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worth it? Will we ever be able to gain the confidence of the West again? Even if no one lifts a finger to stop us, which I doubt, what kind of arms race will this start and where will it end?”
Without moving or changing expression, the General Secretary replied,
“It would appear that I have selected a conservative for a Foreign Minister.
You have become, over these past few months, quite a spokesman for the
“loyal’ opposition.”
The emphasis on “loyal” caused the Foreign Secretary’s face to flush with anger. “I am, and always will be, a loyal Party member. It is my duty to show you the reality of the world, even when it goes against the conventional wisdom of the rest of the pack.”
Still showing no emotion, the General Secretary continued, “No one doubts your loyalty to the Party or me. You must, however, see that the time for debate is over. We are committed. You know as well as I that it is useless to have power and not use it. Our Party and our nation depend on the continuous and measured exercise of power. The world respects, and fears, our power. No one would respect a toothless bear. The day we become too timid to use it will be the end of the Soviet Union. We will decay from within and without. Besides, the West has short memory. The securing of Eastern Europe was a matter of great concern in 1948 and an accepted fact by 1960. Afghanistan was seen as a threat to world peace in 1979 and forgotten by the time we signed the INF Treaty in 1987. No, I see great gains with little to lose.”
The Foreign Secretary did not respond. He merely turned back to the window and looked at the buildings that raced by, buildings that held fellow countrymen unaware that in a matter of minutes they would be at war again.
West of Balarn Qal’eh, Afghanistan 0425 Hours, 25 May (0100 Hours, 25 May, GMT )
The road that ran from Herat in Afghanistan to Mashhad in Iran really didn’t deserve the title of ‘road. As he lay on the sand dune, peering through his binoculars, Senior Lieutenant Mikhail Kurpov considered the road for a moment. He had seen, and traveled, many bad roads in his three years as a member of the 89th Reconnaissance Battalion. This road, however, had to be the worst. While the tracked vehicles could travel it with no problems, he wondered how well the supply trucks would be able to hold up. Everything the 89th Motorized Rifle Division would need during the operation they were about to launch would have to travel down that road. No doubt, the road would claim many a truck.
Unfortunately, the road was better than what the division would eventually have to depend upon for a supply route. Once into Iran, the 89th MRD would advance twenty kilometers to Kariz, then strike southwest for Birjand, 155 kilometers to the southwest across desert, with dirt roads and goat trails the division’s only link with the rear.
It was the job of Kurpov’s scout-car platoon to find the best goat trails and mark them for the 208th Motorized Rifle Regiment that would follow him on the division’s western axis. The other scout-car platoon of the company would do the same thing to the east, leading the 209th MRR . If at all possible, the division commander wanted to keep the division on two different axes of advance. Kurpov had his doubts as to whether they could do that. There just weren’t that many decent roads or trails.
Movement to Kurpov’s left interrupted his thoughts. He turned to watch three BMP infantry-fighting vehicles from the battalion’s BMP company creep forward up the spine of a low ridge into firing positions. Four more square, squat BMPs sat just off the road, engines idling, in a wadi. The squeaking of sprockets and tracks and the rumble of the BMPs’ engines cut through the predawn quiet. To Kurpov, the noise was enough to wake the dead.
He turned and looked at the Iranian border post again to see whether the guards had also heard the noise. The two Iranians who had been on duty for the
Without moving or changing expression, the General Secretary replied,
“It would appear that I have selected a conservative for a Foreign Minister.
You have become, over these past few months, quite a spokesman for the
“loyal’ opposition.”
The emphasis on “loyal” caused the Foreign Secretary’s face to flush with anger. “I am, and always will be, a loyal Party member. It is my duty to show you the reality of the world, even when it goes against the conventional wisdom of the rest of the pack.”
Still showing no emotion, the General Secretary continued, “No one doubts your loyalty to the Party or me. You must, however, see that the time for debate is over. We are committed. You know as well as I that it is useless to have power and not use it. Our Party and our nation depend on the continuous and measured exercise of power. The world respects, and fears, our power. No one would respect a toothless bear. The day we become too timid to use it will be the end of the Soviet Union. We will decay from within and without. Besides, the West has short memory. The securing of Eastern Europe was a matter of great concern in 1948 and an accepted fact by 1960. Afghanistan was seen as a threat to world peace in 1979 and forgotten by the time we signed the INF Treaty in 1987. No, I see great gains with little to lose.”
The Foreign Secretary did not respond. He merely turned back to the window and looked at the buildings that raced by, buildings that held fellow countrymen unaware that in a matter of minutes they would be at war again.
West of Balarn Qal’eh, Afghanistan 0425 Hours, 25 May (0100 Hours, 25 May, GMT )
The road that ran from Herat in Afghanistan to Mashhad in Iran really didn’t deserve the title of ‘road. As he lay on the sand dune, peering through his binoculars, Senior Lieutenant Mikhail Kurpov considered the road for a moment. He had seen, and traveled, many bad roads in his three years as a member of the 89th Reconnaissance Battalion. This road, however, had to be the worst. While the tracked vehicles could travel it with no problems, he wondered how well the supply trucks would be able to hold up. Everything the 89th Motorized Rifle Division would need during the operation they were about to launch would have to travel down that road. No doubt, the road would claim many a truck.
Unfortunately, the road was better than what the division would eventually have to depend upon for a supply route. Once into Iran, the 89th MRD would advance twenty kilometers to Kariz, then strike southwest for Birjand, 155 kilometers to the southwest across desert, with dirt roads and goat trails the division’s only link with the rear.
It was the job of Kurpov’s scout-car platoon to find the best goat trails and mark them for the 208th Motorized Rifle Regiment that would follow him on the division’s western axis. The other scout-car platoon of the company would do the same thing to the east, leading the 209th MRR . If at all possible, the division commander wanted to keep the division on two different axes of advance. Kurpov had his doubts as to whether they could do that. There just weren’t that many decent roads or trails.
Movement to Kurpov’s left interrupted his thoughts. He turned to watch three BMP infantry-fighting vehicles from the battalion’s BMP company creep forward up the spine of a low ridge into firing positions. Four more square, squat BMPs sat just off the road, engines idling, in a wadi. The squeaking of sprockets and tracks and the rumble of the BMPs’ engines cut through the predawn quiet. To Kurpov, the noise was enough to wake the dead.
He turned and looked at the Iranian border post again to see whether the guards had also heard the noise. The two Iranians who had been on duty for the
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