Free Repulse: Europe at War 2062-2064 by Chris James Page A

Jewish-backed interests out of the world’s largest economy.  The US continued to support Israel financially as it had throughout the century of its existence, but local pressures on President Coll made Israel a politically difficult issue.
    On the morning of 6 February 2062, the Israeli Prime Minister, Uri Mendelberg, now in his sixth year of power, displayed a similar dismay and shock as other leaders of the democracies, edged with biting declarations that he’d anticipated the Caliphate would eventually attack the West in some form, sooner or later.  Records show that Mendelberg rapidly became boorish in his demands for an immediate and comprehensive counter-attack.  More measured voices, including Gen. Sir Terry Tidbury’s, advised caution in the face of an enemy who had shown a remarkable prescience and complete tactical superiority.  Mendelberg bitterly opposed the military logic of measured consideration before deciding the response.  The emergency meeting broke up in the early afternoon in general agreement that NATO and Europe faced a unique and specific threat which required appropriate preparation before any attempt to bring Turkey back into the family of nations could be mounted.  As Napier’s aide confided to his diary: ‘The boss worried that the attack on Turkey had completely unhinged Mendelberg.  As it turned out, it had, and he would bring the destruction of his own country down on his neck in punishment for not being able to cope.’
    As soon as the emergency meeting concluded, Mendelberg took matters into his own hands.  Irrespective of the balance of his mind, records show that Mendelberg enjoyed widespread support from key members of his cabinet and government.  This support also extended to the general population.  One of the handful of survivors, Ayala Salomon, at the time a twenty-eight-year-old nurse working at a hospital in the Holon district of Tel Aviv, later told the post-war US Congressional hearings: ‘Mendelberg knew we had to act, we had to defend ourselves, as we always had.  Whatever you might think now, however it turned out, at the time we believed we were doing the right thing.  We had to hit them before they hit us.  None of us could’ve realised the trap we walked into.’
    Many members of the Knesset hardly needed summoning for an emergency debate, held in-camera.  No records of the debate survive, but it is reasonable to assume that some dissenting voices may have been heard.  At some point, the decision was made not to consult Washington, but to proceed unilaterally.  This would merely compound this greatest of errors.  In a matter of hours, nuclear-armed attack ACAs were prepared and the Israeli military brought its substantial capabilities to full readiness.  The Israeli super AI at the centre of the country’s command systems was tasked specifically with ‘rendering Israel safe from assault by the Persian Caliphate’.  In truth, this had been its main objective since its inception; it only had to make final refinements to a well-established plan.  The super AI estimated the probability of the attack failing at a mere 1.37%.  It was enough.
    As with many other aspects of the war, in the following decades pro-Western historians have attempt to evidence more rational explanations for actions which, even without the benefit of hindsight, appear to have been wholly reckless.  However, apart from the preceding historical context, there is little to redeem Prime Minister Mendelberg.  Although Israeli moderates had corralled the more hawkish elements on the political right, the shadow cast by the Peace-Buffer Settlement debacle still denied the country any great sympathy.  The Second Caliph’s diplomacy and patience had made many see Israel as the aggressor; a rogue state in a new, peaceful Middle East.
    At 01.33 local time on the morning of Tuesday 7 February, the Israeli Air Force launched two hundred and fifty-six Nesher 101-C ACAs in five waves,