Red Storm

The Kremlin and back to the Front

August 1942, Moscow, The Soviet Union.

The dim lights carefully riveted to the front of my staff car pulled up outside the gates of the Kremlin. It's tall towers, penetrating the thick, night skies fog. Once in position, a tall, uniformed man approached. Following a brief conversation with Dimitri, my driver, the man stepped back, opened the gates and indicated for the car to move on. As the automobile pulled forward I glanced down at my briefcase, hurriedly positioned by my side. It's leather handle and metallic buckles occasionally catching shafts of light, shone from one of the large lights that inhabited the fore court of this great palace. Once again the car slowed to a stop and I made my way out, up towards the empowering entrance to the Kremlin. Inside I was greeted by two men, both wearing heavy leather boots and green peaked caps, with the patriotic star sewed in the middle. "This way", they ushered, and I was hurriedly walked down a long corridor, lined with stone statues and great banners, embroidered with phrases and propaganda. At the end of the corridor a large statue, separated from the rest, stood. This was the final reminder of the man I was about to meet, Stalin. The men I walked with suddenly stopped, saluted, and marched back towards the direction of the entrance hall. Once they were out of site, I turned, knocked twice on the heavy wooden door. "Enter" the reply came and I made my way into the cabinet room. A great, oak table stood in centre. To the left, a fireplace roared, it's light engulfing a vast majority of the room. Towards the rear of the room, a large window, it's curtains pulled shut, and on the left hand side, a large map, containing the borders and fronts of this great empire. "Sit down" one member of the board commanded. "We've been awaiting your arrival". "Yes sir" I replied. After sitting down, I carefully placed my briefcase on the table, undid the lock, and pulled out its contents. Amongst various battle plans, and letters, one document stood out from the rest. It's many pages binded together by an intricate string bind. This was quickly collected by the man on my left. This was General Seymon Budyonny, in charge of the army holding Kiev. This document was of particular interest to him, as it contained secret German plans, stating when and where German army group south would advance on the Kiev vicinity. This had been captured by one of my soldiers during the battle of Minsk two weeks earlier. It's thick pages spelled grim news for Budyonny's 700 thousand men stationed around Kiev. His army was to be attacked by the full strength of German army group South, and we all remembered the aftermath from the battle of Rhzev. Stalin wanted good news, however what I had brought was ill fated, and no one had the stomach for a one sided debate with Joseph Stalin.

Along with the roaring first place stood a large portrait of Stalin himself. This immediately caught the eye of all who entered. Many portraits like this where positioned throughout the many walls of the Kremlin, but whilst they could portray his physical features, none could portray the enormity of Stalin's presence. Almost suddenly from behind me came the sound of footsteps and the swinging of the heavy door. There Joseph Stalin filled the entrance, his white uniform reflecting rays of light beaming out of the fire. All stood as he entered and continued to until he made his way to his chair. After sitting, there was a tense moment, finally broken by Marshal Timoshenko. "Grave news sir" he reported. "Grave news?" Stalin replied, "tanks, and hundreds of them, all moving towards Kiev sir" Timoshenko. Stalin sat back in his chair. "What do we have facing them?" He finally said. "Currently the 56th, 25th and 10th armies defend that salient sir" Budyonny replied. "We are heavily outnumbered sir" Timoshenko added. It was at this moment that Stalin turned his gaze onto me. "Reichyvick?" "Yes sir" I said cautiously, "what is the status of your army?". "My troops have secured the east bank of the Dnieper river" I replied. "Good" followed Stalin "you can resupply the Keiv salient" " sir, I fear my forces are not large enough to relieve Kiev" I replied. "Nonsense" Stalin replied, "all reserve forces are to be sent to reinforce Kiev". "yes sir" we all replied. "The 22nd army will be sent to Kiev" I said, and with that, the meeting was called to an end.

Three days later I got called back to the front. I was immediately greeted and maps of surrounding area were laid out on a makeshift table. Our troops were positioned, in red, along the ridge line, and the German forces were marked in blue. Whatever tanks we had had left had been dug-in along the northern sector of the battlefield and the main body of the infantry held positions to the south the great forest.

I clearly remember walking through the fields to the rear of our forward positions. The gentle rolling hills, dominated the landscape. A great tree line provided the split between land and sky, and the tranquil silence showed that there was still hope beyond the war. Whatever hope was left began to dwindle now though. None could hide their apparent hatred for the war and the sorrow they were suffering. In truth, the memories of back home kept me going. Without them I would have ground down, broken in the dirt. Broken at the road side, abandoned by those I followed into hell. This was the fear many soldiers faced. Some were better at hiding it than others. One man in the regiment, Vitaly, a tall, strong, bear of a man, been in the regiment from the start. He was the example red army soldier, but two years into the war, he started to slow down. The site of this huge man, crying, his head in his hands will stay with me for the rest of my life.