09:25 (Germany Time)
Monday, July 27, 1953 ‘C’
Headquarters of the 81st Fighter Interceptor Wing
Neubiberg Airfield, southern suburbs of Munich
German Federal Republic
‘’AND YOU DECIDED THAT SAVING A WEEK IN THE TRANSITION PROGRAM OF THE WING TO THE F-83 WAS WORTH WASTING ONE OF THE MAJOR ADVANTAGES OF THE F-83? WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, TISDALE?’’’
Roger Tisdale, standing at rigid attention in front of the desk of Gertrude Meserve, kept an obtuse expression while replying to the dressing down he was getting from his wing commander.
‘’Colonel, no Soviet plane could even approach the operational ceiling of the F-83 and our oxygen masks are sufficient up to past 50,000 feet. In addition, those pressurized flight suits cost a fortune and require some very specialized maintenance. I believed that the time and money expenditure was not worth it and Colonel Morgan agreed with me.’’
Gertrude, furious like she had rarely been, contained herself with difficulty, fixing Tisdale with looks that could kill.
‘’Lieutenant Colonel Tisdale, do you know what he ‘Tornado Funnel’ tactic is?’’
‘’Uh, no, Colonel.’’
‘’Then know that this tactic, invented by Major General Dows and used in Indochina against the Communist Chinese, allows our F-83s to do diving attacks from high altitude while avoiding radar detection during their approach. This however necessitates that our planes approach at the altitude of 95,000 feet, in order to fly above the electronic detection lobes from enemy radars, thus the need for pressurized flight suits with sealed helmets. Now, thanks to your exercise in penny-pinching, this wing now has only seven F-83 flight crews able to use the Tornado Funnel tactic, basically me and the girls I brought from Palestine, instead of all of our 63 crews. This could cost us heavily in any conflict with the Soviets and will force the majority of our pilots to fly at an altitude where they will be detectable.’’
‘’But, I could not possibly know about that new tactic, Colonel, and…’’
‘’You could simply have followed the established procedures of the F-83 conversion program, which specifie the need to acquire pressurized flight suits and which were written by General Dows while she was based in Muroc a year ago. Now, I will be forced to inform her that my wing is suffering from a major operational deficiency and I can predict that she will not like that at all. You will now get out of my office and immediately initiate a program to acquire pressurized suits for all of our flight crews, along with the needed technical support. DISMISSED!’’
His face red, Tisdale pivoted on his heels and walked out, leaving Gertrude alone to fume behind her work desk.
After taking the time to calm down, Gertrude picked up her telephone receiver and called the headquarters of the 3rd Air Force in Stuttgart, using an encrypted line. She hesitated for a moment when Ingrid Dows’ voice answered her: she detested passing bad news to her old combat comrade and friend.
‘’Ingrid, this is Gertrude. I have some bad news to pass to you concerning my wing. A detailed inspection has revealed to me a major operational deficiency.’’
The voice of Ingrid, jovial at first, grew guarded.
‘’Go ahead, Gertrude.’’
Taking a deep breath, Gertrude then explained what she had found, with Ingrid listening in silence before speaking in a comprehending tone.
‘’Listen, Gertrude, this is not your fault. In fact, Colonel Morgan was at least if not more at fault in this than your Tisdale. I suppose that you will immediately initiate the acquisition of pressurized flight suits?’’
‘’I ordered my deputy to get on it at once, Ingrid. Unfortunately, this will take at the least a few weeks before we could get those suits and have them adjusted to our flight crews.’’
‘’A few weeks…’’ Said Ingrid in a discouraged tone. ‘’Gertrude, we may not have a few weeks. Know that recent intelligence reports indicate large concentrations of Soviet troops along the borders of Poland and of the Baltic states. The Soviets announced this morning through a public communiqué that they will soon hold some joint military exercises in Ukraine, Belorussia and in the Leningrad area. I however don’t believe that this is for simple maneuvers. I am due to go see today General Ridgway at the headquarters of the EUCOM in Frankfurt, to discuss with him the situation concerning the Soviets. I will keep you posted on this. In the meantime, be prepared to disperse your squadrons and your ammunition and spare parts reserves around your alternate airfields. And continue to push for those pressurized suits.’’
‘’You can count on me, Ingrid.’’
‘’Good! We will speak further tomorrow.’’ Said Ingrid before putting down her receiver. Now deeply preoccupied, Gertrude cut the line and looked with apprehension at the map of Europe pinned to one of the walls of her office. She had already fought with Ingrid in four wars: in the Pacific during World War 2, in Korea, in Indochina and in Palestine. Now, however, this could involve a direct conflict between two nuclear powers, a prospect that should scare any sensible person.
08:12, Tuesday, July 28, 1953 ‘C’
Office of the Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union
Kremlin, Moscow
USSR
‘’Enter!’’ Said Joseph Stalin after hearing someone knock on the door. His secretary then came in, announcing that Marshal Fedorovich, the commander of the Soviet Air Force, wanted to see him. Stalin nodded his head and waited for Fedorovich to enter and come to attention in front of his desk.
‘’So, what do you have for me this morning, Marshal Fedorovich?’’
‘’Comrade Secretary, I came to bring you for your approval the draft of a disinformation plan that should greatly help our impending military plans.’’
Stalin, who perfectly knew what those plans implied, simply put his hand forward.
‘’Please show me that plan, Comrade Fedorovich.’’
Taking a file from his leather briefcase, the marshal approached the desk and handed it to Stalin, who started to read it at once. A smile appeared progressively on the face of the dictator, who finally grabbed a pen and scribbled a note at the bottom of the last page before giving back the document to Fedorovich.
‘’An excellent plan indeed, Comrade Fedorovich. Approved!’’
‘’Thank you, Comrade Secretary.’’
Fedorovich then pivoted around and walked out of the office, with Stalin watching him go. The dictator then got up from his chair and went to study the large World map pinned to one wall board. The plan proposed by Fedorovich, while risky, was truly brilliant and would strongly reinforce the bluff he intended to do while facing the American president. If all went well, the Soviet Union would soon possess new buffer territories to shield its own territory from any enemy surprise attacks. The only irritant at this time for him was the unexpected coriacity of a young troublemaker that his MGB secret police seemed incapable of getting rid of. If this went on, he was going to have to find someone more competent to do that job.
17:39 (Germany Time)
Wednesday, July 29, 1953 ‘C’
Family housing for American officers
Patch Barracks, Stuttgart
German Federal Republic
Ingrid, still wearing a flight suit, entered her residence only to be greeted by a tornado on four legs named ‘Miniflick’, followed closely by Hien. Ingrid had bought the Dalmatian puppy for Hien after returning from her trip to the North. Her daughter had fallen in love with the little young dog at the first sight. Now, Miniflick was her best playing companion, on top of being her pride when she walked it outside.
‘’You went flying today, Mommy?’’ Asked the little Vietnamese girl on seeing her flight suit. Ingrid took her in her arms and kissed her on the cheek before answering her.
‘’Effectively, my sweet love. I went up for a good four hours in my faithful LADY HAWK. And you, how was your day?’’
‘’Well!’’ Said Hien in her tiny voice. ‘’I played with Freddy, John and Cynthia and I walked Miniflick with Sarah. Sarah also gave me a few English lessons. She wants to tell you something, by the way.’’
‘’Oh?’’ Said Ingrid, forcing herself to keep smiling: when Sarah wanted to tell her about something, it was often about very serious things. ‘’In that case, I will go see her right away. Where is she?’’
‘’In the kitchen: she is preparing supper.’’
‘’I will go talk to her there. After, I will come play with you and Miniflick. Would you like that, Hien?’’
‘’Oh yes!’’ Said Hien enthusiastically, who kissed Ingrid before she was put down on her feet, near Miniflick. Ingrid then went to the kitchen of her residence, which was part of a row of brick town houses. She found Sarah busy cooking German-style veal scallops called schnitzels, which Ingrid craved.
‘’Aah, this smells good! Hien told me that you had something to tell me, Sarah.’’
The spiritual entity that used the ancient shape of Sarah Ur looked at her soberly while continuing her cooking job. Ingrid knew that the angel could concentrate her attention and powers on many things at the same time and could not be taken by surprise. While capable of humor, Sarah appeared most of the time as being serious and sober. She answered Ingrid in a low voice, so that Hien couldn’t hear her.
‘’Effectively, Ingrid. Know that I disposed of another team of Soviet assassins this morning, as you departed for work. I vaporized them and their car, but nobody in the neighborhood saw that.’’
‘’Another team?!’’ Exclaimed Ingrid, alarmed. ‘’But, that makes the third Soviet assassination team in five months, without counting the Jews from the Irgoun who attacked and wounded me in Haifa. Stalin is this scared of me?’’
‘’Contrary to many American politicians and generals, Stalin understands how dangerous you could be for his plans of domination. About those plans, you now have only a few days left before a new war starts. You will be primordial in defeating Stalin’s plans. As for Hien, don’t worry about her: I will protect her and make sure that she is safe during the fighting to come.’’
‘’Thank you, Sarah.’’ Said Ingrid, partly relieved. ‘’Uh, you really can’t tell me more about what will happen?’’
The angel shook slowly her head.
‘’I’m sorry, Ingrid. You must realize yourself your destiny. Go play with Hien and Miniflick while I finish cooking supper.’’
‘’Yes Mom!’’ Said jockingly Ingrid, earning a pinch on her butt and a smile from her guardian angel.
09:17 (California Time)
Saturday, August 1, 1953 ‘C’
Pan American Airlines Boeing 717
600 kilometers west of Los Angeles
8,000 meters above the Pacific Ocean
‘’Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Captain speaking. We are presently about 375 miles from Los Angeles and will arrive at our destination in about fifty minutes. The present temperature in Los Angeles is 89 degrees Fahrenheit and the weather there is sunny, with a clear sky. I hope that you had a pleasant flight and will warn you when we will start our descent towards Los Angeles. Thank you for your attention.’’
The pilot, Ross Davidson, then hooked down his public announcement microphone and looked at his copilot, Charlie Quinn.
‘’I must say that I sometimes regret my wartime service as a B-24 bomber pilot. This job pays fairly well but it could be downright monotonous at times.’’
‘’Even with Shirley aboard as a stewardess?’’ Replied with a knowing smile the copilot. ‘’Personally, one look at her legs or her chest is enough to excite me for the rest of the flight.’’
‘’And Jennifer? She doesn’t excite you?’’
‘’Of course that she excites me, Ross. I simply prefer Shirley. She…’’
The copilot then paused, while his eyes looked at something outside in the sky. Following his eyes, Ross then saw through his windshield two jet planes flying in formation in front and above them. Without being in danger of causing a collision with the airliner, the two big aircraft were flying on a heading at a slight angle from that of the Boeing 717 and were about to cut across its path, but at an altitude of 200 meters above.
‘’But, what are those two idiots doing right in the middle of a known main airliner highway?’’ Exclaimed Charlie Quinn. ‘’These are big planes indeed, maybe heavy bombers, judging by their tail gun turrets. Ross, are you still familiar with our bomber types? Ross? Hey, Ross?’’
‘’Fucking shit!’’ Swore violently the pilot, his eyes fixed on the two bombers. ‘’They are Soviet bombers! Look at the red stars under their wings! We have commie heavy bombers approaching Los Angeles!’’
‘’Soviet bombers, here?’’ Asked the copilot in disbelief while looking at the two aircraft, soon noticing the red stars. ‘’Damn! You are right! Look at the size of those two bastards!’’
Turning partly in his seat, the pilot looked at his navigator/flight engineer, Neil Watts, sitting sideways behind Charlie Quinn.
‘’Neil, find a camera in a hurry! Borrow it from a passenger if need be but I want pictures taken of those Soviet bombers.’’
‘’Understood!’’ Said Neil, leaving his seat and walking out of the cockpit. Ross then returned his attention on the bombers to examine them in detail. He then noticed with a shock that the bombers had altered their heading in order to fly parallel with his Boeing 717 and were starting to lose slowly altitude. He was soon able to detail from less than 200 meters the Soviet planes, with their four enormous jet engines in sunken positions at the root of their long swept wings and with long, slender fuselages. Grabbing his radio microphone, he pressed the ‘send’ button and called the Los Angeles air traffic control center.
‘’Los Angeles Control, this is flight Pan Am 502, coming from Honolulu and presently 355 miles west of Los Angeles. I just met two unidentified aircraft that appear to be Soviet heavy bombers. I request that you urgently advise the Air Force of this, over.’’
‘’Did you say Soviet heavy bombers, Pan Am 502?’’ Replied the air controller, clearly skeptical, irritating Ross.
‘’Affirmative, Los Angeles! I have two enormous aircraft wearing red starts on their wings and vertical tail. They each have four big jet engines at their wing roots, with swept wings, long and thin fuselage and with tail gun turrets. I can now see that they are equipped with in-flight refueling booms. These big babies must have an enormous radius of action.’’
‘’Where are presently those bombers in relation to you, Pan Am 502?’’
Neil Watts came back in the cockpit at that moment, a camera in his hands.
‘’I borrowed Shirley’s camera, Ross.’’
‘’I don’t give a shit from whom you borrowed it, Neil.’’ Grumbled the pilot. ‘’Just take pictures of those two bastards from all angles possible. Los Angeles, those bombers just came down to my level and are now flying parallel to me, 600 feet away. SHIT! THEIR TAIL GUN TURRETS ARE STARTING TO POINT AT ME!’’
Ross could now hear screams of panic coming from the passengers cabin as Neil Watts was taking picture after picture.
‘’Los Angeles, from Pan Am 502, have you advised the Air Force, over?’’
‘’Uh, not yet, Pan Am 502.’’
‘’DAMMIT, WAKE UP, LOS ANGELES CONTROL! WILL YOU WAIT FOR THOSE TWO COMMIE BASTARDS TO DROP ATOMIC BOMBS ON LOS ANGELES BEFORE REACTING?’’
‘’Uh, understood, Pan Am 502.’’ Answered rather ineptly the air controller. On his part, Ross decided to take his distances from the two intruders and went into a shallow dive while pushing his four jet engines to the maximum. To his profound relief, the Soviets didn’t shoot at him and started turning away, heading towards the Northwest before disappearing in the distance.
‘’Christ! When I think that I was complaining about the monotony of this job.’’ Said Ross to himself, his jaws clenched together.
Aboard the lead Myasishchev M-4 heavy bomber, Colonel Piotr Souvorov laughed heartily on seeing the airliner flee. He then smiled to his copilot, Major Vassili Kouglov.
‘’Well, I think that our little demonstration worked, Vassili. If only the Americans knew that our two M-4 are the only ones built to date and that we each used two in-flight refueling to get here.’’
‘’But they can’t know that, Colonel. They will never believe that our planes are only prototypes. Anyway, their airforce is bound to panic on hearing about our presence so close to their coast.’’
‘’That’s for sure! Navigator, give me a return heading to Petropavlovsk, before we run out of fuel and have to belly-land in the Pacific.’’
With many military personnel on weekend leave, the news of the encounter between Pan Am 502 and the two bombers took nearly one hour to reach the Pentagon in Washington, plus another hour before the story was taken seriously. By that time, the telephone lines at the Pentagon had started to be clogged with calls from reporters based in Los Angeles and who had spoken with the crew and passengers of Pan Am 502. The first official reaction from the Pentagon, basically denying that the Soviets could have bombers capable of reaching the American West Coast, was met with derision and accusations of negligence by the medias. President Thomas Dewey became furious when he learned about the incident the same way that most of his citizens did: by listening to his radio in his office. Grabbing his telephone, he then placed a number of angry calls to the Pentagon, the first one going to General Hoyt Vandenberg, the head of the Air Force. Vandenberg was in his small shoes while answering Dewey.
‘’Uh, I still don’t have an independent confirmation of that report, Mister President. It would be too early for me to speculate on this incident.’’
‘’Speculate? SPECULATE? General, if I understand well the media reports about that incident, two Soviet heavy jet bombers were seen less than 400 miles from Los Angeles, flying in formation as if they owned the sky. These bombers could have easily erased San Francisco and Los Angeles with atomic bombs before our fighters could react, if I go by the slowness of the reaction of your people at the Pentagon. I want to see you in the Oval Office at four this afternoon, and with full explanations about this. I also plan in having the other service chiefs present at that meeting.’’
‘’I will be there, Mister President.’’
As Dewey thought that things couldn’t get worse, he received a bit before three o’clock in the afternoon a call from his new secretary of state, Christian Herter. Herter seemed to be seriously shaken, apart from being furious as hell.
‘’Mister President, I have now with me the Finnish ambassador, who just brought me an ultimatum from Stalin.’’
Dewey had to sit down on hearing that, cold sweat breaking on his forehead.
‘’An ultimatum? What kind of ultimatum?’’
‘’Basically, Mister President, Stalin is telling us that he will occupy Poland and the Baltic states and that, if we try to stop him with atomic bombs, the United States and our European allies will be struck by massive nuclear strikes. The ultimatum says that the two bombers spotted off our West Coast were only a warning for us. Should I escort the Finnish ambassador to the White House, Mister President?’’
‘’This ultimatum, do you have it on paper?’’
‘’Yes, Mister President.’’
‘’Then, pass my thanks to the ambassador and send him on his way after telling him that I will reply to this Soviet ultimatum before tomorrow morning. Then, come and bring me that ultimatum as fast as you can.’’
‘’Very well, Mister President.’’
Cutting the line, Dewey was thoughtful for a long moment, eaten up by worry and bitterness. The American successes in Indochina against the Soviet and Chinese forces had given him some hope that Stalin would finally become reasonable. Yet, despite that, the Soviet dictator seemed ready for a nuclear arm-wrestling match in order to grab part of Europe. Dewey could not even be certain that his ambitions didn’t include more than simply Poland and the Baltic states this time. On the other hand, he could bet that many of his own military leaders would want to reply with nuclear weapons to this ultimatum, despite the risks that this would entail for the United States. Taking a decision, Dewey activated his intercom to call his personal secretary.
‘’Madam Miller, contact all the heads of the armed services at the Pentagon, as well as the secretaries of defense and of state, and tell them that the meeting planned for four o’clock at the White House will be held instead at the Pentagon, in the conference room of the National Military Command Center. Then, have my limousine come to the main entrance and cancel all my remaining appointments for today and tomorrow. Warn as well Vice-President Warren that he is coming with me.’’
‘’Right away, Mister President.’’
Escorted by close to twenty Secret Service agents, Dewey and his vice-president, Earl Warren, soon got into two White House limousines and drove off towards the Pentagon, escorted by six cars full of agents. Crossing the Potomac River, the convoy arrived at the Pentagon fifteen minutes later, with Dewey and Warren being greeted at the main entrance of the enormous building by General Omar Bradley, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who saluted them before speaking in a somber tone.
‘’Mister President, the conference room is ready and the service chiefs are waiting for you there, as well as Secretary Herter and Secretary Wilson.’’
‘’Thank you, General! Do we know more about those two Soviet bombers spotted off the California coast?’’
Bradley answered him while walking besides him towards the NMCC{17} and its conference room.
‘’We have received by telex copies of the photos taken of the bombers by the crew of the Pan Am flight that encountered them, Mister President. Those photos are being analyzed by our experts right now but those bombers appear quite formidable and are probably able to transport at least one atomic bomb over intercontinental range. I must say that these bombers come as a very bad surprise for us: nobody knew about the existence of that bomber type before today.’’
‘’And now they show up off the California coast, as if to challenge us.’’ Said Dewey, displeased. ‘’Did the Air Force at least attempt to intercept them, General?’’
Bradley hesitated before answering, knowing that Dewey would not like his answer.
‘’Uh, it took over twenty minutes for the alert to be passed to our nearest fighter base, Mister President. F-80 fighters took off but they were unable to catch those bombers, having insufficient range.’’
Dewey brutally stopped at those last words and fixed Bradley angrily.
‘’And our new F-83 fighters, they couldn’t intercept those bombers?’’
‘’We still don’t have F-83 operational units on the West Coast, except for a few prototypes in Muroc, Mister President. The number of F-83s in our inventories is still quite limited, like for our B-50 supersonic bomber, and the East Coast and Europe were given priority for their deployments.’’
‘’Decidedly, Stalin seems to have calculated with care his time to act.’’ Growled Dewey while resuming his walk, followed closely by Earl Warren and the escort agents.
The group arrived a bit before four o’clock at the NMCC’s conference room, where Dewey took place at the big table with Bradley and Warren. Looking at the faces around the table, Dewey saw a mix of uncertainty and worry. His secretary of state, Christian Herter, sitting to his right, then passed to him a two-page document.
‘’Here is Stalin’s ultimatum delivered by Ambassador Saamin, Mister President. It is clear, direct…and most shocking. I unfortunately don’t believe that it is simply a bluff. Our intelligence about massive concentrations of Soviet units along the Polish and Baltic borders support the seriousness of that ultimatum.’’
‘’Hum… Stalin is certainly clear about any use of nuclear weapons by us or by the British. He says that he is ready to strike massively the continental United States and various West European capitals if any atomic bombs explode over Soviet territory. Does someone have a copy of the photos taken of the bombers seen off California?’’
‘’Here, Mister President!’’ Replied General Vandenberg, the chief of staff of the Air Force, passing three prints to Dewey via a junior officer. Dewey, like Warren, frowned as he examined the photos.
‘’Those bombers indeed look formidable. Could they be supersonic?’’
‘’We don’t think so, Mister President. They however seemed designed to have a very long range. Their flight up to the California coast from the Soviet Pacific coast implies a range of at least 7,500 miles. This would allow their bombers based on their Pacific coast to reach most of the continental United States, while bombers flying out of Murmansk and passing over the North Pole could strike anywhere along our east coast and even our southern states. The fact that a pair of those bombers was seen so far from the Soviet Union implies that this bomber type is now in active operational service. This unfortunately changes drastically the nuclear equation between us and the Soviets, Mister President. We could strike them hard with our B-50 bombers, but the Soviets can now strike us as well and we could not be certain of being able to intercept all of their bombers. Any nuclear exchange would end with the destruction of at least a few of our cities or bases, Mister President.’’
‘’And how many atomic bombs do the Soviets possess, General?’’
Vandenberg shrugged, embarrassment on his face.
‘’Nobody knows for sure, Mister President. We have only estimates at this time.’’
‘’Then, give me your best figures, General.’’
‘’Our best intelligence estimates are that the Soviets could have about 300 atomic bombs ready to be delivered by bombers, plus about fifty nuclear-tipped SS-3 medium range ballistic missiles able to reach most cities in Western Europe, including London.’’
‘’And our own nuclear arsenal?’’ Asked Dewey after swallowing that information.
‘’We presently have in service a total of 960 nuclear bombs delivered by air, plus thirty atomic shells for our Army heavy howitzers. Our most powerful bomb has a power of 160 kilotons. Mister President, in view of our probable nuclear superiority, I would advise to return Stalin’s bluff: if he attacks Poland, then we will devastate the Soviet Union.’’
‘’At the price of how many of our cities, General Vandenberg?’’ Replied at once Dewey, horrified by such a cold calculation. ‘’And what would our European allies would say to seeing their capitals go up in smoke? I doubt that even the British would be ready to test Stalin’s ultimatum.’’
‘’But, Mister President, our doctrine is based on a massive nuclear response in case of Soviet attack. What is the point of having nuclear weapons if we are not ready to use them?’’
Dewey’s face hardened as something that Ingrid Dows had told him many times in the past came back to his mind.
‘’General, your question actually raises a very good point. If the fact that the enemy can reply with nuclear weapons is sufficient to limit or even stop us from using our own nuclear weapons, then why have we based so much of our defense doctrine and budgets on our nuclear forces?’’
‘’Precisely to prevent the Soviets from using their own atomic weapons, Mister President.’’
‘’Great!’’ Said Dewey on a sarcastic tone. ‘’We spend billions of dollars on our nuclear forces, simply to arrive at a point where neither us nor the Soviet can use those bombs without mutually destroying each other. In the meantime, the cuts made to our conventional forces in order to buy all that nuclear weaponry leave us too weak militarily to oppose the Soviets in conventional ground combat. Truly great!’’
The generals and admirals present around the table lowered their heads at Dewey’s stinging remark, as did Charles Wilson, the secretary of defense. Most of them had fought tooth and nail during the last few years to get as big a piece of the American nuclear pie as they could, to increase the prestige and importance of their respective services. On his part, Dewey could now clearly see how much most of his generals and admirals lacked in true vision and passed the good of their respective services ahead of the national good. Getting truly pissed off by now, Dewey looked at General Joseph Lawton Collins, the Army Chie