tc.redstormrising-第174部分

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the　Air　Force　that　bought　the　story　first。　They　knew　that　enemy　fuel…supply　dumps　were　smaller　than　expected。　Instead　of　the　One　Big　Facility　so　prevalent　throughout　Russian　society　（and　after　the　big　dump　at　Wittenburg　had　been　blown　up）；　the　Russians　had　gone　to　small　ones；　accepting　the　price　of　increased　air…defense　and　security　requirements。　NATO's　deep…strike　air　missions　had　been　concentrating　on　airfields；　munitions　dumps；　transport　junctions；　and　the　tank　columns　approaching　the　front　。　。　。　more　lucrative　targets　than　the　smaller…than…expected　fuel　depots；　which　were　also　harder　to　spot。　The　traffic　signatures　associated　with　the　large　fuel…posts　usually　showed　hundreds　of　trucks　cycling　in　and　out。　The　small　ones；　with　fewer　trucks　involved；　were　harder　for　the　look…down　radar　aircraft　to　locate。　All　these　factors　militated　to　a　different　targeting　priority。
After　fifteen　minutes'　discussion　with　his　Air　Chief；　SACEUR　changed　all　that。

STENDAL；　GERMAN　DEMOCRATIC　REPUBLIC
〃I　can't　do　both　things；〃　Alekseyev　whispered　to　himself　He'd　spent　the　last　twelve　hours　trying　to　find　a　way；　but　it　wasn't　there。　It　was　a　marvel　what　it　meant　finally　to　be　in　mand　himself；　no　longer　the　aggressive　subordinate。　He　was　now　responsible　for　success　or　failure。　A　mistake　was　his　mistake。　A　failure　was　his　failure。　It　had　been　much　more　fortable　the　other　way。　Like　his　predecessor；　Alekseyev　had　to　mark　his　orders；　even　though　his　orders　were　impossible。　He　had　to　maintain　the　salient　and　continue　the　advance。　He　had　the　resources　to　do　one　or　the　other；　but　not　both。　You　will　advance　northwest　from　the　Weser；　cutting　off　the　forces　on　the　right…flank　of　the　advancing　troops　and　preparing　the　way　for　a　decisive　attack　into　the　Ruhr　Valley。　Whoever　issued　the　orders　either　didn't　know　or　didn't　care　that　this　was　impossible。
But　NATO　knew。　Their　air　power　had　smashed　convoys　on　every　road　between　R乭le　and　Alfeld。　The　two　B　tank　divisions　guarding　Beregovoy's　northern　flank　had　been　caught　off…balance　and　routed。　Battalion…sized　blocking　forces　occupied　the　major　crossroads　while　the　NATO　manders　reinforced　the　regiment　at　Alfeld。　Probably　two　full　tank　divisions　lurked　in　the　forests　north　of　R乭le；　but　for　the　present　they　had　not　attacked　Beregovoy。　Instead　their　inaction　both　dared　him　to　cross　and　invited　him　to　counterattack　north。
Alekseyev　remembered　an　important　lesson　from　the　Frunze　Academy：　the　Kharkov　Offensive　of　1942。　The　Germans　had　allowed　the　advancing　Red　Army　forces　to　penetrate　deep…then　cut　them　off　and　chewed　them　up。　High　mand　＇meaning　Stalin＇　ignored　the　objective　realities　of　the　situation　（hence　violating　the　Second　Law　of　Armed　bat）；　concentrating　instead　on　subjective　perceptions　of　apparent　progress　that　unfortunately　proved　false；　the　lesson　concluded。　The　General　wondered　if　this　battle　would　be　an　object　lesson　for　some　future　class　of　captains　and　majors　who　would　then　write　their　test　answers　and　essays　in　bluebooks；　pointing　out　what　an　ass　General　Colonel　Pavel　Leonidovich　Alekseyev　was！
Or　he　could　pull　them　back　。　。　。　and　admit　defeat；　and　perhaps　be　shot；　and　then　be　remembered；　if　at　all；　as　a　traitor　to　the　Motherland。　It　was　so　fitting。　After　sending　so　many　thousands　of　boys　into　fire；　now　he　faced　death　as　well；　though　from　an　unexpected　direction。
〃Major　Sergetov；　I　want　you　to　go　back　to　Moscow　to　tell　them　in　person　what　I　am。　up　to。　I　am　going　to　detach　one　division　from　Beregovoy　and　drive　it　east　to　open　the　way　at　Alfeld　again。　The　attack　on　Alfeld　will　be　from　two　directions；　and　after　it　succeeds；　we　will　be　able　to　continue　the　Weser　crossing　without　fear　of　having　our　spearhead　cut　off。〃
〃A　skillful　promise；〃　the　major　said　hopefully。
That's　just　the　thing　I　need　to　hear！

BITBURG；　FEDERAL　REPUBLIC　OF　GERMANY
Twelve　Frisbees　were　left。　Twice　they'd　been　pulled　out　of　action　briefly　to　determine　what　new　tactics　would　lessen　the　hazards…with　some　success；　Colonel　Ellington　told　himself　A　few　of　the　Soviet　systems　had　proved　to　have　unsuspected　capabilities；　but　half　of　his　losses　were　unexplained。　Were　they　the　kind　of　accidents　that　acpanied　flying　heavily　loaded　aircraft　at　minimum　altitude　or　simply　the　laws　of　probability　catching　up　with　everyone？　A　pilot　might　think　a　1…percent　chance　of　being　shot　down　on　a　given　mission　acceptable；　then　realize　that　fifty　such　missions　made　it　a　40　percent　chance。
His　flight　crews　were　unnaturally　quiet。　The　elite　Frisbee　squadron　was　a　tight　family　of　men；　a　third　of　whom　were　gone。　The　professionalism　that　allowed　them　to　shut　this　out　and　do　their　weeping　in　private　had　its　limits。　That　limit　had　been　passed。　Mission　performance　was　down。　But　bat　requirements　were　not；　and　Ellington　knew　that　sentiment's　place　in　the　great　military　scheme　of　things　fell　below　the　need　to　hit　targets。
He　rotated　the　aircraft　off　the　pavement　and　headed　east　alone。　Tonight　he　carried　no　weapons　save　Sidewinders　and　antiradar　missiles　for　self…defense。　His　F…19A　was　burdened　with　fuel　tanks　instead　of　bombs。　He　settled　to　an　initial　flight　altitude　of　three　thousand　feet　and　checked　his　instruments；　making　a　slight　adjustment　in　the　aircraft's　trim　before　starting　a　slow　descent　to　five　hundred　feet。　That　was　his　altitude　on　crossing　the　Weser。
〃Got　some　activity　on　the　ground；　Duke；〃　Eisly　reported。　〃Looks　like　a　column　of　tanks　and　troop　carriers　heading　northeast　on　Highway　64。〃
〃Report　it　in。〃　In　this　sector；　everything　that　moved　was　a　target。　A　minute　later；　they　crossed　the　Leine　north　of　Alfeld。　They　could　see　the　distant　flashes　of　artillery；　and　Ellington　banked　left　to　keep　clear。　A　six…inch　shell　in　its　ballistic　arc　didn't　care　if　the　Frisbee　was　invisible　or　not。
This　ought　to　be　safer　than　a　strike　mission；　Ellington　told　himself。　They　flew　east；　two　miles　from　a　secondary　road　that　Eisly　kept　under　surveillance　with　their　nose…mounted　television　camera。　The　threat…warning　receiver　was　lit　up　from　SAM　radars　sweeping　the　sky　for　intruders。
〃Tanks；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃Lots　of　'em。〃
〃Moving？〃
〃Don't　think　so。　Looks　like　they're　sitting　alongside　the　road　near　the　treeline。　Wait…missile…launch　warning！　SAM　three　o'clock！〃
Ellington　pushed　the　stick　down　and　to　the　left。　In　a　matter　of　seconds　he　had　to　dive　his　aircraft　one　way；　turn　his　head　the　other　to　see　the　ining　missile；　then　turn　back　to　make　sure　he　didn't　plow　a　furrow　in　the　dirt　with　his　fifty…million…dollar　aircraft。　All　he　saw　of　the　SAM　was　a　yellow…white　gout　of　flame；　and　it　was　heading　for　him。　As　soon　as　he　leveled　out；　he　wrenched　the　Frisbee　into　a　hard　right　turn。　In　the　back　Eisly　had　his　eyes　on　the　missile。
〃Veering　off；　Duke…yeah！〃　The　missile　leveled　out　at　the　treetops　behind　the　F19；　then　dipped　and　exploded　in　the　woods。　〃The　instruments　say　that　was　a　SA…6。　The　search　radar　is　one　o'clock　and　very　close。〃
〃Okay；〃　Ellington　said。　He　activated　a　single　Sidearm　antiradar　missile　and　fired　it　at　the　transmitter　from　a　range　of　four　miles。　The　Russians　were　slow　to　detect　it。　Ellington　saw　the　detonation。　Take　that；　Darth　Vader！
〃I　think　you're　right　on　how　they're　getting　us；　Duke。〃
〃Yeah。〃　The　Frisbee　was　designed　to　defeat　overhead　radars。　Something　looking　up　had　a　much　better　chance　of　detecting　them。　They　could　defeat　that　by　flying　very　low；　but　then　they　couldn't　see　as　well　as　they　wanted　to　see。　He　turned　for　another　look　at　the　tanks。　〃How　many　you　think；　Don？〃
〃Lots；　over　a　hundred。〃
〃Tell　'em。〃　Ellington　turned　back　north　while　Major　Eisly　made　his　report。　In　minutes　some　German　Phantom　jets　would　visit　the　tank　assembly　point。　That　many　tanks　sitting　still　probably　meant　a　fueling　point；　he　thought。　Either　the　fuel　trucks　were　already　there　or　they　were　en　route。　Fuel　trucks　were　now　his　primary　targets；　a　surprising　change　after　weeks　of　going　for　supply　dumps　and　moving　columns　。　。　。　What's　that？
〃Trucks　dead　ahead！〃　The　Duke　watched　the　enhanced　view　on　his　Head…Up　Display。　A　long　line　of　。　。　。　fuel　trucks；　traveling　in　a　tight　column；　blacked　out　and　moving　fast。　The　curved　metal　tops　made　the　identification　easy。　He　turned　the　fighter　again　to　circle　two　miles　from　the　road。　Eisly's　infrared　picture　showed　the　glow　of　engines　and