Prologue:
August 1945
General George S. Patton Jr. was fuming mad as he paced back and forth in his Third Army Headquarters. The brass once again felt that he had gone and run his mouth off however he knew he was speaking the truth. You could not trust the Communists! This had seemed clear as day to him however seemed to elude the higher echelons of the Army staff.
“Sir, General Smith on the line for you.” The words of Charlie Codman broke him out of his funk. Patton’s eyes gazed towards Codman before giving him a gentle grin as he bit his lower lip softly.
“I’ll take it here” Patton spoke as he whirled around and picked up that black phone near to where he was standing almost as if he was waiting for this call.” Beatle! I know Ike doesn’t want to hear a damn thing about it but I just know that I’m right about this.”
The man on the other end of the line was General Beadle Smith, Chief of Staff of General Dwight Eisenhower. Beadle was known for being short tempered and only bringing very specific advice to Ike, and typically that meant that Patton was shit out of luck. George could hope for luck though, and having survived two world wars, his staff car being bombed and strafed by Nazi pilots, and a wound in the First World War, George knew he had quite a bit of luck to spare.
“Look George. I know you and I don’t see eye to eye on a great many things but I’ve been talking to Brad and we agree. We can’t allow the Russians to dictate terms to us like this.” The tones of Beatle’s voice were soft as if he didn’t want his boss to hear what he was saying. “The only thing that Brad and I can think of to do is to hope that the Russian’s jump the line in the sand. Ike will never back another war not while we are still fighting the damned Japs.”
Patton took a deep breath closed his eyes as his palm ran across his bald forehead. He was sweating all right, almost as much as he had when he waited to find out if he got into the Point. He had been waiting his entire life for a big show and it looked like an even bigger show than the drive across France was about to fall into his lap. “What if I can give you that war?”
Beatle sat back a bit in his high-backed leather chair and thought for a few moments. He knew the British Bulldog, Churchill, wanted war with the Reds. Truman seemed lukewarm to the idea whenever Henry Stimson mentioned it to him however stated he felt Ike had the true feel for things. If Ike didn’t feel a war with the Soviet’s was necessary than it wouldn’t happen. “Explain yourself George”
“I captured some Soviet gear and weapons on my push south through Austria. It looks like Hitler was having it examined to see if they could back engineer some of the Technology. We do what Hitler did back in ’39 with Poland.” George’s voice was near frantic. He knew that this plan would come with risks and he knew just as well that he needed Beatle to sign off on it.
“No one would believe the Soviet’s when the denials begin. People would just assume Stalin thought he could get a bit more without a fight and now had a fight on his hands.” Beatle sighed softly. It might just work but it would take absolute secrecy, and no one who portrayed a Soviet could be left alive.” Who would do it?”
“I’ve got almost 200,000 Kraughts in POW camps. They hate the communists more than we do and I’m sure I can get a group together willing to bring a war about with them. Hell, we should be rearming the whole lot of them and throwing them into the lines once this thing blows.” George’s tone suggested he had half a mind to bring this plan to fruition even without approval from on high.
“Let me talk to Brad and get back to you. Don’t do anything without approval George otherwise you’re sure to put the final nail in your coffin this time” Beatle hung up before George could reply and sighed softly. This might just work.
