The Fall of America: Winter Ops (18 page)

“What has happened to me?”

“You took a glancing blow from a bullet. You are a very lucky man, because the round was fired at an angle or ricocheted from the pavement, and it simply gave you a slight wound.”  the doctor said as he read from a chart hanging from the end of Fedorovo's bed.

“When will I be released?”

“Master Sergeant, head wounds are very tricky and while you may look and feel fine, we have no idea yet of the damage done internally. We will run some tests this morning and then we will discuss this again.”

“Bullshit, sir. I have to see to my men. I can do as well with a bottle of vodka in my hand as I can laying here swallowing your useless pills. I am leaving.”

The doctor, a Lieutenant Colonel, knew old Sergeants well, so he replied, “If you can get dressed and walk out of here, you are free to do so.”

“Good.”  Fedorovo replied and slid his legs over the side of the bed. Standing, he suddenly was overcome with a sense of dizziness and had to sit back on the bed again. It was then his vision became blurry again.

“So, as I suspected, you cannot walk from your bed. I know you have blurred vision, you are dizzy, and your stomach may be upset.  It is all symptoms of a head injury.  Now, lay back down and rest.”

Moving slowly back into the bed, Fedorovo asked, “How did the attack go?”

Writing on Fedorovo's chart, the doctor said, “Well, not good for us. We are still counting casualties and checking the base for damage. The last numbers I had were: We had lost over 800 men and women, dead, a good dozen or more helicopters, and almost two thousand wounded.  So many were injured, we had to send the more serious cases to Jackson by convoy or helicopter.”

“And the partisans?”

“That, Sergeant, is a good question. We counted only 300 bodies and found no injured, or more likely, those discovered wounded were killed.  Colonel Ivanov ordered that all captives be executed on the spot and from what I have heard, he is one mad commander.”

“We are going about this war wrong and will never win as things are.”

“That statement could get you a room in a gulag, but I will ignore it as a result of your head injury. To challenge the government is not wise, Sergeant.”

“My Grandfather used to say, 'You attract more bees with honey than you do with vinegar.'”

“So, off the record, what in the hell has that got to do with this war?”

“Sir, we should have come into this country and tried to win the Americans to our side.  We should have brought food, medicines, and clothing to help these people.  Instead we came in issuing orders and hanging people.  When we started mass executions, or reprisals, we lost this war, because it does nothing but instill a deep determination to see us beaten by the enemy. It places hatred deep in each Americans heart for all Russians.”

The doctor laughed and once sober he said, “It was exactly that the Americans tried in the Vietnam War. They had a motto, 'Winning hearts and minds,' except it did not work.  No people want their country to fall in the hands of others, so they fight, and I agree, we will not win this conflict.”

“To quote a doctor I know, ' That statement could get you a room in a gulag.'”

The doctor grinned and then asked, “Are you in a lot of pain?  And, by the way, our conversation never happened.”

“My head hurts like hell.  With each beat of my heart, the pain throbs.”

“Nurse!”  the doctor yelled and when a young male Lieutenant appeared, he said, “I want morphine added to this patients IV, and do it now.”

“Yes, sir.  I will see to it right now.”  the Lieutenant said and then walked to the controlled substances locker.

“You will be feeling fine in just a few minutes.  Now, over the next three days, I want you to rest as much as you can and that means sleep, too.  I want no contraband vodka in this room, either, and I know how you Senior NCO's can be about booze. If at the end of three days, you can get out of bed and walk out of here, you are free to leave, deal?”

“Deal.”  Sergeant Fedorovo said.  

The nurse entered the room, injected a medication into the IV and few minutes later, the Master Sergeant was getting sleepy.  He was asleep before the doctor left his room.

“By the end of the day, Major Borisovich, I want to know how in the hell we lost over 800 dead and the partisans only lost 300!  My whole base is in tatters, with the flight line littered with burned helicopters, my fuels and oils all gone up in flames, and over 2,000 wounded!  I lost over half of my well trained and expensive air crews to what, a bunch of peasants?  I want answers, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.  My intelligent specialists suspect we were attacked by a force of well over 1,000 partisans and by hitting us at night, they had the element of surprise on their side, sir.  Sir, you must stop thinking of this resistance as a bunch of peasants because they —”

“Do what? Do not tell me how to think, Major, or I will have you shot, you arrogant bastard!  How
dare
you sit there and challenge my thinking!”

“Sir, with all due respect, I only meant the partisans are made up of many prior military members, hunters, and gun owners.  As a result, they are, in most cases, better trained than the average Russian Private, sir.”

“Horseshit!  We have the best trained army in the world, Major.  Let me tell you something and you would be smart to listen well; Our soldiers are the best in the world, the very best.  I cannot be swayed to think these . . . these . . . criminals running the streets are better trained.  Now, you had better get your thinking together, Major, and do the job quickly. I will not tolerate insubordination and if you
ever
challenge me again, you are a dead man.  Have I made myself clear, Major?”

“Yes, sir, very clear.”  The chastised Major lowered his head.

“Now, Lieutenant Colonel Vasiliev, what can you tell me about this attack and how can we avoid it in the future?”

Standing, Vasiliev replied, “We estimate over 5,000 partisans were involved in this attack, which may be an overestimation, sir, but we suspect other resistance members were brought in from Alabama, Louisiana, and Tennessee.  They must know most of our troops were gone, massed for the pending gas attack, and decided to hit us when our manpower is at it's lowest.”

“And, why do they know so much about us and we so little about them?”

“We know the names of many members of the resistance, but that is about it. Not much we can do with a list of names, sir.”

“Oh, I disagree, Colonel. There is a great deal we can do with a list of names. Right after this meeting, I want you to try and locate the families of all known resistance fighters.  I want the families arrested and brought to the gulag as hostages.  Then print posters and place them around town, threatening to relocate the families up north, after we select 50% for execution. The only way to prevent us from taking any actions is if the partisans surrender to us.  Put the typical lies on the poster about how the partisans will be treated well, fed and given new clothing. Once we have most of them locked up, we will execute them.”

“What of their families?”

“What of them?  Shoot them, too. This is war, and all of you must harden yourselves against any thoughts that are not ruthless and cold.  If a people will not bend to the will of Mother Russian, by God, we will force them to their knees.  Now, I want all of you in this room to understand, my patience is short and I am not pleased.  I will soon have Moscow on my ass and when that happens, I will be on yours.  I want results, gentlemen, or some of you will disappear.  Dismissed.”

Later, as he moved down the hallway, Major Borisovich met the eyes of Lieutenant Colonel Vasiliev and in a low voice said, “Taking hostages will not work.  During the American Civil War the North took the families hostage of all known partisans. The Yankees threatened to shoot some and all survivors would be relocated out of state.”

Stopping, Vasiliev said, “Interesting, but what happened?”

“I am not sure of all the details, but the building they were being kept in collapsed and some of the women were killed and others injured. The North never executed any of them, but not a single partisan surrendered, and when the families were sent out of state, the partisans became more aggressive and bold.  By taking their families, all the North did was strengthen the determination of the resistance.”

“Perhaps our Colonel needs to read more American history.”

“Maybe,” Borisovich grinned and then replied, “but I will damned sure never tell him. I thought he was going to go crazy and have me shot earlier.”

“He can, you know, and I suspect if we do not start producing more results he will start lining us up against a wall. I am at my wits end and not sure what can be done to produce more partisan deaths.”

“Try my job, intelligence, my friend, because it is much too difficult. The Americans do not talk well and by the time we get information, say from a torture session, it is usually too old to help us.  It is like we are chasing ghosts instead of human beings. What scares me the most is, the Colonel thinks the average resistance member is a halfwit, but the exact opposite is the truth. Most are between 25 and 35 years of age, with two years or more of university education, four years prior military training, most were hunters, and almost all are in excellent physical shape.  But, the Colonel sees them like a peasant on the Russian plains, a farmer with no education, no prior military training, and bone tired most of the time, except he is so wrong in his assessment. The resistance is a finely tuned military force, with lots of experience, and may God protect us if they ever get their hands on the gear and aircraft we have.”

“We must stop them before that is allowed to happen.  I have heard rumors that China may step in and offer the Americans supplies and aircraft.  If that happens, it is all over. I do not think the Russian people want a full size war on their hands.”

“Uh, that is more than a rumor. Just between us, our intelligence has confirmed the meddling of China, and they have their own goals with America.  Our experts suggest they want the United States to be the next communist country.”

“Communism does not work.  Hell, we tried it for years and even with millions of the opposition killed, the program failed.  It is only a matter of time before the Chinese will be forced to admit this fact.”

“Maybe, but right now, that is their goal in America.  I hope to be gone before the resistance is better armed and supplied, or it will turn extremely bloody.  I shiver to think of Americans having planes, tanks, and artillery in their hands, especially after all the murders we have committed in the name of retaliation.”

“I hope to survive the coming week.  Let us stop talking of this foolishness or someone may overhear us. We need to go to our sections and do what must be done.  If you will send all the information you have on the partisan families, my teams will round them up.”  Vasiliev said and then started walking once again.

Of the more than 2,000 confirmed names of the resistance, only 150 families could be found with valid addresses.  After locating the homes, the Russians waited, wanting to hit most of the people at the same time, so the rounding up of folks would not scare some away. Major Borisovich knew if they screwed this up, heads would roll and his would be one of the first.  It took time to organize the trucks needed and the troops to collect the people, but once ready, Senior Sergeant Yefrem and his squad were part of the rounding up detail. Captain Vladlen Vanya was the ranking officer, mainly because he spoke broken English.

The first house they visited this night didn't go well.

The home was a two story building in need of painting and Vanya walked to the door and knocked.

“Someone looked out the upstairs window, sir, so give them time to open the door. I suspect they are an old couple.”  Iona said and held his weapon in a relaxed manner.  
How much trouble can rounding up a bunch of old men and women be
, he thought.

Growing impatient, the Captain knocked again. He glanced at his watch.

Suddenly, the sound of a shotgun was heard and the blast came through the door and struck Captain Vanya in the middle of his stomach.  Part of his spine was blown out of his back, along with parts of his lungs and liver.  Blood spattered in all directions, with a long finger landing on Iona's face.  The Captain fell to the porch screeching, as his feet kicked and his fingers clawed at the wooden surface. Pulling his medical bag, Iona pulled the fatally injured officer away from the door and started to examine him.