Chapter 61 Chapter 60

Pug.Henry hurried to the Soviet Union.But he was delayed for some time on the way. As the clipper jet flapped its wings out of Baltimore harbor, whining its engines into the low January fog, he took out of his briefcase two letters he had been unable to read.First he opened the thick White House envelope and flipped through the typewritten document, Hopkins' long sermon on Lend-Lease. "What would you like early, sir?" A waiter in a white coat touched his elbow.Pug ordered ham and eggs and pancakes, though after a fortnight of Rhoda's good food and wine he felt the uniform was a little cramped.Going to the Soviet Union on a mission should put on weight, he thought, like a bear about to hibernate.His life is really fucking going into hibernation, and he's starving, so he's going to eat a lot.Before he figured out Pamela.Before what on earth was Tudsbury thinking, Harry.Shouldn't Hopkins' nagging articles be put aside for now.The sharp handwriting on the airmail envelope from London clearly belonged to her.Pug tore open the envelope with an involuntary longing.

Dear Victor: I'm scribbling a few lines to let you know I've just left for Scotland to write a report on an American plane ferry pilot.You must already know that my father is dead, he was killed by a mine in El Alamein. The Observer was generous enough to give me the opportunity to continue my father's career as a journalist.It's useless to talk more about Taoji.I've pulled myself together, though I've felt for a while as if I were dead; or rather, it was better to be dead. Did you get my long letter from Egypt before you lost that ship?I was horrified by that news, but luckily it was not long before I learned that you were safe and well, and that you were on your first trip to Washington.I am going there myself soon.I told you in that letter, Duncan.Burner-Walker has proposed to me.To be honest, I think I am writing to you just to get your consent.I have not heard back from you.We've been engaged since then, and he's gone to India as Auchinleck's new Deputy Chief of Air Staff.

I would not last long in Washington, and the dangerous situation in Stalingrad inspired my editor to send me back to the Soviet Union.But I've come here while I've run into some incredible difficulties with visas, which The Observer is trying to sort out.If I were not allowed to go back to Moscow for some incomprehensible Marxist reason, my usefulness would disappear.At that point I might simply end my career as a reporter and go to Duncan's side as his wife.We'll see. As you no doubt already know, Rhoda and I met by chance in Hollywood and I told her about our relationship.I just want to show my heart and forget the past from now on, and I believe you won't be angry with me for this.Now I'm engaged to a lovely man, my destination is set, and that's it.I will be staying at Wardman around January 15th.Parker Hotel.can you give me a callI don't know what Rhoda would think if I called you, although it's obvious I'm not a threat to her.As for meeting you, I want to be aboveboard.I just don't want to act like I don't know you exist in this world.

Love, Pamela December 20, 1942 Rhoda had heard about it, but she didn't show it—Pug lost in thought, surprised, amused, and touched .Great strategy, great woman.Perhaps she had noticed the London postmark when handing him the letter.As for the revelation of the secret, he felt awkward, embarrassed even though he had a good conscience.On the whole, Rhoda was a remarkable woman.Pamela's letter was well written, in a calm and friendly tone;Although the Clipper was a bit bumpy, and the dark clouds outside the window rolled and swept back, he still ate this hearty breakfast in a good mood, because he saw a glimmer of hope that the Soviet Union and the future Burner-Walker Madam met again.

Then he read Hopkins' letter. Dear Pug: The President was very pleased with you that morning.He will remember it.The problem of landing craft has not gone away.Perhaps your talents will be used to solve this problem, but it will depend on how long Ambassador Standley needs you.The special request concerning your daughter-in-law has been conveyed to the relevant parties, but the Germans sent these people to Baden-Baden so that our efforts failed.Wells said the group was not in danger, adding that talks to exchange the group were ongoing. Now back to business. General Standley is back in Washington at his own request because he thinks we have mishandled the Lend-Lease supplies.But there are only two ways to deal with leased materials: unconditional assistance, or assistance on the basis of compensation.We gave out again and again, never asking for accounts, never asking for reasons, never making barter arrangements; this practice greatly annoyed the old general.That's our policy, and it is.Standley was a brilliant old fellow, but as usual, the President was way ahead of him.

The President's comprehensive policy toward the Russians consists of three demands, which are quite simple.Keep it in your mind, Pug: (1) keep the Red Army fighting against Germany (2) urge the Red Army to take action against Japan (3) build a stronger post-war international alliance with the Soviet Union. You know, Lenin made a deal with the Kaiser in 1917 and got out of World War I.Stalin also made a deal with Hitler in 1939 to stay out of the war.If Hitler hadn't attacked him, he would still be out of it.The president doesn't forget these things. Regardless of Stalin's lip service, I doubt that Hitlerism was really a scourge for him, himself a dictator ruling a police state.He had slept comfortably in the same bed with Hitler for two years.Now Russia was invaded, so he had to fight.He's a pragmatist through and through, and the intel we've got suggests they've been reaching out to each other, probing and talking.There was always the possibility of a separate peace on that front, if Germany would pay enough.

But this is not yet possible.Hitler had to acquire considerable land to convince his people that so much German blood had been shed in vain.The more we can empower the Russians, the less likely Stalin will be able to make the deal.We want him to drive all the Germans out of Russia and move on to Berlin.That way, millions of American lives won't be lost, because we went to war to destroy Nazism, and we won't stop until that end is achieved. Therefore, to hope that rented goods will bring us money back is to confuse the purpose.The Russians compensated us by destroying a large number of German soldiers, because these German soldiers will not confront us in France in the future.

We have not fulfilled our Lend-Lease obligations to the letter.We're only about seventy percent done.We tried to accomplish the task, and the assistance we provided was extensive, but the German submarines sank many ships, the war against Japan was very costly, and in order to support the North African landings, we had to divert part of the leased supplies, and we also The promise of a second front in Europe has not been fulfilled, not yet.So we cannot be tough on the Russians. Even if we could, it's not a good tactic.We need them more than they need us, and Stalin cannot be fooled about such a fundamental question.He is a very complicated character, very difficult to deal with, like a red Ivan the Great, but I am very happy that he and his people are on our side in this war.We are outspoken in public about this, and we get scolded for it.

General Standley will ask you to try to get compensation.He appreciates your ability to deal with the Russians.It's true that they were able to significantly loosen restrictions on air transport lines, military intelligence, bases that our bombers shuttled through, released our pilots that were shot down over Siberia, and so on.If you can succeed where others have failed, you may be able to win Standley's heart.But on a basic point, General Marshall has told the President that no matter what the Russians can give us as compensation for Lend-Lease supplies, we will not change our strategy or tactics in this war.He fully endorsed unconditional aid.

The President wants you to know all this and to resume writing him informal reports, as you did in Germany.He referred again to your prophecy about the Hitler-Stalin Pact of 1939 and asked you (not entirely jokingly) to inform him as soon as possible if there was any sign of a separate peace over there in your crystal ball . Harry.Huo's letter from the White House on January 12 was not very encouraging; Pug was about to become the former Chief of Naval Operations' staff, and at the beginning of his journey, he was asked to bypass the old admiral and go directly to the General Secretary. Commander to send "informal report" order.The new job seemed to only get him into trouble.Pug took out a piece of information about the Soviet Union from his briefcase and concentrated on studying it. In order to eliminate such troubles, work is indeed the best way.

The Clipper changed course and flew straight to Bermuda without giving any reason.Passengers can watch through the windows of a seaside restaurant for lunch as their planes lift off heavily into the haze of rain and fog.They stayed in Bermuda for several weeks and soon learned that the plane had been recalled to take Franklin.Roosevelt went to the Casablanca Conference.By then the meeting had become a major news item on radio and in newspapers, sharing front-page headlines with the growing collapse of the German army at Stalingrad. Pug did not mind the delay, and there was no need for him to hurry to Russia.In the peaceful years, this small green island far away from the coast in the Atlantic Ocean was a peaceful Eden with flowers blooming and no cars. Now it has become an outpost of the US Navy.Jeeps, trucks and bulldozers rampaged, kicking up clouds of coral dust and exhaust from their engines; bombers on patrol rumbled overhead and gray ships crowded the bay; The streets of the town have become narrower.The idle rich men who lived in those huge pink mansions seemed to have disappeared, as if they were waiting for the Yankees to sink all the annoying German submarines, win the war, and get out of here.The local black residents seemed to be making good money and living happily, despite the smoke and noise. The base commander installed Pug in his beautiful new barracks with a hard tennis court.Except for the occasional game of tennis or poker with the Commander, Pug whiled away his time reading about the Soviet Union.The intelligence materials he brought with him were relatively poor.Wandering through Bermuda's libraries and bookstores, he found some well-spoken British books praising the Soviet Union.They were written by Bernard Shaw, and by Beatrice and Sidney.A couple from Webb.He patiently and tirelessly read through these long and stylized paeans to Russian socialism, but found nothing that a soldier could use. He also came across grimly negative books, mostly by renegade or whistle-blowers, sensational stories of government-organized sham trials, mass murders, famines, and secret concentration camps.In these concentration camps dotted across the communist paradise, millions were forced to labor and toil to death.In these books, the crimes attributed to Stalin appear to be more terrible than the notorious crimes committed by Hitler.Which side is telling the truth?This contradiction seemed to be an impenetrable high wall, which made Victor unable to help.Henry recalled vividly the last time he had gone to the Soviet Union with the Harriman Mission; also the bewildering sense of isolation there, and the frustration of dealing with the people.The Soviets look and act like ordinary people, and they even exude a cordial, albeit timid, charm; but it is these people who can suddenly become like the people of Mars, completely deprived of contact with the outside world. Competence, full of cold, distant hostility. When his flight resumed, he bought a three-volume paperback for the trip—Leon.Trotsky's History of the Russian Revolution.Pug knew that Trotsky was a Jew, an organizer of the Red Army, and second in command to Lenin during the Revolution.He also knew that after Lenin's death, Stalin tried to squeeze him out of power, forced him to flee to Mexico, and later - at least according to those unfriendly publications - sent assassins there to smash his head .He was amazed by the literary beauty of this great work, but shocked by its content.The journey lasted six days, across the Atlantic, over North Africa, through the Middle East, and before I knew it, I arrived in Tehran.This was because he always had Trotsky with him when clouds blocked his view from the vast and spectacular landscape, or when the phone was still off the hook, or when he was spending the night in a bleak mobile home on some Air Force base. with. This voyage across the greater part of the globe, woven together with the flickering epic of the downfall of Tsarism, struck Pug deeply.Trotsky reads as grippingly as a novel in describing the intrigues and counter-conspiracies hatched by ruthless strongmen to seize power.But some long and voluminous Marxist phrases make people feel confused, despite Victor.Henry sincerely tried to understand it, but was unable to do so; but he did realize, vaguely, that in Russia in 1917 a social force erupted like a volcano in an attempt to bring about a great utopian dream.But it seemed to him, on the evidence of Trotsky himself—that the book was intended to celebrate the Revolution—that ideal failed utterly in a sea of ​​blood and horror. Airliners flew from one dusty base to another.Beyond that, Pug saw little of the war in North Africa.According to radio reports, Rommel was making great difficulties for the invaders in North Africa.Day after day the airfoil flies over verdant forests, open deserts, and rugged mountains.Looking down from a high altitude, the pyramids and the Sphinx finally drifted backwards, and the Nile River shone like a green belt. He was delayed in Palestine for half a day, so he had time to drive to Old Jerusalem. Take a walk down the street.Then he was back in the plane with wings outstretched, reading stories of conspiracy, captivity, torture, poison, shooting.All this is done in the name of the socialist fraternity which, it is said, must exist under the Marxist system.When he went to Tehran, he started reading the third volume.So I had to leave the unfinished book on the plane.At the next stop, Trotsky was not welcome. "The whole point, Henry," said General Standley, "is to get in touch with this General Evlenko, and if anyone can do that it can only be you." "What is Yevlenko's official position, general?" Standley made a resigned gesture with his gnarled hands. "Even if I knew and told you, it wouldn't do you any good. He's the head of Lend-Lease supplies, that's all. He's a battle hero, as far as I know. Lost a hand in the Battle of Moscow, and he's got one now." A prosthetic hand with only leather gloves." They were sitting at the long table in the Spasso Building, just the two of them.Pug had been here only an hour from Kuibyshev, and he would have gladly given up this supper and taken a shower before going to bed.But no.This grand and spacious embassy was originally the private residence of a sugar merchant in the tsarist era. Here, the diminutive old general was like a lost lamb in this big mansion.He had built up his belly on the Lend-Lease Act, and Pug's arrival just provided him with a punching bag. Standley said the President had promised him in Washington that the Lend-Lease mission would come under his control.The relevant orders had been issued, but the head of the mission, a man named General Fairmontville, was obedient to the President's will.Standley became more and more excited, blushing, barely touched his plate of chicken stew, and approached the boxing table frequently, calling Harry.Hopkins must have been playing tricks, he must have told Fairmontville that the order was nothing, that these generous handouts had to go on.But he, Standley, had come out of his retirement to fill the office at the invitation of the President.He intends to fight for America's best interests, no fear, Harry.Hopkins wasn't afraid either. "Well, I remember, Pug," said Standley, giving him a sudden glare, "and this General Yeshirenko mentioned a Harry more than once in my social conversations. Hopkins Adams' military aide, I know he's referring to you, hey? What's going on here?" Pug replied cautiously: "General, when we came here with Harriman in 1941, the President needed a report on sightings at the front. Mr. Hopkins assigned me because I had raided A Russian course. I met Yeshilenko up ahead, and maybe the spy who accompanied me gave him the idea." "Hmph, is it?" The ambassador's angry eyes slowly changed into a sly look, and his face was wrinkled with a smile. "I get it! Well, if that's the case, don't try to correct that guy. If he really thinks you're Gary Gopkins' confidant, you can actually push him into action. Here , Gary Gopkins is Santa Claus," Pug and William first met ten years ago.The scene of the Standley meeting is still vivid.At that time Standley inspected the "West Virginia" as Chief of Naval Operations. He was a straight, serious and steady four-star admiral, short in stature, and his white uniform was shining with gold.He was No. 1 in the Navy, but he spoke consolingly to the lowly Lieutenant Commander Henry about the gunnery training record on the battleships.Standley was alive and well, but how changed!While eating this dinner, Victor.It occurred to Henry that he had given up his post at Pacific Fleet Headquarters as if to help a nervous old man bombard a swarm of mosquitoes.He was full of complaints and went on and on about one thing after another.The Russian Relief Society--with which Standley's own wife had toiled--had not heard a word of thanks for the gifts.Soviet propaganda did not give enough public coverage of the assistance provided by the American Red Cross.The Russians did not provide any compensation for accepting the leased supplies.After complaining like this for about an hour and a half, Pug was really tired of listening to it. Later, while drinking coffee, he finally tentatively asked Standley why he was looking for General Yevlenko. "That's business," replied the Ambassador, "and we'll talk again in the morning. You seem to be very tired. Go to bed." Perhaps it was because of the bright sunlight that streamed into the ambassador's study, or perhaps because the ambassador was particularly good-tempered in the morning, and their second meeting went better.In fact, Standley had a touch of Chief of Naval Operations about him again. Congress was debating the extension of Lend-Lease—he explained—so the State Department wanted a report from the Soviets on how Lend-Lease material was being used on the battlefield.Molotov had agreed "in principle"—this deadly Russian phrase meant an indefinite delay.Molotov had already forwarded the request to Yevlenko's department in charge of leasing supplies.Standley has been urging Fairmontville to obtain the report from Yeshilenko. Fairmontville claims that he is also making the best effort, but so far no results have been seen. Actually worse than no result.In Stalin's last proclamation on the task at hand, the dictator said that the Red Army was bearing the full weight of the war alone, with no assistance from its allies!You see, can Congress accept this statement?These damned Russians, said Standley calmly, just don't understand the depth of anti-Bolshevik sentiment in America.He admired the fighting spirit of the Russians very much.He just wanted to save them from ruining things in their own hands.In any case, he had to get the report on what the loan-lease supplies had done on the field.Otherwise, there may be no more rental materials in June.Entire alliances could collapse and this accursed war could be lost.Pug didn't argue, though he thought that Standley had gone too far.Undoubtedly, the Russo was a bit rude, and his first unflattering task was to try to find General Yevlenko, force him to face this reality, and try to get him to say something about it. For two days he trudged through the streets of Moscow, skirting piles of filthy, still-cleared ice crevasses, and walking among the bustling, ragged pedestrians.After walking from one office building to another in the labyrinth of unmarked government agencies, he found out where Yevlenko's office was located.He had no way of getting a phone number, or even the exact address.A British Air Force attaché he had met in Berlin helped him by pointing out to the building where Yeshilenko had not long ago given him a severe reprimand for bringing in a Forty Airborne Cobras were taken to British troops landing in North Africa.But when Pug tried to enter the building, a rosy-cheeked, stocky young sentinel silently held his bayonet-loaded rifle across his chest, deaf to his angry protests in Russian.Pug returned to his office, dictated a long letter, and took it to the building.Another sentinel took the letter, but days passed without any reply. During this time, Pug met General Fairmontville, a genial Army man who was not the monster Standley depicted him to be.Femonville said he had heard that Evlenko was in Leningrad; he also said that the Americans never went to Yevlenko on business, anyway.People always dealt with him through his liaison officer, whose name can make you chew your tongue, but Standley's liaison officer warned Pug that it was a waste of time and a dead end to find the general who chewed his tongue.The general's only job is to absorb questions and requests like a feather pillow, never responding.At this point he is unparalleled. About a week after this setback, Pug awoke one morning in the Spasso Building to find a note under his bedroom door. Henry - Some American journalists have returned from their visit to the Southern Front; I am going to receive them in my study at nine o'clock this morning.Please come and talk at 8:45. He saw Standley sitting alone at his desk, red and angry.The general threw a pack of Chesterfields at him across the table, and Pug picked it up.Stamped in bright fuchsia ink on the case, the words: From the Party of the Brothers of the New York Workers. "They're all Red Cross or Lend-Lease cigarettes," said the general almost at a loss for words. "It can't be anything else! We send millions of packs of these to the Red Army. Got this one from a Czech last night. The fellow said it was given to him by a Red Army officer and told him Those generous communist comrades in New York are supplying cigarettes to all the Red Army soldiers." Victor.Henry could only shake his head in disgust. "The reporters will be here in ten minutes," Standley said through gritted teeth. "They'll have enough to hear." "General, the new Lend-Lease Bill will be voted on this week. Is this the time to lift the lid?" "It can only be revealed now, to give these villains a head-on blow. Let them know what the consequences of forgetfulness when dealing with the American people are." Pointing to the cigarette case, Pug said, "That's a very low level of knavery. I don't want to make a big deal out of it." "This? I totally agree. Not worth talking about." The reporters came in, all looking bored, clearly disappointed by their visit to the front.They said that, as usual, they could not get close to the front lines.As the guests chatted over coffee, Standley asked if they had seen any American equipment in the field.They didn't see it.A reporter asked the ambassador if he thought Congress would pass the new Lend-Lease Act. "I dare not say that." Standley looked at Victor.Henry glanced at it, and then laid all ten bony fingers flat on the desk in front of him, as if the main turret on a ship was preparing to fire a broadside. "You know, boys, since I've been here I've been looking for evidence that the Russians are taking aid from the British and from us. Not just Lend-Lease supplies, but Red Cross and Russian Relief Societies. I haven't found any evidence of that." The reporters looked at each other, then at the ambassador. "That's right," he went on, tapping his fingers on the table. "We tried to find evidence that the Russians were actually using our munitions on the battlefield. I couldn't find such evidence. The Russian authorities seemed to want to hide the fact that they were receiving foreign aid. Obviously, they wanted their people to believe that The Red Army is fighting alone in this war." "Mr. Ambassador, these words are of course not for publication, are they?" said a reporter, although the reporters were all taking out their notebooks and pencils. "No, it can be published," Drew Standley, effectively dictating to them.The tapping of his fingers became more and more urgent, and the reporters' pens hissed angrily when he paused. "The Soviet authorities are clearly trying to create the impression, at home and abroad, that they are fighting alone from their own resources. I think you can publish these words of mine if you wish." The reporters asked a few more emotional questions and walked out of the room. As Pug walked down the snow-packed streets the next morning from the National Hotel to the Spasso House, he wondered whether the ambassador had been recalled.Over breakfast with reporters at the hotel, he learned that Standley's statement had been on the front pages of newspapers across the United States and Britain.The State Department declined to comment, the president has canceled a regularly scheduled press conference, and Congress is on fire.The world was asking whether Standley was speaking for himself or for Roosevelt.Rumor has it that the Russian censor who allowed the conversation to go abroad has been arrested. On these wide and quiet Moscow streets there are fresh snowflakes blowing in high winds.Hundreds of Russians trudged along, and the usual troop-laden trucks galloped back and forth.In the midst of all this, this sensational event seemed a bit dull, as if it had passed away.Still, Standley did the unbelievable: He publicly vented his personal rage over a delicate and explosive issue between the governments of the United States and the Soviet Union.Can he keep his job? In a cubicle allotted to him as a temporary office, he found on his desk a note from a telephone operator: Please dial 0743. He dialed the number and heard the usual crackling of the Moscow telephone system. And some murmurs, and then a gruff bass: "Who is that?" "I am Captain Victor Henry." "Understood. I am Yevlenko." This time, the guard saluted the U.S. naval officer unnaturally, and let him in. No one spoke.In the large marble foyer, a soldier sitting at a table without a smile looked up and pressed a button. "Colonel Henry?" "yes." A prim girl in military uniform came down the wide, curved staircase. She said in broken English, "Hello? General Ye Shilianke's office is on the second floor. Please follow me." Ornate iron balustrades, marble staircases, marble columns, high vaulted ceilings: this is another Tsarist mansion, and red marble busts of Lenin and Stalin give the building a modern edge.The old paint began to peel off, and large thick pieces of debris made the building show the disrepair that can be seen everywhere in the war years. A long empty corridor leads directly to Yevlenko's office. There was a rattling typing sound.He had been a giant in Pug's memory, but not so much now as he stood up and solemnly extended his left hand over the desk.Perhaps this is because the desk and the room are large, and the picture of Lenin behind him is many times larger than the real person.The pictures on the other walls are black and white reproductions of portraits of some generals from the old Tsarist days.Long, dusty red curtains shut out the gloomy midwinter sun in Moscow.In a high-hanging brass chandelier with curlicues, several unshaded bulbs glowed blindingly. Yevlenko's left hand was strong, although the handshake was awkward.His broad, thick-jawed face looked more slumped than it had been during the German breakthrough on the Moscow front.He wore many medals, including a red and yellow stripe to show he had worn them, and a neat greenish-brown uniform with new gold trim.They both greeted each other in Russian, and Yevlenko pointed to the girl and said: "Well, do we need an interpreter?" She glanced back at Pug expressionlessly: pretty face, thick flaxen hair, lovely red mouth, full breasts, cold expressionless eyes.Since leaving Washington, Pug has spent two hours a day practicing vocabulary and grammar, and his Russian today is at about the same level as when he finished the short course in 1941.He replied intuitively, "No need." The girl turned around and walked out immediately like a wind-up toy.Pug thought that there would still be microphones that would record everything he said, but he needn't be on his guard, and Yevlenko would undoubtedly take care of himself. "One less set of eyes and less ears," he said. Ye Shilianke smiled.Pug's mind immediately went back to that evening spent in a hut near the front.At that time they were drinking and dancing, and Yeshilenko was wearing big and bulky boots and walked around with his arms around Pamela, showing his big teeth when he smiled.Yevlenko waved his right hand towards a sofa and a low table.It was a prosthetic hand, in a stiff brown leather glove, protruding from the tube of the sleeve, looking rather menacing.On the table were cakes, fish fillets, and paper-wrapped sweets in platters, bottles of soft drinks and mineral water, a bottle of vodka, and large and small glasses.Although he didn't want to eat it, Pug took a piece of cake and a bottle of drink.Yevlenko took exactly the same thing as Pug, and while smoking the cigarette in the metal ring on the artificial hand, he said: "I have received your letter. I have been busy, so I have not replied, please forgive me. .I think it's better to talk in person than to write." "I agree." "You asked me to give some information on the use of the loan supplies on the battlefield. Of course we made good use of the loan supplies on the battlefield." He slowed down his speech and used simple words so that Pug could be in the middle of the war. No difficulty in understanding what he meant.His deep, rough voice brought the sound of the battlefield into the office. "However, Hitler's bandits would be grateful if they could know the exact quantity, quality, and performance in the field of the loan-lease materiel used to counter him. They have a means of contacting the New York Times, CBS, etc. It's no secret. The enemy has a long nose, and we must not forget." “那就不要透露德国人可以利用的任何东西。一份概括性的声明就行了。租借物资是很费钱的，你知道。如果要继续提供，我们的总统需要广大人民的支持。” “难道象斯大林格勒战役这样的胜利还不足以赢得美国公众的支持吗？”叶甫连柯用他那只好手抹了抹已经秃了的、头发剪得很短的头顶。“我们粉碎了好几个德国军团。我们扭转了战局。等到你们在欧洲开辟那条一再拖延的第二战场的时候，你们的士兵将会遇到大大削弱了的阻力，伤亡也会比我们少得多。美国人民是聪明的，他们了解这些简单的事实。因此，他们会支持《租借法案》的，而且不是由于一纸'概括性的声明'。” 这些话语和帕格心里想的正好不谋而合，因此他无辞以对。真糟糕！斯坦德莱对这些小节问题这样斤斤计较，叫他如何完成使命。他给自己倒了一杯红色的略带苦味的甜饮料，一口一口地啜着。叶甫连柯走到办公桌旁，带回来了一只厚厚的文件夹，放在桌上打开。他用好手迅速地翻动粘在纸页上的灰色剪报。“再说，你们的莫斯科记者都在睡大觉吗？这些不过是一些在《真理报》、《劳动报》和《红星报》上新近发表的文章，这就是概括性的声明。你自己瞧瞧吧。”他把夹住的烟蒂吸了最后一口，然后用那只没生命的假手熟练地把它捻熄。 “将军，在斯大林先生最近发布的当前任务的文告里，他说到红军正在单独奋战，盟邦并没提供任何援助。” “他是在斯大林格勒战役之后说这番话的。”尖刻的反驳，神态泰然自若，“难道他说的不是实话么？希特勒匪帮抽空了大西洋沿岸的兵力，全部调到东线来，对我们孤注一掷。但丘吉尔还是按兵不动。甚至你们伟大的总统也无法推动他。我们那时不得不依靠自己的力量打赢这场战争。” 这样谈下去谈不出什么结果来，而在北非问题上进行回击也无济于事。既然帕格必须向斯坦德莱作出汇报，他决定索性把鸡毛蒜皮都摊出来，说个明白。“问题不仅是租借物资，红十字会和俄国救济协会对苏联人民作出慷慨的援助，但没看见过有什么领情的表示。” 叶甫连柯做了个难以置信的鬼脸，接着说：“你说的是几百万美元的赠品吗？我们是感恩图报的人民，我们正在用战斗来表示我们的谢意。你还要我们做些什么呢？” “我的大使认为，你们没为我们提供的赠品充分地向公众宣布。” “你的大使？他谅必是代表你的政府讲这番话的，而不是代表他自己？” 帕格感到越来越不安，他回答道：“要求你们提供一份有关租借物资在战场上使用情况的声明的是国务院。你知道，国会即将审议《租借法案》延长生效期的问题。” 叶甫连柯夹上另一支香烟。他的打火机打了好几次才打出火来，在点着香烟之前，他咕哝了几句。“但我们在华盛顿的大使馆告诉我们，《租借法案》延长生效期的提案将会顺利地获得国会的通过。因此，斯坦德莱将军这次大动肝火是非常令人不安的。这是否可能预示罗斯福先生的政策将有所改变？” “我不能代表罗斯福总统说话。” “那么霍普金斯呢？”叶甫连柯通过缭绕的烟雾用狡黠的目光瞅了他一眼。 “哈利，霍普金斯是苏联的好朋友。” “我们知道这一点。事实上，”叶市连柯一边说，一边伸手去取伏特加，突然间变得兴高采烈，“我想和你一起为哈利。霍普金斯的健康干一杯。你看怎样？” 开始了，帕格暗自思量。He nodded.下肚的伏特加留下一条自上而下的火辣辣热流。叶市连柯咂了咂厚嘴唇，朝帕格眨眨眼，这多少使帕格感到有点意外。 “我可以请教一下你的军衔吗？” 帕格用手指着他的海军大衣上肩章的条纹——室内很冷，他当时还穿着大衣——说道：“四条杠。美国海军上校。” 叶市连柯会心地笑了笑。“是的，这个我知道。我讲个真实的故事给你听。一九三三年你的国家开始承认苏联的时候，我们派了一员海军上将和一员海军中将作为武官。你的政府抱怨说，他们的军阶过高，引起外交礼节方面的困难。第二天，他们的军阶分别降为上校和中校，这样一来就事事顺利了。” “我可就是一个上校。” “可是，哈利。霍普金斯却是你们国家里仅次于你们总统的最有势力的人物。” “完全不是这样。不管怎样，这跟我也毫不相干。” “你们大使馆已经配有足够的武官，不是吗？那么，请允许我问一下，你的职务是什么？你是不是哈利。霍普金斯的代表？” “不是。”帕格心里盘算，说得详细一点不会有什么坏处，而且还可能有些好处。因此他接下去说：“事实上，我是直接奉罗斯福总统本人的命令到这儿来的。不过，我仅仅是个海军上校，我可以向你保证。” 叶市连柯将军庄严地盯着他。帕格脸不变色，顶住了将军的审视。换一下口味，现在且让俄国佬来摸摸我们的底吧。he thinks. “哎，我懂了。既然你是总统的特使，那就请你澄清一下他对租借物资的疑虑吧，”叶甫连柯说，“这些疑虑导致你的大使来一次如此令人不安的发作。” “我没权力这样做。” “亨利上校，作为我们向哈利。霍普金斯表示的礼遇，你得以在一九四一年正当战局危急的时刻访问了莫斯科前线。同时在你的请求下，一位英国记者和一位充当他秘书的女儿陪同你进行访问。” “是的，你在听得见枪炮声的距离内给予我们的殷勤款待，我是牢记在心的。” “那好，事有凑巧，我可以为你再安排一次这样的访问。我即将离开莫斯科到现场视察租借物资的供应情况。我要巡视一些正在进行军事行动的前线地区。我不会进入任何火力区。”——他露出大牙板笑了笑——“不会故意上那儿去，但危险是会有的。如果你愿意和我同行并就租借物资的战地使用情况向霍普金斯先生和你的总统提出、一份目击情况报告，我可以作出安排。而且，到那时我们或许还可以就一份'概括性声明'达成协议。” “我同意。什么时候出发？”尽管出乎他的意料，帕格还是抓住这个机会。如果斯坦德莱反对，就让他去否决吧。 “就这样？按照美国方式。”叶甫连柯站起身来，伸出左手。“我会通知你的。看样子我们将先到列宁格勒。我可以告诉你——一年多来没任何记者到过那里，我相信也没任何外国人到过。你知道，它还处在被困状态，但是包围圈已经被打开缺口。已经有一些通道，不太危险。列宁格勒是我出生的地方，因此我乐于接受到那儿去走一趟的机会。自从我母亲在围城期间死去之后，我还没到过那儿呢。” “我为她感到难过，”帕格尴尬地说。“她是在炮击中牺牲的吗？” “不，她是饿死的。”