message requesting information that the Tenth Corps staff had no need to accumulate or track. The Tenth Corps staff, which had been quite happy to operate as an independent entity, free from the curse of modern communications that allowed higher headquarters to talk to practically anyone, soon found itself in danger of being paralyzed by these requests.
All these requests came on top of the need to deal with the current battle, the drafting of new plans that would incorporate other American units coming into the theater, and the necessity of moving every twelve to twenty-four hours. When faced with the imperatives of dealing with the current battle and preparing for the next, the staff of the Tenth Corps, almost to a man, ignored the requests for information and the advice from Washington. When this happened, the well-meaning Washington staff officer informed his commander, who had tasked him to get the information, that the Tenth Corps was not cooperating. The higher-ranking officer in Washington in turn sent a message to a higher-ranking staff officer on the Tenth Corps staff repeating the request. The higher-ranking officer in Germany, with no more time to deal with outside requests than his subordinate, did as his subordinate had done; he ignored the request. Back in Washington this started a whole new chain of calls, message generation, etc., until finally almost all requests for information were being addressed to General Malin himself. It was a system gone berserk, and Malin intended to stop it.
He had to, for important orders and information were being crowded off the communications channels by mindless correspondence. Operation En Passant, a directive signed by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff himself, had been lost in the flood of lesser messages. It wasn't until the Chairman called Malin and asked for Malin's opinion on the operation that Malin, who had still not seen the directive and was therefore caught off guard, began to appreciate the seriousness of the communications glut. Even Malin's chief of operations, Brigadier General Jerry Prentice, was unaware of Operation En Passant. A quick search found that the message was still waiting patiently in an electronic computer queue in Washington for its turn to be bounced off a satellite and down to the Tenth Corps.
Unable to apply the normal planning procedures, Malin, Prentice, and selected staff officers came together, quickly worked out their end of Operation En Passant, and then scattered throughout the corps area to personally issue the necessary orders to units that would play. Prentice, the senior officer involved, had himself gone to the most important Tenth Corps participant, Company A, 1st Ranger Battalion, 77th Infantry.
Without knocking, Jerry Prentice strolled into Malin's office and took a chair next to Malin's desk. 'I almost didn't find them.'
Big Al, looking for any reason to stop reading the drivel that overwhelmed his desk, smiled and eased back in his seat. 'Map reading a little rusty, Jerry?'
Prentice shook his head. 'No, the grids were right on. Couldn't have been any better. The problem was that they were too well hidden.' Knowing that his commander appreciated a good story every now and then to help break the stress and strain of command, Prentice leaned back in his seat, accepted a cup of coffee from Malin's aide who had suddenly appeared as if by magic, and related to him his problems and observations. 'The grid for Ilvanich's assembly area turned out to be in the center of a large abandoned warehouse complex just outside of town here. My driver and I came to the most obvious entrance but found it was blocked by a large disabled truck. So we went around the corner and found another entrance. It too was blocked. Doubling back, we went around the third side of the complex and, guess what?'
'It was blocked.'
Prentice, seeing Big Al was enjoying hearing about Prentice's trials and tribulations, slapped his knee with one hand. 'That's right. How'd you know? Anyway, we stopped and looked at the map and the warehouse complex. Now the fourth side of the warehouse butted right up against a wooded area that showed no access to any main road or the rail lines. That's why I didn't try that side. But seeing no way in from any of the roads, I decided, what the hell. We parked the humvee and I walked along the fence of the?'
'You walked? One of my staff officers got out? I don't believe this!'
He was definitely enjoying this, Prentice thought. This was the first time in almost a week that Big Al had actually laughed. So Prentice went on with his story. 'Yes, sir. I walked. Read about that once. Seems the Army used to do that all the time. Anyhow, I started walking along the fence, and I found a section that looked like it had been cut, then wired back. Turning to the woods, I couldn't see any tire marks, but I could see a forest trail several meters inside the tree line. Going back to the fence, I shook the chainlink and tried to force my way in. I was about to succeed when I heard the bolt of a machine gun slide back, followed by a low, solemn 'Halt, who goes there?' '
'So what did ya do?'
'I did, sir, what any self-respecting general officer would do. I froze in place. Don't forget, these were rangers I was dealing with. After a minute or so, when the ranger had finished having his fun watching a general officer stand perfectly still while trying to keep from shitting his pants, a sergeant wearing an American Army parka, German Army field pants, and boots from God knows where came up to the fence and asked me for the password.'
'Don't tell me, don't tell me, you forgot the password.'
Prentice shook his head. 'Sir, I never knew the password. That's my driver's job. Anyway, I'm standing there, hands on the fence, feet spread apart, waiting for the sergeant to do something while his sentinel, hidden God knows where, trains a loaded gun on me, when Ilvanich comes up. Now he's wearing a Russian Army field cap, a German Army parka, American camouflage trousers, fur-lined boots, and is carrying a shotgun that he got from God knows where in the crook of his arm. He comes up to me, stands face-to-face, and asks, in perfect German,
By now, Big Al had a grin that ran from ear to ear. 'I would have loved to be there. It does my heart good to see a general reminded every now and then that they too are human.'
'Well, if you'd been there, I have no doubt that you'd have been hanging on to the fence next to me. I finally convinced Ilvanich that I was the real thing, after taking out my wallet, laying it on the ground, stepping back ten meters, which by the way put me into the woods, and waiting there till they checked my wallet for ID.'
'Well, Jerry, I would just like to say I'm glad there's still someone else besides me in this corps that knows how to handle general officers.'
'Well,' Prentice continued, 'they finally let me in, escorted me to this warehouse where they're set up, and then offered me a breakfast of fresh bread, hot wurst, and cold beer, compliments of the German Army. You know, those guys eat better than we do. Anyhow, while I was there I didn't see a single soldier dressed the same way or any American Army vehicles. And there was a detail painting new bumper markings on their trucks, getting ready to deal with the 1st Panzer Division.'
'The morale of the soldiers, no doubt, was excellent.'
Prentice nodded. 'They were alert, appeared to be well rested, clean, and animated. Every weapon I saw was clean, properly lubricated, and handled with respect. Except for the ungodly uniform combinations, they were the best-looking troops I've seen in this corps in the past two weeks.'
Malin got serious now. 'Doesn't surprise me in the least. They're a good unit and they've got a great record. They have been given some of the dirtiest jobs and pulled every one off brilliantly. And when we've left them on their own, they've gone out and pulled off some really incredible stunts, every one of which has been of immense material benefit to us and served to shake up the Germans. And best of all, they've done it without the loss of a single man.'
The smile on Prentice's face disappeared after Malin's last comment. Seeing the change in mood, Big Al also dropped his smile, looking down at the edge of his desk instead. Both men knew that the mission they had just assigned to Ilvanich and the rangers of Company A would be even under ideal circumstances a bloodbath. Prentice finally broke the silence. 'After Ilvanich had assembled his senior leaders, I laid out the maps of the weapons storage site, the surrounding area, and the operations graphics. As I briefed them on the mission, no one said a word. When I finished, everyone, to a man, looked at Ilvanich and he looked at them. Finally he looked over to me and said, 'It shall be done.' There were no questions, no complaints, no sign of fears or doubts, no false heroics. Just Ilvanich's simple statement.'
Leaning back in his seat as far as it would go, Malin folded his hands over his stomach and mused. 'I wonder if those brilliant minds back in Washington, the ones who dream this stuff up, would issue the orders they do if they had to deliver them to the men expected to carry them out, face-to-face, like you did.'
'Of course they would, sir. As long as there are young men in this world willing to accept orders from old
