The End of War - A Novel of the Race for Berlin - [World War II 02] (53 page)

With the knife, Ilya slashes.

The soldier’s hands are free. The cut rope falls like a dead snake to his ankles.

Ilya makes a very small jig with his head, in the direction of Misha.

The soldier wheels and leaps at Misha. The little sergeant’s rifle is strapped over his shoulder and he cannot grab it. The soldier smashes his fist into Misha’s scar, smacking Misha back several paces. The rifle falls to the soupy ground. Horst advances and delivers one more full blow into Misha’s mouth, punching the smaller man down. Misha scrambles on his backside, coating himself in mud.

The soldier grabs for the fallen rifle. He rises with it in his hands, pointed at Misha.

Before he can pull the trigger, Ilya shoots him dead.

Misha stops backpedaling in the muck.

“Ilya!” he sputters. “What ... fuck!”

Ilya hoists his submachine gun and straps it over his shoulder. There are echoes; the report from the blast takes longer to die out here in the Seelow plain than did the soldier Horst.

Ilya lifts Misha’s rifle out of the untied hands. He holds it for Misha to stand and reclaim.

Ilya looks down on the young German. There are five leaking holes ripped in his narrow back.

He died with a gun in his hands. He died fighting. So he counts.

But Horst was wrong.

There has not yet been enough.

~ * ~

April 5, 1945, 8:05
p.m.

Prime Minister’s residence at Chequers

Buckinghamshire, England

churchill sips a dram of champagne. he sets the tall flute
carefully in its spot, forward and to the right. The glass sweats, he wipes dewy fingertips against his vest. The bubbles cast up white hats like happy sailors.

Closer on his right a brass ashtray supports a smoldering fat cigar. Gray fog wreathes his head, manufacturing his favorite kind of air, redolent of back rooms, politics, men. By his left elbow there’s a warm platter of lamb and chutney, garnished with pickles and rice. Behind that, crackers and black Russian caviar. At the head of this meal, holding the top of the circle, stands a photograph of his wife, Clementine, and daughter Sarah.

Directly in front of him lies a short pile of cables and messages. The sheets are white and starchy, inedible, undrinkable, unenjoyable. He’s surrounded the papers with a ring of his favorite things, allies of succor for these private, trying moments.

Outside the circle waits a pen and a ream of crisp PM’s stationery. Farther outside the ring lies the open, ticking Turnip.

The telegrams are arranged in order of arrival, by time and date. The greatest adventure of the twentieth century began with trust and cooperation, with hope for a better world, but it has all been poisoned, and the sheets in front of him are the white pills that did the deed. Jealousy, ideology, suspicion, glory; these have overwhelmed hope like jackals sicced on a pup. Churchill lifts the first flimsy page. Through pince-nez glasses, he reads it again.

General Eisenhower’s telegram to Stalin. SCAF 252.

After first seeing this cable a week ago on March 29, Churchill immediately called the General on the scrambler telephone, near midnight. He didn’t mention SCAF 252, just asked for clarification of the Supreme Commander’s intentions. Churchill stressed to Eisenhower the continuing importance of Berlin as a target, arguing for Montgomery to be allowed to continue his northern assault with the Ninth U.S. Army in his quiver. Churchill restated his strong view that it was vital for the Western Allies to capture Berlin before the Reds. Eisenhower listened and replied, “Berlin is no longer a military objective.”

Churchill puts this cable aside. History, he thinks, will not set it down so lightly.

The next page carries the date 30 Mar. 45.
General Eisenhower to Prime Minister.
In this letter Eisenhower put the content of his telephone conversation into print for Churchill. The Elbe River will be his goal, south of Berlin, to cut off enemy forces heading that direction and divide the German army in half. The main thrust
lies in Bradley’s zone, and he will have the Third, First, and Ninth Armies to carry it out.

Eisenhower’s letter relegates the entire English force to protecting Bradley’s left flank. Monty loses the Ninth, enfeebling his Twenty-first Army Group. Later in the offensive, Eisenhower explains,
once the success of main thrust is assured,
Montgomery will get to mop up the northern seaports.

Jolly, Churchill thinks. Mopping-up duty. The English maid.

Churchill scoops some caviar onto a cracker. He washes it down with champagne. Those old Russians who first married caviar with bubbly certainly knew what was what.

Eisenhower is still on a wild-goose chase. He continues to be obsessed with the specter of German resistance burrowing into some mountain fortress in the south. Weeks ago British intelligence judged this to be a rumor. Why, Churchill puzzles not for the first time, can’t the Americans take their teeth out of it? How can they allow something so unsubstantiated to dictate such major strategy decisions?

The champagne tangs his tongue. He reaches for the cigar and sucks deeply, meshing the several flavors, making them squabble in his mouth, that’s the way to relish.

Churchill is not getting upset surveying these cables. He told himself even before he instructed Jock Colville to assemble them on his desk, and again before he embarked through them with his dinner, that he would not. This is merely a review parade. A farewell.

By contrast, he’s heard in the wind that Eisenhower, short-tempered in the best of times, is furious at being challenged by the English. A flurry of telegrams to Marshall, Montgomery, the Joint Chiefs, Bradley, everyone involved, displays his anger at being questioned. Churchill likes Eisenhower the man, but is committed that the General’s decision in this historic instance—handing over Berlin to the Reds—is quite dead wrong.

But what can one do? Churchill sighs and makes the only move available to him, like a chess king in check. He sets the cigar in the ashtray, licks his lips, and flips to the next page.

On March 30, the British Chiefs of Staff sent a lengthy complaint to their opposite numbers in Washington, D.C. This was done without first having it pass muster with Churchill. The English generals were miffed primarily that Eisenhower circumvented proper channels when he made direct contact with Stalin. This seems to Churchill a sideshow to the real topic, Eisenhower’s unilateral dismissal of Berlin as an objective.

Next page. The Americans’ riposte of the same date. They firmly state that Eisenhower’s communication with Stalin was appropriate and an operational necessity. They give their support to aiming the main offensive thrust to the southeast, saying it’s in line with approved strategy and exploits military opportunities.

the battle of germany is now at the point where the commander in the field is the best judge of the measures which offer the earliest prospects of destroying the german armies or their power to resist. . . . the single objective should be quick and complete victory.

Blah blah, thinks Churchill. Single objective. There
is
no single objective in war. That’s what soldiers never can see. It’s not over when a man lays down his gun. The question remains as to which fellow will pick up the weapon next. That’s politics.

Churchill catches a wisp of testiness in his thinking. No, no, he calms himself. You are looking for an end, not another chapter. Drink. Smoke. Chew. Better, that’s better.

He rubs his nose where the glasses ride. He settles deeper into the leather desk chair. Next page.

Eisenhower’s cable of March 31 to Montgomery. Antagonism coats every word like scum. Eisenhower gives vent to his distaste both for the debate over his decrees as Allied Supreme Commander and for the British Field Marshal:

i must adhere to my decision about ninth army passing to bradley’s command. . . . you will note that in none of this do i mention berlin. that place has become, as far as i am concerned, nothing but a geographical location, and i have never been interested in these.

Montgomery could make no response to his military commander’s very direct orders. He was slapped down good and hard. If there are operations beyond the Elbe for Monty’s Twenty-first, they will be simply to clear the northern seaports, nothing else. Definitely not Berlin. But Churchill could talk back, and did. On the same day, he cabled Eisenhower again, refuting every point.

Churchill lays the cable from Eisenhower on the growing, sloppy sheaf with the others he’s reviewed. He picks up his reply, written in language as tart as what Ike pointed at Montgomery:

prime minister to general eisenhower 3 i mar. 45

very many thanks. it seems to me personally that if the enemy’s resistance does not collapse, the shifting of the main axis of advance so much further to the southward and the withdrawal of the ninth u.s. army from the twenty-first army group may stretch montgomery’s front so widely that the offensive role which was assigned to him may peter out. i do not know why it would be an advantage not to cross the elbe. if the enemy’s resistance should weaken, as you evidently expect and which may well be fulfilled, why should we not cross the elbe and advance as far eastward as possible? this has an important political bearing, as the russian armies of the south seem certain to enter vienna and overrun austria. if we deliberately leave berlin to them, even if it should be in our grasp, the double event may strengthen their conviction, already apparent, that they have done everything.

2. further, i do not consider myself that berlin has yet lost its military and certainly not its political significance. the fall of berlin would have a profound psychological effect on german resistance in every part of the reich. while berlin holds out, great masses of germans will feel it their duty to go down fighting. the idea that the capture of dresden and junction with the russians there would be a superior gain does not commend itself to me. the parts of the german government departments which have moved south can very quickly move southward again. but while berlin remains under the german flag it cannot, in my opinion, fail to be the most decisive point in germany.

3. therefore i should greatly prefer persistence in the plan on which we crossed the rhine, namely that the ninth u.s. army should march with the twenty-first army group on to the elbe and beyond berlin. this would not be in any way inconsistent with the great central thrust which you are now so rightly developing as the result of the brilliant operations of your armies south of the ruhr. it only shifts the weight of one army to the northern flank.

Churchill leaves this page flat before him for several seconds. It was a fine effort, he thinks. He freshens his champagne glass and toasts himself. History will not accuse him of slacking, he thinks, history will not say Winston Churchill stood idle while the bear gobbled Berlin off an American silver platter.

The next two pages he turns over quickly, just perusing them. He has a dislike for this cable, a lengthy and kissy missive to President Roosevelt. It was Churchill’s first mentioning of the SCAF controversy to Roosevelt. In it he repeats for the President point for point the rebuttal he sent to Eisenhower, but the message this time is couched in careful, courtly terms.

Everyone in His Majesty’s Government admires
the great and shining qualities of character and personality
of Eisenhower. The good Supreme Commander is to receive
heartfelt congratulations on the glorious victories and advances by all the armies of the United States Centre in the recent battles on the Rhine and over it.

Before Churchill even ventured to mention to the President his difficulties with Eisenhower’s conduct and judgment, he’d written a full page of homage to America and begging excuse for England. After so much stroking, finally brooking the troubles, he did so like a burglar cracking a windowsill, entering with stealth and a light tread:

having dealt with and i trust having disposed of these misunderstandings between the truest friends and comrades that ever fought side-by-side as allies, i venture to put to you a few considerations upon the merits of the changes in our original plan now desired by general eisenhower. it seems to me the differences are small, and, as usual, not of principle but of emphasis.