Hammer of God (Kirov Series Book 14) (7 page)

“I was
expecting this,” said Churchill quietly. “In fact, I gave Air Vice Marshall
Smart there an authorization to use all necessary force to move the Iraqi army
off the plateau overlooking our base. Yet this should put the fire to our feet.
Captain Fedorov, I should be grateful to take your offer and see troops ferried
there as soon as possible.”

“I’m
sure I can get an order off within the hour, and Admiral Volsky will certainly
agree. Our Sergeant Troyak is a most capable man, but perhaps we should send
Popski along with that contingent given the language barrier.”

“Popski?”
Churchill did not know the man, but Wavell smiled, and soon explained who he
was. The General had a love for these ad hoc detachments out on special
operations like this, and now Wavell was getting fired up himself, his
reluctance to take on all these other operations burning away like the log in
the fireplace. So it was decided that Popski would go with the Scimitar
company, and join up with Troyak and his Marines in Palestine. As for the X-3
Helicopters, they would have to contact the
Argos Fire
to make the
arrangements.

“Just
how many Marines can you send us,” Churchill asked.

“One
platoon,” said Fedorov. “But it has firepower worth many times its number in
men. The same could be said for any troops off the
Argos Fire
, and the
helicopters also can have a dramatic impact.”

“Helicopters,
“said Churchill with a smile. “I should like to have a ride on one of those one
day, but military necessities have the hour.”

“There’s
one more thing,” said Wavell, handing the message off to Churchill now. “It
seems Bletchley Park is picking up a lot of chatter concerning new German troop
movements. Several more divisions have moved to the Turkish frontier, and there
appears to be a buildup of air units and troops on Rhodes.”

“I
can’t say as I like the sound of that,” said Churchill. “The Germans know full
well what a prize they may be able to take in Iraq and Syria. Rashid Ali has
already thrown in with them and is asking for German assistance. We must do all
in our power to prevent that. The Germans must not be allowed to steal a march
on us here. It’s time for bold action, gentlemen. We must strike now, or fail
to live up to the victory Captain Fedorov indicated we should rightfully have.”

“Agreed,”
said Wavell. I thought we might reach a political solution that would precede
the need to tap our already overstrained forces with a mission to Iraq, but I
see now that we must liquidate this tiresome business there quickly. Yet what
about Crete, Mister Prime Minister? And with this movement to Rhodes, what
about Cyprus?”

“Why
would they reinforce the Italians on Rhodes, General?”

“They
may have gotten wind of our earlier plans to take that island. Then again, this
could be a prelude to their planned operation against Crete, or even Cyprus.”

“Cyprus
was never attacked in the history I know,” said Fedorov.

“Glad
to hear it,” said Churchill. “Given this new plan of ours for Operation
Scimitar, Cyprus may even be more important to our immediate success than
Crete. In fact, it has better deep water ports than Crete, and from Rhodes
wouldn’t the Germans be able to put fighters over that island?”

“They
would,” said Wavell.

“And
here I’ve let it sit with no more than a token garrison all these months.”
Churchill shook his head. “I can see more in this message than I want to for
the moment,” he said with a somber tone. “The Germans are moving troops to the
Turkish frontier, and to Rhodes. Cyprus is a pearl for Turkey. It could be that
they are trying to put pressure on the Turks to submit. Heaven knows we’ve been
courting them for months now. I’ve even considered ceding them territory in
northern Syria in exchange for active cooperation with us.”

“Don’t
let De Gaulle hear of that,” said Wavell. “He’s been talking about making Syria
independent as a carrot to try and persuade them to our side and avoid having
to fight the Vichy forces there.”

“De
Gaulle will have to stay in line and leave off ceding territories he has yet to
conquer,” said Churchill.

 “We
need the Free French, sir,” Wavell cautioned.

“Indeed,
but at the moment, we need the Turks even more. Gentlemen, I think we had
better launch this operation like a bolt of lightning. Time to draw our curved
steel and settle the issue of Syria once and for all. Because if we do not act
swiftly, I fear we may lose an even greater prize—Turkey.”

Part III

Forgotten
Few

“
The tale must be told of the 'Forgotten Few',
of the Pupils, Pilots and Planes that flew…

 
Of intrepid deeds and a
lonesome stand,
to 'Hold Habbaniya' in Hostile Land.”

-- Maurice Skeet, RAF Habbaniyah

Chapter 7

The
first of the oil wars
that would end civilization in the year 2021 began soon after its discovery,
and even this early action in WWII saw both sides maneuvering to control its
supply and delivery. Sergie Kirov had already sent his army through the ‘Rostov
Gate,’ into the Caucasus, where they were now besieging the Black Sea port of
Novorossiysk, and battling to secure the oil fields at Maykop. Now the British
heard the growing dissent in Iraq and saw the rise of Rashid Ali and his Golden
Square.

Rashid Ali al-Gaylani was born in
Baghdad, of a wealthy secular family, and was active in politics as Minister of
Justice, and eventually Prime Minister in 1933. A staunch nationalist, he
resisted British efforts to make Iraq an oil protectorate, again becoming Prime
Minister in 1940, where he defied the pro-British Regent Abdul Illah, and
secretly began to negotiate with both Italy and Germany. Forced to resign, he
soon staged a coup to regain power in 1941, and again attempted to rid Iraq of
the British pestilence.

Seeking military support, his
vision was to now create a combined Islamic state that comprised both Syria and
Iraq, wiping out the artificial boundaries Britain had imposed after WWI in the
Sykes–Picot agreement. It was that declaration, which drew national boundaries
for Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Iraq without regard to ethnic, religious or
tribal loyalties, that would lead to a century of conflict in the Middle East.
After the Arab Spring in 2010 and beyond, groups like the radical Islamic
fighters of ISIS would again reach for this vision, a Grand Caliphate embracing
both Syria and Iraq. Now Rashid Ali hoped to achieve that with the support of
the Axis powers, and he thought to trade access to Syrian ports at Tartus and
Latakia as part of the deal he was brokering.

For their part, the British
Petroleum concerns near Basra had to be protected. And so even as Brigadier
Kinlan had been sent to Sultan Apache in 2020, the British already had
established bases in Iraq to protect their oil interests there, and guard the
facilities and pipelines. It was an experiment put forward by Churchill to hold
the country through the application of air power alone. The British had no
permanent forces in Iraq, except two R.A.F bases and small detachments of local
Assyrian troops to guard them. Yet now they had lost control of the long
pipelines extending from the oil fields at Kirkuk, through Syria to Tripoli and
Lebanon, and they intended to get them back.

The Anglo-Iraq war that resulted
now would not be the last time Western military forces fought for the black
gold beneath the sands of a hostile desert. One of the ancestors of a most
troublesome man was even now numbered among the conspirators—Talifah
Khairailah, the uncle of Saddam Hussein, who was then only a young four year
old boy. He and his clan would continue to bedevil the Western thirst for Iraqi
oil for decades to come.

The French had already closed the
pipelines through their territory, except for local use. Only the long line
through the Trans-Jordan, known as the ‘Haifa Line,’ was still bringing oil to
the British in Palestine. It was there, at one of the pumping stations labeled
H4, (Haifa 4) that the makings of a relief column was being assembled. It was
going to cross 300 miles of desert to the Euphrates, a Flying Column of British
Cavalry, the 1st Essex Battalion, and some Royal Air Force armored cars that
came to be known as Kingcol after its irascible, Brigadier Joe Kingstone. A
tall, stocky officer with a burly build and rough disposition, Kingstone was
the perfect man for the job. He would drive his force through relentless heat,
over barely marked desert tracks, to reach his beleaguered British comrades,
but he was about to get some very unexpected help.

The chief British base projecting
air power in the central area was at Habbaniyah, between Fallujah and Ramadi,
northwest of Baghdad. As such it was also an important air link on the route to
British India. Fedorov knew these events were happening a few months earlier
than they did in his history, as the whole war seemed slightly off its kilter.
He wanted to brief Troyak and the Marines, and let them know what they might be
facing.

“The air base is just south of
the Euphrates River,” he said, and it is overlooked by a high plateau where the
Iraqi army has taken up positions. They have a large force, at least a brigade
in strength, and artillery. The base itself is now being held by no more than
2200 men, mostly RAF service personnel, with some British troops and Assyrian
and Kurdish levees. Your mission will be to support the British garrison in
securing that base.”

“Then we will want to take out
that artillery immediately,” said Troyak.

“Agreed,” said Fedorov. “As we
will also be getting help from the
Argos Fire
, they will have three more
helicopters. The British also have aircraft, mostly obsolete, but they might
suppress those guns.”

“The helicopters should be
enough,” said Troyak. “Then we should take that plateau as soon as possible.”

“You’ll have to work with the
security detachment from
Argos Fire,
” said Fedorov with a note of
caution in his voice. They call them Argonauts, a 40 man team to augment yours,
all well armed. These are ex-British SAS and commandos from our day, so they
will know their business. But will this be a problem?”

“No problem,” said Troyak flatly
“as long as they are fighting with us, and not against us.”

“Let’s be certain we keep things
that way, Sergeant. I want no incidents here. We left the last war behind us
when we came here, and we’re fighting this one now to see that it never
happens.” He looked at all the Marines now. “Understood?”

“Aye sir.”

“Once the situation is secure, we
will arrange to move your force into the main offensive against the Vichy
French. At that point you can operate with an ad-hoc force we’re putting
together—code named Sabre Force. Brigadier Kinlan has provided three troops of
British Scimitar tanks, 24 in all. There will be trucks supplied by the
British, and even a few AFVs and light scout vehicles, so you will be mobile.
We’ll move supplies of ammo for you in the KA-40, and the food and water will
come from the Brits. I don’t need to tell you how important that helicopter is,
so keep it safe. What weapons loadout would you recommend for this mission,
Sergeant?”

“The 12.7mm Minigun on the gun
pod, the 30mm Shipunov autocannon, air-to-air defense missiles, and the 9K114
Shturm pods for some AT defense.”

“I’ll see that it is done. The
X-3 helos from the
Argos Fire
will have good weaponry as well, and that
force should be all we need to silence that artillery. After Habbaniyah, you
will join with the Argonauts, and become part of Sabre Force. One other thing…
Popski will be with you from the outset to act as liaison with the British and
serve as an interpreter. He will be regarded as your senior officer, and report
directly to me. Any questions?”

“None sir,”

“Very good then.” Fedorov smiled.
“Go secure that airbase.”

The Marines were more than ready.
After having to sit about in an old truck for nearly 48 hours in Egypt, they
were finally getting what they really lived for, a hot combat mission. Troyak
selected the weapons, adding auto-grenade launchers, two 82mm Podnos mortars,
and the deadly RPGs to the team’s inventory.
Kirov
put out to sea on the
night of March 10, 1941, moving from Alexandria to a point due east of
Jerusalem, just off the coast. They lifted off on the 11th of March, making an
in flight rendezvous with the three X-3s over the Mediterranean before heading
inland. This would cut over 400 kilometers from the distance the helos had to
fly, which was considerable. From there it was still another 875 kilometers to
Habbaniyah, and the KA-40 could only range out 1200 kilometers.

To solve that problem they
planned to make an initial ferry mission to the deserts of Jordan, where a
small base designated “Tango-1” was established near the border of Iraq, about
425 kilometers inland, or half the distance to the airfield. The helo offloaded
the first ten Marines, containers of aviation fuel, and reserve ammo before
returning to the ship to run that same mission again. Zykov pulled the lead
team duty with nine other Marines. They would wait for the main mission to land
there before heading to Habbaniyah, and in this way they would still have two
thirds of their fuel, which was more than enough to operate and still be able
to return to Tango-1 to refuel before heading west again. The mission was well
coordinated with the X-3s, which also had very long range, but they would need
to ferry in ammo and fuel for their teams as well.

* * *

The
tension that had led to
the Iraqi artillery barrage at Habbaniyah had been mounting for some time. An independent
“Mechanized” Brigade, with a light tank company, an armored car company, two
battalions of lorried infantry, a machine-gun company, and 30 towed artillery
pieces had moved to the plateau overlooking the British base some days ago. They
vastly outnumbered the British garrison, which was composed of only 300 British
regulars of the Kings Own Royal Regiment under Colonel Roberts, who had been
Chief Of Staff of the 10th Indian Division, now en-route to Iraq. His small
force had been rushed to Habbaniyah by air the previous day, flown in from
airfields near Basrah in the south. Now they joined the Number 1 Armored Car
Company, 18 old Rolls Royce armored cars and a pair of antiquated “tanks,”
which were little more than Mark VIB MG tanks the locals dubbed “Walrus” and
“Seal.” A few hundred native levees fleshed out the defense.

The British sent up a light
reconnaissance plane to have a look at what they were facing, and soon knew
that they were opposed by a force ten times their size, over 9000 men.

“They have at least twelve old
Crossley armored cars up there,” said the pilot, referring to the 6-wheeled vehicles
dating back to 1927. “And they’ll match Walrus and Seal with a fist full of
what looked to be CV-35s.” That was an old Italian tankette, also armed with
machineguns.

“What about the artillery,” said
Roberts. “That’s our real worry. We’ve only a few mortars to answer them, and
one good hit on the water tower or power station and we’re out of business
here. We’d have no choice but to give up the ghost when the good water runs
dry.”

“Let’s hope they’re just making a
show of force, sir,” said the pilot, “and it’s a good one at that!”

Air Vice Marshall Smart was
taking the report with Colonel Roberts, his eyes narrowed with the sun, skin
browned by long months in the desert beneath his white pith helmet. “We’ll simply
have to use the planes,” he said. “We’ll get every plane that will fly ready to
go and arm them with anything we can find.”

“Should we hit them now, sir?”
Roberts knew he was at great disadvantage here. He could rely on his own men,
but the loyalty of the Assyrian Levees was as yet untested. One look at the
list of guns noted by the recce pilot gave him a chill, even in the desert
heat. “Look, they have at least twelve 18 pounders, a couple of 4.5 inch
howitzers and several small 3.7s, but it’s enough to hurt us badly if they get
to it.”

Smart was senior officer on base,
and the call was his. “No,” he said after some deliberation. “Given our
situation, I don’t think it would be wise to provoke them. We’ve a message in
hand from their envoy stating this is nothing more than a training exercise.”

“Not bloody likely, sir. That’s a
big desert out there, and they came all the way from Baghdad.”

“Of course, but we can play along
for time if possible. They’ve also demanded we cease all air operations, but
I’ve told them we have training to do as well, and any attempt to interfere
with it will be treated as an act of war. Ambassador Cornwallis in Baghdad
fully supported that response. Let’s see if they have the temerity to do
anything more with those troops up there, but for the moment, we’ll keep to
Middle East Command policy and not interfere with them.”

“Very well, sir, but we may
regret our propriety here. They could be merely waiting for darkness before
launching an attack.”

“Make any prudent defensive preparation,
Colonel. If things take a turn for the worse we can still use the planes.”

“Yes sir, assuming they aren’t
all blown to hell.”

Smart gave Roberts a nod,
understanding his concern, but willing to give it time. Unfortunately, the
situation was not winding down. They received a note from Baghdad stating that
a protest had been made to the Iraqi government, and that the “maneuvers” were
been looked upon as an act of war, which would require a response if the troops
were not withdrawn. Realizing they already had the cat by the tail, the Iraqis
would not back down.

A guarded night passed, with the
men at the watch for long, sleepless hours. Thankfully, no attack came, but by
dawn Air Vice Marshall Smart was having second thoughts. He stood on the
tarmac, seeing the trainers of the 4th Service Flying Training School. With
them there were three Gladiators, thirty Hawker Audax “fighters,” seven Fairey
Gordon light bombers, a number of Hawker Harts and one Blenheim. He had
eighty-four planes, but only thirty-nine trained pilots. The rest of the nearly
1000 R.A.F. contingent were service personnel. Yet now he learned that a
squadron of Wellingtons had been moved to southern Iraq, and that they had
received authorization to launch “air strikes” from Churchill himself!

“Help is on the way,”
came
the message.
“If you have to strike, strike hard. Use all necessary force.
”

With authorization from the Prime
Minister in hand, Smart gave the order to begin operations, and the crews were
rolling out the planes, the first fitful sputter of the engines greeting the
dawn. He could get 56 planes operational, but would fly off squadrons of twelve
at a time to try and keep near continuous operations over the enemy positions.
The planes were to drop their small 20 pound bombs and strafe the enemy gun
positions in the hope of driving them off. As the first planes took off, he got
word that eight Wellingtons were on the way to add some real thunder to his
planned attack, and he took heart while the troops under Colonel Roberts sat in
their positions, continuing to sand bag and dig in.