There was a dark side to their holidays. The OGPU carefully planned Stalin’s train journey which, during the Hunger, was accompanied by a train of provisions. If, on arrival, the staff thought there was still a shortage of food for Stalin and his guests, his assistants rapidly sent “a telegram to Orel and Kursk” to despatch more. They eagerly reported that during the journey they had successfully cooked Stalin hot meals. “As for the GPU,” wrote one of his assistants, “there’s lots of work, massive arrests have taken place” and they were still working on hunting down “those who remain… Two bands of bandits have been arrested.” 3
Stalin’s tastes in holiday houses changed but in the thirties, Dacha No. 9 in Sochi was his favourite. Krasnaya Polyana, Red Meadow, was “a wooden house with a veranda around the whole outside,” says Artyom, who usually holidayed with “Uncle Stalin.” [34] In the mid-thirties, Miron Merzhanov, Stalin’s architect, rebuilt the house in stone. The big, dark green house is still there: there is now a museum with a dummy of Stalin at his desk, a Café Stalin, and a mini-Stalin theme park in the gardens.
Stalin’s house stood high on the hill while Molotov and Voroshilov’s houses stood symbolically in the valley below. When Nadya was on holiday with her husband, they usually invited a wider family, including Yenukidze and the obese proletarian poet, Demian Bedny. It was the job of Stalin’s staff, along with the secret police and the local bosses, to prepare the house before his arrival: “The villa… has been renovated 100%,” wrote one of his staff, “as if ready for a great party” with every imaginable fruit. 4
They enjoyed holidaying in groups, like an American university fraternity house, often without their wives who were with the children in Moscow. “Molotov and I ride horses, play tennis, skittles, boating, shooting—in a word, a perfect rest,” wrote Mikoyan to his wife, listing the others who were with them. “It’s a male Bolshevik monastery.” But at other times they took their wives and children too: when Kuibyshev went on holiday, the shock-haired economics boss and poet travelled round the Black Sea with a “large and jolly troupe” of pretty girls and bon vivants. 5
They competed to holiday with Stalin but the most popular companion was the larger-than-life Sergo. Yenukidze often invited his fellow womanizer Kuibyshev to party with him in his Georgian village. Stalin was half jealous of these men and sounded delighted when Molotov failed to rendezvous with Sergo: “Are you running away from Sergo?” he asked. 6They always asked each other who was there: “Here in Nalchik,” wrote Stalin, “there’s me, Voroshilov and Sergo.” 7
“I got your note,” Stalin told Andreyev. “Devil take me! I was in Sukhumi and we didn’t meet by chance. If I’d known about your intention to visit… I’d never have left Sochi… How did you spend your holidays? Did you hunt as much as you wanted?” 8Once they had arrived at their houses, the magnates advised which place was best: “Come to the Crimea in September,” Stalin wrote to Sergo from Sochi, adding that Borzhomi in Georgia was comfortable “because there are no mosquitoes… In August and half of September, I’ll be in Krasnaya Polyana [Sochi]. The GPU have found a very nice dacha in the mountains but my illness prevents me going yet… Klim [Voroshilov] is now in Sochi and we’re quite often together…” 9
“In the south,” says Artyom, “the centre of planning went with him.” Stalin worked on the veranda in a wicker chair with a wicker table on which rested a huge pile of papers. Planes flew south daily bringing his letters. Poskrebyshev (often in a neighbouring cottage) scuttled in to deliver them. Stalin constantly demanded more journals to read. He used to read out letters and then tell the boys his reply. Once he got a letter from a worker complaining that there were no showers at his mine. Stalin wrote on the letter, “If there is no resolution soon and no water, the director of the mine should be tried as an Enemy of the People.” 10
Stalin was besieged with questions from Molotov or Kaganovich, left in charge in Moscow. “Shame we don’t have a connection with Sochi by telephone,” [35] But this has been a boon for historians: their main communication was by letter until 1935 when a safe telephone link was set up between Moscow and the south. Trotsky had paraphrased Herzen’s comment on Nicholas I, “Genghiz Khan with a telegraph,” to call Stalin “Genghiz Khan with a telephone.” Yet it is a sobering thought that for several months a year, he ruled with no telephone at all.
wrote Voroshilov. “Telephone would help us. I’d like to visit you for 2–3 days and also have a sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep normally for a long time.” 11But Stalin relished his dominance: “The number of Politburo inquiries doesn’t affect my health,” he told Molotov. “You can send as many inquiries as you like—I’ll be happy to answer them.” They all wrote Stalin long, handwritten letters knowing, as Bukharin put it, “Koba loves to receive letters.” 12Kaganovich, in charge in Moscow for the first time, took full advantage of this though the Politburo still took most of the decisions themselves, with Stalin intervening from afar if he disapproved.
The vain, abrasive, emotional magnates often argued viciously in Stalin’s absence: after a row with his friend Sergo, Kaganovich admitted to Stalin, “This upset me very much.” Stalin often enjoyed such conflicts: “Well, dear friends… more squabbling…” Nonetheless, sometimes even Stalin was exasperated: “I can’t and shouldn’t give decisions on every possible and imaginable question raised at Politburo. You should be able to study and produce a response… yourselves!” 13
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There was time for fun too: Stalin took a great interest in the gardens at the house, planting lemon bowers and orange groves, proudly weeding and setting his entourage to toil in the sun. Stalin so appreciated the gardener in Sochi, one Alferov, that he wrote to Poskrebyshev: “it would be good to put [Alferov] in the Academy of Agriculture—he’s the gardener in Sochi, a very good and honest worker…”
His life in the south bore no resemblance to the cold solitude that one associates with Stalin. “Joseph Vissarionovich liked expeditions into nature,” wrote Voroshilova in her diary. “He drove by car and we settled near some small river, lit a fire and made a barbecue, singing songs and playing jokes.” The whole entourage went on these expeditions.
“We often all of us get together,” wrote one excited secretary to another. “We fire air rifles at targets, we often go on walks and expeditions in the cars, we climb into the forest, and have barbecues where we grill kebabs, booze away and then grub’s up!” Stalin and Yenukidze entertained the guests with stories of their adventures as pre-revolutionary conspirators while Demian Bedny told “obscene stories of which he had an inexhaustible reserve.” Stalin shot partridges and went boating.
“I remember the dacha in Sochi when Klim and I were invited over by Comrade Stalin,” wrote Voroshilova. “I watched him playing games such as skittles and Nadezhda Sergeevna was playing tennis.” Stalin and the cavalryman Budyonny played skittles with Vasily and Artyom. Budyonny was so strong that when he threw the skittle, he broke the entire set and the shield behind. Everyone laughed about his strength (and stupidity): “If you’re strong you don’t need a brain.” They teased him for hurting himself by doing a parachute jump. “He thought he was jumping off a horse!”
“Only two men were known as the first cavalrymen of the world—Napoleon’s Marshal Lannes and Semyon Budyonny,” Stalin defended him, “so we should listen to everything he says about cavalry!” Years later, Voroshilova could only write: “What a lovely time it was!” 14
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