1945 (48 page)

"Oh, quite. I just thought it might be better if you did so from where you were sitting before, so that you remain part of the conversation."

Almost regretfully Betty returned to sit next to Martel. She'd always been ambitious, both for herself and her sex, but this! Couldn't she at least have had a chance to prepare by hobnobbing for a week or two with the head of General Motors, say, or the Speaker of the House?

"Very well, then," the President said by way of bringing the meeting to order. "As I said, General Marshall and I have been reviewing the entire situation, not just Oak Ridge, but our overall military posture as well, particularly as it relates to the current invasion of England. Since all of this is highly relevant to our little experiment here, let's make sure we are all working with a sufficient knowledge of particulars. Also it will give me a chance to correct myself if I've misunderstood anything."

One of Andrew Harrison's many virtues was an unself-conscious modesty most becoming to the mighty. Along with an intelligence greater than its possessor gave it credit for, it went far to explaining his assumption of the highest office in the land. The fact that the only participants who might not have a full knowledge of particulars were the meeting's three junior members had honestly not occurred to him, and if it had it would not have mattered. FDR could have done a lot worse in his search for a consensus heir.

"First, Oak Ridge," the President continued. "Bill, you of course vouch for everyone here."

"Absolutely, sir."

"Very well, then. Correct me when I go wrong. First, for our current purposes an atomic bomb may be simply understood as an explosive device with the equivalent force of five thousand bombers each carrying five thousand pounds of high explosive. More than that, it's as if all five thousand of them were delivered magically to a single point in space at a single instant in time."

"Simultaneity is always a force enhancer of course, Mr. President," Marshall commented, "but the desirability of putting all that force at a single point depends somewhat on the target."

"So I'm told," Harrison agreed. "But be that as it may, a single atomic bomb would take out most of Lower Manhattan — the financial district — or all of downtown Washington from this office to the Capitol building."

Marshall nodded. "Please go on, sir. Sorry I interrupted."

"Our plant at Oak Ridge was within a few months of producing the first such weapon. Now, that isn't going to happen."

Marshall stirred, looked uncomfortable.

"Have I got my lesson wrong, General?"

"No sir. But it may be important to note that if absolutely necessary we might be able to maintain some production from the gaseous diffusion plant. We're not certain yet."

"Yes, so
you said. But we certainly can't depend on it."

"No sir."

"So for the purposes of this conversation Oak Ridge is a write-off. We won't discuss the horrible damage, the slaughter of tens of thousands of our citizens, the poison cloud moving toward Knoxville, or anything else we now owe to Germany, but I will mention that there was a second strike, this one at Los Alamos. It too was quite successful. Several hundred scientists were murdered, most facilities destroyed. Gendemen, we have lost at least a year. Add to that another six months to get to production...."

The President took a breath. "Still it could have been worse. Thanks to the heroic defense that you two organized" — a nod to Marshall and Martel — "and to General Groves having extinguished the final blaze in the administration building, it looks like we will be able to re-create a more or less complete set of records for Project Manhattan. Without the records and the scientists you saved we would be very nearly starting from scratch.

"As for the German program ..." For a moment the President sagged, his air of smooth control and competent bonhomie slipping like a mask. "Bill?" he said to Donovan. "You stand by your earlier estimate?"

"Yes, sir. With the records they stole, twelve months to production. We can't count on more. They're ahead of us now."

"And it might be less than twelve months?"

"Only if they get lucky, sir."

"Even you may not be aware of this, Bill. I've just been informed by Winston that the Germans are moving in great force on the uranium mines in the Congo, and the British don't have much in place to hold them back. I'm told that the ore from those mines is about a hundred times richer than that available to us. Would that constitute 'luck,' Bill?"

Donovan paused. "I don't know, sir. I'll check."

"Please do. I'm shortly going to have to decide whether to divert resources from the English invasion to deal with that, and I don't know how we can do both."

Donovan nodded and made another note. "How are they doing, sir, if I may ask?"

"The bad news is that as of approximately two hours ago a German invasion force has established a bridgehead along the Firth of Forth, and is already sending out flying columns to link up with air-dropped forces that have captured various outlying supply depots and airfields. It turns out that the British have stockpiled huge supplies of both avgas and regular gasoline up there. Though Winston did not put it quite this way, the British seem to have been overly focused on the fleet assembled in the Channel, and did not drink through the ramifications of a thrust from the north. As Winston said, their attention has been focused wonderfully now."

MacArthur, who had been carefully silent so far, could not resist a murmured "My God ..."

The President looked at him. "General, I know that officially you and Admiral Halsey are 'not here' but perhaps you would share your thoughts on this development with us."

"Well," MacArthur murmured, "it's a masterstroke. If the Brits wheel to meet it, it's a feint drawing off defenses from the real threat to the southern coast. If they don't treat it seriously, it becomes a dagger plunging for their industrial heart in the Midlands. Damned if they do, damned if they don't." He shook his head in professional admiration. "It will take a very careful calculation to allocate the proper amount of force to deal with it while leaving sufficient defense for the south. Furthermore, if the Germans manage to seize those depots the British navy will thereby be evicted from the Channel." He looked at Halsey. "But that's not my department."

Halsey glanced at Marshall, shook his head ruefully. In this circumstance even he had to admit the superiority of land-based air. "With airfields so close and fuel for their planes, they can pound and pound and pound until nothing is afloat at Scapa Flow. Since there is no other tenable base on the eastern coast they have no choice but to take to the high seas. I expect they will group southwest of England, just out of range of the Luftwaffe, prepared to lunge back in for a final fight when the Germans launch their southern invasion."

MacArthur looked at Marshall, who nodded.

Tacit permission granted, he said to Halsey, "Bill? You know there is another factor to the north."

Halsey just looked at him, cocking his head a trifle, so MacArthur continued. "The German navy. It has control of the North Sea. Now the Brits have to keep it out of the Atlantic. Once in, we wouldn't be able to resupply the British until we'd chased it down and sunk it—and by the time we managed that . . . well, England would be just another occupied country. So the British have to block the northern entry—and I just don't see how they can do that
and
loiter with significant strength to the south."

Halsey remained silent. He was professional enough to have known that Scapa Flow was vital, but he'd also thought it was invulnerable, and hadn't really considered the consequences of its falling except as part of a general British collapse. "Doug, I think you're right," he said at last.

MacArthur smiled and turned to the President. "Sir, may I ask one question before turning invisible again?"

Smiling in return, the President nodded.

"Who's in charge of this northern thrust? Do they know?"

"British intel thinks Rommel."

"Ah ..." MacArthur sat back in his chair, satisfied. So it would be Rommel versus Patton. Wasn't that interesting....

Harrison gazed around at the solemn faces. "So. The bad news is the British must meet an already entrenched thrust from the north. The good news is that this time the RAF was virtually lying in wait when the Luftwaffe arrived. Despite being outnumbered two to one they have maintained a slighdy better than one-to-one kill ratio throughout the day, which is even better than it sounds, since unlike the Germans they get most of their pilots back to fly another day. They project a total of only seventy-five pilots dead, if you can believe it."

Martel nodded knowingly. At least the RAF would not be threatened with running out of pilots before running out of planes, nor forced to send up untrained teenagers in a last-ditch defense. The RAF would make a good account of itself right to the end . .. which at that rate would come in about ten days.

"Of course," Harrison continued, "the Luftwaffe can't maintain today's torrid pace for very long. After this initial surge, Winston tells me, the RAF expects to lose perhaps thirty to forty planes per day net, including newly manufactured replacements. At that rate the collapse will come in approximately thirty-five days. I do not need to explain to this group that without England our strategic situation becomes untenable."

Nods from Martel and the senior officers.

"In a nutshell, if England falls, we fall. Therefore we must arrive both in time and in sufficient force to save her. Clearly these are opposed criteria, and we must find a viable balance between them." Turning to Marshall the President said, "General Marshall, I believe it's your meeting now."

"Very well, Mr. President." Marshall leaned forward, drawing attention to himself in a way known only to generals. "First we need just a little more technology review on current operational German state-of-the art weaponry. That is, what we will face over England, and what the British are facing now." He looked at Martel. "Commander Martel, that's your specialty, I believe."

"Yes,
sir, it was. I haven't been able to keep up since leaving Germany, of course.... but I'm sure Miss McCann will correct me if any of my six-month-old projections go off track." After thinking for a moment, he added, "In fact,

I think Miss McCann is in a better position to bring us up to speed than I am."

Betty looked up from her notepad, appalled. Twice her mouth opened silendy. Then, "Gentlemen, because the Germans were beginning to ramp up for production in their latest weapons-development cycle we have not had any reason to adjust the projections that Commander Martel helped develop prior to his return to the United States. We've seen hints of some astonishing developments in aerial reconnaissance, and of course their next cycle of combat aircraft will be very formidable indeed. But neither of these subjects seems germane to the current context, and in terms of what is relevant to the coming battle, the projections with which Commander Martel is familiar remain current."

Marshall smiled. "Commander Martel, I guess you're still on the hook."

"Yes, sir. By now the Luftwaffe should have about twenty-five hundred Me-262s and approximately one thousand Gotha 229s on line. After attrition in this new Batde of Britain, they should be down to maybe one thousand 262s and six hundred Gothas. When replacements are taken into account that means our fleet, when it arrives, will face sixteen hundred 262s and eight hundred and fifty Gothas with approximately . . ." He nodded deferentially to Halsey. "Please correct me if I'm wrong on this sir, four hundred and fifty Phantoms."

Halsey nodded in affirmation.

"As for our Bearcats," Martel continued, "they're about as good as prop-driven fighters are ever going to get, and we have plenty of them. But frankly they won't even be able to take care of themselves, much less provide effective cover for the fleet against 262s and Gothas. Except when they're lining up to shoot them down, the German jets will simply ignore the Bearcats, while the Bearcats will have to position themselves to intercept incoming dive bombers and torpedo planes if the fleet is to survive. That will make them little more than meat on the table for the German fighters."

Harrison shook his head somberly as he shared a glance with McDonnell. Both men understood too well the nature of the budgetary follies that had left them in this plight. Had the Congress in its wisdom seen fit to spend the money, the Navy would now have a thousand, two thousand jets. And had Harrison been willing to expend all his political capital on the risk, he might have been able to persuade them to do so. How many, that shared glance seemed to say, would die due to their combination of indifference, sloth, lethargy, ineptitude, and the insensate desire to cling to political power?

Aloud, the President said hesitantly, "That would hardly seem to leave the fleet in a position to play a serious role in this fight, then."

Halsey stirred, but at Marshall's glance remained silent

"Not in the air war, sir," Martel confirmed. "At least not while the Luftwaffe has plenty of fields within range of it. But Admiral Halsey is much more qualified than I am to discuss that aspect of things."

Marshall shook his head decisively. "No, Commander. General MacArthur and Admiral Halsey are here strictly as observers for this part of the show. You keep on going."