American forces confused and uncertain–but not provoked to action.”
“What do you recommend, sir?” his operations planner asked.
Mein Low studied the chart, mentally measuring distances and converting
that to reaction time, aircraft range scales, and weapons envelopes. He
tapped on the edge of the chart, then picked up a pencil. He paused, studying
the other marks on the chart, and nodded with approval. Not only was the
chart precisely marked out, complete with current American positions and
resupply points, but it was done with a certain style, the script of the
drafter in harmony with the printing on the charts. A mark of refinement, he
thought, and wondered exactly who’d done it. Not his operations planner. The
man had the penmanship of a peasant.
“Here,” he said finally, making a light mark on the chart. The planner
craned his head across the table to see the point his superior indicated.
“A wise choice,” the planner said appreciatively.
“You think so, do you? Explain to me in detail the merits of this
point.” Mein Low’s eyes glinted dangerously.
“It is–the distances are, of course, obvious,” the planner began. Mein
Low let him flounder for a few more minutes, giving him time to fully
appreciate the dangers of appearing to know more than one did. Better if his
planner had admitted ignorance–always the beginning of wisdom–and simply
asked.
“A small airborne strike force, of course,” Mein Low said. “Not too
many, certainly nothing that would ever begin to challenge the capabilities of
the Aegis cruiser. Four fighters, perhaps. Armed, yes, but flying a highly
visible flight profile. Slow and high, no suspicious maneuvering. Now do you
begin to see the significance of this one point?”
The planner started to nod, and then thought better of it. He studied
the point again, measuring the distance to the American aircraft carrier.
Finally, he looked up.
“This point–if our fighters fly to it, then turn around and return to
base, they are never within weapons range of the carrier.”
“Be more specific!” Mein Low demanded. “It is in the details of planning
that wars are won and lost.”
“The carrier is never within our weapons range, while we are undoubtedly
within theirs,” the planner said hastily. “I see the degrees of relative
vulnerability, but I must confess I do not completely follow your plan.”
Mein Low nodded. That the young staffer had admitted his ignorance
showed progress. Now that the student was willing, the teacher would appear.
“Think of the impression we wish to convey. The South China Sea is ours,
and we need no justification for patrolling any part of it. Particularly the
area we have declared as an exclusion zone–the Americans are there at our
sufferance, and have assumed the risk. I wish to accustom them to seeing
fighters patrolling with impunity in the area. You will instill in each pilot
the concept of cool confidence, that they have the right to be in the vicinity
without any further explanation to the Americans. They will not respond to
any challenges or inquiries from the Americans, nor will they ever venture
within range to launch weapons on the American forces. You now see the beauty
of this plan?”
“I believe so. If the Americans attack our airplanes, that simply
confirms to the world our position–that the Americans are hostile
belligerents in a peaceful area of the world, stirring up trouble and
attacking all other countries at will. If they kill our pilots and burn our
aircraft, they will have done more to unify opinion against them than anything
we could do.”
“And the alternative result?” Mein Low demanded.
“If they fail to act, then they simply reaffirm our rights to patrol our
area at will. But, sir, what if they launch escorts to intercept and escort
our small group?”
“Even better. Let me show you what I intend.”
Fifteen minutes later, the young operations planner began to understand
just how much he had to learn about the art of operational planning.
2000 local (Zulu -7)
Hawkeye 623
“All quiet back there?” Rabbit asked. It wasn’t really necessary to
ask–had anything interesting crossed their screens, the scope dopes would
have been screaming bloody murder.
“Why? You got somewhere else to be?” Fingers asked. The ICS evened out