Chieftains

'In Turkey, Soviet forces crossed the frontiers at Batumi, Yerevan and Nachichevan, while a Soviet naval assault force has made landings on the Turkish Black Sea coast between Sinop and Samsun. Concentrations of Bulgarian troops have been reported on the Turko Bulgarian frontier at Malko, three hundred and twenty kilometers from Istanbul.

'In Yugoslavia, despite strong resistance, Soviet authorities this morning announced the capture of Novi Sad and Belgrade. Throughout the early hours of today Belgrade Radio played continuous recordings of the Yugoslav national anthem. This was silenced a little after 09.00 hours…'

'That'll do, Corporal. Turn it off now.' The staff sergeant's slim cigarette was already a butt between his lips. He picked it out carefully, and dropped it into a near empty mug on the table. 'All right you lot, don't hang around…get back to your work…this is an official war we've got…earn your bloody money…'

The headquarters of the Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Forces in Northern Europe was situated, temporarily, a few kilometers east of Münster. Commander-in-Chief, General Sir Alexander Dormer, had moved his staff two days previously eastwards from Rheindahlen to its present battle headquarters. He had slept for less than three hours in the past twenty-four, but a Benzedrine tablet had cleared fatigue from his mind. There would be time for rest when the situation in NORTHAG became more settled.

Dormer was feeling satisfied with the intelligence reports he was receiving. The Russian forces were continuing their advance, which had been expected. But the advance had been neither as fast, nor had the initial penetration been as deep, as had been forecast. Their losses in the first kilometers had been astronomical, despite their advantages in military strength, their armour outnumbering that of the NATO forces by almost three to one.

Three to one. Sheer weight, Dormer knew, could win a war no matter how dogged the adversary. There had been sufficient warnings given over the past few years, and yet many of the NATO governments had ignored them, seeking political popularity while endangering the future military security of their countries. Britain had been no exception; in 1980, the British military budget had been cut by two hundred million pounds.

There had been an attempt, far too late, to redress the military balance, but many engineering companies which could have been used on military projects had gone to the wall during the recession, and new ones to replace them had not been fully developed. Defence projects had been allowed to decay too far to be hurriedly salvaged. Much of the NATO weaponry was out-dated and long-serviced, but what there was of it was being well used. To his present satisfaction, the 1st British Corps were giving a good account of themselves, as were the men of the German and Belgian forces. In the north the Netherland Corps, reinforced by the German Federal Republic's territorial army, had slowed the Soviet forces east of Hamburg.

It had been no surprise to Dormer when the French entered the war immediately it had begun. He had worked closely with their High Command many times and never doubted their intentions, despite their government's apparent determination to remain non-commital. The French armour was already being brought into reserve, behind the American army in CENTAG.