Budarenko took his seat at the General Secretary’s desk. Yermolov cleared his throat and looked at his Defense Minister expectantly while sipping his tea. The minister removed from his case a thin folder with two thick red lines across one corner and the words TOP SECRET stamped on it in large red letters.
The minster placed the folder in front of Yermolov, who glanced at it for a moment before turning to the Defense Minister.
“What have you brought me this morning?” Yermolov inquired.
“This, Mr. General Secretary, is the plan for the introduction of forces into the German Democratic Republic”, replied the minister.
“Good. And what order of battle do you require to restore order there?” asked the General Secretary.
“In the first phase, ten thousand tanks, plus reserve forces near the border.”
The General Secretary could not believe his ears. He stood up, still clutching his steaming cup of tea. His whole body shook. He put his cup on the desk and stared straight into the eyes of his Minister of Defense.
“Ten thousand tanks”, he roared. “Now tell me, Mr. Minister, are you confused with the zeros? I think I heard one more zero than needed. You meant one thousand tanks, didn’t you? Only yesterday you said that in 1968, in Czechoslovakia, you could have succeeded with only five hundred tanks. Now you need twenty times more? Why? Both countries are similar in size and population. Why do you need all this force?”
Marshal Budarenko did not respond.
“Do you want all of NATO to be on red alert?” continued the General Secretary in a raised voice. “I don’t understand you, I really don’t, Why does everything you do have to be grand, bombastic?”
“Mr. General Secretary”, Marshal Budarenko replied, “If you read the whole document in front of you, you will find all the answers to your questions. But to address your question about Czechoslovakia, there are substantial differences between the situations in the two countries. In Czechoslovakia, we acted in summer, in August, and now, in the GDR, it is winter. Germany is much further north than Czechoslovakia, and its winter is harsher, wetter and muddier. Our tanks will be less mobile. Therefore, we will need many, many more tanks as backup.”
“Mr. Marshal”, the General Secretary reverted to the form of address he often used when at odds with his minister. “I am not an expert like you in maneuvering armored columns, but if the surface is impassable to one tank, then it is impassable to ten and even one thousand tanks. If you have any doubts about the tanks’ abilities to manouver, send fewer tanks and more armored personnel carriers that are lighter and more mobile.”
He paused, expecting an answer from the Minister, but this did not come. “Why do we need all these tanks? Who do you think you’ll be fighting there? These are civilians, workers and students.”
The rivalry between these two men, close in age and with similar backgrounds in the Great Patriotic War, as WWII was known in the Soviet Union, was long-standing. Yet Marshal Budarenko knew that he could not deceive his superior as he had deceived others. Now he could not help but admire the “civilian”, as he derisively called the General Secretary behind his back, especially in closed military meetings. He recognized Yermolov’s outstanding analytical abilities and common sense, and he was thankful for Yevgeni’s superior planning talent to help him clear the hurdles facing him.
“Mr. General Secretary”, the minister repeated calmly. “All the answers to your questions are here, in this document that I gave you. But I would say that my mission and duty are to prepare our Armed forces to face the worst scenario. The rebels’ strength and influence are so great now that it is possible, even probable, that in response to our invasion, the German Democratic leadership will order the Landstreitkraft[4] to resist us and fight on the side of the rebels. I must remind you, Mr. Secretary, that the GDR has the second strongest army among our Warsaw Pact allies. We were quick and eager to supply them with every modern tank that we produced. They are equivalent to us in the quality of their ordinance. As I see it, it is highly likely that we will find them facing us and defending their land against our forces. Therefore, we must have an overwhelming force, to suppress any notion they might have of resisting us.”
General Secretary Yermolov was beginning to feel that he had reached an impasse. In the past, the Marshal, with characteristic hardheadedness, had dug in and refused to reconsider his position, and he was likely to do so now. He is not about to downsize the force, definitely not the number of tanks, the General Secretary thought. Several minutes later, Yermolov signed Marshal Budarenko’s invasion plans. At least the Defense Minister had conceded, or so Yermolov rationalized, by not planning to invade Western Europe and start another great war. Let the minister have something, rather than everything or nothing at all, Yermolov reasoned.
Marshal Budarenko left the General Secretary’s office in much higher spirits than when he had entered. He smiled at Svetlana with a half wink as he exited her reception area. He had good reason to be satisfied, having gained the General Secretary’s approval of his plan to amass the most powerful armored forces ever assembled in modern history just a few hundred miles from his greatest enemy, the Federal Republic of Germany. Yermolov’s approval guaranteed the Politburo’s approval as well. In time, Budarenko would also mobilize the reserve forces. Soon he would be commanding the largest armored forces the world had ever known.
Chapter 3
The six members of the think tank had spent some time together, although together was true only as far as their being in the same room. They sat at their desks with their documents and writing paper before them. They were working under tremendous strain. Their short deadline and the magnitude of the mission, not least its utmost importance for the future security of their country, inhibited them from producing the brightest, most daring ideas that they could have had under better circumstances. As though the pressure to excel was not enough, their personal careers were also on the line. Marshal Budarenko’s words of “encouragement” still echoed in their minds. One could easily be transferred to a job in much colder, more desolate environments. For hours, they had not raised their voices above a whisper.
The intrepid Colonel Yevgeni was focused on a pile of papers strewn on the desk. From time to time, he would lean towards a man with cropped hair sitting to his right, whom he always addressed by his military rank, Brigadier General Dimitri. The two would exchange information and ideas while jotting down short notes.
The other four team members sat nearby in silence, occasionally glancing at the two working beside them. It seemed that the crew had decided to let Marshal Budarenko’s burden rest on the thin shoulders of Colonel Yevgeni and the broader ones of Brigadier General Dimitri.
Suddenly the door opened, squeaking on its rusty hinges, and in came Gregory in his light blue suit. “Mr. Defense Minister has arrived”, he announced, and the six men rose to attention.
The Minister entered briskly, as usual. To everyone’s surprise, he grabbed a chair and joined them at their desk.
“Good morning, officers”, Budarenko greeted them. He was in a much better mood than the day before.
“Good morning, Mr. Minister of Defense”, the six replied almost in unison.
The minister turned to Sergey. “Sergey”, he said, “The operation order that you prepared for me yesterday has already been signed by Mr. General Secretary. What have you prepared for me now?”