Peter Pišťanek - The End of Freddy

“Follow me, gentlemen,” he says and opens the door of a large conference room.

“I’ve already told you my name,” says Sosna. “Now I will add: I am an officer of the Czech navy with the rank of Rear Admiral.”

The room fills with whispers.

“Yes, you heard right,” smiles Sosna. “In the Czech navy. It’s a bit odd, isn’t it? Well, gentlemen, the historical importance of the Czech State as well as its place in the global framework will soon change radically. If all goes well, we shall be among the world’s most important countries. The Czech Crown has already identified certain areas of strategic interest, and to defend them in the future it will need a functioning navy. That is why it has been formed. So far, only on paper. All of you sitting here with your jaws dropped, gentlemen, have the chance to be members. Founder-members!

For a moment Rear Admiral Sosna enjoys their shock. “The Czech Navy consists for the time being of a number of vessels under cover of civilian registration and, most important, of a submarine fleet,” he continues. “This consists so far of one submarine, to which two more will soon be added. It all depends on the speed of the refit. These are submarines of German manufacture, U-XXI series.”

Sosna motions to an assistant, who draws the curtains and starts a projector. On the screen appears a photograph of this type of submarine.

“Well, it’s not the most modern war machine,” Sosna admits. “Despite many improvements, there’s no denying this submarine dates from the end of World War II. For the time, however, it was a very advanced fighting vessel, and for our purposes these submarines are more than adequate.”

Again, Sosna pauses dramatically, then shows his strongest trump card.

“You must be wondering what you’ll get for this,” he says. “We offer you the opportunity to become an officer in the Czech navy with the rank of Sub-Lieutenant on a salary of twenty-five thousand crowns monthly. Further promotion in the service depends on you. Each promotion in rank will give you an extra five thousand crowns a month. Some of you are already lieutenants from military service and will start at thirty thousand crowns. For every hour spent in combat you will get extra operational pay of fifteen crowns. A month at sea will add another ten thousand crowns.”

The gathering hums like a beehive.

“And moreover,” says Rear Admiral Sosna, “immediately on signing the contract, you each get a thirty thousand crowns signing-on bonus and two week’s paid holiday. Just think: you begin your new job with a holiday.”

The naval gathering can’t hold back and bursts into jubilant applause.

“As far as combat action is concerned, gentlemen,” Sosna continues, “basically, this will not be direct combat: anyway, the likelihood of direct combat is virtually zero. Therefore, lack of experience of combat action on a submarine won’t be a problem. What is needed is your experience of routine naval operations. What you’ll have to learn, you’ll learn in the training session you’ll get in the near future. The credit will be yours if the standing of our Czech motherland at the global level radically changes. We shall train you theoretically, using simulators. Your progress during training will be carefully monitored. The two best trainees will be promoted to the rank of commander and will be given the post of submarine commander. Others will have to be satisfied for the time being with subordinate posts. By the way, as soon as the mission has succeeded and is declassified you will all be sent to the USA for real practical submarine training. We are counting on having a naval fleet whose power will match the importance we shall have in future reallocations of spheres of influence. Therefore, each of you will be rewarded according to your ability and merit. You will be the pioneers and nobody will be able to take that away from you. Well, I think I’ve said enough for today. The rest you will learn directly from your instructors on the course. I have to mention one more thing, though.”

Sosna makes a dramatic pause and then he starts in a lower voice as if someone might be eavesdropping: “All the information I have given you is strictly secret. It requires absolute discretion. Otherwise, severe punishment will follow. Since this is extremely important business of absolute priority in the Czech Military Secret Service, all other considerations have to be set aside. I have to warn you in advance that we shall ensure that not only will anyone who talks disappear from this world, but so will everyone to whom he reveals the secret and, moreover, everyone suspected of having learned this secret by accident. So entire families could disappear, entire circles of friends. That’s how important it is to us. Think about it, gentlemen. And now, please let’s move to signing the contracts.”

Sosna nods to an aide, who brings a file of documents.

“Once more, gentlemen: if there’s anyone who’s reluctant, he may leave,” says Sosna. “We won’t take offence. But he has to forget everything he’s seen and heard here.”

Nobody gets up to leave. They all look determined. They made their decision long ago.

“I didn’t think you’d let me down,” says Sosna, almost moved. “Long before we sent you the summons, I studied your personal files. I looked at your faces on the photographs. It’s as if I’ve already talked to you all before. It was I who finally chose you from a hundred naval officers of the former merchant fleet. And I’m not mistaken. Together we’ll form the steel core of the Czech Navy.”

Sosna clenches his fist and lets it fall on the desk.

“And now, gentlemen,” he says in a friendly tone, “while my assistant gives you the contracts, I should say a few words about myself. I was born in Plzeň. In 1949, when I was three years old, my parents emigrated to the United States where I grew up, had my secondary and university education and joined the Navy. I fought, among other places, in Vietnam. After the Persian Gulf War I went into the reserve and started a business. For business reasons I came to my motherland where I had an offer I couldn’t refuse. The Minister of Defence asked me to build up and to lead the navy. I accepted the challenge so as to be a part of something that is only starting, something that I can, with your help, influence. You can bet your life that together we can do it. I want you to know that I am here for you.”

The fist falls on the table again.

“And now, read your contracts carefully,” says Sosna. “If anything’s not clear, come to me.”

Rear Admiral Sosna sits down and opens a file.

Kubeš looks at his friends. The offer is so tempting that there’s no need for much talk. He peruses the contract. It’s set out in great detail; the signatory undertakes to serve the Czech Navy for ten years. The usual stuff, more or less, as anywhere else. The need to keep important facts secret is stressed.

The sailors silently sign the contracts and are given the signing bonus.

“At first you will serve without uniform,” says Sosna, “but that doesn’t mean that you won’t behave in a military fashion. Remember that. On the contrary, membership of an élite in the Czech armed forces obliges you to follow a strict code of military honour. I suggest that none of you delay: give notice to your present employers today. Do it either by agreement or within a month. If there are any problems, tell us. We’ll requisition you from your employers as persons vital to state security. We shall all meet on the fifteenth of September in Lešany near Prague. You will receive precise instructions. That’s where your accelerated military training will take place: your military service was a long time ago and military habits will have to be revived. And then accelerated submarine training will follow. Gentlemen, I congratulate you on the best decision you’ve ever made in your lives.”