A Richard Rohmer Omnibus, page 48
“That was Kuznetsov.” All knew he meant Vasili Kuznetsov, the Soviet ambassador to the United States. “I wanted to talk with him before we began this meeting. I had a couple of points to clarify about his conversation with President Hansen last night. As Comrade Gromyko knows, as soon as I learned yesterday that those fools, the Pakistanis, had agreed to let American troops enter the country, I instructed Kuznetsov to lodge a formal protest directly with the president. He saw Comrade Kuznetsov at ten o’clock.”
“Did he deliver a note, sir?” Ustinov asked.
“Yes, a note. Comrade Gromyko and I put it together. It’s short. I’ll read it to you.”
He opened the leather folder he had brought from his desk. Reading the note addressed to the president of the United States, he spoke slowly, his well-modulated, deep voice pronouncing each word carefully as was his practice:
The Soviet Union considers the agreement made between the United States and Pakistan for the movement of American military forces in strength into Pakistan as an explicit threat to the territorial integrity and the security of the Soviet Union. This threat to peace is a deliberately provocative and unjustified change in the status quo which the Soviet Union finds totally unacceptable.
Romanov looked up at the men sitting on each side of the table. “It is necessary for the Russian Bear to draw a line across which the American Eagle must neither step nor fly. In these words you will find the line.” His eyes went back to the paper as he continued to read:
If the United States implements this despicable agreement either in whole or in part it will be regarded as an act of aggression which will require a full retaliatory response from the Soviet Union.
Gromyko, his face showing no emotion, added, “In the world of diplomacy the words ‘full retaliatory response’ leave us with all our options open.”
“You mean economic . . ?” Andropov asked.
Gromyko nodded. “As well as military. Including nuclear if we have to go that far.”
Romanov agreed. “If we have to go that far, and so far as I’m concerned, we will if the American imperialists push us there.”
There was no voice of protest against that statement. Instead, the KGB head, Andropov, put a question. “Do you think the Americans understand we would be prepared to consider going nuclear?”
“We would be more than prepared, but the answer is no. They don’t understand.”
Gromyko, with his long experience in dealing with the Americans, silently nodded his agreement with the chairman’s position.
“They cannot get it through their heads that our doctrine vigorously states that while we recognize that a nuclear war, an all-out nuclear war, would be extremely destructive to both sides, its outcome would not be mutual genocide … mutual suicide. The nation best prepared for it and with a superior strategy could win and survive with a functional society. The Americans cannot understand, cannot believe, that there would be a victor in a thermonuclear world war.”
“Exactly,” Gromyko agreed. “The Americans believe in the principle of mutual deterrent and have for decades. By themselves the words ‘mutual deterrent’ imply a reciprocal attitude on our part. They imply that we wouldn’t be the first to strike and they certainly wouldn’t be the first to strike. So neither side goes nuclear because both have the capability.”
Andropov asked, “What was Hansen’s reaction to the note?”
“Evidently he was taken aback. He said that if we were concerned about his action then we should take the matter to the United Nations.”
“Nyet” Gromyko exclaimed.
“He said that we had no right to complain because we had invaded Afghanistan.”
“Not true!” Gromyko spoke again.
“I know it’s not true, Comrade Gromyko. We were invited in by the government of Afghanistan to stabilize a destabilized political and religious revolutionary situation. Hansen says that the United States too has been invited in by a country needing help, economic and military help. He claims that we and the Afghans are making incursions into Pakistan, that the Pakistanis are expecting a full-scale invasion from us.”
“What did Kuznetsov say to that?”
“He said that that was a lie. The Soviet Union has no intention of moving against Pakistan—unless it commits an act of aggression against Afghanistan.”
“That’s a good answer.”
Romanov smiled. “It’s good enough for the moment.”
The chairman decided to get to the point of the meeting. “Gentlemen, the time has come for some hard decisions. The goal of the Soviet Union is world domination by the socialist order. We must continue to conduct a resolute struggle against American imperialism and to rebuff the evil designs and subversions of the American aggressors. We have drawn the line over which they may not cross. And now it is up to us to decide what retaliatory steps and what options are open to us if the Americans do, in fact, go into Pakistan on May 7. But even before that, we must decide what steps we can take to prevent them from moving into Pakistan.
“Before I ask you to give me your ideas, I must tell you that I think that whatever preventative action we take must be strong. It must be forceful. And because we have very little economic leverage, the kind of retaliatory pressure the Americans like to use on us whenever they can …”
Marshal Kozlov snorted his first entry into the discussion. “Like an Olympic boycott.”
That brought laughter all around.
Romanov went on. “What we should look for is some sort of military or naval prophylactic action.” Looking at Kozlov and Smirnov, the chairman said, “Which is why I have invited you gentlemen to this meeting and, of course, my colleague the minister of defense.”
His left hand gently touched the sleeve of Marshal Ustinov’s uniform.
It was the brilliant General Andropov, the head of the KGB, who made the initial response to Romanov’s request for ideas. Looking more like a scholarly academic than the head of one of the world’s most respected and feared security and intelligence agencies, he said, “Comrade Chairman, the KGB has been supporting the PLO in the mounting of a most unusual operation that I think will be of interest to you. It could be an excellent smokescreen for us.”
The discussion at the end of the long green-baize conference table lasted another hour and twenty minutes. As Andropov outlined his proposal and a consensus appeared to be developing early in the meeting, Romanov realized he would need advice from the economic administration of the Politburo on two counts. The first had to do with the basic figures and statistics in the crude oil segment of the Soviet economy. All of them knew the shortages would soon become crippling. A full paper on that subject would be necessary immediately. The second was an immediate study on the ramifications for the Western world if the plan they were developing around the table was, in fact, carried out. While the others talked, he quietly sent for the man who would be responsible for the preparation of the required studies. This was Aliyev, a man only three years younger than Romanov. He had been appointed only recently to succeed Tikhonov as first deputy premier, and was responsible for economic administration and industry. Aliyev was immediately available.
When the matter was settled to the chairman’s satisfaction, he concluded the session by saying, “Gentlemen, this has been most productive. Because of the scale and consequences of the course of action we have agreed upon and are driven to by the imperialist Americans in our own defense, I feel I must have the approval of a plenary meeting of the Politburo. However, with four members of the fourteen being here present and in support …” Gromyko, Andropov, and Ustinov nodded their heads in agreement. “I think our decision will be supported.”
The plenary Politburo session that approved the Andropov Plan took place in Chairman Romanov’s office on the morning of March 20. The chairman himself had laid out the proposal in detail, using as presentation aids, photographic slides of charts from the comprehensive report that Comrade Aliyev’s staff had produced on the current, short-term and long-range shortages of domestic production of crude oil, the commodity central to the sustenance of the economies of the Soviet Union and her Eastern Bloc satellites. Aliyev’s report was also covered by Romanov in his presentation. By itself, the report was sufficient to justify in the minds of all Politburo members the drastic plan of action in the Andropov proposal. Now was the time. All of the factors at play pointed in only one direction—action immediately if a drastic shortage of crude was to be avoided.
The second report that was to be prepared by Aliyev’s people had not yet been completed. It was a new region of research that would require much more than two days to prepare. Furthermore, it would involve much supposition and speculation. However, when the Politburo meeting was informed of its nature, told that it would be presented to them in due course, and when its terms of reference were described, each man was able to conjure up in his own mind an image of the economic and cultural state of the society of the Western world that would result if the last and ultimate phase of the Andropov Plan was put into effect.
After a lengthy discussion, during which many members raised serious reservations about the wisdom of “going that far,” the persuasive chairman convinced them that the actions of the United States in entering Pakistan would, in fact, be equivalent to an act of aggression, indeed, virtually an act of war against the Mother Country. At the end of his monologue, Chairman Romanov had pounded the table saying, “Mir, mir, i yeshche raz mir; peace, peace, peace, that is all we want for our people, but the imperialist American aggressor wants war! We must be determined not to let him have it, not to let him have his war but, at the same time, we must demonstrate to him all the consequences to his nation of the war he wishes to start. We are at the point of a showdown between capitalism and communism. It is not a time to be vacillating or sentimental. On the contrary, we may be on the threshold of permanent peace through a communist victory. Remember what Lenin said about the issue between capitalism and communism: ‘Until the final issue is decided, the state of awful war will continue … sentimentality is no less a crime than cowardice in war.’ Gentlemen, I ask your support for the Andropov Plan.”
There was no need for a vote. Clearly there was a consensus among the Politburo members as they sat silent after the chairman’s urging flow of compelling rhetoric ceased.
The Andropov Plan was approved.
10
22 March 12:00 Noon
Atlantic Ocean, off Cape Town
On the morning of March 22, Splendid received a message from the Admiralty to all Royal Navy ships at sea:
Urgent nonstop investigation of source of sonar interference in all areas North and South Atlantic and Arctic Ocean resulted in discovery March 14 of the Soviet-made, seabed-stationed noise generator. The device functions on principle similar to that of active sonar making constant rather than pulsing emissions in a band of transmission frequencies covering a full spectrum of known ship machinery, propeller and cavitation noises. The sonar interference device (SONINT) has high-volume sonar-interrupting range of up to one hundred miles. It can be deployed by aircraft or ship.
First device retrieved yesterday by U.S. Navy bathysphere from ocean floor one hundred miles off Maine coast. It is an electronic transmitter equipped with power package capable of estimated one-year operation, contained in rigid pressure-resistant plastic ball, color white, approximately two feet diameter; appropriate weights attached to deliver to desired depths.
As it descends SONINT automatically deploys a ball-shaped antenna buoy six inches diameter, positioned six feet below water surface with quarter-inch plastic aerial rod appearing above surface making radar pick-up almost impossible; antenna buoy is connected to SONINT by a small diameter conductor cable which carries activating message received via satellite.
Estimate deployment of SONINTs commenced approximately nine months ago carried out by all transportation modes including Soviet fishing fleets and merchant marine vessels augmented by aircraft.
Also believe that, once activated, all SONINTs programed to produce transmissions for a set period of time thus cannot be halted by electronic counter-measures. It appears that Soviet surface and submarine fleets’ sonars are not immune to SONINT.
Intelligence opinion is that Soviet activation of SONINT this time associated with opening of Red Navy’s OKEAN operation.
The message underscored in the mind of Commander Marcus Leach the urgent need to allow NATO naval forces to operate below the Tropic of Cancer. South of that imaginary line the politicians of NATO would not go, although their naval and military commander wanted to extend their area of jurisdiction not only into the South Atlantic but around the Cape of Good Hope into the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea, thereby straddling with strong naval protection the sea lanes along which moved the crude oil and petroleum products necessary to sustain the civilization and economy of Western Europe. In those same sea lanes a substantial part of the daily oil consumption of the United States and Canada was carried. However, their political masters in Western Europe were intimidated by the presence of the ever-threatening Russians. They were dedicated to maintaining detente at all costs.
Furthermore, they did not want to prejudice the rich flow of their manufactured goods across the Iron Curtain into Eastern Bloc countries and the Soviet Union itself. Consequently, Western Europe had vacillated and continually demurred at removing from NATO the naval boundary line of the Tropic of Cancer. They were fearful of disturbing the status quo, notwithstanding the real possibility that their failure to protect their vital crude oil sources in the Middle East, and the equally important tanker transportation system, might lead to an interdiction of both.
The Royal Navy’s captains knew that NATO’s widespread sonar arrays throughout the North Atlantic were particularly heavy through the Denmark Strait, the gap between Iceland and Norway, and across the Skagerrak exit to the North Sea from the Soviet naval strongholds in the Baltic. The main fixed system was known as SOSUS. Those concentrated nets of hydrophones which were connected by seabed cable to computer and communications centers ashore, were in place for the purpose of monitoring and detecting the movement of any Soviet submarines from their major bases in the Kola Peninsula, abutting Finland and Norway high in the Arctic, and from the Baltic. The sound of any submarine—except the most silent moving at no more than one or two knots to negate any cavitation noise—would be picked up by the huge hydrophones mounted on their vast tripods standing on the seabeds of the North Atlantic even in the Newfoundland and Labrador basins.
During World War II, bombers of the Allied air forces were able to baffle the German radar by dropping clouds of tiny strips of aluminum foil which threw off the scanning enemy radar, preventing it from giving direction to their night fighters and aircraft guns. If a similar method could be found to baffle those sonars, then the Soviets would have a cover under which they could move their entire submarine fleet out into the Atlantic. The ability of NATO to discover the location and tracks of the lethal Soviet underwater fleet would be nullified. NATO’s military satellites in space could keep count of the Soviet submarines at their Baltic and other northern bases, but the whereabouts of the Red Navy’s submarine fleet at sea would be unknown.
It was, therefore, apparent to all ship commanders of the Royal Navy that should the Soviets come up with an answer to North Atlantic sonar arrays, they would have won a tremendous tactical advantage, one that would be particularly valuable during a prehostility buildup and deployment of forces in any escalating crisis.
At 1200 hours GMT on March 22, a full eleven days after the sonar interference began and two hours after Leach received the Admiralty signal, the interference stopped. It did so abruptly, just as if someone had flicked a switch.
At that moment, Splendid was still just below the surface in the Atlantic, abeam of Cape Town. The news of the rebirth of their sonar brought hoots of joy throughout the boat. Leach immediately dived his ship down into the sanctuary of the deep, warm sea over the continental shelf of Africa.
As Splendid descended, Leach reflected on the Admiralty signal and on the sonar interference capability of the Soviets. That goddamn SONINT thing wasn’t just a toy the Soviets would use in an exercise, in a month of war games. If SONINT was as effective as he knew it to be—it had almost cost him his brand new ship, let alone his life—why in hell would the Red Navy let the whole world know they had the damn thing by turning it on just so that they could use it at OKEAN? The isolated captain had little information with which to make an accurate judgment.
What he did know, however, was that the Americans and the Soviets were eyeball to eyeball over the Middle East. The Red Navy had more ships at sea than it had ever had at any one time. Sure, the Soviets were mounting OKEAN, but OKEAN wasn’t sufficient reason to trigger the use of SONINT. No, those bastards were definitely up to something. He’d bet his last pound on it.
Commander Marcus Leach was right.
11
25 March 4:00 P.M.
The White House
Washington, D.C.
Across the polished, historic desk of the Oval Office over which so many decisions had been taken and upon which so many documents had been signed, President Hansen watched the lined, pitted face and red, watery eyes of Vasili Kuznetsov, the likeable old Soviet ambassador to the United States, a man who had represented his country on the Washington scene for over two decades. He had been summoned by the president through the office of the secretary of state, John Eaton, who sat next to Kuznetsov.
Kuznetsov spoke excellent English, but with a heavy Russian accent. At this morning meeting with the new president, he was clearly unhappy that events had taken a turn for the worse between the United States and his nation. He felt responsible for maintaining good relations between the two giants of the world and took it as a personal failure that things had gone awry.
