‘Are you sure, Monique?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I wish to be sure. And only you can do that for me. And Fergus...if I weep a little, forgive me.’
*
He wanted to sing and dance and shout, as he made his way through frozen streets to the pick-up point for the dispatch truck. It was early in the morning of Sunday, 17 December, and Monique was still in bed. Apart from a brief shopping expedition on Friday morning, they had spent most of the two days in bed. For one thing, it had been the only warm place in the apartment, and for another, they had had so much to do.
So much to do. Not just with fingers and lips and genitals. So much to do with thoughts, as well. They had not spoken a great deal, and Monique had, as she had warned, wept a little. But soon she had laughed, as well. He did not suppose she had laughed in two years. But this was Monique, restored to life, and love, and laughter. Monique Mackinder, as she would become, as soon as the last German had surrendered. A woman who had suffered the torment of the damned, and had yet been determined to survive. A woman to treasure.
He slapped his gloved hands together, and watched the truck come round the corner, sliding sideways towards him. It stopped a few feet away, and Sullivan threw open the door.
‘Not too fast, Sergeant,’ Fergus told him. ‘I want to stay in one piece.’
‘That may not be easy, sir.’ The sergeant was very excited. ‘All officers and men are to report to their units just as rapidly as possible. The Germans have launched a massive attack in the Ardennes, sir. They’re ripping the Yanks apart up there. All hell has broken loose.’
Fergus leapt in beside him. ‘So get me to the regiment, Sergeant. On the double.’
14
Yugoslavia, 1944
Tito’s offensive might have been premature, but nothing could stop the steady advance of the Russian armies. In April they had burst through the Ukraine and stood on the borders of Rumania, which had indeed led to their command to the partisans to distract the German forces further to the south, and in the summer, having re-taken the Crimea, they drove into Poland. Their August decision to stand before the Vistula and let the Home Army fight it out with the Germans did not disturb the Yugoslav partisans. ‘The Poles are all fascists,’ growled Colonel Vidmar. ‘Just like Mikhailovitch and his creatures.’ No one seemed to find it sinister that the Russians had not yet materialized in the Balkans either, as promised; their communiqués spoke of increased resistance in the Carpathians. Tito and his men were concerned only with Mikhailovich’s alleged treachery.
The growing antagonism between the two halves of the Yugoslav resistance was a disturbing aspect of the situation for Murdoch and MacLean. Tito had no proof that Mikhailovitch had betrayed him: he was merely certain that he had. More to the point, however, it was convenient for him to be certain of it. The shape of post-war Yugoslavia was occupying an ever larger place in his thoughts, and any means of denigrating his rival amongst the people at large —and the Allied Powers — was to be exploited. But as far as Murdoch was concerned, although he too had his doubts about the Chetnik leader, they were both his allies, and would continue to be until he was otherwise ordered.
The dropping of supplies to Mikhailovich’s people annoyed Tito, however, and after conferring with the new Russian mission which soon arrived, he came to see Murdoch.
‘I think I know you well enough now, Sir Murdoch,’ he said, ‘to be able to speak to you as man to man.’
‘Of course,’ Murdoch agreed, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach.
‘I know you are concerned that my country may well be fighting a civil war when the Germans have surrendered,’ Tito said. ‘And I share your concern. It is therefore necessary to make sure of the situation now. You must tell London and Washington the facts, and have them instruct the Chetniks to place themselves unreservedly under my command. Now.’
Obviously he was repeating what he had been told to say by the Russians. ‘And what are the facts, Tito?’ Murdoch asked.
‘That Mikhailovitch is trying to have my people destroyed by the Germans, so that he can take over the country.’
‘And is that not what you intend to do?’
Tito gazed at him, and then grinned. ‘When the time comes, we will hold democratic elections, Murdoch.’
‘I will inform London of that,’ Murdoch said. ‘But suppose Mikhailovitch also intends to hold elections?’
‘If he does, they will not be honest. London must choose, Murdoch. And it must be now.’
Murdoch considered. ‘And what if they choose Mikhailovitch? Will you accept such a decision?’
‘I am supported by Moscow,’ Tito reminded him. ‘They cannot choose Mikhailovitch.’
*
‘I suppose we don’t have any choice,’ Murdoch told MacLean. ‘All we can hope to do is prevent a massacre.’
The message went off, and the Russian advance went on. The ‘liberation’ of Rumania was finally achieved by mid-September, whereupon Bulgaria promptly changed sides and declared for Russia. That Yugoslavia would be next on the list was obvious, and now the long-awaited reply from London arrived.
‘Well,’ MacLean said when it had been decoded. ‘That is most definitely it.’
Murdoch took the sheet of paper and read:
Your instructions are to inform General Mikhailovitch that it is the joint decision of the governments of Great Britain and the United States that they can no longer support the Chetnik armies, either politically or logistically, unless they are immediately totally integrated with the forces of Marshal Tito. It is the decision of the Allied Governments that this united force will be under the command of Marshal Tito.
Should General Mikhailovitch concur in this decision, you are required to act as Allied liaison officer between the two groups to ensure that the unification of the Yugoslav Army proceeds in a satisfactory manner. Should General Mikhailovitch refuse to accept the determination of the Allies, with which the Soviet Union is associated, then it will be necessary to have his forces disarmed and placed under restraint as soon as is convenient and until such time as a properly constituted Yugoslav government can deal with the matter. Such disarmament should be accompanied by as little bloodshed as possible.
This communication is to be shown to Marshal Tito.
‘With as little bloodshed as possible,’ Murdoch commented. ‘There’s a tall order. Fitzroy, we have just been instructed to condemn a good many men to death.’
‘Pretty ghastly,’ MacLean said. ‘Well, we had better have a word with the Boss.’
Tito was in high good humour even before he was shown the Allied message. ‘The Germans are pulling out of Greece,’ he told them. ‘Into Yugoslavia. I have just been instructed to launch another offensive before their Army Group F can be re-established on our soil. And this time, my friends, we will be cooperating, not with the Chetniks, but with the Red Army itself. They are about to cross the border.’
‘Well, hallelujah,’ Murdoch said. ‘It looks like this got here just in time.’
MacLean gave Tito the paper. The Marshal read it and slapped his thigh. ‘I had no doubt of it. Are you going to put these facts to Mikhailovitch?’
‘We have been ordered to do so.’
‘It would be best simply to round them up, now. We must have the matter cleared up before we begin our attack. ‘
‘You mean, start a civil war even before you have defeated the Germans. That would be disastrous. And wasteful. There is every possibility that once he reads this telegram Mikhailovitch may decide there is nothing else he can do but place his men under you.’
‘I will believe that when I see it,’ Tito grunted.
‘Nonetheless, it is something we must hope will happen. I’ll leave right away.’
Now, wait a moment,’ MacLean protested.
‘It’s the obvious way to handle it,’ Murdoch told him. ‘I know Mikhailovitch. If anyone can talk him into doing the sensible thing, I can. And with respect, Fitzroy, I can pull more ra
nk than you.’
‘Urn,’ MacLean said unhappily. ‘You can’t cross the mountains alone.’
‘I’ll take Markham. I would also like to take with me, Marshal Tito, your personal guarantee of the safety of Mikhailovitch and his men when they come in to surrender.’
Tito nodded. ‘Every man who turns in his weapon will be granted safe conduct, providing he does so by the end of this month; I repeat, this matter must be cleared up before we start our offensive in October. Any man who is prepared to fight loyally with my people may even retain his weapon. This does not apply to Mikhailovitch and his principal officers, of course. They have too much to answer for.’
‘They must not be executed without a proper trial,’ Murdoch insisted.
Tito grinned. ‘They will have a proper trial, Murdoch. I give you my word.’
‘But not the word of his Russian masters,’ MacLean muttered when they returned to their encampment.
*
‘You do not wish Captain Markham,’ Yasmin decided. ‘You will take me instead.’
‘Why should I do that?’ Murdoch asked.
‘There are several reasons. There should be a Russian observer at your discussion with Mikhailovitch. I am a better cook than Markham. And you can sleep with me, and not him. I am your woman, am I not, my Murdoch?’
He had no doubt that her anxiety to remain at his side was at least partly because she was not regarded with total favour by the head of the new Russian mission, General Sukhomin — or by his staff. In the constantly suspicious world of the Communist hierarchy, presumably the fact that she alone had survived the destruction of her comrades was a matter for investigation. Sukhomin had held a long private interview with her, from which she had emerged looking distinctly shaken; she had told Murdoch that the General had wished to send her home, but she had protested on the grounds that she was a necessary liaison officer for the British — she begged him to endorse her claim.
Murdoch had supported her, for a multitude of reasons. He had grown to need her. A man had to have a woman, even a man who had seen better days. In fact, she had made him very happy in the months since nursing him back to health. In the turmoil of re-creating a partisan army after the disaster of the spring he had not been prepared to look ahead to the problems of peace, except in so far as they affected his job in hand. As Yasmin certainly appeared to be a dedicated Communist, he had always presumed when the shooting stopped she would go her own way. He hoped that; if necessary he was prepared to vouch for her loyalty and integrity to Stalin himself. Quite apart from the possible complications of her remaining around, he had actually grown to like Yasmin Bogoljubova the person rather than merely enjoy Yasmin Bogoljubova the woman. And it was difficult to believe that she still harboured thoughts of avenging her mother — she had proved such a perfect mistress. He supposed lie was one of the most fortunate men in the world.
And she would undoubtedly be useful for more than cooking or warming his sleeping bag; she was as competent a guerrilla .as any of Tito’s men. But he wasn’t at all sure of the reception he was going to get from Mikhailovitch. ‘I’ll take both of you,’ he said.
She pouted, but accepted his decision. They left the next morning, walking down the slope away from the partisan headquarters, and finding their way amidst the many encampments that had sprung up on the lower slopes and in the valleys. Despite his recent defeat, Tito did not lack for support and more men were coming in every day as news of the Russian victories was received, and carefully disseminated. Thus presumably he would win an election after the war by a large margin. However sad that might be for the youthful exiled king, Murdoch fervently hoped that would be so: only by possessing an unchallengeable mandate from the Yugoslav people could Tito ever deal fairly with his political opponents — and even that had ultimately to depend on the will of his Russian masters, because that they would be his masters, now, seemed certain.
‘You are pensive, my Murdoch,’ Yasrnin remarked that evening, after they had left the partisan army behind and had descended into the largely deserted valley by the lake; they camped at the side of the water, after having carefully inspected the banks through their glasses for any signs of German patrols.
‘I foresee a lot of trouble for this fair land,’ he said.
‘It has already had a lot of trouble.’
‘Quite. And it will have more, after the war, before it finds peace with security.’
‘There will be peace with security,’ she asserted. ‘We will see to that.’
‘We being the Red Army.’
‘It is the most powerful factor in Eastern Europe,’ she said seriously.
‘And suppose not all the people in the Balkans wish to live under the “security” of the Red Army?’
‘They will wish it. They have no alternatives.’
‘You mean that you commissars will make sure that they have no alternatives, is that not right?’
She gazed at him for several seconds. ‘Do you suppose that England and America will interfere?’
Murdoch sighed. ‘No, worse luck. I don’t think they will. They will be too pleased to have stopped fighting the Germans to wish to start fighting the Russians.’
‘Then we have nothing to quarrel over.’
He could not help but probe. ‘What will you do after the war is over?’
‘I would prefer not to consider that until the war is over.’
‘You are not afraid you will be in trouble?’
She gazed at him. ‘Why should I be in trouble, my Murdoch? For sleeping with you? I have enjoyed that.’
Almost he supposed she was using a past tense. But then she finished her coffee, and spread the sleeping bag. ‘We have a long day’s walk tomorrow. Come to bed.’ Markham had already turned in.
She was more than usually loving. He concluded that she was more nervous than she pretended.
*
Next day they continued on their way, and that afternoon were stopped by two Chetnik scouts. These took charge of them, camped with them that night, and early on the third morning they were brought before Mikhailovitch.
‘My people told me you were coming, General Mackinder,’ Mikhailovitch said. ‘Had you not come, I would have had to send to you. We put in for a drop a month ago, but it has not been made, and your people will not acknowledge our signals. What has happened?’
‘I think we should sit down and talk about it,’ Murdoch said.
Mikhailovitch glanced at Yasmin, then indicated the house where he kept his headquarters. His camp suggested much more of a military establishment than did Tito’s; instead of scattered groups living in caves there were orderly rows of huts and tents; but there were less of the Chetniks, and they were less ebullient, less confident, in their demeanour.
Murdoch, Yasmin and Markham were given goat stew to eat and whisky to drink, and then they sat around his conference table with his officers — while armed guards stood at the doors.
‘You do not suppose he will attempt treachery?’ Yasmin whispered.
‘It would be very foolish of him to do so,’ Murdoch said. ‘Just remember that you volunteered to come.’
‘What have you got to tell me?’ Mikhailovitch asked. ‘Not that Tito is planning another offensive, I hope.’
‘I have received a communication from the British Government which I have been instructed to place before you,’ Murdoch told him, and gave him a copy of the message.
Mikhailovitch read it. He did not change expression, but his ears glowed when he raised his head. ‘This is the darkest treachery.’
‘It was a decision which had to be made, one way or the other,’ Murdoch explained. ‘You may regret that the decision is against you, but it may well be possible for you to reverse it, at the polls, after the war.’
‘The polls,’ Mikhailovitch said disgustedly. ‘Do you really suppose there are going to be any polls, after the war? This country, the entire Balkans, will be ruled by Russia.’
‘There are polls, even i
n Russia, General,’ Yasmin told him.
‘Oh, indeed,’ Mikhailovitch said grimly. ‘And anyone who does not vote for the official Communist candidate is sent to a labour camp. Are your governments really going to permit this to happen throughout Eastern Europe, General Mackinder?’
‘I do not know what my Government is going to do, General,’ Murdoch said. ‘I have been given an order, and that order I have carried out. I must now ask for your answer.’
‘You expect my men to fight under Tito’s command? They will never do that.’
‘Then I must ask you to lay down your weapons and cease operations against the Germans. Marshal Tito will send instructions as to where you should conduct your men.’
‘My men will never surrender to Tito, either,’ Mikhailovitch said.
‘I would ask you to reconsider that decision, General,’ Murdoch said. ‘The Marshal has given safe conduct to every man who surrenders to him by the end of this month. After that, you will be considered as outlaws, and hunted down. That would be a very foolish thing for you to risk.’
‘My people would prefer to be outlaws than to live as slaves of the Communists.’
‘At least you must give them the choice, surely,’ Markham put in.
‘I am their commanding officer. I give the orders. I do not offer choices.’
‘Then I am very sorry, for you and your men,’ Murdoch said.
‘This guarantee of safety, does it apply to my officers and myself?’
‘Personal safety, yes. I’m afraid the Marshal has some reservations regarding your dealings with the Germans.’
‘Dealing with the Germans?’ Mikhailovitch shouted. ‘I do not deal with the Germans. That is a foul calumny.’
‘In particular,’ Murdoch continued patiently, ‘the Marshal is concerned about your failure to support him during the spring offensive, and he is determined that you shall explain your conduct before a court of law. However, he has given his word that it will be a fair trial.’
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