Authors: Dale Brown
Captain Kong took his seat at the duty officer’s desk and retrieved the checklist book for the L-1 directive and for a division-level battle staff meeting. He worked swiftly and efficiently, a product of years of training and countless exercises, but his heart was jackhammering in his chest. He knew this was no exercise. Something or someone had cut off communications with the outside world, and his commander had just ordered his forces to get ready to attack.
It was what he was trained for. It was inevitable: the clash between good and evil where the world was destroyed but eventually made way for a new, peaceful world. The capitalist society to the south was corrupt, an American puppet. The Americans fostered the North-South split, fearing that a reunited Korea would
not want anything to do with them. Peaceful reunification was theoretically possible, but the Americans wanted to use their weapons and military might because that’s what their corrupt government, propped up by money-hungry military industrialists, wanted. So as long as Americans were on Korean soil, war was inevitable. It was essential to force all foreigners off the sacred peninsula so reunification under communism could take place.
The winner, then, would be the first to strike. Now Fourth Artillery Division took one more step toward making that glorious honor theirs.
Kong opened the checklist book and began making the phone calls, activating the division recall roster and setting everything in motion. A few more calls, and it would roll forward on its own momentum, like a runaway locomotive. Finally, the war would be under way—and the North would strike first and win.
MASTER CONTROL AND REPORTING CENTER,
OSAN, REPUBLIC OF KOREA
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
W
elcome, Madam Vice President, Admiral Allen, and our other distinguished guests,” the Korean Air Force officer began in excellent English. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to the Republic of Korea’s most advanced tactical air control facility on the opening day of the free world’s largest multinational air combat exercise.”
Vice President of the United States Ellen Christine Whiting bowed amidst a polite round of applause. Attending the briefing along with Vice President Whiting was Admiral William Allen, commander of U.S. Pacific Command, the officer in charge of all American military forces between North America and Australia. Accompanying them were a few aides and the chief of the Vice President’s Secret Service detail, Special Agent Corrie Law.
After walking around the facility and meeting a great number of the men and women working there, the distinguished visitors were led through the heavily guarded hallways and the massive vaultlike steel doors to the master command room itself. A thin, fit but older South Korean general officer stepped before them, bowed deeply, then began: “My name is Lieutenant General
Park Yom, and I am chief of staff of the Republic of Korea Air Force. It is my very great pleasure to welcome you and conduct this tour of our newest and best command and control facility, a technological marvel and a true sign of friendship and cooperation between our nations in the defense of the free people of the Republic of Korea.
“We are in the Master Control and Reporting Center, which is the main joint American and South Korean military air traffic control center for South Korea. All military flights over the Korean peninsula are handled from this place. In case of war, this would serve as the main command and control center for military air operations. We are sixty feet underground, protected by a total of twenty feet of reinforced concrete, one foot of steel, three inches of Kevlar armor, and over thirty feet of earth. The center can withstand all but a direct nuclear hit. It is impervious to the effects of a nearby nuclear blast, and it can filter out massive quantities of biological and chemical warfare toxins. There is enough generator power for two weeks, enough emergency battery power for seven days, and enough air, water, fuel, and food to sustain two hundred occupants for two months.”
General Park motioned to the twelve large full-color digital displays on the wall behind him, covering a four-hundred-square-foot area. “We combine data from radar sites, airborne radars, and warships into a composite image of all air traffic covering over three million cubic miles of space, including over the Yellow Sea, the Sea of Japan, the northern East China Sea, the entire Korean peninsula, and parts of Japan, China, and Russia.”
Then the guests were seated in a small auditoriumlike area behind two rows of radar controllers at their consoles. “You are seated at the battle staff area,” General
Park went on. “The senior controller and the deputy senior controller sit there, as well as assistants and communications officers. The senior controller’s position is rotated between American and Korean senior field-grade officers. On one side of the battle staff is the Tactical Control Operating Team section, which are the American Air Force officers in charge of American military flights, and on the other side is the Korean Air Combat Control Team, which is in charge of all Korean military flights.
“Behind you are the workstations for thirty staff officers, representing all the American and Korean military services, the United Nations Command, and many government and civilian defense-related agencies, who take reports from field commands and units and pass them to the senior controllers. Behind the staff area is the support staff area, including weather forecasters, security, communications technicians, and so forth. Above you is an observation room, which can be manned by myself or any other high-ranking officials and where directives can be passed down to the senior controller. We shall go up there in a moment to observe the opening battles of today’s exercises.”
Vice President Whiting nodded. A former Miss America runner-up, an attorney, a former state treasurer, and former governor of Delaware, the forty-eight-year-old mother of two was comfortable and knowledgeable in every aspect of government and public affairs—except what she thought of as the military stuff. President Martindale was the military freak. Her job was to formulate budget policies and communicate with the people, and she did both very well. Guns, bombs, and radar just confused and frustrated her. She relied on a thorough prebriefing and common sense when dealing with military men, who always thought the world revolved around them.
“Very impressive, General,” Whiting commented. “It is very similar to the military command centers in the United States, but yours is much more modern and up-to-date.”
“As the Republic of Korea has been in a state of war almost since our beginning, Madam Vice President,” General Park responded, “we keep this place and all of our control centers and reporting posts in a high state of readiness and modernization at all times. It is a heavy price we pay to maintain our freedom and sovereignty in the face of the Communist threat, but a price we gladly pay.”
“Of course,” the Vice President said. She had a way of disarming men’s hearts with a simple look or a special lilt of her voice, designed to completely captivate, deflate, or gain empathy from those she encountered. But it rarely worked with senior military officers. Empathy, like defeat, was not in their emotional or professional lexicon.
“Our twelve ground-controlled intercept officers monitor and control all military traffic throughout South Korea’s airspace,” General Park went on. “Each controller is responsible for a sector. There are seven major sectors, one through six plus the North Zone. All military aircraft flying within South Korea need a clearance from us before they can even start engines.”
“I notice that the airspace we see doesn’t extend all the way to the Demilitarized Zone,” Whiting pointed out. “There is also a blank area around Seoul itself. Why is that?”
“In addition to the air traffic sectors, there are separate Korean controllers that monitor and control all traffic within the capital airspace complex, the Korean Buffer Zone, and the Korean Tactical Zone,” General Park replied. “The Korean Tactical Zone, otherwise known as Prohibited Area 518, is the area north of the
air traffic sectors to the Military Demarcation Line, and it is the area from which Korean air defense units will respond to any border incursions first. The Buffer Zone is a five-mile-wide strip of airspace south of the Military Demarcation Line that acts like a ‘warning track’ to aircraft operating near the DMZ. The capital airspace complex is two rings, ten and five miles radius, centered on the Blue House. Warning shots will be made on unidentified aircraft that enter the outer ring, and any aircraft not cleared to enter the inner ring will be attacked without further warning and shot down. Although American forces can enter these areas, they are under the control of separate Korean-only controllers.”
General Park noted the Vice President’s troubled expression. “It is a small but significant token of our national sovereignty, Madam Vice President,” he said. “We depend on the United States for so much of our security. Both Americans and Koreans, working side by side, handle all other military air traffic and command and control functions. But as a matter of national pride, we have insisted that control of the frontier between North and South be held strictly by us. The control center is at Taegu, with auxiliary centers at Seoul and Chongju. I will be happy to show it to you at any time.”
“Forgive me if I seemed a bit concerned, General,” Whiting said apologetically. “I don’t mean to suggest that the United States must and should be involved in every facet of Korean defense. But after seeing almost everything else relating to defense in this country so ‘joint,’ it seemed unusual to see a Korean-only command center. I’m sorry to be so . . . so bigoted.”
“Not at all, madam,” Park said. Somewhat embarrassed, Whiting thought she detected a look on Park’s face that seemed to say “Yes, you are bigoted,” but she thought it best to ignore it.
“Today’s exercise will involve mostly the Republic of Korea Air Force, with a few American and Japanese air defense units participating as well,” Park went on. “Our objective is to try to blunt a sneak attack by the North as they mount a massive incursion into South Korea. The attack will commence just after dawn along the flatlands of the Han River estuary, the coastline, the Uijongbu highway, and the Munsan highway south toward the capital.
“However, this will be a feint. At the same time, a second sneak attack will be mounted by a simulated North Korean strike force in the east, traveling down the coast highway toward Kangnung. Therefore, the success of our forces will depend on discipline. They must not be distracted by the initial, obvious attack toward the capital and must remain vigilant along the entire frontier for signs of enemy invasion.
“The air attacks will take place in target complexes set up here, in Restricted Area 79 southwest of Osan, Restricted Area 124 in the Yellow Sea, and in Restricted Areas 30 and 31 northwest of Kangnung,” Park went on. “Each of these target complexes is surrounded by a military operating area and an air combat maneuvering area that are set aside to allow simulated air-to-air attacks. The South Korean bombers will have to rely on their fighter protection to clear a path for them into the ranges. Although every bomber will be able to attack a target in the range—after all, this is a training exercise—the exercise scorekeepers will determine which sorties would have actually survived the enemy air defenses and made it to their targets.
“A probability-of-damage score will be computed for each attacker, and the individual and composite scores will be presented at the mass debrief session at the end of the day. These scores will be used to determine what the scenario will be for the next day. If our
forces do well, the enemy may be forced to throw more firepower at us. If our forces do poorly, we may lose bases and equipment. Although this is just an exercise, we will make it as realistic as possible so we can get some authentic, true-to-life training out of it.”
Park pointed to one of the large digital screens with a small laser pointer. “Here are our air bases from which we will launch the air attacks in the west,” he said. “Seoul, Suwon, Chongju, and Kwangju will each launch a sizable fleet of F-16, F-4, and Hawk fighter-bombers, along with F-5 escort fighters, against the enemy forces in the west. Japan has deployed a number of its MiG-29 and F-15 fighters to Suwon and Seoul, and they will provide air cover for our bombers as well. They are far more capable than our F-5 fighters. The American forces are not participating in today’s battle.”
“May I ask why, General?” Vice President Whiting said.
“The scenario we devised is based on actual American force doctrine,” General Park said, his tone flat. “This doctrine states that American air forces may not act except to defend themselves or by direct order of the President of the United States, no matter what happens to South Korea. In this scenario, no American forces will be threatened. We assume Washington would take time, at least a day, perhaps two, to analyze and respond to the attack. So involvement of U.S. forces in the first day of the Communist offensive is never factored in.”
Whiting turned a shocked face to Admiral Allen, silently asking “Is this true?” Allen looked at his Vice President with a pained expression, then said, “I believe the decision to commit our forces would come much, much sooner than that. But the general is . . . technically correct.” He added quickly, “However, our on-scene commanders do have considerable latitude to—”
“Depending on how well his forces do, our on-scene commander may choose to commit forces from Kangnung, Taegu, Kunsan, and Ch’unch’on to the western front,” General Park interrupted, cutting off Allen’s strained effort at conciliation. “If he does, he will not be able to stop the real enemy offensive in the east. The commanders have not been apprised of this scenario—it will be a true test of their discipline, skill, and professionalism.”
“How many aircraft will you launch today, General?” Vice President Whiting asked.
“The Air Force will launch almost half of our fleet of bombers and fighters—over three hundred planes,” Park replied. “The Army will launch perhaps one-third of its helicopters, another one hundred aircraft. The Navy will launch several P-3 Orion and S-2 Tracker patrol planes and a few dozen helicopters.”