And wasn't that the truth, Pico thought. Artem Mikoyan had been quite explicit about it; even his vaunted new MiG-15 would only have a marginal capability against the Featherweight IV B-36H. He had an advanced version of the aircraft on the drawing board and the Russians had promised to get a prototype MiG-17 over to Nevada as soon as it left the factory. There was an engine development that could help, a thing called reheat. It was another combustion chamber at the rear of the engine where raw fuel was dumped into the jet and ignited. It was supposed to provide a surge of power at high altitude - at the expense of massive fuel consumption. Would it be enough? Mikoyan was gambling it would be with his MiG-1 7 and North American were doing the same with the XF-86D Sabredog. And would it stay enough? There were new versions of the B-36 coming and on the horizon was an all-jet derivative, the XB-60. That was due to fly in a couple of years time. Boeing was designing a rival, a more advanced bomber still, the XB-52. Were the fighters doomed to an everlastingly futile game of catch-up? And could anything help them?
“Existing ground based anti-aircraft defenses proved entirety ineffective. Existing anti-aircraft guns could not reach the altitudes flow by the B-36 and the proposed new 120mm gun is also ineffective against targets flying at that altitude. It is urgently advised that maximum effort be placed behind the development of the new Ajax missile.”
The Russians had more to fear than the United States did. The Japanese were introducing two new bombers, derivatives of German designs that were also high-altitude bombers. Pico chuckled to himself, one of them was a version of the He-274 and had been code-named Curt. A name that had been very hurriedly changed to Dick. There were legends about why that had happened. The Russians, their help had been invaluable here. They flew fighters a different way from the American pilots and their ground control techniques were different. Once again, Pico's eye fell on the relevant section of his report.
“Comparison of the American system of free-ranging fighters receiving operational information from ground control and the Russian system of fighters flying under strict course and speed directions from their fighter direction center has shown no clear advantage for either system. Each worked best under specific circumstances. In good weather and where the fighters were covering large areas, the American system worked best. In bad weather and in the point defense of high value targets, the Russian system proved superior.
“The considered opinion of the participants is that the command and control system eventually adopted by NORAD should be a combination of both systems, exploiting the best advantages of each. Further trials will be necessary to determine the exact nature of that combination.”
The Russians had shown something else as well. Their Tu-4s had lumbered up to the range, within easy intercept parameters of the fighters. Only then, they'd turned away, leaving small shapes streaking through the sky towards the targets. Air-to surface missiles, stand-off weapons. Both the Americans and Russians had been working on them but the Russians had got theirs operational first. They'd been too fast for the piston-engined fighters to intercept and the jets had barely enough time to engage them.
Eventually, the answer had been George Preddy and his F-65G Tigercat night fighters. Their radar had allowed them to track the inbound stand-off missiles and plot an intercept. Not a high probability, the Tigercat was too slow for that, but a good possibility. With practice they had one chance in five. Which was more than they had against the B-36. Of course, that raised an ugly possibility, B-36s carrying stand-off missiles.
“The provision of search and target acquisition radars should be considered essential. The increasing speed of modern combat aircraft means that the old days of target acquisition by Mark One Eyeball are no longer viable. A modern radar is so essential to fighter combat that it should be an integral part of the aircraft's design.”
Pico sighed again and rubbed his eyes. His last conclusion was the one he really hated. “'Only one possible form of defense against high-flying heavy bombers appears practical until the new generations of fighters and anti-aircraft missiles enter service. It is most urgently recommended that at least one group of B-36 bombers be assigned to an air defense role and trained in the use of air-to-air bombing of enemy aircraft using nuclear weapons.”
Damn, he thought, was this what the world had come to? The nightmares he'd had ever since looking back on the twelve mushroom clouds rising over Berlin seemed to crowd in on him. Air-to-air bombing with nuclear weapons was the least-worst option. The world really was going mad.
Headquarters, Second Karelian Front, Riga, “The Baltic Gallery”
“Well, we've done it Erwin. We've done the impossible.” The map was empty; the last units of Army Group Vistula had surrendered. Oddly, quite a few of the problematic units, the ones that had been expected to cause the worst complications, had suddenly turned out to be 'Polish'. They'd been given a choice, join the new Polish Army supporting the Russian-sponsored government or dig uranium ore with wooden shovels. They'd joined the Polish Army.
With eyes wide open, for they knew what Rommel and Rokossovsky both knew. The units would get the dirty jobs, the suicidal attacks, be rammed into the fighting again and again until they were all gone. But, they would die on their feet, like men, not diseased troglodytes coughing their lungs out in the radioactive dust of a uranium mine. That was a deal worth making and they'd taken it. All but one. General Otto Skorzeny had shot himself the night after his last unit had surrendered to the Russians. Rommel thought of him with contempt. In the end, he hadn't had the courage to face responsibility for what he'd done. Physical courage, he'd had in plenty but not moral courage. Perhaps, Rommel fought, that was what had led Germany astray, too much physical courage, too much physical skill at fighting, not enough moral courage to ask why?
“Your General Staff was a remarkable organization Erwin, quite remarkable. Twice this century, it has taken on almost the whole world and nearly fought it to a standstill. And never once did one of its members ask 'Why are we taking on the whole world?' Never once.”
Rommel shook his head helplessly. He'd learned too much over the months of negotiations to argue the point. It was redundant anyway, the General Staff were ashes floating somewhere in an incinerated Germany. “I can't disagree with you Konstantin. Looking back now, we started to go astray sometime in the 19th century, those damned unreadable philosophers everybody quotes and raves about but can't be bothered to study in full. They poisoned the minds of just enough people and the whole world had to pay.”
“It did Erwin, but there is blame enough for more than just you Germans. The rest of Europe shares your guilt and is being punished now for its sins. They saw the cancer growing in its midst and they did nothing to cut it out. And we Russians have more blame than most to bear. We didn't just fail to cut the cancer out; we helped it grow and caught a bad case of the disease ourselves. Perhaps why we have been punished so terribly. I do not know. There are those in Russia who say that what has happened is God's punishment for our sin of omission. They may be right but such things are not our concern today. It is not the question of the blame of one people or one nation but that of one man. You, Erwin.'“