brigades would be rushed to that area.
“How do you plan to stop them?” Perry asked.
The colonel seemed a bit put off by the question, and began answering in Vietnamese even before the translator translated.
“We will fight with conviction for our homeland,” he said, using English.
“I know,” said Perry. “But the rounds in the T-55s aren’t going to penetrate the Chinese armor.”
“We have strategies.”
“What are they?” asked Christian.
The Vietnamese were not completely unrealistic, Zeus thought; there must be some reason for their confidence. He took a guess at it.
“How many
The Boltoks were missiles that could be fired from the T-55’s gun; they would also fit in the 100 mm smoothbores of the ancient SU-100s the Vietnamese had as well. They were relatively expensive missiles, manufactured by Russia. As far as Zeus or anyone else in the States had known until now, Vietnam did not possess any.
The Vietnamese colonel turned pale as Zeus’s comments were translated. He turned to Trung.
“The major is, as always, knowledgeable and prescient,” said Trung from the end of the table. “You will understand, Major, that the existence of this weapon is, of course, a state secret.”
“I do understand,” said Zeus. “But I also have to tell you, they’re not necessarily going to stop the Type 99s. The latest versions can penetrate armor to 850 millimeters. The tanks you’re coming up against are thicker than that.”
“We will adapt to the realities of the battlefield,” said Trung. “The difficulty is to slow the tanks down. Our forces need time to prepare.” “General, if I might interject,” said Perry. “We can be of most use if we know exactly what the situation is. Not informing us of your weapons is your prerogative, but it does hamper our ability to help you.”
“An oversight,” said Trung.
The meeting resumed. The Vietnamese colonel outlined a plan of harassment and delay, hoping to stall the Chinese drive long enough to launch a counterattack. Christian offered a few technical points. Zeus listened silently, taking stock of the Vietnamese. Not telling them about the antitank weapons was counterproductive and petty. More important, though, it indicated that some of the Vietnamese on Trung’s staff didn’t trust them.
Ridiculous at this point, but there it was.
The Boltoks alone wouldn’t overcome the Chinese offensive. There were just too many Z99s. After the first blow, the Chinese would adapt their tactics. They’d concentrate on the T-55s if they hadn’t already. In a war of attrition, the Vietnamese would inevitably lose.
They moved on to the other fronts: the preparation for the amphibious attack, which the Vietnamese now believed would come near Hue if it came at all, and the dagger that was stuck deep in its western side. In both cases the Vietnamese seemed to be optimistic, placing a great deal of faith in the ability of the reserve troops — the older men and women who formed what would be colloquially termed a home guard. The colonel spoke of guerilla attacks against Chinese pickets as if they were major victories. Blowing up a troop truck here and a depot there were certainly good for local morale, but they were pinpricks against the Chinese juggernaut.
Zeus suggested a spoiling attack against the Chinese before they moved across the swollen water in the west. If placed properly, it might provoke the Chinese into shifting their forces once more away from the offensive. But the Vietnamese didn’t have the troops to pull this off, and the colonel told him that they were quite content with their “defensive posture.”
The meeting lasted two hours, a relatively short time given the gravity of the situation and the amount that was discussed. Zeus began to look forward to his dinner with Dr. Anway.
He pictured her again, this time trying to replace the medical clothes with something more attractive.
“You have done us great service,” said Trung as the session closed. “We are deeply in your debt.”
Christian grinned like a stuffed pig.
“Thank you,” said Zeus.
Trung nodded at Perry, then left. The rest of the Vietnamese officers filed out.
“What’s up, General?” asked Zeus when they were alone.
“Trung wants to have a word,” he said. “He wants you and Christian to talk to his troops. It’s voluntary.”
“Sure.”
“He also wants to thank you personally. It’s the least he can do,” added Perry, with just the slightest hint of sarcasm. “Good work figuring out what they were thinking.”
“They don’t trust us, do they?”
“Not completely. How potent are the missiles?”
“Depends on how many they have. In the end…”
Perry nodded.
“I don’t know that we’re getting outside help,” he told him. “We may be it.”
Zeus had feared as much.
“They’ll get their asses kicked,” said Christian.
“Yes, Win, that does seem likely.”
“If the goal is to slow them down, they might let them get south a bit before attacking,” said Zeus. “The Chinese stop when they’re surprised — it’s a pattern. They get overconfident, then once they run into something they didn’t expect, they stop and look around. They’re really cautious.”
“What are you thinking?” asked Perry.
“Let them get down to Tien Yen. The armor moves quick — they’ll stretch out, the tanks ahead of the infantry units. Just like they did in the west. We make the attack behind the forward units. Hit them really hard.”
Zeus laid out his plan. They would concede territory initially, and at the end of day, the Chinese would be in control of Tien Yen and possibly farther south. But if things went well, that force would be cut off.
“But you give up Tien Yen,” said Perry.
“True.”
“Why would they stop there?” asked Christian. “If you’re going to hit them, why not get them at the border?”
“Because they expect resistance at the border, and all the way down to the city. It’s the unexpected that throws them. They don’t adapt quickly. That’s really the key. Their generals are too cautious.”
“Tell Trung,” said Perry. “And what he’s asking is purely voluntary. You’ve been through enough already. I’d send you home if I could spare you.”
“We are very grateful for your heroic efforts,” he told Zeus and Christian. “You have done much for the Vietnamese people.”
Zeus bowed his head slightly, in the Vietnamese way.
“Many of the commanders have heard of your achievements,” continued Trung. “If you were to speak to their troops before the battle, it would be a very good for them. Their bravery would be reinforced.”
“It would be an honor,” said Christian.
“Thank you, Major,” said Trung. He turned to Zeus. “Your wounds?”
“I’m fine,” said Zeus. “Sure, we’ll talk to your men. If it’ll help.”
“Major Chau will be your guide,” said Trung, nodding to the senior translator. “He will see to your needs.”
Trung started to leave.
“I did have an idea, General,” said Zeus. “A way that you might be able to slow the Chinese down for a while.”
Trung turned back to him. Their eyes met, as if the older man was studying the younger.
