We Served the Soviet Union - A Protect and Survive Spinoff!

[Panzerfaust 150]

Защищать и выжить: мы служим Советского Союза
Zashhishhat' I Vyzhit': My Sluzhim Sovetskogo Soyuza
Protect and Survive: We Served The Soviet Union

Introduction

Being that I was 7, my memories of the Third World War are hazy, for me it was long times in a basement, with endless games of "Go Fish" and the ticking of a Geiger counter for company. As I grew up, one of our earliest games was a form of football with the skulls of the unburied dead. I regret that now, but 10 year olds can be foolish indeed.

Our parents often spoke of the Soviets as a boogyman, they'd tell us things as "Do your chores or Orgokov will get you". But as I grew older, and my interest in history grew, I began to see the Soviets for what they were, people caught in something that the leaders had lost control of. For 40 years both superpowers had somehow managed to dodge the inevitablity of war. On Feburary 17th 1984, that luck ran out.

We can argue whether or not the nuclear exchange was preordained, on whether or not the last conversation between Reagan and Orgokov could have yielded a thing. Such things are what make good fodder for people in my profession, but I began to notice something. There had been very little ink spilled as to the experiences of the fellows on the "other side of the hill". That is a disservice to all the dead of the Third World War, and to the preservation of history. Some may argue on why we need to tell their story; I would argue, why the fear in telling it?

So, I and a team of three individuals travelled the breath and width of the former Eastern Bloc for three years. We tried to speak to surviving Soviet servicemen from all services, and all ranks. Barring the close calls to life and limb, we got a lot of acess, and people willing to tell their story. We spoke to former Motor Riflemen, we spoke to MiG-23 pilots, we spoke to submariners, and we spoke to the daughter of a Marshal of the Soviet Union. It may not be a complete picture, but it is a picture none the less.

I would like to dedicate this story to three people. To my parents, who blessedly, are still with us despite the cancers that are ravaging the ranks of Third World War survivors today, and to Gregori Armatev, formerly of Orel, RSFSR, who came to our little briar patch in the cockpit of a Backfire bomber, but who's made a home here. His son was one of my research assistants during our trek, and his language skills benefited our studies and saved our lives. Gregori himself has been a very active voulenteer at the War and Survival museum here in Lincoln and knows more sometimes than some of the curators.

If there is anything I can take away from my work on this book, it is this; The Soviet Union is no more, and their survivors, like ours, simply want to get on with the buisness of living. I think we'd all gone a little too close to the brink that cold day in Feburary.

Dr. Jan Halloran
Professor
History Department
School of Humanities
University of Nebraska-Lincoln
June 9th, 2012

[JN1]

Fantastic! Good to see this started; I for one I'm looking forward to seeing some tales from 'the other side of the hill'.

[Chipperback]

I second this...

If nothing else, it shows a glimpse of Flatwater future :)

[NoOneFamous]

This looks good:)

[Panzerfaust 150]

Interview 1:
Yuri Volobriev
Major, Soviet Army (Retired, though there was no formal demobilization of Soviet forces at the end of the Third World War)
Former Commander of 18th Separate Tank Battalion, 6th Guards Separate Motor Rifle Brigade, formerly headquartered at Berlin-Karlhorst Barracks.
Age in 1984: 32

(All interview questions are in italics, this interview was conducted in English, Major Volobriev spoke very good English due to some time with the Soviet Military Mission to West Germany in the 1970s).

I want to thank you for inviting me in your home here in Stolin in the Kingdom of Rus. I understand you are from Pinsk originally?

Da, I was. At least until the 21st of February. Of course, Comrade Professor, weren’t we all from somewhere else before then? (Shakes head) “Kingdom of Rus”, such pretentious trappings the younger generations has sometimes.

Comrade?

Excuse me, it is a habit I have yet to break, my grandchild teases me about it often.

If you don’t mind, could we hear a little bit about your background?

Of course, I was born on April 6th, 1952 in Ryazan. My father was a mid-level party official, and my mother was a schoolteacher. I was a happy, but at times, willful child. It wasn’t until the Young Pioneers (Soviet youth organization) that I found a focus and a direction for that energy.

Oh?

Yes, it was when I first realized at the tender age of 10 that I wanted to have a career in the army. I was hooked on the stories the old veterans of the Great Patriotic War told us (The Soviet name for the Second World War). They left out the worst parts though. Those I found out about much later, of course. I became very active in the Young Pioneers, the Kosmonol (Soviet youth arm of the Communist Party) and DOSAAF (Soviet equivalent of JROTC). At 18, I sat for the examinations for the Kharkov Military College for Tank Officers, and I got in.

I did well in my studies there, and graduated at the tender age of 22 twelfth in my class of 250 in June 1974 as a newly minted Lieutenant of Tank Troops. Unfortunately, instead of an assignment to Germany, which is what I wanted, I got sent to Mongolia.

Mongolia? Why Mongolia?

Well, Comrade Professor, it was simple luck of the draw. They needed a platoon leader for a tank platoon with the Soviet Group of Forces in Mongolia. I was in that rathole for two years. I learned a lot as a Lieutenant there. Mostly, how one should take care of one’s self in the Army.

How so?

I learned that the Soviet Army was one shout away from a riot at times, Comrade Professor. We had all kinds of divisions amongst the ranks: Ethnic, religious, time in service. All of it kept the men at each other’s throats. The only thing preventing it was me and the other officers. We had to be harder and firmer than the men. There were fights, moonshine and drugs, equipment being stolen and sold for more moonshine. What can you expect from young men cooped up In barracks far from home in conditions better suited to livestock?

You make the Soviet Army sound like a paper tiger?

No, Comrade Professor, it wasn’t. The Soviet soldier was a hearty, hard fellow who would do anything his officers told him to do, without question. It was the fathers of these men who had taken Berlin. Sometimes, that led to problems as we would have men milling about waiting for an officer or a Starshina (Sergeant Major) to find something for them to do. Not for boredom, just simply out of “Do exactly what you are told, and no more.” It was this rote training that hurt us later when we came to face NATO. In some ways we were not the “ten foot tall Ivan” you in the West ascribed us to be.

May I ask in what ways?

Well, other then the aforementioned problems, there was also problems of design and production with our weapons. For example, on the T-62s we were issued, they had a hatch mechanism to shoot spent shells out the rear of the turret and not clutter up the floor of the turret. Nice idea in theory…sometimes however, when the shell would extract from the breech and instead of going out the turret, we’d have a spent shell casing zinging around the turret like an angry flock of bees. I lost a fine gunner that way when he had his skull split open by a spent 115mm shell casing slamming into his skull. Boy was dead before he hit the floor of the turret. The transmission lives of our tanks were such that we had to “rotate” which company’s tanks got used for training, and then left the rest of the battalion’s tanks in warehouses. We trained more on simulators or with sub-caliber devices to save money. And then there was the Stukachi. The party and KGB informers.

Don’t you mean the Political Officers?

No, Comrade Professor, I do not. Most political officers, the ones who were any damn good anyhow, did their best by the men. They got them movies, trips off post to stretch their legs (this was more common when I was in Germany) and did whatever they could for those boys. The bad ones, well, they just quoted Marx and Lenin like it was holy writ and expected we’d all just fall into line. Those men were universally despised. No, the informers were worse. We didn’t know who they were. They were almost never officers, but invariably, it was officers who were most often arrested by their actions. They’d watch for signs of disloyalty and “anti-Soviet” behavior, but did they do anything about the moonshine, the rape, or the beatings in the barracks? No.

Why not?

It served the Party’s purpose you see. If the army was divided, looking over its shoulder and too busy warring internally, then it wouldn’t turn on the Party and the KGB and give the bastards the good kicking they deserved, in hindsight. But I didn’t think any of this then. No, I still was a “New Soviet Man” and was trying to work my way out of Mongolia to a good posting with 3rd Shock Army in Germany so I could be there when we gave the “German Fascist Hyenas” a good kicking again. I finally managed to get out of Mongolia in August of 1976. Of course, I again didn’t get to go to Germany, but I got a pretty decent consolation prize, or so I thought. I was posted to the Taman Guards Division near Moscow as a newly promoted Senior Lieutenant. It was then that I learned the old adage, “be careful what you wish for”.

END PART 1

[Alex1guy]

Gorgeous, continue :D

[Hörnla]

Very good. So far, Very much in tone with what i Imagine this Timeline to develop. And really, finally, a "Red" Account.

Good luck!

[Panzerfaust 150]

Interlude
A son leaves home

New Hemmingford, Nebraska (20 mi NNW of Lincoln)
May 6th, 2009

James Armatev's palms were sweating overtime, his father had always been very touchy about talking about "times before". So much so, he'd actually raised his voice and cursed in Russian at James over it. How do I tell Dad I am going into the belly of his beast for two years? It was something his father almost never did. Gregori was more American than most Americans post-war. To him post-nuclear America was still more of a land of plenty then the old Soviet Union had ever been.

James was born in 1989, and the recovery was a hazy memory, he'd never really known the horrors of the post-attack period, or the emergency decrees. Granted, as a student of history, he dispassionatly knew they were needed, but his dad having to shoot Neo-Nazi remnants to protect himself, mom and their farm made the dispassionate facts all too real. His father still had the Winchester .30-30 over the fireplace and the Makarov close at hand, though there hadn't been any real trouble in the county in the last ten years. Old habits really do die hard I guess.

James made his way through the old farmhouse, into his father's office, which was piled high with stacks of papers, both from the book his father banged away at with the old Smith-Corona and the bills and ledgers needed to keep the farm running. A Coleman burned in the corner, well away from the papers that could turn the room into a pyre if one wasn't careful. But Gregori wasn't working on either the books, or his book tonight, he was nursing a tumbler of vodka, a wan smile on his face.

"I already know James. I speak to Dr. Halloran all the time. Did you think you could keep this from me?" Gregori's voice sounded like a cement mixer full of gravel, yet it filled the room with a betrayed mirth.

"Nyet, Father." James spoke, his voice sounding weaker than he had intended.

Gregori exhaled, and turned in his chair to face James "Then you came to tell me?"

"Da, I did"

"Alright then, then you are the lad I raised, sit. Have a vodka, you are a man now. You're leaving home."

James took the proffered drink and smiled wanly. "You're not angry, Dad?"

"No, Joseph Igoravich, I am not. You have questions. Plus, you are becoming a very capable historian. Dr Halloran is proud of you and he said you were his first choice as one of his research assistants." Gregori's face split with a beaming smile of pride, and of a bit too much Vodka.

"But why the anger whenever I asked?"

"Too soon my boy, too soon. I left a life over there. A wife, two sisters you will never know. All of that gone in a flash. And I almost did the same to a bunch of people who became my neighbors. You know your mother lived 6 miles from the rail yard. She would have been killed most certainly."

"Then I have your blessing-?"

"Yes, and I will tan your hide if you do not go. I have some things for you."

He handed James a letter and a parcel. "Leave the letter as close as you can get to Orel. It's for my Svetlana, and our two girls, Laika and Katarina. Don't read it. It's for them. The other? It's some photos and my diary from the old days. It's last entry is after the trial. Read it before you go. Perhaps it will explain some things..Why I don't talk about it."

James gulped and fought back tears, "Dad, you want to give your story for the book?"

"Yes, but later, now, I drink with my son, who is now a man. Later we'll smash the glasses and visit your mother's grave out back. She would be so proud of you. Just promise me something?"

"Anything Dad."

"No stupid risks, you listen to Dr J. You're still my son, and though you are a man, I worry. You'll understand that when you have kids of your own. Perhaps, if we had loved our kids more, your world would be a paradise, instead of this scarred one we have..."

James nodded, and sipped his vodka.

[SergeantHeretic]

WOW, this is GOOD!

PF this is powerfull stuff right here. well done.

[Chipperback]

I really like this story...:)

[SergeantHeretic]

I really like this story...:)
I know, good innit?

[JN1]

Fantastic stuff, keep it coming.

[NoOneFamous]

Love this story, keep it up!!!

[Otis R. Needleman]

Outstanding. I'm in.

[SergeantHeretic]

(Joanne holds a gun to her own temple and pulls roughly on her own blouse) "Alright, give us another update or the lesbian in the Army Jacket GETS IT!"

"Hold it, men, she's not bluffing"

"Do what she says, she just crazy enough to DO IT!"

[Panzerfaust 150]

It'll be late tonight folks, going to have fun storming the castle! IN MINIATURE!!!

[SergeantHeretic]

It'll be late tonight folks, going to have fun storming the castle! IN MINIATURE!!!
"Have fun storming the castle."

(You think they'll make it?)

(It would take a miricle)

"Goodbyeeeeeee."

[arsemonkee]

Maybe include a mention to Moscow metro system as it can be used as nuclear bomb shelter. The name of the section is the Arbatsko–Pokrovskaya Line which has some deep sections.

[Panzerfaust 150]

AM,
I would love to use in my story, except for the fact that there was anywhere from 100-300 GZs in the Moscow area alone according to Last Flight of XM594. So, even if the shelters are intact, I think the folks in them are basically entombed.

[SergeantHeretic]

AM,
I would love to use in my story, except for the fact that there was anywhere from 100-300 GZs in the Moscow area alone according to Last Flight of XM594. So, even if the shelters are intact, I think the folks in them are basically entombed.
Yeah, they're buiried alive, then after enough time, they're just buried.

[JN1]

Does mean that the Soviet authorities would not need to deal with lots of dead bodies post-strike. I imagine a self burying population appealed a great deal to them. ;)

[Petike]

Oh... my... God... :eek: Awesome, good luck with it ! :D This is about Soviet soldiers that ended up on the opposite side of the world, right ?


One minor quibble : A Russian Gregory would more probably be Grigori / Grigoriy.

[Macragge1]

I really wish I had something more to offer other than this looks fascinating and I'm avidly awaiting further updates.

[Petike]

Project page established :
http://wiki.alternatehistory.com/doku.php/timelines/we_served_the_soviet_union

[Dunois]

Amazing stuff so far, keep it coming! :D

[Pellegrino Shots]

Very interesting, keep it coming!

[Panzerfaust 150]

Sorry abt lack of updates. Had some family issues to handle. Will update this week.

[Panzerfaust 150]

Oh... my... God... :eek: Awesome, good luck with it ! :D This is about Soviet soldiers that ended up on the opposite side of the world, right ?


One minor quibble : A Russian Gregory would more probably be Grigori / Grigoriy.

It's not just them, it's more Soviet veterans who made it home, and that would be in something of the minority, just like NATO or NSWP veterans. Lemme give you a hint where I am going with this guy. 6th Guards Motor Rifle Brigade was posted in the Karlhorst barracks of Berlin. I'm assuming, of the members of forces engaged in West Germany (not SAC/Bomber Command/Long Range Aviation/SRF types) on 21 FEB, maybe 20% survived the fighting, and maybe 40-50% of that is still alive today due to massive cancer risk.

[SergeantHeretic]

It's not just them, it's more Soviet veterans who made it home, and that would be in something of the minority, just like NATO or NSWP veterans. I'm assuming, of the members of forces engaged in West Germany (not SAC/Bomber Command/Long Range Aviation/SRF types) on 21 FEB, maybe 20% survived the fighting, and maybe 40-50% of that is still alive today due to massive cancer risk.
So ballpark figure maybe ten percent of the forward forces deployed to Europe survived and made it home.

Dudicus that us just ugly.

Very believable and I totally buy it, but still YEESHE

[Hörnla]

You created a very interesting Charakter who, like Many of His Generation, would Not have been Born in the happy World of OTL.

Same As with me and WW2.

[Panzerfaust 150]

So ballpark figure maybe ten percent of the forward forces deployed to Europe survived and made it home.

Dudicus that us just ugly.

Very believable and I totally buy it, but still YEESHE


Well, consider in some ways, Soviet NBC protection was actually WORSE than anything NATO had. The suits were not permeable at all, so heat related injuries were more likely, exposed hoses and filters made damage more likely, and the infamous "anti-radiation pills" in the rations that were at best, Potassium Iodide, at worst? A placebo or anti-nausea meds.

Though with this many warheads, being on a battlefield itself is going to guarentee a measure of exposure, no matter how good the protection.

[SergeantHeretic]

You created a very interesting Charakter who, like Many of His Generation, would Not have been Born in the happy World of OTL.

Same As with me and WW2.

That's what I was thinking.

I found it to be a very engaging and compelling set of charecters presented well and in a world I found very easy to believe.

[SergeantHeretic]

Well, consider in some ways, Soviet NBC protection was actually WORSE than anything NATO had. The suits were not permeable at all, so heat related injuries were more likely, exposed hoses and filters made damage more likely, and the infamous "anti-radiation pills" in the rations that were at best, Potassium Iodide, at worst? A placebo or anti-nausea meds.

Though with this many warheads, being on a battlefield itself is going to guarentee a measure of exposure, no matter how good the protection.
I was actually thinking of AMERICAN forces in Europe, but yes, you're o nthe money about that as well.

[Archangel]

Subscribed, Panzerfaust!:)

[Pellegrino Shots]

Great Start!

[SergeantHeretic]

Great Start!
He needs to write MOAR!

[Panzerfaust 150]

In what sense did you mean, “be careful what you wish for?”

Ah, the Taman Guards. The nicest thing NATO ever did for the Soviet Army was vaporize them and their barracks on the 21st.The Taman Guards were a show outfit, a Potemkin village, they spent six months of the year preparing for the parade in Red Square and the other six months training with the MVD (Interior Ministry) to crush any coups or civil disorder in Moscow. In short, I was with a bunch of fops and bully boys. And worse, they had assigned me the worst tank platoon of the worst tank company in the division. Oh, they could march alright and their equipment was sparkling! But they could not do it to the standards of the division. Oh, any other Soviet division, these men would have been considered exemplary soldiers. I had few discipline problems, and most of the men were eager to do what was asked of them, but the fact was? They were performers more than they were soldiers. When we went to the rifle range once, I remember a motor rifleman asking me how to clear a jam with his rifle. This was a supposedly trained man! It had been so long since the division had trained on practical training skills…Oh, these men could march, and yes, swing riot batons, but the basic skills of the soldier had been neglected. And worse? The constant berating by the company commander of his entire company in morning formation had shot the confidence of many men to hell. They wanted to be good soldiers, but even good soldiers in the Taman Guards were not considered good enough. Such was the pressure that men snapped; I had one of my men hang himself in the barracks. I filed a report with higher commanders, and the entire matter was quashed. It had me at a low state. I had to get out of this mess before my own career suffered; many of these boys were thankfully, only here two years. The thought of home got many through.

It was such, that by October of 1977, I had had enough. I called my father, and asked him if he could please get me orders to Germany. I did not ask him any favors such as this, before or since, but the culture of the officer’s mess was just oppressive. I had joined the Soviet Army, not the army of the Czars! Sure, I was trading in on my father’s influence, but it had to be done.

So what happened, did your father secure you another posting?

(Volobriev smiles) Yes, he did, and an unusual one at that. Someone at the assignments section in Moscow remembered I’d done well in my English classes. And there was an opening with the Soviet Military Liaison Mission in West Germany.

Excuse me, did you say West Germany?

Yes Comrade Professor, I most certainly did. The Allied Military Liaison Missions were a throwback to the end of the Second World War. They were there as observer missions to reassure the other side that neither side was planning any kind of surprise attack. We and our Western counterparts in East Germany were there to make sure of it by observing the other side’s armies. Sadly, as subsequent events bear out, that mission failed. It was purely on that basis I was assigned as a new member of the mission in January of 1978. I had no intelligence training at all. Nevertheless, I had the time of my life. We were a close knit bunch. Most of us were young officers, most with better education and English skills than me, but I soon realized I had the mind to keep up with them. We functioned in two man teams, driving around in marked, olive drab cars following around NATO exercises, and playing hare and hound with the various NATO military police units as well as their intelligence services. Neither side played for “keeps” as you would not put it, in the West, even if our mission was deadly serious, I will say that most of the NATO soldiers I met were of good humor about it. Half the time, I was used as a distraction, taking pictures with various NATO soldiers while the officer with intelligence training wrote down bumper numbers, or tried to get photos of new NATO equipment. But god it was fun! Our commander, Colonel Andriev, was a jovial man for a GRU with Spetsnaz training. Oh, I am sure he had some very serious concerns, but his standing orders were, “Don’t risk your lives, drive safely, obey all traffic laws, cooperate with the NATO military and civil authorities when they catch you, and be nice. Remember, you represent the Soviet army.” It was a shame he was killed in Afghanistan in 1982. He was a father figure to each and every one of us. Sadly, our side did not treat the NATO MLMs as well.

What were these missions like?

As I said, a lot of fun. There were rules to what we did, and both sides knew them, we were not to be harmed or threatened. We had free run of “unrestricted areas” which were pretty much anywhere NATO said wasn’t. But, we tended to ignore such restrictions, and at times, this was at our peril. The cars we were issued were these Volga sedans brought in because the GRU (Soviet Military Intelligence) was concerned anything we bought locally would be bugged by NATO intelligence agencies. I can say with authority that those damn cars taught me about how to fix an automobile than working on my tank ever did. Damn cars broke down enough. Then there was the games the NATO truck drivers used to play with us…they would see us and our license plates, and realizes very quickly who we were. So, they’d try to either box us in, or stop short and let us rear-end them, and then bill the mission for damages. Oh I am sure we did it too. But god it was fun, and though various NATO intelligence people dogged us on our days off, we got to do things like take in the cinema, and maybe try our luck with the local girls. Can’t say any of us really succeeded. Probably just as well, I bet most of those girls worked for the BND or MI-6 (West German and British intelligence respectively). I can’t disparage the British too much really.

Why not?

They were nice enough to give us a place to live in one of their barracks complexes in Bunde. It was in a married housing block, and thus, we ran into a lot of British officers’ families with them taking their families out on the weekend, pushing the prams or taking their little ones by the hand. I realized during those years just how dangerous war really could be. And, I also realized that the people I used to call the “German Fascist Hyenas” were anything but. It’s a damn shame what ended up happening. I naturally kept such opinions to myself. Expressing them openly would be dangerous. In any event, my tour ended in January of 1979. They never liked to keep any of us with a mission for more than a year. Can’t have anyone getting ideas, don’t you know?

What came next?

A short posting as an instructor at Kharkov. I enjoyed that, I found I was good at teaching young officers, and I had a good class, for as long as I had it.

What happened?

In December 1979, I was reassigned to the 5th Guards Motor Rifle Division. They had been chosen as part of the initial invasion force for Afghanistan. The fighting during the invasion, as well as the year I was there didn’t resemble the later years before the exchange. There were no guerillas as such. Just occasional mutinies by the DRA (Army of the Pro-Soviet Afghani government, it was often unreliable and detested by the Soviets) or tribal armies of the local warlords. I remember one of those fools actually tried to charge a Soviet tank battalion on horseback. I guess the locals didn’t read up on what happened when the Poles tried that to the Germans?

I presume it was a slaughter?

Yes, not even remotely a fair fight. By now, I had made Captain, and I was commanding a Company of tanks. Still T-62s, only now in real combat conditions. We did alright, considering. The main reason we thanked god (even if the Commissars frowned on it) was because these tribal armies had never heard of anti-tank weapons with the exception of RPGs. I think in that sense, we were very lucky. They had more RPGs than people in many cases. Happily, for all the tales of Afghani marksmanship, I am glad it was little more than a scary nuisance. The main problem we had early on was disease and poor nutrition for operating in such a remote place. I had 5 Hepatitis cases in my company alone. To say such numbers are small is to forget something; there was 52 men in my company and 10 of them had to be evacuated home due to the fact they’d gotten sick somehow or another, and this was in the first two weeks of our arrival.

What next then?

I rotated out of Afghanistan in December 1980. I had sat for and passed the Frunze Academy examinations and had orders for Moscow. It was on the train from Tashkent north that I met my wife. She was a seamstress, who was just starting out, and here I was, trying and failing to play the confident Army officer to sweep her off her feet. I must have done something proper and correct, because I married her in March 1981 and we had almost three great years together. She was killed in the exchange, along with our two children. Sacha was two. Alexander wasn’t a year old in 1984. They all died when NATO nuked the Karlhorst barracks. I was at Frunze for three years, and my time at the MLM helped, as I managed to graduate the lofty goal of second in my class. I probably would have made Major then, but I didn’t quite have what you Americans call “time in grade”.

I know I keep saying this, but what came next?

My new family and I left Frunze in January 1984, where I had been temporarily attached to the staff of the school as basically a glorified adjutant to assume a new posting as a company commander with the 6th Guards Motor Rifle Brigade in Berlin. With the proverbial storm clouds that were forming, it did not take a particularly smart man to know East-West tensions at an all-time high, and getting worse by the day. Considering what came next, It seemed the past had become prologue. I arrived to my new company just in time to find out the Brigade was on alert.

END PART TWO

[SergeantHeretic]

Panzerfaust, that was a breathtaking fresh break and a wonderful humanisation of your charecters. It really brings home the fact that neither side was composed of cardboard cutout saturday morning cartoon villains. The cold war was NOT "G.I.Joe vs Cobra". it was a clash of ideologies and economies and if it had gone hot it would have been an unexpressable tragedy. thank you, great stuff.

[Hörnla]

So ballpark figure maybe ten percent of the forward forces deployed to Europe survived and made it home.


Considering the extremely intense fighting with simply an indecent amount of Firepower on both sides, the Long fronts... The casualty-Liste Must have been very Long älready up to the Exchange.

BTW, Panzerfaust... A Great update.

[SergeantHeretic]

Considering the extremely intense fighting with simply an indecent amount of Firepower on both sides, the Long fronts... The casualty-Liste Must have been very Long älready up to the Exchange.

BTW, Panzerfaust... A Great update.
That's what I based my guesstimate on.

[modelcitizen]

I like reading this.

I have subscribed.

If I go away from this thread for a while, it's so that updates can accumulate and I can then read them all in big fat serving. :)

[The Alternate Finn]

Awesome, subscribed!

Just a really minor nitpicking thingie:

the Young Pioneers, the Kosmonol (Soviet youth arm of the Communist Party)

= Komsomol

[DrakonFin]

Subscribed.

[Scottyboyswa]

Subscribed! I'm looking forward to more!:D

[MrChief]

Looking good another P&S subscription for me

[Panzerfaust 150]

Like many in the DC area, I lost power over the weekend, so I couldn't do a update if I WANTED to. And to make matters even more fun, the board maintinance, though a needed thing, kinda crimped it even further. So I shall endeavour to get something out this weekend!

[JN1]

The Soviets were a lot harder on the Allied Military Missions - they shot at them, beat them up and tried to ram their vehicles. In the '80s an officer in the USMLM was shot and killed and a French Warrant Officer killed in a traffic accident. From what I've read our mission, BRIXMIS, was very lucky not to lose anyone.

The story of the Allied Military Missions is certainly one worth reading about.

[Otis R. Needleman]

The Soviets were a lot harder on the Allied Military Missions - they shot at them, beat them up and tried to ram their vehicles. In the '80s an officer in the USMLM was shot and killed and a French Warrant Officer killed in a traffic accident. From what I've read our mission, BRIXMIS, was very lucky not to lose anyone.

The story of the Allied Military Missions is certainly one worth reading about.


One of the buildings at the Defense Language Institute is named after the US Army officer, Major Nicholson. That's the last building I worked in on active duty.

[Panzerfaust 150]

UPDATE:
I have not abandoned this...I am just moving into new digs and yep, it's been crazy. Lots of good happening lately. So don't panic, there will be an update before the month is out.

[juanml82]

Subscribed!

[bplotkin]

In the Soviet Union thread updates you! :)

Seriously though, this is great stuff, looking forward to more.

[Pavlovs_Cat]

Подписан товарищ

[Panzerfaust 150]

So what did the alert mean for you?

It was a mixture of things really, this was right after the regrettable incident involving some idiot sending some of our motor riflemen to go back up the East German security forces who were putting down riots in East Berlin. Well, most of our young conscripts had never a) been out of barracks except on supervised trips before and b) didn't speak a lick of German and c) were downright terrified.

Well, the result there was predictable. A young conscript lost his head, and began firing. Before long, his whole damn company opened fire into the crowd. It says a lot for the marksmanship of the average Soviet soldier that not only were members of the crowd hit, but members of the East German police and some of their Stasi Wachtbattalion men. It was a damned mess. Hell, I think some West Germans got hit too. Our own officers had a hell of a time restoring order, and I am ashamed to say they shot some of those boys to do it.

I arrived to become the deputy battalion commander for the tank battalion two days after the event. Our orders mostly restricted us to barracks, with orders to "keep the men out of trouble, and don't give the imperialists any provocations." Yeah, we must not provoke NATO, but the old men in the Kremlin can shake the damned sabre as much as they liked. Fucking chekists!

Are you alright, Major?

Yes, I apologize Comrade Professor, those fools in the Kremlin. They deluded themselves with the idea NATO, especially the Americans were drug sodden pampered pushovers who would not fight the Soviet Army. That was a foolish mistake. A mistake that killed millions ultimately.

So, what occurred next?

On or about the 12th of February, we were taken by train to a exercise area. Which one, I do not know as even we were not told. The train's windows were blacked out and we had armed soldiers of the Commandant's service posted between cars. We met up with equipment that was slightly older than ours (T-64 tanks and BMP-1s) and for three days, we exercised with copious amounts of live ammunition. I hadn't seen this much live ammunition since Afghanistan, and I even remarked to my battalion commander about it. He told me "not to worry about it". There was also the increasing venom in the lectures of the political officers about the "fascist German hyenas" and their "American mercenaries". I knew then, the decision had been made for war.

How did that make you feel?

Sad, angry, and a bit resigned and relieved. I was sad and angry because I knew our mission was to help the East Germans take West Berlin. I knew how that was going to end up. Urban combat never goes well for either side, especially for the attacker. I was resigned, because, well, it was that typical Russian fatalism. We know it's going to happen no matter what we do, so why the hell worry about it. See about trying to survive it. As for the relief part? Well, we'd wondered who was better for 40 years. Now, we'd find out, eh?

Sounds a bit bloodthirsty, considering what came next?

Yes, but I was a foolish man then, we all were. When word got around that the command would finally be "на западе" (to the West), some people cried, some prayed..actually, a lot did, but some pulled out bootleg vodka and began to sing songs about being in Calais in ten days. Yes, Comrade Professor, we were very foolish men. After we got the word, we slunk back into our barracks and did our best to prepare unobtrusively for war. I doubt the west missed it.

How so?

The west had their own military missions, and even though we went with a warplan that pretty much had us attacking from a standing start (which led to all KINDS of problems), we did catch NATO by some measure of surprise. Or, at least that's what we had hoped for. As it turned out? We didn't. NATO's Berlin garrison had been on alert since the 15th. They were waiting for us.

How bad was it?

Bad, very bad, Comrade Professor. By the time I traded my battalion's tanks for those German trucks for the trek across Poland? There was barely 7 tanks and 20 men left. And this was after 5 days of fighting.

END PART THREE

[Archangel]

Keep it up, Panzerfaus!:)

[Petike]

Bumping this mofo. :D

Panzerfaust, where art thou ? I hope you write one or two more updates before the end of the year. :)

[omega21]

^ what he said!

[DrakonFin]

Seconding the above posters.

I would be ready and willing to consider a crossover episode with my TL, too, if that suits Panzerfaust's plans. I have something in store for the Soviet soldiers left in Finland anyway.;)

[Zireael]

Love the timeline, subscribed!

[Panzerfaust 150]

I'm here. In RL I work for a PAC (No, I won't say which one), but as it's getting near election time, it's getting busy. I do promise another update which will cover the conventional war up to the 21st.

[Petike]

Bumping this and hope you get back to it, Panzerfaust. ;)

[Archangel]

Bumping this and hope you get back to it, Panzerfaust. ;)
Seconded!:)

[Panzerfaust 150]

I am going to begin work on it again, but to be honest, wasn't nuts about everything EAST of Munich being dead. Kinda hurt the ability to write this thing....but I will just continue and try to make a story out of it...in the meanwhile, I am working on a AU Daria story set in the world of "The Third World War: August 1985" entitled "Night Witches"

It's up on Fanfiction.net and Matt Wiser's been a real help with it!

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9025740/1/Night-Witches

Give it a read, and yes folks, I am always looking to improve the story/reality of it.

[Panzerfaust 150]

But since I don't want you all to feel screwed!

So what was the first day like?

(snorts a derisive laugh) Everything that could go wrong, did. Our jump off time was delayed three times in the space of an hour, the East German engineers damn near blew up one of my tanks while they blew a lane in the [Berlin] Wall and the mines for us to move through...and then there was the enemy...

How so?

As I said earlier, they knew we were coming. Not when, of course, but they knew. And the delays didn't help, of course. They had the lanes we blew in the Wall pre-sighted...and the first BMP through the wall got hit by at least 2 or maybe 3 ATGM, who knew. Damn thing just vaporized. We reacted, of course, opened fire on every place that MIGHT have an ATGM post. But it really didn't matter. The damn NATO bastards had left, and I had three letters to post...

What happened then?

It was your typical experience of fighting in a city with armor. Nasty, brutal and close range. Protection counted for little, and the NATO defenders proved as brave as we were. They showed little hesitation of closing with armored vehicles, and even the West Berlin "police" (some police they were) had well rehearsed ambush plans. I'd lose a platoon of tanks in just about every engagement. When you only have 30 to start with? It gets expensive. Worse, I have the goddamned idiot East Germans demanding to know why I wasn't moving quickly enough to get to the American Kaserne and Brigade demanding to know why I was losing so many tanks. No by the end of the first day? I'd lost a company of tanks, and probably secured six blocks of the damn town.

I am confused, you said you were the Deputy Battalion Commander? Suddenly it was your battalion?

Bah, I am getting old, I did forget that part, didn't I? It seems our esteemed Battalion Commander had believed the KGB and the Political Administration when they said the citizens of West Berlin would greet us as liberators. So, what does the moron do? He has half his body out the hatch like he's in Red Square? A burst of machine gun fire cured him of that problem, and of course, his continued existence within minutes of our entry into West Berlin. And thus, I am now the battalion commander, which was now 22 tanks and a collection of very scared kids, and officers who should have been the best in the Soviet Army, but to tell the truth? They pissed themselves and fell down on the job. I had a company commander refuse to advance under fire. He'd lost two tanks already.

What happened to him?

Arrested by the Commandant's Service before I could say a word. As to his fate after that? Shot summarily. Had to be done. Panic is a contagious rot, Comrade Professor, especially under fire.

[Archangel]

But since I don't want you all to feel screwed!

Good update, Panzerfaus!:)
the conquest of Berlin before all goes nuclear will be costly for the Soviets (especially in terms of morale).

[Panzerfaust 150]

So how did the fighting progress?

As a whole, badly! The East Germans we were supporting were not regular army for the most part, but a mix of Grenztruppen and Kampfgruppen der Arbeiterklasse (Border Guards and Combat Groups of the Working Class, aka Communist Party militia, respectively). Nobody had thought West Berlin would be that difficult, so they delegated it to the East Germans...and the East Germans made a hash of it.

Their units were constant discipline problems. Looting and rape were common, and it took shooting a few of their officers and NCOs to get them moving again. The East German regulars, when we worked with them, were far better behaved. And NATO, they knew who they were facing, and took shameless advantage.

How so?

They would often booby trap stores they knew the stupid party hack bastards were sure to loot. I once saw a massive bomb take out a grocery store and most of a company of Kampfgruppe men. The survivors were screaming and some were still on fire, one was screaming how he was blind, and wanted someone to find his legs, because he couldn't feel them anymore. Christ, things like that stay with you, Comrade Professor, they stay with you. But all of this was nothing compared to what came next.

So what was the 21st like for you?

It began like the last 5 days in Berlin had, losing an average of a tank a block, getting T-55s as replacements, and finding out nobody had either a) trained on T-55s, nor b) had trained as loaders. We had about 12 tanks left, including the replacement T-55s. By noon, we'd lost 5 vehicles, and a good chunk of their crews. You could mark the progress of the advance by the wrecks left behind us. We'd barely made it more than a few kilometers into West Berlin. The motor riflemen hadn't had it any easier, and in some cases, they refused to ride inside their BMPs, calling them "a coffin for 11 brothers". Jesus, it was a nightmare.

We didn't know about the Kassel-Echwinge exchange, at least, not until three hours after it occurred. By then, we knew by the detonations we were seeing in all directions. We could see the lights, like so many flashbulbs. We had a lot of gunners blinded that way...The blast waves shook a lot of buildings, and we lost a few men when a building came down on them. More, well, they committed suicide when they saw the last one. It was Karlhorst. Karlhorst was closest to us...and I knew at that point, my family was dead. I...I did things after that. Things I don't want committed to history. My deputy had to literally force me into my NBC suit. Every man should have some secrets, especially under such circumstances. (Major Volobriev began to cry at that point, and we stopped the interview for the rest of the day).

[Archangel]

The Major would be traumatized for life without proper therapeutical help that may be less abundant depending on the recovery status of the area he lives in.

[Panzerfaust 150]

The Major would be traumatized for life without proper therapeutical help that may be less abundant depending on the recovery status of the area he lives in.

If medical doctors are hard to come by? I almost shudder what mental health resources are going to be like to come by? Peter Watkins movie "The War Game" alludes to this.

[sloreck]

PTSD is real and not to be brushed aside. Having said that humans are pretty resilient & have managed to survive some pretty severe traumas as a group (Black Death, religious wars of 17th century etc) long before psychology/psychiatry, psychotropic meds & so forth. Of course, its better to have those resources, your rates of recovery/function will be better. In a post nuclear holocaust scenario, psychiatric care is going to be in very very short supply, anybody with an MD is going to be back in a "GP" mode no matter what their specialty is - trying to maintain basic health, safe childbirth, oversee sanitation/public health & so forth. Any surviving pharmaceutical production will be for life saving drugs. For soldiers their best hope is mutual support - combat vets helping each other with decompression (a technique used currently by design and traditionally going back long time).

[Hörnla]

PTSD is real and not to be brushed aside. Having said that humans are pretty resilient & have managed to survive some pretty severe traumas as a group (Black Death, religious wars of 17th century etc) long before psychology/psychiatry, psychotropic meds & so forth. Of course, its better to have those resources, your rates of recovery/function will be better. In a post nuclear holocaust scenario, psychiatric care is going to be in very very short supply, anybody with an MD is going to be back in a "GP" mode no matter what their specialty is - trying to maintain basic health, safe childbirth, oversee sanitation/public health & so forth. Any surviving pharmaceutical production will be for life saving drugs. For soldiers their best hope is mutual support - combat vets helping each other with decompression (a technique used currently by design and traditionally going back long time).

And....alcohol. With hindsight, it is gross how much the WW2-generation of my grandparents drank (and smoked). Not only in the evening, or when socializing, but also acceptedly at work.