The IV Corps commander turned purple with rage. He loathed the rear-area slackers and civilian ninnies who infested the headquarters’ neon-lit corridors. Not one of them knew what real soldiering was all about. He stabbed a finger at his aide. “You tell Minister Guichy and the rest of his bootlickers that I’m busy fighting a war here. And tell them that we’ll be able to advance faster when they clear the goddamned Poles and Czechs out of the sky and out of our way! Not before!”
“Yes, sir.” The major saluted and headed for the command vehicle carrying their secure communications channels. Fabvier’s ill-tempered words were about to stir up more trouble than he’d imagined.
Eleven men sat around the large circular table that nearly filled the underground War Room. Aides occupied chairs behind them, ready to run errands or to translate. Six of the men at the table, the service chiefs of the French and German armed forces, wore uniforms. The rest were in civilian clothes. Although the ventilation system was running on high, a haze of cigarette smoke hung near the low ceiling. The high-ranking members of the European Confederation’s Defense Committee had been meeting in urgent session since early that morning.
“Clearly, gentlemen, we can no longer operate under the delusion that this action will be swift and painless.” Jurgen Lettow, Germany’s Defense Minister, sounded exhausted. “Perhaps we should consider the possibility of a negotiated end to this crisis — before it worsens. As I see it, the Swiss offer to mediate could yield…”
Nicolas Desaix listened with mounting irritation. With the Confederation already at war, it was far too late for any misgivings about the use of force to restore Hungary’s military government to power. Now that the shooting had actually started, the only thing that mattered was to win, and win quickly. Anything short of unmistakable victory would shatter the Confederation he had so painstakingly forged.
Several of the smaller countries, Austria included, were already increasingly reluctant to honor their treaty commitments. Austrian troops that should have been guarding IV Corps supply lines were being held inside their own country — ostensibly for “national security” reasons.
The French Foreign Minister shifted restlessly in his chair. He abhorred this necessity to wage war by committee. By their very nature, deliberation and compromise were the enemies of swift and decisive action. If it were possible to talk one’s way to victory, French and German tanks would have been in Budapest two days ago.
In any event, Lettow was right about one thing. Their initial timetables and casualty estimates had been wildly optimistic. The invasion planners had believed the Hungarian government-in-exile’s claims that their soldiers wouldn’t fight hard for the new regime. Of course, the Hungarian generals had been wrong — and not for the first time. According to intelligence reports, nearly all of Hungary’s tank and motor rifle brigades were actively siding with the revolutionaries in Budapest.
But the appearance of Polish and Czech aircraft over the battlefield had been the biggest and most unpleasant surprise so far. Operating from sanctuaries inside their own territory, their fighters and fighter-bombers were proving a serious annoyance. More than that, in fact, if General Fabvier’s reports could be believed. Desaix had to admit that he had never imagined that the Eastern European “free trade” states would offer Hungary more than moral support, American and British backing must be making them bolder than prudence would otherwise dictate.
Desaix glanced down the table toward Schraeder. Did the German Chancellor share Lettow’s belated misgivings? He couldn’t tell. The Chancellor just sat there, saying little and showing even less.
Still, Schraeder had studied history. Whether or not he had misgivings, he must know that generals and politicians who led their nations into unsuccessful wars never held power for long afterward. It was too late to back away now.
Desaix leaned forward in his chair, interrupting Lettow. “The Swiss offer may be kindly meant, Herr Lettow. But I really do not see that we have anything to talk about!”
He aimed his words toward the German Chancellor’s end of the table. “We support the legitimate government of Hungary — a fellow member of this Confederation. All our actions to restore that government and good order are in accordance with international law and our own treaty obligations.” Desaix put steel in his voice. “If anyone backs away from this crisis, it must be Poland and its friends — not us!”
Several of the others muttered their agreement with his hawkish stance. Schraeder nodded reluctantly. Lettow merely looked appalled.
“And how do you think we should persuade them of that, Nicolas? With a diplomatic communiqué?” Michel Guichy asked sharply. His position as head of the Defense Secretariat made him the most vulnerable of all if their attack on Hungary’s rebel government ended in failure or even a bloody, Pyrrhic victory.
Desaix shook his head. “No. Words mean nothing when bombs are falling. I have a somewhat more practical form of communication in mind. A way to put Warsaw and the rest on notice that we will not let them meddle in Hungary — not without paying a very high price.”
He turned toward the short, sallow-faced commander of the French Air Force. “General Vichery is better qualified to brief you on the military aspects. General?”
“Of course, Minister.” Vichery rose and strode to a wall map at one end of the War Room. Symbols showed the location of all known friendly and enemy ground and air units along the Confederation’s eastern border. One after the other, he pointed to three airfields, two in Poland and one in the Czech Republic. “These are the linchpins of the enemy air campaign against us. But all of them are vulnerable to attack. One swift, coordinated strike could cripple these facilities.”
Lettow broke in suddenly. “You cannot be serious, Minister Desaix! There are American air force technicians and advisors stationed at those bases!”
“What of it?” Desaix said coldly. “With or without an official declaration, Poland and the others are making war against us, Herr Lettow! The air bases General Vichery has identified are being used to mount attacks that are killing Confederation pilots and ground troops. By remaining there, by continuing to work with the Poles, these Americans have become combatants. And as combatants, they are at risk.” He scowled. “It is time to make the American people and their Congress aware of the dangerous games their President is playing with American lives!”
Lettow swallowed visibly. “But the risk of war with the United States…”
“Is minimal,” Desaix finished for him. “Except for a few hundred technicians and trainers, the Americans have no significant military presence in Europe. And no easy way to get any more soldiers to Poland in time to matter.” He shrugged. “They would also be fighting a war on our ground and at the far end of a very long line of communications. Given that, I believe Washington will very quickly see reason. They will not fight a war they cannot win.”
He looked expectantly at Schraeder and the rest of the Confederation Defense Committee. “So the question remains, gentlemen. Do we allow the Poles and Czechs to attack us with impunity? Or will we strike back and put an end to this nonsense once and for all?”
One after the other they nodded their approval for the retaliatory air raids he proposed. Only Lettow grimly shook his head.