by Gee, Colin
“Shall I just say that a journey by air at night is not safe, even behind our lines Comrades.”
Konev, being Konev, had decided to leave as late as possible and fly to Nordhausen’s airfield, having been led to believe it was safe enough and being given the promise of fighter escort.
He witnessed the destruction of three of his escorts before being singled out for attack by whatever it was that was out there.
“Flying back will be easier in daylight I am assured, provided I can get another pilot.”
The previous airman was presently being bandaged in the headquarters aid station, silently hopeful that the loss of four toes would prevent him from flying again.
“None the less, we are glad you are relatively unscathed Comrade.”
Which in essence Zhukov was, but probably because of the disruption the loss of a Front Commander would cause to his military progress.
Drawing a line under the matter, Zhukov pressed on.
“Comrades, before we progress into the purpose of this gathering, can I confirm with all of you that you have had opportunity to read this document,” holding up a copy of Vasilevsky’s report on progress with Operation Diaspora he turned the cover towards him reading aloud, “Version B dated 10th August?”
It wasn’t a question as such, because every man there was required to be totally aware of Diaspora in case a change in leadership came about due to unforeseen circumstances.
“I must say, Comrade Marshall Vasilevsky is performing brilliantly, hand in hand with our Japanese Allies.”
He smiled broadly.
“It seems our new friends have adapted well to the gifts we sent, and all of us here know how effective they could be in the hands of the green toads.”
Dropping the ‘Diaspora -B-10/08- MRBF- Chief Intelligence Office - AMV’ report like it was a hot coal, he snatched up another small report.
“However, you will probably not be aware that the Americans are sending a considerable number of units to the Chinese mainland, as listed in appendix ‘B’ of this document.”
Waiting hands eagerly grabbed this new report from a young major issuing out copies.
“Appendix ‘A’ deals with naval allocations and, as such, is of limited interests to us, except to say that Diaspora is doing exactly what we hoped and more so.”
Chuikov, the roughest by nature of the gathered Commanders, speed-read and gave vent to his surprise.
“Govno!”
“I think you will find I am correct Comrade Colonel-General.”
There was a general ripple of laughter, especially as Marshall Zhukov was rarely given to public displays of humour.
Chuikov started to rise to his feet.
“Apologies Comrade, I was just surprised by this,” he indicated Appendix ‘B’.
Zhukov gestured the man back down into his seat, knowing that Chuikov may well be rough by nature, but he had stood his ground when no other had stood, Hero of the Mamayev Kurgan in Stalingrad.
He liked the man immensely.
“I think Comrade Chuikov expresses it well. The list of units they are sending to China will definitely inconvenience Vasilevsky but is undoubtedly of advantage to us.”
There was no intended humour in that and, in any case, Rokossovsky stood requiring the floor.
“Comrade Zhukov, is this information accurate? Has it been tested?”
The man, never given to excessive verbiage, resumed his seat.
Zhukov nodded accepting the sensible question.
“Comrade General Pekunin has received this through his own agents and assures the General Secretary of its factual nature.”
A small rumble of positive noises needed to be quelled before he could press on.
“In fairness, our beloved Marshall Beria,” such talk was safe amongst Military men, even Konev, “Has not been able to verify this list, but then you wouldn’t expect him to would you?”
The rivalry between GRU and NKVD was the stuff of legend.
“I think we must look at this report with a view to believing it to be true. After all, Pekunin’s lot have done well for us so far.”
Chuikov stood and was given the floor by Zhukov.
“I note from this list that a number of formations that we anticipated would be deployed in my area of operations are no longer slated for Europe. If this second phase of our attack proceeds as we have planned, then the front opposite me will be weakened by the Allied movement’s we anticipate into Southern Germany and Austria.”
That was window dressing for his next question, nay statement.
“In that case, are we planning to initiate phase three earlier and also proceed with the Iberian option?”
Holding out his palms in surrender, Zhukov cut straight in before others could get a word in.
“Wait Comrade. I appreciate your aggressive intent but we cannot yet be sure what assets the Allies will move from Italy northwards when we unleash our armies. Let us not get ahead of ourselves.”
Zhukov paused.
“And while we are on the subject, NKVD seems to feel that the Spanish change of position will be of little effect, a view I am inclined to agree with.”
There was no contrary view put forward, although there certainly would have been had Nazarbayeva’s report been to hand.
Indicating the next covered area on the rear wall Zhukov stepped aside as the orderly repeated his unveiling.
“This is the situation you are all aware of.”
Sitting down he gave the floor to his deputy Malinin who stepped forward, ready armed with long handled pointer.
“Comrades, our progress has, for the main part, been less than we would have hoped. However the purpose has been served and served well.”
As he started speaking, another staff officer was distributing the latest figures on losses and strengths.
“I cannot recall the figures from memory but you will see that overall we are not suffering casualties as we expected, either in manpower or equipment.”
Clearing his throat, he added a cautionary note.
“Except for air, where the losses have been murderous. Operation Kurgan was a brilliant success and their ground attack assets were decimated. Huge casualties were inflicted upon their command and control facilities, as well as their early-warning sites.”
He noted that the officers were all consuming the figures in front of them so paused to draw their attention back to him.
“The air regiments have suffered grievous loss in maintaining our command of the daylight airspace, for that IS what we have Comrades. Night time is a different matter, and as you will all know, we are suffering problems with logistics because of deep penetration heavy bomber raids on rail and bridge facilities.”
He added as evenly as he could.
“I have no need to remind you of that problem Comrades.”
Konev choked silently on a piece of chewy ham and Malinin took advantage of the respite to swallow some water.
“Our night capabilities are greatly eroded; fighter squadrons have been reduced to well below 50% strength in the vast majority of cases, night-bombers…”
Night Bombers; well they all knew that story.
“The Comrade General Secretary has ordered a review of our night air provisions as a matter of urgency.”
That this review was not to be conducted by the commander of Soviet Air Forces Europe was because the man was already in his grave, a result of a visitation from an NKVD squad.
“On the ground we are looking extremely healthy.”
Slapping the pointer against Denmark, he started his full brief.
“The Germans have two divisions, their former garrison troops, sat opposite our forces in Denmark. No aggression, except patrolling. No problem for us, although note that the Fascists went over in record time, and as complete unit’s.”
That was a monkey on everyone’s back.
“Comrade’s Beria and Pekunin have means to ensure that such cooperation between the Fascist
s and the allies will not be so smooth elsewhere, and will in fact further undermine their capability and capacity to fight.”
No one asked because they all knew Malinin didn’t know either.
“The purpose of our controlled, broad front attack was to draw enemy forces into disposition as early as possible and to conceal our intentions as best we could.”
“It was also felt that it was important to permit Diaspora to get underway and affect Allied strategic thinking before we showed our complete hand.
Everyone there knew that and not everyone had agreed with it. However.
“This seems to have worked exactly as was planned, as can be witnessed by the document Comrade Marshall Zhukov has just discussed with you.” Not so much of a discussion they all thought, but the list was impressive none the less, and if those soldiers were going to the land of the slant-eyes instead of Europe then that was all the better for them.
“Our attacks on their command and control were not as successful as we were first told. We discovered this very morning that Montgomery is actually alive, but incapacitated. The other major players we did not hurt. Losses amongst our paratroopers and special personnel were extreme, as we expected.”
Wishing to be upbeat, he ventured into an area initially of little concern to the military minds there.
“The Zilant operation was wholly successful, with the four locations purged as was hoped. Not of great significance for us of course but with the bonus of many dead experienced allied officers, including some Corps and Divisional commanders of key American and British units.”
There was no point in mentioning casualties.
“The Allies in defence are quite stubborn, although some units are better than others. Intelligence officers in your respective headquarters have compiled a list of fighting qualities based on combat reports, and in general those divisions which arrived in Europe within the last six months of the fighting tend to be less capable than those who arrived before.”
“In general, it was how we were expecting. The Americans are more aggressive than their British Allies, but generally not as competent in the attack, making many basic errors that have been punished by our forces.”
A hubbub of agreement from those whose forces had engaged.
“A word of caution Comrades. Our initial assessments of the Allies fighting abilities may have been slightly inaccurate. We cannot underestimate either of these nations’ forces. The British may not be aggressive but, as Hamburg and Northern Germany have already demonstrated, they are the devil to shift.”
Many eyes shifted to Malinovsky who could only move his weight uncomfortably in his chair by way of agreement.
“Some American units are fanatics. Their paratroopers for one. Some of their infantry units stand when even the German would probably have moved back.”
Most there knew that and grudgingly admired their adversary because of it.
“There is a report from Comrade Marshall Konev’s Front of American Red Indians going wild, breaking a Guards unit in hand to hand combat”
Konev stood with purpose.
“I received that report and immediately investigated it. No substance whatsoever. Examples have been made for loose talk.”
Malinin nodded.
“We stand corrected Comrade Marshall,” and by using the ‘we’ ensured no further wrath would come his way.
Moving quickly on.
“Then there is the French Army.”
Tapping Ingolstadt, he turned back to the assembly.
“We broke a whole division of them here. Ill-fortune prevented a full exploitation of the hole and more American and French units have since plugged the hole.”
Tapping his way across Southern Germany, he pointed out French divisions that seemed to be moving back to their homeland.
“The purpose of our scaled attack we all know here. The need to get our enemy to commit his forces forward, where our logistics and support is better, bringing him on so we can concentrate upon him in crushing force. It has succeeded Comrades, although the front lines buckled, his reserve forces moved forward, in blocking positions with very little now left in his reserve to worry us.”
He checked a note on his paper.
“We estimate no more than four divisions presently untasked within the allied plans, available as reserves when we break through.”
There was no ‘if’, there never had been.
“However, this backward movement of the French is unexpected and we do not know what it is.”
“Division? A rift in the allies’ structure?”
The question came from Bagramyan.
“Not according to Pekunin. He has agents close to matters here,” not needing to say within SHAEF and the French Army, “And his information is that relations between Eisenhower and De Gaulle are extremely good, and there is no hint of political disunity.”
A low animal like sound emanated from Bagramyan.
A growl possibly? Certainly the sound of a man with concerns.
He spoke.
“We set much store by the words of our General Pekunin. Do we set too much?”
Zhukov pondered that, as he had pondered it a few times of late. They must trust their Intelligence officers.
Standing up, he took the pointer from Malinin as a sign he had the floor.
“Pekunin is always clear about what he knows and what he suspects. So far his intelligence in military matters has been wholly accurate Comrades. The Yugoslavian matter apart, and the idiot responsible for that has been dealt with.”
Many nodded, some did not.
“We cannot always know everything is as it should be. Sometimes we must go on our gut. Look at what we do know and it all ties in.”
A fair point, but still, much faith was being placed in the GRU’s intelligence system.
“We cannot get bogged down on this point and we must proceed here.”
Passing the pointer back to Malinin, he spoke words to focus his Commanders minds.
“Our question here today is not do we instigate the great attacks of Kingdom39. It is just a question of when.”
Sitting down he made it quite clear that further discussion on that point was not going to take place, leastways not that day.
They moved onto the initiation of second phase, and the discussion was fierce.
More tea and food was ordered, and staff bringing the samovars and platters into the meeting room were surprised to find relaxed general officers discussing family and friends with each other.
When those not rated for the proceedings had left, Zhukov gestured towards the food and drink.
“Quickly if you please Comrades. We all have much work to do this day.”
In record time all were seated again, not without a few laughs at Chuikov’s expense, as he carried the largest plate of food away to his place.
Zhukov took centre-stage.
“So, in brief, Comrades. Marshall Bagramyan can be ready by 1800 hrs today.”
He nodded in military deference to a man who knew his business inside out.
“All but 2nd and 3rd Red Banner’s can be ready by 1200 hrs on Sunday.”
Looking at the two without rancour, he continued.
“Marshall’s Konev and Rossokovksy can be ready by Monday morning, and as they have the larger forces and the most engagement so far we can understand that.”
A statement meant to assure both that no slight was to be made of the timing, although Konev did not quite see it that way.
“So again we come to a Monday, this time the 13th. 0300 hrs.”
The time was Zhukov’s requirement and had been the subject of much verbal jousting.
Nevertheless, he got his way.
The discussion was at an end.
“Very well Comrades.”
As befitted the moment everyone stood.
“Phase two of Kingdom39 will be initiated at 0300 hrs 13th August.”
His monotone delivery scarcely did justice to what he had just
ordered, and for the Allies in Germany, it would make all that had gone before look like a fistfight under Queensberry rules.
“So, now the details Comrades.”
0951 hrs Saturday 11th August 1945, Office of the NKVD Chairman, The Lubyanka, Moscow, USSR.
He had been early into his office as usual.
Beria and sat reading reports, drinking tea and humming quietly to himself. It always paid to be prepared in his business. Even though Marshall Zhukov was travelling to Moscow that very day to bring the General Secretary and GKO the latest information and planning, Beria was in possession of a document which outlined the discussions and decisions made a few hours beforehand in the Nordhausen headquarters.
He noted the mocking comment Zhukov made about him and stowed the information in the deep recesses of his mind, for use on another day.
‘That day will come,’ Beria assured himself.
He leant back in his chair, savouring the expectation of that moment and found his mind moving once more to Nazarbayeva.
Puzzled by that, he concentrated more on why the offence she gave should be felt more deeply than others who committed worse and more regularly.
‘Was it intuition?’
‘Sexual discrimination?’
‘Revenge I can take any time in any way.’
He looked at the top drawer that held the recent report from Geneva and frowned.
‘Why am I now taking a detailed interest in the woman?’
He was no closer to fully understanding the problem when his reverie was interrupted by a powerful, almost excited knock on his door. A swift eye cast at the clock confirmed that it was still not quite time for his ten o’clock meeting with Pekunin’s deputy.
Inviting entry, an NKVD Captain handed Beria two reports marked urgent. One was from a no-nonsense Colonel in the Headquarters intelligence assessment unit, listing its contents as a forwarded report from an NKVD unit in Königsberg, coded for an intelligence gathering operation now being resurrected, as well as a general report on the overall progress of same.
The other, from Deputy Kobulov, reporting on plans for the planting of agents within the forming German forces.
Beria simply cast an eye over the former’s file jacket before pulling out a lower drawer and adding it to a modest file he extracted.
