The Third World War: August 1985

His tank topped the crest on the last words, and there opened up before him the most frightening sight he had ever seen. The open ground below, stretching to a faintly seen line of trees about 2 kilometres away, was swarming with menacing black shapes coming fast towards him. They were tanks, moving in rough line-abreast about 200 metres apart, less than 1,000 metres off and closing the range quickly. Another line was following behind and a third just coming out of the trees. The world seemed full of Soviet tanks.

“You might have told me,” he said into the microphone: “Am engaging now. Out!”

He gave quick orders to the Squadron and to his own gunner, but already a sudden huge flash seen through his periscope head, followed at once by a great black cloud of smoke with a heart of flame, like a volcano in eruption, showed where a forward anti-tank missile launcher from somewhere behind him to the left had found its first target.

In the same moment he was stunned and deafened by a thunderous blow, as from some titanic hammer, outside the tank low down to the right, and was thrown hard against the side of the cupola as the tank slewed round and shuddered to a violent halt. At the same time a gigantic clang, which seemed to rend his skull, told of a solid shot skidding off the sloping front plate without penetrating. The tank’s main armament, its gun, was useless now.

The thing to do was to get the crew out, all three of them miraculously still alive, before the next projectile brewed them up.

In a daze, trembling like a leaf, he found himself on the ground, not quite knowing how he had got there, crouching for shelter in a shallow ditch. Roaring aircraft filled the sky low overhead, hurtling by at lightning speed with rockets crashing as they passed. Tanks he knew as Soviet T-72s came charging by in what seemed endless streams, the ground shaking under them and the air throbbing with the shrill clamour of their tracks. Squat BMP armoured infantry-carriers followed, guns blazing to their flanks. Flames were soaring into the sky with rich black clouds of smoke from burning tanks with their ammunition exploding in them. He could see no sign of any of his Squadron. His own tank crew had vanished. This was the war they had expected, not knowing really what to expect. For him, unhurt but alone, helpless and desolate, it already seemed as good as over.”

Taken from an article ‘Sketches of the Eighth at War’ in The Royal Armoured Corps Journal, Autumn 1986.

The following impression of operations of the German and US Air Forces with Tornado and F-15 aircraft, on the first day of the invasion, is taken from Parameters, journal of the US Army War College, Fort Carlisle, Fall 1986.

“The first wave of German Tornados was back at base at Norvenich; only one was missing. It was 0930 on 4 August. The second wave from the same wing of the GAF should now be well over East Germany, attacking three Warsaw Pact airfields, while the first wave prepared for a further counter-air mission.

Oberleutnant Karl von Marschall was both exhilarated and relieved that their first mission of the war had gone so well. He was taking a breather at the entrance to the hardened aircrew bunker while his Tornado was being re-armed and refuelled. He had led eight of them in attacks at first light, his target the East German airfield of Zerbst. He could not say for sure how effective it had been because it was done before full light at 60 metres with the target shrouded in dawn mist. But his navigator, who played a key part in the run-up to the target and co-ordinated release of fire-suppression and denial weapons, had caught a glimpse of the airfield through the mist and was bubbling with confidence about the accuracy of the attack. They had gone at high subsonic speed hugging the ground at 60 metres over the Harz mountains.

Von Marschall felt that perhaps it was as well that the outward part of this first mission had been flown blind and automated, as they had so often practised under simulated conditions. The second mission flying the same sort of profile in clear conditions and full daylight might be finding it a bit hair-raising as they rushed very low over trees and houses they could actually see. He felt that having done it once blind, and with all the stimulus and excitement that battle brought, he could now face it in clear conditions with confidence, and he was eager to get off the ground and lead another attack. On the way home they had seen plenty of MiGs above them as they skimmed the trees but none of the Soviet fighters had been able to bring their guns or missiles to bear on the fast flying Tornados skimming the ground below. On this first evidence it certainly looked as if the ultra-low-level mode of operation was going to pay off in the penetration of heavy air defences. No doubt things would get tougher as the enemy got the measure of them — but so far very good.