Operation musketeer, p.6
Operation Musketeer, page 6
Hungary was being particularly aggressive in their desire to leave the Soviet Union. There was a part of Khrushchev that felt that they should have a right to go their own way if that is what the Hungarian people wanted. But there was also a part of him that knew that if his reforms to the Soviet system were given enough time, the people of Hungary would realize that Communism was a success and would want to stay in the union. He was also concerned that if one nation abandoned the Soviet Union others might rise up and follow its example. Khrushchev had learnt that one can never predict the mind of the people. He could see the buffer zone the USSR had created between Russia and Europe breaking away. The fear of NATO tanks and warplanes on Russia’s doorstep was too much. He could not let that happen.
The Suez Crisis could not have come at a worse time for Khrushchev. He had worked hard to influence the Arab leaders. He didn’t imagine that the Arabs would accept Communism right away. It would take time and friendly persuasion. It would take the failure of democracy and capitalism to relieve the Arabs’ suffering before they would rise up. He was not prepared for Nasser’s daring move of nationalizing the Suez Canal. In fact, he had warned Nasser against it. It was too early on the path to socialism and too risky. But Nasser had been emboldened by his new Soviet weapons and his fear of the Western nations had fallen away. As with Khrushchev, the British and French were in no mood for Nasser’s impudence and were now threatening to invade Egypt. All that had been gained by the young leader would be lost, and with it his dream of Arab unity, an admirable goal in Khrushchev’s eyes.
Khrushchev needed to focus on the problems in Hungary, not Egypt. His resources were stretched too thin. He couldn’t possibly help Nasser militarily, not until the Hungarian problem had been dealt with. But there were other ways in which the Soviet Union might help Nasser. After all, international politics were just another arena of war and one that Khrushchev was quite good at.
Khrushchev did not want to pick a fight with NATO but he also knew that if he failed to back Egypt and failed to put down the demonstrations in Hungary, NATO members would see it as weakness. He knew that one day the USSR would need to destroy NATO if Communism was to become the dominate political system in the world. But today was not that day. He needed to prepare and organize his resources. He needed more nations with their armies under the USSR umbrella. He needed to sow discord among the Western nations and the countries that still hadn’t chosen sides in the struggle between capitalism and Communism. He needed to develop the technologies that would give the Soviet Union the edge it needed against NATO. Most of all, he needed time.
Khrushchev was in a most difficult position. Like a cornered bear, his first instinct was to attack and demonstrate his power. It was to be a battlefield with two fronts; Hungary and Egypt. He needed to win them both to re-establish the Soviet Union’s dominance. The decision was made. It was time to act. Khrushchev asked to speak at the Presidium the next day.
Standing in front of the Soviet Union’s leaders, Khrushchev said, “We should take the initiative by re-establishing order in Hungary. If Hungary breaks away from the Soviet Union, it will give a boost to the Americans, the English and the French. The imperialists will be seen as successful in their feeble attempts to influence our satellite nations and bring down the USSR. The Western countries will interpret this as weakness on our part and will launch a major offensive against us. An offensive that we are not yet ready to repel. We cannot let that happen. We must show strength.”
The members of the Presidium showed their support by pounding their fists on their desks and cheering. Khrushchev knew that the leaders both respected and feared him. They didn’t dare refuse his request. The vote that followed was unanimous, as usual.
Boston, USA
The air was brisk and most of the autumn leaves had fallen. The American election was only three days away. Hoping for a second term, President Eisenhower, bundled in his long coat, stood in the back of a limousine waving to the crowds gathered along the streets of downtown Boston. There was little doubt that he was going to beat his democrat opponent Adlai Stevenson but Eisenhower didn’t like to take chances. Although he was considered a conservative, Americans knew that he was not a typical war hawk. The people had enough of war and wanted American soldiers to stay home. But there was also a growing fear of Communism. Eisenhower was a hardliner when it came to Communism and the Soviets. He wasn’t keen on China either. He understood the threat of expansionism but felt it could be contained with constant pressure from the Western powers and NATO. He held the right combination of values for the time. A leader that would not rush into war unless it was absolutely necessary, but if he had to, he would fight to win.
Nuclear weapons weighed heavy on Eisenhower’s mind. He knew their power and he had read the secret reports that talked about the potential for environmental devastation on a global scale. It was a new concept and the White House staff and advisors felt they had to keep the theories under wraps so the people would not panic. There was no need to worry America. It was just a theory, after all.
Foster Dulles rode with Eisenhower but kept a low profile. There were matters that needed to be discussed and the president’s time was limited. Dulles liked getting out of the office even if the air blowing in his face was chilly. He could feel a cold coming on and that wasn’t good for a man his age. He thought he might get out at the next stop and take the train back to Washington and have a car meet him at the station to take him to the White House. The train was faster than fiddling with the airport. Eisenhower could go on and press the flesh if needed, but Foster Dulles didn’t see the point.
The last few days, as the crisis in the Middle East was heating up and the Soviets were putting down the revolt in Hungary, Eisenhower’s opponent publicly questioned his policies. It would take its toll in the election booths but even so… Eisenhower was going to win. Foster Dulles felt time was better spent dealing with the British and French rather than the American public, who loved Ike and would surely re-elect him. “Do you think we should bring up sanctions against Israel at the U.N.? They are the aggressors in the whole mess,” asked Dulles, shouting above the cheering crowd and the rumble of the car’s engine.
“I think we need to be careful,” said Eisenhower. “We cannot be seen as ganging up on the Israelis. Whatever we do to them we also need to do it to the British and the French.”
“Are you worried about the Jewish vote?”
“No. I don’t give a damn about the Jewish vote one way or the other. This is too important. I worry about the other nations that are sitting on the fence about this whole thing. I don’t want to give them a reason to take a stand on the wrong side. We need the U.N. to stay strong and united in this affair if we want peace. We cannot allow world leaders to shrink from their responsibility. It’s the only way forward in a nuclear age. The U.N. needs to grow up.”
“Mr. President, there is some concern from our Intelligence group that the Soviets might use the airfields in Syria to land troops and equipment in support of Nasser.”
“That would be unfortunate to say the least.”
“Yes, well… I think we should consider the very real possibility that this war may expand into something much bigger. We need to decide what we are going to do if the Soviets attack British and French forces.”
The president responded, “I’ve been giving that a great deal of thought. The Soviets are on the right side of this mess for once, but we cannot allow them to attack our allies without retribution. We need to make it clear that we will respond if they choose to attack Britain or France.”
“Won’t that send the wrong signal to Eden and Mollet?”
“Yes. But there is too much at stake. If anyone is going to attack our allies to stop this insanity it has to be us, not the Soviets.”
“These are strange days, Mr. President.”
“Indeed. Make sure our Ambassador in Moscow reminds Khrushchev that if he attacks any of our allies, America is prepared to throw the whole bucket at him.”
“You think that’s stop him?”
“God, I hope so.”
Washington D.C., USA
Admiral Arleigh Burke, Chief of US Naval Operations, had been summoned by Foster Dulles. He sat alone in front of the Secretary of State’s desk going over the possible scenarios that the Secretary might wish to discuss. Foster Dulles entered. Burke rose to greet him. “Thanks for coming, Admiral. I am sorry I’m running a little late. Things have been hectic to say the least,” said Foster Dulles shaking his hand.
“Of course, Mr. Secretary,” said Burke as Foster Dulles sat beside him instead of behind his desk. “How can I help?”
“The president asked me to inquire about our capability in the Mediterranean.”
“The Sixth Fleet?”
“Yes. What is its current position?”
“About a hundred miles north of Port Said currently sailing West.”
“And it’s status?”
“All vessels are fully operational. Vice Admiral Brown and his men are ready and willing to achieve all objectives the president may wish ordered.”
“What about the British and the French invasion task force?”
There was a long pause as Burke carefully chose his words. “Are you asking if the Sixth Fleet is capable of defeating the British and French fleets?”
“Hypothetically.”
“Then yes. We can do it. The Sixth Fleet is armed with the latest technology and the men are well trained on how to use it. We would be able to defeat any navy in the region, including the French and British combined. In fact, we could also defeat the navies of the Israelis, the Egyptians, the Saudis and the Syrians. We could defeat them all at the same time if need be. Do you think it may come to that?”
“I hope not, but the president must know all options at this point. He is not one to bluff.”
“No, he’s not. But are you sure fighting our allies is the smartest move?”
“No. Not at all. But neither is letting them invade a Middle Eastern country without provocation.”
“Without provocation?”
“Yeah, well… I suppose provocation is up for debate. Believe me, it’s not an easy call.”
“Have you considered all courses of action?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why don’t we join them?”
“You mean the British and the French?”
“Eden may acting in an irrational manner but he’s not wrong. Nasser will be holding the Sword of Damocles over the head of every international leader now that he controls the Suez Canal. If he doesn’t like their politics, he’ll cut off their access to the Canal and let them starve for oil. It’s not the making of a stable situation for the region… or the world for that matter. Sooner or later we are going to need to deal with that situation, so why not sooner? Get it out of the way and get on with life. The British and the French are there ready to pounce. I say let ’em. In fact I say help ’em.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because the president of the United States says so,” said Foster Dulles in a firm voice.
“Alright,” said Burke. “The United States Navy is at the president’s command. Give us our orders and we will make it happen.”
Foster Dulles calmed. He couldn’t afford to have one of the president’s commanders second guessing his decisions. “Arleigh, if we don’t show our resolve against Britain and France solving their problem with Egypt by force, what is going to prevent other nations from doing the same next time they have a dispute? The whole point of the United Nations was to stop the madness. We live in a nuclear age. We both know that the next war will likely take far more lives than all previous wars combined. Nations can’t keep fighting like they have been. If humanity is going to survive, we must find another way.”
“It’s a nice speech, Foster. But it’s not based in reality. There has always been war and there will always be war. It’s who we are. The only questions are who carries the big stick and who is willing to use it. I pray to God it’s America.”
“And I pray to God you’re wrong.”
Burke nodded. They were not going to agree. “Mr. Secretary, unless there something else I can help you with… Please inform the president his Navy stands ready to serve.”
“I will. Thank you, Admiral. I’ll keep you advised as things progress and the president makes his decision,” said Foster Dulles showing him to the door and shaking his hand. Even if they didn’t agree, they respected each other and would do anything to defend their country.
Washington D.C., USA
Admiral Burke sat as his desk mulling over what Dulles and he had discussed. It all seemed so wishy-washy. The Americans needed to choose a side – and soon. The Soviets had already chosen to side with Egypt. He couldn’t image America going against its oldest allies to side with the Soviets on anything. It felt twisted. Such were the days of the Cold War.
His secretary buzzed his phone and informed him that Vice Admiral Charles R. Brown was on the line. “Chuck, how’s your tan coming along?” said Burke over the phone.
“Probably the same as yours,” said Brown, commander of the Sixth Fleet USN. “Things have been a bit busy.”
“I can imagine.”
“Have you decided who we’re fighting yet?”
“Everyone and no one. Boss hasn’t made up his mind yet. We’re in a holding pattern.”
“It’s getting kinda crowded out here. We got more aircraft flying over than a hornet’s nest. Difficult to keep ’em all straight.”
“What about the British and French fleets?”
“We’re doing the dance. Trying not to run into each other.”
“And the Egyptians?”
“The destroyers and frigates have moved to friendly ports and are out of the fight as far as we can tell. There are still some smaller vessels puttering around but nothing we can’t handle, should they decide they want to play rough.”
“Good. You don’t take any guff off anyone.”
“Does that mean I can shoot ’em?”
“As much as I’m sure you would enjoy it, it’s probably not a good idea until the president chooses a side. But you can harass ’em a bit if anyone gets snooty.”
“Aye. Aye.”
“Take care, Chuck.”
“Always do.”
Burke hung up the phone. He liked Brown. He was an excellent seaman and a good commander. Just talking to him made Burke feels better.
THREE
London, England
It was early morning. David Attenborough, the British Broadcasting Company’s lead presenter, was asleep when the phone rang in his bedroom. On the line was William Clark, the prime minister’s Public Relations Advisor. “Sir Anthony would like to speak to the nation tonight,” said Clark.
“Tonight?” said Attenborough.
“Yes. He would like you to come to 10 Downing Street as soon as you are available to discuss the broadcast.”
“Okay. I have a broadcast in the morning. I could be there early in the afternoon.”
“That would be fine.”
“Do you have any idea what it is about?”
“Yes. But it’s best that the PM discusses it with you directly.”
“William, what am I walking into here?”
There was a long pause before Clark responded. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him like this before. He’s not well. Quiet mad I think. I’ll see you this afternoon, David.”
Clark hung up. Attenborough lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The thought of sleep was far from his mind.
Pipeline Pumping Station #5, Syria
Two troop transports led by an armored car pulled up in front of an industrial building with a large pipeline entering and exiting the structure – Pipeline Pumping Station #5. A Syrian officer and a squad of sixteen men jumped out of the vehicles and stormed into the building.
Inside the building, foreign engineers and mechanics were rounded up and escorted out of the building. A Syrian engineer knelt by a large pump and placed a pack of C-4 high explosive with a timer at its base. He activated the timer, and the Syrian troops left the building.
The bomb exploded destroying the pump, severing the feeding pipelines, igniting the oil spilling out onto the floor and setting the entire building ablaze.
London, England
Harold Macmillan, Britain’s Chancellor of the Exchequer, was sitting in his office at number 11 Downing Street, next door to the prime minister’s residence when he received word by phone of the Syrian attacks on the pipeline. He froze for a moment like a computer with a bent punch card. His mind was performing calculations. He knew instinctively that Britain was in trouble, but he always liked to do the math before coming to any conclusion. He was, after all, nothing more than a glorified accountant as the head of Britain’s Treasury. He finished his calculations. His instincts were correct.
The Syrians had destroyed three pipelines to show their support for Egypt. They had picked their targets well. One of the pipelines destroyed was Kirkuk to Tripoli. That pipeline alone was responsible for twenty per cent of Britain’s oil supply. Combined with Nasser’s blocking of the Suez with sunken ships, Britain had lost over fifty percent of its fuel supply.
Such a loss would wreak havoc on the British economy. Factories would have to close. Massive numbers of workers would be laid off. The welfare budgets would swell. Exports would drop, and with them Britain’s revenue. Inflation would skyrocket. The British pound would drop in value.
