“Aren’t you coming to the trawler?”
“We need to finish up a few things. We’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Nazarbayev left the room.
Brigadier General Dimitri looked at Yevgeni, who was sitting at the table, both hands covering his head. He touched him gently on the shoulder.
“My good friend Yevgeni, I know exactly what you’re thinking. We have no choice. If it helps ease your conscience, please remember that fifty percent of the decision is down to me. It was a joint decision by the two of us.”
“Thank you for your support, Dimitri, but it’s almost unbearable, even with this fifty percent. He is a good man, the Kazakh officer. He is simply a very good man.”
Chapter 10
Svetlana, faithful private secretary to Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov, General Secretary of the Communist Party, the Head of State of the Soviet Union and the Commander in Chief of its Armed Forces, glanced at the large wall clock across from her desk. She got up and hurried to the General Secretary’s office.
“Gospodin Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov. I wish to remind you that the Minister of Defense, Marshal Budarenko, will arrive in five minutes’ time to see you.”
“Yes, I remember”, the Secretary replied, without lifting his eyes from the document he was reading.
Svetlana welcomed her uncle, Marshal Budarenko, with a broad smile. Her sharp senses detected right away that the Minister was in good spirits and in a much better mood than usual this morning. She led him to the General Secretary’s office, but before he went in, he pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the cheek. She let out a giggle. This is interesting, she thought. What’s causing this grumpy uncle of mine to feel so happy this early in the morning? Maybe today, for a change, there is a better chance than usual that his conversation with Gospodin Yermolov will be peaceful and produce a better outcome.
The Minister of Defense took his seat at the heavy oak desk across from his superior, and only then did the General Secretary finish reading the document and place it on the desk.
“Good morning to you, Mister Secretary.”
“Good morning, Minister. Am I correct in saying that your mood is better than usual this morning? Is there a particular reason for it? Please tell me, as it may also lift my own spirits.”
The General Secretary said this without expression. The Minister of
Defense smiled and made himself comfortable in the chair.
“It is a simply glorious day. The whole of Moscow is white and the sun is shining. But I am here to brief you on the progress of our deployment on the border of the German Democratic Republic.”
One of the female office workers entered the room, bowed her head slightly, and placed a silver tray with a teakettle and two glasses on the table. The two watched in silence until she left the room.
“I am listening, Marshal. Speak up.”
“For three days now we’ve been mobilizing our forces to the border areas of the German Democratic Republic. This is a huge logistical operation, and far from simple. We’ve been using trains, and I’ve commandeered almost every railroad engine and car from all corners of the country. What is delaying us a little is the fact that our trains travel across Poland only at nighttime. There are two reasons for this. One is that they don’t have too many railway systems and I don’t want to shut down their regular service lines during the day; not least because it would signal to the West that this is an especially urgent action. The second reason is that, of course, during the night, the Americans and their friends in NATO won’t be able to estimate the size of our forces, particularly as these are typical winter nights.”
“And how is the collaboration with the Poles? Do you want me to talk to someone who can expedite things?”
“No, Mister General Secretary. There is no need. They are collaborating exceptionally well. At night, no Polack train moves. They have cleared everything to make it one hundred percent available to us only.”
The General Secretary drank his tea and examined the face of his Minister of Defense.
“How long will this continue?”
“This is a tremendous logistical operation. It’s not only tanks; it also includes fuel, ordnance, supplies, logistical headquarters, full operational headquarters of brigades, divisions and armies. In short, vast masses. We shall complete most of the deployment within two or three days. But we’ll still need the trains to continue conveying supplies and equipment on an ongoing basis indefinitely.”
The General Secretary seemed ill at ease. He contracted his eyebrows and scratched his chin.
“I think we should get this done as soon as possible. I don’t think we can trust the Poles for long, especially after we enter Germany. After all, we’re not going there to entertain residents and parade our forces, right? When blood starts flowing, and there is no doubt that blood will be shed, Poland itself may start an insurgency in solidarity with their German brethren.”
“I don’t really think so”, the Minister of Defense replied. “Who will try raising his head in Poland when the Red Army has such a presence in its territory? That would be unthinkable.”
General Secretary Yermolov shifted his weight uneasily, seemingly not convinced by his Minister’s answer.
“In order for it to stay unthinkable, as you say, the operation in Germany must be swift, and with a minimum of casualties. If you can accomplish this, then the Americans and NATO will need less time to calm down.”
“Mister Secretary, regarding the Americans and NATO, I propose that you send the American President a conciliatory letter, explaining that this is business that we have with our sister states and that we have no aggressive intentions towards them. What do you think?”
The General Secretary took another sip from his cup of tea. He raised his eyebrows, and a hint of an ironic smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing. Marshal Budarenko; is this you? What happened? Has the tiger turned into a sheep?”
The Minister of Defense opted not to answer the General Secretary, and continued staring at him.
“By the way, dear Marshal, I think your idea of the letter to Washington is excellent, and that is exactly what I will be doing before the end of the day.”
The united states army European command headquarters was located in a large military base near the city of Frankfurt. The large conference room in the Operations Section was filled with the senior commanding officers of the United States forces stationed on European soil. Those with higher ranks took their seats in the first row of chairs, which was already filled, except for one empty chair at its center. The headrest on the chair bore the name Thomas C. Bell, and four stars were printed on it in gold. Along the row, the United States Army’s most senior officers were seated beside top U.S. Navy Admirals. George N. Kelly, Commander of the U.S. Air Forces European Air Command, based in Ramstein, also sat there in his blue uniform, with his pilot’s wings hardly visible above the rows of ribbons, somewhat aloof towards his green- and-white uniformed colleagues.
In the second row, an officer in different-looking formal attire was seated. He was NATO’s Liaison Officer to the United States Armed Forces, wearing a French General’s cap that looked like a gilded upside- down cooking pot, setting the French General aside from the others. He wore a red silk scarf around his neck, tucked neatly under his shirt collar. A few seats to his right, a German officer sat in his unassuming gray military suit.
“Attention!” was heard, and all those in attendance rose to their feet. General Thomas Bell, wearing camouflage fatigues, strode into the room. Many stories and legends had been told of the colorful military career of this son of Texas. He was not a tall man, but had an athletic, muscular build. As an ex-Marine, his short-cropped hair was no more than stubble, a few days old. He was known as an outspoken, maverick officer, who had been rebuked numerous times for his undiplomatic, often provocative, language, especially towards the Soviet Union. Behind his back, some people dubbed him Little Patton.