Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(101)

"You're headed over to the Vistula, aren't you? To Pulawy?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

"I know you are, you know how? Two of your Soviet divisions, one armored, one infantry, a thousand men in all, went that way. No one came back." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"They're not supposed to come back."

"You're not listening. They're not moving forward either. They're all in the river. Every one of your Soviet men."

Alexander looked at her thoughtfully.

"I don't care a whit about them, no more than I do about the Germans. But you treated me with a bit of respect. I'm going to tell you a better way," she said.

Alexander was listening.

"You're going too far north. You're headed straight into the German defense. There are hundreds of thousands of them. They're lying in wait for you across the Vistula. They kill you all and they will killyou . Remember, it was a walkover in Byelorussia because they didn't give a shit about Byelorussia."

Alexander wanted to beg to differ that it was a walkover in Byelorussia but kept quiet.

The Vistula is the last large river before the Oder on the border of Poland and Germany and the Oder flows practically through Berlin. Across the river and north to Warsaw, you will never get through, I don't care how many tanks and planes you have."

"I don't have any planes," said Alexander. "And only one tank."

"You need to move fifty kilometers south and cross the river at its narrowest point. There is a bridge there, though I'm sure it's been mined--"

"How do you know this?"

She smiled. "First of all, I used to live in Tarnow, not too far from there. And second, the f*cking Fritzes when they went out of here a month ago talked German as if I didn't understand. They think we're all idiots. I'm sure the short white-and-blue bridge there has been mined. Don't take the bridge. But the river is shallow. You can build pontoons for the deepest point, but I bet all of you can swim. You'll even get your tank across. The forest is not well defended: it's too thick and mountainous. I'm not guaranteeing it's undefended. Just not well defended. It's mostly partisan groups over there--both German and Soviet. If you can get across, you'll get right into the woods and past those woods is almost Germany! At least you'll have a chance. But if you cross the Vistula at Pulawy or Dolny, you're all dead."

She stopped. "Well, here we are." She pointed to a small residential house. The lights were all on. She smiled. "That's how you know us sinners. Any time of night, the lights are always on."

He smiled back.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm glad I didn't have to do one more tonight. I'm exhausted." She touched his chest. "Though I wouldn't have minded one more with you."

Alexander adjusted her dress. "What's your name?"

She smiled. "Vera," she replied. "Means faith in Russian, right? And you?" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"I'm Alexander," he said. "The white-and-blue bridge down near Tarnow...does it have a name?"

Vera kissed him lightly on the lips. "Most do Swietokryzst.The bridge to Holy Cross."

The next morning Alexander sent five men north to Pulawy on a reconnaissance trip to the Vistula. The men did not come back. He sent another five men straight across to Dolny. The men did not come back.

It was the start of August and the reports coming from Warsaw were slow and grim. Despite much talk of pushing the Germans out of Warsaw, the Germans remained exactly as they were, reports of Soviet casualties were monumental and Poles, incited by the Soviets and spurred on by false promises of Soviet help had risen against the Germans by themselves and were now being massacred.

Alexander waited a few more days, but in the absence of good news, he took Ouspensky and they walked through the forest to the Vistula where they hid in the banks and watched the silent bulrushes on the other side. They were almost alone--if they looked straight ahead. Behind them were two NKGB troops, with slung rifles. No penal battalion officers were allowed to wander through Poland on their own even if it was ostensibly for a recon mission. The NKGB was the omnipresent police. They didn't fight the Germans, they just guarded the Gulag prisoners. There had not been a single day during the past year when they were not in Alexander's eyesight.

"I hate those bastards," muttered Ouspensky.

"I don't think about them." Alexander ground his teeth. He did not stop thinking about them.

"You should. They want harm to come to you."

"I don't take it personally." He took it personally.

They smoked. The morning was sunny and clear. The river reminded Alexander...He smoked, and lit up another and another--to poison his memory with nicotine. "Ouspensky, I need your advice."

"Honored, sir."

"I have been ordered to force the bridgehead at Dolny at sunrise tomorrow."

"Looks quiet," said Ouspensky.

"It looks it, doesn't it? But what if"--he inhaled--"what if I told you that you were going to die tomorrow?"

"Captain, you're describing to me my life for the last three years."

Alexander continued. "What if I told you we could go downriver where the German defenses aren't as heavy, and live? I don't know for how long, and I don't know if in the end it would make a bit of difference, but it certainly feels that the winds of destiny are at our heels this summer morning. Live or die, they whisper."