“I am not finished speaking,” Mansfeld said, coldly. “You will not interrupt me again, sir.”
Zeller’s frown grew, but he nodded tersely.
Holk wore a secret smile on his doughy face.
Mansfeld noticed, and he turned to the Army Group A general. “I am not altogether pleased with your results, sir. Until Toronto, you have done well. Now you have slowed considerably.”
“There are several reasons for this,” Holk said. “First, I am facing the best Americans troops.”
“I am uninterested in excuses,” Mansfeld said. “Certainly not in listening to them. I demand
“I understand,” Holk said. “But—”
“Stop!” Mansfeld said. “If you are about to tell me a ‘but,’ then you do not understand anything. Drive the Americans. Push to Detroit and push to Niagara Falls and Buffalo. I want the Americans desperate.”
“Sir,” Holk said. “You and I both know Army Group A has achieved masterful results. I’ve been attacking and sweeping everything before me for weeks. Each time, the enemy rushes new reinforcements against me and I break them again. My men are tired, even exhausted. My machines are breaking down at an alarming rate. A week’s rest and refit—”
“Is out of the question,” Mansfeld said. “You must drive your men harder and harder yet.”
“Then I request substantial reinforcements,” Holk said.
“Your request is denied,” Mansfeld said. “You have everything you need and more to achieve sustained results.”
“Please allow me to say yes and no, sir,” Holk said. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “This is a list of critically needed supplies. I don’t wish to cast blame on others, but key supplies have failed to reach my depots. I have inquired and learned that General Zeller has confiscated these items.”
“I have simply replenished my stores,” Zeller said, hotly. “I am about to make an amphibious assault. It is the most dangerous mission in a war. Too many stocks were burned up as I destroyed enemy formations that Army Group A had bypassed. You must not forget that I also guard against Army Group New York to the northeast of Lake Ontario.”
“No,” Holk said. “I understand that the supply routes move through your assigned territory before they reach me. Your quartermasters have pilfered—”
“Gentlemen!” Mansfeld said, sternly. “We have achieved incredible results in a short span of time. Both of you have performed prodigiously and both of your army groups have fought tirelessly. The battle in the Golden Horseshoe has proven particularity exhausting, and you have each expended a greater amount of munitions than we anticipated.”
Mansfeld spoke directly to Holk now. “You have stretched the American position to the breaking point. That is good, but you mustn’t stop. Your men are tired. The Americans are even more so. I expect you to break out of the Golden Horseshoe and reach London, Ontario in a week. Afterward, you have another week to reach Detroit.”
“If my divisions were fresh and the men completely rested, yes, of course,” Holk said. “I could do as you say. But their present state—”
“You must listen to me,” Mansfeld said. “The enemy is also tired. Yet I doubt they’re giving their commanders endless excuses.”
“I understand,” Holk said, frowning. “Yet we both know that the defense is an inherently stronger form of —”
“Are these yet more excuses?” Mansfeld asked. “Must I search elsewhere for a commander to do as I order?”
“No, sir,” Holk said. The red spots on his cheeks burned a deeper color. “You have given me stiff tasks. I need help in order to accomplish them in your timeframe.”
Mansfeld stared at the untidy general. One of the buttons in his uniform had been left undone— unbelievable.
“Sir,” Holk said. He touched the paper of needed supplies. Mansfeld hadn’t picked it up, so it still lay on the table. Holk’s frown deepened, and he blinked several times. “Sir,” he said, and he seemed to gather resolve. “I would like to make a suggestion, and I wish you would hear me out.”
Mansfeld hesitated before nodding. He understood that Army Group A had taken losses from battle, from fatigue and from wear. He read the reports. Since the beginning of the campaign, the army group had lost a quarter of its strength. That still left it with nearly 700,000 effectives, as compared to the Americans. In truth, Holk likely had 350,000 actual soldiers. The GD force multipliers gave it the higher rate. The defenders outnumbered him, but Holk had the greater weight of machines and firepower.
The general picked up the paper and refolded it as he spoke. “The Toronto defenders are still more than gadflies. If fact, they act as Malta did against Rommel in WWII. The Desert Fox desperately needed the supplies shipped from Italy to North Africa. The Malta air force sank too many Axis freighters along their way south.”
“I’m familiar with the military history of World War II,” Mansfeld said.
“Of course, sir,” Holk said. “Before I finish in Hamilton and break through to London, let me knock out the Toronto defenders with a final massed assault. They have troublesome artillery, spot for the Americans farther back and they keep pounding my various supply routes, causing too great an attrition rate. They raid, as well.”
“I understand,” Mansfeld said.
Holk nodded. “Instead of bypassing them, let me concentrate and destroy the stronghold once and for all. Then, with the way cleared and without any distractions, I will be in London in three or four days.”
“Two days to annihilate everything in Toronto?” Mansfeld asked.
“Yes. That sounds right.”
And then four days to reach London?” Mansfeld asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s six days,” Mansfeld said, “a net saving of only a single day, as I want you at London in a week.”
“A day faster, clear supply routes and the elimination of a troublesome stronghold,” Holk said. “Either that, sir, or give the Toronto holdouts to Zeller to eliminate. We must get rid of them as fast as possible.”
“That’s General Zeller to you,” Zeller said. “And I do not want to take care of your problems. I’m having enough of a headache getting my forces ready for the amphibious assault.”
“You’re far from launching the assault yet,” Holk said. “It will likely be a week before any GD formation is ready to cross Lake Erie. More like nine days at the soonest. For all our sakes, we must clear out Toronto now.”
“Listen to me, both of you,” Mansfeld said, his mind made up. “General Holk, you will destroy the Toronto Pocket. That is your first priority. You will clear the defenders and open the way for full movement. Then you will bring everything to bear against Hamilton and rush through to London and then Detroit.
“General Zeller,” Mansfeld said. “You will continue with your war games and ready Twelfth Army for the great jump across the Great Lakes. I want your soldiers ready to commit mayhem once they reach the farther shores.”
Zeller nodded.
“At the moment the load is now on you, General,” Mansfeld said, speaking to Holk. “I will accept no excuses or delays.”
“I will need priority on supplies,” Holk said.
“You may be right,” Mansfeld said. “I will look into that.” He would look into it, but Holk would get what he would get. He studied the two men. They were unalike, but they were both drivers. They both made the men under them fight, although through different styles of command.
“Have I made myself clear on these issues, gentlemen?”
“Yes, sir,” Zeller said. And it seemed that it was all he could do to keep from smirking at Holk.
Mansfeld understood that he’d sided with Zeller in this. Holk had done splendid work, but the decisive attack would be Zeller’s thrust into New York State and through the top of Pennsylvania.
“General Holk?” Mansfeld asked.
The general nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, in a quieter voice. “I understand and will obey your directives.”
Mansfeld stood and the two generals stood. He still had much to do. He shook hands, took their salutes and
