Chapter 108: Escaping the Cage
Part 108: Escaping the Cage (Feb-Jul 1959)
The Unified Indian State had entered full economic mobilization all the way back in 1952, when the newly ascendant Amrit Ahuya government decided on its plan to wage war against EASA and affirm Unitarian supremacy over Asia. Though originally, the Indians had no plans to fight a protracted war, instead hoping to settle the initial conflict against the Chinese through sheer shock of nuclear attacks, the military affairs committee decided that the strengthening of the military, both land, air and naval, was necessary for further wars, conflicts over the globe to spread the Indian sphere of influence, and as a potential "plan B" in case things go south. Hundreds of additional military equipment factories were constructed or converted from civilian ones, the heavy industry of the state received a serious boost, so did attempts to establish resource autarky through Bengali coal, Jharkhand steel and copper, Persian oil and gas, so on and so forth. But the thing about economic mobilization is one many countries before, including Lithuania and the Union, can attest - if protracted, it will start eating away at the country's life force. Every piece of currency spent on increasing military production and building up and army is a piece of currency not going towards social services, education, consumer goods or food.
And in India's case, the situation was even more precarious, because despite four decades of innovation, modernization and reforms, Unitarian India never managed to fully overcome the fragile food situation in the subcontinent. Rice and wheat, the two primary crops feeding the population, were reliant on the annual monsoon and were largely grown inefficiently, in relatively small, subsistence farms. Though reforms and modernization during the Unitarian era, such as the universal adoption of tractors and a refined infrastructure system, helped amend some of this reliance on weather patterns, the advancements were offset by a rapidly growing population, especially the city-dwellers. By 1950, six of the ten largest cities on the planet were located in India, and supplying all of them with food produces every day was a monumental task which drained all of the agricultural government committee's resources. This situation was already troubling in times of peace, so then what happens when you thrust such a system into a state of total war against most of the planet? Against day and night bombing of infrastructure, railways and cities? Against mass economic mobilization and the draft of millions of farm workers to the Army? The Indian Unitarians knew - after all, they came to power through a famine, too, and they could just as easily fall because of one.
As such, in the first few years, the Party did its best to prevent the Indian food system from collapse - mostly through the plunder of occupied countries and the colonial-like exploitation of occupied and satellite territory. However, by the time 1959 arrived, even that was starting to be not enough. The United States found themselves in a bit of a pickle, too - after all, the Western occupation authorities in the Deccan now had to oversee the feeding of 50 million people, many of whom, especially city-dwellers, had been reliant on northern resources for years. Food was being shipped from continental Europe, but that was not enough to completely amend the situation - a few hundred thousand people in occupied India died from hunger and malnutrition during the first year of the occupation, with more to come.
Family of hunger victims in Tamil Nadu, US-occupied India
In early March, the Westerners finally accomplished a breakthrough, destroying a few Indian divisions in Nahbubnagar and pushing towards the metaphorical gates of Hyderabad, the capital of Andhra Pradesh and a historically important Indian political center. However, here the US forces, starved for supplies and inadequately supported via air, were stopped to a halt by Unitarian landships, commanded by General Bajirao Singham, a veteran of the Southeast Asian Front, now assigned as one of the primary commanders of the Unitarian defense in Deccan. Commonly nicknamed the "Indian Bertolt Brecht" because of his sharp mind and talent in mobile warfare, or the "Vibhishana", after one of the Rakshasa demons from the Hindu legendary epic Ramayana, who, unlike many other peers of his race, was of noble nature (the second nickname was popularized by Spanish writer and colonel Sebastian Diaz, an expert in ancient Indian mythology), Singham struck a cord in Western consciousness as an Indian leader who was surprisingly noble, honest, respectful towards his men and his opponents, while at the same time being a worthy opponent to his Western equivalents, breathing a little bit of chivalry into what was otherwise an automated, machine-like slaughterhouse of a war. This classic interpretation of Singham and his personality has been challenged by recent historians, however, who point out that the Indian military in this stage of the war, including the general commanding them, were far from above brutality against civilians and prisoners of war.
Throughout April and May, after some cleanup work and a few risky offensive operations, the contaminated areas in the eastern part of the frontline were seized by the US forces, which allowed supplies and reinforcements to come more easily - however, the awaited breakthrough and capture of Hyderabad did not arrive, as even then, the far greater levels of Indian land forces dispatched in the area, combined with reserve aircraft units coming into the fray, meant that the US could not gather enough momentum to seize the city nor the rest of Andhra Pradesh. Over a million Indians and a little bit above 700 thousand Westerners were now in the front, turning it into a stalemate and forcing both sides to look for alternative routes. General Damien Robillard, the supreme commander of Operation Spring Thaw, was practically screaming to the US leaders that they need to use the thermonuclear bomb, and soon, but the civilian leaders were obviously not so enthusiastic. What if a nuclear strike only strengthens Indian morale, much like it did to the Chinese in Changsha? Worse, what if the bomb carrying plane is shot down? There was too much at risk here, so Director Henri Simon, Chancellor Volker Braun and Chancellor Xiao Xuegang collectively decided to only "drop the bomb" when the war is close to being won, as a last sucker punch to decapitate the Unitarian government and force out an unconditional surrender. Other voices were calling for a second landing - Persia and South-East Asia were both popular proposals for such a venture. Both regions had a sizable underground resistance against the regime - Thaksin Thammasak's Thai resistance and many, many other similar movements in SE Asia, and supporters of the GEIN and the radical Islamist Jund-e Khoda in Persia - which would likely join forces with the US in the face of a Western ally landing, or at least temporarily cooperate against a common foe. South-East Asia had the benefit of being closer to China and including the Malacca Strait, an important naval chokepoint, while on the other hand, an attack on Persia would mean eliminating India's only source of oil.
Which of these choices was taken? Neither. Almost everyone could tell that the current commitment in Deccan required nothing less than all of the resources of the nations participating - there just was no chance for a second landing.
General Bajirao Singham
Though far from all Indian divisions in Southeast Asia left the front after Operation Spring Thaw, the Westerner landing in the Deccan diverted enough of the Unitarian forces, as well as stopped all large-scale Indian military operations in the area, for long enough that China was able to use this time to recover in full. New railroads and supply lines were hastily assembled to replace the old ones, destroyed by Indian bombardment, while the last of the industry close to the front was transferred to the North. A convoy lifeline was established with Hainan, providing the starved besieged island with food, ammunition and basic supplies. Additional divisions were raised and help from Korea and Japan arrived, in the form of multi-division expeditionary forces, both filling in the gaps in the lines. However, the most important change came in the form of rethinking the country's military doctrine. The Great Asian War is often seen as the death of early 20th century style mobile warfare, armored spearheads and similar elements of "lightning war" - simply put, innovations in aircraft, artillery design and far greater army sizes meant that the landship was no longer the terror of the battlefield like it used to be. Today, it's often just a slow and easy target for jet bombers or self-propelled artillery battalions. China was exemplary in this change in military ideology, diverting more and more resources and R&D funding towards heavier artillery, cheaper, faster and stronger aircraft and mass infantry equipment production. But now, time for Operation Thunderbolt, China's June attempt to use the distraction of the Deccan front to their advantage. Over a million men were embroiled in the first stage of the operation, on a front from Yunnan to the Pearl River Delta.
The Indians were aware that an attack in the East was coming, but there was only so much they could do to prepare against the offensive. Field fortifications were constructed and additional reserves sent to strengthen the defending forces. Despite this, the Chinese offensive struck the Unitarians like a thunderbolt, achieving most of its initial territorial objectives within a few weeks and forcing three army groups to retreat across the Guangxi and Yunnan mountains, pelted by US aerial bombardment and local guerillas. A number of Indian divisions ended up surrounded and destroyed, mainly in desolate mountain passes. Though land gains around the Pearl River Delta were minor, the offensive in Yunnan achieved far greater success, approaching the city of Kunming and threatening to split the Indian front line in two. By July, Operation Thunderbolt was still gaining momentum, and yet the damage dealt to the Unitarian lines was already hard to recover from.
To the Chinese, this was a necessary victory for what was otherwise a nation with a wavering morale, having already lost millions of their boys in the meat grinder that was the Southeast Asian Front. To India, however, this was the second heavy blow during the last twelve months or so. For now, they were still taking those blows and were ready for more. But no nation has endless endurance, and the Unitarians knew that very well.
The world in July 1st, 1959