Invasion: Alaska (34 page)

“Their biggest warships moved in and pounded Seward by cannon,” Jones was saying. “After demolishing a good part of the town, the Chinese used hovertanks and fast-assault boats. Once ashore, they drove Ramos out of Seward.”

Stan knew Brigadier Hector Ramos. In the officer’s club, the man had given him two hundred dollars toward his dad’s bail. Ramos commanded the 1st Stryker Brigade Combat Team, known as ‘the Arctic Wolves.’ They were one of few U.S. Army brigades stationed in Alaska and ready for deployment.

It seemed Ramos has rushed down to Seward with only a battalion, nearly six hundred soldiers. The battalion used the Stryker armored infantry vehicle, which came in at a little over nineteen tons. It was heavier than a Humvee and lighter than a Bradley. A Stryker had eight wheels, and depending on the model, it had various armaments. The majority of Strykers boasted an M2 Browning .50 caliber machinegun, which could be remote-controlled by an operator in the armored vehicle. Other Strykers used an Mk19 40mm belt-fed automatic grenade launcher. Ramos even had a few Strykers with 105mm guns and others with TOW2 launchers. They could move along paved roads at sixty-five mph. Each had sensors that judged various types of terrain: snow, road, gravel, etc. The vehicles automatically changed the air pressure in all eight of their tires for maximum maneuvering capability.

Stryker speed had no doubt allowed Ramos to reach Seward in time to engage the Chinese. Whether the vehicles were heavy enough to fight toe-to-toe with the invaders—that was another matter.

Jones continued speaking. “After fighting the enemy, Ramos managed to extricate half his battalion from the town and blow the fuel depots there.” Jones sighed. “It’s a disaster in Seward, but at least Ramos has some of his troops left. That’s better than what happened at Homer. Ramos is giving the Chinese a bloodier fight than anyone else has so far. It hardly matters, however, as the Chinese pour soldiers into Seward. Several companies of Militia were rushed to the brigadier, as well as the rest of the Arctic Wolves, but he’s still outnumbered at least four to one. It will likely get worse, too.”

Captain Jones used the touch-screen, aiming the laptop at Stan. “Ramos has his problems, no doubt. But the emergency for us is west along the Number One Highway.”

Jones showed Stan the State Highway One or the Sterling Highway. From Anchorage, it went through Portage and turned southwest, passing through alpine-like mountains until it flattened out around Cooper Landing. The easier, flatter country was still a cold, snowy land abounding in moose, deer and bears and some of the best fishing in the State. The Highway went from Cooper Landing to Sterling, Soldotna, and then it moved almost straight south along the west Kenai coast, hitting Ninilchik, Anchor Point and ending in Homer.

“The Chinese have already taken Homer and Anchor Point,” Jones said. “Unfortunately, we weren’t able to mine Cook Inlet that far south. After landing in and around Homer, it has taken the Chinese a few days to shake out their formations and land enough supplies. We’ve used that time to rush men and material to Ninilchik. The Chinese are using artillery and drone-launched smart bombs on us there. It’s only a matter of time before they force us out of Ninilchik and continue their advance along the highway.” Jones pointed to the immediate west of Tustumena Lake. “General Sims wants a main line of defense here.”

“That seems risky,” said Stan. “With their hovertanks and landing craft, the Chinese can probably flank the position by landing on the coast north of the defense line.”

Captain Jones looked annoyed. “First, the bore tide in Cook Inlet gets much worse the farther north one goes. Second, even as we speak our Navy is slipping more mines into the inlet, extending the minefield’s range. That should keep the Chinese from taking their big ships north of the main defense line. If they try the hovertank, assault-boat tactic without heavy ship support, our aircraft should be able to hit them with missiles. Third and finally, I don’t remember asking your opinion, Captain.”

Stan glanced at Jones. They sat on metal fold-up chairs as they studied the laptop. “Begging your pardon, sir, but one of the strengths of a Western Army is the ability to share ideas and opinions.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you ever read any of Victor David Hanson’s military books?” asked Stan.

Captain Jones stared at Stan until finally he nodded. “You’re the one they call Professor, right?”

Stan shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Well, let me tell you something,
Professor
. We’re not in the classroom. This is war. The Chinese have invaded our country and they’re rolling through it. If they reach Anchorage, it could be game over for holding Alaska. You need to snap out of your shock, come down to reality and listen to what I’m telling you.”

“I am listening, sir.”

“I don’t need any of your history lessons, do you understand?”

“I’m sure you don’t need any lessons, sir. I’m just saying that a defensive line here near the west Kenai coast looks exposed. Why not pull back to the junction here near Soldotna?” Stan pointed at the screen. “Heck, it seems like we should pull back to Cooper Landing. Let’s use the terrain in our favor and force them to funnel their attack onto our guns.”

Captain Jones used his tongue to moisten his lips. “I’ll be sure to relay your concern to General Sims. In the meantime, I’m telling you where you’re taking your tanks.”

“You want us on the main line?” asked Stan.

“If you’re chicken,
Professor
, you’d better tell me now so I can find someone to do the fighting for us.”

Several of Stan’s National Guard buddies who talked in a clump beside the nearest tank heard that. Jose Garcia, who owned his own mechanic shop, was a heavy man of Mexican descent. He was only five-seven and had trouble moving in and out of the Abrams’ hatch, but he was the best gunner in the company.

“You’d better watch your mouth, Mr. Staff Captain, sir,” Jose said loud enough for Jones to hear.

Captain Jones seemingly chose to ignore that as he kept staring at Stan. The National Guardsmen in Alaska had fallen on hard times as far as discipline and decorum went.

“I’ll fight, sir,” Stan said. “It’s just that these are about the only tanks in Alaska I know of. I’d hate to lose them right at the get go.”

“You listen to me, Captain. I’m not here to argue with you. You’re taking those Abrams and heading for the main line of defense. We don’t know everything the Chinese have, but we sure as fire know what we have, which is just about nothing modern. We’ve rushed half the 4th Airborne Brigade down there and several National Guard line companies. Some of the 16th Combat Aviation Brigade is helping. With them are some summer soldiers with their rifles to fill in the gaps.”

Stan knew that the summer soldiers were the Militiamen. They had been a political offshoot of the secessionist troubles these last ten years especially. The Debt Depression meant the Federal and State governments lacked the monies of the past. In other words, neither the Feds nor the States had the funds to raise more National Guard units or new Army or Reserve units. They kept disbanding military formations because of a lack of money. Then some bright Army officers had convinced the government to let ordinary Americans form militia companies under various state government inspections and controls. The civilians paid for their own uniforms and weapons and received training from National Guard drill instructors. This gave the states more military muscle and at almost no extra cost. It also meant the local communities had armed forces able to patrol the streets. There had been abuses, cries of militarism and outrage. But it had also allowed certain survivalist and anti-government types to march and train under the State government’s eye. They were more paramilitary than military, a local force of shock police, but they did train as squads, platoons and sometimes even as companies. The more rural and hunting States had better militia than the primarily urban States. As befitted Alaska, it had a higher ratio of Militiamen to population because the State had more hunters and fishermen per capita than any other State. It still left Alaska woefully short of military muscle and under-armed, but the Militia was there and now it was being used to help plug the advancing Chinese. One of Stan’ best friends, Pastor Bill Harris of the Rock Church, was a sergeant in the Militia.

Captain Jones took a deep breath before he kept speaking. “The President said he’s going to airlift us reinforcements, while the rest of the Alaskan National Guardsmen are forming up in Anchorage or using the train-line from Fairbanks to come here. Right now, however, your tanks are about the only thing heavy we’ll have to destroy anything cute the Chinese are landing. Our Strykers and even our Bradleys can only do so much in that regard.”

“Yes, sir,” said Stan. “I’m sorry for being so outspoken, sir. This is a desperate time and my mind keeps churning out ideas. You can bet that I’ll do my part when it comes to combat.”

“You’ve sucked off the Guard’s tit for years. Now it’s time to pay up.”

“I understand, sir. Can I ask one more question?”

The captain gave him a guarded looked. “As long as you leave out any historical references, go ahead.”

“How much air cover do we have?”

The captain heaved a sigh. “You’ve got that pegged right. We don’t have much. You load up now, race for Portage and then wait for nightfall. After that, you’re crawling with the haulers to Soldotna. We’ll give you infrared mufflers, about the only ones in the State. We know the Chinese have Commandos crawling everywhere. We’ve sent the best hunters we have after them, but….” The captain shook his head.

“Hunters, sir?” asked Stan. “Airborne hunters?”

“No, deer and bear hunters, Militiamen.” The captain snapped his laptop shut. “The Chinese have gained strategic and operational surprise. We’re doing crazy things to try to hang on until the airlift starts bringing us more soldiers. Now listen up, Professor, and don’t take this the wrong way. You use those tanks to kill Chinese vehicles, but don’t lose any of your M1A2s. That’s not an order to act cowardly—”

“You’d better watch your mouth!” Jose Garcia shouted. “That’s our captain, and he’s five times the soldier you are, baldy.”

“Jose, please,” Stan said. “We’re all under tremendous pressure. Let him do his job.”

Muttering, Jose turned away, causing several other National Guard tankers to turn with him.

“Hurt them, Captain,” said Jones. “But try to bring those tanks back.” He scowled, glanced at Jose and then turned back to Stan. “Right. Your men think you’re okay. That’s a good sign at least. I know I’ve given you contradictory statements, but we’re in a real fix. Good luck…Professor.”

Stan accepted the captain’s hand, and they shook firmly. Once he let go, Stan stood up, turned to his tankers and began to shout orders.

-11-

Invasion

TUSTUMENA LAKE, ALASKA

Reconnaissance showed the Chinese had established a firm beachhead from Homer to Ninilchik. More material poured onto the beaches as the naval brigades began to advance along the coast on the Number One Highway.

During that time, General Sims had rushed soldiers past Soldotna as they built a main line of defense beside Tustumena Lake. Everything from Anchorage had to run the gauntlet of the Number One Highway. Chinese aircraft and helicopters ran interdiction most of the way, but they refrained from using heavy bombs, likely wanting to save the highway as their main line of advance to the city.

“Well,” the airborne colonel in charge of the defense told his staff, “they’re never getting that chance.”

He commanded the heart of the Tustumena Defense, a battalion of the 4th Airborne Brigade with an attached mortar company. National Guard line companies dug in beside his boys. They had their own helicopters this time from the 16th Combat Aviation Brigade. Added to them were two Militia battalions, armed with Army ordnance.

The lake gave them a powerful defensive position. Heavy forests and rolling terrain added to that. The Chinese wanted to use the highway, so they knew the enemy line of advance.

The Battle of Tustumena Lake opened up that night in the cold. The Chinese used remote-controlled Marauder tanks, coming up the highway and probing American defenses. ATGMs rained on the light tanks, destroying several before the others pulled back.

For the next hour, the Chinese continued to probe, with infantry, with mechanized robots and once with a Commando raid. Every time the Chinese withdrew, the Americans gained confidence.

“They hit us by surprise on the beaches,” the airborne colonel told his command staff. “Now they have to fight toe-to-toe with us and they don’t know what to do.”

He couldn’t have been more wrong. During each probing attack, Chinese radio-intercept experts had been monitoring American radio traffic, attempting to pinpoint the CP, Command Post. After the fifth withdraw, the orders went out to a battery of 200mm guns four kilometers away from Tustumena Lake. Chinese gunner-techs typed the targeting data into their fire-control computers. Others loaded high explosive shells into the tubes. Each giant gun trained on the identical azimuth. Minutes later came the command for rapid fire, and the ground shook.

In three minutes, the American CP received over a hundred and fifty shells. The colonel and three-quarters of his staff died under the intense barrage. The others were too wounded and shocked to transmit any orders.