Shortfall to Equilibrium

By Lloyd Martin

A Wessex helicopter in Malaya carries a torpedo. Miles from the sea, the pilot is asked what it is for - 'Gardening, old boy.'
Steele looked puzzled, so the pilot explained - 'If dropped from above 2,000 feet it can clear enough trees for me to land.'
Agent Steve Steele then went on to train on low-level atom bombers in Germany, training that will come in very useful later.
'When the elements are not conducive, the shortfall to equilibrium is made up with skill, confidence and experience.'
When Steele gets whisked off to Malmo with Lt Lennox Bird they have no clue as to how far this will take them.
Then Lt Bird is captured, and flown to Riga.
There follows a sea battle during which the Russians use an ex-Kreigmarine schnell-boat and crew from WW 2.
The Russians have devised a plan to acquire the latest American ICBM with warheads, but they lose it in the Baltic.
There is then a race to salvage it, resulting in an underwater fight.
The method of delivery planned for the atomic warhead is original to say the least - the invention of a machine the size of a naval destroyer travelling at 300 mph, the Ekranoplan. This is so innovative it is to be displayed in New York harbour where a mysterious crate is to be unloaded.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lloyd Martin
• Release date: Nov 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005764852

Lloyd Martin

Worked for BAe for 20 years on Lightning (XN726), Canberra (Venezuela), Jaguar, Tornado. Went to be professional artist specialising in military aircraft. Finished work to nurse wife, during which time I began writing the first series of books: the Coniston Fowler trilogy. Since then I have written a trilogy of novellas about mans first landing on Mars, and a set of books of a James Bond type.

Book preview

Shortfall to Equilibrium

Shortfall to Equilibrium

A novel by

Lloyd R Martin

Copyright © 2013 by Lloyd R Martin

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

No reproduction is allowed without permission.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means; electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, MP3, MP4, or otherwise, without permission in writing, from the author Lloyd R Martin.

Chapter One

The 1960’s

Those were the days when geo-political problems in the Far East were dealt with quietly; like Malaysia for instance:-

Malaya 1965. Operation Claret

Captain Steve Steele jumped down from the dark grey Sikorsky-Westland S-55 Whirlwind. As he turned back to the helicopter he saw that it was carrying a homing torpedo slung in a recess under the belly of the machine.

‘And just what are you going to do with that?’ he asked the pilot as he descended the six steps down from the cockpit.

‘Gardening old boy. If dropped from above 2,000 feet it can clear enough trees for me to land.’

Steele made his way to what looked like an indigenous hut made out of local produce.

Inside the hut, known as regional headquarters, was laid out a map with so little detail as to make the gathered military men to wonder if this was to be any use at all.

‘Whose turn is it to dry the dishes?’ Steele joked. ‘I have seen more detailed maps in a school Atlas.’

‘That is just where it came from.’ Came a voice from behind him.

As Steele turned he saw the imposing figure of Captain David Howard Kennet MC and bar. His shock of pure white hair made his complexion look even more ruddy than it already was.

‘The salient features on here are the two rivers here, and this short bit of shore. The rest is just jungle. What is of interest to you gentlemen, are the details I am about to put in.’

The assembled group was only five soldiers. Steele did not recognise any of them; some did not wear insignia or badges of rank.

‘But first I think I had better do the introductions.’ Dave Kennet was Army through and through, and it was customary always to introduce people to each other before a meeting begins. But these people were all Special Forces, so the introductions were a little different.

‘Going round from my left: Dave SAS, Steele SBS, Jimmy SBS, Blondie RM, Seb SAS.’

This group was therefore representing the Special Air Service, the Special Boat Service, and the Royal Marines

The assembled men then began with comments like:

‘Pleased to meet you’ and

‘My pleasure, dear boy.’ There was even one

‘At your service.’ Which was quickly followed by

‘Two sugars and the handle on that side if you please.’

‘What we have here is a major insurrection by the North Kalimantan National Army. According to Intel they are approaching Brunei town. We sent a couple of Belvederes over at 5,000 feet to have a look. In gaps in the clouds all they could see were three build-ups; here, here and here.’ The Captain made three crosses on the almost blank map.

‘We intend to drop in three teams further upstream with boats. Your objective is to harry and harass the enemy. Contact is expected, but we just don’t know how strong these forces are. It is your job to find out.’

‘How many do you want in each team, sir?’ asked Jimmy.

‘No more than five. There just isn’t room on the Whirlwind for more with a boat.’

Dave from the SAS and Jimmy from the SBS were paired up, Blondie and Seb became part of another team, that left Steele to be leader of the third team.

When they left the tent they met up with men from all branches of the armed forces.

Steele was introduced to two other men, John-Michael, an ex-Legionnaire known as JM, no one knows his surname, he says it is Foch, but there has never been proof of this. The other team member was Para Dickie Hampton. These three men were to take on whoever, or whatever they encountered in the jungle.

They went up country in a Royal Navy Whirlwind helicopter with their greenish brown inflatable dingy.

Landing was not an option in the heavy jungle, so the boat was dropped, then the small team absailed down ropes to the muddy bank alongside the brown river they will be using to navigate the country.

The SBS light craft approached the far bank of the river. If you were watching this on TV you would think the sound had gone. There was not a sound. Steve Steele was first out of the vessel. Even though the water came up to his knees he made no noise as his boots touched the muddy bottom and he gripped the mooring rope with one hand and his GPMG with the other. First one, then the other of the two soldiers in the boat disembarked into the water. The water lapping at the inflatable made little sound as it was carefully dragged into the mangroves. They stood watch on either side of Captain Steele as he hid the camouflaged boat behind the all-encompassing greenery. Still without a sound being issued the three men moved off into the jungle. In this jungle there were no maps, no roads, even the tracks were haphazard to say the least. A new track laid down last week could be overgrown by next week. So it was very much a matter of dead reckoning from the compass combined with any recent helicopter observations. And it was this very intelligence that they were now acting upon. All they knew was that there was an enemy incursion about half a mile on a course of 085. The enemy in this case is the North Kalimantan National Army, (TNKU). They had begun an insurgence, known as the Brunei Revolt. The British did not know that there were only about 4,000 of them, and they were very lightly armed and poorly trained. The TNKU’s objective was to Capture the Sultan of Brunei, seize the oil fields and take hostages.

The SBS soldiers communicated by hand signals, then moved off in a direction indicated by Captain Steele who had to keep referring to his compass to ensure that they were an the right bearing, the jungle can be very disorientating. The skilled fieldcraft learned by these men came during their training to become Special Forces members now came to the fore. It is not easy to travel through dense jungle quietly, but these men move silently – in keeping with their motto ‘By Strength and Guile’.

As they edged slowly forwards all senses were on full alert. They never use soap to wash, the enemy can smell ‘perfumed’ soap from 100 yards. When visibility can be as little as 10 feet, this gives them an edge. The three men were more or less in a straight line with Steele in the lead. Next came JM. His job was to keep watch on both sides at once. ‘Dickie’ Hampton brought up the rear. He was responsible for the trail; they must leave no trace that they had been there to prevent ambush from behind. There was no need to try to remember their route, the compass would take them back if they needed to return the same way. Dickie also had to keep vigil to the rear just in case.

If he saw movement ahead Steele would give a hand signal to alert the others to it, then alter course slightly to come upon the possible contact with all three in a position to fire. Several animals cause practice of this manoeuvre on a regular basis.

After 40 minutes of this crouched patrolling they were surprised when the jungle seemed to explode all around them. Bullets were flying everywhere, hitting trees and slicing through leaves. The three men hit the deck and gave return fire immediately. It seemed as if the whole of the TNKU were on to them. But they soon realised that there was one machine gun and two or three rifles firing almost blind.

‘Dickie, see if you can outflank them.’ Steele called as he put down more covering fire. As he saw Dickie move off to the rear to begin his circling manoeuvre he jumped up and dived to his right firing the General Purpose Machine Gun at the same time. Then he ran away from their original position to take attention away from Dickie. JM also opened up with his own GPMG to give cover for his leader. Steele fell over the undergrowth and rolled on to his belly to continue firing at the machinegun. Then to the left he saw Dickie appear as he took the Indonesians by surprise. The Indonesians saw him just as a grenade landed in their midst and Dickie took cover. The resultant explosion sent three soldiers flying, the remainder were cut to ribbons by the fragmentation of the grenade.

The jungle fell quiet again. Dickie and Steele joined with JM.

‘Anyone hurt?’ Steele asked.

‘I’m OK.’, ‘Me too.’ Came the replies, ‘you Skipper?’

‘I’m OK.’

‘I think we had better move away from this bloody mess.’ Steele said in a whisper. He consulted his compass. With a simple hand signal he indicated the direction he thought they had better move in, and off they went in the same vein they had before.

The British Special Forces soldiers moved off 90o to their original course. Steele led them in a gentle curve to the left, so that they could regain their original course in due time.

Soon they came upon an enemy position directly in front of them. With dense undergrowth to either side they were left with little choice but to halt because there was no moving forwards in this dense greenery. Just as Steele, JM and Dickie were preparing to assault the group the distinctive crack of an AK47 came from their rear. Steele took to the bushes to the left, JM and Dickie dived for cover to the right. Using hand signals Steele and the other two established that the firing had come from a trail that ran parallel to the one they were on. Then Steele had an idea. Carefully he moved to a certain spot on the trail; neither of the enemy positions could see him, and he could not see either of the enemy. But he knew the position up front would still be there because it was a static post, the other he had to guess that they would be in the same position as he jumped up shouting and firing at the static post before diving for cover again. The result was that the soldiers on duty, already alerted by the shooting, let loose all they had in the direction of where Steele had jumped up. Of course, Steele was nowhere to be found by the hail of bullets that flew his way. Bullets flying through jungle do not stop until they hit something solid. In this case the solid objects they found were the seven-man patrol that had fired on Steele and his men. An officer of the TNKU stood up in the observation post and raised his binoculars in the direction of the fall of shot. There was no movement, so he concluded that the immediate threat was dealt with. He congratulated his team just as three grenades sailed into his position from three different directions. Three explosions within two seconds covered the position in smoke as two Brits and a Frenchman reversed their pincer manoeuvre in silence.

The small group was now travelling almost due north towards the coast. It was time to avoid action, it would not only bog them down, but it would bring them unwanted attention. They had a job to do further on. As night began to draw in the patrol found a safe place to rest, they knew the night would be very dark, there would be no moon, and the jungle is almost impossible to travel silently in under such conditions.

Captain Steele volunteered for first sentry stag, then JM for two hours, leaving the last stag to Dickie Hampton.

There is no ‘first light’ at dawn in the jungle, like there is in more temperate zones. There is pitch dark, the sun rises, but has no effect in the dense jungle at first. It rises quickly close to the equator, and the light bursts through the green canopy like a light being switched on.

These Special Forces men knew that they had to be switched on themselves before the light hit them.

Upon moving off again the patrol found that the ground was rising slightly, but noticeably. By 0930 they were some 350 feet above the start point. Every now and then they could see glimpses of the South China Sea. When the trees thinned out a little and the ground began to fall away Steve Steele ordered a stop and posted his men as sentries. He scanned the area through binoculars. There was no doubt that this was an important military base being used by the TNKU. Steele dipped silently behind cover before he was spotted – they did not want to mix it with this large force. JM was carrying the radio, which Steele now switched on.

‘Jupiter to Tomahawk. Jupiter to Tomahawk. Green 453, I repeat, Green 453. Over’

‘Tomahawk to Jupiter. Roger Green 453, Green 453. Over and out.’

‘Jupiter out.’ With that Steele sat back and waited.

20 minutes later two dots appeared far to the left quite low in the sky. Steele knew what this meant.

‘We are in for a show now, boys.’

The dots drew nearer, but still made no sound. They began to take on the clear shape of Royal Navy Sea Vixens. The high tail and twin boom layout was unmistakable. By now they were almost in front of Steele and his crew, but still no sound.

‘They must be almost on the speed of sound.’ Noted Steele.

Whiffs of smoke emitted from below their wings as they let fly with hundreds of rockets, then the sound of approaching jets began to grow from the left. It is a natural reaction to look that way, but the men in the trees knew the sound was from the jets in front of them. Travelling at close to, or just above, the speed of sound the first thing the North Kalimantan National Army knew of the attack was when rockets began exploding in their midst. The aircraft also dropped 500 lb. bombs onto the installation, thereby destroying all of the military base completely.

The twin-tailed heavy fighters returned to HMS Victory in the South China Sea.

Upon return to the UK Steele was called into the office of Sir John Rimmer on Horseguards Parade.

Sir John was born in Scotland in 1920, brought up a Scot in England, he attended Cheltenham College, then went on to the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich before joining the Royal Artillery on Operation Torch. This was the invasion of North Africa at Tunisia. The operation was a joint allied effort, but many forces were dressed in American uniforms to make it look like an American action. This was Sir John’s first experience of military deception. On the drive through North Africa he copped an unfortunate wound, and was returned to hospital in Cosford. Upon release from hospital Sir John was sent to the Staff College at Camberley. This set him up for a role in Military Intelligence under the Ministry of Economical Affairs. Then came work with the fledgling SO2.

He sat opposite Steele in the embassy secure room,

‘Ever flown a fast jet, Steele?’

‘I was cleared to fly the Twin Pin (Scottish Aviation Twin Pioneer) out in Malaya, sir. But modern jets, no.’

‘Well, here’s the plan. I am going to send you to HMS Falcon at Hal Far, Malta for a crash course on flying the Canberra. Don’t take the title too literally. ‘

Sir John stopped to light his pipe.

‘Upon completion of this course you will be promoted to Commander and transferred to M.I.6, Navy Branch. They want someone to work with the RAF in Germany; you will be posted to RAF Germany as a Squadron Leader where you will complete your conversion training to become a Canberra bomber pilot. The boys in blue are preparing to toss-bomb atom bombs into the Soviet Union. Do you know about the toss-bombing procedure?’

‘Toss-bombing? Sounds a bit precarious to me.’

‘The Canberra is sometimes referred to as the electronic bomber because of the advanced weapons release systems it employs. It is this suite of electronic equipment and the sheer performance of the jet that makes it possible to release a bomb in a tossing manoeuvre from a high speed climb with a high degree of accuracy.’

‘I don’t see where I come into this, sir.’

‘They want you to monitor what is going on over there. The last thing we want is for the RAF to start a war on its own.’

‘Is that likely, sir?’

‘RAF Germany is still part of the RAF, but not entirely, and there are people in the intelligence community who are worried that the links to the higher echelons may not be good enough.’

‘I see. Well, if I can be of service.’

‘There is a Hastings flying out of Abingdon the day after tomorrow, here is some light reading for you on the way.’

With that Sir John passed a copy of the pilot’s notes for the Canberra to Steele. They shook hands and parted.

The Hastings transport aircraft took Steele to RAF Wyton where they were flying the Canberra bomber. Here he would have a crash course in flying fast jets in preparation for his deployment to RAF Germany.

Chapter Two

RAF Bruggen, Germany, Three months later.

Going home was the last thing on Squadron Leader Steve Steele’s mind.

Airfields are nearly always windy. Even here in the middle of West Germany Steve Steele was being blown about on his bicycle as he pedalled along the perimeter track at RAF Bruggen. He had just been promoted to Squadron Leader, and transferred from England to 16 Squadron who were flying the English Electric Canberra B(I)8. As a newly-arrived, newly-promoted Squadron Leader, Steve had not yet had chance to sort out his transport needs, he would be getting a car soon, but right now he needed to get around the airfield, and an RAF bicycle was the means of choice around the station. RAF Bruggen is vast because jets need a lot of room. With a landing speed close to 100 mph, and weighing in at about 12 tons, Canberras need a lot of grass to run on to if something goes wrong. With a wingspan of 64 feet they need an area about the size of a football field to turn round.

The wind was coming at Steele from slightly to one side, but it felt as if he was battling into the teeth of a gale head on; occasionally the side effect of the wind would give him a big blast, sending him wobbling across the tarmac. He was riding a standard RAF bike, this made it heavy going too; these machines had wide tyres, you could ride across wet grass without sinking into the soft ground. But at this moment Squadron Leader Steve Steele had his head down over the handlebars, the bottom of his number one uniform trousers tucked into his socks, black, issue airmen for the use of. His well-shone black rubber-soled standard issue shoes were gripping onto the rubber-faced pedals as he pushed and pounded to maintain forward movement, direction and balance. His Officer’s cap was crammed into his jacket, he hoped not to make the peak dull because of the perspiration. A quick jerk of the handlebars countered a quick drop in wind pressure from the right.

‘All jolly good practice in wind prediction.’

He thought to himself. Steele was about to turn 21, and his father had promised to buy him a sailing boat. Although he would not be able to use it whilst on duty in Germany, Steve knew it would be waiting for him upon his return to the UK.

As he turned the bike to the left he saw his new Squadron Leader’s bars on his sleeve. This filled him with pride, and disquiet; although he was actually in the Royal Navy he had been given such an elaborate cover story he wondered why there should be need of such a fastidious level of detail. According to the treatise, he joined up in 1963 after learning to fly with the University Air Squadron at Woodvale, which is near Southport. This was convenient for him whilst attending University in Liverpool. By the time he got his degree he was qualified to fly Chipmunk and Bulldog aircraft solo, and had excelled in cross-country navigation. After basic training at RAF Brampton, the fictitious Pilot Officer Steele was posted to RAF Finningley to continue navigation training on Beagle and Valetta aircraft before being posted to RAF Valley for conversion to fast jets.

Steele’s first posting on Canberras was to RAF Marham where he surpassed all training targets to prove himself to be an above average Canberra pilot. This is why he was promoted to Squadron Leader and posted to a front line Squadron only minutes flying time from the Soviet Bloc border.

As the pounding, perspiring pilot passed the Quick Reaction Alert pens he saw RAF groundcrewmen pointing at him and shouting. But he could not hear them because of the howling wind. It was not uncommon for RAF personnel to be seen cycling around the base, but he knew he must have cut an unusual sight, being in his number one uniform. Two of the big bombers stood in the QRA pens, these were on standby and were armed with nuclear bombs in the event of hostilities as the pointed end of the NATO deterrent.

Last curve now as Steele moved more into the head wind and he pushed harder, he was now able to keep to the dotted line down the middle of the peri-track. He could see people around the dispersal area. They were pointing at him and waving too. What is it with these people?

The Squadron Leader prepared to turn left towards the hangars when he reached dispersal. He let the bike drift towards the left side of the track he was on. Just then the clouds parted and a giant shadow covered him as a massive wing tip fuel tank glided past his head. This was attached to the Canberra bomber that had been taxiing behind him.

Chapter Three

1966

Think what the world was like in 1966.

29 nuclear tests. That is 29 nuclear bombs being exploded which included; 9 by the USA, 9 by the USSR, 6 by France and 2 by China. As well as this, there was the partial meltdown of the Fermi nuclear reactor in Detroit.

But technology was not all bad; the space race was well under way with the Soviet Lunar 9 making the first soft landing on 31st of