The Long Hard Road

Chapter One: The First Step Forward

Ten Downing Street

London, United Kingdom

23^rd March 1942

As he had done every day for the past two years, Prime Minister Sir Charles Hanover checked the report of the Weird Incident Investigative Group; the council of scientists set up to study the Transition. The Transition, the event that had put the entire nation of Britain back in 1940, two years ago, had been determined to be an unnatural event, but past that…? No one had a clue; from eminent scientists to women who read tealeaves… it was as big a mystery as ever.

Perhaps we’ll find out the answer one day, but not for a while, Hanover thought, picking up his cup of tea and taking a sip. It wasn’t what it had been once; the supplies of tea from 2015 had run out nearly three months ago, even under the rationing system. The various merchants had forged new links with India, but the tea just wasn’t the same. Hanover chuckled; given the chaos enveloping India’s borders with Soviet-occupied Iran, he supposed he should consider himself lucky to have it.

A mound of briefing papers and emails occupied his attention, demanding that he study their contents and make executive decisions that his subordinates would translate into real live action. General Cunningham, working with SHAFE – Supreme headquarters Allied Forces Europe – was particularly insistent, demanding that Hanover order the RAF to assign more of the priceless handful of tactical support bombers to support the Allies in Scandinavia, the war raging across Norway and Sweden.

Hanover cursed. He’d hoped for – worked for – an American declaration of war against Russia, allowing the British a rest and a chance to rebuild their strength. Instead, the declaration had come at the wrong time… and a three-way war had broken out in Scandinavia. The American forces, after having kicked the Germans out of Norway, had been hammered by the Soviets; General Patton had been forced to feed more and more men into the maelstrom. In the meantime, the Soviets had recovered from the shock of the nuclear strike against their supply lines… and managed to launch a minor offensive into India.

Blasted logistics, Hanover thought coldly, staring out of the window at the cold grey sky. Logistics prevented Patton from evicting the Soviet Army back to Finland and beyond; logistics prevented the British from developing the ability to defeat Russia in Iran once and for all. Between the sudden need to protect the Turks, who at least could fight once they were rearmed with modern weapons, and the need to strengthen the defences of India, mounting an offensive had become impossible.

Hanover shook his head wryly. The talking heads, the people who gave their opinions on television, had claimed that America entering the war meant the victory was in the bag, claiming that it would all be over by Christmas 1941. As it had happened… the decisive defeat of the Germans in the Middle East had saved them from having to fight the Germans as well as the Russians in that theatre, but at the cost of damaging relations between the Republic of Arabia and Turkey.

Hanover glanced up at the map. The only good thing to have come out of the victory – apart from removing nearly half a million Germans from the balance sheet – had been the chance to help the Republic of Arabia to grow properly. Soon, he knew, it would absorb Iraq… and that was where the problems were going to begin. Not only had the Turks snatched a large chunk of Syria, but they were also evicting the Kurds… and pressing a claim to the oil wells in Northern Iraq.

Bastards, Hanover thought coldly. For once, he had had no argument with Shahan McLachlan, a man who might grow up into the leader of the Muslim Reformation. He certainly hadn’t done badly, forming the Republic of Arabia out of the desert wastes of the former Saudi Arabia – and working to create the first Muslim democratic state. Shahan had protested and threatened war… and if the Soviets hadn’t taken that day to remind the Turks that they still existed, it might have done very badly for everyone. The Russians had bitten off a chunk of Turkey, which had started the Turks screaming for help themselves.

Hanover sighed. There were nearly one hundred thousand British soldiers dug in near Istanbul, holding the supply lines closed and defending Turkey, even though they were no longer needed there. Politics demanded they stay there, even as politics demanded that a similar force remain in England at all times, against the impossible threat of a German invasion.

It was a great deal simpler when we were on our own, Hanover thought, and took a sip of tea. In the Far East, where America wasn’t at war with Japan – despite supplying Australia and India with weapons – the Japanese refused to admit that they were beaten. They’d lost almost all of their fleet to British ships – Admiral Turtledove had redeemed himself in the eyes of the Board of Inquiry – and several of their army divisions had been annihilated during the ill-fated invasion of Australia.

Hanover clenched his fist, squeezing the cup tightly. Once the new submarines were at their base in Australia – fifty new diesel submarines – the Japanese supply lines would be cut, once and for all. He’d argued that the submarines they did have should be sent in at once, but the Australians had been reluctant; they’d wanted to ensure that they moved in with overwhelming force.

Hanover shuddered. Not only were the Japanese moving thousands of their own people to China, displacing the Chinese, but they were reinforcing their own defences. Even with the advanced technology, the death toll of an attempt to invade Japan itself would be ghastly… except how else could they compel the Japanese to surrender?

Atomic weapons, Hanover thought, and shuddered again. The Americans were working hard on their own weapons, and he knew that the Germans and Russians were trying hard to complete a bomb. After all, they had a very good reason to want one… and plenty of incentive to use it. Once America got into the fight, and Scandinavia was secured… the invasion of Europe could begin.

“Production of JDAM weapons is up by fifty-seven percent,” Armin Prushank, the Minister for War Production, reported. As always, his voice was boring and depressing at the same time. Hanover always made him talk first, just to keep everyone awake. “While the demand for bombs for Norway and the rest of Scandinavia remains high, we should be able to meet production targets for the other war zones.

“Unfortunately, we cannot add more to the fleet of converted tactical heavy bombers,” he continued. Something very much like a sigh echoed from the military men in the room. “We have to balance the requirements and ensure that we have enough cargo capability to meet transportation requirements; only twelve aircraft can be spared.”

Hanover scowled to himself. Twelve. Twelve converted cargo planes; all converted into bombers, was all they had. Given a couple of years, they could have made the sky black with bombers, but there wasn’t time, not with Himmler running things just across the Channel.

“Fortunately, production of advanced anti-tank weapons, and limited anti-tank weapons from America, has risen considerably,” Prushank concluded. Hanover smiled to himself; fortunately Prushank was also good at writing briefing notes. “While building more than a handful of extra 2015 tanks is going to be difficult, we will maintain superiority in anti-tank weapons until the end of the war.”

He sat down. Hanover nodded to him and spoke gently. “Thank you,” he said. “Gentlemen, it is not an exaggeration to say that the decisions we make here will affect the course of history. We have to decide what we are doing to do – this year – to end the war.”

“That is an urgent requirement,” Noreen Adam, Public Affairs Representative, said. Her dark skin, partially concealed by a black headscarf, was bruised in places. She hadn’t had an easy life; everyone knew that. Hanover considered her; Muslim or not, she was no fool.

“As you know, dissatisfaction with the war is growing,” she said. “There was a great deal of expectation that the Americans would be able to take over and…”

“Do most of the heavy lifting,” Cunningham supplied.

“Effectively,” Noreen said. If she was rattled or annoyed, she didn’t show it. “Many people… just didn’t grasp that we were back in 1940, back in the days after the Transition. We are not a small island off the coast of America; we’re one entire country and – let’s face it – not many of us have relatives overseas to lose contact with entirely. In many ways, the rationing and the shortages, to say nothing of losing all of the communications and the Internet outside the United Kingdom, didn’t impact on that many people; they expected us to solve the problems and to some extent we have.

“Unfortunately, they want the war over with, so they can get back to their normal lives,” she continued. “Instead, we’re going to have to launch an invasion of Europe… and it’s harder to work up public anger at Himmler than Hitler. Hell, how many people know who Himmler was? Is? They know that the death toll will be appalling… and they don’t want their people to die.”

“Neither do we,” Cunningham snapped.

“I know that, General,” Noreen said. “It’s harder to convince the public. It wasn’t quite real, not until it dragged on and on and… when it became clear that there wouldn’t be a quick victory, they want the war to end with some kind of peaceful settlement.”

“Hah,” Admiral Grisham muttered. “These people are evil incarnate.”

Noreen met her eyes. “With all due respect, Admiral, so were some of the west’s allies in the terror war.”

“Enough,” Hanover said. “Yes, that is a problem, and hopefully the war can be ended this year, before this becomes a worse problem.” He scowled. “However… John?”

“Well, the Turks want us to launch an invasion up towards Stalingrad,” McLachlan, Hanover’s closest ally on the Cabinet, said. “They want us to rid Iran of the Russians, which – incidentally – would please the Indians.” He chuckled. “It’s pretty much the only thing they all agree on – that and the need to wipe out the Japanese force in Burma.”

Hanover scowled. The Japanese had launched three divisions into Burma after failing to take Singapore. Their logistics had collapsed in the awful terrain… and they’d just been left there, as far as any of PJHQ’s analysts could determine. The Japanese had been left there for nearly a year and a half, terrorising the local population and trying to muster the strength to tackle the line of defences along the Indian border.

“They’ve still not managed to agree on a constitution?” He asked. The Indians had ended up nearly fighting a civil war; only thirty thousand Contemporary troops and a great deal of luck had prevented one from breaking out… that, and the Japanese troops at the door. Hanover smiled; leaving them alone had proven to be worth the arguments from PJHQ.

“I’m afraid not,” McLachlan said. “From what General Wavell sent, the real problem is that none of the groups involved really trusts the others. Some of them – the Sikhs mainly – want us to stay involved as honest brokers, while the INC wants to move at once to full independence as part of the Commonwealth. As you know, this affects our ability to recruit troops from India… and in the meantime that fool Bose is making trouble in the north.”

Hanover scowled. “And the Americans?”

“Well, they’re finally getting over the manpower problems they had and they’re raising new forces now,” McLachlan said. “Ambassador King was working on training them up to our standards, equipped with the weapons we designed for them, and hopefully they’ll be ready to march all the way to Moscow. I believe that President Truman was going to discuss the long-range plans with you in a few weeks.”

Hanover nodded. “So… what are our options?” He asked. “Major?”

Major Steve Stirling coughed. As the most junior person in the room, he wasn’t always visible to the others in the room. “The Oversight Committee has been considering the matter,” he said. “It is reasonably clear that Germany remains our most dangerous opponent; the science of the Soviet Union can’t match the Allied production advantages. The Oversight Committee has therefore prepared a number of operation plans for your study and approval.

“The first plan is to force a landing in the Netherlands and take the docks there, rather like we did at Gallipoli, but far more complicated,” he said, adjusting the map. “Once established there, we can bring in forces from England – as we’re going to be building up forces in England anyway – and march into Germany, therefore bypassing France. Once we defeat the Germans in Berlin, we can mop up their occupation forces after defeating the Russians.

“The downside of the plan is while it promises the quickest end to the war, short of using nuclear weapons, it runs the greatest risk of catastrophic defeat by facing the might of the German army head on in very bad terrain. The Germans would have a window of opportunity to throw us back into the sea, which would be very costly in time and lives.

“The second plan is to invade through Spain,” he said, adjusting the display to match. “The build-up would be in north Africa, which would avoid the social problems in the time-honoured manner of passing them on to someone else. While that would allow us to link up with the resistance in Spain, it would force us to grind our way over the mountains, through France and into Germany. Again, the downside is serious; while it offers the best chance of establishing a secure position on the continent, it forces us to fight our way through growing opposition and the death toll will be immense.

“The third and final plan – although the Turks have been hinting at an offensive through the Balkans – is to launch an invasion through Italy,” he concluded. “While picking off some of their islands is a good idea, it would be far more difficult to launch an invasion fighting our way up Italy.”

“Very good,” Hanover said. “Any questions?”

“Why not just land in France and balance the two problems?” Cunningham asked. “We already know most of the problems with that approach.”

“The Germans might do so as well,” Stirling said. “While yes, a landing in France has much to recommend it, we would still have problems with advancing into Germany… and there would be political issues as well.”

Hanover nodded grimly. Two years after the Transition – and the disappearance of General DeGaulle – the French hadn’t managed to muster even a token resistance to the Germans. The Vichy Government had played upon the loss of Algeria – and its current status as a provisionally independent region – to muster anti-British support from the French, something that Tomahawk strikes had only made worse. While there were a handful of resistance agents, there was no Free French. The same pretty much went for Italy and Spain; ironically, only Germany had a resistance force, the Bundeswehr.

“Certainly, we owe them no favours,” he said. “One way or the other, we’ll have to discuss this with the Americans, seeing that we’ll be mounting a joint offensive.”

Stirling nodded. “The Oversight Committee believes that we should clear up Iran and Iraq, and then launch the invasion of Europe – wherever the Americans want to land, seeing they’ll be providing much of the manpower – in June,” he said. “The long-term plan, marching to Moscow, will have to depend on the outcome of the conflict in Europe. Of course, there are always the other plans.”

Hanover nodded. The orbiting Space Station Hamilton, the construction that the Ministry of Space had assembled in orbit, provided a great deal of the communications and orbital reconnaissance network. He smiled; there were plans to deploy space-based weapons against the Russians… and of course there was the Russian Resistance, which was slowly building up in Russia.

“So,” Hanover said, “we’ll concentrate on Iraq and Iran for April and May?”

General Cunningham nodded. “Quite frankly, sir, we’ve waited too long as it was. I understand the politics behind the decision, as well as the need to send almost all of our new production of weapons to support the Americans, but that’s given Stalin time to build up his own forces.”

Hanover sighed. “We’ve been over that before,” he said. “Short of forcing the Americans to fight on their own, we would have – had had – no choice, but to send them what assistance we could. Still, we have better tanks and better people; we will defeat Stalin.” He looked around the room. “Any final points before I meet with the President?”

Adam Toulouse, Secretary of State for Defence, coughed. “Prime Minister, what about the Japanese?”

“The Australians want to discuss that with us at the coming conference,” McLachlan said. “They want limited offensives to add to their own territory; now that Menzies is certain of victory, he wants to use the Australian forces to take the Dutch East Indies and the other islands and bring them into the Commonwealth.”

Hanover smiled at the thought. It wasn’t one he disapproved of; the future Indonesia had caused quite enough trouble in the future and Sir Robert Gordon Menzies, Prime Minister of Australia, was quite right to try to head it off at the pass.

“We cannot just let them add to their own territory,” Anna Hathaway, Home Secretary, injected. Hanover smiled; it was more a case of not bothering to stop them. “The public…”

“The public would be delighted at how the Aussies are saving the lives of people who would be hit by a typhoon later,” McLachlan snapped. Hanover shrugged; the basic weather pattern had remained the same, but there were small changes happening all the time, growing into bigger changes. With two nuclear weapons deployed – such a bloodless term – it was very likely to change the weather in the future.

Hanover tapped the table. “There is a more important issue at hand,” he said. “What do we do about Japan?” He looked around the table. “Invade them? Costly beyond nightmares. Nuke them? Unthinkable. Starve them out? Unimaginable. What in bloody hell do we do?”