Colin Gee: Opening Moves

The intertwining of their war is remarkable and will be revealed as the text progresses.

I was able to piece together the last mission of Flight Sergeant Andrew McKenzie VC from enemy accounts and squadron records only, but what he achieved is well known today and I have just added a little meat to the bones of what this bravest of men did one hazy summer’s day. I am proud that my research was able to ensure that his incredible bravery and self-sacrifice was finally rewarded.

During my research, I came across many tales of heroism and sacrifice but one will be included here because it was the wish of his enemy that he should be so acknowledged. Without that wish and the accompanying testimony of his enemies, as in the case of McKenzie, the actions of Starshiy Serzhant Ivan Alexeyevich Balyan would have been secret for eternity. Thanks to his enemies and their professional admiration for what he achieved, his story will be written here and, on reflection, his Motherland may wish to afford him the honour his sacrifice demands.

It was beyond me to be able to get access to the records of the former Deuxieme Bureau but I was able to interview some former employees off the record and I thank them for their invaluable assistance and admire your courage by risking much to ensure some worthy people get the recognition they deserve.

With the help of all these documents, the personal memories of the above, and others, I have been able to put together a story of the last two years of World War Two, years which cost many lives and which left such an indelible mark on those who fought on both sides.

I need not overly set the scene, for the events up to the German capitulation in May 1945 are well known and well documented. Europe was in ruins after the armies of many nations had rolled over it. The world waited for the end as the relentless steamroller of the United States of America’s industry continued to roll over weakened Japan.

In those heady summer days of July 1945, the Allied and Soviet armies in Europe licked their wounds after their trials against Nazi Germany whilst the politicians bickered and argued over the small print of victory. Niggles between allies started to become more serious and tolerances became fragile. Agreed boundaries became points of argument, ground taken at the loss of life of comrades is not easily given over to another, and in four instances, shots had been fired and deaths occurred. None the less life suddenly felt good for most, for they were unaware of the agendas of the powerful, and men who had been fighting, in some cases since 1939, could look up and feel the sun on their faces and not feel afraid that death would visit them that day.

It was the pause but they didn’t know it.

It was a simple piece of paper. What complicated the day greatly for the reader was the information typed upon it, words which had been days in transit from their source half a world away until now, when they were produced in front of the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the USSR’s Central Committee.

Clad as always in his simple brown tunic and trousers, he frowned deeply, re-read the information, and then looked up at the man standing the other side of the impressive Tsarist wooden desk.

“So Lavrentiy. Are we sure of this?”

The man, short and prematurely balding, removed his wire frame glasses and, withdrawing a white cotton handkerchief from his suit pocket, studiously polished them. Such was his habit when he was considering his answers very carefully; a practice that was very wise when dealing with the General Secretary, even for a man as powerful as Lavrentiy Beria, head of the NKVD.

“You know that with this agent and agent Gamayun we have properly infiltrated their inner project and extracted much information to aid our own research Comrade. Alkonost is an ideological agent who has been 100% reliable and I do not see any reason to doubt a report now.”

The General Secretary leaned back in his modest chair and drew deeply on his pipe, looking around his place of work and thinking.

“They are that advanced?”

“It seems so Comrade.”

“We have received no notification of this from our other assets?”

“None whatsoever Comrade General Secretary. All have been quiet for some time and our messages go unanswered. Not unusual for any agent and certainly not those within Manhattan. We have directed them to take no risk unless the information is crucial, particularly ‘Gamayun’ and ‘Alkonost’.”

The office was capacious and reasonably furnished, the most important and imposing piece therein being a huge table set centrally. Some trappings of Imperial times could be seen hung on the wall but for a man in his position the room could have been thought of as comparatively austere when viewed side by side with the other chambers of the old palace. None the less, the power was wholly focussed here, and in particular in the person of the man puffing away thoughtfully on his simple pipe.

“Some light, comrade” was the implied instruction, accompanied by a gesture with the smoking stem towards the nearest heavy velvet curtains.

Beria walked to the window and opened the long curtains. Sunlight streamed in, causing them both to squint until they grew accustomed to its brightness. He paused briefly at the window, looking down on the Kremlin walls, where a detachment of his NKVD troops was being inspected by a young and extremely keen major.

It was nearly eight in the morning but both men had been working for some hours already.

“Our own project Lavrentiy? I assume we have made no great headway since your last report?”

This was a subject of embarrassment to both of these men. The possibilities of fission research had originally been ignored by Stalin in favour of other, more understandable concepts. The first warnings that the Motherland was years behind in something extremely important were from Georgy Flerov, a notable Soviet nuclear physicist. He pointed out that, despite the discovery of fission in 1939, the West’s scientists published no further papers. This suggested that they were working on an atomic programme that was being kept secret. Assets in Britain sent further information confirming the existence of an American Atomic Research project and so the USSR had commenced her own atomic programme in September 1942. Until then it had not been considered important enough, an opinion that both men had held, quickly discarded, and now bitterly regretted.

“Nothing too dramatic, Comrade Secretary. I am satisfied that the scientists and technicians are working flat out and there is some progress by other unexpected means, as well as the information gained by our agents in place. We have made some interesting advances in the physics with Serov’s interrogation of the Germanski scientists, and the facility that Rokossovsky so kindly delivered intact has yielded more useful pieces of the jigsaw. Of course, the oxide we discovered in Oranienberg and Glewe will greatly assist our progress, particularly as I have it on good authority that it is already of the correct grade. The information Agents Alkonost and Gamayun have been supplying has greatly assisted the programme, particularly with the previous two reports we were sent, which seem to have allowed us to make good advances Comrade.”

Rummaging in his briefcase, Beria produced a small file containing a technical brief, authored by one of Russia’s most eminent scientists.

“Here we have Comrade Kurchatov’s recent report on how the information on the use of purified graphite and method of isotope separation supplied by our pet German scientists has greatly assisted progress and will undoubtedly bring forward our own completion date. I asked him to put it in simple terms that I could understand.”