What really impressed him was the large number of Americans soldiers that were passing by. They were all traveling neatly one after another along the road that led from Heraklion to his village. He thought that the port in the capital city must be full of Americans. Possibly the capital’s port was too busy and they needed his town’s port as well. He could see them loading men, equipment and supplies into smaller boats for transfer to larger boats off shore. It was all very amusing to watch.
He guessed that all these American soldiers were going somewhere and they would once again get off their big ship. Then they would get back onto the smaller boats and land on some other foreign shore. It was probably some place he had never heard of. He was certain there were many places he did not know.
The columns of trucks and vehicles were more interesting than watching the large numbers of American airplanes take off and land in the various airports that were within sight of his meadow. There seem to be less and less of these planes every day. Compared to a few months ago he guessed there was about half as many. Either the Americans had moved to other places or they were somehow losing their planes.
Mihalis was a smart man but he lacked any education or knowledge of what exactly the American planes and ships were doing here in Crete. He had heard rumors of another war in Europe. From what he knew Europe was very far away. Of course, to him the capital Heraklion was very far away as well. He had no frame of reference from which to compare distances.
He had never been in a moving vehicle other than a horse drawn cart. Mihalis knew that it was a two-day trip just to get to Heraklion from his mountaintop. However, he had never visited the city and had no reason to. The city contained nothing he needed or wanted. He wondered where all these Americans were going, and what they needed, and wanted.
He had seen a number of the American planes crash. He had no idea what kept the planes up in the air in the first place as their wings did not flap like birds. They created very loud explosions as they hit the ground and upset the herd. The first time a plane came down he was frightened as well. He had heard stories of guns and war. He had never seen a gun until the Americans started using the port at the foot of his mountain.
They had setup, what he was told, was a shooting range. One of the villagers had advised him never to go near it. Mihalis was informed that occasionally the Americans missed what they were shooting at. He understood that the bullets could travel very far and it was possible that they could kill one of his sheep or goats. Mihalis could not afford to lose any of his animals so he had avoided getting anywhere near the Americans and their guns. Luckily, they did not shoot any of their big cannons.
***
A second shepherd 1300 miles away watches the Soviet Army begin to deploy
***
Saba was a shepherd in Kusapat, Georgia at the foot of the Lesser Caucasus Mountains. Most days he spent his time spying on his wife and watching his goats. He spent an equal amount of time doing both.
His wife was exceptionally beautiful. If he had known that she was going to grow up to become so attractive he would have married the older sister. His wife was very ugly when they were married. She was eleven years old when they married with missing teeth, and was very skinny with bad skin. Saba found it difficult to consummate their marriage on their wedding night because she was so homely. He should have known better, for her eyes were stunning. It was the only part of her that was attractive at 11.
Within three years she had grown beautiful around those eyes. It was driving him crazy with jealousy and the constant need to defend his honor. As the proverb says, “A pretty face is the key to locked doors.” He had to break down some locked doors in the last few years.
He was hoping that another proverb would soon come to fruition “A handsome shape sags out quickly.” So far after two children and at age 20 she was still desired by every man that set his eyes on her.
His goats on the other hand were easy to care for. He had a good dog and his pastures were covered with sweet grass year after year, until this year. His problem this year came from the Ruskies who had come from the north and taken over a number of his best meadows.
This group of Muscovites seemed to be well led and for the most part under control. So far no one had tried to steal his goats or his wife. The Non-commission officers seemed to be very professional. He shuddered to think of what might happen if they lost that control. Everyone had heard the stories from the north of what second line troops had done to the German women.
Instead of worrying, he wondered if maybe he should use his wife’s beauty for his own gain. She was going to get raped anyway. Why not make it as pleasant as possible for her and profitable for him. The Ruskie officers were very rich. Some even had watches.
He could exhibit her in the market the next day. He would not have to spend money on new clothes. Her charms were so obvious to any man who liked women. He would watch and see which fine, and of course, wealthy officers watched her
There would be no shame in her being used by a Russian if he profited from it. The other men in the village would see the wisdom of bowing to fate and making a profit at the same time. It would also be kinder to have her “loved” by a nice, rich man rather than raped by a smelly, violent Cossack who probably had some horrible disease.
He could send their children off to his sister’s home. His wife could then be free to live with the officer and steal things for the family. As long as he kept the children she would always come back and he would be wealthy from all the things she would appropriate or accept as gifts. Most men are fools when it comes to a pretty face and body. The officer would defend her from others as well. This seemed to be a much better situation than him having to do it himself and risked getting killed. It was a good solution for all concerned.
Now, how was he going to protect his goats from the Cossacks? They were sure to appear soon once the Russians left. He had heard that they always followed the Muscovites.
The Ruskies were burying metal things all over some of his meadows. He was told that if he touched them they would explode. He would not touch them. He was no fool. You didn’t have a flock of 300 goats by being a fool.
Over on the next mountain the Ruskies had hauled up a huge cannon and were in the process of putting it in a cave he had used many a time during early winter storms. He hoped they would step in his shit and piss in the back.
Between the mines and entrenchments, he had lost the use of more than half his fields. He only hoped that his wife could make up for the losses by acquiring some good treasures from a soldier.
He had noticed that there were only a few of those metal monsters they called tanks. He supposed they would have a hard time getting them up the mountains and so would any enemy.
He wondered not for the first time, “who was the enemy in this war?” The Nazis had been defeated, had they not? Everyone in town said it was the Amerikosi but he didn’t believe it. They were our allies against the Germans, why would they now be our enemy.
He guessed he would find out soon enough.
Figure 18-Children and a Cretan soldier watch the NATO invasion preparations.
Chapter Five: Changes
Figure 19 – Russian terrorist Ignaty Grinevitsky First Suicide bomber kills himself and Czar Alexander II
Bear Hug
Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev was visited in the night by the ghost of Lavrenti Beria. Brezhnev suspected that Beria was still alive when his son Yuri disappeared from school. He was contacted within hours by one of Beria’s former henchman. The subject matter was the kidnapping of Brezhnev’s 13-year old son.
At the end of World War Two, Brezhnev is a Major General and winner of the Order of Lenin. He was previously second in command to Nikita Khrushchev as the Ukrainian Front’s Political Commissar. He was beyond reproach as Khrushchev’s understudy. As a decorated hero and high-ranking member of the military he had full access to most facilities and attended many of the political meetings in the Kremlin.
&
nbsp; Vyacheslav Mikhailovich Molotov was the Soviet Minister of Foreign Affairs. Since the war started he had not been traveling internationally. He was assigned by Stalin to oversee the newly formed communist governments in Germany, France, Greece, Italy, Sweden, Norway, Finland, the Netherlands, Denmark and other former western countries now under the control of the Red Army.
Molotov was spending a lot of time in Moscow and required that the new heads of state travel to meet him. The meeting today involved the newly installed head of the Greek communist government. Nikos Beloyannis had risen to power in the usual manner of dictators. He was given the title General Secretary of the Greek communist party and was ensconced in office shortly after the Soviet invasion.
The meeting between Molotov and Beloyannis was to symbolize his taking the reins of power in cementing relations with the USSR. It was to be mainly a ceremonial meeting and Leonid Brezhnev had attended many such gatherings. Usually his wife Viktoria attended as well. The finest foods and spirits were served in great quantities and Viktoria was loath to miss such fare.
It was rumored that their son was sick as he had not been seen in weeks. When questioned, Brezhnev reinforced this belief. A number of his comrades wished for a sound and speedy recovery. His son’s illness also explained his wife’s absence.
Brezhnev was in his prime. He was 6 foot two and in great physical shape due to his military service. The imposing Major General appeared to be nervous however, and was sweating profusely. He was wearing a rather bulky and unflattering suit jacket. Several people suggested that he should take his jacket off since he appeared to be so uncomfortable wearing it. He declined and slowly made his way towards Molotov and his guest. At exactly 2115 he was standing next to Molotov and suddenly gave the leader a bear hug and shouted for all the others to exit the room immediately.
Molotov struggled to escape but was no match for Brezhnev’s strength. As Leonid became more and more adamant that people should leave the room, most of the crowd complied.
Just as the security guard was about to seize Brezhnev from behind, Leonid shouted at the top of his lungs, “FORGIVE ME!” A deafening explosion rocked the room. As the smoke cleared, there was a smoldering crater where Brezhnev, Molotov and the security guard had been last seen.
Killing an enemy by throwing or placing a bomb near them was almost as old as gunpowder itself. Deliberately killing yourself in the process was not. The act of strapping an explosive vest to your body and purposely getting close to your intended victim was a novel method of assassination in 1947.
At the same time that Brezhnev was obliterating himself and Molotov another was doing the same to Georgy Malenkov near building outside of Lenin’s Tomb in Red Square.
This assassin’s name was Alexey Alexandrovich Kuznetsov. His motives for killing himself remain mysterious. Rumors that he had a daughter named Alla that Beria was holding hostage, yet no record of her was ever found. Perhaps she was illegitimate or the records of her birth were lost in the war.[cxlviii]
The results of both explosions were essentially the same. In this second bombing, pieces of Malenkov and Kuznetsov, along with 12 others were buried together as the building collapsed.
A third assassin targeting Khrushchev never made it close enough to strike. He was late and by that time word had spread of the nearby attack.
Everyone around Nikita was required to take off their outer garments and any article of clothing that could hide an explosive vest. The would-be killer’s name is lost to history as he quietly agreed to leave the area and then blew himself up without harm to others.
He was believed to be Khrushchev’s (for lack of a better term) pimp. It was alleged that he provided Nikita with a steady stream of willing female partners for over a decade. He was not missed as others stepped in to fulfill this function.
At first most believed that Stalin was behind the attacks, but then reason prevailed. If Stalin wanted you dead, you were arrested and killed. He had no need for suicide vests and bear hugs. You were just killed. Then Beria’s name was whispered.
Someone who knew both Brezhnev and Kuznetsov commented that both had children who had not been seen for weeks. This observation was verified and set off a nationwide round-up of all the high-ranking parents with small children. All these parents were required to produce their offspring and those that could not were sent to a holding facility. Under questioning several admitted that their children had been taken and they were being blackmailed into committing crimes against the state.
Several were implicated in Beria’s newly discovered resurrection. All the admitted and suspected parents and their families were sent to various gulags throughout the USSR. For over a year the bear hug-like greeting, so prevalent in the Soviet Union since time immemorial, was banned.
Figure 20-Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev
To the Last
Ivan Vetrov was the last Soviet soldier of Konev’s Mideast Front to surrender. He lasted for two weeks without water by drinking his own piss. None of the Americans wanted to die assaulting his well dug in position. A few tried to throw grenades into his hole at first but after about ten attempts they decided to just wait him out.
Meanwhile they bombarded him with constant dissonant music and propaganda broadcasts. The American intelligence officer found one of Vetrov’s old comrades. The fellow was sent to talk him into surrendering. Ivan shot the man in the leg.
The 1321st Engineer General Service Regiment transferred from duties in Trieste and landed in Beirut on 30 May 1947. They were assigned to watch Ivan until he surrendered. The unit was primarily Negro with the exception of its commander Lt. Colonel Arthur Ramsey who replaced Colonel Aldo H. Bagnulo. The remaining white officers the recently promoted Sergeant Richard Post stayed with the unit.
Richard had been partially responsible for the 1321 being assigned to the assault on the Levant. He had put the bug in his Lieutenant’s ear who passed it up the chain. Richard had gotten a reputation for getting things done that should not be possible.
The Regiment took turns, 12 at a time, surrounding Ivan’s lair. The duty was very tedious, but someone had to do it. When not watching Ivan the troops, performed their usual engineering duties of constructing roads, bridges and airfields.
In truth Richard was here to find his brother Phil. Word had reached him of Phil’s desertion and he was going to find Mrs. Post’s youngest son and bring him home. First, he had to wait for Ivan to die or become incapacitated.
Richard knew that Phil was still alive and somewhere near the Turkish border with Syria. The Turks fighting alongside the Americans would talk to the Negros in his unit and tell them things that they would not tell their white comrades. Phil was rumored to have joined a group of mercenaries killing Russians who were guarding or transporting Syria’s and Turkey’s treasures to Moscow. Gold coins, statues and even diamonds fueled the stories of riches being righteously taken from the godless commies.
Richard had reason to believe the stories for they contained details that corresponded with Phil’s newly found skills at ambush and creatively using explosives. Phil and his traps had become the stuff of legend. The Army maintained that he was dead but Richard knew better.
However, his first priority was Ivan. With Ivan captured his unit would likely move further north and closer toPhil’s location. On his own initiative, he had interviewed Ivan’s former friend, the one who Ivan shot when he tried to talk to him about surrendering.
After a long conversation, Evgeny mentioned that Ivan was addicted to a special version of Borsch, the Soviet beet soup. His particular style of the beet concoction originated in his hometown Pskov. Pskov was located on a huge lake 100 miles south of the Gulf of Finland and 150 miles SSW of Leningrad.
The Borsch soup that Ivan grew up eating used dried fish instead of pork or beef. A smelt is just thrown in the boiling liquid giving the soup its unique flavor. The taste for this stew needed to be…developed. Ivan had acquired his craving over a 20-year period.
Rich
ard went back to his company cook dragging Ivan’s former friend with him. The three of them experimented and over the course of 2 days came up with a reasonable facsimile of Ivan’s boyhood soup.
The Levant version of Pskov Borsch was reheated downwind from Ivan’s lair. After a few hours Ivan crawled out of his nest and surrendered.
The power of youthful memories triggered by the sense of smell proved to be an irresistible combination. Ivan was finally driven to sanity by memories of childhood.
The Transplant
For the last couple of weeks, the Soviet Union had been proceeding along on automatic pilot. Two of its Ruling Circle had been assassinated. Stalin had not been seen in public for over 21 days. The remaining members of the Politburo were in seclusion due to the assassinations.
To some, a miracle then occurred. To others, it was a curse.
In 1933 Soviet surgeon Yuri Voronoy transplanted the first kidney from one human to another. [cxlix] The patient died 2 days later. At the time the reasons for the failure were unknown. Later it became apparent that the donor and the recipient had different blood types and the kidney had been naturally rejected.
By WWII blood transfusions had become fairly common. The different blood types were known as well as the consequences of crossing them. Incremental progress had been made over the intervening years in human-to-human transplants but no major breakthroughs.
Stalin’s kidneys were failing. He had only weeks to live when a long-lost half-brother was located.
Stalin’s father was a violent drunk who smashed the windows of the local tavern and assaulted the town’s police chief when the future dictator was ten years old. His father was told to leave town and went to the city of Tiflis. He cut all ties with his wife and family. Besarion Jughashvili had a number of affairs in the following years.[cl] As far as Stalin knew until 1939, his father did not sire more children. He was wrong.
World War Three 1946 Series Boxed Set: Stalin Strikes First Page 118