The memory of the past terrorized him. In his time he had obtained “confessions” from hundreds of political commissars. After they had achieved the rank he now held, few of them died in bed of old age.
NKVD spies were all around him, watched his every move, monitored his words, speculated on his thoughts. Had they detected his secret yearning for peace? Had they reported to Stalin? He moaned as the fires in him flamed.
The next morning Azov fell back on years of experience to cover his fears.
Captain Brusilov admonished him for allowing the Soviet Union to get tricked into the labor election. “It is obvious,” Brusilov said, “the German people don’t know what is good for them so their votes are meaningless. Otherwise, they would have never allowed Hitler.”
Azov was further berated for failure to drive the West out of Berlin, but as he spoke he revealed that there was further use for the commissar. Azov breathed easier, knowing he would live a while longer.
“Our sacred mission is to collapse morale of the West before the Foreign Ministers’ Conference next month. The Western ministers must arrive in Berlin realizing that it is a Soviet city.”
Any last pretenses for the benefit of the German people that four-power unity remained was destroyed by a massive assault on the West with the Americans coming in for the heaviest battering. The People’s Radio and the Russian newspapers spearheaded the drive with the planting of rumors and the hurling of falsehoods.
THE NEW ARCHITECTS OF FASCISM, THE ILLEGAL COLONEL HAZZARD AND THE CORRUPT GENERAL HANSEN!
Stories were printed about their “sordid” past and their current secret work on behalf of the rebirth of Nazism. Ugly cartoons depicting them as savages and animals found a daily place on the editorial pages.
SS WAR CRIMINALS FIND SAFETY AND REWARDS IN THE WESTERN ZONE!
NAZI BEASTS FILL WESTERN GOVERNMENTS!
MURDERERS RUN GERMAN POLICE IN AMERICAN ZONE!
IMPERIALISTS USE NAZI OFFICERS TO REBUILD SS FOR A WAR OF REVENGE!
After each session of the Kommandatura, Nikolai Trepovitch printed his version of the proceedings in a column which carried such headlines:
WEST BLOCKS HOT MEALS FOR GERMAN WORKERS!
HAZZARD DELAYS HOUSING PROGRAM!
WEST ADMITS IT IS AGAINST UNIFICATION!
In the Soviet Sector of Berlin, thousands upon thousands of signs covered the walls. Bombed-out buildings wore red banners reading:
THIS BUILDING WAS DESTROYED BY AMERICAN BOMBS. IT MUST NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.
The Soviet Union advanced the theory that their Zone of Germany had selected communism and their Germans were therefore redeemed and had purged themselves of guilt in the Nazi era. On the other hand, the West which now fostered Nazism stood guilty for all of Hitler’s doings.
The newspapers carried front-page stories and photographs of lynchings in the South, child labor in factories, Chicago gangster murders, race riots, skid row bums, labor strife, Hollywood orgies, poverty-stricken Oklahoma farmers, American backing of South American dictatorships, and oriental war lords. The Western decadence of Henry Miller and boogie-woogie, prostitution in New York, and the striptease joints of New Orleans all came in for special beratings.
This attack was paralleled by stories depicting happy Soviet workers on their collective farms building the socialist future. Social realism in art and literature was displayed alongside the corruptions of Picasso and Hemingway.
The stage was elaborately set in Berlin for a move on the West before the Foreign Ministers’ Conference.
Chapter Twenty-nine
A NEW PLAYGROUND HAD been bulldozed from a rubble-strewn square in Zehlendorf. A baseball team of German boys, trained by GI’s under the youth program, played a team of Americans from the garrison families. Neal Hazzard umpired.
The ball ground was surrounded by curious Germans. In the second inning Hazzard called a particularly bad and obvious decision against the Americans to keep the score within bounds.
The American boys ganged around him screaming in protest. Both German team and spectators were astonished at this defiance of authority ... against Colonel Hazzard, no less. Fortunately, Colonel Hazzard won the argument and the game resumed.
Between innings Lieutenant Colonel O’Sullivan drove up in a staff car. “The Russians have seized the Railroad Administration Building.”
Hazzard looked baffled. It was deep inside the American Sector. “Hansen know about this?”
“He’s on the way to Headquarters now.”
Hazzard appointed an umpire to replace him, announced his regrets, and went off with Sean, speeding directly to Hansen’s office.
When they entered, General Hansen had just concluded unsuccessful attempts to reach Marshal Popov and General Trepovitch. The Russians were “not available.” Colonel Mark Parrott, commander of the American garrison, was present. He told them a company of Russian infantry crossed into the American Sector a half hour earlier, evicted all the German workers from the Railroad Administration Building, ran up a Red flag and stood guard.
The three officers looked to the general; there was no time to procrastinate. Either they had to respond immediately or accept it as an accomplished feat.
“Move in your troops, Mark, cut the area off. Don’t shoot first, but if they try to send in relief, open fire.”
Neal Hazzard beamed.
The staff car bearing him and Sean O’Sullivan barreled through the streets, sirens screaming. It slowed at Friedenau Platz, where a crowd had gathered. Sean ordered everyone off the streets, then walked toward the building with Hazzard. They were blocked by a submachine-gun-toting Red Army soldier at the door.
“I want to see the officer in charge,” Hazzard said.
The soldier shrugged and pointed the gun at them. They turned and recrossed the street. In a matter of moments Mark Parrott pulled up with several truckloads of soldiers and quickly dispersed them so that the building was cut off.
Inside, Colonel Igor Karlovy watched the American movement on the street. He picked up a telephone to call Russian Headquarters. The line seemed dead. In another instant an aide confirmed that the Americans had cut the telephone wires.
“Colonel Hazzard is approaching the building again. This time he has a dozen soldiers around him.”
“I will see him, myself,” Igor said. He went downstairs and stood at the entrance. Neal Hazzard told his escort to stand fast and walked with Sean to the Russian.
“I know him. Let me talk to him, Neal.”
“Go ahead.”
“Afternoon, Colonel Karlovy,” Sean said. “What are you people up to?”
“This is the property of the Soviet Union!”
“It’s two miles inside the American Sector. How do you figure?”
“The location is only a technicality.”
“Go on.”
“The Kommandatura agreement states that all railroad operations in Brandenburg Province are to be run by the Soviet Union.”
“That is correct.”
“This building is the administration headquarters of the railroad system and therefore legally within Soviet jurisdiction.”
“In a pig’s ass,” Neal Hazzard cut in. “Here’s your situation. No one is going to enter this area. You are, however, permitted to leave and return to the Russian Sector. If you want to stay here, you can starve to death. That’s your business. If there is any attempt to bring troops in, you’re going to get blasted. My people have orders to open fire at the sight of Russian troops.” Hazzard left.
Igor smiled at Sean. “So, we meet again. I see you have come up in the world. Well ... one day you seize American Headquarters, one day we seize the railroad building. It balances out.”
“There’s a difference,” Sean said.