Chapter 53 Chapter Fifty-Three

At five o'clock in the afternoon, Talkey Tudsbury was having tea alone in the hotel room. There were some sardines, cheese, sturgeon, brown bread and honey cakes. Victor Henry came in and told him that he would go to the front.The reporter was so excited that he stopped eating. "My God, man, are you going? With the Germans swarming everywhere? Impossible. Just talking. Good lord, the Russians are good at talking to you. You'll never go. He straightened his beard and reached for food again. "Yeah, maybe," said Pug, sitting in a chair with a leather bag on his lap full of the codes and harbor charts he'd just gotten from the Admiralty.For four days, he only slept five or six hours intermittently. He tried hard not to close his eyes, and the things in the room shook back and forth in front of his eyes. "But my permission has just been granted from a fairly high superior."

Tudsbury was putting a piece of bread with a layer of sardines to his mouth, and he was stunned when he heard it. He looked at Henry through thick glasses like the bottom of a bottle, and whispered in a calm tone: "I will go with you." "To hell with you." "Victor, two weeks ago, when the Russians fought back, the reporters went to the front line of the center. On the day I left, I caught a cold and had a fever of 105 degrees." Tudsbury put down his food and grabbed Leaning on his crutches, he limped quickly across the room and began to put on his fur coat and cap. "Who's in charge of it, Rosovsky? Can I tell them you said I could go? I know them all, and they like me. It's up to you."

Victor Henry didn't want Tudsbury to go with him, but he was exhausted, and he expected the Russians to refuse the request, so he said, "Okay." "God bless you, dear chap, don't go, just drink my tea. Tell Pam I'll be back by six and she'll have to retype my broadcast." "Where is she?" "There's a letter for her from the diplomatic courier. She went to get it." Pug fell asleep in the armchair he was sitting on. A swipe of cold fingers across his face woke him up. "Hello, wouldn't it be better if you lay down and sleep?" Pam stood before him, her face flushed from the cold, her eyes gleaming, and a lock of brown hair peeking out from under her gray sheepskin hat.

"Ah, what's the matter!" He blinked and stretched his waist. "What am I doing here? I probably fell down after entering the house." "Where's Taoji?" She took off her hat and gloves. "Why did he leave the tea behind? He's not like that." After a little sleep his mind became clearer, and he remembered his conversation with Tudsbury and told her the situation again.Her face stiffened, looking tense. "The front? They'll never let him go. But you? Victor, are you really going? Have you heard the British radio or the Swedish broadcast?"

"Listen." "Well, I know it's no use arguing. But I can tell you that our embassy is moving to the Urals or something. By the way, Teide is fine." She went to her desk , still wearing a fur coat, picked up a few yellow papers with typefaces. "Ah, I hate it, I changed it again, what a fuss!" She often casually says important things.Pug was used to it by now.She talked about this matter too quickly today, and he wasn't sure if he heard it clearly. "Pamela, what's the matter? How's Teddy?" "He's fine. All right, anyway."

"But where is he?" "Oh, back to Bride. He wrote that he was the same. He seemed He ran out of the prisoner camp outside Strasbourg with several French air forces.In France and Belgium, he did experience several thrilling scenes like those in the movies.But he broke through.I used to think that he would come out sooner or later. ’ She sat down and lifted the cover of the typewriter. "My God, girl, this is great news." "Yeah, isn't it? You must read his letter. It's seven pages on both sides. It's very interesting. He lost forty-two pounds, and his thighs—more precisely, his buttocks. There's a bullet. He's been tortured, he said regretfully, and now, when he can sit up, he'll have to do some office work! Which, of course, means I've got to go home right away and marry him."

Pamela suddenly changed her casual look and stared at Victor Henry for a long time.She put on black-rimmed glasses. "I've got to get on with it. You obviously need some sleep." "It didn't work. The delegation is leaving. I have to see them off. Pam, it's a big deal with Ted. I'm so happy and relieved." She rubbed her hands together, breathed on them, and said, "God, that really got on my nerves, didn't it? I mean I could stop dealing with Torkey's handwriting and his optimistic nonsense. " After a while, Victor Henry was wearing the thick woolen coat he wore on the warship when Tudsbury barged in with a fever on his face and his nose was purple with cold.

"It's possible! Qualified, my God. They'll check tomorrow, but, Victor, I'm sure I'll go with you! - Pam, are you done? Time's running out. - Victor , The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is in turmoil right now, the news from the front must be bad, but, by God, the permission you got, no matter what it is called, must be a secret order! Of course they like me, and they also know that I am eligible, but when When I said you insisted that I go with you, Rosovsky's face changed!" "Ah, Tarky!" Pamela stopped typing and looked at him. "Victor didn't insist at all, there's no way he could have said that."

"Pam, you have to put pressure on these people." Tudsbury frowned and smiled slyly. "I said, you two are old friends. Actually, Victor likes you very much and wants to do me a favor. So if anyone asks, you have to lie to me." "You unashamed old bastard," said Pamela, flushing. "Well, what I said is still the truth." Victor Henry said. "I have to go to the airport now. Talky, Pamela has some important news." Tudsbury intervened to make going to the front somewhat difficult.The Ministry of Foreign Affairs hummed and did not give a clear answer.Days passed, and Pug was still stuck in Moscow with nothing to do.Ambassadors and embassy personnel treated Victor Henry coldly because he had been forced in from Washington and was a scourge of diplomacy.Once he went to Sloter's office by chance, and saw him pale, frowning, and smirking at him inexplicably.

"Hey, what is my daughter-in-law doing at your table?" said Pug.Natalie, smiling in silver frames, was younger and fatter, with her hair tied in an ill-fitting bun. "Oh! Listen, this is Natalie." Sloter laughed. "Do you think Byron would mind? She gave it to me a long time ago, and I still like her. What's up with your going to the front? With the momentum the Germans are coming at now, you can't get very far, hee, hee." "God knows," said Pug, feeling that the man was in a bad mood. "Maybe it won't work." It turned out later that the main difficulty was Pamela.Her father asked to take her with him, saying there was nothing he could do without her.Later he withdrew the application, but the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had already sent the list of the three people to a high-level agency that was in charge of the matter, so it could not be withdrawn and re-applied.When Pug met Rosowski again or spoke on the phone, he gradually became less friendly.

"My dear Colonel Henry, you will be notified in due course. The Soviet Union has other equally pressing problems to attend to." So Pug wandered the streets, watching the changes in Moscow.There are new red and black posters everywhere, mobilizing people to volunteer for work.This kind of thick-line socialist caricature shows strong workers and peasant women wielding bayonets and pointing at spiders, snakes or wolfhounds with faces like Hitler.Everywhere there are teams of labor forces in unkempt clothes, carrying shovels and pickaxes; trucks full of children pass through the streets; despite the heavy rain for days, there are always long queues in front of food stores.Soldiers and horse-drawn carts are no longer seen on the streets.Beneath the sodden hats and shawls, the faces of groups of high-cheekboned Caucasians on the street looked different.People frowned and hurried past with questioning eyes, and the cold and indifferent expressions of the Slavs were no longer visible.Victor Henry felt that the sooner the Germans came, the more Muscovites looked like New Yorkers. Rosovsky finally called Henry at the hotel, and his voice was excited. "Okay, Colonel, can you come to the Foreign Office at first light tomorrow morning? Please come to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, dress warmly, take a raincoat and good boots, and prepare to go for three or four days." "Okay. Is the girl going too?" "Of course." Hearing the Russian's tone, he seemed a little surprised, but at the same time a little unhappy. "The problem is her. We'd like to do exactly what you want, but it's not easy. We Russian girls go through the war environment for granted, but foreign ladies don't. We all know Taz, though. Miss Burleigh, she is very pretty, and we can understand the faithful friendship. Everything is arranged." Victor Henry decided not to care about this joking, even mocking tone, and did not make any further excuses. "Thank you very much, I will be there on time." Driving south from Moscow in the rain, they followed a long line of rumbling military trucks all morning, stopping only to visit an interceptor airfield.The airport is cleverly concealed in the forest just outside the capital city.This little black car, Russian-made M-1, looks and sounds like a Ford in 1930. The car is crowded with small people, especially there are boxes and papers in the car for which I don’t know what to do. package etc.After walking about a hundred miles, their hosts suggested stopping to stretch their legs and have lunch.It was a mild-faced, bespectacled tank colonel with the uncommon name of Bovrey Anfidyetrov.Here they heard the German guns for the first time. The driver was a burly soldier with a short red beard and a quiet voice.He drove the car into a side road lined with old trees.The car turned around between the harvested fields and the birch forest, and two white country houses could be seen in the distance.Finally reach the end of the wild woods and enter a dark alley.They got out of the car, and the colonel led them along the path to a small grassy mound under the shade of a tree, with a wreath of flowers in front of it. "Oh, you know, this is Tolstoy's country estate," said Anfidyetrov. "This is Yasnaya Polyana. That's his grave. I thought you might be interested in it because I passed by here." Looking at the low mound, Tudsbury said in a solemn tone that he seldom had, "Tolstoy's grave? No grave? No monument?" "He let it be done, he said: 'Bury me in the woods, under the same field where I used to play green sticks with my brother Nikolay in my childhood,...'" Amphitious said in a low voice. The voice sounded rough and loud, drowning out the sound of rain dripping from the yellow leaves. Victor Henry tilted his head and ears, and looked at the colonel. He heard a new sound, a slight irregular thump, like raindrops on grass.The colonel nodded. "Yes, when the wind is favorable, the sound can travel far." "Ah, the gunfire?" said Tudsbury, looking very composed. " "Yes, the sound of the guns. How about something to eat? The house where Tolstoy worked is very interesting. But it is not open at the moment." The bearded driver puts his lunch on the bench carrying the mound.They ate black bread, garlicky sausages and cucumbers, and drank beer that was not cold.No one spoke, the rain continued to drip, the sound of military trucks on the road in the distance continued, and the sound of shelling in the distance was faintly heard.Pamela broke the silence. "Who put the flowers there?" "Administrators, I suppose," said the tank colonel. "The Germans would never get this far," she said. "Yes, it's a pious thought," said the colonel, "and I don't think they'll get here either, but Yasnaya Polyana is not a solid place, so the great Tolstoy and all of us The Russians are all taking the same risk now." He smiled, showing red gums and looking anything but mild. "The Germans couldn't kill him anyway," Tudsbury said. "They should think about it when they read him." "It's still up to us to prove it. But one day." The sun broke through the clouds for a while, and the birds began to sing.Victor Henry and Pamela Tudsbury sat together on the bench, and the sun shone through the yellow leaves on the girl like stage lights.She wore gray trousers tucked into white furry snow boots, a sheepskin jacket, and a hat. "Why are you looking at me, Victor?" "Pam, I've never visited Tolstoy's tomb, and I certainly didn't come with you, but I swear I'll remember it all, especially when you look so pretty with your hat a little on the side." As she put her hand up to the brim of her hat, he added: "I was going to say to you that you should hold up your hand, and the sun will make your diamond ring sparkle." She straightened her fingers and looked at the diamond. "Tide and I had a little quarrel about it. I hadn't made up my mind to wear it when he gave it to me." The colonel called, "Well, Captain, let's go on. " On the boulevard, the little black sedan edged the edge of the congested torrent of transport, heading in the direction of the gunfire.The highway was full of trucks, one going to the front and one going back.Bearded men and stout tanned women worked in the fields between the rolling birch groves without looking at the cars on the road, and children ignored the military transport and played by themselves near the road.In some small villages, clothes are dried outside small wooden houses, and the windows of wooden houses are painted in colorful colors.Victor Henry could not fail to notice a strange phenomenon: the farther away from Moscow and the closer to the front line, the more normal and calm the Russians seemed.The capital behind them was in a hustle and bustle.Just outside the city, women, children, frail scholars with glasses—officials, journalists, school teachers, etc.—were busily digging anti-tank trenches and piled up countless obstacles of steel and cement.Beyond this line of defense, there are peaceful forests and fields, endless green pines and verdant cypresses, and autumn colors splashing everywhere.Only the anti-aircraft shelters built for trucks along the road—clearing a spot in the forest and chopping evergreens for cover—had seen the slightest glimpse of enemy invasion. Towards evening, the car pulled into a small market town and stopped on a muddy square in front of a house with yellow windows.Children with ruddy faces lined up by the pump with buckets; other children were driving cattle and sheep home from the vast field; under the purple mist and evening clouds, the flat field stretched far; The strong old man was sawing wood and nailing the windows of a half-built house.These were the strange phenomena Pug had seen all day long—these people who had lived in Russia for generations and were still building houses in the twilight.The German guns were already audible, much louder than in Tolstoy's domain, and the yellow flashes on the western horizon flickered like summer lightning. "Oh, this is their home," the Colonel replied when Victor Henry mentioned the phenomenon as they got out of the car with stiff legs. "Where could they go? We've stopped the Germans there. Of course, pregnant women and mothers with children moved out early." In the small, warm dining room now serving as regimental headquarters, the guests crowded around a table with the colonel of the tank, four officers of the regiment, and a general named Yevlenko, with three arms on his broad shoulders. A tawny star.He is the Chief of Staff of the Legion in this area.Anfidyetlov told Victor Henry that he had also happened to pass through this town.He was a tall man with flaxen hair, a peasant nose like a garlic head, and a large, smooth, ruddy jaw, and in the narrow, smoky room he seemed to occupy one end of the room by himself. .Yevlenko spent a lot of time courting Pamela, persuading her to eat and drink.His fat face was now absent-minded, numb, tired, and deeply sad, now cheerful, but his eyes always had an expression of extreme fatigue in their deep, purple sockets. A banquet in Kremlin style began, and on rough yellow tablecloths, soldiers served course after course: champagne, caviar, smoked fish, soup, chicken, steak, and cream cake.When the warrior waiter came in and out of the kitchen door, Pug Henry glanced inside and realized this extraordinary surprise. The red-bearded driver of the M-1 was sweating profusely by the fireside in his white apron.Pug had seen him carry boxes of things from the car to the house.Turns out he was a real chef, a master chef. The general talked casually about the situation of the war, and the colonel acted as an interpreter.His regiments were smaller than the Nazis in the area, with far fewer guns and tanks.Still, they might surprise the Germans.According to theory, the line of defense they had to defend was too long for their strength; but good theory, like good corps, is sometimes flexible.The Germans had suffered terrible losses, and he recited numbers in a row, tanks destroyed, guns captured, enemies killed.Any army can always advance if its commander is willing to pay in blood for every inch of ground he gains.The Germans had bled so much that they were as white as turnips.This attack was their last great effort to win victory before winter. "Can they take Moscow?" asked Tudsbury. "Not from this direction," replied the general promptly, "and I don't think any other direction. But if they do take it, we'll drive them out of Moscow, and then out of our territory. We'll beat them The Germans have no strategic policy. The concept of their strategic policy is to kill, plunder and enslave. In today's day and age, this is not a strategic policy. Another point, their resources are basically worse than ours, Germany is a very poor Last but not least, they overestimated themselves and underestimated us. According to V. I. Lenin, this is a very dangerous mistake in war. Lenin said that in war, think too much of yourself and The other party thinks too little, which is very dangerous. The result can only be unreliable plans with very unpleasant endings, such as failure." Pamela said: "That being said, they came anyway." The General turned his large scowling face to her, with a sudden expression of menace, brutality, and wretched exhaustion.His expression disappeared again in a flirtatious smirk. "Yes, my dear girl, I quite understand what you mean when you say that you are as unwilling as we are to see these things happen again. Yes, the Nazis succeeded in their surprise attacks through unprecedented treachery. Another One thing is that they are arrogant and cock-tailed. They have won several battles and driven unconquerable Britain to sea, etc., they can only win battles and believe that they are invincible. Anyway, when they see themselves mates are dying like flies in russia, i think they have to reconsider. at first they moved troops straight up the road and it was too much trouble to even protect the flanks, then they paid attention to it. yes, hitler trained them Looting, robbing, killing, these are the legacy of the old Teutons, they are very good at it. We are a peaceful people, I think we were fucked by them when we were not mentally prepared. So, if you As you said, they have finally come. Now we have two tasks, that is: to prevent them from going any further, and to drive those we have not eliminated back to where they came from." He turned to Henry And Tudsbury said, "If you can help us with materials, naturally our mission can be completed faster, because we have lost too much. But most importantly, if another battlefield is opened in Western Europe, it will The brigands can be quickly wiped out. The British may be surprised to find that once they land in France, they can march straight into Berlin. I believe that every German who can shoot a gun has been sent here to participate in this attack." "There's not a single time I've gone on the air without emphasizing opening a second front," Tudsbury said.The general nodded. "You are famous and considered a friend of the Soviet people." He looked at Victor Henry. "Well, Colonel, what would you like to see? Unfortunately this is so far inland that you won't be able to see the fine naval maneuvers." "General, if—of course it's ridiculous, but—if our President can don the mythical cloak of invisibility to see your front lines." "We also have stories of this kind," Yevlenko said, "but unfortunately we don't have such clothes." "What would you like him to see?" The general glanced at the four officers sitting opposite his guests, who were sitting next to each other, smoking incessantly.These four pale Russians, all with curly hair and sleepy shrewd eyes, all wore the same brown coat, like four sons born in one womb.None of them had spoken yet, when the General spoke to them.Immediately there was a flurry of conversations in Russian spoken very quickly.He turned back to Henry and said, "You are very good, we will arrange it. Since the situation is a bit unstable, I suggest you leave at dawn tomorrow morning." He looked up and said to Pashula: "A room The bedroom has been cleaned out for you. Gentlemen, just stay with the officers for the night." "My God, and a bedroom? I'm going to sleep on the floor or in the dirt without taking off my clothes," Pamela said. "I don't want to sleep at all right now anyway." After the colonel translated, the general's face lit up with joy. "Is that so? You speak like we Russian girls, not like delicate English women." He extended his arm to her and led everyone into another room.Old ink-stained maps hung on the walls of the room, musty-smelling furniture was jumbled together with desks, stools, typewriters, black tangles of telephone wires, and soldiers struggled to clear around the ancient upright piano. Some places, pushing the furniture to the sides, creaking sound, the keys on the piano are all peeled off the paint.An officer sits with a cigarette in his mouth and plays "England Lives".Pamela laughed when she heard the tune, and rose to sing along.The general led the applause and called for more champagne.The pianist began to strum "Alexander's Light Orchestra" again.General Yevlenko bowed deeply gracefully, and asked Pamela to dance. Pamela was not as tall as his shoulders, so the pair looked ridiculous, awkwardly walking in narrow muddy boots. The small clearing turned up, but he had a happy look on his face.She danced again with the other officers, and when the pianist finished playing the few American pieces he knew, he began to play "Alexander's Light Orchestra", and Pamela danced with the general again.Everyone in the room was drinking champagne and vodka.Outside the gate, the soldiers gathered together, and the gray-eyed foreign ladies who wore gray trousers danced and drank with the officers.Pug knew that dancing was the last thing she liked, especially with strangers.He remembered, long ago, in times of peace, the first words he heard Pamela say on board the Bremen: "I'll get myself a walking stick and a white wig." Everyone is happy.When the pianist began to play the Russian pieces--he was much better--Pamela sat on a chair, and the officers danced alone or in pairs.The laughter and applause grew louder.A handsome young soldier broke into the house with a beard that hadn't been shaved for a week, and gave a wonderful solo, dancing, squatting, twirling, and finally bowing like a professional ballet dancer in thanks for everyone's applause. bowed.The general stood up awkwardly and began to jump alone.He spun and jumped again, then folded his arms across his chest, squatted down and kicked his legs, shouting gruffly, "Quicker! Quicker!" His heavy steps shook the floor.The soldiers all entered the house and cheered around him; the house was full of the stench of men, smoke and wine, but Victor Henry could still smell a little carnation perfume when he was close to Pamela .When General Flenko jumped up and gasped for breath after shouting, the people around cheered and applauded loudly, and Pamela ran up and kissed his sweaty red face, and he kissed her mouth happily, which caused laughter and cheers. More enthusiastic cheers, this is the end of the party.The soldiers pushed the furniture back to its place, and the guests went to bed.