The powerful blast of a train whistle brought Oleg back from his revelry of the past. The train’s arrival brought with it an unexpected terror. At his back, Oleg felt a surge of bodies press against him to the point he needed to lean heavily on his cane to prevent himself from toppling off the station platform onto the tracks below. Everyone wanted to have the first glimpse of Comrade Lenin’s funeral train, but that distinct honor was Oleg’s and his alone.
The locomotive remained obscured from view until the traveling plume of smoke rising over apartment rooftops at long last revealed its source. A reverent hush fell over the crowd of more than a hundred thousand and remained in place as the coal black engine pulled a solitary ebony car draped in sorrowful black banners into the station.
Once there, an honor guard led by General Secretary Joseph Stalin himself unloaded the bright red coffin. They proceeded to carry the casket five miles through the streets of Moscow for the rest of the citizenry to pay their respects to the father of their revolution.
Oleg’s private viewing of Lenin’s final arrival into the capital city lasted only the briefest of moments, but it was his moment. For the gift of casting aside the yoke of oppression and hardship the Tsar and his privileged elite forced upon his family, Comrade Lenin deserved to have heaven and earth moved in his honor. Oleg knew his miniscule tribute was wholly inadequate, but it was all he had. As he watched the still muted crowd melt away to seek shelter from the cold, gentle waves of fear began eating away at the foundation of his state of satisfaction. What would become of Lenin’s movement now that his visionary guidance was gone? Who would carry on the ideals of their perfect communal society?
Three days later, Oleg found himself once again braving the bitter cold that the heart of Russia’s winter brought with it. He stood outside the House of Trade Unions to hear the next generation of leaders speak. They would honor Lenin and the memory of his life of course, but of more importance, they would provide a glimpse into what was to come. Who would, or could, usher the Union of Soviet Socialist Republic forward without its founding father for guidance.
Oleg expected that man to be Leon Trotsky. He was loyal to the ideals of communism, and had full command and support from the People’s Red Army. Oleg, and nearly everyone he spoke to on the subject of succession, presumed Trotsky to be Lenin’s heir apparent, yet the man was not even present to lay the great man to rest.
Instead, Joseph Stalin presided as chief mourner and stood privileged to deliver the keynote eulogy of Lenin to the audience of millions gathered in the square or listening on the state sponsored media coverage.
Oleg served under Trotsky’s command for many years during the civil war. Time after time, he bore witness to the man’s bravery and intellect. He was inclined to follow Trotsky’s leadership if Lenin’s legacy fell under his charge.
This Joseph Stalin though? He stood in high enough regard in the party to lead as General Secretary once Lenin fell ill, but somehow Oleg did not trust the man. His words always spoke to the good of the People, yet everything about him seemed poised to strengthen himself. As Stalin stepped up to the microphones set up on the elevated stage, everything about him gave an image of strength to the onlooker. His square face bore sharp lines. His bushy, yet well-groomed mustache sat thick and full below a large yet oddly distinguished nose. Even the man’s hairline portrayed a sense of authority with it swept back from his angular forehead to present a dense wall of dark hair. Oleg felt drawn to that strength even before the man spoke a single word.
“Comrades,” Stalin began with a conversational tone. “We Communists are people of a special mold, made of special stuff. We are those who form the army of the great proletarian strategist, the army of Comrade Lenin. There is nothing higher than the title of member of the Party whose founder and leader we honor this day. Membership in this Party of ours is an honor not meant for just anyone. It is for the sons of the working class, the sons of want and struggle, the sons of incredible privation and heroic effort. That is why the Party of the Leninists, the Party of the Communists, is also called the Party of the working class.”
Oleg let loose a mighty yawn as these were the same platitudes recited by all the other speakers before this man. Oleg was about to tune him out until Stalin did something unexpected. He turned his back on the crowd that everyone else had focused upon in a transparent effort to win them over for their own gains. Instead, Stalin shouted his words with raised fists toward the Hall of Trade Unions as if they alone might bring Comrade Lenin back from the dead.
“DEPARTING FROM US, COMRADE LENIN YOU ENJOINED US TO HOLD HIGH AND GUARD THE PURITY OF THE GREAT TITLE OF MEMBER OF THE PARTY. WE VOW TO YOU, COMRADE LENIN, WE SHALL FULFILL YOUR BEHEST WITH HONOR!”
Turning back to the crowd, Stalin continued. “For twenty-five years Comrade Lenin tended our Party and made it into the strongest and most highly steeled worker’s party in the world. The blows of tsarism and its henchmen, the fury of the bourgeoisie and the landlords, the armed attacks of Kolchak and Denikin, the armed intervention of Britain and France, the lies and slanders of the hundred-mouthed bourgeois press - all these scorpions constantly chastised our Party for a quarter of a century. But our Party stood firm as a rock, leading the working class forward to victory. In fierce battles, our Party forged the unity and solidarity of its ranks.”
Again Stalin turned toward Lenin’s body lying in state and bellowed, “DEPARTING FROM US, COMRADE LENIN YOU ENJOINED US TO GUARD THE UNITY OF OUR PARTY, WE VOW TO YOU, COMRADE LENIN, THAT THIS BEHEST, TOO, WE SHALL FULFILL WITH HONOR!”
Once more Stalin turned from delivering his pledge to the fallen leader to recite a stanza to the crowd praising them for breaking free from the slavery of serfdom and exploitation. He implored them to maintain the alliance between workers and peasants, for alone they could not have defeated the landlords or capitalists.
Next, Stalin expounded upon the virtues of accepting diversity among the nations as Lenin so vehemently preached. Russians and Ukrainians, Bashkirs and Byelorussians, Georgians and Azerbaijanians, Armenians and Daghestanians, Tatars and Kirghiz, Uzbeks and Turkmenians were all equals under the communist ideals.
Again Comrade Stalin pledge to the body of Lenin, along with thousands from the crowd. “DEPARTING FROM US, COMRADE LENIN YOU ENJOINED US TO STRENGTHEN AND EXTEND THE UNION OF REPUBLICS. WE VOW TO YOU, COMRADE LENIN, THAT THIS BEHEST, TOO, WE SHALL FULFILL WITH HONOR!”
Stalin stopped speaking for a moment and allowed the fervor of the crowd to die down for his final words to hit every listener with clarity. “More than once did Lenin impress upon us that the respite we won from the capitalist states might prove a short one. More than once did Lenin point out to us that the strengthening of the Red Army and the improvement of its condition is one of the most important tasks of our Party. The events connected with the Great War once more confirmed that, as always, Lenin was right. Let us vow then, comrades, that we shall spare no effort to strengthen our Red Army.”
Once more, all those in the million strong crowd declared to their fallen leader along with Joseph Stalin, “DEPARTING FROM US, COMRADE LENIN, YOU ENJOINED US TO STRENGTHEN THE RED ARMY. WE VOW TO YOU, COMRADE LENIN, THAT THIS BEHEST, TOO, WE SHALL FULFILL WITH HONOR!”
With those inspired words, any doubts Oleg still harbored concerning Stalin’s dedication to Lenin’s true legacy of leading the worker’s fight against the privileged classes was washed away. He vowed at that moment to follow Stalin’s leadership of the USSR until the end of his days.
Chapter 8: Man Behind the Iron Curtain
“that was a fine speech that you delivered yesterday,” Valnor commended while gazing out the General Secretary’s window into the snow swept streets of Moscow. Workers outside the House of Trade Unions labored below to clean up after the funeral of Vladimir Lenin.
Millions of people braved the thirty degree below zero conditions for hours in order to make their pilgrimage. In endless lines, the people marched past the bier holding Len
in’s embalmed body and for four days and four nights they never stopped marching. It was something unsurpassed and awe-inspiring for him to personally witness.
Valnor observed the light from the last trashcan fire, used by the crowds to stay warm, go out. In that moment he concluded that it was time for him to move on as well. He narrowed the focus of his eyesight to the point he no longer saw the scene beyond the windowpane, but rather the reflection of Joseph Stalin sitting at his desk reviewing a stack of papers. The man professed to be of the people and dedicated to their collective prosperity, but Valnor knew better. This was a hard man. Everything about his physical appearance conveyed a need for power, but for Valnor, the eyes were what truly gave him away.
Those dark orbs conveyed an emotionless soul dominated by fierce intellect and a ruthless, selfish nature. Those dark windows into his inner thoughts left no doubt in Valnor’s mind that Joseph Stalin was capable of almost anything; good or evil. All Stalin needed to bring his true nature to the surface was for someone to show him the way, and much to his chagrin, that someone was Valnor.
Though his face was still several inches away from the glass, an intense chill penetrated the barrier to the point Valnor could barely feel his nose. He turned back toward the room to look upon the General Secretary and finish his complimentary statement. “In fact, I don’t think the events over the last few weeks could have gone any better for you.”
Stalin let escape a guttural grunt of frustration before looking up from his papers to meet Valnor’s eyes. “If only the People knew what a traitor Lenin turned out to be toward the true ideals of our revolution. Tens of millions worship his memory without realizing their idol was actually a closet capitalist.”
“And you,” Stalin declared with an accusing finger pointing at Valnor. “You had me stand before the entire nation and foster this false hero worship. Do you have any idea how many times I had to pause and choke back a river of bile threatening to spew forth during that speech?”
“I certainly hope your gag reflex is warmed up, because today you’ll lead the ceremony to rename Petrograd as the city of Leningrad,” Valnor declared with a touch of amusement behind his words.
“Ridiculous,” Stalin spat. “We defeat the Tsar along with all his rich industrialists and land owners. The People finally take back what was rightfully theirs, and what was the first thing Comrade Lenin tried to do when we hammered the guns of our civil war back into plows and sickles? He tried to reestablish private enterprise!”
“To be fair, his proposed new system of ‘State Capitalism’ kept banking, foreign trade, and large industry under state control,” Valnor offered.
“Bah,” Stalin fired back, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand across the air between him and Valnor. “Any private enterprise promotes private profits, which quickly leads to a class system once more. He betrayed our communist ideals, and for this betrayal we rename a city to honor his memory?”
“No,” Valnor said softly with an equally gentle shake of his head. “I orchestrated an assassination attempt and ultimately succeeded in poisoning Lenin for betraying the revolution. Now you name a city after the man so that the people will believe you are his devoted disciple. You will promote the cult of Lenin and put his face on everything communist. His mausoleum will stand as a Mecca for Communism and the people will love you for it. They will accept you with open arms as Lenin’s pupil and successor of his great vision. They will regard you as Lenin reincarnate.”
“From this day forward, to question Stalin is to doubt Lenin’s wisdom and thereby question the legitimacy of the revolution. You will make that an act of heresy not tolerated by any true Soviet. Through Lenin’s worship you will gain the initiative and the entire nation will follow your leadership without question.”
Stalin still looked frustrated enough to overturn his desk and hurl it out the window. To put any such notion to rest, Valnor added a little sweetener to make his plan more palatable. “If it makes you feel any better, you and I both know Lenin himself would not approve of his hero worship. Before the third and final stroke took his ability to speak, I heard Lenin say numerous times to others ‘Wherever you look, they are writing about me’.”
“He considered this emphasis on the individual to be un-Marxist and ultimately harmful to the cause. In essence, you are desecrating his legacy by making him a hero to the people. It serves you and insults him at the same time, what could be better?” Valnor concluded with a glowing smile.
“All of this is too fast, too aggressive, too transparent,” Stalin countered. “Owning the loyalty of every peasant will do me no good when Trotsky returns to Moscow with the whole of the Red Army backing him and his allies within the party. They will put a loaded pistol in my mouth and either pull the trigger or make me their puppet. Either way my influence will be at an end.”
“There is a reason I timed Lenin’s death to coincide with Leon Trotsky’s illness,” Valnor instructed. “His absence from the memorial proceedings did not go unnoticed by anyone, by the people or the party leaders.”
“Every single party leader, to a man, knows full well Leon would have been here; sick with malaria or not. Everyone knows it was my telegram giving him the wrong date of the funeral that kept Trotsky away,” Stalin protested. “All of this was too soon, too aggressive. You should never have killed Lenin; the party will never follow me now.”
It was Valnor’s turn to sport the frustrated face of a man wanting to destroy something. “It had to be now. As it is, Lenin’s liberal economic policies may have already done too much damage for us to recover from in time. Your reforms, your calls for central economic planning and the massive industrialization of our great nation fell on deaf ears while Lenin lived. It had to happen for us to stand on our own against the western powers. It had to happen for us to keep their monarchies, their greedy capitalists, and their robber baron industrialists out of our country for good. Otherwise the revolution would have been for nothing as we traded one set of oppressors for another rather than controlling our own destiny.”
“What of Trotsky and his supporters? He commands the Red Army, he holds all the cards,” Stalin said with a hint of deference entering his tone. He wanted to believe Valnor.
“Purge him,” Valnor answered without hesitation. “Purge them all while you still own the hearts and minds of the People amid the afterglow of your stirring tribute to Lenin.”
“Purge? You mean have them all killed? You want me to order the murder of our fellow patriots of the revolution?” Stalin asked seeking clarity. The man tried his best to sound appalled at the notion, but his ability to deliver a convincing speech to the masses was far more advanced than his theatrical skills. If anything, Valnor was quite certain he saw the desk Stalin sat under rise up six inches upon hearing the suggestion. Valnor knew all the man needed was a gentle nudge in the right direction to bring out his inner monster.
“The generals are the ones loyal to Trotsky. The men and their Commissars, like me, stand loyal to the cause; the cause you lead,” Valnor instructed. “The generals will not be missed. Nor will the schemers who vie for political position behind closed doors. The people follow vision and strength. Be strong for us now, Comrade Stalin. A nation waits to follow you.”
A loaded silence filled the Secretary General’s office while Joseph Stalin considered his options. He leaned back in his chair and looked toward the ceiling as if the answer was floating above him. In slow motion, his head rotated toward Valnor and the change was obvious. The once timid man had hardened his resolve into solid iron. Stalin now eyed Valnor like a lion spying a lone antelope among the tall grass of the Serengeti; deciding if the kill was worth the effort. It was only after Stalin shifted his gaze back to the papers on his desk that Valnor felt comfortable that he was not on the menu.
Without looking up Stalin commanded in a quiet yet powerful voice, “Purge them all.”
**********
“Humor my ignorance of Russian history, but how many
people did Stalin have killed at Valnor’s prodding to solidify his power?” Dr. Holmes asked. “Are we talking five or ten or was it several hundred?”
Jeffrey expected a serious answer to his morbid question, but what he got was Hastelloy’s eyes growing wide in surprise along with a chuckle of disbelief. Apparently the naivety of the question momentarily won out over its severe nature.
“The number is a bit north of that I’m afraid,” Hastelloy said after regaining his composure. “The Great Purge, as it came to be known, was all encompassing and staggering in scope. In the Red Army alone, three of five Field Marshals were eliminated along with ninety percent of the generals, three quarters of the Colonels and every single regional commander; all of them. In the end, some thirty thousand military officers were eliminated.”
It was Dr. Holmes’ turn to let loose an inappropriate laugh. The enormity of the answer was ridiculous, but one glance at his brother’s stoic face put an end to the laughter. An affirmative nod from Mark let him know the figures were no exaggeration, leading Hastelloy to continue with the staggering body count of the purge.
“The Great Purge wasn’t confined to the military alone. The entire Politburo and most of the Central Committee went away. Along with them, foreign communists living in the Soviet Union, numerous intellectuals, bureaucrats, and factory managers vanished. No one was safe from Stalin’s iron fist.”
“The total count of people imprisoned or executed during The Great Purge numbers upward of two million,” Hastelloy went on. “The mass terror was little known to the outside world, and many western intellectuals believed that the Soviets had created a successful alternative to a capitalist world, a world which was suffering mightily from the effects of the Great Depression during this time.”
Origins: The Reich Page 6