real value to the Reich?

As chance had it, the young intelligence officer had indeed helped the German Reich. Every branch of German intelligence was desperately searching for any signs of a Soviet attack, and the report regarding a mysteriously small amount of materials being sent to Siberia fit right in with a pattern that was starting to emerge. The Soviets were up to something, something big. And it was going to happen soon.

May 22nd 1948

The last Alliance forces in northern Norway are forced to go into exile in the Soviet Union after withdrawing from Kirkenes under heavy pressure from German forces. The 2100 British, French, and Norwegian troops will never be heard from again. German radio proudly proclaims the annexation of all of Norway into the Third Reich "for all time".

May 26th 1948

Acting on intelligence information from multiple agencies and sources, the German general staff places all forces on the Soviet frontier on a heightened state of alert. Aircraft fill the skies, panzer and mechanized infantry divisions deploy into pre-planned positions, rail cars begin moving east from the Fatherland full of ammunition and equipment and hundreds of thousands of reserve soldiers - many veterans of the Eurasian War.

Beria, informed that the Germans appeared to have figured out what was coming, decides to go forward regardless. The Soviet Union has become a loaded barrel ready to fire - if he didn't pull the trigger then the Red Army might simply kill him and do so on their own. However, that didn't mean he would do nothing. Several orders issued via courier would slightly modify operational plans to include options previously closed to the Red Army. Across the Soviet Union new shipment orders came in, and barrels and crates of a slightly different type went on to the trains and into the forward depots. The stakes of his gamble had just gotten higher if such was even possible.

June 2nd 1948

Across the Soviet Union millions of men, mostly a bit too young or a bit too old, sleep in forward positions knowing that the next day will bring war. Total war. They will restore the glory of the Soviet Union or they will die and their socialist dream with them. The last energy of the Russian people has been gathered and is ready to spend itself in another grand war - a war of vengeance and desperation, a war for socialism, Beria, and the motherland!

In Germany the mood is more than a little ominous, with a certain sense of excitement among the young. Norway has fallen at last yet Britain stands tall and defiant on her island. The war in North Africa and Iraq is stalemated at best and seems to have no end in sight. And yet, the looming threat from the east is something that an entire generation of young Germans have been raised to expect, even to look forward to. Now was the time for National Socialism to triumph at last, for the Aryan race to smash the eastern sub-humans and claim their rightful living space on the vast Russian plains! They knew this to be true - their education, their upbringing, their entertainment, everything they knew told them it was so. Now, more than ever, they would be tested.

The World War is at last truly joined and the global conflagration is about to enter a new phase of death and destruction. The entire spirit of humanity, it would seem, is now driven to one purpose - slaughter.

Dust clouded the skies outside Dymtrus Kuchma's home village of Dobrianskyy. Dust clogged his nostrils and coated every inch of his body. Dust ruled the plains of eastern Ukraine as tens of thousands of feet stirred up the bone dry soil. Not all of the feet were human. Horses, oxen and dogs pounded the soil as did the wheels of numerous trucks and older animal and man drawn wagons. Amazingly, the police had managed to maintain some semblance of order amidst the vast movement of humanity.

Ukrainian civilians, he and his family among them, were streaming west by the thousands. Marching in the opposite direction, on the opposite side of the road, were thousands of young Ukrainian conscripts called up to duty over the past week or so. Dymtrus counted himself lucky not to be among them. Paperwork held closely in a shirt pocket "proved" that he had been discharged due to a serious heart condition. With any luck the authorities wouldn't scrutinize the papers too closely. The men he had paid for the fake papers didn't strike him as the most reputable sort. Anyway, it was worth the risk. As far as Dymtrus was concerned marching east was madness and suicide.

It was not that he loved the Russians. It was Soviet secret police who had murdered his parents and three brothers during the chaos of the nationalist revolution. No, he had no love for them. The problem was that he loved the government of his homeland only slightly more. Sure, his leaders were fellow Ukrainians these days but they were every bit as corrupt and brutal as the Soviets had been and they were in bed with the Germans.

Nazis had raped and killed his only sister and gave him the scar that ran from above his left eye socket to well above his hairline. Just thinking of the Aryan swine made him involuntarily clutch the 9mm Soviet-issue pistol hidden near his discharge papers. Anyone attempting to cause harm to his wife and two daughters would do so only after killing him. If he could drop one those brutal American "nuclear" bombs (that the radio occasionally spoke of) on Berlin he would do it in an instant, and Moscow for that matter.

A column of German panzers rumbled past forcing the civilian refugee column to the side of the road as Dymtrus lost sight of the Orthodox Church steeple that dominated his village. The commanders of those panzers looked dirty and grim as they futilely tried to clean dust from their field binoculars and scanned the eastern horizon. Aircraft occasionally droned overhead and German soldiers on motorcycles and little utility cars sped by occasionally, kicking up a trail of dense dust in their wake.

Dymtrus stood in fascination as one of his daughters pointed out a German "helicopter" sitting in mid-air over a field of wheat to the north. As he looked it pivoted left and right and then flitted off on some purpose that only its pilot knew of. He had read of the new "vertical take off and landing" aircraft and heard of them on the radio - but seeing one was a surprise. It was like that until sunset and Dymtrus found a nice location for his family to rest and eat some of the food they had brought along.

Calmly, with an unspoken sense of dread, Dymtrus, his family, and tens of thousands of other Ukrainian peasants walked and rode west in search of safety. When would they return to their homes and farms? Would they ever return? Only fate could answer that one, and time.