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CHAPTER 6
Washington, DC, United States of America, Sol III
0812 EDT May 23rd, 2004 ad
The President hunched forward in his chair, watching the video from Barwhon. The scene was a large, dry open area in the towering forests and swamps. Debris was scattered across the field, bits of cloth and torn tents. Ripped packages of combat meals could be discerned in the foreground, the Mylar linings reflecting the omnipresent purple sky.
The voiceover from the reporter was u
The mistake had been trivial, a battalion being rotated out of the line, their relief missing the «handoff» by a slim margin, an unanticipated Posleen assault. Suddenly a mass of Posleen equivalent to a division was in the rear area. While the flanked line brigades of the division had struggled for existence, the Posleen had sliced through the lightly armed and undertrained rear area perso
The final casualties were still being counted. As always with the Posleen, it was the Missing In Action column that was the largest. Virtually all of them could be counted on as dead. Many would be rations for aliens, others bits and pieces lost in the ruck the Armored Combat Suits had made of the Posleen.
The ACSs, a British battalion this time, had led the rescue divisions. The suits, heavily reinforced with fire from the oncoming support, had slashed through the centaurs and relieved the survivors of the American infantry division. Then they had led the French reinforcements into their positions and hunted the Posleen into the ground.
But the losses were enormous. Most of the division was missing, which meant dead. And during the primaries, he was not in a position to take the heat from this debacle.
He flipped off the television and spun in his chair to face the secretary of defense.
«Well?» the President asked.
«It's not as if it hasn't happened before—« said the secretary, only to be cut off.
«Not in the last year. We lost heavily in the first year's fighting, but this is the first big loss anyone has had this year.»
«The Chinese just took a big hit on Irmansul, Mister President,» commented his national security advisor. The former infantry commander rubbed the side of his nose. He had made his suggestions the first week he had been with the administration. Now to see if they would take fruit.
«But not NATO forces,» the President snapped. The treaty was nearly moribund, but the term was still used to indicate the units from «First World» countries. NATO forces commanded far higher funding from the Galactics than counterparts from other areas of the world; a NATO division cost the Galactics twelve times as much as a Chinese division. «Let the Irmansul consortium get what they paid for! But we ca
«It's war, Mister President,» said the secretary, casting a sidelong glance at the NSA. «You win some and you lose some.»
«Well, I've never been a 'loser,' Robby,» the President snapped, angrily. «And I've got to wonder if that's the case with all of our commanders?»
«Do you have a problem with the chain of command, Mister President?» asked the secretary.
«I don't know,» said the President, snidely. «Do you think we have a problem? First we have all these news reports about training and discipline problems. Then we're still reeling from the arguments over whether we should defend the coastal plains or not. Then we have this. I have to wonder if we have the right people in the right jobs!»
«There are several issues currently—« the secretary started and was cut off again.
«I don't want to hear about issues!» the President snapped. «I want to hear about results! Now, do you have any suggestions?»
The secretary of defense finally understood what the President wanted. The President wanted a «policy-maker's» head. With the campaigning already started, he wanted to be distanced from the failure on Barwhon, while having the blame pi
«I think we need to consider a new command team for Ground Forces,» said the secretary, carefully.
«I think we need to consider more than that,» said the President. «I think we need to completely replace the upper command and change the command structure . . .»
The NSA hid a small smile. Fertile ground indeed.
* * *
The general gave a broad and humorless smile. It was a well-known ma
General Jim Taylor, Chief of Staff to the Ground Forces High Commander, gave a huge grin and balanced the Fairbairn combat knife he was playing with on one finger. «He ca
«CONARC,» said the other general. He gave a resigned sigh. At least his position had finally been given its correct name. He had held the position of CONARC for the past two years, ever since completing his assignment as head of the Infantry branch of the Galactic Technology Board. It had been an intensely frustrating period. Not only was his background as one of the most experienced combat commanders in the Army being squandered, he was responsible for bases that were out of his control. He was the «commander» of the base perso
«Nope,» said General Taylor. «Continental Army Command is the biggest change. There will be two 'Force' commands under the High Commander: CONARC and ExForC. Continental Army Command and Expeditionary Force Command. The commander of CONARC will have direct command and control of all combat forces in the continental United States.»
The silver-haired general Taylor had been addressing sat bolt upright in his chair and pi
«Nope,» said Taylor with a grin. «And, before you even ask. Yeah, Jack, you get to keep the position. I say that as the new High Commander,» he added with an even wider grin.
General Jack Horner sat back in his chair and a rare, real smile violated his normally serious mien. «Congratulations. Jesus, there is a God.»
Taylor shrugged and expertly threw the knife into a cork dartboard with a picture of Jar-Jar Binks pi
«Oh,» said Horner with another thin smile. «Great.»
«Yeah. He's got a point; public opinion is dead set against losing the plains completely. It would tear us apart as a country to fall back on the Appalachians and the Rockies, giving up all the major cities . . .»