The overall effect was that his unit was being ground down and he had absolutely nothing to show for it. He couldn’t point to a single action and say ‘this is it, this is where they are’. Instead, he was being nibbled to death by mice. Well, when infested with mice, one laid traps.
“Get the mortar platoon loaded up. We’ll make a push down A68, towards Tha Sao.” That was an important road junction where the dirt-track A68 turned into an all-weather blacktop road. “When the Labyut move to block us, we’ll pin them down with mortar fire. Then we’ll have them.”
“Very good Sir.” The radio operator got on the network to pass the orders through to the mortar battery. “Sir, battery commander says he’ll register fire on the area you want, but he needs more ammunition. He’s only got the remnants from the unit of fire that he had yesterday, no supplies have come through.”
“Why not?”
“Sir, the supply officer is on another channel.”
“Put him on.” There was a pause and then Ye Twat barked down the phone. “Why aren’t the supplies getting through?”
“It’s the Labyut Sir. They have infiltrated behind us, they ambushed some of the porters. Wiped out the ones they hit, the rest have dumped their loads and run away. Or, worse, they’ve joined up with the Labyut and handed the supplies they were carrying over.”
Ye Twat swore picturesquely. That was the trouble with dealing with the Labyut as the Myanmar Army referred to the Thai regulars. They started by bribing people to change sides and things usually got worse from there. The problem was that the Myanmar Army depended on impressed porters to manpack its supplies forward and their efforts to force Thai villagers into that role had been monumentally unsuccessful. Most of the villagers had slipped away and the few that had remained had vanished with their loads soon after. Ye Twat guessed with grim despair that the stolen supplies would end up in a Thai marketplace within a week. Probably marked as a ‘special offer’.
That was when he heard an eerie howl overhead. Hones by years of fighting the Shan States Army, his ears told him “inbound” and he realized he had been on the radio much too long. That was something he’d never had to worry about fighting the SSA, their radio interception capability was barely measurable. He had only just enough time to wonder how the Thais had done it when the shells crashed down on the area occupied by his headquarters.
What saved him was the long range. The Thai GHN-45s were operating at the limit of even their long range and their dispersion was enough to give the headquarters staff a fighting chance of survival. Five kilometers closer in and they would have been wiped out by the 155mm shells but in that fine margin lay the difference between a headquarters unit crippled and one wiped out. A dozen shells landed, then the Thai gunners shifted to a new target as their Atila fire control systems shifted priorities to the next target set reported by the platoon-sized battlegroups. Looking at the ruin of his headquarters, Ye Twat decided that the war was not going well.
Headquarters, Third Army, Kanchanaburi, Thailand.
“Get me through to General Petraeus, right now.” General Asanee snapped the order out to her communications officer.
“Yes Ma’am. On the way.”
She picked up the telephone and thumbed the button for Line One. “American Express? Good, Commander Third Army here. Our officers are using their cards to buy diesel fuel at commercial gas stations. I’d like you to make sure that all such charges are honored. The Army will, of course, guarantee payment…. Yes, that is most co-operative of you. Thank you. If there are any problems, inform me immediately.”
She put the phone down, waited a second and smiled as it rang almost immediately. Things were beginning to shake down into a reasonably efficient headquarters. “General Petraeus? Good to speak with you Sir.”
“And you General. What’s the situation out there?”
“We’ve blocked the southern Myanmarese advance, we’ve got them chasing their own tails. They’re also being free with their radios, that’s a bad habit to get into. We’re picking them up with ELINT aircraft and taking their headquarters down. Most of the locals are helping out, we’re getting a flood of cellphone messages in with information.”
“Be careful General. The Myanmarese could be feeding false info in.”
“Yes Sir, understood. Now, the next portal set, the one for Second Cavalry. I’d like to change plans. The information we have is that Three Pagodas Pass is clear. I want to move a sensitive in up there and deliver Second Cavalry right to the Pass. From there, it’s a straight run on good roads to Moulmein and, eventually, Yangon. That way we’ll bypass the whole of the Myanmar invasion force and trap it south of the Lake. The ground’s too rough to stop them getting out, but they won’t leave as organized units or ones capable of putting up a fight.”
“Just what sort of strength are you talking about here?”
“Myanmarese, so far we’ve got a force estimate of around thirty thousand. We’ve got good intel flowing in now, our patrols are in contact and holding that contact. Second Cavalry, two light armor regiments, one mechanized regiment. Around fifteen thousand sabers.”
At the other end of the line, Petraeus visualized the situation. He could see what Asanee had in mind, an end run that would cut the Myanmar forces off from their base. This would fit very well with his own plans for a counter-offensive if the brewing situation on the Korean Peninsula went hot. In effect, she was offering him a chance to test out the new doctrine in Myanmar before using it in Korea. The concept of moving troops by opening portals to and from Hell offered strategic options that were only now becoming apparent. “How will you supply the units?”
“Sir, every Thai village has a gas station and all of them have large supplies of diesel. Our unit commanders just buy the stuff whenever they need it. Your people never could adapt to that in Cobra Gold, that’s why your vehicles ran out of gas and ours didn’t. There’s enough fuel up at Three Pagodas to keep the division running for four days. By then, we can either open up a land route or portal fuel in from Hell. Ammunition likewise. Food’s no problem, all our troops can live off the jungle.”
“Or have pizza delivered. Yes, General, I’ve heard all about what your troops get up to during Cobra Gold. This isn’t an exercise.”
“No Sir. But, the lessons about living off the country still apply. Sir, take my word on this, we’re good at it. And we’re in amongst our own people, it’s a point of honor for them to help out. Sir, this way we can pull the sort of flanker that hasn’t been done since Inchon.”
“You admire MacArthur?” Petraeus was genuinely interested and it was a good means of stalling while he weighed up the situation..
“Not so much. Ridgeway, yes, very much so. Patton also. So, are our plans approved?”
Petraeus tapped his pad with a pencil, the sound clearly coming through over the phone link. “Yes. General, your orders are to move Second Cavalry to Three Pagodas Pass and then maneuver to seize the supply line of the Myanmar forces.”
General Asanee nodded, then remembered that she wasn’t on the ubiquitous video links that controlled the Human Expeditionary Army. “Very good sir. And thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet General. We’re doing something that has never been done before, maneuvering units like this. If this comes off, everything we learned about strategy will be outdated.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Camp Martinsyde, Phelan Plain, Hell
Times had certainly changed. The couch even had cupholders built into its arms and controls built into the rests allowed the occupants to tailor it to their own satisfaction. It even had a massage system built into the seat padding. Quite a change from the first couch she had used, one that had been hastily kludged together and surrounded by extemporized equipment. Looking fondly at her new work station, kitten settled herself down and started putting on her headset. Beside her, the operators started to warm up the equipment.