Chapter 300: "The Bear" is Born
From "Rationalising Defeat - Internationale Military Strategy 1943-44" by Alexander Kempf
By the time Oswald Mosley arrived in Centroamerica, taking control of the extensive Republican military contingent in the region, Imperial Armoured forces were moving to encircle Glasgow where the last stand of Maximism on the islands would take place.
As desperate night-time operations to try and evacuate at least some of the stranded American air-units continued under heavy pressure by the Imperial navies, the recriminations had already begun flying in Chicago while the various powers that be began to formulate excuses to justify the scale of the disaster unfolding for global syndicalism.
By the time the battle for Glasgow commenced in earnest, with most of the landed Imperial forces concentrating on that last holdout, a united front of sorts was beginning to form between the UoB leadership overseas and the Americans in Chicago.
When the last representatives of the Troika and the now captive Risdon agreed to go on Radio to order all remaining UoB forces on the British isles to stand down, the need for a counter-narrative crystalised. For the exiles in Centroamerica and Africa, for the British troops preparing to drive the Japanese backed Hondurans out of Panama and the Communards battling away in the Congo, there needed to be an explanation. There needed to be some truth that could both explain the immense failures and losses while not leaving men lost in defeatist malaise.
There needed to be a reason to carry on, and a reason why so much had been lost. The Generals and military industry commissars too needed a narrative which would let them keep their heads, and their jobs.
Like a bad craftsman, they blamed their tools, and the scale of the task.
Before the onset of Operation Mercury, Russia had been largely dismissed in Red propaganda and military planning alike as a backwards reactionary state of frightened serfs tilling the earth with hand tools to feed aristocrats living 19th century lives.
After Neptune, Russia was now a dreadful and frightful enemy.
Russia was now often simply “the Bear” or “the Empire.” An opponent who, in Syndicalist military estimations had virtually infinite manpower and, importantly, superior equipment in astounding quantities. The Red Generals had done their best, and the soldiers of syndicalism had fought hard and long as united agents of revolution, but they had been buried under the bear’s steamrolling tide of tanks, guns, and airplanes.
The military coordination council of the revolutionary armies, now permanently headquartered in Washington along with many of the Internationale’s other organs, declared that Russian armour was ‘categorically superior in all performance categories, available in superior quantities, and was the primary factor in enemy victory despite the undeniable elan and skill of the revolutionary forces on the European continent.’
The Republican and American naval commanders cast blame on Imperial fleets which grew in their force estimations until even the Browder naval construction plan seemed like it would only be enough to match a fraction of enemy navies. They called for a new generation of ships and redoubled construction.
And in the air, Union survivors painted the battle of Britain as an effort by a noble ‘few’ who took to the sky everyday against an impenetrable cloud of marauding Russian aircraft. They demanded new planes to replace the many thousands that had been lost on the runways and airfields of Britain when they were overrun, lacking the range to make the trans-Atlantic crossing.
Every wing of the Internationale placed their own spin on this new story. Americans were quick to blame Russia’s newfound strength on American exiles. Edsel Ford, William Knudsen, and a legion of other Americans had made the flight to Vladivostok before earning new fortunes introducing American methods into the Russian economy. The Americans had surged into the Russian economy with gusto, mercilessly annihilating or absorbing firms which refused to adapt or change from more artisanal or outdated methods. In Chicago thinking, this contribution grew from being significant to total. Russia hadn’t gotten stronger, so the American argument went, it simply became more American.
Mosley’s mouthpieces instead blamed the Royalist exiles. American methods may have helped uplift Russian industry they conceded, but Canadian investments had begun in the thirties and it was asserted that every Russian advance in training and tactics could be traced back to the guidance of the exiles. Some even took the conceit so far as to claim that the Tsar was effectively a puppet of King Edward, through the frequently caricatured ‘puppetmaster,’ Sir Winston Churchill. The Russian reactionary army might be filled with Slavs, Central Asians, and others they claimed, but it was British in pattern, training, and thinking. A sword shaped by, and wielded by, a vengeful mob of devious reactionary exiles.
Whatever the spin was, the core was the same. Even if it had been created by, or controlled by some variety of Western European master, the bear was a colossus; hungry for revolutionary blood and armed to the teeth with modern weapons of war.
While some might be tempted to dismiss this change in narrative as a desperate exercise intended to protect the beliefs and status of leadership figures of the defeated red nations, the reality was that it quickly seated itself in the core of Red Orthodoxy. From there, it filtered down through the dictates of the central planners and was felt right down to individual workers on the factory floor.
The automotive industry, having nervously begun partial transitions to greater civilian vehicle production after the fall of Canada was now informed, in no uncertain terms, that it would be expected to furnish a new generation of armoured vehicles superior in quality and quantity to the Russian vehicles, suitable both for service in America in even of Russian adventurism and in Africa on the still active war-front there.
The air force asked for scientists, engineers, and strategic resources for its classified ‘high speed interceptor’ project. They were provided, stolen from sectors across the wider economy.
Carrying colours for operation in Britain, no American Rocket interceptors would deploy to the UoB before its fall
The navy wanted new ships...and so the list went on. American warmaking potential began a pankicked surge and re-prioritisation to match a Russian enemy who now took on an almost otherworldly capability in the minds of Red Leaders. Those who knew better, which likely included many in the higher ranks of the military leadership, saw it in their interests to perpetuate the narrative, both to excuse past defeats and ward off the pleading of the civilian wings of the party who were begging for tractors, trucks, and civilian goods to help carry on the thoroughly incomplete task of American post-civil war reconstruction.
The truth of Russo-Roman military strength and performance during the Solar offensives was somewhat more nuanced.
In some respects, its performance had been exemplary, thoroughly outclassing its Syndicalist opponent. The army had gone from the Oder to Gibraltar in weeks. And then, after a pause for extended air and sea fighting, had taken all of the British isles in a little less than a month.
It had inflicted a combined six million casualties on the red armies, including three and a half million against the Communard forces which had previously been considered to be perhaps the finest in the world.
In the course of those campaigns, Russo-Roman army casualties totaled 421,921 killed, wounded, or missing.
That lopsided loss ratio fed a perception of Russian military invincibility that permeated across international military establishments.
The truth of course was somewhat more complex.
Almost half of personnel taking part on the Imperial side of the Solar Offensives had not been Russo-Roman. They had been divisions drawn from the Tsar’s vassal states or from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. These divisions had provided the crushing bulk around which the Imperial armoured forces had maneuvered. When their casualties were likewise considered, Imperial losses increased commensurately.
A focus on manpower losses also belied the bargain at the core of this new Russian way of war.
Russia had lost fewer than one man for every ten opponents it made a casualty, but its losses in armour and vehicles had actually been far greater, and lossed were skewed by massive prisoner figures.
In total, Red forces had lost 5,826 armoured vehicles in Europe between the first day of Mercury and the final day of Neptune.
The Russo-Roman army alone had lost an astounding 31,215 armoured vehicles of all types, including more than 15,000 tanks, 7,000 self propelled guns, and 8,000 halftracks.
The situation in the air was much better, with 13,487 red aircraft losses compared to 7,000 Imperial alliance aircraft during operations, but many of those Red losses were accounted for by the dramatic spike when the Republican airfields were overrun by airborne forces on the first day of Neptune. When those are controlled for, Imperial air losses were comparable to their enemies despite technical and training superiority.
The losses, and the outcomes of the Solar offensives provide a more nuanced picture of Russo-Roman military capabilities in the 40s.
The new Imperial army was a sprinter, and one that spent steel to save on blood.
The army prepared offensives for months, carefully stockpiling supplies, establishing logistical plans, and honing its training and planning.
It then unleashed maximum effort operations, throwing tens of thousands of vehicles and millions of men into the fray. Its aircraft would out-sortie opponents by flying twice as many missions a day. Its tanks would catch the foe off guard with day and night advances that pushed man and machine to their limits. Every piece of equipment would be redlined and driven to destruction to maximise the shock and exploitation of the attack.
At the end, if all went well, the enemy collapsed. In 1942 and ‘43, the enemy did exactly as was required, and folded before the final blow landed.
But like a fighter who comes out of the gate throwing haymakers, the Russian army also managed to exhaust itself, or at least its equipment. It ended Mercury with a majority of its vehicles no longer serviceable. After the French campaign men were exhausted, aircraft required complete overhauls, and the armoured corps needed extensive maintenance at minimum, and outright replacement in many other cases.
It took the better part of a year for the Imperial Army to prepare for Operation Neptune, and the subsequent exertions essentially grounded much of the Imperial air-force as engines hit the service hour limits.
If the Internationale had been more grounded in their evaluation, they might have come to the conclusion that the Solar Offensives had in fact been closer than they appeared. That perhaps, if not for the ruinous decision to commit so much of the Internationale’s might to Central America, the Caribbean, or to Africa, they might have been able to endure the initial hammer blow long enough to throw the exhausted Russo-Romans back to a static frontline. That perhaps, with the right planning and efforts, the tank offensives of Mercury may have ended much as the KMT’s had, burned out, exhausted, and then cut off and destroyed.
That perhaps, if the Union’s army had been watching beaches rather than establishing near complete control over Centroamerica, the Damocles project may have turned out to be Britain’s salvation, rather than a discredited blue-skies project seen as a waste of scarce resources.
While Damocles lagged Russia in enrichment and other areas, they had been the first to achieve a chain reaction
But grief can be blinding, and the desire to maintain position and command resources were powerful motivators.
So there would be no cold evaluation. No measured examination of Imperial military strength.
There would only be “The Bear,” the bloodthirsty armoured avatar of the old order, with never ending legions of tanks and planes. And while the Reds could not agree on whether the Bear was an extension of the Exiled British order, an incarnation of the American Federalists, or a student of Prussian militarism, they could all agree on something.
If you were going to kill a bear, you would need something with a bit of kick.
Pre-production M43 "Reed" undergoing African trials