Initiative (The Red Gambit Series Book 6) (56 page)

Nazarbayeva stood at full attention in an immaculate uniform, the only inklings that all was not how it should be were the split lip, bruised cheek, and some missing medals, the result of an enthusiastic questioner who decided that ripping the awards from the woman’s chest was an excellent pre-cursor to slapping her around.

Stalin stood and walked around Molotov to where she was standing, embracing the still shocked GRU officer, and kissing her on both cheeks with seemingly genuine warmth and affection.

“Please, sit, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Tea?”

She did as she was told, but declined the tea, for fear of dribbling the hot liquid down her tunic through lips that had still to recover their feeling.

“I wanted you back in Moscow to answer for the errors of your department. You know I had to do that, Comrade General. But I did NOT…” he slammed his hand on the desk, making Nazarbayeva jump, “… Did not order your detention, nor did I have anything to do with that.”

He pointed at her injuries, both those to her person and her pride, the missing Hero Award making him react in an unexpected fashion.

He fished in his top drawer.

“Comrade Mayor General, as an apology, I ask you to please accept this medal in the stead of the one you have mislaid.”

He moved around to her side of the table yet again, and she stood as he pinned his own award on her tunic, repeating the hug and kiss routine with an equal amount of genuine affection.

“Sit.”

He resumed his seat and leant forward, wringing his peasant hands, almost in a show of supplication.

“Comrade Beria did what he thought was correct, although excessively so. He’ll apologise to you in due course.”

Beria had declined to be present for the reinstatement of Nazarbayeva, citing pressing department reasons, an excuse Stalin had accepted for expediency’s sake only.

Molotov was only there for unconnected reasons, but took the opportunity to stow away a few snippets to relay to Beria later.

“A brief investigation has established that the blame was not yours, and you have been exonerated. I hope you’ll continue to serve Mother Russia to the best of your abilities, Comrade Nazarbayeva?”

“That has always been my only concern, my only duty, Comrade General Secretary.”

“Excellent. Then this matter is behind us, in part at least.”

He pulled out the file on the DRA.

“This… this abomination cannot be permitted to happen again, are we clear, Comrade Mayor General?”

“Yes, Comrade General Secretary. I apologise. We should have understood the information better, and armed you and Marshal Vasilevsky with more accurate details.”

Stalin held up his hand, halting her immediately.

“Enough. Errors have been made, those responsible punished, lessons have been learned. We will move on, Comrade. The NKVD also repeated those errors,” Stalin could not help himself but to crow just a little, “Something of which I reminded Marshal Beria when he had you arrested.”

Nazarbayeva nodded, still too in shock to really understand the point.

Her mind, fuzzy and indistinct, suddenly melted through the haze and focussed on one point.

“Those responsible, include me, Comrade General Secretary. That is in my report.”

He looked at the document and nodded like a sage of old.

“Ah yes, true, Comrade Nazarbayeva. But its author was another, and clearly the initial responsibility was his. His confession under questioning was sufficient.”

“Sufficient…”

“Sufficient for prompt action, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Now, let me not keep you. Take two days to recover… there is a suite for you in the Hotel National… enjoy some rest and return to your duties reinvigorated. Organise yourself, and then take some leave with your husband. I will ensure he’s available.”

She had only really comprehended the initial words.

“Comrade General Secretary, may I ask what prompt action has been taken?”

He had never really expected not to tell her everything, so was ready to answer the inevitable question.

“Polkovnik Poboshkin confessed and was executed this morning.”

He picked a list out of his second drawer.

“Of your staff, the following members confessed to deliberately sabotaging intelligence efforts and presenting you with false information, for which treasonable acts they have paid in full… Polkovnik Poboshkin, Mayor Ergotin, Kapitan Guvarin, and Mladshy Leytenant Pinkerova. You were badly served by your staff. Choose your replacements wisely, Comrade Mayor General.”

Nazarbayeva’s mind was in a whirl and she couldn’t think straight.

Most of her staff… almost all of her inner sanctum… gutted by the NKVD and the wrath of Beria.

‘Andrey… loyal Andrey…’

In her grieving mind, a happy and smiling face replaced that of her now dead aide.

‘Maya… innocent… what a brain…lost… betrayed…’

Stalin interrupted her melancholy.

“Comrade Nazarbayeva… Comrade Nazarbayeva!”

She shook herself free of it all.

“Apologies, Comrade General Secretary. I… err…”

“Yes, I know. It must come as a shock to learn of their betrayal… it always does when the closest of your circle fail you, Tatiana.”

She missed the sarcasm in his voice completely, and Molotov’s muted but nonetheless very real reaction.

“Comrade Nazarbayeva, I will arrange movement orders and leave for you and your husband at Sochi, and will ensure that my private dacha is made available for your use.”

Stalin stood and extended an arm towards the door, indicating that the female officer should now depart.

“Now, Comrade Mayor General… go and rest at the National, then enjoy your leave and return to your headquarters reinvigorated and ready to serve the party and Motherland.”

“I’ll not let the Motherland down, Comrade General Secretary.”

She saluted smartly and was gone.

Stalin looked at the closed door and his eyes narrowed.

He kept his thoughts to himself.

Breaking away from them, he turned to Molotov.

“Right, Vyacheslav, the Italians, and the Greeks?”

The attack hadn’t so much faltered as simply run out of steam logistically.

The Red Army had put up heavy resistance, mainly infantry, artillery, and anti-tank guns, and they had been overrun eventually by a combination of British artillery, RAF ground attack aircraft, Guards tanks, and, as normal, the poor bloody infantry.

The Battlegroup based around the 2nd Battalion, Grenadier Guards had ground to a halt in the rough ground overlooking the ex-Luftwaffe air base at Schwerin-Parchim, just under five hundred metres to the east.

Fig # 204 - The battleground of Parchim and Spornitz

Here the Centurions found themselves with no visible enemy to stop them driving on, but with no fuel in their tanks to allow them to take advantage of the situation.

Additional pressure was unwittingly brought to bear upon the headquarters officers by the presence of Colonel
Jacob ‘Bunty’ Hargreaves, recently arrived from divisional headquarters to check on progress and report back on his best view of how the attack could be pushed ahead.

The Battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Keith, and his staff, were turning the airwaves blue in their quest to find the missing fuel column, with little success.

A simple map reading error had deprived the Grenadiers of the necessary fluid of armoured warfare.

Meanwhile, the battalion adjutant was up with ‘B’ Squadron, the point unit, organising the siphoning of fuel from other vehicles in order to keep the drive going.

Fig # 205 - Limit of initial Allied advance, Parchim, Germany

Acting Major Heywood passed on the Colonel’s orders to ‘A’ Squadron, who reluctantly gave up half of their petrol, leaving enough for modest manoeuvre, and the rest was greedily consumed by the Centurion IIs of ‘B’ Squadron.

2nd Grenadiers had taken further hits since the battles around Lützow, and had been withdrawn as soon as the front had been stabilised.

‘C’ Squadron, until recently removed from the battalion for recuperation and for training with the new ammunition type, was on the road somewhere to the west, carried on M19 Diamond T transporters.

The Grenadiers’ Centurion Is had all gone, and Centurion IIs now filled their ranks, as best they could, although insufficient numbers were available because of decidedly avoidable delays. Back in the home country, the decision to commence production of the new but untried Mark III had inadvertently crippled production of the Mark II, and arguments flared, which served neither the war effort nor the manufacturers, stuck in intransigence until Churchill himself stepped into the quarrel.

Eventually, the Mark II production lines were restarted and the proven vehicle, still equipped with the ubiquitous 17-pdr, started to flow from Britain to the continent in modest numbers, but never enough to satisfy the all-consuming modern battlefield.

The Mark III production line produced a few vehicles before some defects were detected, specifically with the gun stabiliser and mount, ensuring that the appearance of good numbers of the 84mm bore QF 20-pdr-equipped universal tanks were delayed.

The first versions, hurried across the English Channel, were greedily accepted into service. On Saturday 26th July, the first Mark III in action, crewed by men of the Irish Guards, destroyed five Soviet tanks outside of Ludwigslust, two of which were knocked out whilst on the move.

The stabilised 20-pdr, excellent power train, and upgraded armour protection made the Centurion III a formidable adversary.

There were just not enough of them.

Fig # 206 - Allied Order of Battle - Parchim, Germany.

‘B’ Squadron pushed on, screened by recon troopers from 2nd Welsh Guards, and supported by the mechanised companies of the 5th Battalion Coldstream Guards, leaving a disgruntled ‘A’ Squadron in hull-down positions to their rear.

Some of the Coldstreams rode on the flank tanks, providing close infantry support, should Soviet infantry try to interfere with the Guards’ advance. Their M3 halftracks had also yielded up the contents of their fuel tanks to keep the Centurions on the move.

The left flank troop took advantage of the good going offered by Route 9, and moved ahead of the main body, under orders, intent on securing a modest military bridge that aerial reconnaissance photographs had revealed.

It was set over the River Elde, which formed the northern border of the Battlegroup’s advance, but offered opportunities for opening another line of attack on Parchim itself.

The engineer bridge also marked the most forward positions of the 10th Guards Army, positions the Red Army had been ordered to hold at all costs.

Fig # 207 - Renewed advance at Parchim, Germany.