Permanently Operating Factors - A Soviet LAN AAR

canonized: yeah, its fun trying to ascribe actual tactics to the ai

Discomb: oh dear

coz1: perhaps... though, as discomb mentioned, it will be a while before his next update. I estimate that it'll come in about 20 updates...a lot happened in the first few months that I want to cover.

Discomb: yeah, now and then. though relying on the history log is a bit iffy

General Jac: that certainly is an important question we'll see

update coming up!

23 kilometers west-of-north of Izmit
February 22, 1936

Kuznetsov stood with Berman, watching the water pound the rocky shoreline. From the corners of their eyes, they saw the last of the Turkish warships were steaming out into the Black Sea unmolested; Berman's cavalry had not the heavy artillery necessary to leave more than minor scars on those heavily armored ships. Kuznetsov knew that to incapacitate the Turkish fleet he would require the services of the Soviet Black Sea fleet, commanded by Rear Admiral Panteleiev. And only when the Turkish fleet was beaten could any advance on Istanbul be seriously considered. Kuznetsov sighed; Berman shifted.

Together, they looked toward Istanbul, their as yet elusive goal. Berman growled, “It is a pity that Izmit does not have the heights necessary to control the Bosporus, nor Bursa the heights to command the Hellespont. Only Istanbul...”

His voice trailed off. Kuznetsov was suddenly mindful of the time; there were sure to be developments near Ankara that required his attention. As such, he turned to Berman and, with a gesture, invited him to a map stand placed conveniently nearby by his staff. “So Berman, how were the last ten days? From Konya all the way to Izmit.”

Berman ran a hand through his hair. “Difficult. The first battle of Afyonkarahisar was a close thing.”

Kuznetsov nodded as Berman continued his narrative. “Though the Turks had only one weakened cavalry division, as I understand it under the command of Lieutenant General Gataly, it was well organized and well positioned. My cavalry had just completed a dash into Konya from Batman by way of Gazientep, violently, and Kayseri, less violently. My men had little fight left in them, and as such they only managed to overwhelm the Turks at 0700 on the 14th, having fought since 1400 the previous day. The rain didn't help either of us, but it probably impeded our operations more than theirs.”


The first battle for Afyonkarahisar.

Kuznetsov bit his lip, slipping into thought as he stared at the map. Inside, he was chuckling. Lake Trasimene was becoming a reality. Berman had broken through the southern defenses and Sivas finally fell to Kuznetsov's troops in the evening of the 15th. Kuznetsov then decided against pushing immediately onto Ankara, which was defended by some two or three divisions, in favor of ordering Deev's by then well rested 2nd Mountain Corps to renew its drive on Samsun, supported by Kuznetsov's own two divisions to the south. Kuznetsov thought that this had been the right idea; it would protect his own right flank and revealed to him the power of attacking hostile positions from more than a single direction. Coordinating together attacks along different axes, Kuznetsov's and Deev's staffs managed to effectively control four of the five divisions involved in the attack.

Admittedly, the Turks had resisted doggedly, unwilling to give up such an important position. The fighting against two infantry divisions commanded by Field Marshal Cakmak had lasted from midnight until 0500 on the 17th, when the Turkish defense finally broke and fled westward toward Karabük. A day after the victory, Deev's veteran mountaineers occupied Samsun at last, having stared toward it impotently for the greater part of a month.


The battle for Samsun, during which Kuznetsov's and Deev's staffs worked together fairly effectively.

Kuznetsov blinked, Berman was asking him a question. “Yes? What? Could you, uhh, could you repeat that?”

Berman sighed. “There was a second battle for Afyonkarahisar...”

Kuznetsov nodded, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he had meant to. “Oh, yes! Of course! Tell me about that, as well as your subsequent advance.”

“Before we could occupy the town, Gataly showed up again with his cavalry, which was somewhat the worse for wear after its earlier defeat. This was at about 1400 on the 18th. By this time Saladze's 3rd Mountain Corps had reached Konya and was also advancing toward Afyonkarahisar. His mountaineers were noticeably fresher than my cavalry, and I do not doubt that it was primarily their actions that caused Gataly to withdraw his cavalry northward toward Ankara after some six hours of combat. My cavalry had by this time become so tired that it had nearly no combat worth.”


The second battle for Afyonkarahisar, in which Major General Saladze's three mountain divisions played a large part.

“After Afyonkarahisar, however, the road was clear until Izmit. I attempted a crossing at the Bosporus mid-afternoon on the 21st but was swiftly counterattacked from Izmir and Ankara. I had to cease attempting to cross and the Turks claimed victory at Izmit as well by 1700, but their victory celebration was premature as I managed to re-engage their forces at 1800 on the same day and they hastily halted their advance.”

Kuznetsov scratched his chin. “Don't you worry about your rear?”

Berman nodded. “Somewhat. However, Saladze is marching up as fast as he can and will hopefully reach Afyonkarahisar before the Turks advance down from Ankara. Meanwhile, I'll sit tight here. My cavalry couldn't stand another battle, offensive or defensive. They really need to rest and reorganize, having dashed across all of this damn country in less than two months, having defeating numerous enemy forces along the way.”

Kuznetsov patted Berman on the shoulder. “Yes, that's true. Don't attempt to conduct any offensive operations for the near future, and hope the Turks don't attack. We will attempt to link up to Izmit via Karabük and Ankara as soon as possible, thus securing your supplies. Saladze will guard your rear.”


Berman reached the Bosporus on the 21st as Saladze attempted to catch up as quickly as he could.

Saluting Berman, Kuznetsov made his way back to his little transport plane. He had the feeling that Berman knew what he was doing, and that soon he himself would be needed at Sivas again. Besides, he had the feeling that his vodka was calling for him.

canonized: the Germans aren't close yet

Discomb: in any case, there aren'y many in Istanbul...but there is the Turkish navy

Edzako: I don't believe they do, no

Berrrie: thanks!

VILenin: yes indeed, Russia's grand strategy for the past two centuries depends on it!

comment day again, so no update until tomorrow

canonized: make comments but no update, generally. I find that I also tend to write future updates on comment days

Discomb: partially

General Jac: maybe...

canonized: yeah, the Russian stereotype is to like vodka a lot

update coming up!

12 Kilometers northwest of Konya
February 27, 1936

Kuznetsov swirled the vodka in his shot glass around before downing it. He had the feeling that the eyes of the world were on him and his operation. Progress in Persia was slow and thus little news came from Vacietis. The Germans were running amok in central-eastern Europe. However, the Kremlin was looking not toward Germany but toward him, scrutinizing everything. He felt uncomfortable with this, he disliked having much attention directed toward him. It did not help that Izmit was under a strange sort of siege, though news was better elsewhere. Kuznetsov poured himself another shot of vodka and downed it.

He wished that STAVKA would send some sort of feedback; anything, really, just as long as he would learn where he stood. He disliked ambiguity about such things. And yet, nothing came from Moscow. The Turkish defenses were crumbling, the bulk of the Turkish army was trapped against the Black Sea and soon to be shattered, yet no word of praise came from Tukhachevskij, no promotion. Kuznetsov dearly needed a promotion. Not necessarily for himself, but for a subordinate. The prestige that would come with a promotion was not important, it was the extra staff that he considered vital. His operations thus far had been greatly impaired by a lack of command staffs and if STAVKA did not realize this, Kuznetsov feared for the future. Such a weakness would cripple all future Soviet operations if not addressed.

Kuznetsov shook his head. Berman's cavalry and Saladze's mountaineers were having a difficult time in Izmit. The Turks were essentially attempting to relieve their pocket of troops against the Black Sea, mostly through a simple battle of attrition. Judging by Berman's reports, which Kuznetsov realized he had left in the other room, the Turks had even introduced a new and largely untried general to attempt to bring about victory. This new commander, Lieutenant General Artunkal, first showed himself on the 23rd when, despite a defensive attitude, he assaulted Berman's positions with a corps of infantry from both Ankara and Izmir. Berman's cavalry was still quite exhausted but managed to put up a twelve hour resistance before withdrawing at 1600 that same day toward Ayonkarahisar. Artunkal had apparently been a wise appointment, as he had succeeded in breaking the ring.

Deev attempted to partially compensate for the anticipated loss of Izmit by attacking toward Karabük. This assault began at 1100 on the 24th against two Turkish divisions, still under the command of Field Marshal Cakmak. Deev's assault went well but soon bogged down—due no doubt, Kuznetsov thought bitterly, to a lack of a command staff—and he was forced to halt it on the 26th, at approximately 0500 in the morning. His corps had taken a battering, but it would have no chance to rest.


Deev's unsuccessful attack toward Karabuk, during its early, optimistic phase.

During the afternoon of the 26th, following a victory at Afyonkarahisar where Berman's earlier withdrawing cavalry managed to fend off a Turkish advance and hold onto positions there, Kuznetsov had ordered an assault toward Ankara. It would include Deev's wrecked corps, Marchenkov's corps and Kuznetsov's own corps as well. The Turks, whose strength consisted of only one infantry corps and attacked from three axes, were forced to fall back to Karabük within twenty two hours of the first artillery barrages. Kuznetsov considered pouring some more vodka out, to celebrate one of the few actual successes of the past several days. However, he quickly became lost in his thoughts again, leaving his bottle neglected.


The successful battle for Ankara, in which Colonel General Namut's corps could not stand up against three Soviet corps.

Victory had, in fact, come only a few hours earlier on that very day. Kuznetsov decisively decided to pour himself a drink to celebrate this victory and downed it with enthusiasm. The conquest of Ankara would make the Soviet supply lines slightly less precarious, and give them a better, more stable position from which to assault Izmit and, finally, hopefully, Istanbul. Kuznetsov dearly wished to end the great stress of being a Front commander in an active theater. Even as the fighting for Ankara went on, Beman and Saladze had begun pushing toward Izmit again, aware that they could not allow the Turks to escape the trap.

The Turks had, in fact, reoccupied Izmit. Lieutenant General Calislar, a talented hills fighter and logistician, had arrived in Izmit with a division. However, he came so swiftly under attack from Berman and Saladze's two corps that he was quickly forced out—the fighting lasted from 0700 to 0900. Neither the Turks nor the Soviets had actually managed to update their maps reflecting the reoccupation of Izmit before the Turks were again fleeing from it. As such, no logistics arrangements were made and, in the eyes of the Turkish military bureaucracy, the deadly ring that hemmed five division in against the Black Sea was still being held firm. Kuznetsov smiled. He loved bureaucracy, just as long as it didn't obstruct him.


Berman commanding the assualt on the Turks in Izmit involving his and Saladze's corps.

Kuznetsov looked at his watch, slightly unsteadily. Berman had reported that his cavalry was due to arrive in Izmit in only a handful of hours. Kuznetsov sighed wearily, in all likelihood his tired men would only be ejected quickly and the battle of attrition for the town would continue. Kuznetsov idly wondered how many young men were dying there for a strategic purpose which they only barely knew before quickly pouring himself another shot of vodka. He quickly drowned away the thought. He began idly wondering how many bottles of vodka he had drunk since the beginning of the campaign as he stood up and began staggering off to bed. It was getting dark outside and that's all the excuse he, in his state, needed to sleep.