We’ll drive this foe from our borders, just as our ancestors sent Napoleon’s legions home in defeat. The German supply lines are probably stretched so thin that a single spirited counterattack will turn the” A loud explosion from the outside suddenly sent the boxcar swaying from side to side and the distinctive staccato blast of the caboose-borne machine gun could be heard from the rear of the train. This was accompanied by the rousing voice of Senior Lieutenant Ryutin.
“Stuka attack! To your rifles, men!”
Another deep explosion sounded outside and the brothers rose to arm themselves with their newly issued carbines. Well acquainted with the workings of a rifle, they loaded their weapons, ran to the rear of the boxcar and climbed a ladder that led to a hinged door that had been cut into the ceiling. Scrambling through the opening, they crouched on the roof of the swaying boxcar.
The machine gun chattered behind them. Mikhail was first to spot the lone, silver-skinned, single-engine fighter in the process of sweeping down out of the cloudless blue sky.
“On the eastern horizon! It’s headed straight for us!”
“Surely they don’t expect us to shoot it out of the sky with rifles,” Alexander shouted.
“We don’t have much choice in the matter, do we, brother? Besides, all it takes is one well placed bullet to take the Stuka down. And perhaps one of us will be the lucky one to do it.”
Alexander raised the barrel of his rifle as the Stuka screamed toward them, strafing the train with a salvo of bullets. Several of the rounds crashed into the machine gun emplacement on the caboose, killing the two soldiers who had been manning it.
“Our only chance is that machine gun,” Mikhail yelled as the Stuka turned to begin another pass.
With the train steaming northward at top speed, they managed to jump onto the roof of the caboose. The sandbagged emplacement was covered with blood, as they pushed the dead gunners aside and took up positions behind the machine gun.
“It still looks operational,” Mikhail said as he fed in a fresh belt of ammunition. He was in the process of clearing the breech, when his brother called out excitedly.
“Here it comes! Out of the east!”
Mikhail gripped the trigger with both hands and swung the barrel up to meet the diving war plane. It was coming in head on, and Mikhail waited until he had its swirling propeller in view before pressing the trigger.
The machine gun bucked wildly, but with his brother’s help, he was able to stabilize the barrel. The sound of exploding shells rose with deafening intensity as the Stuka loomed like a giant winged beast, sweeping low over the surrounding forest of pines, on a collision course with the speeding train. With his machine gun still roaring, Mikhail raised his aim, centering the vibrating barrel on the aircraft’s cockpit. He could actually see the German pilot hunched over his controls, when the Stuka suddenly blew apart and disintegrated before his startled eyes. The heat of this mid-air blast singed Mikhail’s hair but that was of little consequence.
The brothers had stood up to the best that the Luftwaffe could throw at them, and had come out victorious.
The twins looked up as Senior Lieutenant Ryutin climbed down onto the caboose and offered his hand in congratulations.
“Thank the heavens I didn’t leave you two back at the rail yard,” said the grinning veteran.
“It takes a real man to face almost certain death like the two of you did. I’m proud to have you under my command. What do you say about scaring up some vodka? I don’t know about you two, but this old-timer needs a drink.”
A series of shrill blasts of the train whistle accompanied them as they climbed down into the boxcar. A bottle of clear, potent potato-distilled liquor materialized, and as the spirits were passed around, the senior lieutenant delivered a blow-by-blow description of their encounter with the Stuka. Mikhail humbly accepted the handshakes and hugs of his comrades. Yet after only a single sip of vodka, he seated himself on the straw-covered floor and fell soundly asleep and allowed his brother to take all the laurels of their victory.
Mikhail awoke several hours later. As his eyes opened, he realized the train had stopped moving. The boxcar was empty, and he stood up stiffly and went to the open doorway. Outside, he spotted his detachment gathered on a broad, clover-filled clearing. Behind them was a walled compound. A golden-domed cupola capped by a Russian Orthodox cross graced one of the structures that lay inside, and Mikhail knew they had reached their destination, the monastery of Tsarkoe Selo. The sun was high in the sky as he climbed down out of the boxcar and joined his comrades.
“The hero has awoken,” greeted Senior Lieutenant Ryutin.
“You’re just in time to hear the rest of our orders.
Make yourself comfortable, comrade Kuznetsov.
I’m certain that you’ll find this briefing most fascinating.”
As Mikhail sat down beside his brother, Ryutin cleared his throat and continued.
“As I was saying, because of the continued rapid approach of the German Sixth Army, Command has ordered us to this location to initiate an evacuation of certain state treasures that must be kept out of Nazi hands at all costs. Stored in the basement vault of the monastery behind us is a virtual fortune in jewelry, icons, and other ancient art masterpieces.
Of even greater importance are the five hundred gold bars that have also been held in safekeeping here.
Originally minted during the reign of Czar Nicholas II, the gold has been kept here as an emergency reserve, to aid the Motherland in times of crisis.
“Because of your spotless service records, you have been entrusted with the vital job of loading this collection onto the train we have just disembarked. Once this task has been completed, you will be responsible for providing security during the trip back to Leningrad. To be chosen for such a mission is a great honor. The Rodina is putting it’s trust in you to properly carry out this as18 signment in these trying times. You mustn’t let your Motherland down! So if there are no questions, we’d better get started. Time is of the essence. The Germans continue their advance, and have been reported as close as the neighboring village of Verduga.”
As the senior lieutenant turned for the monastery, Mikhail saw his brother beckoning to him.
“So Command hasn’t forgotten about us after all,” Alexander said.
“This might not be as glamorous as duty aboard a submarine or battleship, but our assignment sounds just as vital to our countries future survival.”
“So it does” said Mikhail, as he gazed over the monastery grounds.
“I must admit that it was an ingenious idea to hide a treasure in such an unassuming spot.
Who would have ever expected it?”
“During the time of the Mongol invasions, monasteries such as this one were utilized for similar purposes,” Alexander replied.
“Supposedly the barbarians feared our chapels were filled with black magic, and whenever possible they kept their distance. Too bad the Germans can’t be so easily deceived.”
A bearded priest escorted the group through an icon-lined chapel. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and by the light of dozens of white candles they were led to the back of the central altar where a descending stairway led to the basement.
They were not prepared for the glittering treasure trove that awaited them in the cramped subterranean vault. Glistening in the candlelight were gilded chests filled with gem-studded jewelry. Stacked among the chests were exquisite icons, golden cups loaded with precious stones, and an assortment of expertly rendered paintings. Yet it was the rear of the vault that drew their eyes. Stacked on a thick wooden pallet were the gold bars stamped with the double eagle seal of the Romanoffs.
“An incredible sight,” Ryutin reflected as he joined his men in the vault.
“I had no idea of the treasure’s true extent. This could take days to properly catalogue and remove.”
“I think that we should get started with the gold,” said Mikhail.
“Then if t
ime allows, we can see about transferring the rest of the collection.”
The senior lieutenant attempted to pick up one of the gold bricks and grunted.
“That sounds good to me, Comrade. Moving this gold isn’t going to be such an easy task by itself. Each bar must weight well over 20 kilograms.”
“Just knowing the Nazis are out there will be enough to motivate us,” said Mikhail.
“Why don’t we form a human chain, and transfer the bars upstairs in that manner?” Alexander suggested.
“Good idea,” agreed the senior lieutenant.
“But while the actual transfer is in progress, I want both of you down here at all times with loaded weapons. If any of the men even touch any of the other objects you have my full blessings to stop them… permanently.”
It was late in the afternoon by the time all of the bars were removed from the vault to the courtyard. Here they were loaded onto a cart and trundled to the train.
They were in the midst of this process when the compound was buzzed by a dual-engine German surveillance plane. A tarp was hastily thrown over their glittering treasure, but it was not in place until the aircraft had made two complete passes.
“Get those bars loaded into the train with all haste, lads” Ryutin shouted.
“If the Nazi’s have spotted us, they’ll be upon us like vultures.”
The men were a good two-thirds done with their task when the sound of muffled gunfire could be heard in the distance, accompanied by several booming explosions.
A column of thick, black smoke could be seen rising to the west. As the gunfire intensified in volume that Ryutin decided it was time to make a run for it.
“Unload that last cartload and board the train, lads.
Comrade engineer, I want you to break all speed records from here to Leningrad.”
“But the rest of the treasure,” said one of the ensigns.
“We can’t leave it for the Germans!”
“The hell we can’t,” Ryutin said.
“By the sound of that gunfire, the Germans are just a few kilometers away. If we don’t get going now, we’ll lose the gold as well.”
A rumbling detonation caused another plume of black smoke to swirl up on the western horizon. Within minutes the last of the gold bars was loaded inside the boxcar located directly behind the locomotive. The squad was instructed to board the car behind, while the Kuznetsov twins were ordered to stay with the gold.
Mikhail and Alexander watched from the open doorway of the freight car as the priest refused Viktor Ryutin’s invitation to come to safety with them. As the locomotive built up steam and began chugging out of the clearing, the bearded man of God could be seen chanting and tossing Holy water in their direction as a blessing to insure the trip’s safe conclusion.
“I wonder what the Nazi’s will do to the occupants of that monastery when they overrun the place?” Alexander said.
Mikhail shook his head.
“Funny that he should be leaving us with a blessing, because those poor souls are going to need a miracle to remain alive. One look at the treasure we left behind and those Germans are going to become a bunch of crazed sharks in a feeding frenzy.
They’ll suspect that additional loot is buried nearby and will utilize every torture in the book to find out where it’s located.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have left them, Misha. At least we could have gone down fighting.”
“Those are noble sentiments, dear brother,” Mikhail replied.
“But you’re forgetting the purpose of this mission.
The gold bars are worth a fortune. Think of how much medicine, food, rifles and ammunition it will buy.
To sacrifice this treasure merely to show how brave we are would be an injustice to the rest of the citizens of the Motherland.”
Mikhail turned toward the doorway, his attention riveted on the countryside they were leaving behind. He could still see the golden, onion-shaped dome of the monastery. It was just visible beyond the thick branches of the forest. As the track snaked in the opposite direction, the last vestiges of the holy enclave disappeared altogether.
Mikhail could still see the setting sun as it dipped beneath the tree line. All too soon it would drop below the horizon, and the night would swallow the forest in a veil of blackness. Mikhail guessed it would be under the shroud of night that the Nazis would close in on the monastery and transform the sacred site into a pure hell.
He gritted his teeth in anger. The encounter with the attacking Stuka had unlocked a primal instinct from deep within his subconscious. He had never gotten joy from taking another life before. Yet this was war. The Nazis had willfully violated their border; now it was either kill or be killed.
What power he had felt as he sat on the roof of the caboose perched behind that machine gun! Like a god, with the power of life and death in his hands, he accepted the challenge of the Luftwaffe pilot, and without fearing the consequences, put his very life on the line to defend his homeland. With the adrenalin pumping through his body he felt invincible, even though the greater firepower and maneuverability lay with his adversary.
Yet the fates had sided with Mikhail, and as the diving aircraft exploded in the air before him, his enemy’s fiery death was almost anticlimactic. At that moment he remembered thinking how very thin was the line between the living and the dead. And it was then he realized that he had transcended the normal bounds of mortal fear.
The freight car shifted hard to one side as the track began winding its way around a broad bend. Reaching out to the edge of the doorway to steady himself,
Mikhail listened as the locomotive’s powerful whistle cried out in the gathering twilight like a howling demon.
It was only after the curve was behind them that he noted what seemed to be a decrease in the train’s forward speed. The loss of velocity was gradual at first, and Mikhail was wondering if it all wasn’t a trick of his imagination, when the ear-piercing squeal of the brakes told him otherwise. Thrown violently off balance by this unexpected loss of speed, he started to tumble forward.
Only the firm grasp of his brother kept him from being tossed out of the partially open doorway to the track below.
“What the hell was that all about?” cursed Mikhail.
Alexander leaned outside and surveyed that portion of the track that lay before them.
“Sweet father Lenin! It’s a tank, and it’s just sitting there, smack in the middle of the damn track!”
Quick to have a look himself, Mikhail peered out the doorway. Dusk had fallen, yet barely illuminated by the last glow of twilight, less than two dozen meters away, was a massive armored vehicle, its gun turret pointed right at them.
“It’s a German Panzer,” revealed Mikhail.
“And from the look of it, they’re not in any hurry to let us pass.”
“Perhaps if we put up a full head of steam we could ram it and push it out of the way,” Alexander said.
“I seriously doubt they’d just sit there without firing and let us get away with such a thing, dear brother. Our only alternative is to reverse our course while the track is still clear behind us, and find another route to safety.”
Mikhail was prepared to jump from the car and inform the engineer of this tactic, when Senior Lieutenant Ryutin climbed down onto the track from the boxcar behind them.
“Comrade Senior Lieutenant, perhaps we should try reversing our course!” cried Mikhail.
“We could transfer to an alternative route at the switching station at Luga.”
“That’s just what I had in mind, Kuznetsov,” answered the veteran.
“But no matter what happens, you’re to stay with that gold above all else. Now hang on, lads. I’m afraid the ride is going to be a bit rough.”
Mikhail watched as Ryutin ran down the track and disappeared inside the locomotive. Seconds later, the brakes released with a loud hiss. There was a sudden lurch as the engineer reversed gears, followed by a steady movement backward. Mikhail
watched as the tank that had been blocking the track grew smaller.
“I wonder why they didn’t shoot at us while they had the chance?” Alexander asked with a relieved sigh.
“Surely it would have only taken a single well-placed round to blow our locomotive to pieces.”
Mikhail had been contemplating the same thought as he leaned out the doorway in an attempt to view the conditions of the track in the direction that they were now moving. As they prepared to round the curve they had transit ted only minutes before, he spotted another Panzer blocking their escape route. And in that instant, he knew the answer to his brother’s question.
“It’s an ambush!” warned Mikhail.
“The bastards had us set up the whole damn time.”
The engineer also spotted the new obstacle, and as he slammed on the brakes, the train once more lurched to a sudden, squealing stop.
“Now what?” asked Alexander.
“You’d better make sure you have a fresh magazine in your rifle, brother. The way it looks to me, the only way we’re going to be able to get out of this train is to fight our way out.”
Alexander fumbled for his carbine.
“Perhaps we should make a run for it on foot while we still have a chance, Misha.”
Mikhail firmly shook his head.
“This is as good a place to die as any other. Besides, I think I’d rather be dead, than live the rest of my life as a coward.”
Alexander’s moment of indecision was cut short by the gruff voice of their senior lieutenant.
“Alexander Kuznetsov, I want you to take up a defensive position inside the caboose. Your brother’s to stay with the gold until I say otherwise.”
“This is it, Misha,” Alexander said.
“Do take care.”
There could be no doubting the fear and confusion that clouded his brother’s sea-green eyes, and Mikhail stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
“Have faith, dearest Alexander. We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes before. This will be no different. You’ll see.”
Alexander stood back and stared into his brother’s intense blue eyes. Finding himself unable to find the words to express his deep emotions, he could only shake his head and then turn for the open doorway. The last Mikhail saw of his twin was as he sprinted off to his new position at the rear of the train.
The Golden U-Boat Page 2