Red Phoenix (33 page)

______________
CHAPTER
24

Activation

DECEMBER 25—REUTERS NEWS AGENCY FLASH BULLETIN, TOKYO, JAPAN

The first flash bulletin transmitted instantaneously to more than a thousand newspapers, radio stations, and television networks around the world could sketch only the barest outlines of the disaster:

“WAR BULLETIN! INVASION—SOUTH KOREA! The peaceful silence of Christmas morning in Seoul has been brutally shattered by a massive North Korean invasion launched without warning or apparent provocation. Following deadly predawn air raids and commando attacks on most of South Korea’s major cities, tens of thousands of invading North Korean troops have surged across the demilitarized zone separating the two countries. Radio Korea reports heavy fighting all along the 600-mile-long border, and government officials here in Tokyo confirm that Japanese listening outposts are picking up transmissions indicating that titanic air, sea, and land battles are now raging across the length and breadth of the Korean peninsula.

“Seoul has declared martial law, and all communications into or out of the country are now under tight military control. No word has been received from any of the independent journalists in the South Korean capital. A U.S. military spokesman has refused detailed comment but has confirmed that American air and ground forces are fully engaged in the fighting. All U.S. bases in Japan are now reported on full alert.

“So far, there has been no official Washington reaction to the morning’s developments.

“Meanwhile, in a propaganda broadcast heard here, North Korea’s Radio Pyongyang has claimed that its ‘heroic People’s Army’ has repulsed a South Korean invasion and is now engaged in pursuing its beaten remnants back across the DMZ.

“More information to follow as it becomes available.

“REPEATING. WAR BULLETIN! INVASION—SOUTH KOREA! The peaceful silence of…”

DECEMBER 24—THE WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM

Fowler squeezed his way past the secretary of defense and made it to a chair near Admiral Simpson, ignoring a glare from Putnam. He’d never seen the Situation Room so crowded. The Joint Chiefs, most of the cabinet, the intelligence directors, their principal advisers, and senior members of the President’s personal staff were all crammed into this one subterranean, cigarette-smoke-fogged room.

A projection map system on one wall showed a large-scale display of the Korean peninsula. Red arrows and circles showed reported North Korean air, land, and sea attacks. Blake knew the overall pattern by heart since he’d spent the past two hours sifting fragmentary incoming reports to piece it together.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”

The chief of staff’s words brought everyone in the room to their feet, and the buzz generated by more than a dozen heated, low-voiced conversations died away as the President strode in and took his place at the head of the conference table.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get right to it. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do it in.” The President motioned his National Security Council members to their seats, ran a hand through thinning hair, and then tugged at his shirt collar to loosen it.

His attire added a further touch of unreality to the crisis. Washington time was fourteen hours behind Korean time, and news of the North Korean attack had arrived during the first dance at the White House Christmas Eve Ball. The President had come straight from the ballroom floor to this emergency session of the NSC as soon as the reports had been confirmed through secure communications channels. He was still wearing white tie and tails.

Most of the cabinet secretaries and senior White House staff were similarly dressed, and the Joint Chiefs were all in full uniform. Blake regarded his own wrinkled shirt and hastily knotted tie ruefully. He’d been at home surrounded by torn wrapping paper and his daughter’s new toys when the calls started coming in. There hadn’t been time to throw on anything better before a Federal Protective Service squad car pulled up outside his town house to take him on a siren-screaming ride across the Memorial Bridge and through Washington’s slush-choked streets.

He pulled his attention back to the present as the President continued speaking.

“Admiral, we’ve all seen the initial messages from General McLaren, but not much more than that. So why don’t we start this show with a rundown on what you know about the current military situation.”

Simpson nodded and rose briskly to his feet. “Certainly, Mr. President.”

He walked over to the projection map and picked up a light pen pointer. “Exact details are still hard to come by, but it is clear that we’ve been hit with a general North Korean offensive across the DMZ at these points.” The light pen highlighted areas along the western half of the DMZ.

“These ground attacks were preceded both by a well-orchestrated series of commando attacks and by air raids on our airbases, command and communications centers, and supply depots.” Simpson nodded to the display operator, and dozens of points across the length and breadth of South Korea glowed bright red.

The admiral nodded grimly at the murmurs that swept through the Situation Room. “Yeah. We’d always worried about North Korea’s commandos, but we’d always counted on the ROK’s tight internal security to help control the threat. Obviously, what we didn’t figure on was that the ROK’s security force might be too busy cracking down on its own military to keep an eye out to the North.”

Simpson turned back to the display. “Okay. The current situation is this. General McLaren has activated his field headquarters, but communications are still somewhat screwed up. What we do know is that North Korean armored spearheads have penetrated out MLR at these points.” Blobs of light sprang into existence on the map. “Casualties are reported to be heavy, and some of our forward positions have either been surrounded or overrun.” He shrugged his shoulders. “No one knows for sure.”

“We’ve also got some initial reports that suggest that some South Korean units folded up under the first attacks and are pretty well out of it. But that’s also unconfirmed.”

Simpson looked at the President directly. “That’s all I’ve got right now, Mr. President. I’m sorry there isn’t more, but we’re still trying to get a better fix on things.”

The President nodded and turned to the secretary of state. “Any more news from your side of things, Paul?”

The secretary looked ashen. The ambassador to South Korea had been one of his closest friends. “I’m afraid not, Mr. President. The survivors at our embassy are trying to sort things out, but things are still very confused. The ROK government also had a number of its own people killed in the first wave of these terrorist attacks.”

The secretary made a visible effort to pull himself together. “I would recommend a direct call to the South Korean president as soon as possible. Something to let him know we’re backing them in this crisis.”

The President nodded.”Agreed. And I’ll want to talk to the Japanese
prime minister right after that. But not until I can give them a fairly detailed overview of the actions that we’re taking.” He looked at his communications people. “Set up a secure channel for use after this meeting.”

He swiveled his chair back around to face the rest of the NSC and signaled the display operator. The map expanded suddenly to show the Soviet Union. “All right. It’s pretty clear that things are bad enough in Korea. Now, what I want to focus on is this. Just what the hell are the Russians up to? Are they a party to this North Korean invasion? Is this just a prelude to something bigger?”

There was a momentary silence around the table as everyone waited for someone else to take the first crack at the President’s questions.

Finally Blake cleared his throat. Time to stick his neck out.

“Yes, Dr. Fowler?’

Blake looked up from his notes. “Well, Mr. President, I’d have to say that the best guess is that the Soviets were just as surprised by this attack as we were.” He heard a contemptuous snort from Putnam but ignored it. The national security adviser had been cut out of Pacific policy planning for months, knew it, and wasn’t happy about it.

“Is that just a plain guess, or do you have something to back it up?”

“Mr. President, I can’t tell you that we have anything solid yet, but I think it’s the most reasonable interpretation of the facts—at least based on the signals data the NSA has been picking up.”

Blake pushed his glasses back up his nose. “About an hour after the North Korean air and commando attacks began, the NSA intercepted an emergency signal from the Soviets’ Far East Military District HQ in Khabarovsk to Moscow. They’ve been in almost constant communication since then. But the pattern is consistent. Short transmissions from Moscow followed at intervals by longer transmissions from Khabarovsk. Based on that, I’d say that Moscow is asking pretty much the same sort of questions you’re asking, and that the Far East district is doing its best to find out the answers.”

The President considered that for a moment, looking at the map. “Okay. Sounds reasonable. Do you have anything else along those lines?”

Blake nodded. “Yes, sir. Our satellites and recon aircraft have picked up signs that some of their Far Eastern Voyska PVO air defense squadrons have been put on a higher state of alert—but not their Long Range Aviation bomber units. Again, that’s consistent with a defensive and not an offensive reaction—at least for the moment.”

“So there aren’t any immediate signs that the Soviets are planning to jump into this thing.”

“That’s about the size of it, Mr. President.” Blake flipped his notepad to a new page. “In addition, we’ve picked up similar signals from the Chinese. Their Shenyang Military Region fronting North Korea has gone on a defensive alert, but nothing beyond that.”

The President sat back slightly. “Well, good. We may only be facing a local crisis, then.”

Blake nodded. “So far, Mr. President. But if the Soviets or the Chinese scent real success developing in the North Korean offensive …” He shrugged. “At that point all bets are off.”

“Fine, so be it. Now then, that leaves the question of what we can do to make sure these North Korean bastards don’t succeed. Admiral?”

Simpson looked up. “I’ve had my planning staff and the other Chiefs put together a list of options. In the short run, I think it’s essential that we commit our F-15 squadrons based in Japan and Okinawa to the air battle. The ROK’s Air Force took heavy losses in the first raids, and our F-16 wing at Kunsan is almost certainly being worn down by sheer numbers. And I’d like to get a task force from the Seventh Fleet steaming to the area right away. North Korean subs and missile boats have already started trying to interdict the sea routes into the ROK.”

“Approved. Send the F-15s and the Seventh Fleet in ASAP.” The President waited while Simpson handed a note to an aide before continuing. “Okay, Phil. What are my other military options?”

“Well, I think we should start sending ground unit reinforcements to McLaren. He’s only got the Second Division over there right now, and infantry tends to get chewed up pretty fast in this kind of fighting.”

Blake agreed with the admiral. The South Koreans could mobilize a lot more men than the U.S. could possibly ship in, but every extra man would count. Besides, it would send exactly the right signal to Pyongyang, Moscow, and Beijing by demonstrating American resolve.

Simpson continued, “With your permission, Mr. President, I’ll alert the commanders of the Sixth Light in Alaska, Seventh Light at Fort Ord, and the Ninth Motorized at Fort Lewis for movement to the ROK. The ready brigade from the Twenty-fifth in Hawaii is already loading.”

He nodded toward the Marine four-star general to his left. “The commandant says the Third Marine Division on Okinawa is already packing, and the prepositioned cargo ships at Tinian will sail within six hours. They have the equipment for a heavy brigade already loaded. He has also alerted the First Marine Division at Camp Pendleton, and some of the Force Troops Pacific at Twenty-nine Palms.”

The President toyed with a pen and asked, “Do we have enough sea- and airlift to move all those troops?”

Simpson shook his head. “Not even half of them. But I’m sure we can get help from the Korean merchant fleet and from their national airline. I’d also like permission to begin mobilizing the West Coast elements of the National Reserve Defense Fleet and a limited portion of the Civil Reserve Air Fleet. I expect the airlines will cry bloody murder for a few days, but we’re gonna need the transport.”

Again the President sat thinking for a moment and then said, “All right. Let’s do it. Cut the orders and I’ll sign them.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President.” Putnam leaned forward in his chair, his face flushed and his voice barely under control, obviously smarting at having been ignored in the discussion so far. “Shouldn’t you consult with our allies and with the congressional leadership before taking these steps? I mean, we don’t want to go this thing alone.”

Blake frowned. The President saw it and motioned to him to respond. “It would be wise to consult with our allies as soon as possible, Mr. President. But there’s no need to give them a veto over our discussion here. The actions you’re taking now are all covered under the UN Security Council resolutions passed back in June and July of 1950 calling on member states to meet North Korea’s aggression with force. They’ve never been rescinded. So, technically, our allies have the same obligations with regard to South Korea that we do.”

Blake pointed to the map. “But no one else has the ability to transport the needed troops and equipment into the Pacific region. In practical terms, then, we’re going to have to go it alone anyway.”

Putnam’s face purpled. “That may be true. But what about the Congress? Under the War Powers Act—”

“Come off it, George!” The President cut Putnam off in midsentence. “No administration has ever recognized the War Powers Act as constitutional, and I’m not about to start now. Christ! You think I want the North Koreans believing I’ll have to go hat in hand to the Congress to keep our troops there longer than a lousy ninety days?”