Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(66)

He saw Major Stepanov's stricken face. Alexander said nothing for a moment. "Whereis his mother?" he asked at last.

"Dead since 1930," replied Stepanov.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Areyou proud of me?"

"Very proud, son."

They sat by Yuri like this, the two warriors, listening to Yuri's labored breathing, watching his slowly blinking eyes.

And then the breathing was no longer labored, and the eyes were no longer blinking, and Major Stepanov hung his head and cried, and Alexander, unable to take it, walked out of the medic's tent.

He was leaning against a supply truck, smoking, when Stepanov walked outside.

"I'm sorry, sir," said Alexander.

Stepanov extended his hand to Alexander. "You're a fine soldier, Lieutenant Belov," he said, in a tight voice. "I have been in the Red Army since 1921, and I will tell you right now--you're a fine soldier. Your refusal to retreat, to leave your dead behind, where does it all come from? Don't say you're sorry. Because of you, I said goodbye to my only child. Because of you he will be buried. He will have rest. And I will, too." Stepanov did not let go of Alexander's hand.

"It was nothing, sir," said Alexander, lowering his head.

The Winter War ended days later on 13 March, 1940. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

The Soviets never did regain Vyborg.

In Front of Mekhlis, 1943

The question before him was who he was. His time was up. He knew. Standing up, he remembered verse of Kipling's "If," almost as if his own father were speaking to him.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings,

and risk it on one turn of pitch and toss,

and lose, and start again, at your beginnings,

and never breathe a word about your loss.

They called for him, and when he was led back before the tribunal, he was almost cheerful.

"Well, Major, have you thought about it?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is your answer?"

"My answer is that I am Alexander Belov, from Krasnodar, a major in the Red Army."

"Are you the American expatriate Alexander Barrington?"

"No, sir."

And then they were all quiet. Outside was a fresh May day. Alexander wanted to be outside again. The faces on him were somber, unblinking. He became somber and unblinking himself. One of the generals was tapping a pencil against the wooden desk. Stepanov's eyes were discreetly on Alexander and when their glances locked, Stepanov nodded lightly.

Finally General Mekhlis spoke. "I was afraid that would be your answer, Major. Had you said yes, we would be talking to the U.S. State Department. Now the question before me is what do I do with you? I have been given complete authority over the disposition of your fate. My colleagues and I have conferred while you were outside. The decision before us is a difficult one. Even if you are telling the truth, the accusations against you rest on your shoulders along with all your bars and follow you in the Red Army wherever you go. The swirl of rumor, of suspicion, of innuendo, it doesn't end. It won't end. And if makes your job as an officer so much harder, and our job of defending you against other false accusations, against men afraid to fight under your command, so much harder."

"I'm used to challenges, sir."

"Yes, but we don't need them." Mekhlis raised his hand. "And don't interrupt, Major. If you're lying, however, all the same things apply, except now we as a government and a protector of our people have made a terrible mistake and will be made to look foolish and humiliated when the truth is eventually revealed. And you know one thing about truth--it always comes out in the end. Do you see how, whether you are lying or telling the truth, you are tainted property to us?" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"If I may, General," interjected Stepanov. "We are fighting a frantic war in which we are losing men faster than we can conscript them, we are losing weapons faster than we can make them, and we're losing ranking officers faster than we can replace them. Major Belov is an exemplary soldier. Surely we can find something for him to do in the name of the Red Army?" When Stepanov encountered no argument, he continued. "He can be sent to Sverdlovsk to make tanks and cannons. He can be sent to Vladivostok to mine iron ore, he can be sent to Kolyma, or to Perm-35. In any of those places he can remain a productive member of Soviet society."

Mekhlis scoffed. "We have plenty of other men to mine iron ore. And why should we waste a Red Army major on making a cannon?"

Alexander imperceptibly shook his head with amusement. Well done, Colonel Stepanov, he thought. A moment from now you will be having them beg for me to remain in the army, whereas a moment ago they were ready to shoot me themselves.

Stepanov continued on Alexander's behalf. "He is not a major any longer. He has been stripped of his rank upon his arrest. I see no problem with sending him to Kolyma."

"Then why are we still calling him Major?" Mekhlis puffed.

"Because he remains what he is even if the bars have been removed from his shoulders. He has been a commanding officer for seven years. He commanded men during the Winter War, he has fought to keep the Germans on the other side of the Neva, he has manned the Road of Life, and he fought alongside his men in four Neva campaigns last summer trying to break the blockade."