Robinson nodded. McLachlan could be a martinet from time to time, but he knew his business, even if he had been known for insisting on perfect grooming in the field. Everyone hatred training until they had actually been under fire, in which case they loved it; they could never get enough training. The new enlisted soldiers, who had been surprised by the intensity of their early days in the army, would be astonished to discover that they would be expected to train until they reached the end of their careers. Far too many of them had come unprepared to the army.
“We will be deploying one week from today to Rheindahlen,” McLachlan finished, after briefly detailing the other units that had been assigned to EUROFOR, including several French, German and Spanish units. “I expect that all of you will have your battalions and companies ready before we move to Catterick Garrison, where we will be transported to Germany. It may not be the Falklands, but I expect each and every one of you to carry out his or her duty to the best of your ability. And besides, we have to show up the French at something other than football.”
There were some chuckles. “Dismissed!”
Chapter Four: Storm Warning
A form of government that is not the result of a long sequence of shared experiences, efforts, and endeavours can never take root.
Brussels, Belgium
“You know,” Captain Saundra Keshena remarked, as the two American officers made their way towards the centre of Brussels, “I’m fairly sure that it is impossible for one man to have so many muscles.”
Colonel Seth Fanaroff smiled as he studied the statue of General Éclair. It said something about how highly General Éclair was regarded that the Pentagon had flown its flag at half-mast the day his death had been confirmed — although, incidentally, not the manner of it. Even the most data-constipated bureaucrat in Brussels had hesitated before admitting that their finest commanding officer — a Frenchman who had had the political skills of Eisenhower matched with the military skills of Sherman — had killed himself because of the impossible task he had faced and the disaster that had occurred. The Americans had learnt something about accomplishing the impossible after the Pakistani Incursion and the Second Afghanistan War; the European Union hadn’t learned anything until too late.
Fanaroff wasn’t that surprised. His role as the United States Military Intelligence liaison to the European Defence Force — EUROFOR — gave him a unique insight into how the institution worked. It had been the result of so many political compromises that it was surprising that the attempt to send troops to the Sudan had ever gotten off the ground; EUROFOR was all chiefs and very few Indians. The day that NATO had dissolved in a shower of acrimony had been proclaimed as the ‘hour of Europe’ — years later, the Europeans were still waiting for their military to actually do something useful. Billions of Euros had been spent… on what?
“They idealise him,” Fanaroff said, without any real anger in his voice. America and Europe were decoupled these days; even his message wouldn’t change anything. There had been a time when V Corps had been stationed in Germany; a powerful force of tanks, infantry, mobile rocket launchers… even tactical nuclear weapons. Now, there were only a handful of American officers in Europe, mainly liaison officers like Fanaroff himself, even though there was little actual cooperation, at least in the public eye. There were people in the Pentagon who believed that the real reason for Turkey’s rejection from the EU had been because of the possibility of having to work with American forces in the Middle East. “The one man who could have built EUROFOR into a real army.”
The entire system was bizarre, something that proved, more than anything else, that Europe considered itself unthreatened. EUROFOR had only four multinational regiments; the remainder of the force considered of units that were assigned to EUROFOR by the national governments that owned them. It was worse in the European Air Force; all that was owned was a handful of helicopters and the former NATO force of Sentry AWACS. As for the navy…
His lips twitched. The European Standing Force in the Mediterranean consisted of units from five different countries, trying to work together in the face of mounting political infighting over just what they could do to the force of immigrants that swarmed across the water every night. For some reason, the people in Algeria thought that France would provide a better home for them than Algeria… and, with the show trials and executions for everyone who showed even the slightest urge to question the government, it was easy to see their point. Nothing short of machine gunning every last boat would have stopped it… and the European Governments refused to take that step.
Captain Saundra Keshena looked up at him. “Sir?”
Fanaroff smiled to himself. “Yes?”
“Sir,” Saundra asked, “why are we here?”
“I assume you don’t mean in the cosmic sense,” Fanaroff teased her. She was a conscript, one of the unlucky third of the American female population who had been drafted into the armed forces. There was some evidence that the five years service that each conscript had to do in the Army was improving America, but Fanaroff himself wanted more information before passing judgement; Saundra seemed only suited to be a paper-pusher, something the army already had too many of. “We’re here to talk to the European Defence Commission and see if they’ll listen to us.”
He felt his eyes narrow as they passed a series of protesters. Brussels saw more protests than any other European city, ever since it had become the capital of the European Union, in name as well as fact. Some protesters were demanding easier immigration, others were opposing the desperate attempts to limit immigration, some were demanding military intervention in one struggling country or another… and all of them were opposed to America. One protester was even against the American determination to maintain embassies in every European country; never mind the fact that that had been a European balls-up from start to finish. The European Parliament had tried to set itself up as the only voice for Europe and national governments had stamped down hard. America hadn’t been involved.
It was the first time that Saundra had visited the headquarters of the European Defence Commission, the home of EUROFOR. Judging from her stare, she wasn’t impressed; the Europeans had spent enough money to create and outfit two armoured divisions on a building that could only be described as an eyesore. The security around it was a joke; Fanaroff had seriously considered taking a bomb in one day and rubbing the collective nose of EUROFOR in its own weakness. Everyone knew, one day, that the Terror War would spread to Europe… apart from those responsible for Europe’s defence.
“It’s a giant dick,” Saundra protested. “What were they thinking?”
“You should hear what the grunts call it,” Fanaroff said, for once serious. “That, my dear, is what happens when you let Joe Shit have free reign.”
The security hadn’t improved since the last time he had visited; the guards swung sensors over their bodies and checked the mobile phones, terminals and briefcases they both carried. Fanaroff, who knew that sensors could be spoofed quite easily by someone with the right equipment, was nervous; there was a reason why the Pentagon insisted on a strip search before allowing anyone into the building. In Europe, after a couple of occasions where guards had strip-searched a veiled woman, even female guards had been forbidden to search anyone. It was a disaster waiting to happen.