Robert Ratcliffe - Red Hammer 1994

Reaching for the ornate silver box resting on the rosewood coffee table in front of him, the defense minister nervously removed an American-made cigarette, repeatedly tapping the end on the polished wood surface. He couldn’t stand Russian brands, and American cigarettes were becoming scarce. He was interrupted by a knock at the door. “It must be Marshal Ryzhkov,” he remarked, flicking the lighter cupped in his hands.

“Come in,” grunted the defense minister, taking a puff on the cigarette dangling from his lip. He glanced up to see two senior officers enter. The first was Marshal Ryzhkov, deputy minister of defense and commander in chief of the Strategic Rocket Forces. He didn’t recognize the second officer.

“Good afternoon, Defense Minister,” greeted Marshal Ryzhkov. “This is Colonel General Strelkov, my deputy for plans. When I received your urgent message, I felt it would be appropriate for him to accompany me.”

The defense minister nodded his approval. “Have seats.” He waited until the two were posed opposite him in overstuffed leather chairs.

“Marshal Kiselev and I just returned from a meeting of the Defense Council,” he said. “We presented various policy options prepared the last few weeks. Quite frankly, we were disappointed and shocked at how they were received.” He was frightened to reveal the entire truth.

Taking a final drag on his cigarette, the defense minister ground it into the ashtray in front of him. “I was convinced we could humiliate the Americans by bringing twenty to thirty reserve divisions to full strength in concert with a demand for total repudiation of the spaced-based laser program. We could even feint a buildup in the Crimea as a precursor to a move into Turkey. A bluff really, but the cost would be minimal, and the Americans couldn’t match our partial mobilization. Never mind that our army divisions are nowhere near combat ready.”

The defense minister leaned forward and let out a sigh. “The president has specifically directed us to develop additional plans covering a broader range of military options. That is why I called you here.”

Ryzhkov looked unconcerned, glancing casually toward Strelkov, sitting stone-faced in his chair. The defense minister took a gulp of air. Here goes, he thought.

“The president demands the formulation of an attack plan against American command and control centers and their strategic forces. A surprise nuclear attack. For further evaluation, he says.”

Ryzhkov nodded in acknowledgement. Once again, he gave no visible response. The defense minister was convinced the two officers hadn’t heard him; perhaps there was wax in their ears.

“This American laser business is dominating the agenda,” remarked Kiselev. “There is even loose talk of an American first strike once the space-based defense system is fully operational in a few years.”

“That makes no sense,” replied Ryzhkov sharply.

“Fine,” interjected the defense minister loudly. “Tell that to the Defense Council. I tried. I was crucified. So,” he said, raising his voice, “we will give them their plan. They will see the utter ridiculousness and return to their senses. My question to you, Marshal Ryzhkov, is it feasible in just four weeks?”

The marshal didn’t immediately answer. Instead he looked at Strelkov, a confident look crossing his face. Strelkov reached for his leather portfolio and removed a thin document and handed it to Ryzhkov. He gently slid it across the table in front of the defense minister.

“Your request was not totally unexpected,” remarked the marshal. “We have such a plan already.”

“What?” exclaimed the defense minster, turning to Kiselev. “Did you know about this?” His fat face turned three of shades purple. The bureaucrats were one thing, but he would not tolerate insubordination and intrigue from the general staff.

“I’m as surprised as you, Defense Minister,” Kiselev replied, holding up his hands in surrender.

“I should explain,” interjected Ryzhkov quickly. “This is not a war plan, but the result of extensive war gaming in our Plans Department. Colonel General Strelkov has been the action officer on the project. He can describe it much better than I.”

Strelkov leaned forward and positioned the document squarely in front of the defense minister then opened it to the first page. “If you will allow me, Defense Minister, I shall give an overview of the project.” A look of resignation captured the defense minister.

“Another technical brief,” he muttered under his breath. “God help me. Proceed.” It was a less than enthusiastic embrace.

“During the first START negotiations many years ago, the Strategic Rocket Forces’ Plans Department supported our team with computer analyses of different negotiating positions, both ours and the Americans. This permitted us to refine our computer models and build a database of hundreds of computer-simulation runs. Rather quickly, an obvious trend developed. With pre-START forces, the outcome of a nuclear exchange was generally independent of who launched first, or the degree of strategic warning or mobilization underta-ken by either side. Neither side could achieve decisive results.”

“You’re losing me, General, get to the point,” interrupted the defense minister. The military always talked in circles.

“In other words, before the build down, each side had such an abundance of weapons that little advantage was gained by launching a preemptive strike. A massive retaliation with surviving weapons would severely cripple the attacker. And, each side would still have sufficient weapons held in reserve for negotiation, or for threatening third parties.

“But, the force levels coming out of START I and II created a more dynamic environment. A drastic cut in the number of weapons, the shift in total force structure, and the quality of replacement systems for each leg of the triad combined to create anomalies.”

Ryzhkov frowned, sensing the defense minister’s frustration. “What the General is saying is that with little or no warning, a decisive engagement is possible. I was surprised myself, Defense Minister.”

“So,” replied the defense minister, unconvinced, rubbing his chin, “you’re stating that deterrence has actually been reduced?”

“Under certain circumstances, Defense Minister. Limited warning, even hours, negates this advantage. But absolutely no warning produces dramatic results. A window of opportunity, if you will.”

The defense minister sat attentively, painstakingly weighing the powerful conclusion. “Do you agree with this?” he asked Kiselev.

“Possibly, Defense Minister.”

“Possibly?” He was an inch from exploding. This so-called plan reeked of bullshit.

“Our war plans assume hostilities would begin with conventional forces and potentially escalate to the use of nuclear weapons. We have no plans calling for a strictly nuclear attack. To date, discussions of this nature have been nothing more than an academic exercise, useful only for understanding the interrelationships between different weapons systems.”

The defense minister loosened his tie then reached for another cigarette. Lighting it quickly, he tossed his lighter on the table. “Fine,” he said testily, easing the pressure, “tell me more.”

“Soon after the START I signing, we began serious war gaming. Within two years we had developed three proven scenarios. Satisfied, we pressed our planners to see if the attack strategies we had developed could actually be formulated into an operations plan. We were well aware of the tendency for war gamers to develop unrealistic scenarios which play well on the computer but fail miserably under the harsh light of day. It was an iterative process, forcing us to modify certain assumptions, but the basic framework remained intact. The result was an unofficial war plan, complete to the identification of specific military units, which could be implemented on short notice. Our intention was to float the plan for comment, but it ended up on the back burner.”