"In a nutshell," Linsum continued, "this is the way I believe the Libyans will deploy." Using the pointer, he began to trace imaginary lines on the map. "Altogether, the Libyans have the equivalent of four divisions plus two brigades in Cyrenaica. Two brigades of Revolutionary Guards or militia have deployed along the frontier. They appear to be preparing to conduct covering force operations, delaying and channelizing Egyptian forces for as long as possible. This will buy units in the main defensive belt time to complete their preparations.
"The main belt is manned by a mix of regular army and Revolutionary Guard units equal to three divisions. Battalion and company strong points, called pitas, are being prepared in depth along likely invasion routes. These pitas, which are basically great sand forts, include bunkers, trenches, and firing ramps for tanks and armored fighting vehicles. They are placed in checkerboard fashion with overlapping fires. It will be a major drill to breach the main belt, requiring destruction or neutralization of several of these pitas by direct assault. The main belt extends from the sea south to Al Adam, then southwest to Bir Hakeim. West of Tobruk, there is a buildup of regular army armored and artillery units. These appear to be a mobile reserve, consisting of two brigades, ready to counterattack any force that makes its way through the main belt.
"The real question is the exact disposition of Soviet and Cuban units and their use. CIA puts their strength at two Cuban divisions, one tank and one motorized infantry, and a Soviet independent tank corps consisting of three tank brigades, a motorized rifle brigade, and an artillery brigade. I suspect that they will form a second operational echelon west of Tobruk. In that role, they have two possible missions. The first is to block the Egyptians from advancing any further west. Their mere presence will do this. To attack the Soviets and Cubans would broaden the war and invite further Soviet involvement in the Middle East, something the Egyptians do not want. The second mission for the Soviet and Cuban forces, if the Soviets opt for active participation, is to conduct a counteroffensive. After Libyan forces slow or stop the Egyptian forces in front of Tobruk and the Egyptian offensive has lost its momentum, Soviet forces would be free to launch a counteroffensive. This mission would include the destruction or rollback of the remaining Egyptian forces in Libya and restoration of the original boundary."
Linsum looked across the room to Horn. "Pending any further questions, that's all we have right now, sir."
Horn looked at Linsum for a moment before answering. "No, Ed — not for you, thank you." Turning to the operations officer, Horn asked how the American troops in Egypt were holding up.
"Fine, sir, just fine. The only thing the commander of the 16th Armored Division requested were additional instructions and warning orders."
"What kind of warning orders does he expect us to give him?"
Shrugging his shoulders, the operations officer responded. "I guess he wants to begin preparing contingency plans in the event we have to commit his division."
Irritated, Horn pointed his finger at the man. "Please reiterate to him that his mission is to protect the equipment and ammo storage sites and, on order, evacuate American personnel from Egypt using the brigade from the 11 th Air Assault Division. Beyond that, he has no mission. The President is under a lot of pressure, especially from that distinguished congressman from Tennessee, to pull those people out of there. If we did that, we would be giving the Russians the wrong message. Right now, protecting our bases and civilian personnel, as flimsy as those excuses are, are the only excuse we have to keep them on hand. Any hint that we are preparing to join the Egyptian attack into Libya would be dangerous, to us here and to the President back home." Cooling off, Horn lowered his finger. "Ted, I want you personally to fly over to the division headquarters in the morning to ensure that they understand that…. Any other business before we adjourn?"
The chief of staff leaned over the table. "Sir, one minor point. You were invited to attend the French ambassador's Christmas reception this evening. With the situation as it is, neither you nor the primary staff will be able to attend."
Horn, annoyed by the need to maintain the appearance of normality when nothing was normal, contained his anger. "Well, what do you recommend? Can't offend the diplomatic corps, now, can we?"
The other officers laughed. The chief continued. "I recommend we send Colonel Dixon. He's known to most of the diplomats and is at this time quite a celebrity. His presence would more than cover your absence."
Everyone turned to look at Dixon. Dixon said nothing, but he could feel his ears begin to burn in anger.
Horn smiled. "Good idea. Probably would do Scott a world of good to get out of this hole and associate with real people." Turning back to the chief, Horn asked again, "Anyone else have any other pressing issues?"
When no one answered, Horn stood up and picked up the folder containing the intelligence summary. "Okay, that's all for now. Jim, give me half an hour to digest this summary, then see me in my office. Scott, you can see me about the Special Forces operations tomorrow. Be prepared to discuss the Sudanese situation in greater detail." Scanning the group, Horn thanked them and left the briefing room.
Pausing for a moment, Captain Hassan Saada stood erect in the ceaseless wind and checked his bearings. On such a night it was easy to lose one's orientation and wander outside the circle of tanks into the trackless desert. Saada's tank battalion, equipped with American-built M-60A3 tanks, was formed in a loose circle with a diameter of three hundred meters. As he returned from a final orders briefing at the battalion commander's post, located in the center of the circle, Saada's mind was cluttered with details of the upcoming operation and with personal fears that kept him from concentrating on the work yet to be done.
The operation, from his standpoint, seemed to be simple. Just prior to dawn on the thirteenth of December, his unit would cross the Egyptian-Libyan frontier and support the attack of a strongpoint. The strongpoint, manned by a reinforced infantry company, was little more than an outpost. Its purpose was to act as an early warning and cover the deployment of the main Libyan mobile forces.
What bothered Saada most about the operation was what would happen once they were in Libya. The purpose of the operation, as explained by his battalion commander, was to punish the Libyans. Saada could understand the need to do so. After all, terrorism, regardless of whether or not it was successful, still needed to be stopped. The Egyptian military was by far the best able to deal out that punishment. The use of the army, however, was, in Saada's mind, questionable. An air strike, much like those conducted by the Americans in 1986, was far simpler, quicker, and more spectacular. The air force would be able to do far more damage to Libya in one afternoon than an entire army division could do in two days.
Pausing for a moment, Saada wondered if his assessment was clouded by his apprehension about going into battle for the first time. Yes, he thought, how easy it would be for me to let someone else punish the Libyans. After five years of service, he had never been called forward to put his life on the line, to fulfill his obligation to his government and his people. His oath of service was a commitment that bound him to defend his nation and its people. It was, to him, a blood oath, one that required the ultimate sacrifice, if necessary.
For years he had enjoyed the prestige of being an officer. He had taken advantage of the pay and the benefits that came with his position and rank. Now, when his government was calling on him to meet his end of the contract, he was flinching, looking for a way out. Did that make him a coward? Or was it simply a human reaction to pending danger? Looking up at the crescent moon, Saada wished he had someone with whom he could share his fears and apprehensions. He wished he could talk to his father. He had always had the right answer when Saada was a boy. His father was a harsh man but a just and wise one.