Opening Moves

There was nothing but stunned silence Stalin looked around him, expecting some comments but there were none, so he continued puffing gently as his eyes swept the room.

His voice broke the strained silence.

“Place your units in the charge of your deputies if you must, but work hard and give the Motherland a plan for victory. There will be no excuse for not being ready Comrades, none.”

No one present doubted that, but such a short period of time to plan such a huge enterprise?

One Marshall, his shaven head already full of orders and maps, stood and waited to be recognised.

Stalin acknowledged him with a gesture of his head.

“Comrade General Secretary, as you say, the political plan is good and the timing is right. We can and will present the military plan but we lack vital details.”

This was the one thing that had, for some reason best known to the General Secretary, been omitted from the documents.

“Yes you are right Comrade Marshall, the details of who will command and oversee Operations.”

“Yes Comrade General Secretary.”

“That decision had not been reached until today.”

Looking around at the rest of the GKO, Stalin received the expected nods of assent from all, even though only Beria and Bulganin knew which names were to follow.

“The command of the Far East Front will be placed in the capable hands of Comrade Marshall Vasilevsky.” The recipient acknowledged his appointment by standing up and clicking to attention.

“Command of the newly created Red Banner Forces of Soviet Europe will fall to…”

Stalin’s voice trailed off and he slowly, almost theatrically, looked around the room, most managing to avoid his eye as his gaze swept over them before returning to the officer standing who had posed the question.

“Well, you of course Comrade Marshall Zhukov. Who else would we entrust this great venture to but Georgy the Victory Bringer?”

Chapter 4 – THE INFORMATION

The tragedy of war is that it uses man’s best to do man’s worst.

Henry Fosdick

2350 hrs, Thursday, 28th June 1945, Scientist’s Residential Block, Los Alamos, New Mexico.

Emilia Beatriz Perlo was always in demand. She was twenty-five years of age and had all the classic Mediterranean beauty associated with her lineage, from smouldering hazel eyes framed by heavy eyelashes, shoulder length jet-black hair that hung in natural curls, through to a full and extremely curvaceous body, all of which made Emilia the subject of much attention and desire amongst her fellow scientists.

Her speciality was algebra, and in particular algebraic geometry. She was outstanding in her field, even at such a young age. Perlo’s abilities within the field of Mathematical Physics meant she stood out in a peer group of outstanding talent.

Having been sent from her native Spain in 1934 when her family saw the civil war coming, she resided with her Aunt in Washington, entering the American education system as a regular student. It was not long before her incredible talents became noticed and she was nurtured through higher education and into a government programme.

She was nineteen years old when she received the news that her father had been killed in action, fighting alongside the Nationalist forces during the Battle of Teruel on 21st February 1938.

She was twenty-one years old when her aunt sat her down and told her the truth.

Her father was not a nationalist but was a communist who had sided with the Republicans. He had remained as a spy inside the Nationalist forces, supplying information to his communist commanders and risking his life daily in the process.

In an awful twist of fate, he was accidentally shot by a nationalist soldier when clandestinely returning to his encampment after contacting another republican agent with vital information. The nationalists honoured him with a full military funeral as befitted his major’s rank and status, and the Republican hierarchy mourned his passing and the loss of intelligence they would now sustain.

Her aunt spoke of so much more; of ideals, of politics and of a future classless society where all were of equal status and worth, and she wove such a spell that the young Emilia was swiftly hooked into the communist ideal.