Beyond the Call (25 page)

T
HAT NIGHT
, C
APTAIN
Trimble, in consultation with Sergeant Matles and Lieutenant Jessee, sat down to write a report of the salvage mission. So much had happened, it was difficult to recall it all, and hard to judge what to leave out. The Cossacks in the night, the furious Russian colonel glaring over the barrel of the Colt, the take-off from the tiny sloping field, the blizzard whiting out the windshield … and the ragged, pitiful prisoners, desperate for help.

There would be flak to take over the decision to bring the four POWs to Poltava.
⁹
Their aircrew disguise, which had been sufficient to get them out of Lwów, wouldn't fool the Soviets at Poltava. They were bound to learn of it, and they would be furious.

They did indeed find out, and it was said by one observer that ‘their consternation knew no bounds'.
¹⁰
What upset the Russians most was the presence of British POWs among the exfiltrated men. The Soviets were even more suspicious of the British than they were of the Americans. There was a long history, going back more than a century, of competitive espionage between the British and Russian Empires in the battle to control Asia. More recently, in the early days of the Russian Revolution the British had hatched a plot to assassinate Lenin and overthrow the Bolsheviks.
¹¹
The British were also much more secretive, less willing to share intelligence than the Americans were.
¹²
Consequently, British personnel were regarded by the Soviets as enemy agents until proven otherwise.
¹³
The arrival of Ronald Gould and Jim McNeish enraged them. As a result, the diplomatic position of Eastern Command shifted one step closer to a crisis.

Officially, the American authorities sternly disapproved of Captain Trimble's actions, but privately they thought he had done the right thing.

On the morning after their arrival at Poltava, before the Soviets had a chance to react to what had happened, Sergeants Beadle and Vergolina were put aboard a transport flying out to Tehran. Meanwhile, Gould and McNeish were dispatched to the British Embassy in Moscow for clearance. The parting between Rudy Vergolina and Jim McNeish was a sad one; they had endured so much hardship together, and helped each other through. At last they were within reach of the one thing they all yearned for – home.

The next day, a cable was received by Eastern Command from General Booth, commanding officer of Persian Gulf Command. It stated:

Ex-prisoners of war arrived Teheran 1730 hours,
18 March 45 plan to depart 1330 hours,
19 March 45. T/4 Rudolph Vergolina, 36210949
and T/4 Richard J. Beadle, 34077320. Both are
liberated.
14


Just a few days after leaving snowbound Lwów, Richard Beadle and Rudy Vergolina were in Cairo, experiencing in reverse the journey that Robert Trimble had made more than a month earlier.

While they were blinking in the bright Egyptian sunlight and thinking thoughts of home, Captain Robert M. Trimble was heading back out to the snows of Poland. So long as there were prisoners wandering helpless, his business was not finished. He was about to face his toughest emotional trial yet, as well as his greatest triumph.

Chapter 14

FAR FROM HOME

23 MARCH 1945: RED ARMY HOSPITAL, LUBLIN, POLAND

T
HE BUILDING WAS
warm, the wards were clean, and the seven American ex-prisoners of war were comfortable in bed.
¹
The Russian medical staff gave the Americans every care they could, treating them not merely as patients but as honored guests. It was an extraordinary about-face in Soviet treatment of ex-POWs. Colonel Wilmeth was astonished by it.

Wilmeth and his medical colleague Colonel Kingsbury had been puzzled when the Soviet administrator cordially invited them to visit the hospital. And they were positively astounded to see how well the Americans were being treated.
²
It could not have been more different from the conditions in the holding camp in the town. This was positively luxurious; this was how former prisoners of war
should
be treated. In fact, to be perfectly truthful, an objective observer might have thought the VIP treatment a little excessive.

By now, Colonel Wilmeth had too much experience to imagine even for a minute that this marked a change of heart among the Soviets. When he began talking to the men, he immediately discovered the reason for their exceptional treatment. These seven men were survivors of the massacre at Stalag III-C.

Wilmeth and Kingsbury already knew about the incident; these were not the first men from that particular prison camp to have passed through Lublin. Sergeant Richard Beadle and many others who had been there had reported how Soviet infantry and tanks had fired on the
column of POWs as the German guards were marching them away.
³
Dozens were killed or wounded. The official story that had come back from the Soviet front line was that the Russians had believed the camp to be a barracks, and that the marching POWs were Hungarian troops in German service. It seemed a plausible claim, but Colonel Wilmeth had grave doubts about it.
⁴
He knew – and so should have the Red Army – that Hungarian troops were not used by the Germans in Poland. And the men would have been visibly unarmed and obviously not in Wehrmacht uniform.

These seven in the Red Army hospital at Lublin were the surviving wounded. They told Wilmeth their stories. As front-line veterans, they didn't blame the Russians for the massacre; accidents happened all the time in war, they said, although this had been a particularly dumb one.

It had taken weeks for the enormity of the ‘accident' to be recognized by the Soviets: weeks during which the victims were subjected to the very same neglect as other ex-prisoners of war. But now word had come down from the very top of the Soviet tree that these men were to be treated with honor and every possible care.

If it was intended to be an apology, it went far beyond what was necessary – so far that Colonel Wilmeth was deeply suspicious of the motives behind it. Marshal Astakhov, deputy commander of the Red Army Air Force, had dispatched two airplanes from Moscow to Lublin to transport the seven men to Odessa. (That was nice, but no more than Eastern Command had been desperately trying to arrange for all its POWs for months now.) So as to honor the men properly, each of the two planes was to be crewed entirely by decorated Red Air Force combat veterans, and the two pilots would be holders of the Hero of the Soviet Union award – the Soviet equivalent of the Medal of Honor.

When Colonel Wilmeth was told about these plans, he accepted the gesture graciously on behalf of the United States Army and kept his cynical thoughts to himself. When the men were put aboard the planes the next day, they were loaded with presents, food, and bouquets of flowers. Wilmeth's suspicions were confirmed: the episode had more to do with propaganda than with making amends.

This lavish treatment would be presented to the world as an example of how the Soviet Union honored and cared for her allies' liberated prisoners. The Soviet government and its tame press would contrast this treatment sharply and unflatteringly with the abominable suffering that Russian ex-POWs were allegedly subjected to by American and British forces in Western Europe. This claim was propagated constantly by the Soviets, despite the evidence provided by Washington, the US Embassy, and SHAEF headquarters showing that it was false.

Colonel Wilmeth had had this propaganda line thrown in his face just a couple of weeks ago, during his last meeting with Colonel Vlasov.
⁵
Once again the meeting had turned quickly into an indignant confrontation.

Vlasov had begun by presenting Wilmeth with a list of numbers of ex-prisoners that had been shipped to Odessa from various collecting points in Poland. Wilmeth knew the figures were incomplete and inaccurate, and asked for better ones. Only Moscow had accurate figures, he was told. Why Moscow would have more information than the authority on the ground in Poland wasn't explained. It was impossible for Wilmeth to check the figures because he'd still been unable to contact General Deane in Moscow. He'd tried to send a message through the Polish commercial telegraph system, but was barred from using it (it had no connection to Moscow, they told him, even though he knew it did).

Having delivered his useless data, Colonel Vlasov delivered what he hoped was a body blow. As of the next day, 13 March, Lublin was to be closed as a POW collecting point. There were no more ex-prisoners expected to arrive; all had been evacuated. Colonel Wilmeth's work was done, and he could therefore go back to Moscow. His permit had expired.

Wilmeth wasn't impressed. ‘Could you put that in writing?' he asked.

Vlasov, tight-lipped, refused. Wilmeth had learned that the way to deflect Soviet intimidation was to ask to have a claim put in writing,
signed. None of them dared put anything on paper without approval from above, so even if they were telling the truth (which was rare), they ended up looking like they were lying.
⁶

‘I've heard that our American contact teams have finally arrived at Poltava,' Wilmeth said. ‘Why are they not being allowed into Poland?' Vlasov said nothing. ‘Two weeks ago,' Wilmeth went on relentlessly, ‘I was promised a truckload of supplies from the local Red Army depot. Where is it?' No answer. ‘Can you obtain permission for American planes to fly supplies into Poland?'

Colonel Vlasov said that it could not be done.

‘
Somebody
has to bring in supplies,' Wilmeth said angrily, ‘since you and your comrades seem to be utterly incapable of doing anything for the POWs.'

Again he listed the ways in which the Soviet Union was failing to honor practically every principle Comrade Stalin had signed up to at Yalta; again he offered to let Colonel Vlasov have his copy of the agreement and see for himself.

Wilmeth's imperturbable placidity finally gave way. ‘It's a damn shame,' he said, ‘that people who parade themselves as our friends act in every way
other
than friendly. I'm sick of it.
Sick
.'
⁷

Colonel Vlasov's temper broke as well. ‘I can tell you,' he hissed furiously, ‘that Soviet ex-prisoners of war are receiving
far worse
treatment from the Americans than any American prisoners are receiving from the Soviet Union. They are being abused, and your government refuses to repatriate them to the USSR.'

Wilmeth had heard this line being put out by Radio Moscow. It was a constant tune that they sang whenever Stalin wanted to score a propaganda point against the USA. Given Stalin's stated view of Soviet soldiers who surrendered, Wilmeth very much doubted the sincerity of these concerns – even if the allegations they were based on had been true.

‘Do you know how many Soviet POW contact personnel there are in the European theater right now?' he asked Vlasov. ‘
Two hundred
. And they are permitted to go
anywhere they want to
behind American
lines, at all times. And what do we have here?' He pointed to himself. ‘Two officers, myself and Colonel Kingsbury, confined to Lublin.'

Not for much longer, Vlasov reminded him. His permit had expired.

Wilmeth asked him to put this in writing and send it as a message to General Deane in Moscow. Colonel Wilmeth would await General Deane's instructions. In the meantime, he would remain in Lublin.

Feeling that he ought to try to repair the diplomatic breach he had opened up, Colonel Wilmeth invited Colonel Vlasov to dine with him that evening. To his surprise, Vlasov accepted immediately. The fact that he did so without any consultation with his superior officer – unthinkable in the regular Red Army – finally convinced Wilmeth that Vlasov was NKVD.
⁸

Indeed, as the days passed and he learned more about the ongoing Sovietization of Poland, and as he built up a picture of the experiences POWs were having in the journey from the stalags and oflags to the Soviet holding camps, Colonel Wilmeth was coming to suspect that the entire POW repatriation authority was being run by the NKVD.

The attempts to force him to leave Lublin intensified. He was told that a ‘big scandal' would result if he did not leave for Moscow, and he might not make it safely there if he did go.
⁹
His messages to General Deane were manipulated or falsified to give the impression that all was well, and that no further help was needed for POWs in Lublin because there were none there.
¹⁰
False orders, allegedly from Deane, instructing him to return to Moscow, were given to him. He ignored them.

Meanwhile, the argument over Wilmeth's situation at Lublin was going to the very top. Not only did General Deane want Wilmeth to stay; he was busily trying to get permission to go to Lublin himself and see what was happening. He had off-the-record sources of intelligence and knew very well that things were bad.
¹¹
Consulting with Ambassador Averell Harriman, he requested that President Roosevelt take the matter up with Stalin directly.
¹²

On 17 March, Roosevelt cabled Stalin.
¹³
He asked why American aircraft were not being allowed to fly supplies into Poland, why they
were not being permitted to evacuate sick POWs by air, and why the contact officers currently in Poland were being blocked from assisting their fellow Americans. ‘I have information that I consider positive and reliable,' he wrote, ‘that there are a very considerable number of sick and injured Americans in hospitals in Poland,' and he added that there were many ex-POWs who were still ‘at large in small groups'. He asked that General Deane be allowed to travel to Lublin at once. ‘Frankly,' the President added, ‘I cannot understand your reluctance to permit American officers … to assist their own people in this matter.'

Five days later, on 22 March, Stalin replied.
¹⁴
He stated that Roosevelt's information was ‘not exact'. There were no American ex-prisoners of war in Poland now, aside from seventeen who were sick (including the seven in hospital at Lublin). These men were about to be flown to Odessa. Stalin added that he personally had no objection at all to General Deane visiting Poland, or any other American officers. But his hard-pressed army commanders would not welcome the extra burden of having to look after non-combatant foreign officers, especially when there were German agents at large who might harm or abduct American officers. (A curious echo of the warning that Captain Trimble had been given by his OSS contacts about the ‘German agents' ruse that the Soviets might use as a way to murder inconvenient Americans.) ‘Our commanders pay with their lives,' Stalin went on, ‘for the state of matters at the front and in the immediate rear, and I do not consider it possible to limit their rights in any degree.' He conveniently overlooked the fact that the areas of Poland in question were now dozens or even hundreds of miles from the front line. Stalin concluded by gravely reminding the US president that Russian POWs currently in American camps were subjected to ‘unlawful inconveniences' and even beatings. Marshal Stalin's concern for these men, whom he'd previously decreed to be ‘criminal deserters' and ‘traitors' who ought to be shot, was remarkable.

Hearing of Stalin's reply, US Ambassador Averell Harriman was outraged: ‘Stalin's statement,' he wrote to the President, ‘that the Red Army command cannot be bothered with a dozen American officers
in Poland to look after the welfare of our liberated prisoners is preposterous when we think of what the American people have done in supplying the Red Army with vehicles and food.' He added darkly: ‘When the story of the treatment accorded our liberated prisoners by the Russians leaks out I cannot help but feel that there will be great and lasting resentment on the part of the American people.'
¹⁵

As the month of March wore away, so did Colonel Wilmeth's will to continue. But his resolve did not. He had built up a reliable little network of agents – some of them ex-POWs living in Polish homes, others from among the Polish underground – who passed him information. When the Russians told him that no more American or British POWs were expected to come into Lublin, he knew the truth of it: Soviet guards had been posted on the roads into town, directing POWs to go elsewhere. The same was happening in other Polish cities – Kraków, Łódź, and Warsaw. And as rumors of the way POWs were treated spread across the country, fewer and fewer were willing to try to enter the towns anyway.
¹⁶