Liggett leaned forward. “And these so-called volunteers are assigned to General Hutier?”
“Yes sir, at least this man’s regiment is. He didn’t know of any other Austrian units in California and I believe him.”
Sims was puzzled. “Why is his attachment to Hutier of such a concern?”
Liggett answered. “Hutier is an innovator. He may be a genius or a fool, depending, of course on whether or not he succeeds. He may have read of the Union General Emory Upton in the later stages of our Civil War, since his own theories mimic Upton’s. In short, Hutier believes in brief, intense bombardments followed by sharp, limited attacks at weak points that have been identified by people such as those in an Alpine regiment. Perhaps they will even use poison gas. The attackers swarm through in limited fronts, bypassing strongpoints, leaving them for followup forces to destroy.”
“Then Hutier’s corps is going to carry out the main attack?” Sims asked.
“Not likely,” Liggett answered. “There are too many logistical and geographic problems. Hutier’s corps is separated by bad terrain from the rest of the Germans, which limits the forces that can be used against the city. I am confident that the main German attack will come along the east side of the bay and try to sweep north of a monumentally outnumbered and outgunned American army in San Francisco, which must then either surrender or be pounded to pieces.
“Hutier’s attack, however, could be devastating if he manages to punch through to the city proper. It’s a digression without much cost. We must defend against it. If it succeeds, they will have won an inexpensive victory. In theory, Hutier’s tactics will work for a while, but his troops will sustain heavy casualties and run out of energy when dealing with a defense in depth. Unfortunately, the Germans are already through two of our three levels of fortification; thus, we do not really possess a defense in depth. If we are distracted by a massive assault elsewhere, Hutier may try to punch his way into the city and he may succeed.”
“We need to reinforce the city, sir,” said Ike.
“Easier said than done,” answered Liggett. “We’d have to strip lines where we think the main attack will come. In the meantime, I am creating a floating reserve by stripping badly needed men and guns from our trenches and placing them in a position where they can reinforce the point of attack.”
“Excellent,” said Sims.
“Possibly,” said Liggett. “The Germans will have doubtless anticipated this and will use their aerial superiority to interdict any attempt to reinforce the main army. We will use every plane we have to protect those troops moving up.”
Sims nodded. Not every plane, thought, he thought. “General Eisenhower, do you have a good idea where the attack will come?”
“Yes, Admiral,” He walked to the map and pointed to an area ten miles east of the bay in the middle of General von Mackensen’s army. Like Hutier, Mackensen was an exponent of sharp, limited attacks. Although seventy years old, the general was still a very competent field commander. “Our spies and the few flyovers we’ve managed to make indicate a major buildup in this area.”
Sims was puzzled. “Far be it for me to question army tactics, General, but why not reinforce the threatened area now? Why wait until the attack begins when it is reasonably obvious that’s where it will fall?”
Liggett mulled it over. Part of him hated being told his job by a damned admiral, no matter how close they’d become. But did Sims have a better idea than his? Damn. He remembered the dictum that he who defends everything winds up defending nothing. If he kept his army where it was, it would be too weak to repel a major assault. If he immediately reinforced the likely area of attack, he would strip other areas of what men and weapons they had. But then, they would be defeated anyhow. If he reinforced the area now and didn’t wait for the attack, he wouldn’t have to worry that much about German planes.
“We’ll do it,” he decided. “However, we do have men coming down by train from Seattle. When they arrive, they will immediately be sent to San Francisco. These are the men who made it across the Columbia River. It’s maddening that it’s taking so long for them to get here, but there is only one railroad line and virtually no other roads through the north that are useable this time of year.”
“I pray they will be in time,” said Sims. “But in the name of God, what about poison gas? Could the Germans be barbaric enough to introduce it?”
Poison gas had not been used by either side in the 1914 War, but the Germans had used it in Russia against the Reds. The horrific results had stunned the world and further cast the kaiser in the role of Attila the Hun.
Liggett glared. “When you consider their other atrocities, why not?”
“With respect, sirs,” Luke injected, “I think it’s highly unlikely they’ll introduce gas. The prevailing winds are from the west-northwest, which means they’d likely blow the gas back over the German lines.”
“What a pleasant thought, Luke. Are you a hundred per cent certain of that?” Liggett asked.
“No sir, I’m not. There could always be exceptions. Also, I have no idea how many German casualties the kaiser’s oldest son is willing to accept in order to achieve victory. Having gone this far, however, I think they Germans would be willing to accept enormous casualties to achieve their goals.”
CHAPTER 22
The final bombardment began at first light. The shells landed on the area where Luke and Ike had predicted. Now they could only hope it wasn’t a well-orchestrated feint. There was no corresponding shelling of American positions on von Hutier’s front.
This time, Luke was prudently far back. Still, as before, the ground shuddered and shook. He recalled the feeling of terror he’d had just a few days earlier when the shells rained down on the bunker. Kirsten was already at the hospital and this time she would be helping with the growing influx of wounded. Letter writing and bookkeeping could come later.
“Poor bloody infantry,” said a familiar voice.
“Hello Reggie, and are you supposed to be here?”
“Dashing young correspondents can dash about wherever they wish,” Carville said as he dumped down a suitcase. “And I have a chit from Liggett that says so, and another one from the kaiser himself if I should happen to be picked up by those nice people from Berlin. Just don’t ask how I happened to come by it.”
Overhead, scores of German planes dipped and swooped like gulls skimming the sea. Only they were strafing the trenches and not looking for fish. Or were they, Luke thought. Maybe they were looking for human fish. Gotha bombers dropped their loads from height and succeeded in hitting not much at all. The explosions, however, were impressive, and must have added to the primal fear of the men underneath them.
Reggie laughed. “High-level bombing is very much a work in process.”
“Thank God.”
“Ah, and here comes the infantry, entering stage left.”
As before, waves of Germans flowed out of their trenches and around their own barbed wire. They hadn’t gone far before the American barrage opened up on them, this time with much more intensity than before. There was no longer reason to save shells or hide guns. The American front had been strengthened by troops from other areas. Luke could only hope that neither the crown prince nor General Mackensen realized that the rest of the American line was virtually defenseless.
This time concentrated machine-gun fire came from the Americans and not the Germans, and Luke exulted. Men were dying in great bloody piles, but they were Germans, not Americans.