War with Russia

As the Prime Minister spoke he lost his control for a moment. However, instead of exploding in rage, as many a prime minister before him had done in similar circumstances, he choked. Tears welled up in his eyes and his cheeks reddened with anger. With an effort he controlled himself.

“CDS, let’s be clear. I accepted your professional military advice that the presence of the NATO group, with Padstow as part of it, would send a strong signal to the Russians. And now… and now the ship is sunk and most of the crew are dead or missing.” The Prime Minister’s voice then went ominously quiet. “Kindly explain.”

Now it was Mainwaring’s turn to look shocked. He knew he owed his place as the Head of the Armed Forces to his ability to work the Whitehall machine and ingratiate himself with politicians. Now he was facing a personal disaster. He had been looking forward to his imminent retirement and taking his place in the House of Lords, but that had to be in jeopardy. For the first time in his carefully constructed career he had got it badly wrong. And what his wife would say when she heard was a different level of disaster altogether.

“Prime Minister.” He pushed such considerations aside and forced himself to speak calmly and authoritatively. “The Chiefs have just met and we’ve considered the position. We believe that the UK needs to show strength at a time like this. We’ve had a disaster… but we’ve faced disasters as a nation before and always come out of it.”

The Prime Minister looked at him. “What do you propose?”

“Prime Minister,” replied Mainwaring, “we have to accept that the sinking of HMS Padstow is an act of war by Russia and the invasion of Latvia means we are bound under Article Five of the Washington Treaty to come to their assistance. It is too late to send land forces, although we’ve given orders for them to go to immediate readiness to move. We’re concerned that a deployment of air forces—ours and theirs shooting each other down—might commit us earlier than we necessarily want to be committed. The recommendation of your Chiefs of Staff Committee, which I am authorized to pass on to you as your government’s principal military adviser…”

Walker could see the Prime Minister’s irritation at this pompous and long-winded soldier who had, on an instant, stopped using the word “I” and was already maneuvering to a position of joint blame and responsibility by using the words “we” and “committee.” But the Prime Minister also played this game and played it a lot better than this already failed general.

“Do get to the point, CDS,” he said tersely.

Mainwaring continued, “As I was saying, Prime Minister, the recommendation of your Chiefs of Staff is to deploy a strong naval force to the Baltic. It will be a demonstration of our solidarity with Latvia and the other Baltic states; it shows that we are a good NATO ally, but by poising ourselves at sea, we can remain uncommitted.”

“And what will this force consist of?”

“We propose to send a Task Group based on HMS Queen Elizabeth, Prime Minister.”

Walker knew that Queen Elizabeth, an aircraft carrier and the biggest ship ever to enter service in the Royal Navy, had just been commissioned. But he’d also noted in his daily scrutiny of the newspapers that various retired admirals, generals, and even air chief marshals had long been fulminating that the F-35 aircraft meant to fly off her decks had not yet been declared fit for operations. It was rare, in his considerable experience of Whitehall, for all three branches of the Services to agree on anything, but this seemed something they were all of one mind on, which was worrying.

“Boss, you might want to know if she has any aircraft yet?” Walker interrupted.

The Prime Minister raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Well…” Mainwaring paused. “It is correct that it will be some years before the F-35 Joint Strike Fighters we’re buying from the Americans will be operational. However, our considered military advice is that we can still have an important deterrent effect by embarking a Royal Marines Commando unit of around seven hundred men on board Queen Elizabeth, together with the Merlin and Chinook support helicopters needed to lift them. Also, the Task Group will have an amphibious ship in support—and that’s got landing craft, so that we can put the troops ashore if we need to.”

“And what do you suppose the Commando will do?” The Prime Minister was perplexed.

“Well, that’s the point, Prime Minister,” replied Mainwaring, his West Country burr moderating as he began to regain the initiative. “We retain great flexibility. If we need to put them ashore, we can. On the other hand, by poising off shore they’ll keep the Russians guessing as to our intentions.”

“And the Russians? How will they react?”

“It is our considered view that they would not dare attack the Queen Elizabeth. By sending the Task Force we would be saying, ‘Thus far maybe, but no further.’”

The Prime Minister looked at Walker.