The Scarlet Generation

by Christopher Nicole

  But now Alex could contemplate taking life, from their point of view innocent life, and certainly not in self-defence, simply because he might be ordered to do so. Had he changed that much? Or had he changed at all, and was only now revealing his true self? His Russian self, his innately savage self. He was the man who, up to five minutes ago at least, she had been going to marry. She heard a footstep and turned, sharply, but it was Olga Kaminskaya, armed to the teeth as usual. “Running away, Comrade?” Olga asked.

  “Don’t you sometimes wish you could?” Elaine asked. “Don’t you wish you could snap your fingers, and be somewhere else?”

  “It is not good to think like that,” Olga said. “That way lies madness. Look, that pond is free of ice.”

  Elaine turned to look as directed. “I’ll bet it’s still pretty cold.”

  “Oh, nearly freezing,” Olga agreed, and began taking off her weapons. “The Colonel says you think we all need a bath.”

  “Don’t you?” Elaine asked. “But that is another dream, and you tell me we must not dream.”

  “I am going to bathe,” Olga said, continuing to undress. “Look.” She had put her hand in her pocket and now she produced a cake of soap. “I have saved this, all winter.” Although it was not at that moment raining, and the sun was attempting to peep through the clouds and even penetrate the trees, it remained very cold; Olga’s entire body was tumescent as she removed the last of her clothes. Elaine had been struck with the almost feline grace and power of the woman when she had examined her. But that had been clinical. Out here in the woods Olga was beautiful, especially as she had freed her black hair and was shaking it loose round her shoulders. “Brrr,” she said, passing her hands lightly over her breasts. “Do you not also need a bath?”

  “I had one last week, before leaving Moscow. If you don’t mind, I’ll let the weather warm up a bit.”

  Olga carefully pocketed her soap; it was quite dry again, its softness coagulated in the cold. “That is a shame,” she remarked. “If you would bathe, we could make love together. It is better than with a man.” She giggled. “There is no risk of pregnancy.”

  Elaine had never been so embarrassed in her life. Such suggestions were not made in Concord, Mass., or Boston either, for that matter, even among three young women who had shared a somewhat small flat. “Listen!” Olga said. “People!” Elaine felt utterly relieved as she peered into the trees and the two figures staggering towards them. “It is Tatiana,” Olga said. “That is good. But...” she also stared at the two women. “Where is Valya?”

  The entire group sat or stood around the fire, while Tatiana and Natasha ate hot food and drank vodka. They were both still in a state of some shock, and what they had to say put most of their companions into shock as well. “We did not know Constantina was still in Brest-Litovsk,” Natasha said.

  “We did not know she was still alive,” Tatiana said. “We thought that someone would have strangled her by now. Or that she would have been sent off to Germany. But she was there, bold as brass...”

  “So well-dressed. So prosperous,” Natasha said.

  “Standing on the pavement beside a German officer’s wife,” Tatiana said. “Staring at us.”

  “She recognised me,” Natasha said.

  “I think she was terrified,” Tatiana said. “She started shouting and screaming and pointing...” Our commissar, Elaine thought, unable to suppress her contempt. Reduced to a frightened little girl.

  “But you got away,” Gerasimov prompted.

  “We ran. We knew we had to hide until dark, but they came after us. We hid, and then we were seen again. I don’t think they knew it was us; they were just looking for three women. We decided we would just walk away from them. But they called on us to halt, so we ran.” She flushed, and glanced at the colonel. “I suppose that was very foolish of us.”

  “Very,” he agreed.

  “Then Valya slipped and fell.” Natasha took up the tale. “We stopped and looked back. The Germans were very close, and she shouted, ‘Help me!”‘

  “Then why did you not?” Olga inquired.

  “I tried,” Tatiana said. “I fired at her. But I missed. Then I saw her draw her own gun, but before she could use it the Germans were upon her.”

  “There was nothing more we could do,” Natasha said. “We had to get away.”

  “And you succeeded,” Gerasimov remarked, contemptuously. “Leaving your comrade in their hands.”

  “There was nothing more we could do!” Natasha shouted.

  Tatiana looked at Feodor, who sighed. “Well, as she will certainly tell them our plans, this operation is off. We shall have to think of some other way of striking at them.”

  “What makes you so sure she will tell them our plan?” Elaine demanded. “She struck me as being a very brave, determined woman.”

  “Comrade,” Olga said, pityingly. “Valya is no longer a woman. She is a thing, so overwhelmed with pain and self-disgust she will wish only to be dead. But she cannot be dead, until she has told them what they wish. So she must exist in agony, until she tells them what they wish. There is no possibility of resisting the sort of torture they can inflict.”

  Elaine bit her lip and glanced at Alex. But his face was determinedly impassive. “Well, there it is,” Gerasimov said. “The meeting is ended.”

  “No,” Tatiana said, her voice low. “The meeting is ended when I say so. I am the Commissar.” The partisans exchanged glances. “Valya is dead,” Tatiana said. “And before she died, she will have told the Germans...what? That we were reconnoitering the town with the view to attacking them. She did not know what we were going to attack, or how, or when, because I did not tell her. I have told no one, save Colonel Gerasimov and Captain Ligachev. So there is no need for us to abandon our plans. And now we have Valya to avenge, as well.”

  “That is madness,” Shatrav grumbled, as usual. “If they know we mean to attack them, they will double their guards, their alertness.”

  “They may well do that, but they will think like you, Comrade Shatrav. They will think that we have abandoned our plan, because we know they will expect us. Well, we shall confirm their conclusion. We will divide our forces. Forty determined men and women can do as well as sixty; it is only a matter of degree. Captain Ligachev, you will take twenty comrades and proceed north to the railway line and the bridge. Exactly where we attacked last year. At a moment to be arranged you will assault the guard-post.”

  “With twenty men?” Feodor asked in dismay. “That is now virtually a fort, with a garrison of at least fifty.”

  “It has machine-guns,” someone said.

  “And a mortar,” Shatrav put in for good measure.

  “That is because it remains their most vulnerable position in this vicinity,” Tatiana pointed out. “When I say assault, I do not mean you must carry it by the charge. You will open fire on it with everything you have. Colonel Gerasimov, you will accompany them with your rocket-launcher and fire rockets into the post.”

  “While you do what?” Gerasimov demanded.

  “I will lead the larger force to the outskirts of Brest-Litovsk. The Germans will be alarmed by the attack on the railway bridge, and will despatch reinforcements to the post, especially as they will be convinced that we have entirely changed our plans since their capture of Valya. Once they have done that, we will have no trouble in entering the town.”

  “You are basing your entire plan upon an assumption of what the Germans will do,” Gerasimov objected.

  “Well?” Tatiana demanded. “Is that not what every general has done since time began? The successful ones are those who made the accurate assumptions.” She looked round their faces. “It is dangerous, but so is any assault.”

  “It could work,” Feodor said.

  “It will work,” Tatiana insisted. “The operation will take place on Saturday night; there is no moon and, hopefully, there will be cloud cover. But I will select the teams now. Olga, you will come with me, as will Natasha; she kn
ows the layout of the city. You will also come with me, Gregory. Shatrav will accompany Captain Ligachev.” She went through the entire group, selecting each man or woman by name. Six, three men and three women, the oldest, were chosen to remain. “But not in the camp,” Tatiana told them. “You must be prepared to give covering fire to Captain Ligachev’s group, in the first instance. And then to us.”

  Bebrikov, who would command, nodded with grim determination.

  “That leaves only the medics,” Feodor said.

  “They are of no use to us on the operation,” Tatiana said.

  “Of course we can be of use,” Alex protested.

  “Can you shoot straight? Have you ever shot at a man?” Tatiana demanded.

  “Well...no. But you are sure to suffer casualties.”

  “You know our rule about casualties, Comrade Cousin. You will be needed, here, to care for those who make it back.”

  “That kind of puts us in our place,” Elaine remarked. They stood together at the fringe of trees, looking out across the abandoned cornfields. It was the first time they had been alone together in several days, and Elaine was very grateful that Alex had elected to walk with her. She had in fact been rather unnerved by Olga’s proposal, even if it hadn’t been repeated: that was because Olga had been preoccupied since Tatiana’s return. As she had been warned that sexual relationships within the group were on a casual basis, she had anticipated some heterosexual advances — but as there had been none she had relaxed, assuming that everyone understood she was Alex’s girl. Now she had to come to grips with the fact that sexual relationships were even more casual than she had supposed, and by no means as orthodox.

  It was hardly something she could discuss with Alex, simply because she had no idea what his reaction might be. They seemed to have been gradually growing apart since their arrival in Russia, certainly since they had entered the Marshes. But now they were on their own again, rejected by the main group, simply because they were not professional killers. Back to the Hippocratic Oath. “I have to admit,” she said, “that I didn’t think she was up to taking decisions like that. Not after the state she was in when she first came back. Do you think they’ll make it?”

  “Some of them,” he said. She glanced at him, and he flushed. She knew he was thinking of Tatiana, and not in the least because she was group leader. What bothered her was that it might not even be because she was his cousin. “People!” he said.

  They both instinctively dropped to their knees, and then to their stomachs; the snow had all gone, but the ground remained wet and soggy, as were the fields. But it was not actually raining at the moment, and slowly rumbling and splashing towards them were four tanks, two lorries, and two command cars, bouncing across the uneven ground. “It’s an attack!” Elaine whispered.

  “Get back and alert the others!” Alex said.

  “While you do what?”

  He grinned. “No heroics. I’m just going to keep an eye on them. If they start to come in, I’ll run, believe me.”

  Elaine hesitated, but it made military sense to keep the Germans under surveillance. She crawled away from him for some 50 yards until she was out of sight of the enemy through the tree screen, then she rose to her feet and ran over the uneven ground, stumbling in and out of puddles, ignoring the cold and wet discomfort.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” It was Shatrav.

  “Germans!” she panted. “Coming into the swamp. Alex has stayed behind, watching them.”

  Shatrav produced his whistle, and blew a prolonged blast. “If this is some kind of joke —” he warned.

  “Come back with me, and I’ll show you.”

  He preferred to wait until he was joined by the officers and another dozen partisans. “Coming into the swamp?” Gerasimov demanded. “It makes no sense. Their vehicles can never get in here until the ground dries.”

  “It may well be a reconnaissance to determine just what strength we possess,” Tatiana said. “Olga, you will return to the camp and put it in a state of defence. Two blasts on the whistle means we are falling back on you, and will defend the camp. Three blasts means we are scattering into the woods and not offering resistance. Now, show me these Germans, Dr Mitchell.”

  Again Elaine had to admire the way someone so young could take command of a situation. She set off back through the trees, but had not yet regained the fringe when they encountered Alex. “Where is the enemy?” Tatiana demanded.

  “They have withdrawn.”

  “Do you mean they came twenty miles just to have a look, and then went away again?”

  “No,” Alex said. His face was grey. “Come.”

  He led them back through the trees until they could see the fields, and the large wooden cross that had been erected some hundred yards away. “Shit!” Feodor muttered.

  Tatiana levelled her glasses. “It is Valya,” she confirmed. “What is left of her.” Gerasimov took the glasses to see for himself.

  “We must help her!” Elaine used Alex’s glasses to study the naked body which had been nailed to the cross, at wrist and shoulder, groin and through each thigh; where Valya had once had breasts were bloody wounds, and there were scorch marks around her hairless groin.

  “Help her?” Feodor’s voice was thick.

  “Well...at least we must give her a decent burial.”

  “Do you not suppose they have snipers posted overlooking her?” Tatiana asked. “They are just waiting for us to leave shelter and go to her.”

  “You can’t just leave her there to rot,” Elaine protested. “She is doing no one any harm,” Tatiana told her.

  Alex licked his lips. “Will you still go ahead with your plan?”

  “Of course,” Tatiana said. “But we will delay it for three weeks, until the next moonless period. By then they will have ceased overlooking Valya.” She looked from face to face. “And now we have a good reason to kill Germans, eh?”

  “It is more than a fortnight, now, Herr Colonel,” Captain Clausen said. “And there has been no movement from inside the swamp.”

  “And the woman?” Alexander asked.

  “She still hangs there, mainly by her bones, now. She has been attacked by birds. Once the weather really warms up they will soon have her picked clean.”

  “Well, as I have no doubt there are people skulking in that bog, we shall leave her there as a warning. But I agree that you may pull your people out. However, I still intend to launch a sweep through that forest as soon as this abysmal rain stops and the ground has had time to harden.”

  “Yes, Herr Colonel,” Clausen agreed doubtfully. He felt that this operation could only be unpleasant and would cost men, in return for perhaps half-a-dozen living scarecrows captured to be tortured to death like the woman. That did not appear a businesslike exchange.

  “So, I would like a complete plan of action on my desk tomorrow morning,” Alexander said. “Especially in relation to the men available, and the best possible maps of the Pripet. You will refer Major Pritwitz to me should he cause any trouble. We must have his men, and I will need a back-up from Pinsk as well.”

  “Of course, Herr Colonel. But, with respect, there are no maps available of the Pripet.”

  “None were captured from the garrison?”

  “I do not think the garrison had any, either.”

  “Damnation! And that woman gave us no information?”

  “We asked her about the people in there, not the nature of the marsh, Herr Colonel.”

  “And she told us not more than sixty, but armed and dangerous. Well, that is certainly not a force to be afraid of. But there must be some people in this godforsaken place who know their way into the Marshes. Find one, Clausen. More than one would be better. Offer them whatever you have to, but we will need guides.”

  “I will see what can be done, Herr Colonel.”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Alexander ordered, and left the office. He felt a glow of pleasant anticipation. He was an intelligent, thinking man, to a degree introspectiv
e, and spent a good deal of time examining himself and his motives. These last were simple enough: he intended to rise in the hierarchy of the Party. He already knew he was one of Heydrich’s protégés. Heydrich liked his people to be cold and ruthless, unbending and, remarkably, fair. Fair, that is, to the Nazi principles and their approach to every subject. Humanity did not come into it. But humanity was inescapable...or inhumanity. Alexander found one of the most interesting aspects of his own character, and the characters of those with whom he worked and whom he commanded, was the way over the past few years their humanity had grown, and changed, into an inhumanity that would have been terrifying had it not been both necessary and inescapable.

  He remembered being terrified when he had knelt beside the dead body of his friend Colin Bolugayevski. As hardly more than a boy he had witnessed some very grim sights during the Great Civil War, when he had fought beside Count Colin — as he had then been — against the Reds. But that had become a distant memory during the relatively civilised years in Paris, and memories of the war, whether the Great War or the Russian Civil War, had been shared with so many people. His return to Germany with Anna had reawakened his fears. But he had become one of the elite mainly because of Hitler’s interest in his wife. He had never begrudged that, had then, as now, sought only advancement. The difference was that then he had not known what would be entailed. Working for Hitler, or, more precisely, for Roehm and then Himmler and Heydrich, had taught him the true meaning of personal violence. The first time he had been required to beat a man’s face into a bloody pulp he had vomited in sheer disgust. But that had passed, and soon he had been enjoying what he had to do, the sense of power that surged through his arteries with every blow.