The United States: 'Advantages without Obligations'

November – December 1951: The Great Crusade – Winter Thaw

The devastation of Moscow and Leningrad in October 1951 did not bring the war to an immediate, though it forever altered its nature. It was as if a last threshold had been crossed, and the means to win a war expanded, just as it had slowly been doing so for the past year. Air combat became massive carpet bombing which became rocketry attacks and finally the atomic era. Even as the death toll was being contemplated, and the world struggled to come to terms with the unleashing of such power, there was still a global war being fought, and it showed no signs of stopping.

In the latter months of 1951, the whereabouts of one man was on everyone’s mind – Josef Stalin, leader of all in the Soviet Union. Sometimes in his deep bunker underneath Moscow, other times in transit on his secret train on the city outskirts, few outside the Committee for State Security (recently renamed from the Communist Secret Police/NKVD) knew this. The epicenter of the blast, some half a mile northeast of Red Square, had obliterated access to Moscow’s underground system and the bunker. With no word from the Soviet premier, it could only be assumed that he was either dead, trapped inside the entombed bunker, or else spirited away in some remote location, biding his time before returning to the public realm. If anyone knew or suspected, they weren’t talking. Those who might gain with his death did not dare take the next step unless they knew absolutely. The major factions were nervous to even discuss the issue, or hint at the man’s death. One could be shot for even thinking such ambition. And so, despite the report of a ”fairly great” bombing of Moscow and Leningrad, no mention of Stalin’s unknown whereabouts was mentioned in Pravda or made known to the troops. As far as the Soviet Union was concerned, Stalin was perfectly alive and in charge. Of the heads of the major organs of the Soviet nation – military and political – there was a quiet pact to maintain Stalin’s ‘public life’, at least for an unspecified time. Though no records exist of any correspondence between Beria and Zhukov, the brief notation in the latter’s memoirs, of ”an acquiescence to circumstance” could be construed to mean much.


Meanwhile, there was the physical fallout to contend with. The Moscow bomb, a plutonium bomb and the fourth produced by the United States (the first two being used in the Tycho tests in Safford, Arizona), was only a half-mile off target, remarkable for the crude guidance systems used by the Goddard rockets of the day. In the blink of an eye, centuries of Russian grandeur were gone – Tsarist and Communist. The Kremlin, the Great Palace of the Soviets – vanished. It was destruction unlike anything ever seen, even in the great B-36 raids over France and Germany. Leningrad fared slightly better, if such a crude distinction could be made amidst human horror. The uranium bomb used was less than half the power of the Moscow bomb and it hit further off target, almost a mile and a half east of its theoretical aiming point – the Peter and Paul Fortress. Causing great devastation, the mile and a half blast diameter was focused somewhat to the east of the city proper. The lasting effects of the bomb, however, sickness and long-term ailments, would haunt Leningrad for decades to come. The military effect, in reality, was slighter than some Western historians have contended. Although both cities were major political centers, and great marshaling yards for troops transiting from the Far East to Europe, neither loss critically hurt the Soviet rail network, its industrial capacity, or its troop levels. Perception, however, has its own criteria, and the sudden blow to two great cities angered and unnerved the population. Resolve was joined to worry, determination to fear.

According to their ‘quiet pact’, however, the Soviet leaders continued to run the Soviet Union without mention of Stalin, a careful fiction that worked for the present. Marshal Zhukov, long considered the heart of the Red Army, remained in China where he was presently dictating terms to the warlords of Anxi and Kunming. Refusing to recognize the Kiri hegemony, he called on the last of the Chinese holdouts to come to terms with the new reality and join the ”family of Chinese government”. Only the massive Japanese air and sea support on the coast, and the first U.S. troops in Shanghai, kept the slimmest hope alive. Despite the Korea bomb, as well, the Japanese hold on Vladivostok presented a thin if recognizable threat to the Soviet position in Manchuria.


The success in China continued to assert the Comintern’s dominant position in Asia, despite disquieting reports from India, where Truscott’s Eleventh Army was defeated Novikov’s infantry east of the Indus, surrounding two Romanian divisions and potentially saving India from a direct Soviet drive on Delhi. In tandem with DeWitt’s occupation of Damascus, and Abdullah’s triumphal entry into Mecca, the first cracks in Soviet Central Asia were being seen.


Nothing, however, produced more fretting in the Soviet high command than the news from Europe. With the Soviet pocket in France cut in half, and reported OTO negotiations with both the Italian and Spanish governments, the worst shock came in December when, despite the snow of a relatively mild winter, Patton’s tanks had swept through the Rhineland, reaching the North Sea near Hamburg and pushing aside four panzer divisions, cutting off in one fell swoop, the entirety of the Soviet army in Western Europe.


In all, west of the Elbe, over one hundred twenty Soviet divisions had been cut off in Spain, France, and the Low Countries. Though not yet critical, their loss would spell the death-knell to Soviet control in Western Europe and would destabilize the Vienna Pact’s hold on the central European nations. Austria and Hungary were already demanding reinforcements, and President Pieck’s administration in Berlin was surprisingly quiet.


In the United States, however, there was a grim satisfaction at being able to strike back at the Soviet Union on such a grand scale. Few, if any reports, made mention of the casualty levels inflicted, and if anyone knew, few wished to contemplate the reality. The Lindbergh administration made great mention of the Soviet perfidy in radiating northern Korea, and the atomic bombs over Moscow and Leningrad were seen as a proper response. Again, the government made little mention of the any Soviet potential to retaliate. Indeed, most in Washington believed the Soviets couldn’t, except, in worst case, irradiating a piece of Germany. Such was the mentality at this time, however, that was deemed minor in comparison with the power the United States wielded. No other governments knew, at the time, that the American stock of atomic bombs had been used up in October, and an available weapon would not be ready until as early as April. A secondary targeting list, prioritized after the Soviet failure to immediately seek terms, was drawn up, listing Kiev, Pskov, Sevastopol, Stalingrad, and Irkutsk as possible targets. It was around this time that General LeMay made the famous boast, ”except for a foot-race by George, this war is being won through the bomb, the bomber, and the rocket.” And, indeed, the bitterness of the war had turned the use of the atomic bomb into a kind of grim satisfaction, a useful development for the National Party headed into an election year.

Vincent Julien: Would they collectively call the earlier wars....WW2? You essentially have the European War, the Anglo-Japanese War, and the Pacific War. Or would you say the <something> Wars? One of the reasons I use Great Crusade for WW3 is because I'm unsure of the numbering.

rollothepirate: I'm not sure it's realistic as much as the US has a tougher edge, less idealism, less diplomatic niceties. Since my writing has primarily been about war and the chaotic events at home, there's really no opportunity to show that many aspects of American life continues as it always has.

Lennox: True, the traumatic mindset of Mexico didn't set in as much as it might have, probably due to the trumped-up patriotism of Lindbergh's 1940 election and the victory afterwards, not to mention the fittingly tough settlement in Central America. The Pacific War wasn't decisive, but the US could feel some pride in having flung back the Japs and forced them to come to terms. Then a 5-year lull before the next war, so there's some rationale for a patriotic outlook in the US at this time I think. Of course, not everyone in 1951 is a Lindbergh fan, mind you.

pkdickian: I take notes off the political discussions in this thread.

Draco Rexus: Probably Poland, maybe a swoop on Prague or Vienna. With Italy negotiating itself out of the war, along with maybe Spain, the front will remain in Central Europe.

Allenby: I'll have to check. I think the big problem is, there's 5-6 countries there with 5-10 divisions each. And the AI is saying...I only have 5-10, I'd better wait. And no one is saying, I have 60! Attack!

Ladislav: I'd say it's AI, too, though it's remarkably effective when, coupled with Portugal, it drew a lot of Soviet divisions into Spain.

Faelin: I'm inclined to agree, and eagerly await La France Libre's reply.

Ivan the Mellow: Well, the key in my view is airpower. The Soviet air force has battled in China for 2 years before the European war broke out. Japan held the upper hand though it was bitter. Enter the US Air Force, and wings of B-36s. A B-36 wing is a flying artillery battery - strike that, a flying artillery corps. Continuous B-36 bombardment severely weakens an opposing army, making a tough combat easier. I only have two of these wings, but they're devastating weapons in action. I literally use them for blasting holes. Of course, that's also why I write about the devastation of France. You can destroy troops with bombers unless you have enough bombs and enough planes. The German army is 48 divisions strong, not as impressive as it could be after a few years. Resources might play a key, and also the Germans lost a few divisions in Baluchistan, aiding the Soviets. If I fight the Red Army without airpower, I typically lose. There's a few instances in France where I do, early on. But once the airpower arrived, the game changed.

elbasto: The Soviets have 483 divisions under arms. Counting up, we have 163 in China, 53 in Central Asia, 42 in the Middle East/India, 32 in Scandinavia, and 173 in Central and Western Europe, 105 of which are now surrounded. It's going to hurt.

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I hope to have an update out this weekend. After thinking about it, 1952 will be the last year of the game, peace or no peace. I think a presidential election is a fitting way to end it, since I began with one back in 1936. I will probably write some epilogue stuff, but the game engine is starting to smoke.