‘I agree,’ said Colonel Main.
‘Fletch, what do you think?’ asked Stephens.
‘I agree with Adams, it’s too early for this sort of thing. We should be putting our energy into helping with the defensive operation at hand, whether it’s right or not,’ said Fletch, alternating his gaze between Stephens and the carpet in front of him.
‘Right then, well without your support, I can do nothing. But mark my words, the Chinese will not be stopped. Australia is soon to be a nation occupied by a hostile military for the first time in history,’ said General Stephens.
As each of them left General Stephens’ house, the conversation they just had weighed heavily on their minds. They knew that General Stephens was right, but they also knew that to attempt such a thing would result in their imprisonment. For now, they had to remain under the leadership of Hudson — for better or for worse.
Chapter 3
The defensive operation mounted by Australia’s naval, air and ground forces was predictable. The Chinese had estimated the response and were ruthlessly efficient in their onslaught. China’s fleet of submarines, aircraft carriers and other warships quickly and effortlessly disabled the Australian navy. The prized HMAS John Howard, the newest and biggest of the nation’s destroyers, was unceremoniously sunk off the coast of Far North Queensland without even firing a round. Over 200 men and women were on board the ship when it was hit broadside by a torpedo that turned the vessel into a floating fireball. Fewer than 50 survived.
The navy’s submarines were embarrassingly inept in the face of the Chinese sub-hunting ships, which employed stealth technology to operate silently, making them virtually undetectable. This, coupled with the state-of-the-art underwater sonar equipment and a deadly arsenal of mines and noise-seeking torpedoes, made the sub-hunters a deadly weapon. Australia’s dated submarines were never going to pose a threat to China’s technological might. They were old, loud by modern standards, and completely useless against such an adversary.
The Australian sailors who went to do battle against the Chinese in the submarines went in knowing what they were up against. Each person on board had to have known that it was futile to pit themselves against a modern, aggressive navy. And yet they followed their orders like the dutiful troops they were, sailing off to their inevitable death. Had the Australian public understood how vastly inferior the Australian navy was to the Chinese, they would never have allowed their loved ones to go to sea.
Australia’s two newest German-built submarines, the U215s, which the navy had purchased five years ago, fared much better. Powered by nine hydrogen-oxygen fuel cells, they were silent and had no heat signature. Their composite structure meant they left no magnetic trace and were ideal for patrolling and defending Australia’s vast coast. Nimble and fast, they could dive in just 20 metres of water — allowing them to navigate the tight reefs and waterways common around Australia. But with only two of them in service, their efficacy at neutralising the Chinese navy was limited. Both submarines managed to inflict losses on the Chinese navy, however, after they had delivered their deadly load of missiles and torpedoes, they then had to sail all the way back to Perth in order to reload. Despite their stealth and usefulness in Australian waters, the Chinese considered them a nuisance rather than a genuine threat. The Chinese navy, not even feeling its resources stretched by its engagement with Australia, was expanding its aggression and had also taken control of the offshore oil and gas rigs in the Timor Sea and Indian Ocean.
The RAAF, like the navy, was out-gunned and outnumbered. With three Chinese aircraft carriers stationed around the Gulf of Carpentaria, they quickly created an air defence perimeter — turning the Gulf into a safe-harbour for their carriers, tankers, supply vessels and troopships. From the aircraft carriers, China launched their J-35 fighter jets, which easily took care of the RAAF’s ageing Joint Strike Fighters, the F-35s. Though 20 years old, the F-35s were a phenomenal air-to-air and tactical fighter jet, yet China’s combination of superior hardware and fighter training made the Australian F-35s easy targets.
The fight for air supremacy over the Gulf was over before it began. In the space of a few days the main thrust of Australia’s air force was all but destroyed. The RAAF was forced to hold back its remaining planes for fear that they would be without any air force. As it was, the air force had been reduced to ‘air support’ as opposed to ‘force’.
With air protection assured, the Chinese troopships unloaded their infantry at a small port called Karumba. This was the launching pad for the Chinese army’s sweep down to South Australia.
And so it was that the defence of Australia was left to the infantry. Never before had Australians been forced to fight for their land so literally. The infantry was outnumbered, with little or no air support; they were ill-equipped and poorly trained for this sort of operation, and disillusioned by the staggering might of the Chinese army. Every form of transportation was used to get as many of the country’s fighting men and women to the frontline. By air, by road, by rail, the military descended on the small town of Cloncurry in Queensland, not far from Mount Isa. Over 20,000 Australian troops were gathered in less than seven days. Reports had made it back to the troops of the sinking of HMAS John Howard and the huge losses suffered by the navy and air forces. This further enraged the troops and it was the topic of many conversations around the camp.
The battle lines had been drawn. Australia’s defence would be decided in the desert areas north of Cloncurry. This would be the first push by the Australian army in an attempt to force the Chinese back to Karumba. It would be a joint strike at the mobilised Chinese army with support from the RAAF. While outwardly everyone was full of bravado, the dire reality of the situation could not be mistaken. They were up against insurmountable odds. The only hope, they knew, was to inflict immediate and heavy losses on the Chinese and force them to reconsider their initial plan, perhaps even provoking them to retreat and re-evaluate their options. This would give the Australian army time to manoeuvre and surround the Chinese in an attempt to curb their advance.
The fighting was fierce. Day and night the artillery and air strikes bombarded the battleground. Heavy losses were incurred on both sides. China could afford them, but Australia could not. In the three days of fighting, the Australian forces did not push the Chinese back one millimetre. At the very pointy end of Australia’s defence was the 5th Battalion Infantry Regiment, a proud and distinguished unit whose history went back to the Second World War. In the Vietnam conflict of the 1960s, the battalion earned the name ‘Tiger Battalion’ for its ferocious and highly efficient fighting ability in the jungle.
Major Pete Cowell commanded C Company of the Tiger Battalion. He had barely slept in the last three days of conflict and now, sitting in his foxhole surrounded by a rag-tag bunch of men whose rank meant nothing at this stage of fighting, his eyes became uncontrollably heavy. There was a respite in the fighting, a lull that had a distinct feeling of being the eye of the storm. With the almost rhythmic sound of heavy artillery landing on the Chinese forces nearby, his world was fast turning black and he was slipping into unconsciousness. It was night, and even this far north it was cool in the desert. The air was filled with a myriad of constantly changing smells. One second it was crisp, clean and earthy, as the desert should smell, then the breeze would change and the smell of death, violence and pain would fill the air. At times, the air was so thick with the stench of death that Major Cowell felt he was choking.